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ADVERTISEMENT.

In issuing the last volume of Adams's Practical Works, the Publisher takes leave to point out the special advantages which he believes characterise this edition.

Apart from the convenience of the octavo volume over the folio, and the adaptation of the speUing to modern usage, it has been the aim of the conductors to give to this edition, the following features :—

1. The numerous typographical errors in the original edition, which frequently destroy the sense, have been corrected.

2. The references to Scripture, &c., have been carefully verified.

3. Complete Indices are given, so as to afford perfect facility for reference. The Index of the original foho is well known to be almost worthless. As one main value of this series, when completed, will consist in the different works being readily available for consultation, complete and carefully prepared Indices are regarded as indispensable to confer on the editions a permanent value.

4. Two Sermons are added, the existence of which was known to a very few.

5. The Prefaces and Dedications prefixed to the different works, as originally printed, are reproduced.

6. A Memoir containing all the information obtainable regarding; Adams is supplied.

The Publisher desires to point to these particulars, as affording an earnest of what the other works will be when completed ; as an evidence of his desire to redeem his pledge, and a proof that, irrespective of the great difference in the price of the editions in this series, compared with the market value of the originals, they will be more complete and more valuable for all practical purposes.

Vm ADVERTISEMENT.

In appending Ward's Sermons to the last volume of Adams, he does not anticipate any objections on the part of his Subscribers. As a general rule, it is not desirable to mix up in the same volume, one author with another; but, as the only alternative was to produce Adams in three thin volumes, it appeared to him that this course was open to many more objections than adding, separately paged, another author, whose writings are in many respects remarkable, who lived at the same period, and whose mode of dealing with his subject is so much akin to that of Adams.

Where any irregularity in the delivery of the volumes, as published, takes place, or any change of residence occurs, the Publisher begs he may be made acquainted with the circumstance, that he may be enabled to arrange for the punctual supply of the volumes as they are issued.

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

Literature has on its roll many eminent authors, from Homer downwards, whose personal history is not known. The shadow of a great name rests upon their title-pages ; the men themselves, try as we may, we cannot see.

To this class Thomas Adams belongs. That he was, in 1612, a ' preacher of the gospel at Willington,' in Bedfordshire ; that, in 1614, he was at Wingrave, in Buckinghamshire, probably as vicar; that, in 1618, he held the preachership at St Gregory's, under St Paul's Cathedral, and was ' observant chaplain' to Sir Henrie Montague, the Lord Chief-Justice of England; that, in 1630, he published a folio volume of his collected works, dedicating them 'to his parishioners of St Bennet's, Paul's Wharf,' to ' Wm. Earle of Pembroke,' and ' Henrie Earle of Manchester,' the first a nobleman of Puritan tendencies, and the second the Montague just named, and the representative of a family known to favour liberty ; that, in 1633, he published a Commentary on the Second Epistle of the apostle Peter, dedicating it to ' Sir Henrie Marten, Kt., Judge of the Admiralty, and Deane of the Arches Court of Canterbury,' and promising in his Dedication * some maturer thoughts,' never destined apparently to see the light; that, in 1653, he was passing 'a necessitous and decrepit old age' in Loudon, having been sequestered, if Newcourt is to be trusted,* from his living; and that he died before the ' Restoration,' we know; gathering our information chiefly from his own writings.-f- That he was in request for visitation sermons ; that he was a frequent preacher at St Paul's Cross, in services soon to be abolished, and occasional preacher at Whitehall ; that he was friend and ' homager' of John Donne, prebendary of St Paul's, and an admirer of Jewell, and Latimer, and Fox, and * Repertorium, vol. i. 302, f See page xxix., &c.

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

Joseph Hall; that he loved and preached the great truths of the gospel; that he was a man of extensive learning ; that he was a laborious pastor; that his writings were quoted in the commonplace books of the day,* and were apt to 'creep out' before they were published ; that there is much in them to justify the opinion of Southey, who deemed Adams scarcely inferior to Thomas Fuller in wit, and to Jeremy Taylor in fancy, we also know ; but again are we indebted for our information chiefly to his own works.i* His too is as yet the shadow of a name. The man we cannot see, nor have we found a witness that has seen him.

The singular silence of all the authorities who might have been expected to speak of Adams, compels us to gather up the fragments of information we have on the districts in which he laboured, and on the great men with whose names his own is associated. They give side-glimpses, at least, of his character and life. , Willington, where Adams is first heard of, is a rural parish, in the neighbourhood of Bedford. It lies on the road between Bedford and St Neots. Here Adams laboured from 1612 to 1614, at least; and to the new lord of the manor, recently created a baronet—Sir Will. Gostwicke—and to Lady Jane Gostwicke, one of Adams' sermons is dedicated. Sir William came to the baronetcy in 1612, and died in 1615. J

Adams is next found at Wingrave, whence he dates two of his sermons. In Lipscomb's History of Buckinghamshire, he is spoken of as vicar of Wingrave, from Dec. 2. 1614, when he was instituted, till he became incumbent of St Beunet Fink§ (Lipscomb says), when he resigned Wingrave in favour of the Rev. R. Hitchcock, S.T.B. Hitchcock was inducted May 4. ] 636. The vicarage seems to have been in the gift of the Egerton family ; and to Sir Thos. Egerton, Lord EUesmere, some of Adams' sermons are dedicated. ' St Bennet Fink, is no doubt a mistake for St Bennet's, Paul's Wharf The

* Spencer's Things Neio and Old. London, 1658.

•j- See A sermon preached at the triennial visitation of the R. R. Father in God, the Ld.-Bishop of London, in Christ Church, Actes xv. 36, London, 1625 ; and the Holy Choice, preached at the Chappell by Guildhall, at the solemnities of the election of the Lord Maior of London, Actes i. 24. Lond. 1625.

The Gallant's Burden, a sermon preached at Paul's Cross, Mar. 29. (fifth Sunday in Lent), 1612, by Thomas Adams. Published by authoritie. London, 1614.

The Temple, a sermon preached at Paul's Cross, Aug. 5.1624, by Thos. Adams.

X Lyson's Magna Britannia ; sub voce Willington. From the preface of the White Devil, we learn that, in March 1614, he was still at Willington ; early in 1615, he was at Wingrave.

§ History, vol. iii.

foi-mer was only a curacy, and was filled at this time, and till 1642, as Newcomb tells us, by a Mr Warefield.*

In each of these fields of labour, Adams must have had much leisure. Nor is it surprising to find him a frequent visitor in London; first at St Paul's Cross, and then regularly, from 1618 to 1623, at least, as preacher at St Gregory's, an office he probably shared with some of the canons of St Paul's.

The church of St Gregory, where he was preacher, was one of the oldest in London. It dates from the seventh century ; and after an eventful history (in Adams' own age) hereafter to be noticed, was destroyed by the great fire. The parish was then united with that of St Mary Magdalene, Old Fish Street; and so it still remains. The building adjoined the Lollards Tower of the old Cathedral of St Paul's. It stood at the south-west corner, near the top of St Paul's Chain ; as St Bennet's stood at the bottom of the Chain, near the Thames. Its site is now occupied by the Clock Tower of the modern Cathedral.t The parish contained in Adams' time a population of three thousand, many of whom were ' woollen drapers,' and most ' of good quality.'J

The living was originally a rectory in the gift of the crown ; but in the eighteenth year of Richard II., A.D. 1446, the minor canons having obtained letters patent making them a body politic, the king appropriated this church to them for their better support.§ It was a poor living, as Adams found it, and was generally held with some other preferment.||

In 1631-2, the church was repaired and beautified at 'the sole cost and proper charges' of the parishioners. The historians say that a sum of =£'2000 was spent on this work.^ Of the man whose labours in the parish make these facts interesting, they say nothing!

This beautifying of the church soon raised serious questions.

* Repertorium, i. 299.

f The building may be seen in Dugdale's south-west view of St Paul's ; or in Allen's History and Antiquities of London, Westminster, and Southwark, vol. i. p. 365. Lend. 1828. See also Malcolm's Londinium redivivum, vol. iv. p. 483.

J Journals of House of Commons, 1641.

§ Dugdale says the rectory was given to the minor canons by Henry VI. (cap. 24). This is probably the accurate account. That given in the text is supported by most of the authorities.—See Dugdale's History of St Paul's, p. 18. London, 1818.

U Perhaps Adams hints at this fiact, when, in dedicating one of his books to Dr Donne, he speaks of the work as ' the poor fruit of that tree Avhich grows on your ground, and hath not from the world any other sustenance.' The Ban-en Fig Tree, preached at St Paul's Cross, Oct. 26. 1623.

f Stew's Survey, Lon. 1633 ; Maitland's History; Seymour's Survey, 1734.

jdi MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

The dean and chapter deemed it more fitting that the commimion table should be removed to the upper end of the chancel, and ordered accordingly. The parishioners protested; and the case was carried, on the special recommendation of Archbishop Laud, to the king in council. Laud had just succeeded* the Puritan Archbishop Abbot, and thought that the principle of this case was likely to decide many other cases; ultimately the order of the dean and chapter was confirmed.

Pending this controversy, Sir Henry Martin, Adams' friend, and Dean of the Arches Court, spoke somewhat irreverently, as Laud thought; treating the whole question as one of ' cupboards' only. The speech cost Sir Henry his place ; and years after, when Laud was tried for his life, the history of the communion table at St Gregory's formed one of the charges against him.-f* He pleaded that the order of the dean and chapter, not he, had placed the table there ; and that though in the council he had spoken in favour of the order, he had therein only used his undoubted liberty ; and, moreover, was but carrying out the injunction of Queen EUzabeth, who had directed that all communion tables should be placed where the altars formerly stood.| When charged with calling Sir Henry a 'stigmatical or schismatical Puritan,' he suggested that 'schismatical Puritan' was the likelier term.§ The description he seems to have deemed sufiiciently just not to need defence.

But the troubles of the church were not yet to end. Early in 1637, the Star Chamber directed, at Laud's instigation, that the church, so recently beautified, should be pulled down and rebuilt, at the expense of the parishioners, elsewhere. This change was intended for the improvement of the cathedral. The parish protested that they could not meet the expense. || A further order was issued; and the congregation were instructed to find seats, * moveable seats,' not pews, at Christ Church. This second order remaining unexecuted, the Archbishop, or the Lord Treasurer himself, seems to have given directions in the matter, and a large portion of the church was removed.^

This also was remembered ; for, in 1641, there is the following entry in the Journal of the House of Commons :—' Same day reported to the committee, that the church of St Gregory's was an ancient church.' . . ' Four years since,'—rather seven, as it seems,

* Kushworth Collections, vol. ii. Year 1633.

t Prynne'8 Cant. Doom, p 88. % Wilkin's Cone, torn iv. p. 188.

§ Laud's History of his Troubles and Trials. Works iv. p. 225. Library of Anglo Cath. Theology. 11 Rushworth, vol. ii., a.d. 1637.

f See a full account in Nelson's Collection, vol ii. p. 729. Lond, 1683.

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS. XIU

—'.£'1500 was spent in beautifying the church. Shortly after the Lord Treasurer and Lord Collington caused a great part of it to be pulled down, by command from the king and the council, as they pretend :'—no pretence, however ; for the order may be still seen in Rushworth. ' They (' the parishioners,' ' five of them,' Laud says) petitioned the Lords of the Council, but could have no redress. Voted by the Committee to be a great grievance, and to be added to the others which they meant to be addressed to the Lords. They were ordered by the House to send for Inigo Jones,* . . . and to find means of redress for the parishioners.'

Nor have the disasters of the parish yet ceased. In 1658, Dr John Hewit is preacher. He conspires prematurely for the Restoration of Charles II., and pays the penalty with his life. In 1666, the church was burnt and buried under the ruins of St Paul's.

During the later years of this period, 1630-1640, it is probable that Adams had little connection with St Gregory's. His friend Dr 3f Donne died in 1630. In 1633, the Puritan Archbishop Abbott followed him to his rest, and was succeeded by Laud, who had been Bishop of London from 1628. To the new archbishop, the doctrines and strong anti-popish feelings of Adams must have been highly distasteful. Lectureships the Archbishop disliked. They only gratified, he thought, ' itching ears,' and tempted men to discuss affairs of State. On these questions the dean and chapter seem to have sided on the whole with the archbishop. Nor was the building at St Gregory's in a favourable condition for preaching. Mr Inigo Jones had sawn through the pillars of the gallery, and had removed a large part of the roof. All through there is reason to believe that Adams' sympathies were with the parish.

At all events, he is from 1630 to 1636 rector of St Bennet's, and here he remains, it seems, till his death. When, or under what circumstances, this took place we are not told.

It is stated, indeed, by Newcourt, and repeated by Walker, that Adams of St Bennet's was sequestered in the days of the Commonwealth. But this statement is not in itself probable, nor does it rest on any satisfactory evidence. Let the following, as matters of fact, be noted. Adams' name appears in no official return of silenced ministers, while both Newcourt and Walker have unduly enlarged their lists.-f Out of the eight thousand whom Walker mentions as

* Malcolm's Londinium redivivum, iv. p. 493. Inigo Jones was the king's surveyor (Aitken's Court of James II., p. 403), and seems to be held personally responsible for all that was done. See Rushworth, under date of 19th July 1641.

f See White's Century of Scandalous Ministers.

sequestered, Calamy states, that not more than seventeen hundred are undoubted. Further, it is well known, that many eminent and useful preachers in the city were left untouched by the Government, though they were unfriendly to the new constitution in Church and State. Dr Hall, Dr Wilde, Dv Harding, and many more, continued to preach in their churches without hindrance. To the Presbyterian Triers, Adams' doctrines must have commended him ; while those whom Cromwell appointed in 1653, ' the acknowledged flower of English Puritanism,' were instructed to act upon the principle of rejecting no good and competent minister, ' whether Presbyterian, Independent, Prelatist, or Baptist,' unless his avowed opinions were dangerous to the ruling powers. It deserves also to be noted, that among Adams' patrons were Manchester and Pembroke. To both he has dedicated sermons, and of both he speaks in terms of affectionate intimacy. Both were leading members of the Government, and both were more or less concerned in the very sequestrations of which Adams is said to have been the victim. Once more, the parish of St Bennet's, which was exceedingly small, was united, after the great fire, with that of St Peter's ; and as early as 1636, there is a return of the united income of the two parishes, a return that seems to imply that they were even then under one minister. At all events, the fact is recorded, that in that parish church ' many noblemen and gentlemen worshipped' during the Commonwealth, ' the rector and churchwarden continuing to have the liturgy constantly used, and the sacraments properly administered.'* That Adams should have been sequestered, the popular preacher, the earnest devoted pastor, the sound Calvinist, the strenuous opponent of the Papacy, the personal friend of the family of Pembroke, who lived in the parish, and had his children baptized at the parish church is highly improbable. It is true, he did not believe in Presbytery and Synod ; but neither did many others who were never molested. It is likely he vv^ished for the Restoration, but not more earnestly than Manchester and Pembroke, his patrons, nor sooner than moderate men of all parties. In short, if Adams were sequestered, it must have been for some fault of which his works give no trace, through strange forgetfulness on the part of his friends, or through gross injustice on the part of the Government. And yet, in 1653, he was passing, as he tells us, a 'necessitous and decrepit old age.' Nor is this surprising. His preachership at Sr Gregory's was in the gift of the minor canons, and was very scantily paid. In 1639, all cathedral property was declared forfeit, and was ordered to be appropriated to the increase of small livings,

* Malcolm ii. 472.

or to other purposes. In 1G42 at latest, this order was carried out in the case of St Paul's. The rectories of St Bennet's and St Peter's were in the gift of the dean and chapter, and were largely dependent on cathedral funds. The two yielded at most dC128 a-year; and at the Restoration, it was reckoned that a hundred of this sum had disappeared. From 1G36, therefore, till the time of his death, Adams must have been supported, in part at least, by the bounty of his friends.

The distinction is perhaps practically of small moment. Whether Adams were himself sequestered, or the income of his living transferred, on general grounds, to other purposes, or withheld by those who availed themselves of the troubles of the times ' to cheat the parson,' he was in any case equally deprived of his support. But it is some comfort to believe that he suffered through no personal hostility, and on no personal grounds, but through the working of a system which affected multitudes besides, and which is to be defended, not by proving the immorality or the deficiencies of the sufferers, but on general policy. The distinction is as just to Adams's opponents as to Adams himself.

A word or two on the friends to whom Adams has dedicated his sermons. The tendencies of Sir Henry Martin, Laud has indicated, and Clarendon notes incidentally, that he was counsel against the canons adopted by convocation, and not likely ' to oversee any advantages' that could be urged on the side of his clients.* The very year in which *" r H. Martin was 'speaking irreverently' of the communion table, Adams was dedicating to him, with many expressions of esteem, his Commentary on St Peter. Sir Henry Montague, who was Adams' ' first patron,' had been Recorder of London, and was Lord Chief-Justice of England in 1618. His character has been sketched by Lord Chancellor Clarendon,t and at greater length, though less favourably, by Lord Campbell.]: He was held in esteem by all parties, as a man of high principle, and of fair ability. He presided at the final trial of Sir Walter Raleigh, and is said to have conducted that painful business with more propriety and good feeling than were usual in those times. He died before ' the conflict of great principles,' the Rebellion ; but his tendencies may be learned from the character of his son.

Edward Montague, as Lord Kimbolton, was the only member of the House of Peers whom Charles I. included in his indictment of the 'five members' of the House of Commons. In the civil wars he took an active part, as Earl of Manchester, on the side of the

* History, i. 317. t Eislory, i. % Lives o/the Clwf-Justices, i. 361.

m MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

Parliament, and was commander at Marston Moor; but after the battle of Newbury he was suspected of favouring the king's interest. He was a decided friend of the Restoration, and immediately after it was appointed chamberlain. During the Commonwealth he was at the head of the Commission of Sequestrators for the University of Cambridge, and appointed one of his chaplains, Ashe, a friend of Fuller's, one of the sequestrators.* He was throughout the protector of the Nonconformists, and is said to have been a special friend of Richard Baxter's.-f*

William, Earl of Pembroke, Clarendon tells us, ' was most universally beloved and esteemed of any man of his age ; and having a great office in the court, he made the court itself better esteemed, and more reverenced in the country.';]: He was 'the Pembroke' of Ben. Jonson's well known epitaph, and was nephew of Sir Philip Sydney ; being himself also a poet. In 1616, he was elected Chancellor of the University of Oxford. He greatly offended the king by voting for the execution of the Earl of Strafford, and was afterwards intimately connected with the Duke of Northumberland, and other members of the liberal party. He died suddenly in 1630. His brother Philip, who succeeded to the title, was one of the lay members of the Westminster Assembly,§ and afterwards a friend of the Restoration. Both brothers resided in Baynard's Castle, and both were attendants at St Bennet's. There are entries in the parish records, between 1650 and 1655, of the * christening' of five of Philip's children. The Earl of Kent and the Viscount Rochfort, to whom others of Adams' volumes are dedicated, belonged to the same party, and their names appear again and again, with those of Pembroke and Essex, in the records of the civil war. If men are known by their friends, it is not difficult to gather from these facts the leanings and temper of our author. No supporter could he be of the tyranny or of the Popish tendencies of the court; but neither was he prepared for the Presbyterianism or the Independency, for the autocratic Protectorate, or the Republicanism that seemed to threaten on either hand. Like Baxter, he was sure of the gospel; while as for parties, he found that in the end, as they grew and developed, he could side wholly with none.

Judging from the general tenor of Adams's writings, it is not easy at first to explain his retaining the living at Wingrave while he was lecturer at St Gregory's, and afterwards while he was rector at St Bennet's. Still less can we account for the apparent fact that

* Neal, iii. 96. t Baxter's Life, ii. p. 289. % History, 88.

§ Fuller's History, book xi., sec. 5. See also Collins's Memorials, ii. 359.

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS. XVU

he was at once vicar of Wingrave, rector of St Bennct's in 1630, and, if we may trust the title-page of his Commentary on St Peter, rector of St Gregory's in 1633. Perhaps the true explanation is to be found, in part, in the fact that St Bennet's Church was really in St Gregory's Parish, and that when St Gregory's Church was given to the minor canons of St Paul's, St Gregory's Parish was often served by one pastor, who was called indiscriminately by the name of either of the churches. This supposition will appear the more probable when it is remembered that the sermon on the 'Happiness of the Church' is dedicated, in the original edition, to his parishioners of St Gregory's, and his collected works, to his parishioners of St Bennet's, in both cases in nearly the same xuords. This second dedication could have been no compliment, except in the supposition that the parishioners were the same. Still he was vicar of Wingrave and rector of St Gregory's, i.e., of St Bennct's. Is this consistent with his recorded sentiments ? * We have, every one,' says he, ' our own cures; let us attend them. Let us not take and keep livings of a hundred or two hundred a year, and allow a poor curate (to supply the voluntary negligence of our non-residence) eight or (perhaps somewhat bountifully) ten pounds yearly, scarce enough to maintain his body, not a doit for his study. He spoke sharply (not untruly) that called this usury, and terrible usury. Others take but ten in the hundred ; these take a hundred for ten. What say you to those that undertake two, three, or four great cures, and physic them all by attorneys ? These physicians love not their patients, nor Christ himself* So he writes ; and yet he seems in the same context to meet what was probably his own case,—' Not but that preaching to our own charge, may yield to a more weighty dispensation. When the vaunts of some heretical Goliah shall draw us forth to encounter him with weapons, against whom we cannot draw the sword of our tongues, when the greater business of God's church shall warrant our non-residence to an inferior, then, and upon these gi'ounds, we may be tolerated by another Physician to serve our cures (for so I find our charges, not without allusions to this metaphor, called) ; a physician, I say, that is a skilful divine, not an illiterate apothecary, an insufficient reader.'

The lawfulness of such an arrangement was certainly not lessened by its always ending in plethoric wealth. Adams' writings shew very clearly that the holder of two pieces of preferment might still be poor. ' The minister of the parish,' says he, ' shall hardly get from his patron the milk of the vicarage ; but if he looks for the fleece of * Physic from Heaven.

VOL III b

XVIU MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

the parsonage, lie shall have (after the proverb) Lanam Caprinam; a goat's fleece,—contempt and scorn.' * * Christ sends tis,' he says again, ' as lambs among wolves. If they cannot devour our flesh, they will pluck our fleeces ; leave us nothing but the tag-locks, poor vicarage-tithes : while themselves and their children are kept warm in our wool, the parsonage. Nay, and they would clip ofl" the tag-locks too, raven up the vicarages, if the law would but allow them a pair of shears. Every gentleman thinks the priest mean ; but the priest's means have made many a gentleman.'t And again, ' To cozen the ministers of their tithes in private, or to devour them in public, and to justify it when they have done'— this is general—' to laugh at the poor vicar that is glad to feed on crusts, and to spin out twenty marks a year into a thread as long as his life; while the wolf inns a crop worth three hundred pounds per annum,'—this is very definite, what if it be personal!—' this is a prey somewhat answerable to the voracity of their throats. Let every man, of what profession soever, necessary or superfluous, be he a member or a scab of the commonwealth, live ; and the priest be poor, they care not.'

In those days there were upwards of 4000 non-resident livings out of 12,000, and upwards of 8000 held practically by lay impropriators, ij; The first fact justifies Adams' denunciation of non-residence ; the second justifies the holdmg of two or more livings by one man. At Wingrave, it may be added, the chief revenues belonged to the lay rector—not Egerton ; so that, with both vicarage and preachership, it is probable Adams had but a scanty support.

This much, though but little, on Adams' personal history.

It is hardly needful to add that the writer of these volumes is not Thomas Adam, the rector of Wintringham, in Lincolnshire, the author of ' Private Thoughts,' and of various expositions and sermons published posthumously. He died in 1784?.

Nor is he the Thomas Adams of Calamy's Nonconformist Memorial. This Adams was the younger brother of Richard Adams, one of the editors of Chamock's works on ' Providence and on the Attributes,' and son of the rector of Worrall, in Cheshire. He was admitted Bachelor of Arts at Cambridge in 1644. Afterwards he Avent to Oxford and became a Fellow of Brazennose. In 1655, he left his fellowship, and was appointed to the rectory of St Mildred's, Bread Street, London.§ In 1662, he was removed for nonconformity

* The Sinner's Passing Bell. f The Wolf Worrying the Lambs.

X Ichahod, or Five Groans of the Cliurch. Camb., 1663. Quoted by Stanford.

g Wood's Athena: Oxon. Calamy's Nonconformist's Mem.

and afterwards resided in the families of Sir S. Jones and the Countess Dowager of Clare. He died in 1C70.

Tlie Thomas Adams just named belonged to a family of clergymen ; their names and history are given in Wood, but our author is not amongst them.

Lipscomb has dignified the writer of these volumes with the degree of M.A., and elsewhere he is styled B.D. and D.D., but there is no evidence that he really attained these dignities. His learning and ability are undoubted ; and he speaks as one who had been at a university, and who greatly valued a university education. But his name occurs in no college list, nor is he known to any of the historians of either Oxford or Cambridge.

These last results are of small positive value, but they are worth stating. They narrow the field of future inquiry, they correct some popular impressions, and they tell us in some degree who and what Adams was not.

The precise position of Adams in relation to the civil history, the ecclesiastical discussions, and the literature of his age, it is important to settle. That position illustrates both his character and his writings.

In France, Henry the Fourth having recently displeased Elizabeth, and belied his whole life by professing the Catholic faith though still a friend to Protestants, had gone, towards the close of the earlier half of James's reign, to his account, cut off prematurely by the dagger of an assassin. Holland had declared her independence, and was now deciding against Arminius. In England, the Hampton Court Conference had disappointed the Puritan party, and had strengthened the High Church tendencies of King James ; the nobility and king had been providentially saved from the gunpowder-treason ; the new translation of the Bible had just been completed, and was now winning its way into general acceptance. Raleigh, the prince of merchant adventurers, was prosecuting his romantic career, and was soon to expiate his misfortunes by an unjust death on the scaffold. The Court of High Commission was strengthening its power, and preparing for the disastrous usurpations of Strafford and Laud. A considerable portion of the clergy and laity of England were beginning to be weaned from the Established Church. Scotland had recently resisted the attempt to impose upon her Episcopal forms. Scandals, both ecclesiastical and civil, were extending on all sides; good men were alienated from their old friends by ecclesiastical tyranny, and by childish petulance. A civil war seemed even now at hand. What Adams

,5EX MEMOIK OF THOMAS ADAMS.

thouglit of several of these events, we know. Of others, he has spoken never a word.

Ecclesiastically, matters stood thus. James had come to the throne at the beginning of the seventeenth century, with a strong preference for Calvinism, and with strong aversion to Popery. These feelings were gradually toned down, till, after the Synod of Dort, he became a friend of the Arminian party ; and the Papacy itself he began to treat with indulgence. In 1622, he published directions to his clergy, to the effect that ' no preacher under a bishop or a dean should presume to preach on the deep points of predestination or election,' ' that no preacher should use railing speeches against Papists or Puritans,' and ' that no parson, vicar, curate, or lecturer, should preach any sermon in the afternoon, but expound the Catechism, Creed, or Ten Commandments.' In this last direction, Adams and all probably agreed; the two former must have been very distasteful to him and to many. They were specially aimed at that party in the Church who had hitherto dwelt, in their preaching, on the doctrines of grace, as they were called. This party included many eminent men ; and they were sustained by several, who themselves dwelt seldom on these doctrines, but still questioned the propriety of the king's directions. Archbishop Abbot and Dr Davenant, Bishop of Salisbury, were among their leaders. The very year in which Adams published his collected works. Bishop Davenant lost favour at Court, by preaching on predestination, and for the same offence, several clergymen were severely punished. The whole party were called Doctrinal Puritans, and Adams was undoubtedly among them.

Sometimes these Doctrinal Puritans were defined in other ways. Bancroft and Laud were both admirers of a ceremonial religion. They held opinions on rites and forms hardly consistent with the simplicity and spirituality of Protestantism. Sometimes it was the question of kneeling at the Lord's supper, and bowing at the emblems ; sometimes of signing with the cross in baptism ; oftenest it was the question of whether the communion table was to be regarded as an altar. But whatever the exact question, it had always the same issue. ' These forms,' it was said on the one side, ' are spiritual symbols, and they are essential. They represent great truths.' * Leave them indifferent,' it was said on the other, ' and we may observe them ; make them obligatory, because important, and they become at once substantially Popery, and we cannot adopt them.' ' Doctrinal Papists,' the advocates of them were called, and under that name they are the opposite of ' Doctrinal Puritans,' Dr Williams, the Bishop of Lincoln, had recently created

a great ferment, by publishing in favour of the Puritan views. Several clergymen were compelled by Laud to resign their livings, and some few were (to use King James's phrase), * harried out of the land.' Thirty years later, they would have joined the Nonconformists of 1G62. They shared by anticipation in their nonconformity, and they agreed in their doctrinal views.

Perhaps Adams' sympathies were less decidedly with Williams than with Davenant. Judging from his works, he would probably never have left the Church on a question of forms ; though ready to leave it if necessary, on a question of doctrine. Doctrinal Puritanism he loved; the connection between certain rites and Doctrinal Popery he did not clearly see. And if he feared it, he so prized unity, and dreaded division, that he preferred quietly to preach the truth and use his liberty, leaving to others the discussion and the settlement of such questions. There are passages in his writings, which imply that he deemed the Puritans (as they were called), right in every thing, except in their ' schismatic spirit.' ' They,' he tells us, ' are the unicorns that wound the Church. Their horn, the secret of their strength, is precious enough, if only it were out of the unicorn's head !'

Some were schismatical beyond question. But does not a large portion of the guilt of schism lie at the door of those who were bent on making obligatory and essential what are at any rate non-essentials, whether of practice or of faith? Such is Coleridge's decision—a decision he defends with loving sympathy for the men, and by undoubted facts.

Adams's relation to the general literature of his age must also be settled.

In his youth he was the contemporary of the race that adorned the reign of Elizabeth,—Spenser, and Shakespeare, and Jonson, Bacon and Raleigh. Among the men of his own age were Bishops Hall, and Andrewes, Sibbes, the author of the 'Bruised Reed' and ' The Soul's Conflict,' Fuller the historian, and now in the church and now out of it, Hildersham, and Byfield, and Cartwright. Earle was busy "writing and publishing hisMicrocosmography,andOverbury had already issued his ' Characters.' A little before him flourished Arminius and Whitgiffc, Hooker and Reynolds ; and a little after him, Hammond and Baxter, Taylor and Barrow, Leighton and Howe. There is evidence that Adams had read the works of several of his contemporaries and predecessors ; and he has been compared with nearly all the writers we have named. His scholarship reminds the reader of that 'great gulf of learning,' Bishop Andrewes. In sketching a character, he is not inferior to Overbury or Earle

vni MEMOIB OF THOMAS ADAMS.

In fearless denunciations of sin, in pungency and pathos, he is sometimes equal to Latimer or to Baxter. For fancy, we may, after Southey, compare him with Taylor ; for wit, with Fuller ; while in one sermon, at least—that on ' The Temple'—there is an occasional grandeur, that brings to memory the kindred treatise of Howe. Joseph Hall is probably the writer he most resembles. In richness of scriptural illustration, in fervour of feeling, in soundness of doctrine, he is certainly equal; in learning, and power, and thought, he is superior.

In this last paragraph a high place is assigned to Adams for the literary qualities of his writings. Apart from the excellence of his thoughts, the language and the imagery in which he clothes them are very attractive. Herein he differs from many of the Puritan Divines, and on the scholar and student he has peculiar claims. Indeed, for ' curious felicity' of expression he is almost alone among the evangelical authors of his agej*

A few specimens may be selected. Like all extracts, however, they do scanty justice to the beauty of the passages whence they are taken. They are gems, but their brilliance depends in part on the setting.

Turn, for a good specimen of his general style, to his description of the Suitors of the Soul, England's Sickness, vol. i. 401.

He gathers illustrations from all sources. From grammar learning:—

' There is a season to benefit, and a season to hurt, by our speech ; therefore it is preposterous in men to be consonants when they should be mutes, and mutes when they should be consonants. But a good life is never out of season.'— Heaven and Earth Reconciled.

'With God, adverbs shall have better thanks than nouns,'— i.e., Not what we do, but how we do it, is the grand question.

From the facts of common life, turned to ingenious uses :—

' We use the ocean of God's bounty as we do the Thames. It yields'us all manner of provision : clothes to cover us, fuel to warm us, food to nourish us, wine to cheer us, gold to enrich us ; and we, in recompense, soU it with our rubbish and filth. Such toward God is the impious ingratitude of this famous city. She may not unfitly be compared to certain pictures that represent to divers beholders, at divers stations, divers forms. Looking one way, you see a beautiful virgin ; another way, some deformed monster. View her peace : she is fairer than the daughters of men. View her pride : the children of the Amorites are beauteous to her. When we think of her prosperity, we wonder at her impiety; when we think of her impiety, we wonder at her prosperity. 0 that her citizens would learn to

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ABAMS. XXlll

manage their liberal fortunes with humility and sobriety ! that when death shall disfranchise them here, they may be made free above, in the triumphant city, where glory hath neither measure nor end.'— The City of Peace.

From ripe scholarship, that knows how to glean in all fields, and how to defend the consecration of all to the service of the sanctuary :—

' Learning, as well as office, is requisite for a minister. An unlearned scribe, without his treasure of old and new, is unfit to interpret God's oracles. The priest's lips shall presei'vc knowledge, is no less a precept to the minister, than a promise to the people : we are unfit to be seers, if we cannot distinguish between Hagar and Sarah. A minister without learning is a mere c}-pher which fills up a place, and increascth the number, but signifies nothing. There have been some niggardly afi'ected to learning, calling it man's wisdom. If the moral says of a poet, or a philosopher, or, perhaps, some golden sentence of a father drop from us, it is straight called poisoned eloquence, as if all these were not the spoils of the gentiles, and mere handmaids unto divinity. They wrong us : we make not the pulpit a philosophy, logic, poetry-school; but all these are so many stairs to the pulpit. Will you have it ? the fox dispraiseth the grapes he cannot reach. If they could beat do^vn learning, they might escape censm-e, for their own ignorance. For shame ! Let none that have borne a book dispraise learning. She hath enemies enough abroad. She should be justified of her own children. Let Barbaiy disgi-ace arts, not Athens.

With all this richness of fancy, there is a plainness and a directness of speech, that often reminds the reader of honest Latimer:—

* Give, then, your physician leave to fit and apply his medicines, and do not you teach him to teach you. Leave your old adjurations to your too obsequious chaplains, if there be any such yet remaining. Speak unto us smooth things, p-ophecrj deceits. Threaten your priests no longer with such expulsions from these poor vineyards which you have erst robbed, because they bring you sour gi-apes, sharp wine of reproofs. Bar not the freedom of these tongues, by tying them to conditions : this you shall say, and this not say, on pain of my displeasure. You may preach against sins, but not meddle with the pope ; or you may inveigh against Rome and idolatry, so you touch not my Herodias ; or you may tax lust, so you let me alone with Naboth's vineyard. As if the gospel might be preached with your limitations ; and, forsaking the Holy Ghost, we must come to fetch directions from your hps.'

Or, again:—

' If we equal Israel in God's blessings, we transcend them in our sins. The blood-red sea of war and slaughter, wherein other nations are drowned, is become dry to our feet of peace. The bread of heaven, that tnie manna satisfies our hunger, and our thirst is quenched with the waters of life. The better law of the gospel is given to us, and our saving health is not like

a curious piece of array folded up, but is spread before our believing eyes ■v\-itbout any shadow cast over the beauty of it. We bave a better High Priest to make intercession for us in heaven, for whom he bath once sacrificed and satisfied upon earth, actu semel, virtute semioer, with one act, but with virtue everlasting. We want nothing that heaven can help us to, but that which we voluntarily will want, and without which we had better have wanted all the rest, thankfulness and obedience. We give God the worst of all tilings, that hath given us the best. We call out the bad sheep for his tithe, the sleepiest hours for his prayers, the chippings of our wealth for his poor, a corner of the heart for his ark, when Dagon sits uppermost in his temple. We give God measure for measure, but after an ill sort. For his blessings heapen, and shaken, and thrust together, iniquities pressed down and yet running over. He hath bowels of brass and a heart of iron, that cannot mourn at this our requital.'

Yet withal he is full of tenderness :—

* The sins of our times I would arraign, testif}^ against, condemn, have executed : the persons, I would have saved in the day of the Lord.'— The White Devil.

The sins he most earnestly rebukes are drunkenness,* litigious-ness, and the quirks of the law, ' engrossing,' swearing, and rapacity, while he never fails to note that unbehef and unthankfulness,— the sins of the heart,—are at once the source and the chief of them all.

Mark the force and the beauty of the following, culled at random from his pages :—

' He that preaches well in his pulpit but lives disorderly out of it, is like a young scribbler ; what he writes fair with his hand, his sleeve comes after and blots.'

' As Christ once, so his word often, is crucified between two thieves, the papist on the left hand and the schismatic on the right.'

' Every one can lesson us, that will not be lessoned by us. Not that we refuse knowledge from, any lips, since nothing can be spoken well but by God's Spirit, who sometimes reproves a Jonah by a mariner, Peter by a damsel, and Balaam by an ass.'

* The devil may be within, though he stand not at the door.'

* He swears away that little share of his own soul, which he had left.'

* Every good heart is in some measure scrupulous, and finds more safety in fear than in presumption. I had rather have a servant that will ask his direction twice, than one that runs of his own head without his errand.'

* Yet these men (Garnet, Faux, &c.) must be saints, and stand named

* See, for example, on drunkenness, The Divine Herbal, Works, ii. 443; ITie Black Saint, i. 48 : On litigiousness, 21ie City of Peace, ii. 322, &c. For a very impressive view of the evil of sin, see his remarks on the last state of a bad man worse than the first, in The Black Saint, ii. 65.

with red letters on the pope's calendar : red indeed! So dyed with the martyi-ed blood of God's servants !'

' Only death restrains the wicked man from doing any fm-thor mischief. Perhaps, he may give away some pa}Tnents in his testament, but he parts with it, in his will against his will: and it is but a part, whereas Judas returned all, yet went to hell!'

' Let good fellows sit in a tavern from sun to sun, and they think the day very short, confessing (though insensible of their loss) that time is a light-heeled nmner. Bind them to the church for two hours, and you put an ache into their bones, the seats be too hard. Now time is a creeple, and many a wearj' look is cast up to the glass. It is a man's mind that renders any work troublesome or pleasant.'

'Fire and fagot is not God's law, but the pope's cannon shot.'

' They plead antiquity, as a homicide may derive his murder from Cain. They plead unity : so Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians, combined against Christ. They plead vmiversaUty : yet of the ten lepers but one was thankful. Where many join in the truth, there is the church; not for the many's sake, but for the truth's. The vulgar stream will bring no vessel to the land of peace.'

As a preacher and a divine, he has many excellencies, though they are not unmixed with grave faults, which belong, however, as much to his age as to himself.

In the subjects of his sermons, and generally in his choice of texts, he is remarkably felicitous. * The Way Home,' ' The City of Peace,' ' The Saints Meeting,' ' Majesty in Misery,' ' Semper Idem,' ' Heaven and Earth Reconciled,' ' The Mystical Bedlam,' ' The Sinner's Passing Bell,' ' The Fatal Banquet,' ' The Shot or Reckoning,' ' Presumption running into Despair :' each suggests a beautiful or striking thought, while the text is in every case itself a sermon. Have we rightly appreciated in the modern pulpit the importance of a good text ? Great thoughts ought to underlie our discourses. If the reader will study those of our Lord, as recorded in St John, or note his touching address at Nazareth, he will feel the force of this suggestion. It is one secret of Adams's power.

Nor is it to be overlooked that he deals largely in expositions of Scripture. He does not, indeed, busy himself to shew the connection or to trace the undercurrent of thought that often runs through chapters and books of the Bible, but in verbal expositions he is rich and happy. Many texts will be found set in new lights, while they often reflect something of their own lustre and beauty on the thoughts amid which they stand. The beginning of his sermon on the * City of Peace,' and his sermons on ' England's Sickness,' are good illustrations.

Sometimes his comments are based on mistakes, and sometimes he pushes the interpretation of the letter of Scripture to an extreme ; but his expositions are often both accurate and striking; and they well illustrate the principle, that it is the ministry of the wwd to which the preacher is called. That he did this under the conviction that ' men were not safe while they were ignorant of the Scripture,' is clear from his own teaching.*

Herein we agree entirely in the estimate of a previous editor of some of his works. ' The author leads the reader at once to the Bible. He keeps him there. He analj^ses the words of the passage under consideration. He largely illustrates the historical circumstances. He draws, by easy and natural inference, suitable lessons of a practical character. Analogies start up ; these are instantly dealt with. Fables, anecdotes, classical poetry, gems from the fathers and other old writers, are scattered over nearly every page. But the starting-point is evermore the language of holy Scripture. We confess that, apart from all other attractions, we have a growing conviction of the incomparable superiority of this mode of teaching rehgion over every other. It has prevailed in every age of the Church in which Christianity has flourished.' f

His theology may be defined most briefly, though somewhat unhappily, as anti-popish, Calvinistic, and evangelical.

Hear, for example, how he speaks, in spite of the king's injunctions and Laud's tendencies :—

' Judas was a great statesman in the devil's commonwealtli, for he bore four main offices. Either he begged them shamefully, or he bought them bribinglv, or else Beelzebub saw desert in him, and gave him them gratis for his good parts. He was hypocrite, thief, traitor, and murderer. Yet the pope will vie offices with him, and win the game, too, for plurality. .... But let bim go. I hope he is known well enough; and every true man will bless bim self out of his way.'— TJie White Devil.

Again—

* The favour of God overshadows us, as the cherabim did the mercy-seat. I know that Rome frets at this; and let the harlot rage her heart out. She thunders out curses; but (blessed be God) we were never more prosperous than when the pope most cursed us. Yea, 0 Lord, though they curse, do thou bless. Convert or confound them that have ill-will to Sion ; and still let us inherit thy peace, that thou mayest inherit our praise.'— Phi/sic from Heaven.

How keen is the following :—

' The Pope plucks us by the sleeve (as a tradesman that would fain have

* ' Physic from Heaven.'

■j- Introduction to Selections from Adams's Works, bv Dt Stowell, p. xxii.

our money), and tells us that ho only hath the balm, and shews us his mass-book. If we suspect it there, he warrants the virtue from a general council. K it doth not yet smell well, he affirms (not without menacing damnation to our mistrust) that it is even in the closet of his own heart who cannot err. " Tut," says he, " as it grows in God's gai-den simply, it may poison you." As if it were dangerous to be meddled withal till he had played the apothecarj', and adulterated it with his own sophistications.' — Phi/sic from Heaven.

And yet his religion is not hatred of popery simply :—

• Do we justly blame them that worship the Beast of Rome, and yet find out a new idolatiy at home ? Shall we refuse to worship saints and angels, and yet give divine worship to ourselves ? This is a rivahj- that God will not stand.'— The Temple.

Nor is it at all hatred of popish forms: —

' One man,' says he, ' is crop-sick of ceremonies. He hath a toy in his head that the church's garment should not be embroidered, nor have more

lace or fringe than his own coat Rither than his children shall be

crossed in baptism, he will out of the ark into some fantastical wherry. Let him tarry, and hear what the law speaks in its law of peace: In Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth an)jthinfl, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature; i. e., neither ceremony nor no ceremony, but the substantial: a new creature.'— The City of Peace.

His Calvinism may be judged from the following:—

' The first-horn, ichich are urittcn in heaven. —This is a description of the persons of whom the chmxh consists. The church itself is a number of men whom God hath set apart by an eternal decree, and in time sanctified to become real membere of it. They are written in heaven; there is their eternal election: and they are the,/j/s?-bom, i. e., new-bom; there is their sanctification. For the two parts of the description—their primogeniture and registering in God's books—are but boiTowed speeches, whereby God would ratify the everlasting predestination and salvation of

his chiu-ch A man may have his name wi-itten in the chronicles,

yet lost; written in durable mai'ble, yet perish; written on a monument equal to a colossus, yet be ignominious; written on the hospital gates, yet go to hell; written on his own house, and yet another come to possess it. All these are but writings in the dust and upon the waters, where the characters perish as soon as they are made. They no more prove a man happy than the fool could prove Pontius Pilate a saint because his name was wTitteu in the creed. But they that are written in heaven are sure to inherit it.'— The Happiness of the Church.

Again—

' The church may be sick, yet not die. Die it cannot; for the blood of an Eternal King bought it, the power of an Eternal Spirit preserves it, and the mercy of an Eternal God shall crown it.'— En'jlamVs Sickness.

XXVIU MEMOIB OF THOMAS ADAMS.

And yet this view is so guarded by explanations and so blended with distinct announcements on the sufficiency of Christ's work and grace, that Adams is as fair a representative of Calvinistic doctrine as Calvin himself

' It was not one for one that Christ died, not one for many, but one for all, .... and this one must needs be of infinite price.' *

His commentary on the second of Peter abounds with felicitous expositions of difficult questions in relation to these doctrines.

For illustrations of the evangelical spirit of Adams, the reader must turn to his writings. When he treats of evangelical doctrine, he writes carefully and clearly. His remarks on the Fatherhood of God, on Christ's sacrifice for sin, on imputed righteousness, on faith and how it saves, on the inseparable union of pardon and holiness, though not suggested by any modern controversies, shew, by their sweep and far-reaching application, that they are great truths he is describing, and that he perceives the breadth and bearing of the truths he describes.!

It is not, however, in distinct statements of doctrine that his love of the gospel appears, so much as in the general tone of his writings. Herein he resembles Baxter rather than Owen. His gospel is all-pervading ; and his treatises are not lectures but sermons,—popular appeals to those whom he is seeking to reclaim and to save.

Generally he is rather clear and vigorous than emotional. Yet there are passages in which evangelical truth is steeped in feeling. His description of the state of the impenitent, and of the tears that ought to be wept over them, and elsewhere of ' the fulness that is in Jesus,' J it is impossible to read without deepest sympathy. They shew, like the account he has given in one of his dedications of the exhausting anxieties of a London pastorate, that the writer's heart was as warm as his head was clear. His gospel was an affection as much as a creed. While he shunned not to 'declare the'whole counsel of God,' ' night and day he warned every man with tears,' ' that he might be pure from their blood.' And this is surely his highest praise. Herein he followed an apostle, and herein, with reverence be it s])oken, he followed his Lord.

♦ See on predestination tne cause of no man s ruin, ' Man's Seed-time and Harvest,' vol. ii. 364-5: On original sin, and the wisdom of spending strength in correcting it, rather than in investigating its origin, ' Meditations upon the Creed,' Works, vol. iii.

f See ' England's Sickness,' i. p. 395-437 ; ' The Wolf Worrying the Lamb,' ii. p. 114 ; ' Faith's Encouragement,' ii. 203, &c.; 'Bad Leaven,' ii. 342.

X See ' Meditations upon the Creed/ Works, iii., under the word Jesus.

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS. XHX

It has already been intimated that most of the facts of Adams's life are gathered from his own writings, and especially from the prefaces and dedicatory epistles prefixed to his sermons, as they were first published. These prefaces we now proceed to give. With two exceptions, they are not inserted in the folio edition of his works, published by himself in 1G29. That edition is the basis of the text adopted in these volumes ; and as it contains the last touches of the author's own hand, it is entitled to that honour. But the prefaces are well worth preserving. They throw light upon the character of the writer. They are also rich in noble trutlis. All that can be obtained are here given, and the preface to the Commentary on 2d Peter is added, to complete the series.

His works may be best arranged in the order in which he wrote them, or where this is not known, in the order in whicli he published them. The ' Epistles Dedicatorie' and the ' Addresses to the Reader' are taken from the 4to editions. The words in brackets give the alterations he made in the titles for the folio edition.

The Gallant's Burden : A Sermon, preached at Paul's Cross, the 29th of March, being the fifth Sundaj in Lent, 1612. By Thomas Adams.

PubUshed by authority.

London : Printed by W. W., for Clement Knight, and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Holy Lamb. 1G14.

To the Honourable Sir William Gostwicke Baronet, and his worthy Lady, the Lady Jane Gostwicke. Honourable Sir, —I acknowledge freely, that the world is oppressed with the press, and the confluence of books hath bred a confusion of errors, of vices, so hard it is to distinguish betwixt profitable and vain writings ; and having called out the best, so easy it is with so much good meat to surfeit; yet it is not, therefore, meat unnecessary. It is no sober inference, because both text and readers have been corrupted with false glosses, to reject all expositions, all applications; both are fit, this latter most necessary, for our understanding is better than our conscience; there is some light in our minds, httle warmth in our aflections. So against natm-e is it true in this, that the essential qualities of fire, Hght, and heat, are dinded; and to say, whether ovu hght of knowledge be more, or our heat of devotion less, is beyond meed. Let this (considered) plead for me, that I (do but) rub this sorrowing knowledge m us, to bring it back to some life of obedience. If any feel theh thick eyes hence to receive any clearness, or their numbed aflections to gather (the least) spirit, let them at once give God the glory, and take to themselves the comfort. Sin hath got strength with age, and, agauast all natmal order, is more powerful, subtle, and fuller of active dexterity now in the dotage of it, than it was in the nonage. Both pulpit and press are weak enough to resist it. If, therefore, this small aiTOW of reproof can wound (but even) one of his limbs, it shall a httle euenate hia tyranny. Whatsoever this sermon is, it is wholly yours, and he that made it, whose patronage I could not be ambitious of, if I should only fix my

eyes on my own deservings; but in the affiance of your good natures, mature judgments, and kind constructions of my weak endeavours, I have presumed to make you the patron of my labours, who was freely the patron of myself. I know that God's word can countenance itself, and needs not the shelter of an human arm, not though it had as many Edomites to deride it, as it hath patrons to defend it; but I find not only the best writings of the best men, but even some of those holy books, inspired from heaven, bearing in their foreheads (as from the penmen) a dedication. I confess, it is not all for your protection, somewhat for your use ; and you are blessed in favouring that which shall be best able to favom' you. May I, therefore, entreat yom- honours to give it happy entertainment to your own hearts, favourable protection to the world's eyes ? so shall that and myself be (yet more) yours. The God of all power and mercy be as faithful a shadow of refreshing to your souls, as your kindness hath been free to my wants, who must ever remain.

Your honoui-s's, in all faithful observance,

Tho. Adams.

Sir William Gostwicke, to whom this volume is dedicated, was Lord of the Manor at Willington, the parish in which Adams was then labouring.

Heaven and Earth Reconciled [united] : A Sermon preached at St Paul's Church, in Bedford, October 3. 1612, at the visitation of the Right Wor. M. Elaner, Archdeacon of Bedford. By Thomas Adams, Minister of the Gospel at Willington.

2 Cor. V. 19.

London: Printed by W. W., for Clement Knight, and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Holy Lamb. 1613.

To the Right Honourable Lord Heney, Earl of Kent, Lord of Hastings, Weisford, and Ruthyn.

Right Honourable, —I know not under whose wings I might better shelter an apology for the ministry, than under your honour's, who have ever lived a ready patron to defend us from the oppositions and wrongs of our adversaries ; making them no friends to yourself that are enemies to the gospel; wherein you have procm-ed some (blessed) trouble to yourself, by frequent complaints ; deserved great love of your country, and secured your soul of an eternal recompence. Let it be your praise, happiness, comfort, that you have not only not lived in opposition to the truth, as our refractoiy papists; nor in the lukewarm neutrality of this age, that conceives a mixed religion, compounded of Zion's and Babylon's; nor thought it enough to coimtenance preachers, as some that would make God beholden to them for their looks; but you have stood to, seconded, succoured, and (which is yet a higher testimony) relieved many a distressed servant of the Lord, not with Micha's wages, or pittances of charity, but with ample rewards, worthy your honour's bounty to give, and their necessity to receive. Let all these true and happy reasons plead for and (somewhat) justify my ambition, that have dared to look so high for patronage as your honour. Worthier pens have contented themselves with meaner protections. It is not the excellency of the work, but the noble-

ness of 3-onr disposition, that cncouragcth me, who am thence prompted not to foar your acceptation. You that have been so general a shadow of refreshing to ministers, take from me all cause to distrust your favour; specially in the countenancing of that written, which you have ever actually and really furthered. Proceed (most honoured lord) to aflcct the truth (yet) more zealously, by your help to support it, by your favour to protect it; so shall you make blessed use of that honour God hath here invested you withal, and interest yourself to the honour of heaven; and whiles nobility without religion dies in infamy, and is buried in the grave of oblivion, your noble zeal, or zealous nobleness, shall live here to your Maker's glorj' and the church's comfort, and hereafter leave behind it a never-decaying monument of honour, which, if the ingratitude of men should forget, shall never pass the hand of God vmrewarded with glory. This book salutes your honour with the new year ; may they both give you happy content! The God of mercies multiply his favours and gi-aces on you, and make your cup to run over with his blessings! Your honour's humbly devoted,

Tho. Adams.

The Earl of Kent was a member of the liberal party, and a man of very moderate ability, Clarendon says. Judging from Adams's epistle, he must have been a lover of the gospel, and of all good men.

The Devil's Banquet, Described in Six Sermons :—1. The Banquet Propounded, Begun ; 2. The Second Service ; 3. The Breaking up of the Feast; 4. The Shot or Reckoning; 5. The Sinner's Passing Bell; 6. Physic from Heaven. Published by Thomas Adajis, Preacher of God's Word at Willington, in Bedfordshii'e. [The Fatal Banquet.]

Amos vi. 7.

Ambros de Poenit.—Pascitur libido conviviis, nutritur deliciis, vino accen-ditur, ebrietate flammatur. Lust is fed with feasts, fatted with pleasures, fired with wine, made flaming with drunkenness.

London: Printed by Thomas Snodham, for Ralph Mab, and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Greyhound. 1614.

To the very Worthy and Virtuous Gentleman, Sir George Fitz-Jeoffert, Knight, one of his Majesty's Jiistices of the Peace and Quorum in the County of Bedford; saving health.

Right Worshipful, —This sermon, though it be bom last, was not so conceived. But as it came to pass in Tamar's travail of her twins, though Zarah put forth his hand first, and had a scarlet thread tied to it, the distinguishing mark of primogeniture, yet his brother Pharez was born before him, I intended this subject to a worthy audience, fastening my meditations on it; but soon finding that I had grasped more sands than I could force through the glass in two hours, and loath to injure my proposed method, I let it sleep till fitter opportunity might awaken it. Now, behold, without the common plea of this writing age, the importmiato request of friends, I willingly adventure it to the light; and since your favour to my weak (or rather no) deserts hath been ever full of real encouragcn^ents; since your aiiection to hteratui-e (and the best of learning, the gospel) hath ever vouch-

XXXll MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

safed a friendly countenance to your neighbour-ministers, I could not make myself so liable to the censure of ingratitude as not to entreat your name for patronage, which, though it deserves better acknowledgment, and finds it from more worthy voices, yet I, that yield to all in learning, would yield to none in love and service to you. The cause in question requires a worthy defender, not for its own weakness, but for the multitude and strength of oppositions. Men brook worse to have their sins ransacked than their inveterate wounds and ulcers searched. Qui vinum venenum vocant, they that call drunkenness poisoning speak harsh to their ears that (qimsi deum colunt) embrace and worship it as a god. You are one of that surrogation into whose hands God hath trusted his sword of justice. Draw it in his defence against the enemies of his gi'ace and gospel. You sit at the common stern, and therefore are not so much your own as your country's. Our derided, rejected preaching appeals to your aids; help us with your hands, we will help you with our prayers. With wisdom and courage rule the wild days you live in. Proceed (worthy sir), as you have conformed yourself, to reform others. Reach forth your hand to your confined limits; overturn the table, spoil the banquet, chastise the guests at this riotous feast. You see how justly this poor, weak, coarse-woven labour desires the gloss of your patronage to be set on it. I cannot either distrust your acceptance, knowing the generousness of your disposition, nor need I so much to entreat your private use (who are stored with better instructions) as your commending it to the world. If any good may hereby be encouraged, any evil weakened, my reward is full. The discourse is sexduple, whereof the first fr'uits are yours, whose myself am, that desfre still to continue Your worship's in my best services,

Tho. Adams.

Ad vel in Lectoeem.

Religious reader (for I think few of the profane rabble read any sermons), let me entreat thee for this, that (cum lectoris nomen /eras, ne llctoris offi-cium gerasj thou wouldst accept it, not except against it, and, being but a reader, not usurp the office of a censurer. The main intents of all preachers and the contents of all sermons aim to beat down sin and to convert sinners, which the most absolute and unerring Scriptui-es have shadowed imder divers metaphors, comparing them to beasts, to blots, to sicknesses, to sterilities, to pollutions, to leavenings, to whoredoms, to devils ; ia all which (and many other such figui'ative speeches) I think it lawful, nay, necessary for us, God's ministers, to explain the metaphor, and (stiU within bounds of the similitude) to shew the fit accordance and respondency of the thing meant to the thing mentioned. Indeed, to stretch the text against its own will is to martyr it, and to make every metaphor run upon four feet is often violahile sacris. But so long as we keep the analogy of faith and the sense of the present theme, it is a fault to find with us. Indeed, rhetorical flourishes without solid matter is like an Egyptian bondwoman in a qL'een's robes; or the courtier's chamber, which is often a rotten room, curiously hanged. God's word is full of dark speeches, dark, not in themselves, but to our thick-sighted understandings; therefore, his propositions require expositions. Not that we should turn plain morals into allegories, but allegories into plain morals. The former was Origen's fault, of whom it is said (I speak not to uncover that father's nakedness, but to shew that all men may err, and therefore truth of love must not pre-

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS. XXXIU

judice love of truth) that wherein ho should not allegorize, he did; and wherein he should have allegorized, to his woe he did not. I have presumed, not without wan-ant of the best expositors, to manifest thu manifold temptations of Satan under the harlot's inveigling her customers. 1. As wisdom, ver. 8, sends forth her maidens, her ministers, to invite guests to her feast of grace, so vice sends forth her temptations; nay, she sits at the door herself, ver. 14, and courts the passengers. 2. K wisdom call the ignorant, ver. 4, Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither; as for him that wanteth understanding, she saith, &c. Vice, which is the true foil)', is her zany, and takes the words out of her mouth, ver. IG, Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither; and as for, &c. 3. If wisdom promiseth bread and wine, ver. 5, ' Come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine which I have mingled, sin will promise no less to her guests, ver. 17, Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant. Here is, then, a plain opposition of grace and sin, wisdom and folly, chastity and uncleanness, Christ and the devil. He is mistaken, then, that shall judge me mistaken in this allegory. I stand not so much on the sound as the sense; not so much on the hteral as spiritual meaning. In the fonner I have instanced; insisted on the latter. It should be tedious to give account for every cu'cumstance. The learned and good man will judge favom-ably. To the rest, si quid tu rectius istis protiuus imperii, si non, his utere mecwn. I pass by the trinal objections against sennons in print, as the deadness of the letter, the multitude of books pressing to the press, &c.; as if the eye could give no help to the soul; as if the queasy stomach could not forbear surfeiting; as if some men's sullenness and crying pish at sermons should be prejudicial to others' benefit; as if the prophets had not added hne to line as well as precept upon precept. I hear some idle drones humming out their dry derisions that we will be men in print, slighting the matter for the author's sake; but because their invectives are as impotent as themselves are impudent, I will answer no further than hac culpas, sed tu non meliora facis. Or, to borrow words of the epigrammatist—

Cum tua non edas, carpis mea carmina Leli : Carpere vel noli nostra, vel ede tua.

Sloth sits and censures what th' industrious teach, Foxes dispraise the grapes they cannot reach.

One caveat, good reader, and then God speed thee. Let me entreat thee not to give my book the chopping censure, A word old enough, yet would have a comment. Do not open it at a venture, and, by reading the broken pieces of two or three lines, judge it. But read it through, and then I beg no pardon if thou dislikest it. Farewell.

Thine, Tho. Adams.

The Second SER%acE of the Devil's Banquet. By Thomas Adams, Preacher of God's word at Willington, in Bedfordshire.

Zech. V. 4.

Royard, Homil. i. in 1 Pet. iii.—Reddere bonum pro bono Humanum ; reddero malum pro malo, Belluinam ; reddere malum pro bono, Diaboli-cum ; reddere vero bonum pro malo, Diviuum.

(good for good\ ( man.

evil for evil • ., x /• beast.

•1 f , !-)s the pai-t of a- , .,

evil tor good ^ devil,

good for evil j ( saint.

VOL. Ill C

London : Printed by Thomas Snodham, for John Budge, and are to be sold at the great south door of Paul's, aud at Britain's Burse. 1614.

To the Honourable and Virtuous Lady, the Lady Jane Gostwicke Baronetess,

saving health. Madam, —I am bold to add one book more to your library, though it be but as a mite into your treasury. I that have found you so ever favourable to any work of mine, cannot but confidently hope your acceptance of this; not for the worth of it, but because it bears your name (and my duty to it) in the forehead, and offers itself to the world through your patronage. Somewhat you shall find in it to hearten your love to virtue, much to increase your detestation to vice. For I have to my power endeavoured to unmask the latter, and to spoil it of the borrowed form, that sober eyes may see the true proportion of it, and their loathing be no longer withheld. I cannot doubt, therefore, that your approbation of the book will be frustrated by the title. I am content to furnish out Satan's feast with many special dishes, and to discover the waters of iniquity which he hath broached to the world; not to persuade their pleasure, but lest ignorance should surfeit on them without mistrust, lest the perverted conscience should securely devour them without reprehension. Here you shall see, in a small abridgment, many actual breaches of God's sacred law, not without liableness to condign punishment. You heard it with attention spoken in your private church ; you gave it approval. I trust you will as well own it written. It is not less yom's, though it be made more public. I need not advise you to make your eye an help to your soul, as well as your ear. They that know you, know your apprehension quick, your judgment sound, and (that which graceth all the rest) your affections religiously devoted. Yet since it is no small part of our goodness to know that we may be better, I presume to present this book and (with it) my own duty to your ladyship, the poor testimony of my present thankfulness, and pledge of my future service. The God of power and mercy continue his favours to you, who have stUl continued your favours to

Your honour's humbly devoted

Thomas Adams.

The Breaking up of the Devil's Banquet ; or, the Conclusion. By Thomas Adams, Preacher of God's word at WiUington, in Bedfordshire.

Rom. vi. 21.

Tertul. lib. ad Martyres.—Pax nostra, bellum contra Satanum. To be at war with the devil, is to be at peace with our own conscience.

London : Printed by Thomas Snodham, for John Budge, and are to be sold at the great south door of Paul's, and at Britain's Burse. 1614.

To the Right Virtuous and Worthy Sisters, the Lady Anne Gostwicke and Mrs Diana Bowles, saving health. That I have clothed this sermon in the livery of your patronages, I might give many reasons to satisfy others. But this one to me is, instead of all, that you affect the gospel; not with the sudden flashes of some over-hot dispositions, but with mature discretion and sound obedience. I could not, therefore, suffer any thought of mine own unworthiness to dissuade me from presenting this poor labour to your hands, who have so favourably accepted

my weaker services, I owe you both a treble debt of love, of service, of thankfulness. The former, the more I pay, the more still I owe. The second, I will be ready to pay to the uttermost of my power, though short both of your deserts and my own desires. Of the last, I will strive to give full payment, and in that (if it be possible) to come out of your debts. Of all these, in this small volume, I have given you the earnest. As you would, therefore, do with an ill debtor, take it till more comes. It shall bo the more current, if you will set thereon the seals of your acceptance. It is the latter end of a feast; yet it may perhaps afl'ord you some Christian delicate, to content your well-aflected spirits. It shall let you see the last service of sin's banquet, the harsh and unpleasant closure of vanity, the madness of this doting age, the formal dislike and real love of many to this world, the evil works of some critical, others hypocritical, dispositions, the ending, conclusion, and beginning confusion of the devil's guests. The more perfectly you shall hate sin, the more constantly you shall hold your erst embraced \'irtues ; and so in happy time work out your owa salvations. God give a successful blessing to your Christian endeavours, which shall ever be faithfully prayed for by

Your worships' affectionately devoted

Thomas Adams.

The Shot ; oe, The Woful Price which the Wicked Pay for the Feast of Vanity. By Thomas Adams, Preacher of God's word at Willing-ton, in Bedfordshii'e.

Luke xvi. 25.

August, de CivitateDci, lib.xxii., cap. 3.—Prima mors animam dolentem pellit de corpore ; secunda mors animam nolentem tenet in coi-pore. The soul by the first death is unwillingly driven from the body ; the soul by the second death is unwillingly held in the body.

London : Printed by Thomas Snodham, for John Budge, and are to be sold at the great south door of Paul's, and at Britain's Burse. 1614.

To the very Worthy Gentleman ]\Ir Francis Crawley, savw(j health. Sir, —There are four sorts of banquets, which I may thus distinguish : JfEtum, letiferum, helium, helluinum. The first is a joyful feast; such was the breakfast of the world in the law, or the dinner in the gospel, or (yet the future more fully) the Lamb's supper of glory. This is a deHcate feast, yet not more than the next is deadly, the black banquet, which is prepared for the wicked in hell, which consists of two dishes, saith the school, pa:na damnl and pana sensus; or, as the philosopher distinguisheth all misery into cojnam and inopiam; cojna tribulationis, inopia consolationis. Or after some, of three : amissio cceli, privatio terra, positio inferni; the missing of that they might have had, the privation of that they had, the position of that they have, and would not have, torment. Or, according to others, of four: merciless miser}', extremity, universality, eternity of anguish. Our Saviour abridgeth all into two, or rather one (for they are homogenea), weeping and gnashing of teeth. This is a bloody banquet, where (cross to the festival proverb, the more the merrier) the multitude of guests shall add to the horror of miseries ; so afflicting one another with their echoing and reciprocal groans, that it shall be no ease, socios habuisse dolons. This is a lamentable, but the third is a laudable feast. It is that the Christian

S2XV1 MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

maketh, either to man (wliich is a feast of charity) or to God (which is a feast of grace). Whereimto God hath promised to be a guest, and to sup with him. The last is a bestial banquet, wherein either man is the sym-posiast, and the devil the discumbent; or Satan the feast-maker, and man the guest. Sin is the food in both. The diet is not varied, but the host and Satan feast the wicked, whiles they feed on his temptations to surfeit. The wicked feast Satan, whiles their accustomed sins nourish his power in their hearts. So St Hierome, Dtjemonum cibus ehrietas, luxuria, fornicatio et universa ritia; Our iniquities are the very diet and dainties of the devils. With this last only have I meddled, endeavouring to declare it, to dissuade it, according to the dichotomized carriage of all om* sermons by explication, by apphcation. Sin is the white (or rather the black mark) my arrow flies at. I trust he that gave aim to my tongue, will also direct, level, and keep my pen from swerving. But since reproofs are as goads, and beasts wiU kick when they are touched to the quick, and he that speaks in thunder shall be answered with Ughtning; by which consequence I may suspect storms, that have menaced storms; therefore behold, it runs to you for shelter ; not to instruct your knowledge, who can give so exquisite counsel to others in the law, to yourself in the gospel, being quahfied, as that perfect rhetorician should be, vir bonus clicendi peritus; but that through your name I might offer (and add) this poor mite into the treasury of the church, ascribing the patronage to yourself, the use to the world, the success to God. Accept this poor testimony of my gratitude, who have avowed myself, Your worship's, ia all faithful service,

Thomas Adams.

The Sinner's Passing Bell; or, A Compiaint from Heaven for Man's Sins. PubUshed by Thomas Adams, Preacher of God's word at Willing-ton, in Bedfordshire.

1 Cor. xi. 30.

August. Epist. 188.—Ipse sibi denegat curam, qui medico non pubhcat causam. He hath no care of his own cure that declareth not to the physician his grief.

London : Printed by Thomas Snodham, for John Budge, and are to be sold at the great south door of Paul's, and at Britain's Burse. 1614.

To the truly Noble Knight, Sir Anthony Saint John, saving health. Right Worshipful, —The sickness of this world is grovra so lethargical, that his recovery is almost despaired; and therefore his physicians, finding, by infalUble sjTnptoms, that his consumption is not curable, leave him to the malignancy of his disease. For the eye of his faith is bhnd, the ear of his attention deaf, the foot of his obedience lame, the hand of his charity numbed, and shut up with a griping covetousness. All his vital parts, •whereby he should live to goodness, are in a swoon; he lies bed-rid in his security, and hath little less than given up the (Holy) Ghost. It cannot be denied, but that he lies at the mercy of God. It is, therefore, too late to toll his passing bell, that hath no breath of obedience left m him. I might rather ring his knell. Yet because there are many in this world, many sick of the general disease of sin, whose recovery is not hopeless, though their present state be hapless, and some that, if they knew but themselves sick, would resort to the pool of Bethesda, the water of life, to be cured, I have.

therefore, presumed to take them apart, and tell them impartially their own illness. O that to perform the cure were no more difficult than to describe the malady, or prescribe the remedy. I have endeavoured the latter; the other to God, who can both kill and give life, who is yet pleased, by his word, to work our recoveiy, and to make me one (unworthy) instrument to administer his physic. Now, as the most accurate physicians, ancient or modem, though they delivered precepts in their faculty worthy of the world's acceptance and use, yet they set them forth under some noble patronage ; so I have presumed, under the countenance of your protection, to publish this (physical, or rather) metaphysical treatise ; for, as the sickness is spiritual, so the cure must be supernatural. Assuring myself, that if you shall use any observation here, and give it your good word of prohatum est, many others will be induced the more readily to embrace. My intent is to do good ; and if I had any better receipt, I would not, like some physicians, I know not whether more envious or covetous, with an excellent medicine, let it live and die with myself. God conserve your (either) health, and give yon, with a sound body, a sounder faith, whereby you may live in the life of grace here, of glory hereafter.

Your worship's humbly devoted

Thomas Adams.

The Sinner's Passtng Bell ; or. Physic from Heaven. The Second Sermon. Pubhshed by Thomas Adams, Preacher of God's word at Willing-ton, in Bedfordshire.

Hosea xiii. 9.

August. Serm. de Temp., 145.—Quid de te tu ipse tam male meruisti, ut inter bona tua nolis ahquod esse malum, nisi teipsum ? How didst thou, oh wicked man, deserve so ill of thyself, that among all thy goods, thou wouldst have nothing bad but thyself ?

London : Printed by Thomas Snodham, for John Budge, and are to be sold at the great south door of Paul's, and at Britain's Burse. 1G14.

To the venj Worthy Gentleman Mr John Alletne, saving health. Sir, —I have endeavoured, in this short sermon, to prescribe to these sick times some spiritual physic. The gi'ound I have received from the direction of God; the method I submit to the correction of man. In this I might err ; in the other I could not. The main and material objects I have levelled at are : 1. To beget in us a sense of the sins we have done, of the miseries whereby we are undone. 2. To rebuke our forgetfolness oi God's long since ordained remedy, the true intrinsic balm of his gospel; in the saving use whereof we are (like some countries, blessed with the medicinal benefits of nature, yet), through nescience or negligence, defective to ourselves in the application. Inward diseases are as frequent as outward; those by disquiet of mind, as these by disdiet of body. It was a rare age that had no spiritual plague ranging and raging in it. Ours hath manifold and manifest, vile and visible; the world gi-owing at once old and decayed in nature, lusty and active in producing sins. Wickedness is an aged harlot, yet as pregnant and teeming as ever. It cannot be denied, but that otrr iniquities are so palpable, that it is as easy to prove them, as to reprove them. Were our bodies but half so diseased (and yet this year hath not favoured them) as our souls ai-e, a straugo and unheard of mortality would

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

ensue. Man is naturally very indulgent to himself, but misplaceth his bounty. He gives the body so much liberty, that it becomes licentious; but his soul is so prisoned up in the bonds of corrupt affections, that she cries of him, as that troubled princess of her strict keeper. From such a jailer, good Lord, deliver me. The flesh is made a gentleman, the mind a beggar. Sick we are, yet consult not the oracles of heaven for our welfare, nor solicit the help of our great physician Christ. He is our Saviour, and bare our sicknesses, saith the prophet; yea, took on him our infirmities. Infinnitates speciei, non individui: infirmities common to the nature of mankind, not particularly incident to every singular person. Those he took on himself, that he might know the better to succom* us in our weakness. As the queen sung of herself in the poet, Non ignara mall miseris succurrere disco. It is most perfectly true of om- Jesus, that he learned by his own sorrow to pity ours, though all his sufferance was for our sakes. But how should he help us, if we make not our moan to him ? How should we be restored, when God's saving physic is unsought, unbought, unapplied ? To convince our neglect, and persuade our better use of the gospel, tends this weak labour. To your protection it wilhngly flies, and would rest itself under your shadow. The God of peace give you the peace of God, which passeth all human understanding, and afford you many joys in this life to the end, and in the next his joy without end !

Yours in the services of love,

Tho. Adams.

The White Devil ; or, The Hypoceite Uncased. To this Foui-th Impression are newly added—1. The Two Sons ; or The Dissolute conferred with the Hypocrite : 2. The Leaven : or, A Medicine for them both. By Thomas Adams.

London: Printed by Thomas Dawson, for William Arondell, and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Angel. 1615.

To the Very Worthy and Nohly-Dlsjjosed Gentleman Sir Thomas Cheeke, Knight. Eight Worshipful, —This sermon bears so strange a title in the forehead, that I durst not (a while) study for a patronage to it, but intended to send it to the broad world, to shift for itself, as fearing it would not be owned; for it taxeth many vices, specially the black evil, secret thie\'ing, and the white devil, the hypocrite, whence it taketh the denomination. Now, what ambitious courtier would grace such a stranger? What vicious greatness would entertain such a page ? what corrupted lawyer such a client ? what covetous gentleman such a tenant ? what usurious citizen such a chapman ? indeed, what guilty man such a book, as will tell him to his face, thou art the man? Yet because first, generally, the world would think I had brought forth a strange child, that I could get no godfather to it; and especially, because you (rare in these apostate times) are known free from the aspersions of these speckled stains, the world bestowing on you that worthy (not undeserved) character of virtue ; so that with a clear and unclouded brow (the argument of an innocent soul) you Taa,j read these hues, I have been bold, at once, to offer this to your patronage, and myseK to your service. To this, your affection to divine knowledge, good profection iji it, and much time spent towards the perfection of it (a disposition worthy

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS. XXXJX

your blood) have prompted mo with encouragement. It is not the first of this nature that I have published (perhaps the last), but if I had not judged it the best, I would not have been so ambitious as to present it to the view of so approved a judgment. Thus in affiance of your good acceptance, I humbly leave you to him, that never leaveth his. Your worship's, in my best of services,

Thomas Adams.

To my most esteemed and singular land Friend Th. A., good, content, and

true happiness.

I never knew bosom wherein I reposed better trust, with better success, I have caused a new edition (with a new addition) of an old sermon. The White Devil hath begot the Two Sons. I hope it shall speed never the worse for the progeny. With you, I am sure, it will pass ; and with all those that can understand charitably. I have lighted on some masts, under whose sails I have sent my works to the world. If the traffic hath proved profitable to others, I am rejoiced in my own loss. I have certainty to find now (though not, what I never expected giving, or respected given, yet) at the least good words, kind looks, and a loving acceptance, which I have not often found. My words are few; you know the latitude of my love, which ever was, is, and shall be,

Yours inseparably,

Thomas Adams.

To THE Reader.

Honest and understanding reader (if neither, hands off) I never saluted thy general name by a special epistle till now ; and now perhaps soon enough ; but if honesty be usher to thy understanding, and imderstanding tutor to thy honesty, as I cannot fear, so I need not doubt, or treat with thee for truce. Truce, of what ? of suspense, not of suspension; it belongs to our betters. Suspend thy censure, do not suspend me by thy censure. I do not call thee aside to ask, with what applause this sermon passeth, but (it is all I would have and hear) with what benefit. I had rather convert one soul, than have an hundredth praise me ; whereof, if I were (so besotted to be) ambitious, by this I could not hope it; for it pulls many tender and tendered sins out of their downy nests; and who strikes vice, and is not stricken with calumnies ? I must rather think it hath passed from one press to another, to a worse, hazarding itself to be pressed to death with censures, which yet (though I lowly hope better) I cannot fear, since it speaks no more, nor other than justifiable truth. What hath been objected already, I must briefly answer. It is excepted that I am too merry m describing some vice. Indeed, such is their ridiculous nature, that their best conviction is derision ; yet I abominate any pleasantness here but Christian, and would provoke no smile but of disdain, wherein the gra^-ity of matter shall free my form of words from lightness. Others say, I am otherwhere too satirically bitter. It is partly confessed ; I am bitter enough to the sins, and therein (I think) better to the sinners, more charitable to the persons. Some wish I would have spared the church-thieves, because it is not yet generally granted that impropriations of t}'thes are appropriations of wrongs, but if there be a compotent maintenance to the minister, and not to him neither, except of worthy gifts (provided that they judge of his gifts and

competency), it is enough ; well, if any such be grieved, let him allow his minister a sufficiency, under which he cannot live, without want to his family or disgrace to his profession (at least, so taken) and hereof certified, I will take counsel to draw the books, and put his name out of the catalogue of thieves. But it would be strange if any of these Zibas should yield to Mephibosheth a division of his own lands or goods; when they do, I will say, David is come again to his kingdom, or rather the Son of David is come to judgment. Others would have enclosers put out, because (commonly) great men, but therefore the greater their sins, and deserving the greater taxation. Nay, some would persuade usury to step in, to traverse his indictment, and prove himself no thief, by the verdict of the country; because stib judice Us est, it is not yet decided that usury is a sin. It is sub judice indeed, but the Judge hath already interposed his interlocutory, and will one day give his definitive sentence, that usury shall never dwell in his holy mountain. Others blunder in their verdict, that I have too violently baited the bag at the stake of reproach, and all because I want it. I will not return their censure, that they are hence known to have it that speak against me, for speaking against it; who yet, if they would light the candle of their speech at the fire of their understandings, would easily see and say, that it is not fulness of the bag, but the foulness of the bag-bearer, that I reprove. I could allow your purses fuller of wealthiness, so your minds were emptier of wickedness ; but the bag's effects, in our affects, usually load us, either with parsimony or prodigality, the Ughtest of which burdens, saith Saint Bernard, is able to sink a ship. Others affirm, that I have made the gate of heaven too narrow, and they hope to find it wider; God and the Scriptures are more merciful. True it is, that heaven-gate is in itself wide enough, and the narrowness is in respect of the enterer; and though thy sins cannot make that too little to receive thee, yet they make thee too gross and unfit to get into that: thus the straitness ariseth from the deficiency (not of their glory, but) of our grace. Lastly, some have the title sticking in their stomachs ; as if Christ himself had not called Judas a devil, and likened an hypocrite to a whited sepulchre ; as if Luther did not give Judas this very attribute, and other fathers of the church, from whom Luther derives it. Good Christian reader, leave cavils against it, and fall to caveats in it. Read it through ; if there be nothing in it to better thee, either the fault is in my hand, or in thy heart. Howsoever, give God the praise, let none of his glory cleave to us earthen instruments. If thou likest it, then (quo animo legis, ohservas, quo ohservas, servo) with the same affection thou readest it, remember it, and with the same thou rememberest, practise it. In hope of this, and prayer for this, I commend this book to thy conscience, and thy conscience to God.—Willington, March 27, 1614. Thine if thou be Christ's,

T. A.

Sir Thomas Cheke, to whom the volume is dedicated, was grandson of Sir John Cheke, the well-known Greek professor at Cambridge, and one of the revivers of learning in England. Sir Thomas was knighted by James I. He resided near Romford, in Essex, and died in 1659. The address to the reader is one of the raciest of Adams's writings, affording a sample of his wit, severity, and tenderness, all combined.

MEMOni OF THOMAS ADAMS. xll

This volume and the corresponding one, ' The Black Devil,' have been quoted from John Vicars,* down to our own times.

The Sermons named on the title-page of the White Devil have each of them a separate title-page, but no separate Dedication.

The Two Sons ; or The Dissolute conferred with the Hypocrite.

Augustin. in Luc. x^iii. 14.—Videte fratres: magis Deo placuit humili-tas in malis, quam superbia in bonis factis.

London : Printed by Thomas Dawson, for William Arondell, and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Angel. 1615.

The title-page of the other contains only these words—' The Leaven ; or, A Direction to Heaven.' Neither place, date, printer, nor publisher.

The Black Devil [Saint] ; or, The Apostate : Together with the Wolf Worrying the Lambs, and the Spiritual Navigator bound for the Holy Land: In Three Sermons. By Thomas Adams.

Jer. xiii. 23.

Bern., Sent.—Quid prosunt lecta et intellecta, nisi teipsum legas et in-telligas ?

London : Printed by WiUiam Jaggard. 1615.

To the Honourable Gentleman, Sir Charles Morrison, Knirjht, Baronet. Worthy Sir, —I have been bold, upon better acquaintance with your yu-tues than with youi'self, to send a short treatise to your view. I know whose judgment it must pass, yet am fearless, not in any arrogant stupidity of my own weakness, but in a confident presumption of your goodness ; a weighty habit, not parallel, but transcendent, to youi- greatness. Perhaps natui-e hath taught you that to be generous is to be virtuous; but I am sure wisdom hath perfected natural disposition in you, and given you not only an excellent theorical discourse, but an actual reducing of those things into practice, which are better than you shall find here. Though you have happier contemplations of your own, yet accept these as the slender presents of a poor man given to the rich. Weak I confess it; for how should the child be strong begot in the father's weakness ? It hath the more need of your protection, and knows the better to express itself and the author, ever ready, at your honourable command, to do you seiwice.

Tho. Adams.

To the Reader.

Reader, this book stands at the mercy of thy capacity for thy censure. Perhaps thou wilt judge it done for opposition's sake; the Black Devil to the white; perhaps for imitation, perhaps for afibctation. Thou mayest form causes enough in thy imagination to produce it, yet miss the right. It was to shew thyself and all other perusers the blackness of sin, and, among the

* ' One very wittily and most worthily distingiiishea these loose livers into Black Devils and White Devils; and our blessed Saviour himself confirms the truth of this distinction.'—Cofe/nans St. Conclave Visited. [By J. \ icars, 1647.]

rest, of apostasy. Would you not behold impiety in the true colours ? You may forbear. If you would, look here and detest it. K you will take out a good lesson, and hate to do it, neither you nor I shall have cause to repent our labours. Once we must give account what we have heard, and seen, and done, when the pleasures of sin, like old surfeits, shall give a bitter reluctancy in the stomach of the conscience, and we are going to God's cold earth. Learn we now to prevent the doing of that which we shall one day be sorry to have done. There is no man hving but shall repent of his wickedness, either on earth or in hell. Read, and be instructed. If you find just faults here, I submit my weakness to your censure. In omnibus meis scriptis non modo pium lectoreni sed liherum correctionem desi-dero. But to those censurers, qui vet non intelligendo rej^rehendunt, vel re-prehendendo non intelligunt, I wish either a more sound understanding or more sober affection.

Criminor, ampJector: tihi sunt communia, lector. But as he that com-mendeth himself is not approved, but whom the Lord commendeth, so if the Lord approve I pass not for man's judgment. If you snib me for writing so frequently, and not confining myself to the pulpit, I answer (besides that I will not neglect this to do that).

Quo liceat libris, non licet ire mihi. My books may be admitted where I cannot come. If you say there are books too many, I answer, Restrain them to this quality; and abundans caidela non nocet. Farewell. Be satisfied, be blessed.

Tho. Adams.

WlNGRAVE, July 7.

LUCANTHROPY; OR, ThE WoLF "WORRYING THE LaMBS. By ThOMAS AdAMS.

Mat. vii. 15.

Tertull.^ —Quasnam sunt istae pelles ovium, nisi nominis Christiani extrinsecus superficies ? Hie dolus est magnus : Lupus est qui creditur agmis.

London : Printed by William Jaggard. 1615.

To the truly worthy Gentleman, M. Henry Fortescue, Esquire, a favourer of virtue and good learning. Sir, —I have put up the wolf, though not hunted him, as judging myself too weak for that sporit-earnest. It is no desertless office to discover that subtle and insatiate beast; to pull the sheep-skin of hypocrisy over his ears; and to expose his forming malice and sanguinous cruelty to men's censure and detestation. Let those hands strike him that have darts of authority put into their quivers. Our land is no forest, literally or metaphorically understood; but whether for church or commonwealth, profession or soil, an orchard of God's own planting: fruitful in goods and good works. Wolves we have none, but some mystical ones; whose ferocity is yet hidden under the habits and cases of those lambs they have devoured. These I have set in view, or at least meant my best to do it. I have seldom pretended that commonpoise that (by their own report) sets so many mad pens like wheels a running, importunacy of friends. I have willingly published what I had hope would do good published. Only this I feared to keep from the press, lest it should steal thither another way. Being there, I could not with better confidence fasten upon a known patron

MKMOIE OF THOMAS ADASIS.

xliii

than yourself, who can hoth understand it and will read it; not only the epistle, but the whole book. Though that fashion with many patrons, of pei-usiug more than their own titles, bo now as a suit of the old make, I know you spend some hours of all days in such good exercises; abandoning those idle and excessive customs wherein too many will please themselves, and none else.

It is an untin-ifty spending of time, and a soriy success will conclude it, when we are curious in plotting a method for our inferior delights, and leave our salvation unwrought up. We strive to settle our lands, to secure our monies, to confinn our estates ; but to conform our lives, or to make sure our election, is vilipended. And yet when all is done, brains have plotted, means have seconded, bonds and laws have established, nothing can be made sure, but only our salvation. But go you forward to adorn your eternal mind, and to plant your soul full of those flowers which give already a pleasant odour on earth, and shall one day be stuck like glories in heaven. So shall your mcmoiy be sweet in the mouths and hearts of future generations ; whiles the vicious, even alive, do not escape the satyr. Thus with true thankful love I behight you in my prayers, a happy progress in grace, till you come to your standing-house in glory. Your worship's in very best seiTices,

Tho. Adams.

The Spibitual Navigator bound for the Holy Land. Preached at St Giles Without, Cripplegate, on Trinity Sunday last. 1615. By Thomas Adams.

Rev. XV. 2, 3.

London : Printed by WiUiam Jaggard. 1G15.

To the tndi/ Religious M. Crashaw, M. Milward, M. Davies, M. Heling, icith other uorthy Citizens, my very good Friends. Gentlemen, —Because you have just occasion in your callings to deal often with merchandise, I have been bold to call you a little from your temporal to a spiritual traffic, and have sent you a Christian Na\'igator, bound for the Holy Land, who, without question, will give you some relations of his travels, worthy two hours' perusing. You shall find a whole sea sailed through in a short time, and that a large sea, not a foot less than the world. You will say, the description lies in a little volume : why, you have seen the whole world narrowed up into a small map. They that have been said, after many years, at last to compass it, have not described all coasts and corners of it. Even theii* silence hath given succeeding generations hope to find out new lands ; and you know they have found them. You cannot expect more of two hoiirs' discoveiy, than of seven years'. I leave many things to be descried by others, yet dare promise this, that I have given you some necessary directions for your happiest voyage. Over this glassy sea you must sail, you are now sailing. Truth be your chart, and the Holy Ghost your pilot. Yom* course being well directed, you cannot possibly make a happier joiimey. The haven is before your eyes, where your Sa^•iour sits with the hand of mercy wafting you to him. You cannot be sea-sick, but he will comfort and restore you. If the tempest comes, call on him, with Peter, Lord, save us! and he will rebuke the winds and the seas ; they shall not hurt you. Storm and tempest, winds and waters

obey his voice. What rocks, gulfs, swallows, and the danger (worse than that is called the terror of the exchange, the pirate : one plague which the devil hath added to the sea, more than nature gave it) of that great leviathan Satan, and other perils that may endanger you, are marked out! Decline them so weU as you may, and consider what providence guides your course ; this sea is before God's throne. Keep you the Cape of Good Hope in your eye ; and whatever becomes of this weak vessel your body, make sure to save the passenger, your soul, in the day of the Lord Jesus. What is here directed you shall be faithfully prayed for, by him that un-feignedly desires your salvation, Tho, Adams.

The last of these sermons was preached in the parish church, Cripplegate. Milton's father now attended there, and Milton himself may have heard the sermon, then a fair-haired, angel-faced boy of seven. Both father and son lie buried in the church.

England's Sickness comparatively confereed with Israel's : Divided into Two Sermons. By Thomas Adams.

Bern.—Possessio bona, mens sana in corpore sano. Non est in medico (semper), relevetur ut seger.

London : Imprinted by E. G., for John Budge and Ealph Mab. 1615.

To the Rirfht WorsJiipfid Sir John Claypoole, Knight, saving health. Worthy Sir, —I have venturously trafficked with my poor talent in pubUc, whiles I behold richer graces buried in silence: judging it better to husband a Uttle to the common good, than to hoard much wealth in a sullen niggardise. I censure none ; if all were writers, who should be readers ? if no idle pamphlets would present themselves to the general eye, and be entertained for defect of more sober matter. If the grain be good, it doth better in the market than in the gamer. All I can say for myself is, I desire to do good; whereof if I fail, yet my endeavours leave not my conscience without some joyful content. To your patronage this flies, to whom the author is greatly bounden, and shall yet be indebted further for your acceptance. Your love to general learning, singular encouragement to students (opposed to the common disheartenings which poverty, contempt, ignorance assaults us with); your actual beneficence to many, especially to Katharine Hall in Cambridge, worthy of deathless memory; lastly, your real kindness to myself, have prompted me to seal this book with the signet of your name, and send it to the world, which in humble submission I commend to your kind acceptation, and yourself with it, to the blessing of our gracious God. Your Worship's in all duty devoted,

Thomas Adams.

Mystical Bedlam ; or. The World of Madmen. By Thomas Adams.

2 Tim. iii. 9.

AuGUSTiN. de Trinit. Lib. 4, cap. 6.—Contra rationem nemo sobrius.

London: Printed by George Purslowe, for Clement Knight, and are to be sold at his shop, in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Holy Lamb. 1615.

To the Bight Honourable Sir Thomas Egkrton, Knighl, Baron of FAlesmerCy Lord High Chancellor of England, one of His Majesty's Rigid lion. Privy Council, the true Pattern of virtue and Patron if good learning. Right Honourable, —It is a labour that hath neither recompcnco nor thanks, to tell them their madness that fain would think themselves sober. Having therefore presumed (not to trouble the peace, but) to disquiet the secuiity of our Israel, I dm'st not but aspu*e to some noble patronage, that might shield both myself and labours from the blows of all malevolent censurers. In which thought I was bold to centre myself in your honour; as the individual point of my refuge, wherein I have been taught the way by more woiihy precedents; your honourable name having stood as a communis terminus or sanctuary of protection to the labours and persons of many students. The imerring hand of God hath placed your lordship in the seat of justice and chair of honour- (especially if it be true what St Hiero-nymus says, that summaapud Deum nohiUtas, durum essevirtutibus), whereby you have power and opportunity to whet the edge of virtue with encom-age-ments, and to give vice the just retribution of deserved punishments. Happy influences have been derived from you, sitting as a star in the star-chamber : conscionable mitigations of the law's rigoui* in the Couii of Chancery. To punish where you see cause, is not more justice than mercy: justice against the offender, mercy to the commonwealth. Those punishments are no other than actual physic ministered to the inheritance, Uberty; body to the bettering of the conscience, and saving of the soul in the day of the Lord Jesus (1 Cor. v. 5, marg.). Behold, my pen hath but written after the original copy of your honour's actions: desiiiug rather to learn by yom* doings how to say, than to teach you by my sapng how to do. I have spoken (God knows with what success) to these mad times, and he that would bind the frantic, though he loves him, angers him. The detector of men's much-loved sins need a protector that is both good and great. I am sure my election is happy, if it shall please your honour to cast the eye of acceptance on my weak labours. A young plant may thrive if the sun shall warm it \^'ith his beams. That Sun of righteousness, that hath saving health under his wings, shine for ever on your lordship; who hath been so hberal a favourer to his church, and among the rest to his uuworthiest servant, and

Your honom-'s in aU duty and thankful observance bounden,

Tho. Adams.

Sir Thomas Egerton, Lord Ellesmere, was the patron of the parish of Wiugrave, where Adams seems now to be living.

The Sacrifice of Thankfulness : A Sermon preached at Paul's Cross, the 3d of December, being the first Adventual Sunday. Anno 1G15. By Thomas Adams.

Bern., in Cant., Serm. 35.—Gratiarum cessat decursus, ubi recursus non fuerit.

Whereimto are annexed, five other of his Sermons preached in London and elsewhere; never before printed. The Titles whereof follow in the next page.

London : Printed by Thomas Purfoot, for Clement Ivnight, and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Holy Lamb. 1616.

On the next page, the Titles of the Five Sermons are—1. Christ, his Star; or, the Wise Man's Oblation, Matt. ii. 11 ; 2. Politic Hunting, Gen. xxv. 27; 3. Plain Dealing ; or a Precedent of Honesty, Gen. xxv. 27 ; 4. The Three Divine Sisters, 1 Cor. xiii. 13; 5. The Taming of the Tongue, James iii. 8. Three of these have separate titles.

To the Right Worshipful Sir Henry Montague, Knight, the King^s Majesty's Servant for the Law, and Recorder of the Honourable City of London.

Worthy Sir, —Where there is a diversity of helps leading to one intention of good, the variety may well be tolerated. Who finds fault with a garden for the multitude of flowers? You shall perceive here different kinds, whereof (if some to some seem bitter) there is none unwholesome. It takes fire at the altar of God, and begins with the Christian's sacrifice, the flame whereof (by the operation of the blessed Spirit) may both enlighten the understanding and warm the afiections of good men, and in others consumingly waste the dross and rust of sin, which must either be purged by the fire of grace here, or sent to the everlasting fire to be burned. The wise man's oblation seconds it: what is formerly commanded in precept is here commended in practice. Politic hunters of the world are discovered, and plain dealing encouraged. One (almost forgotten) virtue, charity, is praised, and a busy vice is taxed. In all is intended lux scienticE, pax conscientia; ]nscati mind, adificatio sertitia.

Your noble endeavours are observed by all eyes to be distinguished into this method: from your virtues there is a resultance of shining light to information, from your ofiice to reformation of others. Go forward so still to manage your place in that honourable city; and let the fij'e of correction eat out the rust of corruption. You may punish even whiles you pity. The good magistrate, like a good chirurgion, doth with a shaking hand search ulcers, more earnestly desirin^f von invenire quod quarit, quam inve-nire quod p)imiat. The God of mercy and salvation wrap up your soul in the bundle of life, and (when the lust of the earth shall to the dust of the earth) fix you in the blessed orb of glory.

Your worshipful's in all faithful observance,

Tho. Adams.

Of the Five Discourses published along with the Sacrifice of Tha.nkfulness, ' Christ the Star' and ' Politic Hunting' have no separate title-page, and are transposed in the Museum copy; ' Politic Hunting' coming first, though ' Christ his Star' is first in the table of contents. The pagination vindicates the binder. The other three Sermons are paged separately, and have separate titles as follows:—

Plain Dealing ; or A Precedent of Honesty.

Ps. xxxvii. 37.

August, in Joh. Horn. ii.—Simplex eris, si te mundo non implicaveris, Bed explicaveris. Explicando enim te a mundo, simplex; implicando, duplex eris,

London : Printed by Thomas Purfoot, for Clement Knight, and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Holy Lamb. 1616.

The Three Divine Sisters. John xxxiv. 34.

MEMOIK OF THOMAS ADAMS. xlvH

August.—Domus Dei fundatur credendo, spcrando crigitur, diligendo perficitur.

London : Printed by Thomas Purfoot, for Clement Knight, and arc to be sold at bis shop in Paul's Churchyard, at tbo sign of tho Holy Lamb. 1616.

The Taming of the Tongue. Matt. xii. 37.

Bern.—Lingua, quae facile volat, facile violat.

London: Printed by Thomas Purfoot, for Clement Knight, and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Holy Lamb. 1616.

Diseases of the Soul, [The Soul's Sickness] : A Discoui-se Divine, Moral, and Physical. By Thomas Adams.

Sen.—Desinit esse remedio locus, ubi qua3 fuemnt vitia, mores sunt.

London: Printed by George Purslowe, for John Budge, and are to be sold at the great south door of Paul's, and at Britain's Burse. 1616.

To the Hohj, Judicious, and icorthihj Eminent in his Profession, Mr William Randolph, Doctor of Physic. Worthy Sir, —It will seem strange to those that better know my un-worthiness than j'our merits, that I should administer i)hysic to a physician. But my apology is just, convincing rather than of ignorance than myself of presumption. It is not a potion I send, but a prescript in paper, which tho foolish patient did eat up when he read in it written. Take this. Neither do I send it to direct you, but that you should rectify it. So the poor painter sent ApeUes a pictui'e, to mend it, not to commend it. That which tastes of philosophy in it is but so much of those axioms and rudiments, as I gathered in the university in a short time, and have had much opportunity to lose since. Somewhat is chimed out of experience, wherein I may say necessitas was in-genii largitor; as Phny writes of the raven, who labouring of thirst, and spying a vessel with some little water in it, but so deep as she could not reach, filled the vessel with stones, till the hea^'ier matter sinking downwards, raised up the lighter to her easy apprehension. My own ill health forced me to look into that poor cistern of knowledge, which I had ; and finding it almost diy,I essayed by some new contemplations, to raise it up to experience, which now, behold, nins over, and \vithout diminution to itself, is communicatively dispersed to others. Only do you use it, as I desire you should myself: if it be in health, conserve it; if foul, purge it. For my o^vn part, I am content that no happy meditation of mine should be ut Curia Martis Athenis ; or, like some precious mysteiy which a practitioner will get money by while he lives, but sutler none else to use when he is dead; for he resolves it shall die with him. It is more moral than physical, and yet the gi-eater part theological: wherein I have most satisfied my own conscience, in arguing at that punctual centre, and blessed scope, whither all endeavours should look—the straitening our warped afiections, and directing the soul to heaven. And in this passage (you must pardon me) I fear not to say, your memory at least, if not your understanding, may hereby be helped. My medicines are not very bitter, but nothing at all sweet to a sensual palate : learning from Salvian that Qua petulantium auribus placcnt, ayrotantium animis noii prumnt. For my soul, I prescribe to others that which I desire ever to take myself, such

saving recipes as God's Holy Writ hath directed me. For my body, though I would not have it lamed by my own neglect, that it might lean upon the staff of physic, having not so much health to spare as might allow some unthrifty expense of it on surfeits ; yet when it is sick, I desire no other physician than yomrself. Perhaps a great number of men are of my mind, and frequent are the knocks at your study-door; but I am sure that all those desires are not inflamed with that light of knowledge which I have of your sufiiciency, through much private conference. Rudeness or prolixity do ill in an epistle, and worse when both together; and may perhaps please a man's self, and none else. I have done when I have (yet once again) challenged your promised Judicial of imnes ; which, if you make public, you shall have the like addition to my singular thanks. Till a good gale of opportunity waft myself over to your Sudbury, I have sent you this messenger of that love and service, shall ever be ready to attend you; desiring that, as it hath found the way to you, you would give it your pass to the world ; and (if it grow poor with contempt), your legacy of approbation. Wingrave in Buck., May ult.

Your worship's in all just references of love,

Thos. Adams.

To THE Eeader.

The title of this book requires some apology. There is a book lately conceived in Scotland, and born in England, which both promiseth in the frontispiece, and demonstrates in the model, the method and matter here proposed. Whereof I cannot speak, having onl;; cursorily perused some page or two of it, but not of the worthiness. Because that hath the priority of the time, and transcendency in quantity of mine, I have reason to fear that this will be thought but the spawn of that, or an epitome, or at best, that it is begot out of imitation. Herein I must seriously propose, and engage my credit to the truth thereof, that this was committed to the stationer's hands, perused, and allowed by authority; yea, and with fall time to have been printed, and, perhaps, an impression sold, before that of Mr John Abernethy's came out. What dilemmas were in the bookseller's head, or what reasons for such slackness and reservation, are to me as mystical as his profession. Neither do I plead thus out of any affected singularity, as if I were too good to imitate so worthy a man ; but only to have punctually and plainly delivered the truth hereof, leaving it to thy censure, and us all to the grace of God. T. A.

The allusion in the epistle to the reader is to a work just then published by John Abernethy, minister at Jedburgh, and afterwards Bishop of Caithness. It is entitled, ' A Christian and Heavenly Treatise, containing Physic for the Soul.' An enlarged edition was pubhshed in 1622, and in the following year it was translated and published in Dutch. The volume is admirable in spirit, and may easily have excited the active mind of our author. The reader will note, however, the care with which Adams guards against the impression that he had taken his thoughts from Abernethy.

In the epistle to Dr Randolph, there is evidence that Adams was no stranger to bodily suffering. A similar allusion will be found in the atidress prefixed to the Happiness of the Church, (see p. H).

MEMOIR OF TUOMAS ADAMS. lllX

A Divine Herbal together with a Forest of Thorns. In Five Sermons :—1. Tho Garden of Graces ; 2. The Praise of Fertility; 8. The Contemplation of tho Herbs; 4. The Forest of Thorns ; 5. The End of Thorns. By Thomas Adams.

Isa. Iv. 11.

August, do benedict. Jaco. et Esau.—Simul pluitDominus super segetcs, et super spinas; sed segeti pluit ad horreum, spinis ad ignem : et tamen una est pluvia.

London: Printed by George Purslowe, for John Budge, and are to be sold at his shop, at the gi-eat south door of Paul's and at Britain's Burse. IGIG.

To the liifiht Honourable William, Earl of Pembroke, Ijord Chamberlain of his Majesty's Household, and one of his Majesty's most honourable Frirnj Council, and Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter, the most noble Embracer and Encoiirafjer of goodness. Right Honourable, —I am bold to present to your honour a short contemplation of those herbs (cut in rough pieces), which grow really and plentifully in youi* own garden, and give so good noui'ishment to yom* \'irtues, delightful taste to the church, and odoriferous savour to all; that, hke the vine in Jotham's pai'able, they cheer the heart of both God and man. Your honour, I know, cannot dislike that in sight, which you so preserve in sense, and (for a happy reward) doth and shall preserve you. You are zealously honoured of all those that know goodness, and have daily as many prayers as the earth saints. Into this number, I have (hopefully presuming) thrust myself, as loth to be hindmost in that acknowledgment, which is so nobly deserved, and so joyfully rendered of all tongues, dedicating to your honour some public devotions, that can never forget you in my private. I will not think of adding one herb to your store : I only desire to remember your honour what hand planted them, what dew waters them, what influence conserves, and enspheres a sweet provident air about them, and when gay weeds, that shoot up like Jonah's gourd in a night, shall Avither in an hour (for moriuntur quomodo oriuntur). Your herb of grace shall flourish and be praised, both ob eminentiam and permanentiam, and at last be transported into that heavenly paradise, whence it receives the original root and being. Your honour will excuse me for coupling to a divine herbal, a forest of thorns, by a true observation in both material and mystical gai'dens, though a poet records it:

Terra salutiferas herbas, eademque nocentes Nutrit, et urticae proxima saepe rosa est.

Your honour will love the hght better, because the dark night follows so near it. That your sun may never set, your noble garden never wither; that your honours may be still multiplied with our most royal and religious king on earth, and with the King of kings in heaven, is faithfully piayed for by

Your honour's humbly devoted

Tho. Adams.

The Soldiers's Honour : Wherein, by divers inferences and gradations it is evinced that tho profession is just, necessary, and honourable ; to be practised o^ some men, praised of all men. Together with a short

VOL. m. d

admonition concerning munition to this honoured city. Preached to the ■worthy Company of Gentlemen that exercise in the Artillery Garden ; and now, on their second request, published to further use. By Thomas Adams.

Exodus XV. 8.

London : Printed by Adam Islip and Edward Blount, and are to be sold in Paul's Chui-chyard, at the sign of the Black Bear. 1617.

This dedication will be found in vol. i., p. 31, as Adams himself printed it in the folio edition.

The Happiness of the Chukch ; or, A Description of those Spiritual Prerogatives wherewith Christ hath endowed her: Considered in some Contemplations upon part of the 12th Chapter to the Hebrews. Together with certain other Meditations and Discourses upon other portions of Holy Scripture, the titles whereof immediately precede the book, being the sum of divers Sermons preached in S. Gregory's, London. By Thomas Adams, Preacher there.

2 Cor. xii. 15.

London: Printed by G. P., for John Grismand, and are to be sold at his shop, near unto the httle north door of Saint Paul's, at the sign of the Gun. 1618.

To the Bight Honourable Sir Henry Montague, the Lord Chief-Justice of Enr/Iand, my very good Lord. Eight Honourable, —My allegiance to the Almighty King necessitates my endeavours to glorify his great name ; my profession hath imposed on me all ministerial services ; my filial duty to our blessed mother the church, hath taught me to help forward her cause, both with tongue and pen ; my thankfulness to your lordship ties me to seek your honom-able authorising of all these labours. They run to you first, as if they waited your manumission of them to the world. If books be our children, and the masculine issue of our brains, then it is fit that your lordship, who have the patronage of the father, should also vouchsafe a blessing to the children. Nor is this all: there is yet a weightier reason why they should refuge themselves under your lordship's protection. The world is quickly ofiended, if it be told of the offences. Men study courses, and practise them; and if the clergy find fault, yea, if we do not justify and make good what they magnify, and make common, they will be angry. It is the most thankless service to teU men of their misdeeds. Now, a business so distasteful requires a worthy patron; and whose patronage should I desire but your lordship's, whose I am, and to whom I owe all duty and sendee ? whose but your lordship's, who are in place to reform vice, and to encourage goodness ? to make that practical and exemplaiy, which is here only theorical and preceptory. God hath entrusted to your hands his sword of justice ; draw it in his defence against the enemies of his grace and gospel. You sit at the common stem, and, therefore, are not so much your own as your country's. Help us with your hands ; we will help you with our prayers. The Lord of majesty and mercy sanctify your heart, rectify your hand, justify your soul, and, lastly, crown your head with eternal glory !

Your lordship's observant chaplain, Tho. Adams.

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS. K

The volume is dedicated thus:—'To the Worthy Citizens of Saint Gregory's Parish, sincere Lovers of the Gospel, present Happiness and everlasting Peace.' Then follows an address the same as is prefixed to the folio edition of his works, see vol. i., xvii. The following sentences, however, are inserted before ' I very well know,' and the Avhole is signed, ' Your unworthy preacher, Thomas Adams' :—

It is not unlinown to you, that an infirmity did put me to silence many weeks; whilst my tongue was so suspended from preaching, my hand took opportunity of writing. To vindicate my Ufe from the least suspicion of idleness, or any such aspersions of uncharitable tongues, I have set forth this real witness, which shall give just confutation to such slanders. If it be now condemned, I am sure it is only for doing well.

This volume, ' The Happiness of the Church,' is a 4to of the ordinary size of that period. It is divided into two parts. The first, exclusive of title, dedication, epistle, and contents, extends to 443 pages. The second, which is nowhere called part second, and which has no separate title-page nor dedication, extends to 375 pages. The contents prefixed to first part are the contents of both parts. The following are the discourses included in the volume :—

Paut I.—The Happiness of the Church, Heb. xii. 22; The Rage of Oppression—The Victory of Patience, Ps. Ixvi. 12; God's House, Ps. Ixvi. I'd; Man's Seed Time and Harvest, Gal. vi. 7 ; Heaven Gate, Rev. xxii. 14; The Spiritual Eye Salve, Eph. i. 18 ; The Cosmopolite, Luke xii. 20; The Bad Leaven, Gal. v. 9 ; Faith's Encouragement, Luke x\ii. 19.

Pakt U. —The Saint's Meeting, Eph. iv. 13; Presumption Running mto Despair, Rev. vi. 10; Majesty in Misery, Mat. xxvii. 51 ; The Fool and his Sport, Prov. xiv. 9; The Fu-e of Contention, Luke xii. 49 ; The Christian's Walk—Love's Copy—A Crucifix, Eph. v. 2; The Good Pohtician dhectcd, Mat. x. 10; The Way Home, Mat. u. 12; Semper Idem, Heb. xiii. 8; God's Bounty, Prov. hi. 10; The Lost One Found, Luke xix. 10; A Generation of Serpents, Ps. Iviii. 4; Heaven made Sure, Ps. xxxv. 3; The Soul's Refuge, 1 Pet. iv. 19.

There is now an unwonted interval between the last-named of Adams's Avritings and the following. Whether sickness laid him aside, or whether he now began to prepare those Meditations on the Creed wliich King James was soon to direct all clergymen to indulge in on Sunday afternoons, is not known. The fact is undoubted.

EiRENOPOLis : The City of Peace. By Thomas Adams. Bvo. London, 1622.

Dedication, see Vol. ii., p. 310.

The Baeeen Tree. A Sermon preacted at St Paul's Cross, October 26. 1623. By Thomas Adams.

London : Printed by Aug. Matbewes, for Jobn Grismand, and are to be sold at his shop, in Paul's Alley, at the sign of the Gun. 1623.

To the Reverend and learned Dr Donne, Dean of St Paul's, together with the Prebend Residentiaries of the same Church, my vei-y good patrons. Right Worshipful, —Not out of any opinion of tbis sermon's wortb, to wbicb I dare not invite your judicious eyes ; nor any ambition to merit of my patrons, wbom I read styled petty creators ; but in bumble acknowledgment of yom- favours, I present tbis small rent of tbankfulness, the poor fruit of tbat tree wbicb grows on your own ground, and batb not from tbe world any otber sustenance. Vouchsafe, I beseecb you, your patronage to tbe cbild, wbo bave made tbe father of it Your worship's devoted homager,

Tho. Adams.

To THE Reader.

I neither affect those rheumatic pens that are still dropping upon tbe press, nor those phlegmatic spirits tbat will scarce be conjm'ed into tbe orb of employment. But if modest forwardness be a fault, I cannot excuse myself. It pleased God Almighty to make a fearful comment on this his own text, the very same day it was preached by his unworthiest servant. The argument was but audible in the morning, before night it was visible. His holy pen had long since written it with ink, now bis band of justice expounded in tbe characters of blood. There, was only a conditional menace : so it shall be. Here a terrible remonstrance : so it is. Sure ! be did not mean it for a nine days' wonder. Their sudden departure out of the world, must not so suddenly depart b-om the memory of tho world. Woe to that soul that shall take so slight a notice of so extraordinary a judgment. We do not say, They perished ; charity forbid it. But this we say, It is a sign of God's favour, when he gives a man law. We pass no sentence upon them, yet let us take warning by them. Tbe remarkableness would not be neglected, for the time, tbe place, the persons, tbe number, tbe manner. Yet stiU we conclude not, this was for the transgression of the dead; but this we are sure of, it is meant for the admonition of the living. Such is our blessed Saviour's conclusion upon a parallel instance : Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. There is no place safe enough for offenders; but when tbe Lord is once up in arms, happy man that can make bis own peace! Otherwise, in vain we hope to run from the plague while we carry the sin along with us. Yet will not our wilful and bewitched recusants, from these legible characters, spell God's plain meaning. No impression can be made in those hearts, that are ordained to perish. For their malicious, causeless, and unchristian censures of us, God forgive them ; our requital be only pity and prayers for them. Howsoever they give out (and I will not here examine) that their piety is more than ours : impudence itself cannot deny, but our charity is greater than theirs. Now the holy fear of God keep us in the ways of faith and obedience, that tbe preparation of death may never prevent our preparation to die. And yet still, after our best endeavoui-, from sudden death, good Lord, debver us all. Amen. T. A.

MEMOm OF THOMAS ADAMS. llii

This sermon was preached on October 26. 1623, the morning of what is known as * The fatal Vespers at Blackfriars.' Out of three hundred persons present, ninety-five were killed, and many more seriously injured. Particulars may be seen in many histories of that age (see Fuller's Church Hist, bk. x., cent, xvii., and Court of James I., vol. ii, pp. 428-433). The charity with which Adams speaks of this awful visitation (see Works, voL ii., p. 185) is noteworthy.

The Temple : A Sermon preached at Paul's Cross, the 5th of August 1624. By Thomas Adams.

London: Printed by A. Mathewes, for John Gi'ismand, and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Alley, at the sign of the Gun. 162-i.

To the Eight Honourable Sir Henry Carey, Lord Housdon,

Viscount Eochford.

My Lord, —Among the many absurdities which give us just cause to abhor the religion of the present Roman Chui'ch, this seemeth to me none of the least, that they have filled all the temples under the command of their politic hierarchy with idols, and changed the glory of the invisible God into the worship of visible images. They invocate the saints by them, yea, they dare not serve the Lord without them. As if God had repealed his unchangeable law ; and instead of condemning all worship by an image, would now receive no worship without an image. I have observed this one, among the other famous marks of that synagogue, that they strive to condemn that which God hath justified, and to justify what he hath condemned. For the former, he hath precisely directed our justification only by faith in the merits of Christ; this they vehemently dispute against. For the other, he hath (not without mention of his jealousy) forbidden all worship that hath the least tang of idolatry ; this they eagerly maintain. What large volumes have they written against the Second Commandment! as if they were not content to expunge it out of their catechisms, unless they did also dogmatise, contradict it to the whole world. They first set the people upon a plain rebeUion, and then make show to fetch them ofl' .again with a neat distinction. Thus do they pump their \rits to legitimate that by a distinction which God hath pronounced a bastard by his definite sentence ; as if the papal decrees were that law whereby the world should be judged at the last day. But who will regard a house of magnificent structure, of honourable and ancient memory, when the plague hath infected it, or thieves possess it ? and who, in their right senses, will join themselves to that temple, which after pretence of long standing, stately building, and of many such prerogatives and royalties, is found to be besmeared with superstitions, and profaned with innumerable idols ? \\Tiy should we dehght to dwell there, where God hath refused to dwell with us.

I pubhsh this argument as no new thing to your lordship, but wherein your well-experienced knowledge is able to inform me. Only I have been bold, through your thrice honoured name, to transmit this small discourse to the world ; emboldened by the long proof I have had of your constant love-to the truth, and the gracious piety of your most noble mother, tho

best encouragement of my poor labours on earth. The best blessings of God be still multiplied upon her, yourself, your religious lady, and your honourable family, which is continually implored by

Your lordship's humble servant,

Thomas Adams.

The Holy Choice. A Sermon preached at the Chapel of Guildhall, at the solemnities of the election of the Lord Mayor of London. Acts i. 24. By Thomas Adams. London. 1625.

A Sermon at the Triennial Visitation of the R. R. Father in God, the Lord Bishop of London, in Christ Church. Acts xv. 36. By Thomas Adams. London. 1625.

The Bishop of London, at this time, was Dr Moiintaigne. He had succeeded Dr King in 1621, and was translated to Durham in 1627. His successors were Laud in 1628, and Dr Juxon in 1633. It is worth marking under whose episcopate Adams spent the latter years of his life.

Meditations upon some parts of the Creed. 1629. (Vol. iii. page 85.)

Appended to the folio edition of the works, and probably published then for the first time. These ' Meditations' have all the vigour, and even more than the usual learning, of Adams, and they will well repay perusal.

As the sheets of the 'Meditations' and of Ward's Sermons were passing through the press, the Editor was struck with the sameness of thought, and even of expression, in several instances. The reader may compare for himself, and certainly the coincidence cannot be accidental. It is possible that Ward and Adams were personal friends, and compared thoughts, each contributing hia share; though tbeir political and ecclesiastical tendencies were widely different. The more probable solution is, that the one must have read or heard the other. Ward's book was first published in 1622, and bears on the last page the name of GrisTnand, who was one of Adams's publishers. So far as is known, the Meditations were not published till seven years later, though probably written some time before their pubKcation, Adams, therefore, seems the copyist. Perhaps he read the small volume of Ward as it was published, and when he was preaching his own Meditations. Without much intentional wrong, he may have adopted illustrations which struck him as suited for the day, and then have put them in print unacknowledged, having meanwhile forgotten their origin. His

MEMOIR OF THOMAS ADAMS.

Iv

general richness of thought, and tlie extensive writing he had now in liand—for his foho Commentary on Peter must have been begun some time before—make this explanation probable. It may be added that he has in a variety of instances, through what must have been a similar oversight, repeated himself, inserting in his Commentary, for example, what had already been published in his Sermons.*

A Commentary or Exposition upon the Divine Second Epistle General written by the blessed Apostle St Peter. By Thomas Adams. London : Printed by Ri. Badger, for Jacob Bloom. 1633.

To the Truly Noble and Worthily Honoured Sir Henry IVIarten, Knight,

Judye of His Majesty's High Court of the Admiralty, and Dean of the

Arches' Court of Canterbury.

Noble Sir, —The merchant that hath once put to sea and made a prosperous voyage, is hardly withheld from a second adventure. It liatli been my forwardness, not without the instinct of om* heavenly Pilot, the most blessed Sphit of God, to make one adventure before, for he that publisheth his meditations may be well called an adventurer. God knows what return hath been made to his ovm glory; if but httle (and I can hope no less, though I have ever prayed for more), yet that hath been to me no httle comfort. I am now put forth again, upon the same voyage, in hope of better success. For my commission I sue to you, who have no small power both in the deciding of civil diflerences, and in the disposing of naval affairs, and matters of such commerce, bemg known well worthy of that authority in both these ecclesiastical and civil courts of judicature, that you would be pleased to bless my spiritual traffic with your auspicious approbation. I dare not commend my owti merchandise ; yet if I had not conceived somewhat better of it than of my foimer, I durst not have been so ambitious as to present it unto you, of whose clear understanding, deep judgment, and sincere integrity, all good men among us have so full and confessed an experience. Yet besides your own candid disposition, and many real encouragements to me your poor servant, this may a little qualify my boldness, and vindicate me from an over-daring presumption ; that my aim is your pati"onage, not your instruction—not to inform your wisdom, which were to hold a taper to the sun—but to gain your acceptation and fair allowance, that, under your honoui-ed name, it may find the more free entertainment wheresoever it arrives, which (I am humbly persuaded) your goodness will not deny. That noble favour of yours, shining upon these my weak endeavours, will encourage me to publish some maturer thoughts, which otherwise have resolved never to see the light. The sole glory of our most gracious God, the edification and comfort of his church, with the true felicity of yourself and yours, shall be always prayed for by

Your ever honoured virtue's humble and thankful servant,

Thomas Adams.

* A large number of thoughts, in Jenkyn's Exposition of Judo (London, 1652) have been taken from Adams's Commentary on the 2d Peter. The curious in such questions may .see them in A Vindication of the Conjorming Clergy, &c., in a letter to a friend. London, 1076.

Thus far in these vokimes the text is reprinted from the folio volume published by Adams himself The two following sermons are reprinted from a small volume in the British Museum. They bear the name of Thos. Adams on the title ; and are clearly, from internal evidence, the production of the same man. They were published in 1653, the year in which Cromwell became Lord Protector. The author was then passing ' a necessitous and decrepit old age ;' but his spirit is as bold and as unbroken as ever. We should be recreant to our principles as admirers of all conscientious servants of our Lord, if we withheld from Adams amid these distresses the tribute of our sympathy and love.

God's Anger and Man's Comfort : Two Sermons Preached and Published by Thomas Adams.

London : Printed by Thomas Maxey for Samuel Mara, at the sign of the Swan in St Paul's Churchyard. 1653.

To the most honourable and charitable benefactors, whom God hath honoured for his almoners and sanctified to be his dispensers of the fruits of charity and mercy to me, in this my necessitous and decrepit old age, I humbly present this testimony of my thankfulness, with my incessant ap-precations to the Father of all mercies, to reward them for it in this hfe, and to crown their souls with everlasting joy and glory in the life to come, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Thomas Adams.

The Publisher is indebted to the Kev. A. B. Grosart of Kinross for bringing these sermons under his notice; and to the same loving inquirer into all that Adams has done and taught, the writer of this brief memoir begs to express his obligations.

J. A.

SEMPER IDEM;

OB,

THE IMMUTABLE MEECY OF JESUS CHRIST.

'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.'' — Heb. XITE. 8.

By the name of Jehovah was God kno^vn to Israel, from the time of the first mission of Moses to them, and their manumission out of Egj'pt, and not befoi'e. For, saith God to Moses, ' I appeared unto Abraham, and unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, by the name of God Almighty; but by my name Jehovah was I not known to them,' Exod. vi. 3. This I am is an eternal word, comprehending three times: ' that was, that is, and is to come.'

Now, to testify the equality of the Son to the Father, the Scripture gives the same eternity to Jesus that it doth to Jehovah. He is called Alpha and Omega, jmmns et novissiuitis, ' the First and the Last: which is, which was, and which is to come,' Rev. i.; and here, * the same j'csterday, and to-day, and for ever.' Therefore he was not only Christ us Dei, the anointed of God, but Christus Deus, God himself anointed; seeing that eternity, which hath neither beginning nor ending, is only pecuhar and proper to God.

The words may be distinguished into a centre, a circumference, and a mediate line, refeiTing the one to the other. The immovable centre is Jesus Christ. The circumference, that nms round about him here, is eternity : ' Yesterday, to-day, and for ever.' The mediate line rcfemng them is, 6 a'jrog, the same : ' Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.'

I. The centre is Jesus Christ. Jesus was his proper name, Christ his appellative. Jesus a name of his natui'e, Christ of his office and dignity; as divines speak.

Jesus, a name of all sweetness. Mel in ore, inelos in aure, juhihis in corde.^- A reconciler, a Redeemer, a Sa\'iour. When the conscience wrestles with law, sin, death, there is nothing but horror and despair without Jesus. He is ' the way, the truth, and the hfe ;' ■without him, error, mcndacium, mors. Si scribas, von j)lacet, nisi lef/am ibi, Jesum, saith Bernard : If thou writcst to me, thy letter doth not please me, unless I read there Jesus. If thou conferrest, thy discourse is not sweet, without the name of Jesus. The

*" Bcr. in Can.

blessed restorer of all, of more than all that Adam lost; for we have gotten more by his regenerating gi'ace than we lost by Adam's degenerating sin.

Christ is the name of his office; being appointed and anointed of God a king, a priest, a prophet.

This Jesus Christ is our Savioui': of whose names I forbear further discourse, being unable, though I had the tongue of angels, to speak aught worthy taiito nomine, tanto numine. All that can be said is but a httle; but I must say but a little in all. But of all names given to our Redeemer, still Jesus is the sweetest. Other, saith Bernard, are names of majesty; Jesus is a name of mercy. The Word of God, the Son of God, the Christ of God, are titles of glory; Jesus, a Saviour, is a title of grace, mercy, redemption.

This Jesus Christ is the centre of this text; and not only of this, but of the whole Scripture. The sum of divinity is the Scripture; the sum of the Scripture is the gospel; the sum of the gospel is Jesus Christ; in a word, nihil continet verbum Domini, nisi verbum Dominum. There is nothing contained in the word of God, but God the word.

Nor is he the centre only of his word, but of our rest and peace. ' I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified,' 1 Cor. ii. 2. Thou hast made us for thee, 0 Christ; and our heart is unquiet till it rest in thee. It is natural to everything ajopetere centrum, to desire the centre. But ' our hfe is hid with Christ in God,' Col. iii. 3. We must needs amare, where we must animare. Our mind is where our pleasure is, our heart is where our treasure is, our love is where oui' life is; but all these, our pleasure, treasure, life, are reposed in Jesus Christ. ' Thou art my portion, 0 Lord,' saith David. Take the world that please, let our portion be in Christ. ' We have left all,' saith Peter, 'and followed thee,' Matt. xix. 27; you have lost nothing by it, saith Christ, for you have gotten me. Nimis avarus est, cui non sufficit Christus. He is too covetous, whom Jesus Christ cannot satisfy. Let us seek this centre, saith Agustine: QiKBramus inveniendum, qu^ramus inventum. Ut inveniendus quaratur, paratus est: ut inventus quaratur, immensus est: * Let us seek him till we have found him; and still seek him when we have found him. That seeking, we may find him, he is ready; that finding, we may seek him, he is infinite. You see the centre.

II. The referring line, proper to this centre, is Semper idem, ' The same.' There is no mutabiUty in Christ; ' no variableness, nor shadow of turning,' Jam. i. 17. All lower lights have their inconstancy; but in the ' Father of lights' there is no changeableness. The sun hath his shadow; the ' Sun of righteousness' is without shadow, Mai. iv, 2; that tm-ns upon the dial, but Christ hath no tiu'ning. ' Whom he loves, he loves to the end,' John xui. 1. He loves us to the end; of his love there is no end. Tempus erit consummandi, nullum consumendi misericordiam. His mercy shall be perfected in us, never ended. ' In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness wiU I have mercy upon thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer,' Isa. liv. 8. His wrath is short, his goodness is everlasting. ' The mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee,' ver. 10. The mountains are stable things, the hills stedfast; yet hills, mountains, yea the whole earth, shall totter on its foundations; yea the veiy ' heavens shall pass away with a noise, and the elements shall melt with heat,' 2 Pet. iii.

* In Joan.

10; but the covenant of God shall not bo broken. ' I will betroth thee unto me for ever,' saith God, Hos. ii. 19. This marriage-bond shall never be cancelled; nor sin, nor death, nor hell, shall be able to divorce us. Six-and-tweuty times in one psalm that sweet singer chaunts it; ' His mercy endureth for ever,' Ps. cxxxvi. ' Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.'

As this meditation distils into our believing hearts much comfort, so let it give us some instructions. Two things it readily teacheth us: a dissuasive caution, and a persuasive lesson.

1. It dissuades our confidence in worldly things, because they are inconstant. How poor a space do they remain, Ta aura, ' the same.' To prove this, you have in Jud. i. 7, a jury of thi-eescoro and ten kings to take their oaths upon it. Ever}' one had his throne, yet there they lick up cnimbs under another king's table; and shortly even this king, that made them all so miserable, is made himself most miserable. Solomon compares wealth to a wild fowl. ' Riches make themselves wings, they fly away as an eagle toward heaven,' Prov. xxiii. 5. Not some tame house-bird, or a hawk that may be fetched down with a Im-e, or found again by her bells; but an eagle, that violently cuts the air, and is gone past recalling.

Wealth is hke a bird; it hops all day fi'om man to man, as that doth fi-om tree to tree; and none can say where it will roost or rest at night. It is like a vagi'ant fellow, which because he is big-boned, and able to work, a man takes in a-doors, and cherisheth; and perhaps for a while he takes pains; but when he spies opportunity, the fugitive servant is gone, and takes away more with him than all his service came to. The world may seem to stand thee in some stead for a season, but at last it irrevocably runs away, and carries with it thy joys; thy goods, as Rachel stole Laban's idols; thy peace and content of heart goes with it, and thou art left desperate.

You see how quickly riches cease to be ' the same :' and can any other earthly thing boast more stability ? Honom- must put off its robes when the play is done; make it never so glorious a show on this world's stage, it hath but a short part to act. A gi-eat name of worldly glory is but like a peal iTing on the bells; the common people ai-e the clappers; the rope that moves them is popularity; if you once let go yom- hold and leave pulUng, the clapper lies still, and farewell honour. Strength, though, like Jeroboam, it put forth the ami of oppression, shall soon fall do\vn withered, 1 Kings xiii. 4. Beauty is like an almanack : if it last a year it is well. Pleasure like hghtning: oritur, moritur; sweet, but short; a flash and away.

All vanities are but butterflies, which wanton children greedily catch for* ; and sometimes they fly beside them, sometimes before them, sometimes behind them, sometimes close by them ; yea, thi-ough their fingers, and yet they miss them ; and when they have them, they are but buttei-flies ; they have painted wings, but are crude and squalid wonns. Such are the things of this world, vanities, butterflies. Vel scqnendo labimur, rel asscquendo ladi-mur. The world itself is not unlike an artichoke ; nine parts of it are unprofitable leaves, scarce the tithe is good: about it there is a little picking meat, nothing so wholesome as dainty: in the midst of it there is a core, which is enough to choke them that devour it.

0 then set not yom- hearts upon these things : calcaiida stmt, as Jerome observes on Acts iv. * They that sold their possessions, brought the prices, and laid them do^^^l at the Apostles' feet," Acts iv. 35. At their feet, not at

* Anselm, Medit.

their hearts; they are fitter to be trodden under feet, than to he waited on with hearts. I conclude this with Augustine. Ecce turbat mimdus, etaviatur: quid si tranquillus esset ? Formosa quomodo hareres, qui sic amplecteris fadum? Flores ejus qiiam colligeres,qui sic a sjnnis non revocas maimm ? Quam confideres (Bterno, qui sic adhceres caduco ? Behold, the world is turbulent and full of vexation, yet it is loved ; how would it be embraced if it were calm and quiet ? If it were a beauteous damsel, how would they dote on it, that so kiss it being a deformed stigmatic ? How greedily would they gather the flowers, who would not forbear the thorns ? They that so adrnke it being transient and temporal, how would they be enamoured on it if it were eternal ? But ' the world passeth,' 1 John ii. 17, and God abideth. ' They shall perish, but thou remainest: they all shall wax old as doth a garment: and as a vestm-e shalt thou fold them up, and they shall be changed: but thou art the same, and thy years shall not fail,' Heb. i. 11, 12. Therefore, 'trust not in uncertain riches, but in the living God,' 1 Tim. vi. 17. And then, ' they that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Sion, which cannot be removed, but abideth for ever,' Psa. cxxv. 1. ' Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.'

2. This persuades us to an imitation of Christ's constancy. Let the stableness of his mercy to us work a stableness of om* love to him. And howsoever, like the lower orbs, we have a natural motion of our own from good to evil, yet let us sufler the higher power to move us supernaturally from evil to good. There is in us indeed a reluctant flesh, * a law in our members warring against the law of om-mind,' Eom. vii. 23. So Augustine confesseth : Nee x>lcme nolebam, nee plane voleham. And, £"^70 eram qui voU-bam, ego qui nolebam.''' I neither fully granted, nor plainly denied ; and it was I myself that both would and would not. But our ripeness of Christianity must overgi'ow fluctuant thoughts.

Lrresolution and unsteadiness is hatefol, and unlike to our master Christ, who is ever the same. ' A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways,' James i. 8. The inconstant man is a stranger in his own house : all his purposes are but guests, his heart is the inn.' If they lodge there for a night, it is all; they are gone in the morning. Many motions come crowding together upon him; and like a great press at a narrow door, whiles all strive, none enter. The epigrammatist wittily.

Omnia cum facias, miraris cur facias nil ? Posthume, rem solam qui facit, ille facit.f

He that will have an oar for every man's boat, shall have none left to row his own. They, saith Melancthon, that A\ill know aliquid in omnibus, shall indeed know nihil in toto. Their admiration or dotage of a thing is extreme for the time, but it is a wonder if it outlive the age of a wonder, which is allowed but nine days. They are angiy with time, and say the times are dead, because they produce no more innovations. Their inquiry of aU things is not qudm bonum, but qudm novum.. They are almost weaiy of the sun for continual shining. Continuance is a sufficient quarrel against the best things ; and the manna of heaven is loathed because it is common.

This is not to be always the same, but never the same ; and whiles they would be every thing, they are nothing: but like the wonn Pliny writes of, mulVqjoda, that hath many feet, yet is of slow pace. Awhile you shall have him in England, loving the simple truth; anon in Rome, gi'ovelling before an image. Soon after he leaps to Amsterdam; and yet must he still be *■ Confess, lib. viii. cap. 10. f Martial, Epig. lib. 3.

turning, till there be nothing left but to turn Turk. To winter an opinion is too tedious ; he hath been many things. What ho will be, you shall scarce know till ho is nothing.

But the God of constancy would have his to be constant. Stcdfast in your faith to him. * Continue in the faith, grounded and settled, and be not moved away from the hope of the gospel,' Col. i. 23. Stedfast in yoiu'faithfulness to man, promising and not disappointing, Psalm xv. 4. Do not aliitd stantes, aliud sedentcs, lost yom* changing with God teach God to change with you. Nemo potest tihi Christ tan aiij'crre, 7iisi te illi an/eras.-'--No man can tiu-n Christ from thee, unless thou turn thyself from Christ. For ' Jesus Chi'ist the same yesterday,' &c.

III. We now come to the circumference, wherein is a distinction of three times; past, present, future. Tcmjyora mutantur: the times change, the cii"cumfereuce wheels about, but the centre is ' the same for ever.'

We must resolve this triplicity into a triplicity. Christ is the same according to these thi'ee distinct terms, three distinct ways:—1. Objective, in his word; 2, subjective, in his power; 3, effective, in his gi'acious operation.

1. Objectively.—Jesus Christ is the same'in his word ; and that (1) Yesterday in pre-ordination ; (2) To-day in incarnation ; (3) For ever in application.

(1.) Yesterday in pre-ordination.—So St Peter, in his sermon, tells the Jews, that ' he was delivered by the detei-minate counsel and foreknowledge of God,' Acts ii. 23. And in his epistle, that ' he was verily preordained before the foundation of the world,' 1 Pet. i. 20. He is called the 'Lamb slain from the foundation of the world,' Rev. xiii. 8. F rim prof nit, qitam fuit. His prophets did foretell him, the types did prefigm-e him, God himself did promise him. Eatiis ordo Dei: the decree of God is constant.

Much comfort I must here leave to j'our meditation. If God preordained a Saviour for man, before he had either made man, or man maiTed himself, —as Paul to Timoth}-, ' He hath saved us according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Chi'ist Jesus before the world began,' 2 Tim. i. 9 ;—then surely he meant that nothing should separate us from his eternal love in that Saviom*, Rom. viii. 39. Quos elegit increatos, redemit per-ditos, non deserct redemptos. Whom he chose before they were created, and when they were lost redeemed, he will not forsake being sanctified.

(2.) To-day in incarnation.—' When the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his Son made of a woman,' Gal. iv. 4. * The Word was made flesh,' John i. 14; which was, saith Emissenus,f Kon deposita, sed seposita majestate. Thus he became younger than his mother, that is as eternal as his Father. He was yesterday God before all worlds, he is now made man in the world. Sam/uinem, quern pro viatre obtulit, antea de sanpidne matris accepit.\ The blood that he shed for his mother, he had from his mother. The same Eusebius, on the ninth of Isaiah, acutely, ' Unto us a child is bom, unto us a son is given,' Isa. ix. 6. He was Datus ex Vivinitate, natus ex virfjine. Datus est qui erat; natus est qui non erat. He was given of the Deity, born of the Virgin. He that was given, was before; he, as born, was not before. Donum dedit Deus aquale sibi: God gave a gift equal to himself.

So he is the same yesterday and to-day, objectively in his word. Idem qui velatus in vcteri, revelatus in novo. In illo pro'dictus, in isto pra'dicatus. Yesterday prefigured in the law, to-day the same manifested in the gospel.

(3.) For ever in operation.§—He doth continually by his Spirit apply to our consciences the virtue of his death and passion. * As many as receive

* Ambr. in Luc. lib. 5. J Eusob. Emiss. ubi supra,

t Horn. 2, de Nat. Christ. § AppUcatiou.—Ed.

him, to them gives he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name,' John i. 12. ' By one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified,' Heb. x. 14. This is sure comfort to us; though he died almost 1629 years ago, his blood is not yet dry. His wounds are as fresh to do us good, as they were to those saints that beheld them bleeding on the cross. The virtue of his merits is not abated, though many hands of faith have taken large portions out of his treasury. The river of his grace, ' which makes glad the city of God,' runs over its banks, though infinite souls have drank hearty draughts, and satisfied their thirst. But because we cannot apprehend this for ourselves of om-selves, therefore he hath promised to send us the ' Spirit of truth, who will dwell with us,' John xiv. 17, and apply this to us for ever. Thus you have seen the first triplicity, how he is the same objectively in his word. Now he is

2. Subjectively, in his power the same ; and that (1) Yesterday, for he made the world; (2) To-day, for he governs the world; (3) For ever, for he shall judge the world.

(1.) Yesterday in the creation. * All things were made by him, and without him was not anything made that was made,' John i. 3. ' By him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions, or principalities, or powers; all things were created by him, and for him,' Col. i. 16. All things, even the great and fair book of the world, of three so large leaves, ccelum, solum., salum; heaven, earth, and sea. The prophet calls him ' the everlasting Father,' Isa. ix. 6; Daniel, the 'Ancient of days,'J)an. vii. 9. Solomon says, that' the Lord possessed him in the beginning of his way, before his works of old,' Prov. viii. 22. So himself told the unbelieving Jews, * Before Abraham was, I am,' John viii. 58.

We owe, then, ourselves to Chi'ist for our creation; but how much more for our redemption ? Si totum me debeo pro me facto, quid addam jam pro me refecto ? In p)rimo opere me mihi dedit: in secundo se mihi deditJ^' If I owe him my whole self for making me, what have I left to pay him for redeeming me ? In the first work, he gave myself to me ; in the second, he gave himself to me. By a double right, we owe him ourselves; we are worthy of a double punishment, if we give him not his own.

(2.) To-day in the governing. ' He upholdeth all things by the word of his power,' Heb. i. 3. He is jyater familias, and disposeth all things in this universe with gi'eater care and providence than any householder can manage the business of his private family. He leaves it not, as the carpenter having built the fi'ame of an house, to others to perfect it, but looks to it himself. His creation and providence are like the mother and the nurse, the one producetb, the other preserveth. His creation was a short providence; his providence a perpetual creation. The one sets up the frame of the house, the other keeps it in reparation.

Neither is this a disparagement to the majesty of God, as the vain Epicures imagined, curare minima, to regard the least things, but rather an honour, curare iufinita, to regard all things. Neither doth this extend only to natural things, chained together by a regular order of succession, but even to casual and contingent things. Oftentimes, ciim aliud volumus, aliud agimus, the event crosseth our purpose; which must content us, though it faU out otherwise than we purposed, because God purposed as it is fallen out. It is enough that the thing attain its owia end, though it miss ours; that God's will be done, though ours be crossed. * Bern, de dilig. Deo.

But let me say, Hath God care of fowls and flowers, and will he not care for you, his own image ? Matt. ^^. 2G-80. Yea, let me go further; hath God care of the wicked ? Doth he pour down the happy influences of heaven on the ' unjust man's gi'omid ?' Matt. v. 45. And shall the faithful want his hlcssing'? Doth he provide for the sons of Belial, and shall his own children lack ? He may give meat and raiment to the rest, but his bounty to Benjamin shall exceed. If Moab, his wash-pot, taste of his benefits, then Judah, the signet on his finger, cannot be forgotten. The king governs all the subjects in his dominions, but his servants that wait in his court partake of his most princely favours. God heals the sores of the very wicked ; but if it be told him, * Lord, he whom thou lovest is sick,' (John xi. 3), it is enough, he shall be healed. The wicked may have outward blessings without inward, and that is Esau's pottage without his birthright ; but the elect have inward blessings, though they want outward, and that is Jacob's inheritance without his pottage.

(3.) For ever : because he shall judge the world. * God hath appointed a day in which he will judge the world in righteousness, by that man whom he hath ordained,' Acts x^^i. 31. ' In the day that God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ,' Rom. ii. 16. Let the wicked flatter themselves that all is but talk of any coming to judgment; ?io» aliml videre patres, aliudve ncpotcs aspicient; all is but ierricidamcnta ntitricuni, mere scare-babes. Scribarum penncc mendaces; they have written lies, there is no such matter. But when they shall see that Lamb ' whom they have pierced' and scorned (Rev. i. 7), 'they shall ciy to the mountains and rocks. Fall upon us, and cover us,' Rev. vi. 16. Now they flatter themselves with his death; Mortuus est, he is dead and gone ; and ]\[ortuum CcEsarem quis metidt ? Who fears even a Caisar when he is dead ? But' He that was dead, liveth; behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen,' Rev. i. 18. ' Jesus Christ, yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.' Qimsitor scclerum veniet, vindexque reorum.

Here is matter of infallible comfort to us : ' Lift up your heads, for your redemption di'aweth nigh,' Lulie xxi. 28. Here we are imprisoned, martyred, tortured ; but when that great assize and general jail-deliveiy comes, mors non erit ultra, ' There shall be no more death nor sorrow, but all tears shall be wiped fi-om om- eyes,' Rev. xxi. 4. ' For it is a righteous thing with God to recompense tribulation to them that trouble you. And to you who are troubled, rest with us, when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, with his mighty angels,' 2 Thess. i. 6, 7. We shall then find him the same;—the same Lamb that bought us shall give us a Venitc heati, ' Come, ye blessed, receive your kingdom.' ' Sm'ely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come. Lord Jesus,' Rev. xxii. 20.

3. Effectually in his grace and mercy. So he is the same, (1) Yesterday to our fathers; (2) To-day to ourselves; (3) For ever to our children.

(1.) Yesterday to our fathers.—All our fathers, whose souls are now in heaven, those ' spirits of just men made perfect,' Heb. xii. 23, were, as the next words intimate, saved * by Jesus, the INIediator of the new covenant, and by the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel.' AVhether they lived under nature, or under the law, Christ was their expectation; and they were justified credendo in venturum Christum, by beheving in the Messiah to come. So Luke ii. 25, Simeon is said to ' wait for the consolation of Israel.'

(2.) To-day to ourselves.—His mercy is everlasting; his truth endureth from generation to generation. The same gracious Saviour that he was

yesterday to our fathers, is he to-day to us, if we be to-day faithful to him. All catch at this comfoi-t, but in vain without the hand of faith. There is no deficiency in him; but is there none in thee ? Whatsoever Chiist is, what art thou ? He forgave Maiy Magdalene many grievous sins ; so he will forgive thee, if thou canst shed Mary Magdalene's tears. He took the malefactor from the cross to Paradise ; thither he will receive thee if thou have the same faith. He was merciful to a denying apostle; challenge thou the like mercy, if thou have the like repentance. If we will be like these, Christ, assuredly, will be ever like himself. When any man shall prove to be such a sinner, he will not fail to be such a Saviour.

To-day he is thine, if to-day thou wilt be his: thine to-morrow, if yet to-morrow thou wilt be his. But how if dark death prevent the morrow's light ? He was yesterday, so wert thou: he is to-day, so art thou: he is to-morrow, so perhaps mayest thou not be. Time may change thee, though it cannot change him. He is not (but thou art) subject to mutation. This I dare boldly say: he that repents but one day before he dies, shall find Christ the same in mercy and forgiveness. Wickedness itself is glad to hear this; but let the sinner be faithful on his part, as God is merciful on his part: let him be sure that he repent one day before he dies, whereof he cannot be sm'e, except he repent eveiy day; for no man knows his last day. Latet ultimus dies, ut observetur omnis dies. Therefore (saith Augustine) we know not our last day, that we might observe every day. ' To-day, therefore, hear his voice,' Psa. xcv. 7.

Thou hast lost yesterday negligently, thou losest to-day wilfully; and therefore mayest lose for ever inevitably. It is just with God to punish two days' neglect with the loss of the third. The hand of faith may be withered, the spring of repentance dried up, the eye of hope blind, the foot of charity lame. To-day, then, hear his voice, and make him thine. Yesterday is lost, to-day may be gotten; but that once gone, and thou with it, when thou art dead and judged, it will do thee small comfort that ' Jesus Christ is the same for ever.'

(3.) For ever to our children.—He that was yesterday the God of Abraham, is to-day ours, and wiU be for ever our children's. As well now 'the light of the Gentiles,' as before 'the glory of Israel,' Luke ii. 32. I will be the God of thy seed, saith the Lord to Abraham. ' His mercy is on them that fear him, from generation to generation,' Luke i. 50.

Many persons are solicitously perplexed, how their children shaU do when they are dead; yet they consider not how God provided for them when they were children. Is the ' Lord's arm shortened ?' Did he take thee from thy mother's breasts; and 'when thy parents forsook thee,' (as the Psalmist saith), became thy Father ? And cannot this experienced mercy to thee, persuade thee that he will not forsake thine ? Is not ' Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever?' 'I have been young,' saith David, ' and am now old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken'—that is granted, nay—'nor his seed begging bread,' Ps. xxxvii. 25.

Many distrustful fathers are so carking for their posterity, that while they live they stai-ve their bodies, and hazard their souls, to leave them rich. To such a father it is said justly: Dives es liaredi, j^miper inopsque tibi. Like an over-kind hen, he feeds his chickens, and famisheth himself. If usury, circumvention, oppression, extortion, can make them rich, they shall not be poor. Their folly is ridiculous; they fear lest their children should be miserable, yet take the only com-se to make them miserable; for

they leave tlicm not so much heirs to their goods as to their evils. They do as certainly inherit their father's sins as their lands: ' God layeth up his iniquity for his children; and his offspring shall want a morsel of hread,' Job xxi. 19.

On the contraiy, 'the good man is merciful, and lendclh; and his seed is blessed,' Ps. xxxvii. 26. That the worldling thinks shall make his posterity poor, God saith shall make the good man's rich. The precept gives a promise of mercy to obedience, not only confined to the obedient man's self, but extended to his seed, and that even to a thousand generations, Exod. XX. 6. Trust, then, Christ with thy children; when thy friends shall fail, usury bear no date, oppression be condemned to hell, thyself rotten to the dust, the world itself turned and bm-ned into cinders, still 'Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.' Now then, as ' grace and peace arc from him which is, and which was, and which is to come;' so glory and honour be to him, which is, and which was, and which is to come; even to * Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever,' Rev. i. 4.

THE TAMING OF THE TONGUE.

But the tongue can no man tame; it is an imrmy evil, full of deadly 2wiso7i.' — James III. 8.

Heee is a single position, guarded with a double reason. The position is, ' No man can tame the tongue.' The reasons; 1. It is 'unruly.' 2. ' Full of deadly poison.' Here is busy dealing with a wild member ; a more difficult task, and intractable nature have met. Tongue is the subject (I mean in the discom-se), and can you ever think of subjecting it to modest reason, or taming it to religion ? Go lead a lion in a single hair, send up an eagle to the sky to peck out a star, coop up the thunder, and quench a flaming city with one widow's tears; if thou couldst do these, yet nescit modo lingua domari. As the proposition is backed with two reasons ; so each reason hath a terrible second. The evil hath for its second un-ruliness ; the poisonfulness hath deadly. It is evil, yea, unraly evil; it is poison, yea, deadly poison. The fort is so barricaded, that it is hard scaling it; the refractory rebel so guarded with evil and poison, so warded with unraly and deadly, as if it were with giants in an enchanted tower, as they fabulate, that no man can tame it. Yet let us examine the matter, and find a stratagem to subdue it.

I. In the Proposition we will observe, 1. The nature of the thing to be tamed. 2. The difficulty of accomplishing it.

1. The insubjectable subject is the tongue, which is (1), a member; and (2), an excellent, necessary, little, singular member.

(1.) It is a member.—He that made all made the tongue; he that craves all, must have the tongue. Qui creavit necessariam, postulat creatam. It is an instrument; let it give music to him that made it. All creatures in their kind bless God, Ps. cxhdii. They that want tongues, as the heavens, sun, stars, meteors, orbs, elements, praise him with such obedient testimonies as their insensible natures can aflford. They that have tongues, though they want reason, praise him with those natural organs. The bii'ds of the air sing, the beasts of the earth make a noise ; not so much as the hissing serpents, the very ' dragons in the deep,' but sound out his praise. Man, then, that hath a tongue, and a reason to guide it, and more, a reh-gion to direct his reason, should much much more bless him. Therefore, says the Psalmogi-apher, that for the well timing of his tongue is called the ' Sweet Singer of Israel,' ' I will praise the Lord with the best instrument I have,' which was his tongue.

Not that praise can add to God's glor}-, nor blasphemies detract from it. The blessing tongue cannot make him better, nor the cm-sing, worse. Nee melior si laudavcris, nee deterior si vituperavemJ- As the sun is neither bettered by birds singing, nor battered by dogs barking. He is so infinitely great, and constantly good, that his glory admits neither addition nor diminution.

Yet we that cannot make his name greater, can make it seem greater; and though wo cannot enlarge his gloiy, wo may enlarge the manifestation of his gloiy. This both in words praising and in works practising. We know it is impossible to make a new Christ, as the papists boast the al-mightiness of their priests ; yet our holy lives and happy lips (if I may so speak) may make a little Christ a great Christ. They that before little regarded him, may thus be brought to esteem him gi'eatly; giving him the honom* due to his name, and glorifying him, after om* example.

This is the tongue's office. Every member, without arrogating any merit, or boasting the beholdenness of the rest unto it, is to do that duty which is assigned to it. The eye is to see for all, the ear to hear for all, the hand to work for all, the feet to walk for all, the knees to bow for all, the tongue to praise God for all. This is the tongue's office, not unlike the town-clerk's, which, if it perform not well, the corporation is better without it. The tongue is man's clapper, and is given him that he may sound out the praise of his Maker. Infinite causes draw deservingly from man's lips, a devout acknowledgment of God's praise ; Quia Creator ad esse; Conservator in esse; Becreator in bene esse; Glorijicator in optima esse.

He gave us being that had none ; presented us in that being; restored us, voluntarily fallen, unto a better being; and will glorify us with the best at the day of the Lord Jesus. Then let the tongue know. Si non reddet Deo faciendo qim debet, reddet eipatiendo qua; debet.} If it will not pay God the debt it owes him in an active thankfulness, it shall pay him in a passive painfulness. Let the meditation hereof put our tongues into tune. ' A word fitly spoken, is like apples of gold in pictures of silver,' Prov. xxv. 11.

(2.) It is a member you hear; we must take it with all its properties ; excellent, necessaiy, little, singular.

[1.] Excellent. Abstractively and simply understood, it is an exceeding excellent member, both quoad mojestatem, et quoad jucunditatem.

First; For the majesty of it, it carries an imperious speech ; wherein it hath the pre-eminence of all mortal creatures. It was man's tongue to which the Lord gave licence to call all the living creatures, and to give them names, Gen. ii. 19. And it is a strong motive to induce and to beget in other terrene natures a reverence and admiration of man. Therefore it is observed, that God did punish the ingi-atitude of Balaam, when he gave away some of the dignity proper to man, which is use of speech, and imparted it to the ass. Man alone speaks. I know that spirits can frame an aerial voice, as the devil when he spake in the serpent that fatal temptation, as in a trunk ; but man only hath the habitual faculty of speaking.

SccondJij; For the pleasantness of the tongue, the general consent of all gives it the truest vwlos, and restrains all musical organs from the worth and praise of it. * The pipe and the psaltery make sweet melody; but a pleasant tongue is above them both,' Ecclus. xl. 21. No instruments are so ravishing, or prevail over man's heart with so powerful complacency, as the tongue and voice of man.

If the tongue be so excellent, how then doth this text censure it for so * Aug. in Ps. exxxiv. ■)■ August.

evil ? I take the pliiloshplier's old and trite answer, Lingua nihil est vel bona melius, vel mala pejus: Than a good tongue, there is nothing better ; than an evil, nothing worse. Nihil habet medium, aut grande honum est, aut grande malum ;•'•= It hath no mean ; it is either exceedingly good or excessively evil. It knows nothing but extremes ; and is or good, best of all; or bad, worst of all. If it be good, it is a walking garden, that scatters in every place a sweet flower, an herb of gi'ace to the hearers. If it be evil, it is a wild bedlam, fall of goading and madding mischiefs. So the tongue is every man's best or worst moveable.

Hereupon that philosophical servant, when he was commanded to provide the best meat for his master's table, the worst for the family, bought and brought to either, neats' tongues. His moral was, that this was both the best and worst service, according to the goodness or badness of the tongue. A good tongue is a special dish for Grod's public service. Pars optima hominis, dignaqucB sit hostia:\ The best part of a man, and most worthy the honour of sacrifice. This only when it is well seasoned. Seasoned, I say, ' with salt,' as the apostle admonisheth ; not with fire, Col. iv. G. Let it not be so salt as fii-e (as that proverb speaks), which no man living hath tasted. There is ' a city of salt,'mentioned Josh. xv. 62. Let no man be an inhabitant of this salt city. Yet better a salt tongue than an oily. Rather ' let the righteous reprove me,' than the precious balms of flatterers break my head, whilst they most sensibly soothe and supple it. We allow the tongue salt, not pepper; let it be well seasoned, but not too hot. Thus a good tongue is God's dish, and he will accept it at his own table.

But an evil tongue is meat for the devil, according to the Italian proverb : The devil makes his Christmas pie of lewd tongues. It is his daintiest dish, and he makes much of it; whether on earth, to serve his turn as an instrument of mischief, or in hell, to answer his fury in torments. Thus saith Solomon of the good tongue : ' The tongue of the just is as choice silver, and the lips of the righteous feed many,' Prov. x. 20, 21. But Saint James of the bad one : ' It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.'

[2.] It is necessary ; so necessary, that without a tongue I could not declare the necessity of it. It converseth with man, convejdng to others by this organ that experimental knowledge which must else live and die in himself. It imparts secrets, communicates joys, which would be less happy suppressed than they are expressed ; mirth without a partner is hilaris cum pondere feli-citas. But to disburden giiefs, and pour forth sorrows in the bosom of a friend, 0 necessary tongue ! How many hearts would have burst if thou hadst not given them vent! How many souls fallen grovelling under their load, if thou hadst not called for some supportance ! How many a panting spiiit hath said, I will speak yet ere I die ; and by spealdng received comfort ! Lastly, it speaks our devotions to heaven, and hath the honour to confer with God. It is that instrument which the Holy Ghost useth in us to cry, ' Abba, Father.' It is our spokesman ; and he that can hear the heart without a tongue, regardeth the devotions of the heart better, when they are sent up by a diligent messenger, a faithful tongue.

[3.] It is little. As man is a little world in the great, so is his tongue a great world in the little. It is a ' little member,' saith the apostle, ver. 5, yet it is a world ; yea, pravitatis universitas, ' a world of iniquity,' ver. 6. It is parvum, but pravum; little in quantity, but great in iniquit3\ What it hath lost in the thickness, it hath gotten in the quickness ; and the defect of magnitude is recompensed in the agility. An arm may be longer, but the * Hieron. t Prudentiu3.

tongiie is stronger; and a leg hath more flesh than it hath, besides bones, which it hath not; yet the tongue still nins quicker and faster : and if the wager lie for holding out, without doubt the tongue shall win it.

If it be a talking tongue, it is iniuidiis fjarnditaiis, a world of prating. If it be a wrangling tongue, it is 7nundus Utir/atioim, a world of babbling. If it be a learned tongue, it is, as Erasmus said of Bishop Tonstal, mundus eruditionis, a world of learning. If it be a petulant tongue, it is mundm scurrilitatis, a world of wantonness. If it be a poisonous tongue, it is 7nun-dus infectionis; saith our apostle, 'it defileth the whole body,' vcr. G. It is ' httle.'

So httle, that it will scarce give a kite her breakfast, yet it can discourse of the sun and stars, of orbs and elements, of angels and devils, of nature and arts ; and hath no straiter limits than the whole world to walk through. Homuncio est, rjiganteajactat: It is a 'httle member,'yet ' boasteth great things,' ver. 5.

Though it bo httle, yet if good, it is of gi-eat use. A little bit guidcth a great horse, ad cquitis libitum, to the rider's pleasure. A little helm nileth a^'eat vessel; though the winds blow, and the floods oppose, yet the helm > steers the ship. Though little, yet if evil, it is of gi-eat mischief. ' A little leaven sours the whole lump,' 1 Cor. v. G. A little reinora dangers a great vessel. A little sickness distempereth the whole body. A little fire setteth a whole city on combustion. ' Behold how great a matter a httle fire kindleth,' ver. 6.

It is little in substance, yet great ad affectum, to provoke passion; ad effectum, to produce action. A Seminary's tongue is able to set instraments on work to blow up a parliament. So God hath disposed it among the members, that it governs or misgoverns all; and is either a good king, or a cruel tyrant. It either prevails to good, or peiTerts to e\il; pm-ifieth or putrefieth the whole carcase, the whole conscience. It betrayeth the heart, when the heart would betray God ; and the Lord lets it double treason on itself, when it prevaricates with him.

It is a httle leak that drowneth a ship, a little breach that loseth an army, a little spring that pom's forth an ocean. Little ; j-et the lion is more troubled with the little wasp, than with the gi*eat elephant. And it is observable, that the Egyptian sorcerers failed in ^ninimis, that appeared skilful and powerful in majoribus. Doth Moses turn the waters into blood ? ' The magicians did so with their enchantments,' Exod. \ai. 22. Doth Aaron stretch out his hand over the waters, and cover the land with frogs ? ' The magicians did so with their enchantments,' Exod. viii. 7. But when Aaron smote the dust of the land, and turned it into lice (ver. 17), the magicians could not effect the like; nor in the ashes of the fmnaco turned into boils and blains, chap. ix. 10. In frogs and waters they held a semblance, not in the dust and ashes turned into lice and sores. Many have dealt better ^^^th the greater members of the body than with this little one. Defece}-unt in minimis:

Virtus non minima est, minimam compescere linguam. '

[4.] It is a singular member. God hath given man two ears; one to hear instructions of human knowledge, the other to hearken to his divine precepts ; the former to conserve his body, the latter to save his soul. Two eyes, that with the one he might see to his own way, with the other pity and commiserate his distressed brethren. Two hands, that with the one he might work for his own h\-ing, with the other give and relievo his brother's wants. Two feet, one to walk on common days to his ordiuaiy labour.

' Man goes forth in the morning to his labour, and continues till the evening,' Ps. civ. 23: the other, on sacred days to visit and frequent the temple and the congregation of saints. But among all, he hath given him but one tongue; which may instruct him to hear twice so much as he speaks ; to work and walk twice so much as he speaks. * I will praise thee, 0 Lord, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works ; and that my soul knoweth right well,' Ps. cxxxix. 14. Stay, and wonder at the wonderful wisdom of God!

First, To create so little a piece of flesh, and to put such vigour into it: to give it neither bones nor nerves, yet to make it stronger than aiTns and legs, and those most able and serviceable parts of the body. So that as Paul saith, ' On those members of the body, which we think less honourable, we bestow more abundant honour : and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness,' 1 Cor. xii. 23. So on this little weak member hath the Lord conferred the greatest strength; and as feeble as it is, we find it both more necessary and more honoui'able.

Secondly, Because it is so forcible, therefore hath the most wise God ordained that it shall be but little, that it shall be but one. That so the parvity and singularity may abate the vigour of it. If it were paired, as the arms, legs, hands, feet, it would be much more unruly. For he that cannot tame one tongue, how would he be troubled with twain ! But so hath the Ordinator provided, that things of the fiercest and firiest nature should be Uttle, that the malice of them might be somewhat restrained.

Thirdly, Because it is so unruly, the Lord hath hedged it in, as a man will not trust a wild horse in an open pasture, but prison him in a close pound. A double fence hath the Creator given to confine it, the lips and the teeth; that through these mounds it might not break. And hence a threefold instruction for the use of the tongue is insinuated to us.

First; Let us not dare to pull up God's mounds; nor, hke wild beasts, break through the circular hmits wherein he hath cooped us. * Look that thou hedge thy possession about with thorns, and bind up thy silver and gold,' Ecclus. xxviii. 24. What, doth the wise man intend to give us some thrifty counsel, and spend his ink in the rule of good husbandly, which every worldling can teach himself? No. Yes; he exhorteth us to the best husbandly, how to guide and guard our tongues, and to thrive in the good use of speech. Therefore declares himself: ' Weigh thy words in a balance, and make a door and bar for thy mouth.' Let this be the possession thou so hedgest in, and thy precious gold thou so bindest up. ' Beware thou slide not by it, lest thou fall before him that lieth in wait.' Commit not bm'glary, by breaking the doors, and pulhng down the bars of thy mouth.

Much more, when the Lord hath hung a lock on it, do not pick it with a false key. Rather pray with David, ' 0 Lord, open thou my lips, and my mouth shall shew forth thy praise,' Ps. li. 15. It is absurd in building, to make the porch bigger than the house; it is as monstrous in nature, when a man's words are too many, too mighty. Every man mocks such a gaping boaster with Quidferet hie dignum tanto promissor hiatu? Saint Bernard gives us excellent counsel. Sint tua verba rara, contra muUilgquium; vera, contra falsiloqicium; j^onderosa, contra vaniloquium. Let thy words be few, true, weighty, that thou mayest not speak much, not falsely, not vainly. Remember the bounds, and keep the no7i ultra.

Secondly ; Since God hath made the tongue one, have not thou ' a tongue and a tongue.' Some are double-tongued, as they are do^bl^-hearted.

i

But God bath given one tongue, one heart, that they might be one indeed, as they are in number. It is made simple; let it not be double. God hath made us men; we make ourselves monsters. Ho hath given us two eyes, two ears, two hands, two feet. Of all these we will have, or at least use, but one. We have one eye to pry into others' faults, not another to see our own. We have one eai* to hear the plaintiff, not the other for the defendant. We have a foot swift to enter forbidden paths, not another to lead us to God's holy place. Wo have one hand to extort, and scrape, and wound, and not another to relieve, give alms, heal the wounded. But now whereas God hath given us but one tongue and one heart, and bidden us be content with their singularity, we will have two tongues, two hearts. Thus cross are we to God, to nature, to grace; monstrous men; monoculi, monojwdcs: bicordes,hilin{jnes: one-eyed, one-footed; double-tongued,double-hearted. The slanderer, the flatterer, the swearer, the tale-bearer, are monstrous (I dare scarce add) men: as misshapen stigmatics as if they had two tongues and but one eye; two heads and but one foot.

"Thirdly; This con-sinceth them of preposterous folly, that put all their mahce into their tongue, as the sei-pent all her poison in her tail; and, as it were by a chemical power, attract all vigour thither, to the weakening and enervation of the other parts. Their hands have chirogram; they cannot stretch them forth to the poor, nor give relief to the needy. Their feet podagram; they cannot go to the chm-ch. Their eyes ophthabniam; they cannot behold the miserable and pity-needing. Their ears surditatem; they cannot hear the gospel preached. Oh how defective and sick all these members are! But their tongues ai'e in health; there is blithcness and volubility in them. If they see a distressed man, they can give him talkative comfort enough; ' Be wanned, be filled, be satisfied,' Jam. ii. 16. They can fill him with Scripture sentences, but they send him away with a hungry stomach; whereas the good man's hand is as ready to give, as his tongue to speak. But the fool's lips babbleth foolishness; volat irrevocabile verbum. Words run like Asahel; but good works, like the cripple, come lagging after.

2. We see the natm-e of the thing to be tamed, the tongue; let us consider the difiiculty of this entei-prise. No man can do it. Which we shall best find, if we compare it (1.) with other members of the body; (2.) with other creatures of the world.

(1.) With other members of the body, which are various in theii* faculties and ofiices; none of them idle.

[1.] The eye sees far, and beholdeth the creatures in cccJo, solo, sola: in the heavens, sun, and stars; on the earth, birds, beasts, plants, and minerals; in the sea, fishes and serpents. That it is an unraly member, let our gi-andmother speak, whose roving eye lost us all. Let Dinah speak; her wandering eye lost her virginity, caused the eft'usion of much blood. Let the Jews speak concerning the daughters of Midian; what a fearful apostasy the eye procured! Yea, let Da\'id acknowledge, whose petulant eye robbed Uriah of his wife and life, the land of a good soldier, his own heart of much peace. Yet this eye, as unraly as it is, hath been tamed. Did not Job ' make a covenant with his eyes, that he would not look upon a maid?' Job xxxi. 1. The eye hath been tamed; 'but the tongue can no man tame; it is an unraly evil.'

[2.] The ear yet hears more than ever the eye saw; and by reason of its patulous admission, dei-ivcs that to the understanding whereof the sight

never had a glance. It can listen to the whisperings of a Doeg, to the susurrations of a devil, to the noise of a Siren, to the voice of a Delilah. The parasite through this window creeps into the great man's favour; he tunes his warbling notes to an enlarged ear. It is a wild member, an instrument that Satan delights to play upon. As unruly as it is, yet it hath been tamed. Mary sat at the feet of Christ, and heard him preach with glad attention. The ear hath been tamed; * but the tongue can no man tame,' &c.

[3.] The foot is an unhappy member, and carries a man to much wickedness. It is often swift to the shedding of blood; and runneth away from Grod, Jonah's pace; flying to Tarshish, when it is bound for Nineveh. There is ' a foot of pride,' Ps. xxxvi. 11, a saucy foot, that dares presumptuously enter upon God's freehold. There is a foot of rebellion, that with an apostate mahce kicks at God. There is a dancing foot, that paceth the measures of circular wickedness. Yet, as unruly as this foot is, it hath been tamed. David got the victory over it. ' I considered my ways, and turned my foot unto thy testimonies,' Ps. cxix. 59. The foot hath been tamed; ' but the tongue can no man tame,' &c.

[4.] The hand rageth and rangeth with violence, to take the bread it never sweat for, to enclose fields, to depopulate towns, to lay waste whole countries. ' They covet fields, and houses, and vineyards, and take them, because their hand hath power,' Mic. ii. 2. There is a hand of extortion, as Ahab's was to Naboth; the greedy landlord's to the poor tenant. There is a hand of fraud and of legerdemain, as the usurer's to the distressed borrower. There is a hand of bribery, as Judas, with his quantum dabitis, what will you give me to betray the Lord of life ? There is a hand rf lust, as Amnon's to an incestuous rape. There is a hand of murder, as Joab's to Abner, or Absalom's to Amnon. Oh, how unruly hath this member been! Yet it hath been tamed; not by washing it in Pilate's basin, but in David's holy water, innocence. ' I will wash my hands in innocency, and then, 0 Lord, will I compass thine altar.' Hereupon he is bold to say, ' Lord, look if there be any iniquity in my hands,' Ps. vii. 3. God did repudiate all the Jews' sacrifices, because their hands were ftdl of blood, Isa. i. 15. David's hands had been besmeared with the aspersions of lust and blood, but he had penitently bathed them in his own tears; and because that could not get out the stains, he faithfully rinseth and cleanseth them in his Son's and Saviour's fountain, the all-meritorious blood of Christ. This made them look white, whiter than lilies in God's sight. ' Therefore hath the Lord recompensed me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands in his eyesight,' Ps. xviii. 24.

Thus the eye, the ear, the foot, the hand, though wild and unruly enough, have been tamed; ' but the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil,' &c.

(2.) With other creatures of the world, whether we find them in the earth, air, or water.

[1.] On the earth there is the man-hating tiger, yet man hath subdued him ; and (they write) a little boy hath led him in a string. There is the flock-devouring wolf, that stands at grinning defiance with the shepherd; mad to have his prey, or lose himself; yet he hath been tamed. The roaring lion, whose voice is a terror to man, by man hath been subdued. Yea serpents, that have to their strength two shrewd additions, subtlety and malice; that carry venom in their mouths, or a sting in their tails, or

are all over poisonous; tlio very basilisk, that kills witli his 03'cs (as they write) three furlongs off. Yea, all these savage, furious, malicious natures have been tamed; ' but the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil,' &c.

[2.] In the sea there bo gi-eat wonders. ' They that go down to tho sea in ships, that do business in great waters; these see the works of tho Lord, and his wonders in the deep,' Ps. cvii. 23, 21. Yet those natural wonders have been tamed by our artificial wonders, ships. Even the leviathan himself, ' out of whoso mouth go burning lamps and sparks of fire. Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a boiling caldron,' Job xli. 19, 20. Sqiicima sqiimiia; coiijwuj'dnr: 'the flakes of his flesh are joined together; they are finn in themselves, and cannot be moved.' Yet we know that this huge creatui-e hath been tamed; ' but the tongue can no man tame,' &c.

[3.] In the air, the birds fly high above our reach, yet we have gins to fetch them down. A lure stops the highest-soaring hawk; nay, art makes one fowl catch another, for man's delight and benefit; incredible things, if they were not ordinaiy. Snares, lime-twigs, nets, tame them all; even the peUcan in the desert, and the eagle amongst the cedars. Thus saith our apostle, verses 7, 8 : ' Eveiy kind' (not every one of eveiy kind, but every kind of nature of all), ' of beasts, of birds, of sei-pents, and of things in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of the natm-e of man; ' but the tongue can no man tame,' &c.

Thus far, then, St James's proposition passeth without opposition. ' The tongue can no man tame;' the tongue is too wild for any man's taming. It would be a foolish exception (and yet there are such profane tongues to speak it), that woman stands without this compass and latitude; and to infer, that though no man can tame the tongue, yet a woman m.^y. It is most unworthy of answer. Woman, for the most part, hath tho glibbest tongue; and if ever this impossibility preclude men, it shall nuich more annihilate the power of the weaker sex. ' She is loud,' saith Solomon, Prov. vii. 11; 'a foolish woman is ever clamorous,' ix. 13. She calls her tongiie her defensive weapon; she means ofl'eusive: a fii-ebrand in a frantic hand doth less mischief. The proverb came not from nothing, when we say of a brawling man. He hath a woman's tongue in his head.

' The tongue can no man tame.' Let us listen to some weightier exceptions. The prophets spake the oracles of life, and the apostles the words of salvation; and many men's speech ministers gi-ace to the hearers. Yield it; yet this general rule will have no exceptions: 'no man can tame it:' man hath no stern-'- for this ship, no bridle for this colt. How then ? God tamed it. We by nature stammer as Moses, till God open a door of utterance. * I am of unclean lips,' saith the prophet, ' and dwell with a people of unclean lips,' Isa. vi. 5. God must lay a coal of his own altar upon our tongues, or they cannot be tamed.

And when they are tamed, yet they often have an unruly trick. Abraham lies; Moses murmurs; Elias, for fear of a queen and a quean, wisheth to die. Jonah frets for the gourd; David cries in his heart,! * AH men are bars;' which speech rebounded even on God himself, as if the Lord by Samuel had deceived him. Peter forswears his Master, his Saviour. If the tongues of the just have thus tripped, how should the profane go upright ? * The tongue can no man tame.'

The instruction hence riseth in full strength; that God only can tame

♦ Qu. ' helm?'— Ed. t Q"- ' taste ?' or ' heat ?'— Ed.

TOI.. Ill B

man's tongue. Now the principal actions hereof are, first, to open the mouth, when it should not be shut; secondly, to shut it, when it should not be open.

First, To open our lips when they should speak is the sole work of God. * 0 Lord, open thou my lips, and then my mouth shall be able to shew forth thy praise,' Ps. H. 15. God must open Avith his golden key of grace, or else our tongues will arrogate a hcentious passage. We had better hold our peace, and let our tongues he still, than set them a-running till God bids them go. God commands every sinner to confess his iniquities ; this charge, David knew, concerned himself; yet was David silent, and then his 'bones waxed old' with anguish, Ps. xxxii. 3. His adulteiy cried, his murder cried, his ingratitude cried for revenge; but still David was mute ; and so long, ' day and night, the hand of the Lord was heavy upon him.' But at last God stopped the mouth of his clamorous adversaries, and gave him leave to speak. ' I acknowledged my sin vmto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord, and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.' It is Christ that must cast out this devil. The Lord is the best opener. He did open Lydia's heart, to conceive, Acts xvi. 14. He did open Elisha's seiTant's eyes to see, 2 Engs vi. 17. He did open the prophet's ears to hear, Isa. 1. 5. He did open Paul's mouth to speak, Col. iv. 3.

Secondhj, To shut our lips "when they should not speak, is only the Lord's work also. It is Christ that casts out the talking devil; he shuts the wicket of our mouth against unsavouiy speeches. We may think it a high oiSce (and worthy even David's ambition) to be a ' door-keeper in God's house' Ps. Ixxxiv. 10, when God vouchsafes to be a door-keeper in our house.

Thus all is from God. Man is but a lock; God's Spirit the key ' that openeth, and no man shutteth; that shutteth, and no man openeth,' Rev. iii. 7. He opens, and no man shuts. I must speak though I die, saith Jeremiah ; ' his word is like fire in my bones,' Jer. xx. 9; and will make me weaiy of forbearing. He shuts, and no man opens; so Zacharias goes dumb from the altar, and could not speak, Luke i. 22.

Away, then, with arrogation of works, if not of words. When a man hath a good thought, it is gratia infusa; when a good work, it is gratia dif-fma. If then man cannot produce words to praise God, much less can he procure his works to please God. If he cannot tune his tongue, he can never turn his heart. Two useful benefits may be made hereof.

First, It is taught us, whither we have recom'se to tame our tongues. He that gave man a tongue, can tame the tongue. He that gave man a tongue to speak, can give him a tongue to speak well. He that placed that unruly member in his mouth, can give him a mouth to rale it. He can give psalms for carols ; the songs of Zion for the ballads of hell. Man hath no bridle, no cage of brass, nor bars of iron to tame it; God can. Let us move oiu- tongues to entreat help for our tongues ; and, according to their office, let us set them on work to speak for themselves.

Secondl}', We must not be idle ourselves; the difiiculty must spur us to more earnest contention. As thou wouldst keep thy house from thieves, thy ganneuts from moths, thy gold from rast, so carefully preserve thy tongue from unruliness. As ' the Lord doth set a watch before thy mouth, and keep the door of thy lips,' Ps. cxli. 3; so thou must also be vigilant thyself, and not tui-n over thy own heart to security. * How can ye, being evil, speak good things ? for out of the abundance of the heart'

the mouth speaketh,' ]\Iatt. xii. 84. Look how far the heart is good, so far the tonrjue. If the heart beheve, the tongue will confess; if the heart be meek, the tongue will be gentle; if the heart be angiy, the tongue will be bitter. The tongue is but the hand without, to shew how the clock goes within. A vain tongue discovers a vain heart. But some have words soft as butter, when their heai'ts are keen swords; be they never so well traded in the art of dissembling, some time or other the tongue, Judas-like, will betray its master; it will mistake the heart's errand, and, with stumbling forgetfulness, trip at the door of truth. * The heart of fools is in then- mouth: but the mouth of the wise is in their heart,' Eccles. xxi. 26. To avoid ill communication, hate ill cogitation: a polluted heart makes a foul mouth; therefore one day, ex ore tuo, ' out of thine o^\ti mouth, will God condemn thee.'

II. 1. It is ' an umiily evil.'—The difficulty of taming the tongue, one would think, were sufficiently expi-essed in the e\il of it; but the apostle seconds it vrith. another obstacle, signifying the wild nature of it, unnily. It is not only an e\dl, but an unnily evil. I will set the champion and his second together in this fight, and then shew the hardness of the combat.

Bernard saith. Lingua facile volat, et ideo facile riolat: The tongue runs quickly, therefore wrongs quickly. Speedy is the pace it goes, and therefore speedy is the mischief it does. WTien all other members are dull with age, the tongue alone is quick and nimble. It is an um'uly evil to om'selves, to our neighbom-s, to the whole world.*

(1.) To om'selves ; verse G, ' it is so placed among the members, that it defileth all.' Though it were evil as the plague, and umnly as the possessed Gergesene (Matth. viii.), yet if set off with distance, the evil rests within itself. A leper shut up in a pesthouse rankleth to himself, infects not others. A wUd cannibal in a prison may only exercise his savage cnielty upon the stone walls or iron gi-ates. But the tongue is so placed, that being evil and um-uly, it hiu-ts aU the members.

(2.) To our neighbours. There are some sins that hurt not the doer only, but many sufferers. These are districtly the sins of the tongue and the hand. There are other sins, private and domestical, the sting and smart whereof dies in the ovra soul; and without ferther extent, plagues only the own soul; and without fiirther extent, plagues only the person of the committer. So the lavish is called no man's foe but his own; the proud is guilty of his own vanity; the slothful bears his own reproach; and the malicious wasteth the marrow of his own bones, whiles his envied object shines in happiness. Though perhaps these sins insensibly wrong the commonwealth, yet the principal and immediate blow Hghts on themselves. But some iniquities are swords to the countiy, as oppression, rapine, circumvention ; some incendiaries to the whole land, as e\'il and umiily tongues.

(3.) To the whole world. If the vastate ruins of ancient monmnents, if the depopulation of comitries, if the consuming fii-es of contention, if the land manured with blood, had a tongue to speak, they would all accuse the tongue for the original cause of their woe. Slaughter is a lamp, and blood the oil; and this is set on fire b}' the tongue.

You see the latitude and extension of this unruly enl, more umiily than the hand. Slaughters, massacres, oppressions, are done by the hand; the tongue doth more. Parcit manus abscnti, liufjua nemini: The hand spares to hm-t the absent, the tongue hurts all. One may avoid the sword by

* Erasm.

running from it; not tlie tongue, though he run to the Indies. The hand reacheth but a small compass; the tongue goes through the world, If a man wore coat of armour, or mail of brass, jei penetrahunt spicula lingnce: the darts of the tongue will pierce it.

It is evil, and doth much harm ; it is unruly, and doth sudden harm. You will say, Man}'-wicked men have often very silent tongues. True; they know their times and places, when and where to seem mute. But Jeremiah compounds the wisdom and folly of the Jews : that * they were wise to do e"vdl, but to do good they had no understanding,' Jer. iv. 22. So I may say of these, they have tongue enough to speak evil, but are dumb when they should speak well.

Om* Saviour, in the days of his flesh on earth, was often troubled with dumb devils (Luke xi. 14); but now he is as much troubled with roaring devils. With the fawning sycophant, a prattling devil; with the malicious slanderer, a brawling devil; with the unquiet peace-hater, a scolding devil; with the avarous and ill-conscious lawv^er, a wi'angling devil; with the factious schismatic, a gaping devil; with the swaggering ruffian, a roaring de^vil. All whom Christ by his ministers doth conjm-e, as he once did that crying devil, ' Hold thy peace and come out.' These are silent enough to praise God, but loud as the cataracts of Nilus to applaud vanity. David, said of himself, that ' when he held his peace, yet he roared all the day long,' Psa. xxxii. 3. Strange ! be silent, and yet roar too, at once ! Gregory answers: He that daily commits new sins, and doth not penitently confess his old, roars much, yet holds his tongue. The father pricked the pleurisy-vein of our times. For we have many roarers, but dumb roarers. Though they can make a hellish noise in a tavern, and swear down the devil himself; yet to praise God, they are as mute as fishes.

Saint James here calls it fire. Now you know fire is an ill master ; but this is unruly fire. Nay, he calls it' the fire of hell,' blown with the bellows of mahce, kindled with the breath of the devil. Nay, Stella hath a conceit, that it is worse than the fire of hell; for that torments only the wicked ; this all, both good and bad. For it is flabellum invidi, andJiagellum justi. Swearers, railers, scolds, have hell-fire in their tongues.

This would seem incredible ; but that God saith it is true. Such are hellish people, that spit abroad the flames of the devil. It is a cursed mouth that spits fire ; how should we avoid those, as men of hell! Many are afraid of hell-fire, yet nourish it in their own tongues. By this kind of language, a man may know who is of hell. There are three sorts of languages observed : celestial, terrestrial, and infernal. The heavenly language is spoken by the saints. * Blessed are they that dwell in thy house : they will be still praising thee,' Psa. Ixxxiv. 4. Their discom^se is habituated, like their course or conversation, which Paul saith is heavenly, Phil. iii. 20. The earthly tongue is spoken of worldlings : ' He that is of the earth is earthly; and speaketh of the earth,' John iii. 31. Worldly talk is for worldly men. The infernal language is spoken by men of hell; such as have been taught by the devil: they speak like men of Behal. Now, as the countryman is known by his language, and as the damsel told Peter, ' Sure thou art of Galilee, for thy speech bewi'aycth thee ;' so by this rule you may know heavenly men by their gracious conference ; earthly men by their worldly talk; and hellish, by the language of the low countries— swearing, cursing, blasphemy.

Well therefore did the apostle call this tongue a fii'e; and such a fire as sets the whole world in combustion. Let these unruly tongues take heed

lest by their roarings they shake the battlements of heaven, and so waken an incensed God to judgment. There is a ' curse that goeth forth, and it shall enter into the house of the swearer,' and not only cut him off, but 'consume his house, with the timber and the stones of it,' Zech. v. 4. It was the prophet Jeremiah's complaint, that ' for oaths the laud mourned,' Jar. xxiii. 10. No manel if God curse us for om* cursings; and if the plague light upon our bodies, that have so hotly trolled it in om- tongues; no wonder if we have blistered carcases, that have so blistered consciences ; and the stench of contagion punish us for om- stinking breaths. Our tongues must walk, till the hand of God walk against us.

2. 'Full of deadly poison.'—Poison is homhii iniinicum; loathsomely contraiy to man's nature; but there is a poison not mortal, the venom whereof may be expelled; that is ' deadly poison.' Yet if there was but a little of this resident in the wicked tongue, the danger were less; nay, it is full of it, ' full of deadly poison.'

Tell a blasphemer this, tliat he vomits bell fu'e, and carries deadly poison in his mouth ; and he will laugh at thee. Beloved, we preach not this of our own heads; we have our infaUible warrant. God speaks it. ' The poison of asps is under their lips,' saith the psalmist, Psa. cxl. 3. It is a loathsome thing to carry poison in one's mouth ; we would fly that serpent, yet yield to converse with that man. A strangely hated thing in a beast, yet customable in many men's tongues. Whom poison they? First, Themselves ; they have speckled souls. Secondly, They sputter their venom abroad, and bespurtle others ; no beast can cast his poison so far. Thirdly, Yea they would (and no thanks to them that they cannot) poison God's most sacred and feared name. Let us judge of these things, not as flesh and blood imagineth, but as God pronounceth.

It is observable that which way soever a wicked man useth his tongue, he cannot use it well. Mordet dctrahcndo, Ibujit adulando: He bites by detraction, licks by flattery; and either of these touches rankle ; he doth no less hmi by licking than by biting. All the parts of his mouth are instruments of wickedness. Logicians, in the ditiereuce betwixt vocem and soniim, say that a voice is made by the lips, teeth, throat, tongue.

The psalmogi-apher on every one of these hath set a brand of wickedness. 1. The lips are labia dolosa; ' lying lips,' Psa. cxx. 2. 2. The teeth are frementcs, frendentes; 'gnashing teeth.' 3. The tongue Unf/iia mcndax, Imgua mordax: 'What shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue?' ver. 3. 4. The ihxoai lyatens sepukhnim: ' Their tlu'oat is an open sepulchi'e,' Rom. iii. 13. This is a monstrous and fearful mouth; where the porter, the porch, the entertainer, the receiver, are all vicious. The lips are the porter, and that is fraud; the porch, the teeth, and there is malice ; the entertainer, the tongue, and there is lying; the receiver, the throat, and there is devouring.

I cannot omit the moral of that old fable. Three children call one man father, who brought them up. Dying, he bequeaths all his estate only to one of them, as his true natural son; but which that one was, left uncertain. Hereupon eveiy one claims it. The wise magistrate, for speedy decision of so gieat an ambiguity, causeth the dead father to be set up as a mark, promising the challengers, that which of them could shoot next his heart, should enjoy the patrimony. The elder shoots, so doth the second; both hit. But when it came to the younger's turn, he utterly refused to shoot; good nature would not let him wound that man dead, that bred and fed him living. Therefore the judge gave all to this son, reputing the for-

mer bastards. The scope of it is plain, but significant. God will never give them the legacy of glory, given by his Son's will to children, that like bastards shoot through, and wound his blessed name. Think of this, ye swearing and cursing tongues !

To conclude, God shall punish such tongues in their own kind; they were fall of poison, and the poison of another stench shall swell them. They have been inflamed, and shall be tormented, with the fire of hell. Burning shall be added to burning; save that the first was active, this passive. The rich glutton, that when his belly was fall could loose his tongue to blasphemy, wanted water to cool his tongue. His tongue sinned, his tongue smarted. Though his toiTQent was universal, yet he complains of his tongue. That panted, that smoked, that reeked with sulphur and brimstone : that bums with the flame of heU dead, that burned with it living. For a former tune of sin, it hath a present tone of woe. It scalded, and is scalded ; as it cast abroad the flames of hell in this world, so all the flames of hell shall be cast on it in the world to come. It hath fired, and shall be fired with such fire as is not to be quenched. But blessed is the sanctified tongue. God doth now choose it as an instrument of music to sing his praise ;• he doth water it with the saving dews of his mercy, and will at last advance it to glory.

TEE SOUL'S EEFUGE.

' Let them that suffer according to the uill of God commit the Jceepinf) of their soids to him in uell doing, as unto a faithful Creator.' —1 Pet. IV. 19.

A TEUE Chiistian's life is one day of tlii-ee meals, and every meal liatli in it two courses. His first meal is, Nasci et renasci; to be born a sinner, and to be new born a saint. ' I was born in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me; ' there is one course. ' Except a man be bom again, be cannot see the kingdom of God;' there is the other coiu'se. His second meal is, Bene acjerc, ct male pati; to do well, and to suffer ill. ' Do good unto all, but especially unto those that are of the household of faith;' there is one course of doing. ' All that live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution;' there is the other course of suffering. His third meal is, Mori et vivere; to die a temporal death, to live an eternal life.

The first is liis breakfast, and herein he is natui'ally natus et damnatus, bom in sin and condemned for sin; spiritually rcnatus et justificatus, bom again in righteousness and justified from sin. The last is his supper, wherein there is one bitter dish, death. StatuUim est omnibus scmcl viori, 'It is appointed to all men to die once;' omnibus semcl, 2)lerisque bis, to all once, to many twice; for there is a 'second death.' And that is truly a death, because it is mors vita;, the death of life: the other rather a Ufe, for it is mors mortis, the death of death; after which mors non erit ultra, 'there shall be no more death.' Therefore rise, that you may not fall; rise nov by a righteous life, lest you fall into an everlasting death. If the soul will not now rise, the body shall one day be raised, and go with the soul to judgment. The second com-se is incomparably sweet; vivere j)ost mortem, to live after death. I say after death, for a man must die that he may live. So that a good supper brings a good sleep; he that lives well shall sleep well. He that now apprehends mercy, mercy shall hereafter comprehend him. Mercy is the tdtimus terminus, no hope beyond it; and this is the time for it, the next is of justice. The middle meal between both these is our dinner; and that consists jmtiendo malum and. faciendo bonum, in doing good and suffering evil. And on these two courses my text spends itself. Fii'st, ' they that suffer according to the will of God; * there is the passion. Secondly, they may ' trust God with their souls in well doing;' there is the action.

More particularly, in the words we may consider five gradual circumstances.

1. The sufferance of the saints, ' They that suffer.'

2. The integrity of this sufferance, ' According to the will of God.' ^

3. The comfort of this integrity, ' May commit their souls to God.*

4. The boldness of this comfort, ' As unto a faithful Creator.'

5. The caution of this boldness, ' In well doing.'

1. The sufferance of the saints, ' They that suffer.' All men suffer: ' Man is born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward,' Job v. 7. This life is well compared to a throng in a narrow passage: he that is first out finds ease, he that is in the midst is in the worst place and case, for he is hemmed in with troubles; the hindmost drives out both the former, and if he have not the greatest part in suffering evil, lightly he hath the greatest share in doing it. Outward things happen alike to good and bad. * There is one event to the clean and to the unclean; to him that sacrificeth, and to him that sacrificeth not; to him that sweareth, and to him that feareth an oath,* Eccles. ix. 2. They are both travellers in the thoroughfare of this world, both lodge in one inn, both have the same provision; perhaps the wicked have the better cheer, but in the morning their ways part. There are common e\ils, as there are common goods. Poverty, sickness, death spares not the greatest; health, wealth, prosperity is not denied to the meanest. All have three mansions:—(1.) This earth; there (as in Noah's ark) are the clean and unclean, righteous and wicked, promiscuously confused. (2.) The grave; this is a common house, a very pesthouse, where all lie together under the surgery of death. It is a cheap and universal house; we pay no rent for it. (3.) But after all are come to this place, there is then a way of parting.

' Est locus bio partes ubi se via findit in ambas.'

Some go to hell, others to heaven. ' They shall come forth, they that have done good, mito the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, imto the resurrection of damnation,' John v. 29; some to immortal honour, others to immortal horror.

God gives not all outward prosperity to the wicked, lest they should ascribe it to their own wits or worths, lest they should ' sacrifice to their net, and burn incense to their drag,' Hab. i. 16; nor all afiiiction to the good, lest they should fall to some sinister and unv/arrantable courses: ' The rod of the wicked shall not rest upon the lot of the righteous, lest the righteous put forth their hands to iniquity,' Ps. cxxv. 3. There is a mixture of good and evil; prosperity and adversity have their vicissitudes. Prcesentis vitce nee prosperitas innocentiam testatnr, nee acerhitas miseram anbnam indlcatJ- Neither do the crosses of this world mtness a man's guiltiness, nor the blessings of the world his innocence. But the good have a larger share in sufferings than the reprobates. Impiiis non per-cutitur nisi a domino, nos ab impiis. None strikes the wicked but God, but all the wicked strike and vex us. This world, Hke the earth, is a mere stepdame to good herbs, an own mother to weeds. No marvel if she starves us; all is too little for her own children. Omnespatiunturplurima, quidam fere omnia. All suffer many kinds of miseries; many suffer all kinds of miseries.

Christianum est pati; it is the part of a Christian to suffer. Wheresoever he is let him expect it. Adam was set upon in Paradise, Job in the

* Greg.

dunghill: Jo}> fortinr in stcrcorc, quCiin Adam in Paradiao. Jdb was more Btroug to resist temptatious in the miserable dust than was Adam in that glorious garden. The Jews were connnanded to cat sour herbs with their sweet passovcr. Bitterness ever treads on the heels of pleasure. Jacob hath a son and loseth his wife; Benjamin is bora, Rachel dies. Our Lady, coming from that great feast, lost her son Jesus three days, Luke ii. 45. Seven days she had eaten ' sweet bread;' here followed three days* sour bread for it. Good things are to be taken with much thankfulness, evil with much patience.

Let this teach us two duties. First, to prepare for evils before they come; next, to make them welcome when they are come. So they shall neither meet us with fear, nor leave us with sorrow.

(1.) Preparation to sutler is specially necessary. Sudden crosses find weak souls secm-e, leave them miserable, make them desperate. Expectation malum leviits viordet. A looked-for evil smarts more gently. liepentina bona sunt suaviora; sed repentina mala sunt graviora. Unexpected joys are more gracious, but unexpected evils are more gi'icvous. Mischiefs come most commonly without warning.

They do not allow, as Jonas did to Nmeveh, forty daj's' respite; not so much as an hac node, 'this night,' which was allowed to the worldling: ' This night shall they fetch away thy soul fi-om thee,' Luke xii. 20. Happy man that gives himself warning: he that conceits what may be, arms himself against what must be. Thou art in health, eatest, digestest, sleepest—

' Quid si morboso jaceant tua membra cubili ?'

What if sickness shall cast thee down on thy weary couch? Though riches allow thee meat for thy stomach, what if siclmess allow thee not stomach to thy meat? How if the veiy smell, if the veiy thought, of thy best dishes should offend thee? How if, after many tossed sides and shifted places, nullo potcris requiesccie lecto.- thou couldst find no comer to give thee ease ? How couldst thou take this distemper ? Thou ai't rich; thy thi'oat tastes it, thy belly feels it, thy back wears it: how if, fi-om no fear of want, thou shouldst come to deep poverty, to care for to-morrow's provision, wth extreme sweat of brows not to cani bread enough to keep life and soul together, nakedness exposing thy body to the violence of heaven, scorching heat of the sim, cold stomis of the air? How couldst thou brook the difference between that abmidant opulency and this destitute penmy ? Thou art at homo in peace, singing in thine own vineyards; thou sittest in a shock secm-e, whilst thy reapers fell do\\-n the humble corn at thy foot and fill thy bams. "What if for religion thou shouldst be sent to exile, where thou mayest weep with Israel to thy deriding enemies, demanding a song of Ziou ? ' How shall I sing the song of joy in a strange land?' Ps. cxxxvii. 4. How canst thou digest the injuries and brook the contempt of strangers ?

These be good thoughts to pre-ai-m our souls; nothing shall make them miserable that have this preparation. Agabus told Paul, having fii-st bound his hands and feet with his gii'dle, ' Thus saith the Holy Ghost, So shaU the Jews at Jemsalem bind the man that owueth this girdle,' Acts xxi. 11. Hereupon the rest of the saints besought him with tears not to go up to Jerusalem. But observe that blessed apostle's resolved answer, Paratus sum, ' I am ready.' ' What mean ye to weep, and to break mine heart? for I am ready, not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus,' vcr. 13. The account is past, I am prepared.

Men that want this fore-resolution are like a secure city, that spends all her wealth in fiu-nishing her chambers and furbishing her streets, but lets her bulwarks fall to the ground. Here is provision for peace, none for war; something for content of friends, nothing for defence against enemies. It is usual for yoimg men with wooden wasters to learn how to play at the sharp; they are taught with foils how to deal with points. He is desperate that ventures on a single combat in the field, and was never lessoned at the fence-school. We shall be unable to fight with evils themselves, if we cannot weU encounter their shadows.

' Mischiefs are like the cockatrice's eye, If they see first they kill, foreseen they die.'

"What oui' foresight takes from their power it adds to our own; it enervates their strength and corroborates ours. For by this both they are made less able to hurt us, and we are more strong to resist them. Since, therefore, we must pass through this fiery trial, let us first prove our strength in a gentle meditation, as that martyr tried his finger in the candle before his body came to the fire.

(2.) They must be made welcome when they are come. Non ut hostes, sed ut hosjntes admittendi. They must not be entertained as enemies, but as guests. Their ' feet are beautiful that bring good tidings,' Kom. s. 15. But crosses bring good news. They assure us that we are no bastards. ' If you endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; but if you be vdthout correction, then are ye bastards,' Heb. xii. 8. Non timeas flagellari, sed exharedari* Fear not to be scom-ged, but to be disinherited. There is so much comfort in sorrow as makes all afilietion to the elect carmen in nocte,f ' a song in the night.' Adversity sends us to Christ, as the leprosy sent those ten, Luke xvii. Prosperity makes us tm-n our backs upon Christ and leave him, as health did those nine. David's sweetest songs were his lacryvKS. In misery he spared Saul, his great adversary; in peace he killed Uriah, his dear friend. The wicked sing with grasshoppers in fair weather; but the faithful (in this like sirens) can sing in a storm.

It is a question whether the sun or the wind will first make a man throw off his cloak ; but by all consent the sun will first uncloak him. Imagine by the sun the warm heat of prosperity; by the wind, the blustering cold of calamity; by the cloak, Christ's Hvery, a sincere profession. Now which of these will micase thee of thy zeal ? The boisterous wind makes a man gather his cloak closer about him; the hot, silent sun makes him weary of so heavy a burden; he soon does it off. Secure plenty is the warm sun, which causeth many to discloak themselves, and cast oft' their zeal, as it did Demas, who left Christ, to ' embrace this present world.' But the cold wind of affliction gathers it up closer to him, and teacheth him to be more zealous. When a man cannot find peace upon earth, he quickly runs to heaven to seek it.

Plutarch writes, that Antigonus had in his army a valiant soldier, but of a sickly body. Antigonus, observing his valom-, procured his physicians to take him in hand ; and he was healed. Now being sound, he began to fight in some fear, to keep himself a good distance from danger, no more venturing into the van or forlorn place of the battle. Antigonus, noting and wondering at this alteration, asked him the cause of this new cowardice. He answers, ' 0 Antigonus, thou art the cause ! Before, I ventm-ed nothing * Aug. t Greg.

but a diseased corpse, and then I chose rather to die quickly than to live sickly; I invited death to do me a kindness. Now it is otherwise with me, for I have somewhat to lose.' A poor and afilicted life makes a man bold in his religion. It is nothing to part with hunger, thirst, cold, contempt; but when prosperous fortunes flow upon him, he dares not stick so constantly to Christ. Would you have the rich merchant find fault with idolatiy, and stand to justify God's truth ? No, he hath somewhat to take to; and although he ventures much, he would be loath to be a venturer in this. Yet this somewhat is nothing in regard to what he loseth, because he will not lose his riches. Affliction sometimes makes an evil man good, always a good man better. Crosses therefore do not only challenge our patience, but even our thanks. Thy soul is sick, these are thy physic, InteU'ujat homo Dcum esse medicum: sub medicamento positus ureris, sccaris, clamas. Non audit medicus ad voluntatem, sed audit ad saiiitatem.* Understand God thy physician, he ministers to thee a bitter but wholesome potion. Thy stomach abhors it. Thou hest bound under his hand, whiles he works upon thee. Thou criest to be delivered; he hears thee not according to thy will, but according to thy weal. * We are chastened of the Lord, that we should not be condemned with the world,' 1 Cor ii. 32. Thou payest the physician of thy body though he cannot heal thee; wilt thou not thank the Physician of thy soul that hath healed thee ? The child cries for the knife, the parent knows it can but hurt him ; tliough he weep for it, he shall not have it. Such children are we, to think God doth not use us kindly unless he give us every vanity we affect. Instead of these toys that would make us wanton, God lays on us the rod of correction to make us sober. Our flesh is displeased, our soul is saved; we have no cause to complain. I come now fi.-om the sufi'erance of the saints, to

2. The integrity of that sufierance.—' According to the will of God.* We have suffered enough, except it be according to his will. The manner commends the matter. To go no further, this point is sufliciently directed by our apostle, ver. 14, ' If ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are you; for the Spirit of glory resteth upon you. But let none of you suffer as an e-vil-doer.' For, chap. ii. 19, ' This is thankworthy, if a man for conscience toward God endure grief, suffering wi-ongfully.' This our Saviour taught us : * Blessed are they that suffer persecution for righteousness' sake' [non quipatiimtur, sed quipatiuntur jnvpterjustitiam), ' for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' Non mortes, sed mores faciunt martijres. It is not the death, but the cause, that gives the honour of martyrdom.

Indeed, there is no man that sufters contrary to the will of God, but many suffer not secundum, not ' according to the will of God.' In his concealed will he allows the suflerings of the reprobates : this is his just judgment. They are smitten, but for then- faults. Moerent et merentur: they lament, and deserve to lament. When the adulterer is wounded for his lust, he cannot think himself a patient secundum beneplacitum Dei, according to the will of God. When the usurer is fetched over for his extortion, the depopulator for his inclosing, the slanderer for his Ubelling, all these suffer, but not for conscience toward God, not ' according to his will.' They only are said to suflcr according to his wHl, that suffer first innocently, then patiently.

(1.) Innocently; for the wicked suffer, ^[ali mala, sed merito. Evil men bear e\'il things, but after theu- deserts. The pope hath made many

• Aug.

saints from this kind of suffering. Straw-saints, such as Garnet was. If they be first drenched at Tiber, and after hanged at Tyburn, martijres sunt, they can be no less than martyrs. Not seldom their names are put into the Rubric; but they stand there in those red letters for nothing else but to remember their red and bloody actions. They may pretend some show of religion, as if for cause thereof they suffered; but it is not a mere, but a mixed, cause ; not for faith, but for faction ; not for truth, but for treason. It is observed, that as the physicians say, none die of an ague, nor ^vith-out an ague ; so none of them suffer from the Romish religion, nor without the Romish rehgion. Therefore as Aristides, dying of the bite of a weasel, exceedingly lamented that it was not a lion ; so these Seminaries may greatly lament that they die not for the Lion of Judah, but for the weasel of Rome. Not secundum volnntaiem Dei, but secundum voluptatem Antichristi: not according to the will of Christ, but according to the lust of Antichrist. But he can make them amends with sainting them; men shall kneel to them, pray to them, climb to heaven by the ladder of their merits. Alas ! poor saints ! the pope sends them to heaven, but how if they were in hell before ? May we not say of them, as Augustine did of Aristotle, Woe unto them, they are praised and prayed unto where they are not, and condemned where they are. Unless, as the vision was to Ormus, that among the apostles and martjnrs there was a vacant place left in heaven, which, saith he, was reserved for a priest in England called Thomas Becket; and this revelation was full twelve years before Becket died.* So except the pope can make them saints before they die, I fear his authority can do little afterwards. Yet indeed the pope is a great saint-maker, and hath helped abundance of men to heaven. For he sent them thither through the fire, for the cause of Christ; he condemned, cursed, burnt them to ashes ; and thus, spite of his teeth, he hath helped to make them martyrs and saints. For oui'selves, if we suffer any wrong of men, let us be sure we have not deserved it. Our innocence commends our suffering; for this is * according to the good will' and pleasure of God.

(2.) Patiently ; a mm-muring mind evacuates the virtue of thy sufferings. * For what glory is it, if when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently ? but if when ye do well, and sufier for it, ye then take it patiently, this is acceptable to God,' 1 Pet. ii. 20. Let me therefore help your patience by two considerations.

First, What Christ our Head suffered for us; bitter words, and more bitter wounds. Observe him ; ' Look to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith ; who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, and despised the shame,' Heb. xii. 2. So let us run with patience the race that is set before us. If we cannot endure an angiy word fi-om our brother's mouth, how would we suffer boiling lead, and broiling coals, as the martyrs did ? How to be crucified as our Lord Jesus was ? What would we do then ? Shew me now one dram of this patience. Among gallants a word and a blow; among civil men a word and a wt. The back of patience can bear no load. But ' ought not Christ first to suffer these things, and then to enter into his glory ?' Luke xxiv. 24. First he was crowned with thoms, and then crowned with honours. Caput spinosum in terris, si sit (iloriosum in ccclis: That head must first wear a wreath of sorrow on earth, that shall wear a wreath of joy in heaven. ' Hereunto are we called: because Christ suffered for us, leaving us an example, that we should follow in his steps,' 1 Pet. ii. 21.

* Martyrol.

Secondhj, That all this Is ' according to the \\ill of God.' Onr blows come, at least mediately, from the hand of God. And this hand is guided with providence, and tempered with love. Distressed worldlings cry out, It was my own folly that ran me into this danger, or the malice of mine enemy undid me, or surfeit on such meat made me sick. So the cur bites the stone, which could never have hurt him but from the hand that threw it. Look up to the first mover, 0 madman, and discharge the means. The instrument may be unjust in thy wrongs, but the cause is just from him that inHicted it. What rod soever beats thee, consider it ' according to the will of God,' and bo patient. His hand sets theirs on work: I hope thou wilt not dispute with thy Maker. The medicine of thy passion is composed by God himself; no evils nor devils shall put in one dram more than his allowance; no man or angel can abate one scmple. The impatient man wants either wisdom or obedience. Wisdom, if he be ignorant from whom his crosses come; obedience, if he knows it, and is not patient. This is the integi'ity of the suflering ; now follows

3. The comfort of this integi'ity.—' Let him commit the keeping of his soul to God.' Eveiy man cannot with this confidence; but qui patitur propter Deitm, rccurrit ad Deum. He that suficrs for Christ's testimony, is confident of God's mercy. ' Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find gi'ace to help in time of need,' Heb. iv. IG. Here let us observe three circumstances, Quis, Quid, Cut: who, what, to whom.

(1.) Who ?—' They that suffer according to the will of God.' Felicity tLinks it hath no need of God. But God is more dainty of spiritual comforts than to give them to such as are confident in worldly comforts. The balm of the Spirit shall not be sophisticated or mixed veneno mioidi, with the poison of the world. ' Give strong di-ink to the hea-\y,' saith Solomon. God will not give his consolations to those that are drunk with prosperity, mad-men-y with this world ; but his wine to the heavy heart. He will * comfort them that mourn,' Isa. Ixi. 2. ' Let them that suffer commit,' &c.

(2.) '\\1iat ?—The soul, and the keeping thereof. The soul is a very precious thing; it had need of a good keeper. ' For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?' Matt. xvi. 26. We trust the law^'er to keep our inheritance, the physician to keep our body, the coffer to keep our money, shephei'ds to keep om- flocks ; but the soul hath need of a better keeper. Howsoever it goes with thy liberty, with thy love, with thy land, with thy life; be sm-e to look well to thy soul. That lost, all is lost.

The body is not safe where the soul is in hazard. No7i anima i^ro cor-pore, sed corpus j^ro anima factum est.* The soul is not made for the body, but the body for the soul. He that neglects the better, let him look never 80 well to the worse, shall lose both. He that looks well to the keeping of the better, though he somewhat neglect the worse, shall save both. The body is the instinmient of the soul, it acts what the other directs ; so it is the external, actual, and instimmental olTender: Satan will come with a Habeas corpus for it. But I am persuaded, if he take the body, he will not leave the soul behind him.

(3.) To whom ?—To God ; he is the best keeper. Adam had his salvation in his ovm hands, he could not keep it. Esau had his birthright in his own hands, he could not keep it. The prodigal had his patrimony in his own hands, he could not keep it. If our soul were left in our own • Chrja. de recuperat. laps.

hands, we could not keep it. The world is a false keeper; let the soul run to riot, he will go with it. The devil is a churlish keeper; he labours to keep the soul from salvation. The body is a brittle and inconstant keeper; eveiy siclmess opens the door, and lets it out. God only is the sui*e keeper. 'Your life is hid with Christ in God,' Col. iii. 3. This was David's confidence: ' Thou art my hiding-place; thou shalt keep me,' Ps. xxxii. 7. The jewels given to thy little children, thou wilt not trust them with, but keep them thyself. 0 Lord, keep thou our only one ; do thou ' rescue our soul from destructions, our darling from the lions,' Ps. XXXV. 17. Trust us not with om' own souls : we shall pass them away for an apple, as Adam did; for a morsel of meat, as Esau did; for the love of an harlot, as that prodigal did. Lord, do thou keep our souls !

Now, the Christian patient must commit the keeping of his soul to God, both in life and in death.

First, Living. The soul hath three places of being: in the body from the Lord ; in the Lord fr'om the body ; in the body with the Lord. The two last are refeiTed to our salvation in heaven: either in part, when the soul is glorified alone ; or totally, when both are crowned together. Now, the soul must be even here in the Lord's keeping, or else it is lost. If God let go his hold, it sinks. It came fr-om God; it returns to God; it cannot be well one moment without God. It is not in the right ubi, except the Lord be with it. It is sine sua domo, if sine sito Domino. Here be four sorts of men reprovable. They that trust not God with their souls, nor themselves, but rely it only upon other men. They that will not trust God with their souls, nor others, but only keep it themselves. They that wiU trust neither God with their souls, nor others, nor keep it themselves. They that will neither trust others with their souls, nor themselves, but only God, yet without his warrant that he wiU keep it.

First, They that trust their souls simply to the care of others : they are either papists or profane protestants. The papist trusts Antichrist with his soul; he's like to have it well kept. If masses and asses can keep it (for so the Jesuits term their secular priests), it shall not be lost. The devil fights against the soul, the pope interposeth an armoury of Agnus Dei's, sprinklings, crossings, amulets, prayers to saints. But surely if this armour were of proof, St Paul forgot himself in both these places (Eph. vi. 13; 1 Thess. V. 6), where he describes that panoply, or whole armour of God. He speaks of a plate of righteousness for the breast, shoes of 2X(tience for the feet, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit. To the Thessalonians indeed he somewhat varies the pieces of armour; but in neither place doth he mention crosses, crucifixes, aspersions, unctions, &c. Or they will trust the saints in heaven with their souls—

' Sancta virgo Dorthea, Tua nos virtute bea, Cor in nobis novum crea.'

What that prophet (Ps. li. 10) desired ef God, they—as if they were loath to trouble the Lord about it, and could have it nearer hand—beg of their St Dorothy: to ' create a new heart within them.' Such a rhyme have they to the Vii'gin Mary—

' Virgo Mater, maris stella, Fons hortorum ; Verbi cella, Ne nos pcstis aut procella, Pectatores obruant.'

But the saints are deaf, nan amlimit. They wouhl pray them to forbear such prayers ; they abhor such superstitious worship. They that were so jealous of God's honour ou earth, would be loath to rob him of it in heaven. So our carnal professors only trust the minister with their soul, as if God had imposed on him that charge, which the prophet gave to Ahab, ' Keep this man: if by any means he be missing, then shall thy life be for his hfe,' 1 Kings xx. 39. But indeed if he do his duty in admonishing : * If thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it; if he do not turn fi-om his way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul,' Ezek. xxxiii. 9.

Secondly, They that will not tnist others with their soul, but keep it themselves. They wi-ap it wann in the nest of their own presumptuous merits, as if good works should hatch it up to heaven. But the soul that is thus kept ^\^ll be lost. He that will go to heaven by his own righteousness, and climbs by no other ladder than his own just works, shall never come there. The best saints, that have had the most good works, durst not trust their souls with them. ' I know nothing by myself, yet am I not hereby justified,' 1 Cor. iv. 4. * In many things we sin all,' Jam. iii. 2. All in many things, many in all things; and the most learned papists, whatsoever they have said in their disputations, reserve this.tnith in their hearts, otherwise speaking in their deaths than they did in their hves. Now non merita viea, sed misericordia tita, not my merits, but thy mercies, 0 Lord. All our life is either unprofitable or damnable; therefore, 0 man, what remains? Nisi ut in tola vita tua deplores totam vitam tuam* but that dm-uag all thy life thou shouldest lament all thy life? Works cannot keep us, but grace. Let them boast of perfection, we cry for pardon; they for merits, we for mercies; they for justifying works of their own, we only for our sweet Sa'viour, Jesus Christ.

Thirdly, They that will neither tinist others with their soul nor keep it themselves, but either do sell it for ready money, as Esau sold his bu-th-right, and Judas sold Jesus, or pa-mi it for a good bribe, some large temptation of profit, or pleasui'e, or honour. They will not sell it outright, but mortgage it for a while, with a pm-pose (that seldom speeds) to redeem it; or lose it, walking negligently through the streets of this gi'eat city, the world, their soul is gone, and they are not aware of it; or give away their soul, as do the envious and desperate, and have nothing in lieu of it but terrors without and hoiTors within. They serve the de\irs turn for nothing.

Fourthly, They that will trust God with their soul, but have no wan-ant that God will keep it. They lay all the burden upon the shoulders of Christ, and meddle no more ^vith the matter; as if God would bring them to heaven even whilst they pm'sue the way to hell, or keep that soul from the body when the body had quite given away the soul. He never promised to save a man against his wU. As he doth save us by his Son, so he commands us ' to work up our salvation with fear and trembling,' Phil, ii. 12. He that lies still in the miry pit of his sin, and trusts to heaven for help out, without his o's\ti concumng endeavour, may hap to He there still.

Sccondlij, Dying; there is no comfort but to trust the soul with God. So David, ' Lord, into thy hands I commit my spmt,' Ps. xxxi. 5. So Stephen, ' Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,' Acts vii. 59. With these words our Lord Jesus himself gave up the ghost. It is justice to restore whence we receive. It is not presumption, but faith, to trust God with thy

* Ansclm.

spirit. The soul of the king, the soul of the beggar, all one to him. David, a king; Lazarus, a beggar: God receives both their souls. From giving up the ghost the highest is not exempted; from giving it into the hands of God the poorest is not excepted. There is no comfort like this. When riches bring aut neqnam, aiit nequicquam, either no comfort or discomfort; when thy wardrobe, furniture, junkets, wine offend thee; when thy money cannot defend thee; when thy doctors feed themselves at thy cost, cannot feed thee; when wife, children, friends stand weeping about thee; where is thy help, thy hope? All the world hath not a dram of comfort for thee. This sweetens all, ' Lord, into thy hand I commend my soul; thou hast redeemed me, 0 thou God of truth.'

Our spirit is our dearest jewel. Howl and lament if thou think thy soul is lost. But let thy faith know that is never lost which is committed to God's keeping. Spiritum emittis, non amittis. Durius seponitur, seel melius reponitur. That soul must needs pass quietly through the gates of death which is in the keeping of God. Woe were us if the Lord did not keep it for us whiles we have it, much more when we restore it. While our soul dwells in our breast it is subject to manifold miseries, to manifest sins; temptations, passions, misdeeds distemper us. In heaven it is free from all these. Let the soul be once in the hands of God, it is neither disquieted with sorrow for sin, nor with sin which is beyond all sorrow. There may be trouble in the wilderness; in the land of promise there is all peace. Then may we sing, ' Our soul is escaped as a bii-d out of the snare of the fowlers: the snare is broken, and we are escaped,' Ps. cxxiv. 7. Invadlt Satanas, evaclit Christianus. It is there above the reach of the devil. There is no evil admitted into the city of heaven to wrestle with the citizens thereof. Death is ready at hand about us, we carry deaths enow within us. We know we shall die, we know not how soon; it can never prevent us, or come too early, if our souls be in the keeping of God. Man was not so happy when God gave his soul to him as he is when he returns it to God. Give it cheerfully; and then, like a faithful Creator, that thou givest to him in short pain he will give thee back with endless joy. And so we come fitly from the comfort of our integrity, to

4. The boldness of this comfort.—' As unto a faithful Creator;' wherein our confidence is heartened by a double argument, the one drawn a maje-state, the other a misericordia: from majesty, from mercy. His greatness, a ' Creator;' his goodness, a ' faithful Creator.'

(1.) Creator; not a stranger to thee, but he that made thee. It is natural to man to love the work of his own hands. Pygmalion dotes upon the stone which himself had carved. But much more natural to love his own images, his children, the walldng pictures of himself, the divided pieces of his o^vn body. God loves us as our Creator, because his own hands have fashioned us. But creaiit et vermiculos, he also created the worms. Yield it, and, therefore, non odit vermiculos, he hates not the very worms. Creavit et diabolum, he made the devil. No; God made him an angel, he made himself a devil. God loves him nt naturam, as he is a nature; hates him ut diabohnn, as he is a corrupted nature, an evil, a devil. But we are not only his creatures, the workmanship of his hands, but his children. So Adam is called ' The son of God,' Luke iii. S8, his own image. Fecit liominem in similitudinem siiam, ' he made man after his likeness, in his image,' Gen. i. 26. We are more than opjis Dei, the mere work of God; for imnr/o Dei, the very image and similitude of God. "We may, therefore, be bold to commend om- souls to God, as ' a faithful Creator.'

83

Divers men have that for their God which uever was their Creator. , X^^^ proud man makes his honour his god, the covetous man makes his poh<i ^is god, the vohiptuous makes his belly his god. Now, whereas God Jio^ only charged in the iirst precept, ' Thou shalt have no other gods belbro me,' but added further in the next, ' Thou shalt not make to thee any imago or similitude of any thing, v.hether in heaven above, or earth beneath, or water under the earth,' Sec. These three sins seem to cross God in these three interdicted places; for the proud man hath his idol, as it were, in the air ; the covetous man hath his idol in the earth ; the drunken epicure hath his idol in the water.* Let them take their gods to themselves; let no Rachel that hath manied Jacob steal away Laban's idols. Our Creator is in heaven; boldly give thy soul to him. Who should better have it than he that made it?

(2.) The other argitment of our comfort is, that he is fidelis, a faithful Creator. He is fiiithful to thee, how imfaithful soever thou hast been to liim. He made thee good, thou madest thyself naught; he doth not there yet leave thee, as man his friend in misery, but sent his Son to redeem thee. Here was great faithfulaess. He sends his Holy Spirit into thy heart, to apply this redemption of Christ: here is gi'eat faithfulness. Thou often turnest thy back upon him, and followmg sin, leavest him; he leaves not thee. * I will not leave thee, nor forsake thee,' Heb. xiii. 5 : here is great faithfulness. He hath -pvomisod pcenitctili nmiam, crcdeiiti vita»i; to him that repenteth, pai'don; to him that believeth, salvation: here is faith-fuhiess. Now, hath he promised? he is faithful to perform it. "Wliat man or devil dares stand up to challenge God of unfaithfulness ?

This infaUibihty Christ knew, when to his Father's faithful hands he gave up the ghost. You will say, AVho might better do it ? The Son might well be confident of the Father. Not he alone : the servants have been faithful also in this emission, and fomid God as foithful in acception. So David, Stephen, &c. God is faithful, there is no distrast in him ; all the fear is in thyself. How canst thou tixist thy jewel with a stranger ? God is thy Creator, and a faithful Creator. But how if thou be an unfaithful creature ? Thou wilt frequent the doors of thy patron, piesent gifts to thy landlord, visit thy friend ; but how if to him that made thee, thou makest thyself a stranger ? How often hath God passed by thee, without thy salutation ! In the temple he hath called to thee, thy heart hath not echoed, and sent out thy voice to call upon him. There hath he charged thee, ' Seek my face;' thou hast not answered, ' Thy face, 0 Lord, I will seek.' By his Spirit he hath knocked at thy door, thou hast not opened to him. Now upon some exigent thou bequeathest thy soul to him ; upon what acquaintance ? "Will this sudden familiarity be accepted ?

It is our own ignorance, or strangeness, or unfaithfulness that hinders us. The reprobates think Chi-ist a stranger to them ; ' "VMien did we see theehvmgi-y?' &c.. Matt. xxv. 44. But indeed they are strangers to Christ, and he may well say, When did I see you visit me ? 'I was sick and in prison, and ye came not at me.' Would you have God cleave to them that leave him ? Doth a man all his life run from God, and shall God on his deathbed run to him ? No, you would not Imow me ; and therefore now, 7ion nori vos, I know not jon. But the faithful creature Icnows God a faithful Creator : • I know whom I have believed.' Thou mayest say with that good father, Effiedere anima mea, quid times ? Go forth, my soul, go forth with joy, what shouldst thou fear ? Yea it will go without bidding,

* Joann. de Combis Compcnd, lib. 5. can. GO. V(.L. liX. c

and fly clieerfully into the arms of God, whom it trusted as a faithful Crea.tor. I have served thee, believed on thee, now I come imto thee, saith liUther. ' I desu'e to be dissolved, and to be with Chi-ist, says Paul. These are not the voices of worldlings, but of saints. God will be a faithful Creator to receive and preserve their souls. I have served thee, saith man ; I have presei-ved thee, saith God. In me a-edis, ad me venis : thou believest on me, thou comest to me. Here is now the boldness of our comfort ; there is yet

5. A caution of this boldness.—' In well doing.' The wicked man may commit his soul to God's keeping, but how is he sm-e God will take the charge of it ? What should God do with a foul and polluted soul ? The soul must at last be committed to some; now he only is the receiver of it in death, that was the keeper of it in life. If Satan have always ruled it, God will not embrace it. As Jephtha said to the elders of Gilead, ' Did ye not hate me, and expel me out of my father's house ? and why are ye come imto me now, when ye are in distress T Jud. xi. 7. Did you thi'ust God out of your hearts, out of your houses, out of your barns, out of your closets ; and shall God open heaven to your souls ? They that thus commit their souls to God, God will commit their souls to Satan. It must be delivered up in jMtiendo malum, but in faciendo honum; in suffering that is evil, but in doing that is good. Otherwise if we thrust God from us, God will thrust us from him.

Thus is God even with man. They say now to the Holy One of Israel, ' Depart from us, we desire not the knowledge of thy ways,' Job. xxi. 14. Hereafter God shall say to them, ' Depart from me, I know you not,' Matt, vii. 23. Man's soul is but an inmate to the bosom, sent to lodge there for a time ; but must not take it up for a dwelling ; God is the Lord of the tenure, to him it must be surrendered. We have a soul within us, but it is not ours (and yet what is ours if our soul be not ?) ; it must be committed to God, either in evil-doing, as to a judge, or in weU-doing, as to a faithful Creator. Some live as if they had no souls ; viore helluino, like human beasts. The vicissitudes of drunkenness, whoredom, sleep, share all their time. Others live as if they should never part with their soul. Therefore repomint in midtos annos, they lay up for many years ; this was the cosmopolite's self-flattery. ' Soul be merry, thou hast much goods laid up for many years,' Luke xii. Yet others Uve as if their soul was not their own, but given them to spend at their pleasure, without ever being accountable for it.

But the good live as if their soul was God's ; to him they commend it in a sweet conversation with him. Their bodies move on earth, their souls live in heaven. To him they may boldly commend their spirits ; for they that fit their souls for God in health, shall never find the ofl'er of their deathbed refused. If a man had no soul, if a mortal one, if his own, if never to be requu'ed, he might without wonder be induced to hve sensually ; he that knows the contrary will live well, that he may die well, and commit his soul to God ' in well-doing.' Here further observe :

A man may do good, yet come short of this comfort; it is given bene facientilnis, to them that do well. It is not doing good, but doing well, that gets God to keep the soul. You have served me, says God to Israel, but after your own lusts. To serve God is doing good, but after their own lusts, is not doing well. To build a church is a good work ; yet if the foundations of it be laid in the ruins of the poor, their children come not to pray for, but curse the builder. Great and good were the works of the Pharisees,

\( f all spoiled for want of a bend. ' Except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the scribes and pharisees, j'ou cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven,' Matt. v. 20. Therefore St Paul's coimsel dhects us, ' So (not only run, but so) run that you may obtain,' 1 Cor. ix. 24. Schismatics run, but they run out of the church ; they love the truth, but not in peace. Si'i'ure people run, but they run beside the church; they love peace, but not in truth. Others follow the truth in peace, but not for the truth; Jum ij'hcnmt earn, non quarunt vpsam.* They fail in their sic, they miss this same ' well.' Prostint aliis, sibi neutiquam. They do good to others, but not well to themselves. But wo have almost lost both bonum and bene, f^'ood and well. It is an ill disjunction, that our ftxthers had so good works, ;ni(l wanted our faith ; and we have the true faith, but want theu* works. This 'weir is the very fonn of a good work; and /on?; a dot esse rei, it cannot be good without it. Let me hero take just cause to reprove two sorts of people.

(1.) Some there are that trust God with their souls, and destroy their o.vu bodies. But God will take no charge of the soul, but in well-doing. Those virgins that would kill themselves to prevent ravishments, are re-jtroved by just censure. Satitis incertum adulterium infutuw, qitam cerium humicidiitm in pnrsenti. Better an uncertain adulteiy to be endured, than a certain seli^murder to be acted. How can they hope for God's hand of mercy, that lay on themselves a hand of cruelty. Bhasis in the Maccabees, falUng upon his owti sword, and throwing himself down from the wall, yet committed himself to God's keeping, ' calling upon the Lord of life and spirit,' &c., 2 Mac. xiv. 4G. The text says twice (with httle credit to its own judgment) that it was done manfully. But it was magnd, potius qudm bene factum, done with desperate valom*; with more ventm'e than wisdom, temerity than honesty. This was that the devil left out, when he cited Bcriptm'e to Christ, Matt. iv. 6. ' In all thy ways ;' he made that a parenthesis, which was essential to the text. This the original testified, Ps. xci. 11. Custodient in viis tuis; but this was none of his ways down fi'om the pinnacle, to shew the people a tumbhng trick, and to break his neck. So the de\al labom-s to secui'e men of God's providence generally, though they be quite out of the way. He bids men be confident that God ^vlll keep their souls, howsoever they walk ; so imder colour of God's protection, he brings them to destruction. Ho tells a man of predestination, that he is sure of an eternal election to life, therefore may live at his own pleasure ; so from God's decree draws encom-agement to a secure life. He tells him of justification, that he is acquitted by the blood of Christ; so emboldens him on the back of presumption to ride post to hell: "Whereas predestination and justification are only made knoAVTi to us by ' well-doing.'

(2.) It is impossible for a man of an ill hfe, to hope that God will keep his soul. He that lives ill, and hopes well, teacheth his ignorance to deceive his wickedness, and them both to deceive his soul. ' Your iniquities have separated between you and your God,' Isa. lix. 2. But * Separate yourselves from the imclean thing, and I will receive you,'

2 Cor. vi. 17. Take away the bar, your sins; break ofi" the partition by repentance, then I will keep you, saith God. Commit your souls to the Lord's triist in well-doing, or not at all. If Christ had comedown from the pinnacle headlong, and not by the stau's, ho had neglected the way, and so been out of the compass of God's promise to keep him. It is an over-bold presumption, to charge God to keep thy soul, whilst thou dost wilfully lose

♦Aug.

it. Wilt thou clip the wings of thy soul, and then bid it fly to God ? It is all one, as if thou shouldst cut off a man's leg, and then send him on an errand. Our presumption is able to tie up God's arms, that he cannot help us. He that walks in profaneness, and commits his soul to God, is like him that thi'ows himself into a deep pit, to try whether God will help him out, and save him from drownuig. Man is timorous where he should be bold, and bold where he should be timorous.

God bids us cast our care upon him for this life. * Take no thought for your life, what you shall eat, or what you shaU drink, or wherewith you shall be clothed : your heavenly Father knows you have need of all these things,' Matt. vi. 31. Yet we dare not tiust God without a pawn ; unless we have bread, we think we shall starve. Here we fear, where we ought not. God tells us, the bread of heaven must feed our spirits; more necessary to maintain life in the soul, than is bread to preserve life in the body: we never hunger after this, yet presume we have sound souls, and trust God to keep them. Here we do not fear where we ought. We are so sottish, that we dare trust God with the soul, the more precious part, without well-domg, the means to have it saved; yet dare not trust him with our bodies, unless we can see our barns full, or at least our cupboards.

But in vain thou committest thy soul to God, except thou obeyest God. There is stiU a commandment with the promise. If thou keep not the precept, thou hast no interest in the promise. If thou wilt not perform thy part, God is discharged of his part: if thou refuse to do well, he wiU not keep thy soul. The protection of God extends not to us in lewd courses : we are then out of our M^ay, and the devU may take us up as vagabonds. * If thou do well, shalt thou not be accepted ? if thou do evil, sin lieth at the door,' Gen. iv. 7. If thou do evil, sin is thy keeper, not God. There was a temple, called the temple of trust: God will not be to them a temple of trust, that had no trust in then* temples.

It is a good thing to have God keep the soul, but the wicked cannot have this hope. He that hath money, lays it up in his coffers; or if he sends it abroad, like a stem jailor, he suffers it not to go without a keeper, sound bonds. He that hath lauds, makes strong conveyances to his desired heirs, that they may be kept. If chLldi'en, he provides to have them safely kept. He keeps his goods fi'om the thief, his chickens from the kite, his lambs fi'om the wolf, his fawn fe-om the hound, his dove from the vermin; yet he keeps not his soul fr-om the devil. 0 wretched man, that must die, and knows not what shall become of his soul. The world would have it, but he knows it must not; himself would keep it, but he knows he cannot; Satan would have it, and he knows not whether he shall; he would have God take it, and he knows not whether he wQl. 0 miserable man, that must part with his soul he knows not whither.

We see what it is to lead an evil life, and to be a stranger to God. He

* knows his sheep,' John x. 14, but the goats are not written in his book.

* The foundation of God standeth sm-e, having the seal. The Lord knoweth them that are his,' 2 Tim. ii. 19. It is a goodly thing to be famous and remarkable in the world. Est j^tdchrura cUgiio monsircui, et dicier, hie est. It is a goodly thing to be said, ' This is the man whom the world honours,' Esth. vi. 9; but perhaps this is not he whom God honours. He that suffers and does according to the will of God, the Lord will take that man into his bosom: ' Such houoiu' have all his sahats,' Ps. cxiix. 9. It is no great matter for men to be known to kings and nobles, if the Lord know

them not; nothing to ritle in tho second coach, .as Joseph; to bo next to the prince, if they be stranj^ors to the com-t of heaven.

Therefore let us all lay hold on well-domg, that we may have comfort in well-dying. We desire to shut up our last scene of life, with in 7naniis tuas, Domine, commcndo spiritum meum ; Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit. Behold, while we hve, God says to us, in manns tuas, homo, com-viendo Spirituiu mciim ; man, into thy hands I commend my Spirit. As we use God's Spirit in hfe, God will use our spirit at death. If we open the doors of our hearts to his Spirit, he will open the doors of heaven to our spirit. If we feast him with a ' supper' of gi-ace, Kev. iii. 20, he will feast us with a supper of gloiy. If we ' gi-ieve his Spirit,' Eph. iv. 30, he will gi-ieve all the veins of our hearts. When such shall say. Lord, into thy hands we commend our souls ; no, saith God, I will none of your spirit, for you would none of my Spirit. You shut him out, when he would have entered your hearts ; he shall shut you out when you would enter heaven. Let us therefore here use God's Spirit kindly, that hereafter he may so use our spirits. Let us in hfe entertain him with faith, that in death he may embrace us with mercy. So, Lord, into thj^ hands we commend om* souls ; keep and receive them, 0 thou faithful Creator and God of truth, through Jesus Chiist. Amen.

THE SPIRITUAL NAVIGATOR BOUND FOR THE HOLY LAND.

Before the throne there was a sea of glass like unto crystal.' — Rev. IV. 6.

I HAVE chosen a member of the epistle appointed by our church to be read in the celebration of this feast to the most Sacred Trinity. There is One sitting on the throne, which is God the Father; on his right hand the Lamb which was slain, only worthy to unseal the book, which is God the Son; and seven lamps of fii-e burning before the throne, the seven-fold Spirit, which is God the Holy Ghost. Unus potentialiter, trimis lyersonalitcr. Which blessed Trinity in Unity, and Unity in Trinity, inspire me to speak, and you to hear ! Amen. ' Before the throne,' &c.

The Revelation is a book of great depth, containing tot sacramenta, quot verba;'-'' as many wonders as words, mysteries as sentences. There are other books of the gospel; but BuUinger calls this Libnmi evanffelicissbnum,} the most gospel-like book, a book of most happy consolation: delivering those eventual comforts, which shall successively and successfully accompany the church unto the end of the world. It presents, as in a perspective glass, the Lamb of God guarding and regarding his saints ; and giving them triumphant victory over all his and their enemies. The wi-itings of St John, as I have read it observed, are of three sorts. He teacheth in his Gospel especially faith ; in his Epistles love ; hope in his Revelation.

This last (as of great consolation, so) is of great difficulty. There is manna in the ark, but who shall open it to us ? Within the Sanctum Sanctorum there is the mercy-seat; but who shall draw the curtain for us, pull away the veil ? Our Saviour lies here (not dead, but living); but who shall roll away the stone for us ? open a passage to our understanding ? The impediment is not in ohjecto 2^ercipiendo, but in organo percipiendi; not in the object to be seen, but in our organ or instrument of seeing it: not in the sun, but in the dim thicloiess of our sight. God must say unto us, as the man of God spake to Eli in the name of Jehovah, 1 Sam. ii. Hevelando revelavi, &c. * I have plainly appeared unto the house of thy father.'

For my own part, I purpose not to plunge to the depth with the elephant ; but to wade with the lamb in the shallows: not to be over-venturous in the Apocalypse, as if I could reveal the Revelation : but briefly to report * Hieron Ep. Paulin. t Iii Apoc. Con. 61.

what expositions others have given of this hranch ; and then gather somo fi-uit from it, for our ovax instruction and comfort. Being bold to say with St Augustine, whosoever hears mo, ubi pnriter certiis est, j'en/at mccuin ; ubi pariter h(£sitat, qmcrat mecum; vbi errorem suum cofjuoscit, redeat ad me: ubi meum, revocct me.-- If he be certain with me, let him go on with me : if he doubt with me, let him seek with me : if he find out his own error, let him come unto me ; if mine, let him recall me.

With purpose of avoiding prolixity, I have limited myself to this member of ver. 0, 'And before the throne there was a sea of glass like unto crystal.' 1 find hereof seven several expositions. I will lightly touch them, and present them only to your view; then build upon the soundest.

1. Some expound this glassy and ciTstal-like sea, of contemplative men: so Emanuel Sa. But I find this foundation so weak, that I dare not set any fi'ame of discom-se on it.

2. Some conceive it to be an abundant understanding of the truth; a happy and excellent knowledge, given to the saints; and that in a wonderful plentitudc : so Ambrose. Per mare historica, per vitnim inoralis, per chrystallinnm spiritualis intclUgentia. By sea is intended an historical knowledge ; by glass a moral; a spiritual and supernatural by cry'stal.

3. Some understand by this glassy sea Uke crystal, the fulness of all those gifts and graces, which the church derives from Ckrist. In him dwells all fulness : yea so abundant is his oil of gladness, that it runs (as it were) over the verges of his human natiu-e, unto the ' skirts of his clothing;' plentifully blessing his whole church. Thus it is conceived by Brightman. As if this mare vitreum were an antitype to that mare fusum: spoken of 1 Kings vii. 23, this ' glassy sea,' to that' molten sea.' Among other admirable works of that heaven-inspired king, ver. 23, ' He made a molten sea, ten cubits I'rom the one brim to the other: it was round aU about, and its height was five cubits: and a line of thirty cubits did compass it round about,' lie. ; ver. 26, 'It contained two thousand baths.' The end why it was made, and use for which it seiTcd, you shall find, ' The sea was for the priests to wash in,' 2 Chron. iv. Now this might well seem to prefigure some gi*eat plenitude. For otherwise, for Aaron and his sons to wash in, Exiguus aliquis urceolus vel [futtulus suffecisset: some cruet, bason, or laver might sufficiently have sensed.

4. Some intend this glassy sea, like to crystal, to signify calum chrys-tallinum, the ciystalline heaven : which they affirm to be next under that heaven of heavens, where the eternal God keeps his court, and sits in his throne. And somewhat to hearten the probability of this opinion, it is said here, this ' sea is before the throne.'

5. Some expositions give this sea for the gospel. And then' opinion is probably deduced from the two attributes, glassy and crv'slaUine.

(1.) The fii'st e's.^Yesseth perhicidam matericm, a bright and clear matter. Which sets a difference betwixt that legal, and this evangelical sea. That was ex are conftatum, which is densa et opaca maieries: of molten brass, which was a thick, duskish, and shadowy matter; not penetrable to the sight. This is mare vitreum, a sea of glass ; more clear, perspicablo, and transparent. That was a sea of brass, this of glass. In which disparity this latter far transcends the former. So that if David said, Ps. Ixxxiv., * How amiable are thy tabernacles, 0 Lord of Hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord :' speaking but of that ' legal sanctuaiy,' Heb. ix. 1, which was adorned with those LcAitical ordinances, * Lib. 1, de Trin,, cap. 3.

and t5^jical sacrifices; how mucli more cause have we to rejoice witli Peter and those two brethren, Matt. xvii. 1, to see Jesus Christ transfigui'ed in the gospel, ' his face shining as the sun, and his raiment white as the Hght' ? Being not come to the mount of terror, ' full of blackness, and darkness, and tempest,' Heb. xii. 18; whereat even Moses himself did ' exceedingly fear and quake ;' but 'unto Mount Zion, unto the city of the living God, the heaventy Jemsalem, and to an innumerable company of angels: to the general assembly and church of the first bom, which are written in heaven,' &c. For, saith Saint Paul sweetly, * If the ministration of condemnation be glory, much more doth the ministration of righteousness exceed in glory,' 2 Cor. iii. 9. They saw Christum relatum, we revelatum; Christ shadowed in the law, we see him manifested in the gospel. Great, without controversy, is the mystery of godliness: God manifested in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, &c., 1 Tim. iii. 16. They saw 2)er fenestram, we sine medio: they darkly through the windows, we without interposition of any cloud. Great then is the difierence between that figurative molten sea of brass, and this bright glassy sea of the gospel.

This glass lively represents to us ourselves, and our Saviour. Ourselves wicked and wretched, damnatos 2)riusqtidm natos, condemned before we were bom : sinful, sorro'vs'ful; cast down by our own fault, but never restorable by our own strength ; without gTace, ' without Christ, without hope, without God in the world,' Eph. ii. 12. Our Saviour descending from heaven to sufler for us ; ascending to heaven to pro\'ide for us : discharging us from hell by his sufierings, and intercessing us to heaven by his righteousness. Oh look in this blessed glass, and ' Behold the Lamb of God taking away the sin of the world,' John i. 29. Look in it again, and behold all the spots and blemishes in j'our own consciences : as you would discover to your eye any blot on your face, by beholding it reflected in a material glass. See, contemplate, admire, meditate yom- own miserj^ and your Saviour's mercy, in this glass represented.

(2.) Crystalline is the other attribute: Vfhich. is not idem sifiniJico72S, hni plenioris, nee non 2)lanioris virtutis: not signifying the same thing, but of a fuller and plainer virtue, or demonstration. C'hrystallum est quasi eoppers coloris, accedens proxime ad puritatem a'eris. Crystal is described to be (aa it were) void of colour, as coming next to the simple purity of the air. Now as the other attribute takes from the gospel all obscurity: so this takes from it all impurity. There is no human inventions, carnal traditions, or will-worship mixed with this sea : it is pure as crystal. Abundant plagues shall be added to him that shall 'add to this book:' and his part shaU be 'taken away out of the book of life,' that shall sacrilegiously 'take out from it,' Rev. xxii. 18.

Let me say: God beholds us through this ciystal, Jesus Christ; and sees nothing in us lean, lame, polluted, or ill-favoured. Whatever our own proper and personal inclinations and inquinations have been, this tralucent crystal, the merits and righteousness of our Sariour, pretents us pure in the eyes of God. Through this crystal Christ himself beholds his church, and then saith, ' Thou art fair, my love, there is no spot in thee,' Cant, iv. 7.

6. There is a sixth opinion. Some by this glassy and crj^stal sea, conceived to be meant baptism. Prefigured by that red sea, Exod. liv. To which red sea Paul alludes in the point of baptism, 1 Cor. i., ' I would not have you ignorant, how that all our fathers were under the cloud; and all passed through the sea. And were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud,

and in the sea.' Of this mind are Augustine (Tractat. 2 in John), Eupertus, Enthymius.

The accordance of the t^'pe and antitj'pe stands thus. As none of the children of Israel entered the terrestrial Canaan, l)nt by passing the red sea; so ordinarily, no Christian enters the celestial Canaan, but through this glassy sea. The ' laver of regeneration' is that sea, wherein we must all wash. ' Verily, verily, I say unto thee :' He said so, that could tell; and he' doubles his asseveration, * Except a man be bom of water and of the Spu-it, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God,' John iii. 5. Ordinarily, no man comes to heaven diy-shod ; he must wade through this ford. The minister must irrigate. 1 Cor. iii. John Baptist must pour on water; and Christ must christen us ' with the Holy Ghost and with tiro,' Matt. iii. 21. There must be a washed body, a cleansed conscience. This is that the apostle calls ' pure water,' Heb. x. ' Let us draw near with a true heart, in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled fi-om an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water.' So let us draw near: without this no daring to approach the throne of gi-ace. Through this sea we must all sail, the Holy Ghost being our pilot, the word of God om- compass ; or how should we think to land at the haven of heaven !

7. Lastly, others affirm, that by this glass sea is meant the world. So Bullinger, &c. This being the most general and most probable opinion, on it I pui-pose to build my subsequent discourse. A special reason to induce me (as I think, the best light to understand the Scripture is taken from the Scripture; and as God best understands his own meaning, so he expounds it to us by conferring places difficult with semblable of more fjicility) I derive from Rev. xv. 2: ' I saw as it were a sea of glass mingled with fire ; and they that had gotten the victory over the beast, and over his image, and over his mark, and over the number of his name, stand on the sea of glass, having the hai-ps of God.' Where the saints having passed the dangers of the glassy sea, all the perils and terrors of this brittle and slippery world, and now setting their triumphant feet on the shores of happiness, they sing a victorious song: ' Great and marvellous are thy works. Lord God Almighty ; just and true are thy ways, thou King of Saints.' Praising God with harps and voices for their safe waftage over the sea of this world.

Now, for further confirmation of this opinion, in ver. 3, the exultation which they sing is called ' the song of Moses the servant of God.' So that it seems directly to answer, in a sweet allusion, to the delivery of Israel from the Egyptians, Exod. xiv., at what time the divided waters of the Red Sea gave them way, standing up as a wall on their right hand, and a wall on their left; and that so long, till the little ones, and the women with child, might pass over dry-shod ; but at last, returning to their old course, swallowed up their pursuers. Immediately hereon, Exod. xv., Moses and all Israel, turning back to behold the Eg}-ptians drowned in the sea, or floating on the waves, whiles themselves stood secure on dry land, they sung a song to the Lord. The children of Israel, having passed the Red Sea, sing a song to the Lord : the children of God, having passed the glassy sea, sing a song also; and ihja latter song is called by the name of that first, even the song of Moses.

So that the analogy stands thus. 1. The Red Sea was a tj-pe of this glassy sea, the world. 2. The old Israelites, of the new and true Israelites, title faithful. 3. The Egyptians, of all wicked persecutors and enemies of God's chm-ch. 4. Canaan, the land of promise, of heaven the land of purchase, which Christ bought for us at so great a price. Our adversaries like theirs, our dangers like theirs, our waftage like theirs; but the country we

sail to far transcends that earthly Canaan. That did but flow with milk, and honey for a time; this with infinite joy, and iUimited glory for ever. Against this construction it is objected.

1. This sea is before the throne : how can the world be so said ? Ans. Properly : to shew that aU things in the world are not subject to fortune, but governed by ' him that sits on the throne.'

2. The world is rather thick and muddy : how can it be called crystal ? Ans. Fitly : not in regard of its own nature, for so it is polluted ; but respectu intuentls, in regard of God that beholds it; who sees all things done in it so clearly, as in crystal.

The allegory then gives the world—1. For a sea. 2. For the sea of glass. 3. Like to crystal. 4. Lastly, it is before the throne. Two of the circumstances concern the world in thesi, two in hypothesi. It is described taliter and totaliter: simply, and in reference. Simply, what it is in itself; in reference, what it is in respect of God. The world is—I. In regard of itself, 1, a sea, for tempestuousness ; 2, a sea of glass, for brittleness. II. In regard of God, 1, like crystal, for God's eye to see all things in it; 2, before the throne, subject to God's governance.

I. A Sea.—The world is not a material, but a mystical sea. Time was that the whole world was a sea. Gen. vii.: ' The waters prevailed exceedingly upon the earth, and all the high hills, that were under the whole heaven, were covered. Fifteen cubits upward did the waters prevail, and the mountains were covered.' As a poet, according with the Scripture, Omnia Pontus erant, deerant quoque littora ponto.

All was a sea, and that sea had no shores. The deluge of sin is no less now, than was then the deluge of waters. The flood of wickedness brought that flood of vengeance. If their souls had not been first drowned, their bodies had not been ovenvhelmed. The same overflowing of iniquity shall at last drown the woi'ld in fire.

1. The world may be veiy fitly compared to the sea in many concurrences.

(1.) The sea is an unquiet element, a fuming and foaming beast, which none but the Maker's hand can bridle, Matt. viii. ' What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him ?' The world is in fiill measure as unruly. It is the ' Lord that stilleth the noise of the seas, the roaring of their waves, and the tamult of the people,' Psa. Ixv. 7. Where the Psalmist matcheth roaring waves and roaring men ; the raging sea with the madness of the world. And yet God is able to still them both. The prophet calls the sea a raging creature, and therein yokes it with the wicked. ' The wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mu-e and dii-t,' Isa. Ivii. 20.

Una Eurusque Notusque niiuit, creberque procellis Aifricus, et vastos toUunt ad littora fluctus.*

Yet the Lord ' gathereth the waters of the sea together as an heap : and layeth up the depth in store houses,' Psa. xxxiii. 7. Hear God himself speak to this boisterous element. Job xxxviii., 'Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.' Let me say truly of God, what Pliny of nature, in this element. Hie ipsa se Natura mncit numerosis modis. God, who is mai-vellous in all his ways, wonderfcd in all his works, is in the sea most wonderfully wonderful. It is called ^'Equor, quasi minime cequum: so (I think) the world Mundus, quasi minimi

* ^neid. 1.

mundus. Sometime /return a fremitu, of a boisterous and troublesome nature. The world is full of molesting vexations, no less than the sea.

[1.] Sometimes it swells with pride, as the sea with waves ; which David eaith, ' mount up to heaven,' Ps. cvii. Behold that Babylonian Lucifer, saying, ' I will exalt my throne above the stars of God : I will ascend above the heights of the clouds : I will be like the ]\Iost High,' Isa. xiv. 13, 14. Pride is haughty, and walks with a ' stretched-out neck,' Isa. iii. 10, and with an elevated head; as if at every step it could knock out a star in heaven. Especially the proud man, like the sea, swells if the moon incKnes, if his mistress gi-aco him.

[2.] Vain gloiy is the wind, that raiseth up the billows of this sea. The offspring of the revived world are erecting a turret, whose battlements were meant to threaten heaven, Gen. xi. Did they it in an holy ambition of such neighbom-hood ? No ; they loved not heaven so well. Did they it for secm'ity upon earth ? Neither ; for Feriunt summos fnhjura mantes: the nearer to heaven, the more subject to thunder, lightning, and those higher inflammations of heaven. Whereas, Prociil d Jove, procul dfuhnine, was the old saying : Far fi-om Jupiter, far from his thunder. Their purpose ■was onty glory in this world. And as the Psalmist saith, that the wind raiseth the billows of the sea ; ' He commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, which liftethup the waves thereof,' Ps. cvii. 25 ; so ambition was the wind that reared those waves and walls of pride.

[3.J The world, like the sea, is blue with envy, livid with malice. It is the natui'e of worldings to over-vex themselves at the successful fortunes of others. God must do nothing for another man, but the en\'ious man's evil eye thinks himself wi-onged. He repines at that shower, which falls not on has own gi'ound. The precious balms distilled from heaven on neighbours, break the malicious man's head. He hath in him no honesty, but especially wants an honest eye. He wounds himself to see others healed. Neither are the blows he gives his owti soul transient flashes, or lashes that leave no impression behind them ; but marks that he canues with him to his grave ; a lean, macilent, affamished body ; a soul self-beaten black and blue.

[4.] Sometimes it boils with wrath; and herein the world and the sea are very semblable. A mad and impatient element it is; how unfit to figure man! Yet such is his indignation ; if in the rage and fuiy of the sea there be not more mercy.

There is a time when the 'sea ceaseth from her raging:' but the turbulent perturbations of this passion in the world continue without remission or interruption. The angry man is compared to a ship sent into the sea, qiuB DcBinonem hahet guhernatorem; which hath the de\^l for its pilot. Ira mor-talium debet esse mortalis.-^ The anger of mortal man should be mortal, like himself. But we say of many, as Valerius Maximus of Sylla, It is a question, whether they or their anger die first; or whether death prevents tiiem both together. If you look into this troubled sea of anger, and desire to see the image of a man, behold, yon find fiery eyes, a faltering tongue, gnashing teeth, a heart boiling in brine, and drying up the moistm'e of the flesh ; till there be scarce any part left of his right composition. The tumultuous rage of the world so reeks with these passions, that the company of those men is as ominous and full of e\il bodings, as the foaming sea.

[5.] The sea is not more deep than the world. A bottomless subtlety is in men's hearts, and an honest man wants a plummet to soimd it. Policy and piety have parted company; and it is to bo feared, they will

• Lactant.

hardly ever meet again. He is counted a shallow fellow that is, as the Scripture commends Jacob, ' a plain man, dwelling in tents,' Gen. xxv. 27. New devices, tricks, plots, and stratagems are only in request. Do you not know the reason hereof ? The world is a sea; and in this sea is plain-dealing drowned.

[6.] There is foaming luxury in this sea : a corrupt and stinking froth, which the world casts up. The stream of lust in this mare mortuum fumes perpetually ; poisons the air we breathe ; and like a thick fog, riseth up to heaven, as if it would exhale vengeance from above the clouds. This spumy foam is on the surface of the world, and runs like a white leprosy over the body of it. Commend the world, ye aftecters afiected of it: there is a foam that spoils its beauty. Praise it no further than Naaman was, 2 Kings v. He was * captain of the host of the king of Syria, a gi*eat man with his master, and honourable, because the Lord by him had given deliverance to Syria ; he was also a mighty man in valour ; but he was a leper.' There is a blur in the end of the encomium, a blank in the catastrophe, a prickle under the rose. * But he was a leper;' this veruntamen mars all. The world, you say, is sjmciosus, sjjeciosiis; beautiful, bountiful, rich, delightful : but it is leprous. There is a Sed to it, a filthy foam that defiles it.

[7.] The world, as the sea, is a swallowing gulf. It devours more than the sea* of Rome ; yea, and will devour that too at last. It swallows those that swallow it, and wiU triumph one day with insultation over the hugest cormorants, whose gorges have been long ingurgitated with the world ; In viscerihus meis sunt, they are all in my bowels. The gentleman hath swallowed many a poor man, the merchant swallows the gentleman, and at last this sea swallows the merchant. There are four great devourers in the world, luxury, pride, gluttony, covetousness. The prophet Joel speaks of four horrible destroyers. * That which the palmer-worm hath left, hath the locust eaten ; that which the locust hath left, hath the canker-worm eaten; and that which the canker-worm hath left, hath the caterpillar eaten,' Joel i. 4. The palmer is luxury, the locust pride, the canker gluttony, and you all know that the catei'pillar is covetousness. Luxury, hke the palmer, swallows much in the world ; that which luxury leaves unspent, pride the locust devours ; the scraps of pride, the canker gluttony eats ; and the fragments of aU the former, the caterpillar covetousness soon dispatcheth. These be the world's four wide-throated swallowers.

These circumstances have demonstrated (the fii'st instance of this comparison) the tumultuous turbulency of the world. There be many other resemblances of it to the sea.

(2.) Mare amarum. The sea is bitter, and therefore called the sea. A quo dominatio, denominatio. The waters thereof are also salt and brinish. All demonstrates the world to have an unsavory relish. So it hath truly ; whether we respect the works or the pleasures of it.

The works of this sea are the ' waters of Marah,' Exod. xv. 23, If we be true IsraeUtes, ' we cannot drink of the waters of Marah ; for they are bitter.' The works of the world have an unsavoury rehsh. Would you know what they are ? Ask St John. ' All that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but it is of the world,' 1 John ii. 16. Hac tria pro trino Nuinine mundus habet. Ask St Paul. ' Adulteiy, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envy-ings, murders, drunkenness, revellings,' Gal. v. 19. These opera tetiebranim * A play upon the words ' sea' and ' see.'— Ed.

are bitter works ; branches springing from that root, which beareth gall and wormwood, Deut. xxix. Sour and wild grapes, which the soiU of God abhorreth. As tho good Simon told the bad Simon, Acts viii., ' Thou art in the gall of biiteniess and bond of iniquity.'

Nay, even the delights of tho world are bitter, sour, and imsavoury. For a medio defonte leporum, there hap not surrfere amari cdiquid, yet knowest thou not, it will be bitterness in the end ? ' Kejoico, 0 young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee,' &c. ; ' But know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment,' Eccl. xi. 9. It may be honey in the palate ; it is gall in the bowels. ' Though wickedness be Bweet in his mouth, though he hide it under his tongue: though he spare it, and forsake it not, but keep it still within his mouth ; yet his meat in his bowels is tui-ned, it is the gall of asps within him,' Job xx. 12. He that swims in a full sea of riches, and is borne up with whole floods of delights, is but like a sumpter horse that hath earned the trmiks all day, and at night his treasure is taken fi"om him, and himself turned into a foul stable, perhaps with a galled back. The rich worldling is but a hu-ed porter, that carries a great load of wealth on his weary back all his day, till he gi'oan under it; at night, when the sun of his life sets, it is taken from him, and he is turned into a foul stable, a squaUd grave, perchance with a galled shoulder, a raw and macerated conscience.

Say, the delights of this world were tolerably sweet; yet even this makes them bitter, that the sweetest joys of eternity are lost by over-loving them. There was a Roman, that in his wdll bequeathed a legacy of a hundred crowns to the gi'eatest fool. The executors, inquiring in the city for such a one, were dii'ected to a nobleman, that, hawg left his own fair revenues, manors, and manners, became a hogherd. All men consented that he was the greatest fool. K such a legacy were now given, the heirs need not trouble themselves in scrutiny; there be fools enough to be found everywhere, even so many as there be worldlings, that, refusing the honours of heaven, and the riches of gloiy, turn hog-keepers, nay, rather hogs, rooting in the earth, and eating husks.

But how bitter, saltish, and imsavouiy soever the sea is, yet the fishes that swim in it exceedingly like it. The world is not so distasteful to the heavenly palate, as it is sweet to the wicked, who have learned, though with that woe and curse, Isa. v., 'to call good e^il, and evil good ; bitter sweet, and sweet bitter.' They strip themselves to adora it, as the Israehtes did for the golden calf, and so adorned, adore it "with devoted hearts. It is their Baal, theu- idol, their god. Alas ! it is no god ; more hke, they will find it a de\il. IVIi" Foxe in his ' Martyrology,' hath a stoiy of the men of Cockeram, in Lancashire. By a threatening command fi'om Bonner, they were charged to set up a rood in theii- church ; accordingly, they compounded with a carver to make it. Being made and erected, it seemed it was not so beautiful as they desii-ed it; but with the harsh \'isago thereof scared their children. (And what should a rood serve for, but to please children and fools ?) Hereupon they refused to pay the cars-er. Tho carver complains to the justice; the justice, well examining and understanding the matter, answers the townsmen : Go to, pay the workman, pay him; get you home, and mark your rood better. K it bo not well-favoured enough to make a god, it is but clapping a pair of horns on it, and it wiU serve to make an excellent devil. So add but your superstitious dotage, covetous oppressions, and racking extortions to the world, whereby you gore poor men's sides, and let out their hcari-bloods ; and though it be no god

to comfort, you shall find it devil enough to confound The world then is extremely bitter in digestion, whatever it be at the first relish.

Well 3'et, as salt and bitter as this ocean the world is, there is some good wrought out of this ill. That supreme and infinite Goodness dissuades his childi'en from affecting it, by their experienced tartness of it. So the nurse embitters the dug when she would wean the infant. How easUy had Solomon been drowned in this sea, had he not perceived its distaste-fulness ? "When his understanding and sense concludes, ' All is vexation,' his affections must needs begin to abhor it. God lets his children look into the world, as some go to sea to be sea-sick, that, finding by experience what they would not credit by relation, they may loathe this troublesome world, and long to be in the land of promise. He that once thoroughly feels the tm-bulency of the sea will love the dry land the better whiles he lives. Our better spiritual health is not seldom wrought by being fii'st sea-sick —disquieted with the world's vexations. Salt water hath sometimes done as much good as sweet, hard things as soft, as stones as well as cotton are good casting for a hawk. The crudities of sin in David's soul were vomited up by a draught of this bitter water. That profuse son (Luke xv.) would have been a longer stranger to his father's house, if the world had not put him to a hog's diet. Peter no sooner sees the billow, but he ejaculates to Christ a short but substantial prayer, ' Lord, save me.'

For this cause is the world made to us so full of afflictions. Christ pro-miseth to give a reward, but not to take away persecutions, * Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,' Matt. v. 10. He doth not subtract all suffering, but adds a recompence. God doth so mingle, and compound, and make them both of one indifferency and relish, that we can scarce distinguish which is the meat and which the sauce, both together nourishing our spiritual health. You see the aUke distastefalness of the world and sea. This is the second resemblance.

(3.) The sea doth cast forth her dead fishes, as if it laboured to purge itself of that which annoys it, giving only contentful solace and nutriment to those that naturally live in it. So does the world, contending to spew out those that are dead to it. 1 Cor. iv. 10, ' We are made as the filth of the world, and the off-scom-ing of ail things unto this day.' No marvel if she pukes when we lie on her stomach. A body inured to poisons grows sick and queasy at the receipt of wholesome nourishment. John xv. 19, ' If ye were of the world, the world would love his own. But because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.' Not a piece of the world, but all the world. Matt. x. 20, * You shall be hated of all men for my name's sake.'

The godly are indeed the very health of the world. The family thrives the better that Joseph but serves in. The city is forborne so long as Lot is in it. The whole world stands for the elect's sake. And if then- number were accomplished, it should be delivered over to the fire. Yet, oh strange! Elias is said to trouble Israel, and the apostles are thrust out of cities for turbulent fellows. But saith Ambrose, Turbatur ilia navis, in qua Judas fuit. The ship was troubled wherein Judas was. Christ was in a ship with the other apostles, without Judas : behold the winds are still, the sea is calm, the ship safe. Christ was in a ship with Judas amongst the rest, and tur-batur ilia navis: the wind blusters, the waves roar, and a tempest endangers the vessel to ruin.

Benefit multis ex societate boni. One good man doth much good to many.

Ho is not only as manacles to the Lands of God, to hold them from the defulmination of judgments, but is also a happy prevention of sin. He keeps God from being angr}\ He calms him when he is angrj'. A godly man is like David's liaq), he chaseth away the e\i\ from the company, and he doth (as it were) conjure the devil. For in his presence (as if he could work miracles) impudence grows ashamed, ribaldry appears chaste, dnmk-enness is sober, blasphemers have their lips sealed up, and the ' mouth of all wickedness is stopped.' This good comes by the good.

Yet because they are dead to the world, it casts them out. So the Ger-gesites did ' cast Christ out of their borders,' MM. viii. So the pharisees did cast the convert that was bom blind out of their synagogue, John ix. 34. So the Aiitiochians did cast Paul and I'>arnabas out of their coasts, Acts xiii. 50. Like confectioners, that thi-ow away the juice of the oranges, and preserve only the rinds, or as cci-tain chemists, that cast all good extractions to the gi'omid, and only make much of the poison. But if you will not be picked up of the world, you must adhere close to it, and with ah-mental congraence please its stomach. Will .you go to the court ? You must be proud, or you shall be despised. Will you to the city ? You must be subtle, or you shall be cheated. Will you to the countiy ? You must partake of their ignorant and blind dotage, and join in their vicious customs, or you shall be rejected. If you Hve in the world, and not as the world, this sea will spew you up, as too holy for their company. But let them. For ' God forbid that I should glorjs save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world,' Gal. vi. 14.

(4.) The sea is no place to continue in. No man sails there to sail there; but as he propounds to his pm-pose a voyage, so to his hopes a retm-n. You hold him a prisoner that is shut up in close walls, the door of egi'ess baiTed against him. He is no less a prisoner (though his jail be as large as the sea) that must not set his foot on diy gi'ound. The banks and shores be his prison walls ; and though he hath room enough for his body, he is narrowed up in his desires. He finds bondage in hberty. The one half of the earth is but his prison, and he would change his walk for some little island.

The world, in like sort, is no place to dwell in for ever. Self-flattering fools that so esteem it. Ps. xlix. 11, ' Their inward thought is, that their houses shall continue for ever, and their dwelling places to all generations.' Therefore ' they call their lands after their own names.' As if the sea were for mansion, not for transition. It was a glorious piece of the world, which ravished Peter desired to build tabernacles on. Matt. xvii. Yet it was perishable earth, and it might not be gi-anted. Heaven only hath mansions. (John xiv. 2, ' In my Father's house there are many mansions ;' all the world else is but of tottering tabernacles.) And immobile rcgnuvi, Heb. xii 28, ' a kingdom that cannot be shaken,' when all the kingdoms and principahties of the earth shall be overturned. This world, then, only is for waftage.

There is one sea to all men common, but a difl'erent home. We are all in this world, either strangers or stragglers; the godly are strangers. ' Dearly beloved, I beseech you, as pilgi-ims and strangers, abstain fi'om fleshly lusts, which fight against the soul,' 1 Pet. ii. 21. So that aged patriarch acknowledged to the Egj-ptian king, * Few and e\'il have the days of thy servant been* in his pilgrimage.' In that tnie golden legend of the saints, it is said of them, * They confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth,' Heb. xi. 13. The wicked are stragglers too; and

howsoever conenturfirjerepedes, and to 'take their portion in this life,' Ps. xvii. 14, yet they must, with Judas, to ' their own home,' Acts i. 25. We gi'ow upward, they go forward, to heaven or hell, every man to his own place. Let the rich man promise his soul a requiem here, Luke xii. 20. Let the atheistical cardinal of Bourbon prefer his part in Paris to his part in Paradise ; yet the sea is not to be dwelt on. It is but for waftage, not for perpetuity of habitation. This is the fourth resemblance.

(5.) The sea is full of dangers. To discuss the perils of the sea belongs rather to the capacity of a mariner than of a divine. I wiU only apprehend so much as may serve to exemplify this dangerous world.

[1.] The sea is one of those fearful elements wherein there is no mercy. 0 that the world had but so much mercy as might exempt and discharge it of this comparison! But if we take the world for the wicked of the world, we read that ' the very mercies of the wicked are cruel.'

[2.] There be pirates in the sea. Alas! but a handful to that huge army of them in the world. Take a short view of them, boiTowed of a divine traveller. Fmy fights against us, like a mad Tm'k. Fornication, like a treacherous Joab, in kisses, it kills. Drunkenness is the master-gunner, that gives fii'e to aU the rest. Gluttony may stand for a corporal; avarice for a pioneer; idleness for a gentleman of a company. Pride must be captain.

But the arch-pirate of all is the devil, that huge leviathan * that takes his pleasure in this sea,' Psa. civ.; and his pastime is to sink the freight of those merchants that are laden with holy traffic for heaven. ' Canst thou draw out this leviathan with an hook, or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down ? Canst thou put a hook into his nose, or bore his jaw through with a thorn?' Job xh. 1, 2. Historians speak of a fish that is a special and oft-prevaihng enemy to this whale, called by some vihvella, or the sword-fish. The most powerful thing to overcome this mystical leviathan is the sword of the Spirit, which, to be seconded with the temporal sword of the magistrate, is of singular purpose. Whiles neither of these swords are di-awn against this pirate, and his malignant rabble: no marvel if they make such massacres on the sea of this world. Let the red dragon alone; and whilst himself comes tumbling down from heaven, he will draw down many stars with his tail.

[3.J There be rocks in the sea, which if a skilful pilot avoid not warUy, he may soon have his vessel dashed in pieces. How many ships have been thus cast away! How many merchants' hopes thus split! They call their vessels by many prosperous names: as, the Success, the Good-speed, the Triumph, the Safe-guard. How vain doth one rock prove aU these titles! The rocks of our marine world are persecutions and offences, which lie as thick as those fieiy serpents in the wilderness, with their venomous and burning stings, Num. xxi. Christ's cause and Chi'ist's cross go most commonly together; and who shall be sooner offended than his little ones ? * All that will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution,' 2 Tim. iii. 12; as if it were a fatal destiny to them, not to be evaded. 'Woe unto the world, because of offences,' saith he that is able to execute vengeance upon his adversaries, Matt, xviii. 7. *It must needs be that offences come : but woe be to that man by whom the ofience cometh. It were better for him that, with a mill-stone hung about his neck, he were drowned in the depths of the mtiterial sea,' as his soul hath been already drowned in this mystical sea of wickedness. Well, put the worst. If these rocks do shatter us, if these persecutions shall spHt the bark of our life, yet this be our comfort: our death is not mors, but immortcditas; not

a death, but an entrance to life incapable of dying. Rocks in the sea nndo many a merchant. These rocks eventually make us happy; and often we have just cause to take up that saving, Perierauuis, »/.">* j^eriisseinus, wo had been undone, had wo not been undone.

[4.] Besides rocks in the sea, there be also gulfs. In the Sicilian sea there is Scylla, a gi-eat rock, and Charj'bdis, a place of dangerous swallows, whereout was drawn that pi'overb, Incidit in ScijUum, cupieim vitare Cluin/h-diin. Mystically, in this world there are not only rocks of persecutions, but gulfs and swallows of errors and heresies. Let us beware lest, avoiding the one, we be devoiu'cd of the other. There is a perilous gulf in the Roman sea, (too, too many of our nation have foiind it) ; dangerous swallows about Amsterdam. It is good to fly from the gulf of superstition, but withal to avoid the swallow of separation. It is ill turning either to the right hand or to the left; mediocrity is the safest way. When opinion goes before us, it is a gi-eat question whether truth will follow us. Straggling Dinahs seldom return, but ravished, home. Singularity in conceits concerning matters of rehgion, are as perilous as to follow a plurality or multitude in evil customs. A man may perish as easily in the fair-coloured waters of heresy, as in the mud of iniquity. What matters it whether thou be drowned in fair water or foul, so thou be di'owned ? Bewai'e of these gulfs and swallows.

[5.] There be straits in the sea of this world. Those of Magellan or Gibraltar ai*e less dangerous. The hard exigents of hatred, obloquy, exile, penury, misery : difficult straits, which all sea-faring Chiistians must pass by to the haven of bHss. Pirates that care not which way they direct their course, but only watch to rob and spoil, are not bound to these passages. So worldlings, that never aim or intend for heaven, but to ballast themselves with the wealth of the world, fi'om whomsoever, good or bad, or howsoever, by fan- means or foul, they attain it, may keep the broad ocean, and have sea-room enough. For ' broad is the way of destruction, and many there be that keep it,' Matt. vii. But the godly are bound for the coast, that lies upon the cape of Bona Speranza, and they must of necessity pass through these straits. ' Straight and nari'ow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.' But if, like those Argonai;ta3, we will sail for the golden fleece of joy and happiness, we must be militantes inter fluctus, content with hard passages. It is our solid comfort (as it was fabled of that ship, that it was made a star in heaven), that wo shall be one day inter sidera triiunphantefi, ' stars fixed in the right hand of God,' and shining for ever in glory. This is the fifth danger of om- mystical sea —straits.

[6.] There be sirens in the sea of this world. Sirens ; hirens, as they are now called. Those in the material sea are described to have their upper parts the proportion or beauty of women; downwards they are squahd and pernicious. Virgo formosa superne, decidit in turpcm piscem. They enchant men with their voices, and with sweet songs labour sopire naiitas, sopitos demerr/ere, to lull the mariners askep, and sleeping, to sink and drown them. What a number of these sii'ens, hirens, cockatrices, courtezans, in plain English, harlots, swim amongst us! Happy is it for him that hath only heard, and not been infected.

Their faces and their voices promise joy and jolity. Their effects are only to di'own and ship\vreck men's fortunes, their credits, their lives, then- souls. A book called Opus tripartiluni speaks of the storks, that if they catch one stork leaving his own mate, and coupling with another, they all fall upon

VOL. ni. D

him, and spoil him of his feathers and Hfe too. But, as if this sin were grown a virtue by custom among us, there are not wanting, ' who, knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them,' Rom. i. 32. If, in authority committed to inferior magistrates (the persuasions of my heart excuseth the higher powers, and the impartial proceedings of the truly reverend and godly prelates of this land testify it), there were not some connivance (God forbid patronising!) of these enormities for some sinister respects, the sirens about our river of Thames should be, if not sent swimming to Gravesend, yet at least taken in at Bridewell stairs.

Perhaps a poor man incontinent may smart for it; but how often dares an apparitor knock at a great man's gate! If lust comes under the rank of honourable, or worshipful, who dares tax it ? But let as many as would be one spu'it with the Lord Jesus, hate to be one flesh with a siren, 1 Cor. vi. It is recorded of Ulysses, that he stopped his ears against the incantations of these sirens ; and having put the rest under the hatches, bound himself to the mast, to prevent the power of their tempting witchcrafts. Ulysses was held a wise man; sure, then, they are no less than fools that prove and approve their charms. No man loves a gally-pot for the paint, when he knows there is poison in it. I end in the epigram of a modern poet—

Si renum cupis incolnmem servare salutem, Sirenum cantus effuge; sanus eris.

[7.] Another peril in this mystical sea is the frequency of tempests. Some have * tempestuous looks,' as Laban, Gen. xxxi. Some * tempestuous hands,' as Sanballat, Neh. iv., to hinder the building of Jerusalem. Innumerable have tempestuous tongues, as Ishmael, Shimei, Rabshakeh. Such tempests have been often raised from the vapour of a malicious breath, that whole kingdoms have been shaken with it. Master Foxe mentioneth, in his Book of Martyrs, that one in the street ciying ' Fire, fire,' the whole assembly in St Mary's, in Oxford, at one Mallary's recantation, presumed it to be in the church. Insomuch that some laboui'ed at the doors, where, through the crowd of many, not one could pass. Some stuck in the windows. All imagined the very church on fire, and that they felt the very molten lead di-op on their heads. Whereas all was but a false fire. There was no such matter. In like sort scandalous slanders and invective contumelies begin at a little breach, one calumnious tongue, and get such strength, like mutineers, with marching forward, that the world soon riseth in an uproar. These are called by Ambrose, Procellce mimdi. And what world-faring Christian hath escaped these storms ? But says Epictetus, Si rect^ facts, quid eos vereris, qui non recte reprehendunt ? If thou do rightly, why shouldst thou fear them that blame wi'ongfuUy ? Do well and be happy, though thou hear ill. This is another danger—tempests.

[8.J There is yet a last peril in the sea, which is the fish Bcmora. A fish, it is described, of no magnitude, about a cubit in length, yet for strength able to stay a ship. It is recorded that Caius Caesar's gaUey was stayed by this fish.

There are many remoras in this world that hinder the good speed of Christian endeavom'S. Would Herod hear and obey John Baptist's preaching ? He hath a remora that hinders him, Herodias. Would Nicodemus fain come to Christ ? Fear of the Jews is his remora. Would Paul come to Thessalonica ? The devil is his remora. ' We would have come to you

once and again, but Satan hindered us,' 1 Thcss. ii. 18. Yea, doth Christ himself pm-pose, in his infinite mercy, to suffer for us, and pre-acquaint his apostles with it ? Even Peter will be his reniora. ' Master, favour thyself. This shall not be unto thee,' Matt. xvi. 22. Hath that forward young man any good mind to follow Christ ? The parting with his goods to the poor is his remora. Would you have him that is rich follow poverty ?

Such are our romoras now, that hang upon our arms, hke Lot's wife, dissuading our departure from Sodom. Are we invited to Christ's supper, the gospel ? Some oxen, or ftu'ms, or a wife's idleness, the pleasures of the liesh, retard us. Some business of our own is a remora to God's business. Are we called to speak in the truth's cause boldly ? The awful presence of some great man is our remora, we dare not. Doth our conscience prompt us to parley for the restoring of the chm-ch's right ? Our own impropriations, and the easy gain of the tenth of our neighbour's goods, are a remora, we cannot. Ai-e we exhorted, in the name of Jesus Chi-ist, for God's mercy to us, to shew mercy to his, to feed the hungiy, succour the weak, relieve the poor, and make us friends of our unrighteous mammon by charity ? Aias ! the world, covetous desu-e of gain, is our remora, we must not. Tell the covetous man that he is not God's treasurer, but his steward, and blame him for perverting the end of his factorship, there is a de\'il plucks him by the sleeve, thirst of gain. God he confesseth his master, but the v/orld his mistress. If you ask him why he doth not in charitable deeds obey his Master, he answers his mistress will not let him.

Would the young man repent ? His harlot steps forth, and, like a remora, stays his course. Let a sermon touch a man's heart, and begin remorse in him, that he purpose reformation, good fellowship, like a remora, stops him. Yea, let a man in an age (for rare are the bii-ds that drop such feathers) erect hospitals, piety and devotion shall meet with some remoras that would overtkrow them. You hear the dangers of the sea of the world, the fifth cu'cumstance of this comparison.

(6.) In the sea there be lyjijig iyJvo(pdyoi, fishes that eat up fishes. So in the world, dk^^wrro; dv^ecti'rroipdyoi, men that eat up men, Ps. xiv. 4. ' Have all the workers of iniquity no knowledge ? w^ho eat up my people as they eat bread.' The wicked man devom-eth the righteous. ' Thou makest men as the fishes of the sea,' Hab. i. The labours of the poor, even his whole heritage, is worn upon the proud man's back, or swallowed down into his belly. He racks rents, wTings out fines, extorteth, enhanceth, improveth, impo-verisheth, oppresseth, till the poor tenant, his wife, and children ciy out for bread, and behold, all buys him scarce a suit of clothes ; he eats and di-inks it at one feast.

Oh, the shrill cry of our land for this sin, and the loud noise it makes in the ears of the Lord of Hosts ! The father is dead that kept good hospi-taUty in the countiy, and the gallant, his son, must hve in London, where, if he want the least superfluity that his proud heart desireth (and how can he but want, in the infinite pride of that city ?) he commits all to a hard steward, who must wring the last di'op of blood from the tenant's heart, before the landlord nmst want the least cup to his drunkenness, the least toy to his wardrobe.

If this be not to eat, swallow, devour men, blood and bones, then the fishes in the sea forbear it. Hear this, ye oppressors ! Be merciful. You will one day be glad of mercy. The yellings of the poor in the country are as loud as your roarings in the city. The cups you drink are full of

those tears that drop from affaraished eyes, though you perceive it not. You laugh when they lament, you feast when they fast, you devour them that do you service. God will one day set these things in order before you.

(7.) The sea is full of monsters. Innumerable, and .almost incredible are the relations of travellers in this punctual demonstration. As of estau-rus, a fish chewing the cud like a beast; of the manate, headed like an ox ; and of certain flying fishes, &c. And are there not in this world men-monsters ? I do not say of God's maldng, but of their own marring.

You would think it prodigious to see a man with two faces. Alas ! how many of these walk daily in our streets ! They have one face for the gospel, another for the mass-book; a brow of allegiance for the king, and a brow of apostasy or treason for the pope, whensoever he shall call for it. You would think it a strange defect in nature to see a man born without a head. Why, there are innumerable of these headless men among us, who, like brute beasts, have no understanding, but are led by the precipitation of their feet; follow their own mad afi'ections. Others redundantly have two tongues, dissemblers, hypocrites; the one to bless God, the other to curse man made after his image. They have one to sing in a church, another to blaspheme and roar in a tavern.

Some have their faces in their feet, whereas God, os homini sublime dedit, ccelumque tueri jiissit, gave man an upright comitenance, and framed him to look upwards. These look not to heaven, whence they did di'op, but to heU, whither they will drop. Insatiable earth-scrapers, covetous wretches, that would dig to the centre to exhale riches. Others have swords in their lips, a strange kind of people, but common, railers and revilers. Every word they speak is a wounding gash to theii' neighboui's. Weigh it seriously. Are not these monsters ?

(8.) On the sea men do not walk, but are borne in vessels, unless, Hke our Savioui- Christ, they could work miracles. In the world men do not so much travel of themselves, as they are carried by the stream of their own concupiscence. So saith St Chrysostom, ' Hie homines non ambulant, sed feruntur; quia diaholus cum delectatione compellit illos in mala.'''^ Here men do not walk, but are carried; for the devil bears them upon his back, and whiles he labours them to hell, wind and tide are on his side. When he hath them in profundis ahjssi, upon that bottomless depth, he strives to exonerate his shoulders, and doth what he can to let them fall and sink into the infernal lake. So Paul saith that temptations and snares, foohsh and hurtful lusts do (no less than) di-o-ttTi men in perdition. You think yourselves on dry and firm gi'ound, jq presumptuous wantons. Alas ! you are on the sea, an inconstant sea.

Digitis a morte remoti Quatuor, aut septem, si sit latissima t«da :

Soon overboard. The winds will rise, the surges will beat, you will be ready to sink ; cry faithfully, and in time with the apostles, Lord, save us, or we perish.

(9.) Lastly, the sea is that great cistern, that sends water over all the earth, conveying it through the veins, the springs, till those dispersed waters become rivers, and then those rivers run back again into the sea. This vast world scattereth abroad her riches ; drives and derives them by certain passages, as by conduit-pipes, unto many men. The rich man shall have * Horn. 7, Oper. iinper.

many springs to feed him with wealth ; the east and west winds shall blow him protit ; industry, policy, fraud, luck shall contend to give his dition the addition of more wealth. At length when these springs have made a brook, and these brooks a river, this river runs again into the sea. When the rich man hath sucked the world long, at last nbsorbetur d mundo, he is sucked up of the world. Wliatsocvcr it gave him at many times, it takes away at once. War, exile, prison, displeasure of gi'eatness, suits of law, death, empty that river in one moment, that was so many years a filling.

Man's wealth is like his life; long a breeding, soon extinct. Man is bom into the world with much pain, nursed with much tenderness, kept in childhood with much care, in youth with much cost. All this time is spent in expectation. At last, being now (upon the point) a man, the prick of a sword kills him. Even so is our wealth piled, so spoiled ; the world, like some politic tjTant, suflering us to scrape together abundant riches, that it may suq)rise us and them at once.

Innumerable other relations would the world and the sea afford ns. I desu-e not to say all, but enough; and enough I have said, if the aflectiona of any soul present shall hereby distaste the world, and grow heavenly. Oh, what is in this sea worth our dotage ! what not worth our detestation ! The sins of the world offend our God; its vanities hurt ourselves ; its only good blessings serve for om* godly use, and to help us in oiu- jouraey. But we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness. Pray we, that this sea infect us not, especially drown us not. Though we lose, like the mariners in the prophecy of Jonah, our wares, our goods, our vessel, om- liberties, yea our lives, let us keep om* faith. It is the most dangerous shipwreck, that this naufi-agous world can give, the shipwTeck of faith. They write of the sei-pent, that he exposeth all his body to the blow of the smiter, that he may save his head. So lose we our riches, our houses, lands, liberties, lives ; but keep we faith in our Head, Jesus Christ.

Though we live in the world, let us not love the world, saith St John. Not foshion om-selves to it, saith St Paul; hate the vices, the villanies, the vanities of it. Think it easier, for that to pervert thee, than for thee to convert that. Water will sooner quench fire, than fu-e can warm water. A httle wormwood embitters a good deal of honey ; but much honey cannot sweeten a little wormwood. Call we then on our God to preserve us, that the e^^l of the world infect us not. Ai'istotle saith, if a man take a vessel of earth new and raw, close up the mouth thereof, throw it into the salt sea, letting it lie there a day or two; when he takes it up, he shall find fresh water in it. ' Though we be soused in this ocean-world, yet if the Spirit of gi'ace seal us up, the brinish waters of sin shall not enter us; but we shall be vessels of grace here, hereafter of glory.

If I have been somewhat long on the sea, you will excuse me. It is a great and vast element to travel over in so short a time. Some observations I have given you, that I might not cross the world without some fruit of my voyage. Only what I have spoken of the waters, let it not be drowned in the waters, as the proverb saith, not perish in your memories, without some fruit in your hves.

2. The next circumstance gives the world, not only for a sea, but vmre vitreum, a sea of glass. You see, I must cari-y you further on this element, and yet at last leave many coasts unvisited, much smothered in silence. Let not all be via navis, as the wise man speaketh, the way of a ship on the sea, leaving no track or print in your remembrances.

This glassy attribute shall give us observable three properties in the world.

(1.) Colour. (2.) Slipperiness. (3.) Brittleness. As certainly as you find these qualities in glass, expect them in the world.

(1.) Colour.—There is a glassy colour congi-uent to the sea. So Virgil insinuates, describing the Nereides, certain marine nymphs.

Milesia vellera nymphse Carpebant hyali saturo fucata colore.

And not far removed,

Vitreisque sedilibus omnea Obstupuere ;—

Which is spoken, not in respect of the matter, but of the colour, and perspicuity. So Ovid in an epistle.

Est nitidus, vitroque magis perlucidus amne, Fons sacer. ?

AH the beauty of glass consists in its colour ; and what in the world, that is of the world, is commendable, ^j?-«/e>- colorem, besides the colour ? A cottage would serve to sleep in, as well as a sumptuous palace, but for the colour. Russets be as warm as silks, but for the glittering colom-. The Egyptian bond-women give as much content, as Queen Vashti, but for the coloui'. The beauty of the fairest women is but skin deep, which if nature denies, art helps them to lay on colours. And when they are most artificially complexioned, they are but walking and speaking pictures. It is the colour of gold that bewitcheth the avarous ; the colour of jewels that make the ladies proud. If you say, these are precious and comfortable in themselves, then feed on them, and tiy if those metals can (without meat) keep your life and soul together.

The truth is, man's corporal eye sees nothing but colour. It is the sole indefinite object of our sight, whithersoever we direct it. We see but the lay part of things with these optic organs. It is the understanding, the soul's interior eye, that conceives and perceives the latent virtues. AJlthat we outwardly behold, is but the fashion of the world; and St Paul saith, * The fashion of the world perisheth,' 1 Cor. vii. 31. The colour fades, and the splendour of things is decayed. That if the world, like aged and wrinkled Helen, should contemplate her owq face in a glass ; she would wonder, that for her beauty's sake Troy should be sacked and burned; man's soul endangered to eternal fixe.

Oh how is the splendour and glory of the world bated and impaired since the original creation ! The sky looks dusky; the sun puts forth a drowsy head; as if he were no longer, as David once described him, hke a ' Bridegroom coming out of his chamber, or a strong man rejoicing to run his race.' The moon looks pale, as if she were sick with age ; and the stars do but twinkle, as if they were dim, and looked upon the earth with spectacles. The colours of the rainbow are not so radiant, and the whole earth shews but like a garment often dyed, destitute of the native hue.

It is but colour that delights you, ye worldlings. Esau lusts for the pottage, because they look red; and the drunkard loves the wine, because it looks 'red, and sparkles in the cup,' Prov. xxiii. 31. ' Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright.' What babes are we, to be taken by these colours that only please the eye, or the sensual part of man, and harm the soul! like children that play with glass, till they cut their fingers.

Avicen saith, that glass among stones is as a fool amongst men; for it

takes all paint, and follows precious stones in colour, not in virtue. So does this Avorld give colours to her ricbcs, as if there were some worth and virtue in them, till we are cozened of heavenly and substantial treasures by over-prizing them. No matter, saith Isidore, is more apt to make mirrors, or to receive painting, than glass. So men deck the world, as the Israelites did their calf, and then superstitiously dote upon it, as Pygmahou on his can'ed stone.

But can colour satisfy? Is man's imaginative power so dull and thick as to be thus pleased'? Shall a man toil to dig a pit, and laboriously draw up the water ; and then must he sit by and not drink, or drink and not have his thirst quenched? Yes: thus do we long after earthly things, which obtained, give us no full content; thus disregard spiritual and heavenly, whereof but once tasting, we go away highly satisfied. Say, then, with Bernard—

Oh bone Jesu, fons indeficiens,

Humana corda reficiens :

Ad te curro, te solum sitions :

Tu milii salus sufficicna.

Oh, Jesus, fountain ever flowing,

Thy graces on man's soul bestowing!

To thee I run with thirsty heart,

And none shall want, though I have part.

For others it shall be said, ' Lo, this is the man that made not God his strength; but trusted in the abmidance of his riches, and strengthened himself in his wickedness,' Psa. lii. 7. But the faithful ' shall be hke a green olive-tree in the house of God,' ver. 8; and of as fresh a blee- as Daniel, whom the mercy of God, wherein he trusts, waters for ever and ever. The colour of this glassy sea vanishcth, like the beauty of a flower; and when it is withered, who shall revive it? Rub your eyes, and look on this world better : it hath but a surphuUed cheek, a coloured beauty, which God shall one day scour off with a flood of fii'e. Trust not this glass for reflection, as if it could present you truly to your own judgments. It is but a false glass, and will make you enamom-ed both of yourselves and it, till at last, the glass being broken, the sea swallows you. Thus for the colour.

(2.) Glass is a slippery metal. A man that walks on it had need be shod as the Gemians, that slide upon [ice. But go we never so steady on this glassy sea, even the just man falls seven times a day. How soon are we tripping in our most considerate pace! David said he would take heed to his ways; but how soon did his foot slide upon this glass! Psa. xciv. 18. ' When I said, my foot shppeth, thy mercy, 0 Lord, held me up.' Let us all pray with him: ' Hold up my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps slip not.' And if we have stood, let us magnify him in the next psalm. ' Thou hast enlarged my steps under me, that my feet did not slip.' For the wicked, how surely soever they think themselves fixed in this world, yet, Psa. Ixxiii. 18, they are set in slippery places. They talk of strong and subtle ^vrestlcrs; but the cunningest WTestler of all is the world: for whose heels hath it not tripped up? The wisest Solomon, the strongest Samson, have been fetched up by this >\Testler, and measured their lengths on the gi'ound. How dangerous, then, is it to run fast on this sea, where men are scarce able to stand! No marvel, if you see them fall in troops, and lie in heaps, till with their weight they crack the glass, and topple into the depth.

* That ia, blow or bloom.— Ed.

There you shall see a knot of gallants laid along this glass, that have run headlong at pride. There, a coi'poration of citizens, that have run at riches. Here, a rabble of drunkards, that ran apace to the tavern. There, a crew of cheaters, that posted as fast to Tybum. Thus the devil laughs to see men so wildly running after vanity, and this glassy sea so easily hurling up their heels. It is reported of the Irish, that they dig deep trenches in the ground, and pave the surface over with green turfs, that their suspectless enemies may think it firm ground. This world is the devil's vanity sea, fall of trenches and swallows, which he paves over with glass. The way seems smooth, but it is slippery. His intention is mischievous, ut lapsu graviore ruamus, that we may have the surer and sorer fall. He that walks on this slippery glass had need of three helps: circumspect eyes, sober feet, and a good staff in his hand.

First, He must keep his eyes in his head. Eph. v. 15, ' See that jq walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise.' Phny writes of the eagle, that when she would make the stag her prey, she lights do^vn between his horns, whence he cannot shake her; and with dust ready laid up in her feathers, she so fiUeth his eyes, that he being blinded, breaks his own neck from some high cliff or momitain. If the devil can blind a man's eyes with the dust of vanities, he will easily fling him down on this slippery glass, and drown him in this dangerous sea. Neither must our eyes only be careful to descry our way, but of sound and faithful discretion, not to be deluded with the spectacles, which this glassy sea presents, so retarding our journey to heaven. Pliny reports, that when the hunter hath stolen away the tigress's whelps, he scatters in the way g}'eat mirrors of glass, wherein, when the savage creature looks, she, seeing herself presented, imagines these to be her young ones; and whilst she is much troubled to deliver them, the hunter escapes. If we stand gazing on the glassy mirrors of this world, fame, honour, beauty, wealth, wantonness, thinking we see therein presented those dear joys we should seek for, behold, Satan in the mean time doth insensibly rob us of them. Let us look well about us: we walk upon glass.

Secondly, He must have sober feet. He had not need be dninken, that walks upon glass. If he be diimken with the vanities of this world, he may mistake himself, as that drunkard did, who, seeing the resultant light of the stars shining in the water about him, thought he had been translated into heaven; and rapt in a gi'eat joy, fell a waving, as he imagined, in the air, till he fell into the water, not without peril of life. He that is spiritually drunk vaaj, in like sort, imagine the stars to be fixed in this glassy sea, which are indeed in heaven; and that the world can afford those true joys, which are only to be found above. I have heard of some coming out of a tavern well lined with liquor, that, seeing the shadows of the chimneys in the street made by the moon, have took them for great blocks, and down on their knees to climb and scramble over them. So worldlings that are drimk, but not with wine, enchanted with earthly vanities, think every shadow which is put in theii' way to heaven a great block, and they dare not venture. Sober feet are necessarily required to om-travel on this glassy sea.

Thirdly, Lastly and mostly, He that would walk stedfastly on this glassy sea, had need of a good staff to stay him. The best and surest, and that which will not let him fall, or if he do fall, will soon raise him, is that David speaketh of, Psa. xxiii. 4, God's staff. ' Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me;' confortant —make me strong, bear and hold me up.

Eg^-jit is but a 'broken reed.' Ho that leans on it shall find the splinters running into his hand; and cursed is ho that makes flesh his arm: but who leans faithfully on this staff, shall never perish. Thus you have heard this glassy world's slipperiness.

(3.) This glass denotes brittleness. Proverb and experience justify this. As brittle as glass: a lit attribute to express the natm-e of worldly things; for glass is not more fragile. ' The word passcth away, and the lust thereof,' saith St John, 1 John ii. 17. Man himself is but brittle stulf, and he is the noblest part of the world. ' Man that is born of a woman, is of few days, and fall of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down; he flieth as a shadow, and continucth not.'

' Sic in non hominem vertitur omnis homo.'

Let him have an ample portion in this life, and ' his belly be filled \vith God's hidden treasures,' Ps. xvii. 14. Let him be ' full of children, and leave the rest of his substance to his babes.' Let him be happy in his lands, in his children, in his success, and succession. 'Yet a little while, and the wicked shall not be ; thou shalt dihgently consider his place, and shalt not find it,' Ps. xxxvi. 10.

Glass, whiles it is melting hot and soft, is pliable to any fonn; but cold and hard, it is brittle. When God first made the world, it was malleable to his working hand, to his commanding word; for he spake the word, and things were created. The next time he touchcth it, it shall break to pieces like a potsherd. ' The heavens shall pass away with a gi-eat noise, the elements shall melt with feiwent heat, and the earth also, and the works that are therein, shall be burnt up,' '2 Pet. iii. 10. Isidore mentions one that came to Tiberius the emperor with a vial of glass in his hand; and throwing it down to the gi-ound it brake not, but only was bent, which he straightened again with his hammer. But, saith the same author, the emperor hanged him for his skill. How pleasing an invention should that false prophet make, that should come and tell the covetous worldUng, or luxurious epicure, that this glassy world is not brittle, but shall abide ever! But serve him as the emperor did, hang him up for an atheistical liar that so speaks.

The decay of the parts argues the dotage of the whole. iEtna, Parnassus, Olympus are not so xnsible as they were. The sea now rageth where the ground was dry; and fishes swim where men walked. Hills are sunk, floods dried up, rocks broken, towns swallowed up of earthquakes; plants lose their force, and planets their virtue. The sun stoops like an aged man; as weary of his com'se, and willing to fall asleep. All things are subject to violence and contrariety, as if both the poles wei'e ready to niinate their climates. * The end of all thhigs is at hand,' 1 Pet. iv. 7 ; when

' Compage soluta, Ssecula tot mundi suprema coaggeret bora.'

God hath given us many signs of this. Portenta, quasi pono tendentia. Siffna habciit, si iuteUitidutur, liufiuam suam. Signs have their language, if they could be rightly understood. Ultivia tribalalio mitltis tribulatiouihiis fa;rvenitiir. There are many calamities preceding the last and universfil cjilamity of the world. No comet, but threatens ; no strange exlialations, alterations, seeming combustion in the heavens, but demonstrate the general deluge of fij-e that shall destroy all.

' Nunquam futilibus percanduit ignibus sether.'

As God's tokens in the plague pronounce the infallibUity of instant death, so these signs of the world's sickness are avant-couriers of its destruction.

Men are desirous to buy the calendar, that in the beginning of the year they may know what will betide in the end; what dearth, or what death, will ensue. Behold, Christ and his apostles give us a prognostication in the Scriptures: foretelling by signs in the sun, moon, stars, in the universal decay of nature, and sickness of the world, what will happen in this old year, what in the new year, which in the world to come. The mathematicians and astronomers of the earth never dreamt of a universal ecHpse of the sun, only Christ's almanac reports this, Matt. xxiv.

All beings are of one of these four sorts : Some are from everlasting, not to everlasting. Some to everlasting, not from everlasting. One only thing is both from, and to, everlasting. The rest are neither to, nor from, everlasting.

First, Some are from everlasting, not to everlasting: as God's eternal decrees, which have an end in their determined time, but had no beginning. So God, before all worlds, determined the sending of his Son to die for us, Acts ii. 23; but he came ' in the fulness of time,' saith the apostle, Gal. iv. 4. This decree had no beginning ; it had an ending.

Secondly, Some are to everlasting, not from everlasting: as angels, and men's souls, which had a beginning in time, but shall never end; because they are created of an immortal nature.

Thirdly, One only thing, which is indeed ens entium, God himself, is both from everlasting and to everlasting. For he is an uncreated and eternal subsistence : Alpha and Omega ; that First and Last, that had neither beginning nor shall have ending. Whom Plato called to ov ; and he calls himself by Moses 6 uv, ' that was, that is, and that is to come ;' the same for ever.

Fourthly, Other things are neither from everlasting, nor to everlasting; for they had a beginning, and shall have an end. Of this sort are all worldly things. God will give them their end as he is Omega, that gave them their creation as he is Alpha. All these things do decay, and shall perish.

' Mors etiam saxis, nominibusque venit.'

Death shall extend its force even upon stones and names.

Who can then deny this world to be brittle ? We see how slowly the tired earth returns us the fruits which we trusted her bowels with. Her usury grows weak, like a decayed debtor, unable to pay us the interest she was wont.

' Ni vis humana quotannis Maxima quseque manu legeret.*

The world is lame, and every member, as it were, out of joint. It caught a fall in the cradle, as Mephibosheth by falling from his nurse; and the older it waxeth, the more maimedly it halteth. Sin entered presently after the world's birth, and gave it a mortal wound. It hath laboured ever since of an incui-able consumption. The noblest part of it, man, first felt the smart; and in his curse both beasts and plants received theirs. It fell sick early in the morning; and hath now languished in a hngering lethargy, till the evening of dissolution is at hand.

Now, since the world is a sea, and so brittle a sea of glass, let us seek to pass over well, but especially to land well. A ship under sail is a good

* Georg, i.

i

sight; but it is better to see her well moored in the haven. Be desirous of good life, not of long life: the shortest cut to our haven is the happiest voyage. AVho would be long on the sea ? If a storm or ^vreck do come, let us save the best good. Whatsoever becomes of the vessel, thy body, make sm'e to save the passenger, thy soul, ' in the day of the Lord Jesus.' I have now done with the sea, and for this point here cast anchor.

n. Thus far wo have surveyed this glassy sea, the world, in regard of itself. The other two attributes' concern Almighty God's holding and beholding, guarding and regarding, his seeing and overseeing it. Et videt, etprovidet: he contemplates, he governs it. His inquisition, and his disposition, are here insinuated. Somewhat (and not much) of either.

1. That God may most clearly view all things being and done in this world, it is said to bo in his sight as clear as crystal. As in ciystal there is nothing so httle but it may be seen; so there is nothing on earth said or done, so slight or small, that it may escape his all-seeing providence. Omnia sunt mala et patentia oculis ejus. ' There is no creatm-e that is not manifest in his sight; but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him, with whom we have to do,' Heb. iv. 13. In vain men hope to be hid from God. * He that planted the ear, shall he not hear ? He that formed the eye, shall he not see ?' Ps. xciv. 9. All the earth is full of his glory, ' Whither shall I go from thy Spii'it ? or whither shall I Hce from thy presence ?' Ps. cxxxix. 7. It is there amply proved, that neither heaven nor hell, nor uttermost part of the sea, nor day nor night, light nor darkness, can hide us from his face. ' For thou hast possessed my reins, thou hast covered me in my mother's womb.' Our sitting, walking, lying down, or rising up; the thoughts of our hearts, works of our hands, words of our Ups, ways of our feet; our reins, bones, bosoms, and our mothers' wombs, wherein we lay in our fii-st informit}^ ai'e well known unto him.

Qualis, mihi dicite, Deus consendus est; Qui cuncta cernit, ipse autem non cernitur!

said an old poet. ' The Lord hath seven eyes, which run to and fro through the whole earth,' Zech. iv. 10. He is totus oculiis. Let us not flatter ourselves with those, Ps. x., that ' say in their heart, God hath forgotten : he hideth hia face ; he will never see it;' and so endeavour to pluck out the eye of knowledge itself. But there is neither couch in chamber, nor vault in the gi'ound, clouds of day, darkness of night, bottoms of mountains, nor holes of rocks, nor depth of seas, secret friend, nor more secret conscience, heaven nor hell, that can obscure or shadow us from the eye of the Lord. Wheresoever we are, let us say with Jacob, ' The Lord is in this place, though we be not aware of it,' Gen. xx\iii. 17.

Oh, the infinite things and actions that the eye of God sees at onco in this crystal glass of the world ! Some caiing to come out of debt, others to get into debt. Some delving for gold in the bowels of the earth, others in the bowels of the poor. Some buying and bargaining, others cheating in the market. Some praying in their closets, others quaffing in taverns. Here some raising their houses, there others ruining them. Alterum con-summantem matrimonium, alterum consumcntem j)atrwioniiim One marrying and going to the world, another miscanying, the world going from him. There run honour and pride acquis ccrvicibus. There walks fraud cheek by jowl with a tradesman. There stalks pride with the pace of a soldier, but habit of a courtier, stri\-ing to add to her own stature, feathered on the cro^vn, corked at the heels, light all over, stretching her logs, and

spreading her wings like the ostrich, with ostentation of great flight; but, nilpeuna, seel usus, not an inch higher or better. There slugs idleness; both hands are in its bosom, while one foot should be in the stirrup. Halloo in his ear, preach to him; if he will not waken, prick him with goads; let the corrective law disple -'- him; he cries not Fodere nescio, but Fodere twlo; not, I know not how to dig, but I will not dig.

Here halts opinion, lame, not with the shortness but length of his legs, one foot too long that mars the verse. 'There runs policy, and moves more with an engine than many men can do with their hands, leading life after this rule: si occulte, bene; if close enough, well enough. There hurries the papist to the mass, and his wife, the cathohc, equivocate before a competent judge, though Christ would not before a Caiaphas, climbing to salvation by an attorney, and hkely to speed by a proxy.

There slides by the meagre ghost of malice, her blood drunk up, the marrow of her bones wasted, her whole body like a mere anatomy. There fly a crew of oaths hke a flight of dismal ravens, croaking the ' plague to the house' where the swearer is, Zech. v. 3. Nay, ruin to the whole land, Jer. xxiii. ' For oaths the land moumeth.' Here reels drunkenness with swollen eyes, stammering feet, befriended of that poor remnant of aU his wealth (the richly stocked gi'ounds, richly furnished house, richly filled purse, are all wasted, and nothing is left rich but), the nose. There goes murder from Aceldama, the field of blood, to Golgotha, the place of dead souls, and from thence to Hinnom, the valley of fire and tomients. There see atheism projecting to displant the paradise of God, and turn it to a wilderness of serpents. Heaven is held but a poet's fable, and the terrors of heU, like Hercules' club in the tragedy, of huge bulk, but rags and straw are the stuffing. Creatures that have a little time on earth, and then vanish. Tui qui dicis, transit Christiamis, ijjse transis sine Christianis. Thou that sayest the Christians perish, dost perish thyself and leave the Christians behind thee. Whither go these atheists ? I believe not to heaven, for they beheve there is no heaven. They shall never have those joys they would not beheve. They are not in hell neither; there is no atheist. Where then ? In hell they are indeed, but not as atheists. They no sooner put their heads within those gates but atheism di'ops ofi"; they believe and feel now there is a God.

There you shall hear hypocrites, a pipient brood, cackling their own ripeness when they are scarce out of their shells ; whose words and works difier, as it is seen in some tap-houses, when the painted walls have sober sentences on them as, ' Fear God, honour the king,' ' Watch and pray,' * Be sober,' &c., and there is nothing but di-unkenness and swearing in the house. There is ignorance, like a stricken Sodomite, groping for the way; nay, indeed, neither discerning nor desiring it. He sees neither numen nor lumen, neither diem, the dayUght of the gospel, nor Deum, the God of day and gospel.

There goes slovenly faction, like a malcontent, that, with incendiary scruples, labours to divide Judah from Israel. It was a strange doom that Valens the emperor gave against Procopius, causing him to be tied to two great trees bowed forcibly together, and so his body to be pulled asunder ; that would have pulled asunder the body of the empu'e. The humourists thrust themselves into this throng, or else I would have spared them ; but truth of love to some must not prejudice love of truth in any. If they had as imperative tongues and potential hands, as they have optative minds, * Qu. "Disciple?"— Ed.

they would keep an infinitive stir in the lacerated church. God sees the malicious Jesuit callinj:^ up a parliament of do-vils to plot treasons. lie hears their damnable consultations, and observes them, whiles they apparel blood-red murder and black conspiracy in the white robes of religion. He saw Garnet plotting in his study, and Faux digging in the vault, and meant to make the pit, which they digged for others, swallow themselves.

He beholds, as in a clear miiTor of ciystal, all our impurities, impieties, our contempt of sermons, neglect of sacraments, dishallowing his Sabbaths. Well, as God sees all things so clearly, so I would to God we would behold somewhat. Let us open our eyes, and view in this ciystal glass our own works. Consider we a little our own wicked com-ses, our perverse ways on this sea. Look upon this angle of the world, for so, we think, Anrflia signifies ; how many vipers doth she nurse and nourish in her indulgent bosom, that wound and sting her ? The landlords' oppression, usm-ers' extortion, patrons' simony, commons' covetousness; oui- unmercifulness to the poor, over-mercifuhiess to the rich, maUce, ebriety, pride, profanation—these, these are the works that God sees among us; and shall we not see them ourselves ? Shall we be utter strangers to our o\\-n doings ? ' Be not deceived : neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God,' 1 Cor. vi. 9. Let not us then be such. ' Let us not be desirous of vain-glory, provoking one another, envying one another,' Gal. v. 2G. Methinks here, vain-glory stalks in like a mountebank gallant, provocation like a swaggering roarer, and malice like a meagi-e and melancholy Jesuit. All these things we do, and God sees in the light; and in the light we must repent them, or God will pimish them \vith everlasting darkness. You see how the world is clear to God's eye as ciystal.

2. Lastly, this glassy sea is not only as crystal for its transparent brightness, that the Almighty's eye may see all things done in it. But it lies, for situation, before his throne, generally for the whole, and particulai-ly for every member, subject to his judgment and governance.

His throne signifies that impartial government which he exerciseth over the world. ' The Lord shall endure for ever ; he hath prepared his thi'one for judgment; and he shall judge tlie world in righteousness, he shall minister judgment to the people in uprightness,' Ps. ix. 8, 9. Neither is it all for judgment; there is not only a terrible thunder and lightning flashing from his tin-one, but out of it proceed comfortable voices speaking the solaces of the gospel, and bmdiug up the broken-hearted. Therefore it is said, ver. 3, there is a ' rainbow about the throne,' which is a sign of God's covenant, a seal of his eternal mercy towards us. This is round about the seat, that God can look no way but he must needs see it. So that to the faithful this throne is not tenible : ' Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find gi-ace to help in the time of need,' Heb. iv. 16. If there be the fii'e of judgment, there is also the rain of mercy to quench it.

Neither is this a transitory throne, subject to changes and schemes, as all earthly tin-ones are; but (Heb. i. 8), * Thy throne, 0 God, is for ever and ever; a sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy kingdom.' ' He shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end,' Luke i. 33.

He that sits on the throne is not idle ; to let all things in the world run at sixes and sevens ; but omnia iton sohun permissaa Deu, sed etiam tDtwrna. So disposing all things, that not only the good are ordained by him, but

even the evil ordered. The sin is of man, the disposition of God. But let God alone with oportet necessitatis; let us look to oportet officii. Sennacherib cannot do what he Usts, God can put a bridle in his hps, a hook in his nostrils : ' 0 Assyiian, the rod of mine anger, and the staff in their hand is mine indignation,' Jer. x. 6. ' Thou art my battle-axe and weapons of war: for with thee will I break in pieces the nations ; and with thee wiU I destroy kingdoms,' Jer. li. 20. JJltenus ne tende odiis; go no further upon God's wrath, thou desperate, wicked man. Gregory Nazianzen speaks of the emperor Valentine, infected with the Aiian heresy, that being about to write vrith his own hand the proscription and banishment of Basil, the pen thrice refused to let fall any ink. But when he would needs write, such a trem-bUng invaded his hand, that his heart being touched, he sent presently and recanted what he had written. But I press this point no farther, having in other places liberally handled it.

The four beasts, in ver. 8, ' rest not day nor night, saying Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come.' The fathers, from these words, observe the mystery of trinity in unity, and of unity in trinity—that God is thi-ice called holy, signifies the trinity; that our Lord God Almighty, the unity. Quid est, quod ter Sanctus dicitur, si non trina est in Divinitate persona ? Cur semel Dominus Deus dicitur, si non est una in Divinitate substantia ? * Let us then, with the four-and-twenty elders, fall down before him that sits on the throne, ascribing worship to him that hveth for ever; and casting our crowns to the ground, renouncing our own merits, sing to the eternal Unity, ' Thou art worthy, 0 Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power; for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.' Amen.

* Fulgent.

PRESUMPTION RUNNING INTO DESPAIR.

' They said to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and hide 7(sfrom the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the xiralh of the Lamb. — Rev. vi. 16.

This verse may be distinguislied into error and terror; the en'or of the reprobate, the terror of the judge. Theu" error is manifested in their invocation, in which we may observe: to what? mountains and rocks; for what? to fall on them, to hide them.

Thus their amazed error and ignorance is expressed in their prayer. For the terror the Judge is described by his omniscience, ' from the face of him that sitteth on the thi'one;' his omnipotence, ' from the wrath of the Lamb.'

Every circumstance serves to aggravate their folly and desperate fear. 1. They fear God, but too late. 2. They open their hps to confess the invincible power of Christ; before they were either dumb in silence or blasphemous in contumelies. 8. They pray to the mountains and rocks, which hear them not. 4. To fall on them, which they dare not. 6. To hide them, which they cannot. 6. They beg to be concealed from him that is all eye, from the face of him that sits on the throne. 7. To be protected Irom him that is all power, ' from the wrath of the Lamb.'

Before we come to their error and matter of theii' invocation, let us examine two things: what they were, and what they did.

1. The persons thus amated* with error and amazed with tcn-or are described in the precedent verse: ' The kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, the bond, and the free, hid themselves in the dens and rocks of the mountains.' The greatness of man, when it comes to encounter with God, is weakness and vanity. Is the reprobate a king? The crown on his head is not thunderproof; lift he his sceptre never so high, there is a sceptre of justice shall smite it do\\'n.

Is he gi'eat in his countiy, that (as they wi-ite of the sea about the castle of Mina) the cun-eut goes ever with the wind of his will ? Be he never so high, there is one ' higher than he, and the Highest of aU regai'deth it,' Eccles. viii. 5, and will subject it.

Is he rich? Were he the eldest son of Mammon, and sole heir to all the usurers in the world, can his gold save him ? Is vengeance afraid to strike * That is. ' mated.'— Ed.

his vessel because his sails be of silk and it is ballasted with refined ore ? Shall he buy out his damnation with coin? No, the Samuel of heaven will never take bribes.*

Is he a cliief captain ? Be his looks never so stem, his speech never so imperious, impetuous, he may command here and go without. Were he general of Xerxes' army, yet he shall find the words of the psalm truth, ' Man is not saved by the multitude of an host.'

Is he mighty? Were he, as Alexander thought himself, till he saw his own blood, the son of Jupiter Hammon, yet woe to man when he shall wrestle with his Maker. Proud worm, he may dare to lift up his head, but shaU quickly be trodden into slime. When the Lord of hosts is angry, whose wrath shakes the earth and bmns to the bottom of heU, who shall proudly without confusion look him in the fiice? SiUy giant of men, that thou shouldest dare to grapple, to parley, yea, so much as to look at God! Lo, gi'eatness!

Time was when, if a fi-iend in the com't shall say to thee, as Elisha to the Shunamite, ' What is to be done for thee ? Wouldest thou be spoken for to the king, or to the captain of the host?' 2 Kings iv. 13, it would have seemed as high a gi-atifying and ratifying of his love to thee as thou couldst have desired or he expressed. What lavom- wiU it be at this day to be spoken for to all the kings of the earth, ' great men, rich men, mighty captains ?' Alas! they have need to be spoken for themselves. The greatest potentate, if reprobate, hath now his honour laid in the dust, and from a public throne he creeps into a hole. As ambitious Herod received his pride and glory (with derogation to God, vox Dei) in a theatre, so now his shame and confusion is in the sight of tbe whole world, of good and bad angels, of good and bad men. Sennacherib, in his rufi", could once say, * Where is the king of Hamath, and the king of Arphad, the king of the city of Sepharvaim, Zena, and Ivah?' Isa. xxxvii. 13. But now where is the king of Ashur? Thus ' God leadeth princes away spoiled, and overthroweth the mighty,' Job xii. 19, 21. For their wickedness, ' he poureth contempt upon princes.' Then shall be manifest the imresJstil)le power and unblameable justice of God, ' who sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers: stretching out the heavens as a cm-tain, and spreading them as a tent to dwell in. He bringeth the prmces to nothing, and maketh the judges of the earth as vanity,' Isa. xl. 22, 23.

What privilege, then, do these inferior authorities bring with them, that the bondman should thus strive to be fi'ee, the fi'eeman to be mighty, the mighty to be a chief captain, the chief captain to be rich, the rich to be great, the great to be kings, till, in their opinion, nil restat quod prcestat, nothing remains to be aspired to. Whereas to these men, omnia in 2>roesenti j^at'va, in fine nulla, 2)ost fin em mala, all is for the present httle; for ut lima, sic suhlunaria, as the moon itself, so all things under it are subject to eclipses and changes. In the end they are nothing; death, when the game is done, shuffling king and pawn into one bag. After the end found evil things; for et penluniur et j^ierdunt, they are both lost themselves, and lose their owners.

These so popular wonders, the terror of slaves and mirror of fools, on whom the eye of the world was fixed with admiration, are glad to hide themselves in holes. Where are you, je great men, that were so ambitious of fame, and made human praise stand in competition with conscience, as if it were the better misti'ess and worthy of more servants ? Alas! glad to * 1 Sam. sii. 2.— Ed.

be shrouded in boles; yoiir f^reatncss now wisbetb itself so little that it might not be seen. You insatiate covetous, that never ceased joining house to house, laud to land, and possessing whole countries, yet whined for lack of elbow-room ; lo, you shall at this day be glad of a hole, a dark hollow cave in a rock, for 3'our parlour, or more glad if you might be dissolved into nothing.

2. 'Tlicy said:' We have described the persons, what they were. Let us see what they did. They said : They open their lips to confess the invincible and inc^itablo power of Christ. Whence derive we two observations.

(1.) The sense of present misery takes away atheism. Before, their mouths were cither shut by silence or opened by blasphemies; possessed either with a dumb or a roaring devil. ' God was not in all their thoughts,' Ps. X. 4 ; or if in their thoughts, not in their lips ; or if in their lips, but to his dishonom*; not named but in their oaths. Now, lo, they speak, and make a desperate acknowledgment of that power they erst derided. The day of judgment, when it comes, shall find no atheist. What those degenerate creatures would not believe they shall see ; they would not aclcnow-ledge their Maker, they shall find their Judge, and cry to the mountaias, Fall on us, &c.

Consider this ' ye that forget God, lest you be torn in pieces when there is none to deliver you,' Ps. 1. 22. You may forget him during yom- short pleasure, you shall remember him for ever in torture. Proceed to ' speak of him wickedly, and like enemies to take his name in vain,' Ps. cxxxix. 20, you shall one day fall low before his footstool, not with a voluntaiy, but enforced, reverence. You that have denied God on earth, the fu'st voice that shall come fi'om youi* lips shall be a hopeless acknowledgment of his majesty.

(2.) The saying that comes fi:om them is desperate ; whence note that, in God's just punishment, desperation is the reward of presumption. They that erst feared too little, shall now fear too much. Before, they thought not of God's justice, now they shall not conceive his mercy. Consciences that are without remorse are not without hon'or. It is the kindness which presumptuous siu doeth the heart, to make it at last despair of forgiveness. ' They say.'

Behold, God accuseth not, they accuse themselves. God loves to have a sinner accuse himself, and therefore sets his deputy in the breast of man ; which, though it be a neuter when the act is doing, is an adversary afterwards. The conscience is like the poise of a clock ; the poise being down, all motion ceaseth, the wheels stir not; wound up, all is set on going. Whiles conscience is down there is no noise or moving in the heart, all is quiet; but when it is woimd up by the justice of God, it sets all the wheels on working,—tongue to confess, eyes to weep, hands to ■svi'ing, breast to be beaten, heart to ache, voice to cry; and that, where mercy steps not in, a fatal cry, to the hills, ' Fall on us, and hide us.'

Sin and judgment for sin make the most cruel men cowardly. Tyrants whose frowns have been death, oppressors that have made their poor tenants quake at their looks, now tremble themselves, and would change firmness with an aspen leaf. They that care not for the act of sin shall care for the punishment. Tumidi facicndo, timidi paticiido. Nero, that could not bo tn-ed in cutting throats, is soon weaiy of his own torment. They that havo made others weep, shall desperately howl themselves. Cain, that durst lull the fourth part of the world at a blow, even his own brother, dares afterwards not look a man in the face, lest he should be slain. Gen. jv. 14.

Wlio durst be more impudently bold with God than Judas, when lie betrayed his only Son to murderers ? Yet, after the treason, who more cowardly than Judas ? He becomes his own hangman. The cui'se that follows sin makes presumption itself to shudder. But what madness is it not to complain till too late. If our foresight were but half as sharp as our sense, we should not dare to sin. The issue of wickedness would appear a thousand times more horrible than the act is pleasant.

Let this teach us now to think of the justice of God as well as his mercy, that hereafter we may think of his mercy as well as his justice. The mercy of God is abused to encourage lewdness, and wi'etched men by Christ's merits are emboldened to commit that for which he died ; but so men may run with mercy in their mouths to hell. They that in life will give no obedience to the law, shall in death have no benefit by the gospel. When they gave themselves over to lying, swearing, coveting, &c., they were wont to cry, Mercy, mercy ; now, lo, they feel what those sins are, and cry nothing but Justice, justice ; they cannot think on mercy. They that have abused mercy, must be quitted with vengeance. The good now sing, ' With thee, 0 Lord, is mercy ; therefore thou shalt be feared.' The reprobates sing at last. With thee, 0 Lord, is judgment; with thee is storm and tempest, indignation and wrath, confusion and vengeance, and therefore art thou feared.

These necessary occurrences thus considered, let us pass to their invocation, wherein is exemplified their error. Here we must observe, To what; For what they call.

1. To what.—They are mountains and rocks, um'easonable, yea, insensible creatm'es. Whence we may deduce two inferences, a negative and an affirmative.

(1.) Negatively, it is clear, that they have no acquaintance with God, therefore know not how to du'ect their prayers unto him. If their trust had been in God, they needed not to fly to the mountains. So David sweetly, Ps. xi., 'In the Lord put I my trust: how then say you to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain ?' It is God's charge ; ' Call upon me in the day of trouble ; and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me,' Ps. 1. 15. But, Rom. X., ' How shall they call on him in whom they have not believed ?' Or beheve in him they have not known ? And how should they know him but by his word ? Alas, those mutual passages and mtercourse of means they have ever debarred themselves. They would neither sufier God to trouble them by his word, nor would they ofier to trouble him by their prayers. ' They will not call upon him,' Ps. xiv. 4, nor will they hear him caUing upon them.

Therefore as those that never were in the company of God, they know not how to address themselves to him, but rather to rocks and mountains. As extremity discemeth friends, vere amat, qui misenmi amat, so it distin-guisheth a man in himself. A sudden disturbance gives a great trial of a Christian's disposition. For, as in a natural man at such an affrightment, all the blood runs to the heart, to guard the part that is principal, so in a good man, at such an instance, all the powers and faculties run to the soul, to save that which is principal. The blood and spirits strive to save the life of the body ; faith and hope to save the life of the soul. So that at the sudden assault of some danger a man shall best judge of his own heart. It may be at other times a dissembler, for ' man's heart is false, who canj know it ?' yet at such time it will manifest itself, and cannot deceive.

If God hath been our familiar friend and accustomed helper, danger dothj not sooner assault us than we salute him by om- prayers. The fii'st thoughlj

of our hearts is Jesus Christ; the first voice of our hps is Peter's on the sea in such an extremity, ' Lord, save ine,' Matt, xiv 3U ; our faith is reposed on his wonted mercy and protection, ' We know whom we have believed.' Daniel calls on God ere he falls to the hous; this stops their mouths.

The wicked, in such misery, are either heavy and heartless, as Nabal, whose ' heart died within him, and he became as a stone,' 1 Sam. xxv. 37. Or desperate, as Julian, thro\nug his blood up into the air, with a blasphemous confession. Or sottish, as these here, ninning to the mountains, unprofitable, unpossible helps. ^\Ticu the blow of vengeance strikes the covetous, he runs to his counting-house ; if his bags can give him no succour, he is distracted. If any broken reed be their confidence, in these ovenvhelmiug woes, the}' catch di-owning hold of that; so they and their hopes perish together. There are some whose tongues are bo poisoned with blasphemy, that, in an unexpected accident, the veiy first breath of their lips is a cui'se or an oath. As if they would swear away destiniction, which every ungodly speech di-aws on nearer. If these men had been acquainted with God in fair weather, they would not forget him in a storm. But they that will have no familiarity with God in peace, shall have him to seek in extremity.

AVhen therefore some sudden peril hath threatened thee with ten-or, note seriously how thou art aflected. Though the danger came unlooked for, let it not pass imthought of; but as thou blessest God for delivery, so examine the good or iU-disposedness of thine own heaii. If thou find thyself courageous and heavenly-minded on thy confidence in God, take at once assurance of thy faith and God's mercy. He that now stood by thee, will never leave thee. If othenvise, lament thy sins v.hich darken thy soul's way to the mercy-seat, and beseech Jesus Christ to store thy heart with better comforts. If thy treasm'e be in heaven, and thy soul hath been used to travel often thither, when danger comes, it knows the way so well that it cannot miss it.

(2.) Afiirmatively, this presents a soul amazed with fear andfoUy. They call to the mountains, that can neither hear nor answer. "When the world •was destroyed with water, men chmbed up to the tops of the mountains; when it shall be dissolved with fire, they will desire the holes of the rocks, to he under the hills. The mountains are but swellings of the earth, and the rocks ai-e sui'd things, that have no ears: can they heai* ? or if they hear, can they answer ? or if they ausv.er, can they save? When the gi-aves must vomit up their dead, shall the rocks conceal the li^Tng? Those five kings could not be hid in the cave of Makkedah ffom Joshua, Josh. x. 17, and shall any cave hide fi-om Jesus ?

Whiles guilt and fear consult of refuge, how vain shifts they imagine! Adam would hide his disobedience in the bushes ; Saul his rebellion in the crowd of the people. So the hood-winked fool seeing nobody, thinks nobody sees him. Helpless evasions ! WTien Adonijah huard the tnimpets sounding at Solomon's coronation, he quaked, and * lied to the horns of the altar,' 1 Kings i. 50. When the ungodly shall hear the archangel's triimp proclaiming the coronation of Christ, they have no sanctuaiy (they never loved it in all their hves), but fly to the rocks and mountains.

The gi-ave is a dark and privative place: yet as a prisoner that comes out of a sordid and stinking dungeon, into the open air for his tiial in a desperate cause, had rather keep the prison still; so these reprobates newly raised from the earth, ciy to it to receive them again, glad to remain (though not on the face of it with pleasui-e) in the bowels of it with rottenness and

solitude, rather than in the open light to come before the judgment-seat of Christ. The grave is a down-bed to hell. They suddenly start out of their sleep, and meet with ghastly amazedness at the mouth of their sepulchres: beholdmg on the one side sins accusing, on another side hellish fiends vexing, an anguished conscience burning within, heaven and earth without; above them the countenance of an angry Judge, below them a lake of unquenchable fire, round about howling and bitter lamentation : no marvel then if at the world's end they be at their wits end, and cry to the mountains, ' Fall on us.'

Let all this declare to men the vanity of their worldly hopes. God is the Preserver of men, not hills and rocks. The rich man is brought in upon a preimmire, can his gold acquit him in this star chamber ? The epicm'e thinks to drown sorrow in lusty wines ; the oppressor mistrusts not the power of his own hand; the proud refugeth his troubled heart in his trunks, the lustful in his punks; what is this but running to rocks and mountains ? Thus madly do men commit two errors. They ' forsake the Creator, which would never forsake them, and adhere to the creatures, which can never help them,' Jer. ii. 13. ' 0 Lord, the hope of Israel, all that forsake thee shall be ashamed, and all that depart fi'om thee shall be written in the earth,' Jer. xvii. 13. Now at this day, perhaps, they would seek to the Lord, but they are answered, Go to the gods whom je have served. Lo, then, of these gods they shall be weary, as in Isa. ii., where these very words of my text are delivered, ver, 19, ' They shall go into the holes of the rocks,' &c., it is immediately added, ' In that day a man shall cast his idols of silver, and his idols of gold, which he made for himself to worship, to the moles, and to the bats.' Even the spiritual idolater, the covetous, shall throw his images, golden or silver shrines for the Diana of his avarice, his damned coin to combustion, with a v(b, Woe unto it, it hath lost my soul; as the sick stomach loathes the meat, whereof it surfeited.

Well, let us leave invocation to these rocks, worldly refuges, and remember that there is One to be called on, who is only able to defend us, a spiritual, holy, and happy rock, Jesus Christ. David often calls God his ' Rock and his Refuge,' Psa. xviii. 2, and xxviii. 1. A rock that bears up the pillars of the world, ' Then- rock is not as our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges,' Deut. xxxii. 31. He that builds his house of assurance on this Rock, shall stand immovable to wind or weather; he needs not the shelter of mountains, ' for he shall stand like Mount Sion, that abideth fast for ever,' Psal. cxxv. 1. They that despise him, shall find him a Rock also, ' If they fall on it, they shaU be broken: if it fall on them, it will grind them to powder,' Matt. xxi. 44. He is a stone, the stone, the ' headstone of the corner,' Ps. cxviii. 22. cut out of the quany of heaven, ' without hands,' Dan ii. 45, of whom we are made ' living stones,' 1 Pet. ii, 5. He is strong without all things ; all things weak without him; trust in him, and you shall have no need to fly to rocks and mountains.

2. For what.—The benefit that they would have the rocks and the mountains do them, is to fall on them and hide them. Whence we derive three observations.

(1.) Despair is ever wishing for death, often impatiently snatching at it in this world; but when the last day comes, so greedily longmg for it, that to be sure of it, they desire the mountains to dispatch them. Death by the wicked is now most feared, death at the last shall be the thing most wished; * they shall desire death, and shall not find it.' They that sit in the warm nest of riches, hatching up their brood of lusts, quake at the hearing

of death. There ai-e some fear to die, others not so much to die as to be dead. The former are cowardly, the other unbelieving souls. Some fear both, to whom nothing in life than life is more desirable. But when this last extremity comes, mori cupiimt, they desire to die. And that death, like a merciless executioner, might not have too many strokes at their lives, they beg help of the mountains, that they may be thoroughly dispatched at once, without need of a second blow. Cain, at his arraigimient for his brother, would needs Uve ; God gi-ants it, as if it were too much favour for him to die. But he yields it for a curse, as if he heard his prayer in anger. He lives, but banished from God, carrying his hell in his bosom, and the brand of vengeance in his forehead. God rejects him, ♦iic earth repines at him, and men abhor him. Lo now Cain would die; himself now wisheth the death he feared, and no man dares pleasure him with a murder. As Nero in the like case, Nee amicuvi, vec iniwicumhabco, I have neither fi-iend nor enemy ; or as Saul found in his armour-bearer not a will to kill him, though he had a will to be killed by him. Death these reprobates feared, and only death is now desii'ed. ' They cry to the mountains. Fall on us.'

(2.) Observe that rocks and mountains are far lighter than sin. Zacha-riah compares it to a talent of lead, Zach. 5; Isaiah calls it a bm-den, Isa. xxi. Such a weight bore om- Saviour, that he gi-oaned under it. ' I am pressed under you, as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves,' Amos ii. 13. The wicked, that, like Babel-builders, think to aspire to heaven by multiplying of earth, would be glad if, cumuli tumuli, their bodies might be buried under their heaps of wealth, where their souls had been buried long before. But what is a load of earth, a mountain huger than Etna, under which Jupiter was said suhtcr fulminare gigantes, what is the whole massy body of the earth, to the weight of sin ?

Think of it, ye Thcomachoi, that strive in yom- rebellions imponere Pelion osscc, ye rapacious covetous, that ' load yom-selves with thick clay,' Hab. ii. You lay heavy bm'dens on the poor, heavier on yom* consciences. Sin may seem light for a season, as a pack made up, but not assayed, with one of your fingers. When Satan shall lay it on you, it will break your backs. You bear it now hke cork and feathers; at that day you shall judge it heavier than rocks and mountains.

Now, in contempt of law and gospel, honesty and conscience, earth and heaven, they call to pride, ambition, blasphemy, ebriety, luxmy, oppression, ' Fall on us, and cover us,' wearing ' pride as a chain, and covering themselves with cruelty as with a garment,' Ps. Ixxiii. G. Sin lies at the door, and they easily take it up. The devil puts his shoulders under the weight, and, thus supported, they feel it not. But when God's justice shall' reprove them, and set their sins in order before their eyes,' Ps. 1. 21, yea, impose them on their weak and yielding consciences, how diflerent will their cry be? 'Moimtains, fall on us; rocks, cover us.' The swearer saying to these heavy creatures. You are lighter than my oaths; the covetous. You are not so ponderous as my oppressions; the adulterer, The whole earth is a gentle pressm'e to the burden of my lusts.

Custom in sin obstupefies a man's sense, and still, Hke that Roman Milo, his strength increasing with his burden. He that fii-st carried sin a wanton calf, can at last bear it a goring ox. Men lock up their iniquities, as the usurer his money in a chest, where the light of reproof may not find them out. They pack all their iniquities upon Him that will bear them for none but His; or reserve them to an hour's repentance, setting them a day of

cancelling, but they break it, as if their last breath could dispel and scatter them all into air. But, alas! sins then are found heaviest of all, and here, Hke malefactors pressing to death, they cry out for more weight, the accession of rocks and mountains, to dispatch them. Lo, they are to come before the Judge, therefore would be pressed to death by these ponderous and massy creatures.

The mountains have not been more barren than they of goodness, the rocks not so hard as their hearts. The cross of Christ hath been held too heavy, repentance too troublesome a guest for their houses, faith and obedience have been cast ofi" as poor friends, aU godhness too weighty; now rocks and hills are light. Christ's yoke was not for their shoulders; Satan's must. His law might not be borne, it was so heavy; his wrath must be borne, and that is heavier. Oh, then, thrice-blessed they whose sins God bindeth up in a bundle, and sinks them in the whirlpool of for-getfahiess, that they may never be imposed, for they are too heavy to be borne.

(3.) Observe that before these wicked were lords of nations and countries (for they are said to be princes, captains, conquerors, rich men); now they would be glad of one hole to hide them. Of all their dominions they beg but the barrenest parcel, a rock or mountain; and that to do them a poor office, to conceal them. How much doth man's avarice and ambition covet here, how little contents him hereafter! In death the wickedest potentate must be content with a grave. After death he would be content with a grave still; yea, glad if in the bottom of a mountain he might be hidden.

Hear this, ye covetous, that 'join house to house, and land to land,' by disjoining the societies of men, as if you would leave the whole earth to your babes. Excutlt natura redeuntem, sicut intrantem,-'' Natm'e shall as strictly examine your going out as it did your coming in. Nome telluns tres tantum cubiti te expectant ?-\ Do not only three cubits of gromid allot themselves to receive you? Only a grave remains, and all you that boast of your great lands shall at that day say, Hcfc terra mea, et terra tun, this is all my land, this is all thy land; even so much room as thy dusts will take up, and all the remainder of mighty Hercules will scarce fill a little pitcher. A little quantity of gi'ound hath nature proportioned thee, didst thou possess as much as ever the tempter shewed Clu'ist ? When certain philosophers intentively beheld the tomb of Alexander, saith one, Heri fecit ex auro thesanrum; hodie aunmi ex eo facit thesaurum, | ' Yesterday he treasured up gold, to-day gold treasures up him.' Another, ' Yesterday the world did not content him, to-day ten cubits contain him.' Socrates carried Alcibiades, bragging of his lands, to a map of the world, and bade him demonstrate them. Alcibiades could not find them, for, alas! Athens itself was but a small and scarce discernible point. A wiser man spake otherwise of his lands, 0 Arjer, qudm midtorum fuisti et erisi nunc mem, et jwstea nescio cKJus, ' 0, land, how many men's hast thou been, and shalt be! now mine, and hereafter I know not whose.' So httle ground contents us when we are dead.

But when the wicked shall rise again, would it not serve them still with all their hearts? Had they not rather lie in rottenness than combustion? Were not a cold gi-ave more welcome than a hot furnace ? Yes, rather had they be dead Avithout sense than alive in torment. Now they beg not a city, though a little one as Zoar; not a house, though poor and bleak as Codrus's; not an open air, though sharp and irksome, scorched with the * Sen. -f- Baail. % Alphons.

Indian sun, or frozen with the Russian cold. There is no hope of these favoiu's. Give them but a mountain to fall on them, and a rock to hide them, and they are highly pleased. Here is a strange alteration for the wicked, when they shall go from a glorious mansion to a loathsome dungeon, from the table of surfeit to the table of vengeance, from fawning observants to afflicting spirits, from a bed of down to a bed of lire, from soft linen and silken coverings to wish a rock for their pillow and a mountain for their coverlet! Nay, and yet they that commanded so far on earth cannot command this piece of eartii to do them such a kindness. They could in the days of their pride speak imperiously enough, ' This land is mine, this town is mine;' as Nabal said, ' Shall I take my meat and my drink ?' &c.; but now they feel it was none of theirs, not ono hole must shelter them, not one hillock do them service.

Nothing helps when God will smite; mountains and rocks are no defence when God pursues. * Dost thou think to reign because thou clothest thyself in cedar'?' Jer. xxii. 15. What is cedar against thunder? God hath a hand that can strike through forts, rocks, and buhviU'ks. The sevenfold walls of Babylon cannot defend the tjTant within them. The heavens ' melt at the presence of the Lord; if he touch the mountains, they smoke' for it. The offspring of the revived world oiler to build a tower whose top might reach to heaven. WTiat security could be in it? Are not things nearer to heaven more subject to the violences of heaven, hghtning, thunder, and those higher intlammations! Feriimt snnvnos ful-gura monies. In se marina ruiuit, swnniisque negation est stare tliu. God soon made it a monument of their folly and his power. He gives confusion of their voices and their work at once. When God rained fi-om heaven that greatest shower that ever the earth did or shall sustain, you know their shifts. They think to overclimb the judgment, and, being got up to the highest mountains, look down with some hope on the swimming valleys. When the water began to ascend up to their refiiged hills, and the place of their hope became an island, lo, now they hitch up higher to the tops of the tallest trees, till at last the waters overtake them, half dead with hunger and horror. The mountains could not save them in that day of water, nor shall the mountains in this day of fii'e. It is not then the defence of forts and ports, the secrecy of caves or gi'aves, the bottom-burrows of hills, or vault}- dens of rocks; not a league with all the elements of the world, beasts of the earth, stones of the street, that can secure them. Be hidden they cannot; what should they then wish but death ? They that once trembled to die do now more quake to live; they would be glad of a riddance, and kiss the instrument of their annihilation. They would prize and embrace it as the best happiness that ever saluted them, if, like beasts, they might perish to nothing. Here they en\y the stork, stag, raven, oak for long life, and chide natm*e for their own shortness; but at this day they would change with any flower, though the coutuauance thereof were not 80 much as Jonah's gom-d's, and think not to be was to be happy. The pangs of the first death are pleasures in respect of the second.

But what hope is there of their security or refuge in mountains, when, ver. 14, ' the very heaven shall depart as a scroll that is rolled up together, and every mountain and island shall be moved out of their places?* So Isa. xxxiv. 4. Heaven is c.rpansitm tanqiuim lintenm, ct diducta lamina; but shall then be ' folded up like a garment,' whose beauty is not seen; or ' rolled together like a volume,' Heb. i. 12, whose large contents are, as it were, abridged. Not that the matter of tho world shall be quite

abolisliecl; for, as we say now of grace, Aclolet non aholet natitram gratia, so we may say of justice, Perficit non dcstndt munclum jiistitia. Corruption shall be taken away, not all the matter that was corrupted. But if all things be thus naiTOwly searched, how shall the ungodly hope to lie hidden ?

II. We have now considered the horror of the reprobates ; let us look to the Judge, from whom they desire to be hidden. ' From the presence of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb ;' in whom we find an omniscience, and an omnipotence, which circumstances the time allows me but to mention. First, for his all-knowing wisdom :—

1. ' From the face.'—It was ever the fashion of guiltiness, to fly from the presence of God. Adam had no sooner sinned, but he thrusts his head in a bush. Sin's inevitable efiect is shame. Though impudence bear it out for a time, ' They were not ashamed when they had committed abomination,' Jer. vi. 15 ; yet they shall one day ' bear the reproach of their sins, and be ashamed, yea even confounded,' xxxi. 19. Shame must come, either first to repentance, ' What fruit had you then in those things, whereof you are now ashamed,' Rom. vi. 21; or at last in vengeance, 'Let them be ashamed that transgress without a cause,' Ps. xxv. 3. Let this teach us how to judge rightly of sin, that di'ives us from the face of God.

But doth not the glory of the Lord fill all the earth ? ' Wliither then shall they go from his face : whither fly from his presence ?' Ps. cxxxix. 7. We shall find the prophet concluding in that psalm, that there is neither heaven nor hell, nor uttermost part of the sea, nor day nor night, light nor darkness, that can hide us from his face. Our sitting, Ijang down, rising up, the words of our tongues, ways of our feet, thoughts of our heart, our reins, bones, and mothers'wombs, wherein we lay in our first informity, are well known to him. Let us not flatter ourselves, as if we would pluck out the eye of knowledge. ' God hideth his face, he vsdll never see us,' Ps. x. 11. For there is neither couch in chamber, nor vault in the ground; neither bottoms of mountains, nor holes of rocks ; neither secret friend, nor more secret conscience ; neither heaven nor hell, that can conceal us.

' Of him that sitteth.'—Christ now sits in glory. Wliile he was on earth, how little rested he ! He dearly earned that voice before he heard it,' Sit thou at my right hand :' now behold he sits. Good rest is the reward of good labom*. The week of our days spent, we shall have an eternal Sabbath: 'Enter into God's rest,' Heb. iii. 11. 'Rest from our labours,' Rev. xiv. 13. Hast thou laboured ? thou shalt have ease: hast thou travelled in the ways of grace ? thou shalt sit on the seat of gloiy.

' On the throne.'—Christ at this day shall appear in his true majesty. On earth he would not be crowned. The reason of his refusal was, ' My kingdom is not of this world.' Now he sits in his throne. He hath a kingdom here, but it is secret in the conscience : then it shall be conspicuous, ' sitting in his throne.' His majesty hath been despised ; but now, ' Bring those mine enemies that would not have me reign over them, and slay them before me,' Luke xix. 27.

Thus difiers Christ's fii'st coming and his second. Then in humility, now in glory ; then with poor shepherds, now with mighty angels ; then the contempt of nations, now the terror of the world; then crowned with thorns, now with majesty ; then judged by one man, now judging all men ; then in a cratch, now in a throne. You see his all-knowledge ; now for his almightiness.

2. ' From the wrath.'—The wrath of Christ in his justice : Attrihidtiir ira Deo per effectum. As man offended seeks revenge, so when God executes

judgment, it is called Lis -wTath. But passion in us, perfection in him. He hath long been provoked ; give him now leave to strilvc. You that made so light to trample his blood under your sensual feet, shall now find what his wrath is. Let us now think of this wrath, that wo may escape it. Tho commination of hell doth not less commend God's providence, than the promise of heaven. Nusi intentata esset rjehenna, omnes in rfehennam cadcremiis.* Now or never is this A^-ath to bo escaped : therefore, ' Kiss the son lest ho be angiT, and so ye perish from tho way; if his wi"ath be kindled, yea but a little, blessed are they that put their trust in him,' Ps. ii. 12.

* Of the Lamb.'—Christ was called a Lamb in his passion; so here in his coming to judgment, not that he should sulicr any more, but to shew that the same Lamb that was slain shall give sentence on his murderers. 'The Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son. And hath given him authority to execute judgment, because he is the Son of man,' John v. 22-27, so Acts xvii. 31, and Rev. i. 7. It shall aggi'avate their vexation, that the Lamb, who ofi'ered his blood for their redemption, shall now censure them for despising it. He that would have been their mediator to pray for them, and their advocate to plead for them, must now be their jvidge to sentence them. The Lamb that savcth the sheep on the right hand, shall cast off the goats on the left. The Lamb they have contemned, by this Lamb they shall be condemned. Woful men, whom the AATath of the Lamb lights on; for he shall give them an Ite, mcdcdicti. What shall then become of them, but to knock at the gates of heaven whiles those gates are standing, and ciy for ever to God, but to no pui-pose ?

I have no will to end A^dth a teiTor ; yet no time to sweeten your thoughts with those comforts which foith might suck from this last word, 'the Lamb.' I say no more. The godly shall find him a Lamb indeed, as willing now to save them, as before to suffer for them. He hath purchased, promised, and prepared a kingdom; and they shall ' reign with him that sits on the throne, and with the Lamb for evermore.' To whom be eternal glory I Amen.

Chrys.

HEAYEN-GATE;

OB,

THE PASSAGE TO PAEADISE.

* And may enter in through the gates into the city.' — Eev. XXII. 14.

If we supply these words with the first word of the verse, ' blessed,' we shall make a perfect sentence of perfect comfort. ' Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of hfe, and may enter in through the gates into the city.'

In the whole there be premises, and promises.

The premises qualify us ; we must be such as are blessed; and who are they? Quipr(pstantmandata, ' that do his commandments.' The promises crown us, and these are two : First, that we ' may have right to the tree of life,' even that which ' is in the midst of the paradise of God,' Kev. ii. 7. From whence the angel, with a flaming sword, shall keep all the reprobate ; secondly, Et j^er jwrtas ingrediantur civitateyn, ' and may enter in through the gates into the city;' when without shall be dogs and scorners, &c.; whosoever loveth and maketh a lie.

To the last words of the verse I have botind and bounded my discourse; wherein I find three points readily offering themselves to be considered, viz., 1. Motus, motion, 'enter in;' 2. Modus, manner, 'through the gates ;' 3. Tenniniis, place, ' into the city.

So there is a threefold circumstance.

1. Quid, What? an entrance.

2. Qua, How ? through the gates.

3. Quo, Whither ? into the city.

1. The motion. ' Enter in.'—They are blessed that enter in; perseverance only makes happy. Our labours must not cease till we can (with Stephen) see these gates open, and our Saviour offering to take us by the hand, and welcome our entrance. We know who hath taught us, that only ' contiuuers to the end shall be saved.' It is observable, that in the Holy Spirit's letters sent to those seven chui'ches, in the second and third chapter of this book, all the promises run to perseverers ; vincenti dabitur, to him that overcomes it shall be given. Nee 2'>aranti ad j^rcrlium, nee pugnanti ad sanguineni, multo minus tergiversanti ad peccatum, sed vincenti ad victoriam. Nor to him that prepares to fight, nor to him that resists to blood, much less to him that shews his back in cowardice, but to him that overcomes to conquest. Demas, seeing this war, ran away; fell back to the secuiity of

the world. SaiU made himself ready to this battle, but ho durst not fight —glory and lusts carried him away. Judas stood a bout or two, but the high priest's money made him give over, and the devil took him captive. But Paul fought out this combat even to victory, though ' he bore in hia body the marks of the Lord Jesus,' Gal. vi. 17. ' I have fought a good fight, I have finished my com-se, I have kept the faith; therefore now there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me,' 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8.

This is a good life, saith Bernard. Mala pad, et honafacere; et sicu.sque ad mortem perscverare, to sufler evil, to do good, and so to continue to the end. Some came into the vineyard in the morning, some at noon, others later; none received the penny but they that stayed till night. Augustine affirms this to be almost all the contents of the Lord's prayer: Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done.=:= Wherein we desire that his name may always bo sanctified, his kingdom always propagated, his will always obeyed.

Indeed this gi-ace perfects all graces. We believe in vain, if our faith hold not out to the end; we love in vain, if our charity grow cold at last; we pray in vain, if om* zeal gi-ows faint; we strive in vain at the strait gate, if not till we enter. Venire ad rcUfiiomm est vera devotio ; sed non rel'ujiose vlvere vera damnatio ; to come to the truth of religion is true devotion; not to live religiously is true damnation. Man is naturally like a horse that loveth short journeys, and there are few thjit hold out. "WTience it comes that the last are often first, and the first last. ' luiow ye not that they which nm in a race, run all, but one receiveth the prize ?' 1 Cor. ix. 24. He that hath a good horse can go faster up a hill than down a hill. He that hath a good faith doth as quickly ascend the Mount Zion, as the wicked descend to the valley of Hinnom. If men would as strongly erect themselves upwards, as they direct their courses do^vnwards, they might go to heaven with less trouble than they do go to hell.

But he that at every step looks at eveiy stop, and numbers his perils with his paces, either turns aside faintly, or turns back cowardly. They that go wandering and wondering on their journey, are at the gates of Samaria when they should enter the gates of Jerusalem. God saith, ' I ■will not leave you,' Heb. xiii. 5. Will you, then, leave God? One told Socrates that he would fain go to Ohonpus, but he distrusted his sufficiency for the length of the journey. Socrates told him—Thou walkest eveiy day little or much; continue this walk forward thy way, and a few days shall bring thee to 01}Tnpus. Every day eveiy man takes some pains. Let him bestow that measm-e of pains in travelling to heaven; and the further ho goes the more heart he gets, till at last he enter thi'ough the gates into the city.

Bernard calls perseverance the only daughter of the highest King, the perfection of virtues, the store-house of good works ; a virtue without which no man shall see God. f There is a last enemy to be destroyed— death. We must hold out to the conquest even of this last adversary, which, if it conquer us by the sting of our sin, shall send us to the doors of hell; if we conquer it by our faith, it shall send us to the gates of this city —heaven. Lauda navigantem cum pervenerit ad portion. All the voyage is lost thi'ough the perilous sea of this world, if we sufl'er shipwreck in the

* Aug. do Lono Perseverantifo, cap. 2.

t Per.severantia est unica summi Regis filia, virtutum consummatio, totius boiii repositorium, virtus sine qua numo videbit Deum.

haven, and lose our reward there, where we should land to receive it. Whai get we, if we keep Satan short of ruling us with his force many hours, when at our last hour he shall snatch our hliss from us ? The runner speeds all the way; but when he comes at the race's end to the goal, he etretcheth forth his hand to catch the prize. Be sure of thy last step, to put forth the hand of faith then most strongly: Ne jierdatur j^rmminm tantis lahorihus qucesitum; lest the reward he lost, y^^hich thou with much labour hast aimed at.

It is not enough, Qucerere ccclwn, seel acquircre; non Christum sequi, sed consequi: to seek heaven, but to find it; not to follow Christ, but to overtake him; not to be brought to the gates, but to enter in. ' Many will say to Christ in that day. Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name'?' Matt. vii. 22. But the ' Master of the house is fii'st risen, and hath shut to the door,' Luke xiii. 25. Either they come too soon, before they have gotten faith and a good conscience; or too late, as those foolish virgins, when the gate was shut. If, then, we have begun, let us continue to entrance."-''- Cujusqiie casus tantb majoris est criminis, quanto jjriusquam caderet, majoris erat virtutis. f Every man's fault hath so much the more discredit of scandal, as he, before he fell, had credit of virtue. Let us beware that we do not slide; if slide, that we do not fall; if fall, that we fall forward, not backward. ' The just man' often slips, and sometime ' falls,' Prov. xxiv. 16. And this is dangerous ; for if a man, while he stands on his legs, can hardly grapple with the devil, how shall he do when he is fallen down under his feet ? But if they do fall, they fall forward, as Ezekiel, Ezek. i. 28; not backward, as Eli at the loss of the ark, 1 Sam. iv. 18; or they that came to surprise Christ. ' They went backward and fell to the ground,' John x^dii. 6.

Cease not, then, thy godly endeavours, until Continfjas portum, quo tibi cursus erat. Say we not like the woman to Esdras, whether in a vision or otherwise, when he bade her go into the city—' That wiU I not do; I wiU not go into the city, but here I will die,' 2 Esd. x. 18. It is a wretched sin, saith Augustine, after tears for sin, not to preserve innocence. Such a man is washed, but is not clean. Quia commissa flere desinit, et iteruvi flenda committit. He leaves weeping for faults done, and renews faults worthy of weeping. Think not thyself safe, till thou art got within the gates of the city. Behold thy Saviour calling, thy Father blessing, the Spirit assisting, the angels comforting, the word directing, the glory inviting, good men associating. Go cheerfully, till thou ' enter in through the gates into the city.'

2. The manner. * Through the gates.'—Not singularly a gate, but gates. For the city is said to have ' twelve gates. On the east three gates, on the north three, on the south three, and on the west three,' Rev. xxi. 12 ; to declare that men shall come from all the corners of the world, ' from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God,' Luke xiii. 29. These gates are not literally to be understood, but mystically: Pro modo intrandi, for the manner of entrance. The gates are those passages, whereby we must enter this city.

Heaven is often said to have a gate. ' Strive to enter in at the strait

gate,' saith Christ, Matt. vii. 13. ' Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates, and be

ye lift up, ye everlasting doors,' saith the Psalmist, Ps. xxiv. 7. ' This

is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven,' saith

* That is, ' As far as entrance.'— Ed. f Isidor.

Jacob, Gen. xxviii. 17. There must bo gates to a city: tliey that admit us hither are the gates of grace. So the analogy of the words infer; doing the commandments is the way to have right in the tree of life ; obedience and sanctification is the gate to this city of salvation. In a word, the gate is grace ; the city is glory.

The temple had a gate called Beautiful, Acts iii. 2 ; but of poor beauty in regard of this gate. Of the gates of the sanctuary spake Davjd, in divers psalms, with love and joy. ' Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise,' Ps. c. 4. This was God's delight. ' The Lord loveth the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob,' Ps. kxxvii. 2. This was David's election, to be a porter or keeper of the gates of God's house, ' rather than dwell in the tents of wickedness,' Ps. Ixxxiv. 10. This his resolution: ' Our feet shall stand within thy gates, 0 Jerusalem,' Ps. cxxii. 2. Solomon made two doors for the entering of the oracle. They were made of ' olive trees, and wrought upon with the cai-vings of cherubins,' 1 Kings vi. 32. The olives promising fatness and plenty of blessings, the cherubins holiness and eternity. These are holy gates. Let ever}' one pray with that royal prophet, ' Open to me the gates of righteousness: I will go into them, and I will praise the Lord. This is the gate of the Lord, into which the righteous shall enter,' Ps. cxviii. 19, 20.

In brief, we may distinguish the gates leading to this city into two: adoption and sanctification. Both these meet in Christ, who is the only gate or door whereby we enter heaven. ' I am the door,' saith our Sa\'iour, janna vita, the gate of life; ' by me if auy enter in, he shall be saved,' John X. 9.

(1.) Adoption is the first gate. 'We have received the spirit of adoption,' Rom. viii. 15. Without this passage no getting into heaven. The inheritance of glory cannot be given to the children of disobedience ; they must first be converted, and adopted heu's in Christ. The gi-ace of God is twofold. There is gratia gratis agens, and gratia graium facicns. This second grace, which is of adoption, is never in a reprobate; not by an absolute impossibility, but by an indisposition in him to receive it. A spark of fire falling upon water, ice, snow, goes out; on wood, flax, or such apt matter, kindles. Baptism is the sacrament of admission into the congregation—of insition* and initiation, whereby we are matriculated and received into the motherhood of the church. Therefore the sacred font is placed at the church door, to insinuate and signify our entrance. So adoption is the fii'st door or gate whereby we pass to the city of glory.

This is our new creation, whereat the angels of heaven rejoice, Luke rv. 10. At the creation of dukes or earls there is great joy among men; but at our new creation angels and seraphins rejoice in the presence of God. Our generation was d non esse, ad esse —from not being, to be. But our regeneration is a, male esse, ad bend esse —from a being evil, to be well, and that for ever. Tkrough this gate we must pass to enter the city ; without this, death shall send us to another place. No man ends this life well, except he be bom again before he ends it. f

Now, if you would be sure that you are gone through this gate, call to mind what hath been your repentance. The first sign of regeneration is throbs and throes. You cannot be adopted to Christ without sensible pain, and compunction of heart for your sins. The Christian hath two buihs, and they are two gates. He can pass through none of them but with * That is, grafting.— Ed. t Aug.

anguish. Both our first and second birth begin with crying. Our first birth is a gate into this world ; our second is a gate into the world to come. There is some pain in both. For this world, but little joy after the pain; for the other, after short sorrow, eternal glory.

(2.) Sanctification is the second gate. ' Make your calling and election sui'e,' saith Peter, by a holy life : ' For so an entrance shall be ministered unto 3'ou abundantly, into the everlasting Idngdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,' 2 Pet. i. 11. But ' there shall in no wise enter enter into it any thing that defileth ; neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie,' Rev. xxi. 27. Therefore Paul prays the ' God of peace to sanctify us wholly,' 1 Thess. v. 23. Holiness is the way to happiness ; gi-ace the gate of glory. But some may object from that of Paul, that this sanctification must be total and perfect; but who can come so furnished to the gate ? therefore, who can enter the city ? I answer: There is required only sancti-ficatio vice, non jjatrice: such a sanctit}^ as the gate can afibrd, though far short of that within the city. The school distinguisheth well. It must be communiter in toto, etuniversaliter insinrjuUs ijartihus; but not totaliter et23er-fecte. This sanctification must be communicated to the whole man, and universally propagated to eveiy part, though it have in no place of man a total perfection. Indeed, nullum peccatum retinendum est spe remlssionis. No sin is to be cherished in hope of mercy. But we must strive for every grace we have not, and for the increase of every grace we have. Quceren-dum quod deest honum, induk/endum quod adest. Let us make much of that we possess, and still seek for more, ' striving to the mark,' Phil. iii. 14. And yet when all is done, profectio hoec, non j^erfectio est; we have made a good step forward, but are not come to our full home. But still, ' Lord, be merciful to me a sinner,' and ' enter not into judgment with us.'

Now, since this gate stands in om* own heart, give me leave to describe it, and that briefly, by its properties and its parts. Its properties are two-It is low and little.

[1.] Low.—Heaven is well called a 'building not made with hands,' 2 Cor. V. 1; for it difiers both in matter and fonn from earthly edifices. For matter, it is eternal, not momentary; for manner, fabricked Vv-ithout hands. Great manors on earth have large answerable porches. Heaven must needs be spacious, when a little star, fixed in a far lower orb, exceeds the earth in quantity; yet hath it a low gate, not a lofty coming in.

They must stoop, then, that will enter here. ' He hath filled the himgry with good things, and the rich he hath sent empty awaj,' Luke i. 53. The rich in their own conceits, and proud of their owa worth, shall be sent empty from this gate. Zaccheus chmbs up into a svcamore tree to behold Jesus ; but when Jesus beheld him got up so high, he said, * Come down, Zaccheus ; make haste, and come down,' Luke xix. 5. Whosoever will entertain Jesus, must come down. The haughty Nebuchadnezzar, that thinks with his head to knock out the stars in heaven, must stoop at this gate, or he cannot enter. Be you never so lofty, you must bend. God's honour must be preferred before your honour. It is no discredit to your worship to worship God.

[2.] Little.—Chi-ist calls it a * narrow gate,' Luke xiii. 24. They must be little that enter ; little in their own eyes, slender in the opinion of themselves. ' Wliosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein,' Mark x. 15. Samuel to Saul; 'When thou wast little in thine own sight, wast thou not made the head of the tribes of Israel ?' 1 Sam. xv. 17. When Jesse had made all his sons pass before

Samuel, he asked him if none remained yet. Jesse answers, Yes, a little one tending the flocks. ' Fetch that little one,' saith Samuel, ' fur we will not sit down till he come,' 1 Sam. xvi. 11. That httle one was he. Says the angel to Esdras, ' A city is built, and set upon a broad field, full of all good things, yet the entrance thereof is narrow,' 2 Esd. vii. 6. This is spatiosa ct speciosa civitas; A city beautiful and roomy ; yet it hath but a narrow wicket, a little gate.

Alas ! how will the surfeited epicure do to enter, whose gluttonous body is so deformed, that it moves like a great tun upon two pots ? "What hope hath an impropriator, with four or iive churches on his back, to pass this little gate"? The bribing oflicerhatha swollen hand, it will not enter; and the gouty usurer cannot thrust in his foot. The factious schismatic hath too big a head; the swearer such forked blasphemies in his mouth, that here is no entrance. Pride hath no more hope to get into the gates of that city above, than there is hope to cast it out the gates of this city below. Much good do it with earthly courts, for it must not come into the courts of heaven.

Think, 0 sinner; you cannot go with these oppressions, with these oaths, frauds, bribes, usuries, with these wickednesses, into the gates of this city. You must shift them off, or they will shut you out.

You hear the properties ; the parts are now to be considered, and these are four : The foundation, the two sides, and the roof, The foundation is Faith; one of the sides. Patience; the other, Innocence; the roof, CJiarilt/.

[l.J Faith is the foundation. * Be ye gi'ounded and settled in the fiiith,' Col. i. 23. Crcdendo fnndatiir, saith Augi;stine. It is grounded in faith. All other gi-aces are (as it were) built on this foundation. Credimus quod speramus: quod credimus et speramm, dili;/imus: quod credimus, speramus, et diligimus, operamur. "What we hope, we believe; what we believe and hope, we love; what we believe, hope, and love, we endeavour to attain. So all is built on faith.

Hope on faith. Nulla spes incrcditi: it is impossible to hope for that wo believe not to be. Charity on faith : why should a man give all to the poor, imless he believed an abundant recompence ? Repentance on faith : why else suffer we contrition for sin, if we believed not remission of sin ? Temperance on faith: why forbear we the pleasing vanities of the world, but that we behcve the transcendent joys of eternity, whereof these harlots would rob us ? Patience on faith : why would we endure such calamities with willing quietness and subjection, if we believed not an everlasting peace and rest to come ? All obedience on faith, that God would accept it in Jesus Christ. If all be built on fjiith, I may call it the basis and foundation of this gate. ' Without faith it is impossible to please God : for he that Cometh to God must beheve that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that dihgently seek him,' Heb. xi. G. Faith is the passage-way to God ; not one of that holy ensuing legend entered the city of life without this. He that hath faith shall enter : yea, he is entered. ' He hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed fi'om death to life,' John v. 24.

[2.] Patience is one of the pillars. ' Ye have need of patience ; that, when you have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise,' Hob. X. 36. That when you have sufl'ered before the gates, 3*0 may enter the city. There be three enemies that assault the soul befoi'e she enter the gates—a hon, a leopard, and a fox. The lion is tlio de^'il, whoroareth with hideous cries and bloody jaws, 1 Pet. v. 8. The leopard is the world,

which, hath a gay spotted hide ; but if it take lis within its clutches, it devours us. The fox is our concupiscence, bred in us, which craftily spoils our grapes, our young vines, oui* tender graces. Cant. ii. 15. Patience hath therefore an armed soldier with her, called Christian fortitude, to give repulse to all these encounters. And what he cannot feriendo, by smiting, she conquers/t';-e«fZo, by suffering. Vincit etiam dum jMtitur. She overcomes, even while she suffers. Patience meekly bears wrongs done to our own person ; fortitude encounters courageously wrongs done to the person of Christ. She will not yield to sin, though she die. She hath the spirit of Esther, to withstand things that dishonour God. ' If I perish, I perish,' Esth. iv. 6.

[3.] Innocence is the other pillar. As patience teacheth us to bear wrongs, so innocence to do none. Patience gives us a shield, but innocence denies us a sword. Ourselves we may defend, others we must not offend. Innocence is such a virtue, Qucecumaliis non nocet, nee sibi nocetA- Wlaich as it wrongs not others, so nor itself. He that hurts himself, is not iimo-cent. The prodigal is no man's foe but his own, saith the proverb ; but because he is his own foe, he is not innocent. Trhmiplms innocentice est non j^eccare ubi 2)otest.-\ It is the triumph of innocence not to offend where it may.

No testimony is more sweet to the conscience than this : ' Kemember, 0 Lord, how I have walked before thee in truth, and with a perfect heart,' Isa. xxxviii. 3. So Job, ' My heart shall not condemn me for my days.' I Blessed soul thus comforted. It smiles at the frowns of earth, and dares stand the thunder. Though there be no innocency but rejoiceth to stand in the sight of mercy ; yet thus in the midst of injmies it cheers itself, ' 0 Lord, thou knowest my innocence.' The wicked ' cover themselves with violence as with a garment,' Ps. kxiii. 6 ; therefore confusion shall cover them as a cloak. But ' blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth,' Matt. v. 5. That part of the earth they live in shall afford them quiet; and their part in heaven hath no disquiet in it. Si amoveantur, admoventur in locum, a quo non removentur in oeternum. If they be moved, they are moved to a place from whence they shall never be removed. ' I will wash mine hands in innocency: so will I compass thine altar, 0 Lord,' Ps. xxvi. 6. If innocence must lead us to the altar on earth, sure that must be our gate to the gloiy of heaven.

[4.] Charity is the roof, diligendo perficitur;^ love makes up the building. ' Now abideth faith, hope, and charity; but the greatest of these is charity,' 1 Cor. xiii. 13. It is a grace of the loveliest countenance, and longest continuance ; for countenance, it is amiable ; aU love it. The poor respect not thy faith so much as thy charity. For continuance, faith and hope take their leave of us in death ; but charity brings us to heaven-door, and ushers us into glory. I know not what to say more in thy praise, 0 charity, than ut Deum de ccdo traheres, et Iwminem ad ccelum elevares;'^ than that thou didst bring down God fi'om heaven to earth, and dost lift up man from earth to heaven. Great is thy virtue, that by thee God should be humbled to man, by thee man should be exalted to God.

You have the gates described. Let us draw a short conclusion fr'om these two former circumstances, and then enter the city.

* Augustine. f Seneca.

X A different rendering of chap, xxvii. 6 ; nearly the same with the marginal reading in the authorised version.— Ed.

§ Augustine. |1 Hugo de laude Charitatis.

The Sum. —There is no entrance to the city but by the gates ; no passage to glory but by gi-ace. The wall of this city is said to be great and high, Rev. xxi. 12. High, no climbing over ; gi-eat, no brealdiig tlirough. So Christ saith, ' No thief can brealc through and steal,' Matt. vi. 20. Therefore through the gates, or no way. ' Corruption doth not inherit in-corruption,' 1 Cor. xv. 50. This cornipted man must be regenerate that he may be saved ; must be sanctified that he may be glorified. Babel-builders may offer fair for heaven, but not come near it. The giants of oui" time, I mean the monstrous sinners, may, iinponere Pelion Ossa, lay rebellion upon presumption, treason upon rebclhou, blasphemy upon all, as if they would sink heaven with their loud and lewd ordnance, and pluck God out of liis throne ; but hell gapes in expectation of them. This gate is kept, as the gate of paradise, with a flaming sword of justice, to keep out ' idolaters, adulterers, thieves, covetous, di'unkards, revilers, extortioners,'

1 Cor. vi. 9; and other ' dogs' of the same Utter, ' from the kingdom of God,' Rev. xxii. 15.

Some trust to open these gates with golden keys; but bribeiy is rather a key to unlock the gates of hell. Let Rome sell what she list, and wan-ant it, like the seller in the Proverbs, ' It is good, it is good.' Yet it is naught; but were it good, God never promised to stand to the pope's bargains-Others have dreamed of no other gate but their own righteousness. Poor souls, they cannot find the gate, because they stand in their own hght. Others think to pass through the gates of other men's merits ; as well one bird may fly with another bird's wings. For all those hot promises of the works of saints for their ready money, they may blow their nails in hell.

Only grace is the gate. Per jjortam ecclesia; iiitramus ad 2^ortam Para-disiA' We must be true members of the church, or the door of life will be shut against us. Heaven is a glorious place, therefore reserved for gracious men. Admittt'ntnr ad spiiitus justonim, non 7iisi justL To thotjC 'spirits of just men made perfect,' Heb. xii. 23, must be admitted none save they that are justified. Kings are there the company; none of base and ignoble lives can be accepted. Heaven is the gi-eat ^Tiitehall, the court of the high King; none are entertained but Albi, such as are washed v/hite in the blood of Christ, and keep white then- own innocence. Ungracious offenders look for no dwelling in this glory. You that have so little love to the gates, are not worthy the ciiy. If you will not pass through the gates of holiness in this life, you must'not enter the city of happiness in the life to come. Thus we have passed the gates, and are now come to

3. The City.—Now if I had been, with Paul, rapt up to the third heaven,

2 Cor. xii. 2, or bad the ' angel's reed wherewith he measm-cd the wall,' Rev. xxi. 17, I might say something to the description of this city. But how can darkness speak of that light ? or the base country of eai'th describe the glorious court of heaven ? ' Glorious things are spoken of thee, 0 city of God,' Ps. Ixxxvii. 3. Glorious cities have been, and arc in the world. Rome was eminently famous; all her citizens like so many kings ; yet was it observed, illic homines man, that men did die there. But in this city there is no dying. Mors non erit \dtra, * There shall be no more death,' Rev. xxi. 4. I will narrow up my discourse, to consider in this city only thi-ee things ; (1.) its situation; (2.) its society; (3.) its gloiy.

(1.) Its Situation.—It is placed above; ' Jerusalem which is above is free, the mother of us all,' Gal. iv. 26. Heaven is in excelsis. ' His foundation is in the holy mountains,' Ps. Ixxxvii. 1. So was Jerusalem * Aug. Serm. 13C de Temp.

VOL. an ^

seated on earth to figure this city ; built of the ' quariy of heaven,' Dan. ii. ; 'on sapphires, emeralds, and chrysolites,' Rev. xxi. There is a heaven now over our heads, but it shall 'wax old as a garment,' Heb. i. 11. It is corniptible, and so combustible. This city is eternal; Mount Sion, never to be moved; a kingdom never to be shaken. We are now under this lower heaven, then this shall be under us. That which is our canopy shall be oui* pavement.

(2.) Its Society,—The king that rules there, is one Almighty God, in three distinct persons. He made this city for himself. ' In his presence is the fulness of joy, and pleasures at his right hand for evermore.' Ps. xvi. 11. If he gave such a house as this world is to his enemies, what, may we think, hath he provided for himself and his friends ? But will God dwell there alone ? He is never alone ; himself is to himself the best and most excellent company. Nevertheless, he vouchsafes a dwelling here to some citizens, and these are either created so, assumed, or assigned.

[1.] Created citizens are the blessed angels; who, from their first creation, have enjoyed the freedom of this city. They stand always in the presence of God ; they can never lose their happiness.

[2.] Assumed; those whose spirits are already in heaven. There ' are the spirits of just men made perfect,' Heb. xii. 23. They are already in soul taken up, and made free denizens of this city.

[3.] Assigned; the elect that live in the militant church, waiting for the day of their bodies' redemption; crying still. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ! These are conscripti, ' wi'itten in the Lamb's book of life,' Rev. xd. 27. Now, though we are not already in full possession, because our apprenticeship of this life is not out; yet we are aheady citizens. * Ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God,' Eph. ii. 19; and we have three happy privileges of citizens.

First, Lihertas; freedom from the law; not from obedience to it, but from the curse of it. Prastemtis quod j^ossumus: quod noii possumus, non damnabit. Let us keep so much of it as we can; what we cannot keep shall not condemn us. Liberty in the use of these earthly things ; heaven, earth, air, sea, with all their creatures, do us service. ' Whether things present, or things to come, aU are yours; and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's,' 1 Cor. iii. 22.

Secondly, Tutela imperii; the king's protection, Angelis mandavit. ' He hath given his angels charge over us, to keep us in all our ways,' Ps. xci. 11. Is this all? No. 'He covers us with his feathers, and under his wings do we trust; his truth is oui' shield and our buckler,' ver. 4. Our dangers are many in some places, and some in all places; we have God's own guard royal to keep us. They ' are sent from God to minister for their sakes, which shall be heirs of salvation,' Heb. i. 14. I need not determine whether any particular person hath his particular angel. St Augustine hath well answered, ' Quando hoc nesciatur sine crimine, non opus est ut definiatur cuvi discriynine.' -'^ Since our ignorance is no fault, let us not trouble ourselves with curious discussion. Bernard directs us to a good use of it: ' Quantum debet hoc tibi infeire reverentiam, afferre devo-tionem, conferre fiduciam.' The consideration of the guard of angels about us, should put into our minds reverence, into our hearts devotion, into our souls confidence.

. Thirdly, De/ensio Legis; the defensive protection of the law. Chiist is * Encliirid. cap. 59.

our advocate. ' Wlio shall lay any thing to tho charge of God's elect ? It is God that justificth,' Rom. viii. 33. We are impleaded; Paul appeals to Cajsar, we to Christ. The devil accuseth us, we are far remote : behold our Counsellor is in heaven, that will not let our cause fall, or be overtln-own. ' If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous,' 1 John ii. 1.

Thus are we citizens in present, shall be more perfectly at last. We have now right to the city; we shall then have right in tho city. We have now a purchase of the possession, shall then have a possession of the pm'chase. ' Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with mo where I am, that they may behold my gloiy, which thou hast given,' John xvii. 24. This is oui* Saviom-'s will and testament, and shall not be broken.

The company then adds to the glory of this city. We are loath to leave this world for love of a few friends, subject to mutual dislikes ; but what then is the delight in the society of saints; where thy glorified self shall meet with thy glorified friends, and your love shall be as everlasting as your glory. There be those angels that protected thee; those patriarchs, prophets, apostles, martyrs, that by doctrine and example taught thee; yea, there is that blessed Saviour that redeemed thee. Often here with groans and tears thou seekest him, ' whom thy soul loveth;' lo, there he shall never be out of thy sight.

(3.) Its Glory.— Non viihi si centum lingua;. If I had a hundred tongues, I was not able to discourse thoroughly the least dram of that ' inestimable weight of glory.' The eye hath seen much, the ear hath heard more, and the heart hath conceived most of all. But ' no eye hath seen, nor ear heard, nor heart apprehended the things which God hath prepared for them that love him,' 1 Cor. ii. 9. Augustine, after a stand, Beus hahet quod exhi-heat.'<' God hath something to bestow on you. If I say we shall be satiate, you will think of loathing ; if we shall not be satiate, you will think of hunger. But ihi nee/antes, nee fast idium: there is neither hunger nor loathing. Sed Deus habet quod exhiheat. No sooner is the soul within those gates but she is glorious. Simileni sihi reddit infjredientem. Heaven shall make them that enter it, like itself, glorious : as the air by the sun's brightness is transformed bright. Quanta felicitas, ubi nullum erit malum, nullum deerit bonum! How great is that blessedness, where shall be no e\il present, no good absent! This is a blessed city.

Men are ambitious here, and seek to be free of great cities, and not seldom buy it dearer than the captain bought his burgess-ship.f But no such honour as to be denizens of this city; whereof once made free, how contemptibly they will look at the vain endeavours of worldly men ! Think, beloved, j^ea, know; how sweet soever the gains of this lower city be, it is yet far short of the gains of heaven. And you will one day say, There is no city to the city of God, where ' shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor ciying, nor any more pain,' Rev. xxi. 4. Death, with all his apparitors, that cites the whole world to his court, sorrow, cryhig, pain, shall be no more. ' They shall persecute you from city to city,' saith Christ, Matt. X. 23, till at last we come to this city, and then out of their reach.

0 that this clay of ours should come to such honour ! Well may we

sufler it to endure the world's tyranny, and to be afflicted by the citizens

thereof; alas, we are but apprentices, and they will use us hardly till our

years be out. When that day comes, we shall be free possessors of this city.

* In Job. Horn. 3. t Acts xxii. 28.— Ed.

You hear now the gate and the city, what should you do but enter ? Pass through the gate of grace, a holy and sanctified life, and you shall not fail of the city of gloiy; whither once entered, you shaU sing as it is in the psalm, Sicut aitdivimus, ita et vidimus: As we have heard, so have we seen in the city of our God. We see that now which was preached to us ; yea, and ten thousand times more than ever could be uttered. You shall say to Christ, as the Queen of Sheba to Solomon : ' I heard much of thy glory; but, behold, the one half was not told me,' 1 liings x. 7. You saw Jerusalem before in a map, now you shall walk through its streets, and observe its towers and bulwarks, fully complete its glory. But my discourse shall give way to your meditation. The joys are boundless, endless : the Lord make us free of this city! Amen.

MEDITATIONS UPON SOME PART OF THE

CREED.

I BELIEVE IN God.

The first tiling in the order of eveiy building is to lay tlae foundation sure ; no architect intends to leave there, but he is no good architect that doth not begin there. First, let us be thoroughly gi-ouuded in the truth of religion ; and then not be detennined and shut up in the rudiments, but gi'ow on in knowledge. The end of our ministerial function is not to give satisfaction to curious hearers, but to breed devotion, and bring salvation to humble souls. This age is strangely transported with an humorous appetite to novelties, and rather affecteth variety of toys than a constancy of plam and sober truth. The contrivers of the poHcy of the Komish Church knew too well how the people would be earned with imagination. Therefore they demised such change of ceremonies, their poetical metamoi-phoses, transubstantiation, masses like masks, elevations like interludes, processions like the measm-es of a dance; their friars of so many colours, hke a painter's apron; their legends of saints, like the tales of the Imight of the sun, or the queen of the fairies, all to please imagination. Their churches Uke theatres, their images hke motionless actors—a histrionical rehgion, yet pleasing to the eye, and taking the fancy. Their antipodes, the novelists, take the same course. The wholesome doctrine of the text, as too famiUar to common preachers, they often qmte forsake, and pick out crochets, paradoxes, strange and improper conclusions, as the only way to^ their own credit and profit, by fomenting the imagination. Yea, such is the wantonness of our auditories, the gi-een sickness of the people's humour, that sound food is vilipended, and they must have quirks to please imagination. From hence it comes that so many crudities oppress their Bouls, that so many fumes and giddy vapoui's fly up into their heads, that so many hot spu-its, like over-laden cannons, recoil against discipline, break out into factions, and with the splinters of their cracked opinions, do more mischief than deliberate doctrine or disciphne can easily cure. But is this the way to be saved ? Will the flashes of a luxurious wit build men up to the kingdom of heaven ?

To the fomidation, then. Without which gi-oundwork, errors will be admitted for truth, and the pride of supposed Icnowledge fortify the heart against knowledge. I know not whether, through the frequency of preach-

ing or rareness of catechising, this latter is grown into contempt. He that is but a little turned of eight in the morning, past a child, thinks himself too high for this form. To be examined the reason of his faith he is ashamed, as if the doctrine of grace were a disgrace, and men were ashamed of nothing so much as to learn. It would not be thus.

I believe in God. —There be some perambulatory things that I will but salute, as, first, the name of the creed, which it seems to take from the first word, credo, as the Lord's prayer, from the two first words, is called the pater-noster. In other languages, symbolum, which may signify a sliot, which is, when every man pays his part of the reckoning, the sum of all, or a badge, as a soldier is known by his colours to what captain he belongs. This distinguisheth Christians fi'om unbelievers or misbelievers. Or a ring, the metal whereof is digged out of the golden mines of the gospel, and (as we receive it) formed by the blessed apostles. Many are curious, some superstitious, in keeping their nuptial ring. To lose that they hold ominous. But look to thy faith; for if that be cracked by misHving, or lost by misbelieving, thou losest thy interest in Jesus Christ. Secondly, the authors, the apostles; because it is theirs for the matter, though not for the manner. So it is the word of God, though not the Scripture of God— not sovereign, but subordinate—not protocanonical scripture, yet the key of the holy Scripture.* The abridgment of that gospel which Christ taught the apostles, the apostles taught the church, and the church in all ages hath taught us. The plain and absolute sum of holy faith, so comprising Ihe doctrine of the new covenant, that it may be familiar to the weakest •capacity, and retainable by the fi'ailest memory. Not long, not obscure, ne dum instruat mentem, oneret memoriam.f

There be two main things; first, the act, which is to believe; the other, the object to be believed, which are all the ensuing articles concerning both God and the church. Therefore credo must be applied to every article; for fides est tota cojndativa, he that looks for good by any, must hold all.

Faith is generally an acknowledgment and assent to the truth, James ii. 19. It is either common to all; such is an historical faith, which is in the devils themselves, and temporary faith, that will always keep the warm side of the hedge, never windward. Christ is little beholden to that faith, and that faith shall be little beholden to Christ. Or peculiar to the elect, which is a supernatural gift of God, whereby we apprehend the promise of life, and are persuaded of our own salvation by Christ. First, a gift of God, not brought with us, but wrought in us. Let none be so sottish as to think the faith whereby they shaU be saved was bred and bom in them, for it is the fair gift of God. * I was born in sin,' saith David, Ps. li. 5; in sin, not in faith. Sin is hereditary, not faith. That I cannot but have from my earthly parents ; this I cannot have but fi'om my heavenly Father. Secondly, supernatural; not only above that nature wherein we were bom, but even above that nature wherein our first parents were made. Above corrupted nature, yea, above created nature. The state of innocence neither had, nor had need of, faith in Christ. But so soon as man was fallen he wanted a Redeemer, and to obtain redemption he must have faith. So it belongs not to generation but to regeneration. It is a new gi*ace taught in the new covenant of grace. Other gi-aces, in our conversion, are but renewed; our knowledge, love, obedience, aU renewed ; but this faith is not renewed, but in our conversion takes its first being. Thirdly, whereby we apprehend. This is properly an action of the hand, and faith is the spi-* Ambr. f Aug.

ritual hand of a Christian. Fourthly, the promise of life ; for if there were no promise tlicre could be no faith. Fifthly, and are persuaded of oui* o\vii salvation by Christ. This is no opinion, no atl'ection, but a persuasion, not of others' salvation (the devils believe that God will save some), but of our owTi, and that only by Jesus Christ.

1 believe. —/, not ice. First, because every one best knows his own heart, and therefore can make best confession of his own faith. Secondly, no man can be saved by another's faith, but by his own only, Hab. ii. 4. Charity is of a great latitude, embracing all; faith looks to a man's self. I must put all men in my paternoster, only myself in my creed. Pray I must for others, believe for myself. In my believing, I plead mine own cause ; in my praying, I plead also the cause of all my brethren. So no man's faith can do me good, but mine own. I may be the better for another man's charitj^; the magistrate's justice may do me right; the knowledge of the learned may instruct me ; but none of all their faiths can save me. Am I the fatter for the meat another eats ? Or refreshed by his sleep, when rest leaves me ? Can another's soul animate my body, when its own forsakes it ? Shine the sun never so clear, if we be blind we are still in darkness. The Lord of life conversed wdth the Jews, yet wei'e they still dead, through want of faith. The alms is bountiful, but what if we have no hand to receive it ? The fountain of Christ's blood is open, but faith is the friend that must put us in, or we perish.

hi God. —There be three degrees or diti'erences of believing, credere Deum, Deo, in Deum.* First, To believe there is a God ; and no man possibly can thiiist this faith out of his heart. Secondly, To believe God; that is, to acknowledge his word for tnith. Thus far go even reprobates, but this faith cannot save them. Not that it in Jidcs fwta (1 Tim. i. 5), by way of similitude : as a histrionical king is called a king, or the picture of a man, a man; for this is a true faith, but not sufficient to save. Nor that it is Jides informis, because it wants charity, which the Romanists would have to be the foim of ftiith. Nor that it is extorta ct coacta, enforced from the clear evidence of things; for all faith is voluntary, if we believe St Augustine.f But a defective faith, because it applies not the merits of Christ to a man's self. Thirdly, To believe in God, or on God, or into God; to acknowledge him our God, and to place our whole confidence in him. We say, credimus Paulo, but not in Paulmn; but credi-mus Deo, et in Deum. I believe he is, I believe he is good, I believe he is good to me. Faith is a kind of thing infra scientiam, supra opinionem: scientia habet cor/nitionern, opinio dubitationem ; inter has duas Jides est media.X Faith is neither a certain science, nor a doubtful opinion; but a middle natm'e between them, admitting neither of demonsti'ation nor hesitation.

For better declaration of this heavenly gi-ace, faith, I refer you to that lively expression of St Paul, ' I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless I live: yet not I, but Christ liveth in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh, I Hve by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me,' Gal. ii. 20. Of which w^ords, admit this short paraphrase, * I am cmciiied with Christ.' But Christ was crucified with two malefactors, Paul was none of them. He was at the foot of Gamaliel, not at the foot of the cross on Mount Calvar}'. Had he been there, he would rather have helped to crucify Christ than jnelded to be crucified with

* Aug. t ^e Spir. et Lit. cap. 32.

X Alex. Hal. Destruct. vitio., par. 6, cap. 32.

Christ. How, then, is he cnicified with Christ ? Not as a man consisting of body and sonl, but as a sinner canying about him the body of death. To understand this, consider two things: First, That Christ on the cross was not a private, but a pubhc, person; what he did and suffered there, we did and suffered in him. As the first Adam did not sin only for himself, but for all that should come from him ; so the second Adam did not die at all for himself, but for all that should come unto him. Secondly, There is a real donation of Christ to us, and a spiritual union of us to Christ, whereby he is made as indissolubly ours as if we had been crucified in our own persons. Such is the power of faith, that we who were the causes of his death shall be made partakers of his life.

' Nevertheless I live.' I am not abolished as a creature, but only crucified as a sinful creatm-e. This is not an annihilation of my being, but a reformation of my former being. I am not what I was, nor whose I was. Not what I was : I was Saul a persecutor, I am Paul a professor; I was a sin-lover, I am a sin-hater; I am not what I Vv^as from my natural mother, but a new thing from my supernatm'al Father. Not whose I was : I was Satan's kennel, I am Christ's temple; I am cracified and dead to what I was, I live to what I was not; but now death and life are opposites, and there is no passing from one to the other but by a medium, and that is faith. Three things bring death to the soul by sin : First, its guilt, which makes us liable to condemnation. Secondly, its filth, which makes both our persons and all our actions odious. Thirdly, its punishment, which is death, in the extent of body and soul, and that for ever. With this three-forked sceptre did sin reign over all the sous of men. The tree of life affords us a threefold antidote against this threefold death. First, the life of justification ; the righteousness of Chi'ist cancelling the obligation of the law, and acquitting us from the sentence of condemnation. Secondly, the life of sanctification, regenerating every part and faculty of us by a supernatural vutue derived from Christ, infusing new principles. Thirdly, the life of joy and cheerfulness, which made Job exult and Paul insult over all calamities, as more than conquerors. So that we are dead to those sins which did kill us, and we live to that glory which shall crown us.

'And yet not I.' Not I? who then? what contradictions be these? First, I speak, and move, and write, yet I am dead. Can a dead man perform these actions ? For a man to be dead, and to toll others he is so, implies a contradiction. But grant him dead, and there is an end; for death is the end of all. Nay, but hear him again, ' nevertheless I hve.' This is a short death, that is so soon turned to life. Or is he both at once ahve and dead, dead and alive, at the same instant ? Yes, Paul is dead, and Paul lives ; peccant Paul is dead, believing Paul lives. Dead quatemts subditus 2^eccato, alive quatenus insitns Christo. Well, then, let his last word stand, he lives. ' Yet not I.' Here is another contradiction. Is not a man that he is, himself? Can he be made sti'ong by the strength of another ? or rich by the wealth his neighbom- possesseth ? or can another's honour ennoble him ? No ; yet he may live by the life of another. No soul can animate this body but mine own, yet neither body nor soul can live but in and by God. Thus doth he annihilate himself, that he may omnify his Master, that Christ may be all in all. So it follows;—

'But Christ liveth m me.' Christ is the fountain and root of all spiritual life, having it so superabundant in himself, that he conveys it to all his members. He is Frinceps vitce (Acts iii. 15); yea, Principiuni vitce. He that begins not to take life from Christ shall never Hve; he that doth

shall never die. Now, he lives in ns hy virtue of his union with us, which is both a spiritual and a substantial union, whereby the person of the believer is made one with the person of the Saviour. Neither is this incredible to reason; for if, by virtue of a civil contract, the husband and wife be one flesh, though sundered by many miles, the one being in this land, the other beyond sea, yet still they are caro una, why may not Christ and the believer be one spirit, though ho be in heaven and we on earth ? He lives in us as the root lives in the branches, as the head lives in the members. The soul doth not more properly enliven the body, than he doth quicken both body and soul. Take away the soul from the flesh, earth becomes earth; sever Christ from the soul, it is but a dead carrion. According to the nearness or remoteness of the sun, elementary bodies be either light or dark, hot or cold. Christ is that ' Sun of righteousness' to our souls; his absence leaves us dead, his presence revives us. The believer can never perish, unless life itself could die.

' Christ lives in me.'—But can we all say, Christ lives in us? Neither speak I of gi'oss sinners, not grafted into Christ; but even to those that applaud themselves in their holy portion, and look to be saved. Why do they suck on the breasts of this world, and seek to solace themselves in vanities ? Is not the hfe of Christ in us above all sweetness ? Are not the gi-apes of Canaan satisfying enough, but we must long for the onions of Egypt ? ^Vliy should we look unto Phai-phar, that have Jordan ? He that hath the U\ing waters of Jesus flowing in his heart, is mad if he stonp to the puddles of vanity, or seek content in the world. Yea, such a one will scarce descend to lawful pleasm-es, but for God's allowance, and nature's necessity; and then but as the eagle, who lives aloft, and stoops not to the earth but for her prey; or as Gideon's soldiers, to sup his handful, not to swill his bell}4'ul. I deny not oil, and wine, and recreation; but we must not hve by these, but by Christ. He that is come to man's estate, throws away rattles and babies: the philosopher could be merry without a fiddle ; as one of them told the musicians, ottering their service, that philosophers could dine and sup -without them. How much more may the Chi-istian rejoice without a playfellow ? He hath holy meditations of the forgiveness of his sins, peace and reconciliation with God ; and to break ofl' this for the entertainment of vanity, is more absm-d, than for a husband to leave his fair and chaste wife, peerless for beauty and innocency, for the embraces of a black and stigmatical strampet. We have generous and noble delights, angelical pleasm-es; what should discomfort us ? ' Jesus Christ hves in us.'

'And the life which I now live in the flesh.'—By flesh, he means here, not the corruption of nature, but the mortal body. It is one thing to live in the flesh, another thing to hve to the flesh. To hve in the flesh, is a dying life ; to live to the flesh, is a Hving death. By none of these hves tho beUever; but by another, a better, a surer, which as he hath aliunde, from another place; so he lives after another manner; it is caVdus in-spirata, and so called coolest is vita: ' our conversation is in heaven,' Phil, iii. 20. Of moles of the earth, this makes us souls of heaven ; of snaUs, dromedaries. How impossible did it seem before to us, that we should be persuaded to deny the world, to forsake ourselves, to condemn our own pleasures '? We thought it as easy for stones to chmb mountains, or for iron to swim. Yet this new life of faith doth naturalize these holy afiec-tions to us ; Christ working upon us, as the sun doth on the vapour ; of a gross, heavy, and squahd substance, it makes it hght and aerial, apt to

ascend to the middle region. To outward duties go botli the natural and spiritual man ; but with what difference of affections, of success ? A bear goes not more unwillingly to the stake, nor a galley-slave to the oar, nor a truant to school, than the one. The other, willingly, cheerfully, as being (not driven with fear, but) ' led by the Spirit of God,' Rom. viii. 14. The manner of guidance is indeed aymia, a mighty motion, but no coactive violence ; for Christ moves the will, and makes it ducible. ' Draw us, we will run after thee,' Cant. i. 4; we will run, not go with an ordinary motion, but run, disdaining all paces but the swiftest. He draws us, but with our wills. AUter trahitur claudus ad inandhnn, aliter reus ad supi^licium.'^ There is gi-eat difference between these two attractions ; of a lame man to his dinner, and of a guilty malefactor to his execution. This new life is a new internal prmciple ; which is like a spring to the watch, or oil to the wheels, to make the motion quick and permanent.

' Now.'—This distinction of time hath a double reference ; like Janus, it looks both ways, to the time past, and the time future, though it speak of the time present. First, to the time past; this is not such a life as I did hve before : that was to the flesh, this is but in the flesh. In the former state I was dead, now I live. How many live and die, before they come to St Paul's nunc ? They consume their days in time-eating vanities, and the greatest part of their life is the least part wherein they have hved. Oh that they would recollect themselves, and be sure of this nunc, to say, ' Now I live,' before they go hence, and cease living! It is never too late, you say; but, I am sure, it is never too soon, to begin this life. Be not like truants, that slubber out their books, before they have learned their lessons. Secondly, to the time to come; now, I live by faith, I shall not so live always. * Now abides faith, hope, and charity,' 1 Cor. xiii. 13. Now, two of these shall cease one day. I now live by faith, I shall live by vision; now by the expectation of hope, hereafter by the possession of glory. Faith is now the queen, and charity the handmaid that waits upon her. The damsel attends upon Judith through the gates of the city, through the watches of the army, through all dangers and passages, till she comes to the tyrant's chamber door : there she is not suffered to enter ; Judith goes in alone, and by her own hand delivers Israel; the waiting woman hath not a stroke in it, Judith xiii. Faith is this gi'eat lady, charity her handmaid ; through all the actions of goodness she attends on her mistress; when faith sets down the objects of her beneficence, love is her secretaiy; when she disposeth her good deeds, love is her almoner; when she treats a league of peace with her neighbours, love is her ambassador; what work soever she undertakes, charity is her instrument. But when it comes to the point of justification, to enter the presence chamber of the gi'eat liing, to procure remission of sins, imputation of righteousness, and peace of conscience, here charity leaves her to herself, and hath not a finger in that business. Thus is it now. But hereafter, these two shall change places; charity shall be the lady, and faith the waiting-woman. When the soul is to be discharged out of prison, and moves to the high coui't of heaven, faith waits upon her all the way; but at the presence-chamber of gloiy, faith stays without, and love only enters. Yet though faith and hope, at last, perish in the act, they shall never perish in the effect; for we shall enjoy what we have both believed and hoped.

* I live by the faith of the Son of God.'—It is called the faith of Christ First, because he is the revealer of it; neither nature nor the law opened

* Aug.

the door of faith, but the Son of God ; it belongs to the gospel. ' The law came by Moses, but grace and truth came by Christ Jesus,' John i. 17. Secondly, because he is the author of it: the ' founder and finisher of our faith,' Heb. xii. 2, Thirdly, because he is the object of it; faith desires ' to know nothing, but Christ crucified.'

This faith is the means of this life ; sin divides us from Christ, faith reunites us. We live primarily and properly by Christ, as the body lives by the soul. Mediately or instrumeutally by faith, as by the spirits, which are the bond of soul and body. As the leg or ami lives by the proper sinews, veins, arteries, whereby it is united to the head, heart, and liver, those more noble parts, so faith is that special ligament that knits us on earth to Christ in heaven. ' He that hath the Son hath life ;' and he that hath faith hath the Son. By this Paul doth here challenge Christ for his own (as it were), engi'ossing the common God, as if he were his and nobody's else. It is well observed by a worthy divine, •■'■ that faith is a wonder-worker, and hath a kind of omnipotence in it; that it can remove mountains, command the sun to stand still, raise the dead, animating it with an ever-living spirit. So that the potent works, which indeed only Christ doth, are attributed to faith. It is he that, by the power of his death, deadeth sin in us ; and of his resurrection quickeneth us. Yet faith is said to mortify, faith to vivify, faith to purify, faith to justify, faith to sanctify, faith to save us. It is the poorest of all wtues, therefore of all virtues God most honoureth it: respexit Inanilitatem, as the blessed virgin sung, Luke i. 48. Love is more noble ; it is a meaner act to believe, than to love. Charity is a rich giver, faith but a beggarly receiver. Yet thus hath it pleased God to honour this virtue, so quite out of request with the world, that we shall live by that, and all other graces shall be beholden to it. Maiy Magdalene had done much for Christ, washed his feet with her tears, and dried them with her hairs, anointed him with spikenard; and he commends her for all these ; but there was another thing that saved her, to which all the rest yield, her faith : ' Thy faith hath saved thee.' Not thy sorrow melting in tears, not thy humility kneeling in the dust, not thy charity in the expense of that precious unguent; none of these hath saved thee : but ' thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace,' Luke ^ii. 50. Nor yet in this do we sacrilegiously robe the servant in the divine honours of her sovereign ; yea we say, if faith knew any arrogance against her master, or insolence against her fellows, she were no more faith. But while we magnify faith, we reflect all upon Christ, who justifies the imperfection of our believing with the perfection of his deserving. It is for the honour of the Son of God, that we live by His faith ; as notwithstanding our eyes, we are beholden to the sun for seeing the light.

* AVho loved me.'—The foundation of all good to man, is the love of God. A love without all in^^tation, or the least merit in the object. We love nothing, but either there is, or we suppose there is, some goodness in it. God loved us, when he knew there was no good thing in us. The motive of our love is from without us, the cause of God's loving is within himself. We love a man because he is good ; God loves a man because himself is good, though the man were stark naught. Our love doth not make a thing good, but embraceth it as being good before ; but that which before was bad, God's love maketh good, llahct in se Dciis quud (lilir/at, invenit in nobis quod puniat. God hath the matter of love in himself, the cause of punishment he finds in us.

♦Chr 8.

' We were in worse case than the wounded man, upon whom the Samaritan shewed mercy, Luke x. There was some reason why he should pity him. First, because he deserved not that unjust measure at their hands, that robbed him. Secondly, the Samaritan himself might happen to be in the like distress ; therefore he tendered that compassion he desired to find. But first, God saw that we deserved that damnable estate wherein we lay; and that not one dram of sorrow was put into the potion more than we merited to drink oif. Secondly, Himself could never be in the like case, sitting in heaven, far enough out of the reach of misery and mischief; yet he loved us.

' Loved me.'—It may be so : Paul had good experience of his love, by a miraculous conversion, a supernatural rapture and revelation. Yea, but he doth not engross all this love to himself, but rather speaks in the person of all believers; teaching us to pledge him in that saving cup, wherein he had begun to us so hearty a draught. Thou that art born in a time and place where the gospel flourisheth, and Christ is continually preached to thy conscience, must needs confess that God hath loved thee. Indeed, the imbelieving pagan and the misbelieving papist cannot conclude to themselves thus comfortably. But when I consider my illumination, the clear means of my redemption, the evidence and demonstration of those invaluable treasures of mercy opened to my heart, I must acknowledge that God hath loved me. If he had not loved me, he would never have done thus for me. If the Israelites so applauded their own happiness, by being the depositories of the oracles of God—' He hath shewed his statutes to Jacob: the heathen have not the knowledge of his laws,' Ps. cxhdi. 20; if they thought themselves so blessed in having the law, which Saint Paul calls the * ministration of death,'—how are we bound to him for the gospel, ' the ministry of salvation ?' This is the voice of that faith which shall save us ; ' he hath loved me.' Charity rejoiceth that God hath loved also others ; faith, that he had loved me. Charity prays for others, faith believeth for a man's self.

'And given himself for me.'—This indeed is a sound proof of his love : ' Greater love hath no man than this, to give his life for his friends.' ' Given:' We were never able to purchase him; all the treasures of the world were trash and rubbish in comparison of him. 'Himself:' not a man, nor an angel, but himself. As when ' God had no gi-eater to swear by, he sware by himself;' so when he had no greater to give, he gave himself. ' This is a true saying, and worthy of all men to be received,' 1 Tim. i. 15 : a gracious gate to a glorious building! Prefaces are ordinary in the Scriptures ; this is no ordinary preface. Without preface it should be received; where the ware is good, there needs no sign. Many things may be worth looking on ; this is ' worthy to be received.' Like the ark, it makes a man, and his house, and all blessed that receive it. It is thankful, and requites them that receive it, as Christ made Zaccheus a liberal amends for his entertainment. It is worthy to be received ' of all men,' and with all faculties of soul. Worthy of the intellective part. Nothing more excellent to be known : ' I determined to know nothing among you, but Christ crucified,' 1 Cor. ii. 2. Worthy of the affective part ; nothing more dearly to be loved: ' Sweeter than honey and the honey-comb ;' more precious than ' thousands of gold and silver.' When the body and soul cannot hang together, this comforts us. Worthy of the executive powers, for it beauti-fieth and graces all our actions. Worthy to be bought with all labour, with expense of goods, with expense of bloods. He that hath this faith, how

doth he vilipend the world's three gi'cat mistresses—profit, honour, pleasure ? The Lord gives many temporal benelits to reprobates; sutlers a wicked Haman to be a great emperor's favourite; lets a Nabal wallow in his golden dung ; fills the belly of a profane Esau. But he gives Chi-ist to none but those whom in Christ ho loves for ever.

By this that hath been spoken, we may well rehsh the sweetness of faith. Now take some useful directions about it.

First, Learn to know God: ' How shall we believe on him we have not known ?' Rom. x. 14. It is not the bare rehearsal of the creed that can save a man's soul. ICnowledge is not so much slighted here, as it will be wished hereafter. The rich man in hell desires to have his brethren taught, Luke xvi. 28. Sure, if he were ahve again, he would hire them a preacher. * The people are destroyed for lack of knowledge,' Hos. iv. 6. If we see a proper man cast away at the sessions for a non ler/it, with pity we conclude he might have been saved, if he could have read. At that general and last assizes, when Christ shall ' come in flaming fii-e,' with thousands of angels, woe be to them that ' know not God,' 2 Thess. i. 8. For' he will pour out his fury upon the heathen, that know him not, and upon the families that call not on his name,' Jer. x. 25. It is the fashion of this intemperate age to shuffle the cards, while they should search the Scriptures ; to spend more upon cooks than books ; till they buiy the soul alive, in the sepulchre of a blind and sensual flesh. Jonathan's eye ' waxed dim with fasting;' our intellectual eye is put out with feasting. Om* means is liberal, but we will not allow omrselves to know; like those that have a free school in the town, yet never a one can say his cross-row.•-'= Or, if some can spell, yet ' understandcst thou what thou readest ?' Acts viii. 30. Submit thyself to a teacher ; for if thou diest in ignorance, thou canst not die in faith. If a stranger be setting his pace and face toward some deep pit, or steep rock— such a precipice as the clifis of Dover—how do we cry aloud to have him return ? yet in mean time forget the course of our own sinful ignorance, that headlongs us to confusion. Do we not expect from them most work to whom we have given most wages ? Do we not look that a frank pasture should yield fat sheep ? How then shall we answer God, for his cost and charges to save us ?

Secoiidh/, Let us acknowledge our unbelief. Though we little suspect it, there is none of us whose heart is not full of infidelity. There can be no greater indignity offered to God than not to take his word, which is not to believe him. How doth animated dust scom such a distrust ? They that lie for an advantage, scalding their mouths to beguile theu' customers ; they that promise what they mean not to perfoim, laying then- tongues to pawTi, without pui-pose to redeem them; they that are led with gain, as the butcher enticeth a poor lamb from its bleatmg mother, by a green branch in hia hand, to the house of slaughter;—do they believe in God, that he ^^'ill sustain them here, and crown them hereafter ? Job thought God did him a good turn in taking away all; his account being lessened, by abating his receipt. There be some that would think no hell like it. Alas ! they can scarce allow their own bodies garments and sustenance. All is to have and to hold, as their indenture nms; and they never come out of their own debt, so base are they to others, so sordid in themselves. But now, what spends such a man in a year upon his soul ? What does God and heaven

cost him ? 00. Do these believe in God ? I tremble to speak it:

the devils believe more. O, but they have a good faith and a good mean-* The multiplication table.— Ed.

iBg! It is false; they have a bad faith, and a worse meaning, for they mean not well to themselves. We are all faithless by nature, dead in unbelief, not only with dimmed eyes, and wounded affections, and weakened souls, like that robbed passenger, ' half dead,' Luke x, (Such indeed is that usual resemblance, wherewith the Pontificians shadow out our estate before conversion ; but as that man fell among thieves, so that text is fallen among thieves too.) But quite dead; so say Christ and his apostles, which we have cause to believe before the pope and his Jesuits. Naturally, there ia no faith in us, till the Spirit of grace infuse it.

Thlrdhj, Let us be humbled and annihilated in our selves, that we may the better believe in God. When the poor man finds no sustenance at home, he is glad to go to the door of charity. The earth is indeed fixed, but thou art not fixed on it; thy gold will but expose thee to danger ; how many have lost their lives for no other fault but being rich ? Thy trade will fail, thy friends will change the copy of their countenance, thy children may prove imkind, thy own heart will fail, thou wilt fail thyself: ' Believe in God,' Prov. iii. 5, he will never fail thee. Let thy reason tell thee of more refuges than Ahasuerus had pro\'iuces ; in the day of trouble thou wilt be to seek. He that will not trust in God in prosperity ; in adversity, for God, he shall trust to himself. Read Jer. xvii. 7, 8. There is no winter with that man, no fall of the leaf; his comforts be ever fresh and green, as it were an everlasting spring. ' 0 Lord, my hope is in thee ;' so long as hope holds the heart will not burst, but his hope shaU never vanish that is placed in God.

Fourthly, Endeavom- we to keep our faith always waking and working, that we may feel it. Quod nonfit, non jMtefit: if faith be in us, it will be felt, 2 Cor. xiii. 5. But the broken heart confesseth, I would believe, but I feel the smoke of my sins smothering it; in my best vigilancy many known errors escape me, and many more escape unknown. But wherefore came Christ but to save sinners ? All things are possible to faith, all sins are pardonable to an infinite mercy. As St Martin answered the devil, tempting him to despair for his sins, Wliy, Satan, even thy sins should be forgiven if thou couldst believe. Whether thou be a young convert that hast so much life as to feel thyself dead in sin; boldest Christ but with benumbed hands ; hast life, and dost not believe thou hast it; believest, and yet will not be persuaded that thou believest. Be comforted ; even to feel the want of feeling is an argument of life ; he that is stark dead neither feels nor knows he doth not feel; no man feels his siclmess that is quite dead; nor are we sensible of corruption, by corruption, but by gi'ace. Or whether thou hast fallen into some filthy puddle of sin, yet faith will never rest till thy peace be made with thy God and thy own conscience. And for ordinary infirmities, faith feteheth out a pardon of course ; thy prayer in the morning cleansing thee from the weaknesses of the night, and thy prayer in the evening from the vanities of the day. Thus do thou more duly wash thy soul and affections than ever pharisee did his hands and his face.

Faith hath a remedy for all diseases ; daily we sin, and faith doth as daily and duly by the blood of the Lamb recover us. God sees all our violations of his law, knows every peccant act better than our own conscience, but withal he sees the atonement made in the sacrifice of his own Son, a satisfaction able to pay all our debts. Hence no sin shall oblige us to condemnation, no debt shall bear an action against us. The rich creditor sees many items in his books, knows what debts have been owing, but

withal he sees tbcm crossed and cancelled, so that the debtor need not break his sleeps for such engagements. I deny not but faith may be sometimes duller and more inactive, yea brought to a very low ebb, yet even then be comforted. God accepts the will and earnest desire to believe for faith itself; nor are we justified for the perfection of our faith, but for the perfection of that obedience which our faith apprehends. Among the Israelites stimg with serpents, some (likely) had dim eyes, some were far oft", yet by looking on the brazen serjjent they were healed as well as the clear-sighted, to shew that they were not cured for the virtue of their sight, but for the ordinance of God. 'Blessed are the poor in spirit,' that complain their want of faith, that feel themselves full of unbelief, that grieve they can believe no better ; blessed are such, they do believe truly, they shall believe more powerftilly.

Samson's hairs may be shorn by the deceit of Delilah, his strength be enervated, but his locks shall grow again, his strength shall return. Jordan may not fill her banks eveiy morning, yet the tide will come. There is an hour when John does not stir in the womb, he shall spring at the approach of Jesus. God never began a building but he finished it, Luke xiv. 30. Man often fails to perfect his undertaldngs, either through former ignorance or want of futui-e ability ; process of time may teach him that the foundation was not good, the model not convenient; there is a Tobiah or San-ballat, sickness or poverty, to hinder him. But God can neither be wiser at the second thought, nor weaker in the conclusion. Faith is like the daisy (so called quasi day's-eye), that sets with the sun and opens with his rising ; her condition being according to that planet's motion. If that ' Sun of righteousness ' goes beneath the globe, faith hangs its head, closeth itself, contracts its leaves; but, having fetched his chcumference, and rising in her hemisphere with the beams of his shining and wanning mercy, faith dilates itself, sprouts, and sends forth a pleasant odour. ' The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth,' Mark v. 39. Yet our best course is to prevent this slumber; he is a dull servant that falls asleep at his work; let us be doing good works, this shall keep our faith waking.

Fifthhj, Let us continually be nom'ishing om- faith, that it may thrive and grow in us. The flesh hath not more need of repast and recreations than the soul hath of her cheerings. Draw in the sweet air of God's precious promises ; this will breed excellent blood and cheerful spirits. Feed upon that heavenly nectar, make it thine own, as the body doth meat by concoction, that it may disperse itself through all the veins of the soul. Think of that promise which cancels all thy debts ; how sweet a thing it is to have God's anger appeased, his infinite justice satisfied, thy innumerable sins pardoned ; that neither death nor hell need be feared, as being utterly unable to separate thee fi'om Christ; that spite of aU temptations thou shalt stand, that thy condition is not changeable ; that thou art now the son of grace and the heir of glory. These be the high and stately things that belong to thee, who belongest to Christ. Our Paschal Lamb is slain, all the days of oui- life be holy days, the true manna that shall preserve us aUve for ever is set on our tables ; who can have such cause to be merry ? Do we complain that we want something which the world hath ? AVTiy, we have that which the world shall never have. Are we loth to trust God longer than he comes to us with a full hand, as the usurer will not trust the man but the pawn ? This is to live by sense, not by faith. There is not the least promise made in the blessed gospel, but the believer will live more comfoiiably by it, than if all the monaixhs of the world had commanded

the most puissant of their kingdoms for his sustentation. ' So God loved the world, that he gave,' &c., John iii. 16. Let me take my own dinner out of this feast, a portion for myself out of this mfinite treasure, leaving nevertheless for others ; I am satisfied, abundantly satisfied, and there remains nothing, but that I hasten to make an end of sin and long for glory.

If we would maintain a healthful temper of the body, we must keep the pores, veins, arteries, and such passages clear and free from colds and obstructions, as physicians tell us. So faith must be kept clear and void of drowsy oppilations, that the Spirit may have the freer passage and scope for motion and action ; he that is asthmatical, narrow-breathed in his faith, cannot but be lumpish and melancholy. To believe in God is the best physic for all diseases, the best diet to keep the conscience in everlasting health. Our assurance of blessedness must not make us careless of helps ; the husbandman believes his ground will yield him a good crop, yet he neglects no tillage. The merchant hopes for a prosperous voyage, yet he is shy of rocks and pirates. The hope of a good end encourageth all proceedings ; we that have such a prize in our hands, God forbid there should want a cheerful forwardness in our hearts.

I believe in God. —I come now to the object of om- faith—God : described here by his name, number, nature, distinction.

1. Name. It is impossible that any name should express tJie nature of God. If the heaven of heavens cannot contain him, for he contains them, how should four letters and two syllables comprehend him ? * How can an infinite being be signified by a limited name ? If all the earth were paper, all the sea ink, and every plant a pen; or were the heaven parchment, the air ink, and every star a pen, and every living creature a ready wi'iter, yet could not the least part of his immenseness be set down. Yet will he be called, and called upon, by this revealed title, ' God.' I believe in God, that infinite power, which no word, no world, can contain.

2. Number; only singular, God, not gods. Plurality of gods was the error of gentilism, and such an opinion as the wiser sort made themselves merry withal. Deiis, si non wms, nulliis.\ The bees have but one king, the flocks but one leader, the heavens but one sun; one kingdom could not hold Romulus and Remus, though one womb did. The whole world hath but one governor. If there were mox-e gods than one, then smgly and apart each must have less strength, so much being wanting to one, as the rest had gleaned fi-om him. Therefore he hath no name, because he is but one, and the proper use of a name is for distinction from others.

Now if but one God, then but one religion : one God in the first precept, and presently one religion in the next. One in the law till Christ came; one in the gospel when he came. Those former St Paul calls ' beggarly elements,' Gal, iv. 9; the fu-st letters of the book to school the people of God. When the fulness of time biought Christ, and Christ brought with him the fulness of knowledge; these last true riches make the other beggarly. Now if Paul could not endure Christ and Moses together, how would he endure Christ and Belial together ? One king we have, and long may we have ; not here the Solomon of England, and there the Jeroboam of Rome. One church, whose motherhood may we all embrace; not here the Sarah of Christ, and there the Hagar of autichrist; here a kind mother, there a bloody stepdame. Oiie gospel, and long may we have it; not here the written verity, there unwritten vanities; not human tradition blended with the divine canon. One religion, and no more; not here Christ's temple, « Aug. t Tertiil.

and there the idols of Babol, the sjTiagoguc of superstitious Baalites, at next door to the commuuion of saints. One faith, and may we all preserve it, for it preserves us; not here the merits of Jesus, and there the relics of Jesuits. One way, one truth, one life, without which we err, we he, we die; which keeping, we go right, we believe right, and shall live for ever. How should the unity of the Spirit, and vanity of the flesh, ever accord ? * One body, one spirit, one hope of our calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in us all,' Eph. iv. 4.

3. Nature.—If we could fully understand the nature of God, we might as well give him a name; we can do neither. God is an essence spiritual, simple, infinite, most holy. (1.) An essence subsisting in himself, and by himself; not receiving it from any other; all other things subsist in him and by him ; ' in him we live, move, and have om* being.' (2.) Spiritual: he hath not a body, nor any parts of a body, but is a spirit, invisible, indivisible. (3.) Simple, we are all compomided; God is without composition of matter, form, or parts. (4.) Infinite ; and that in respect, [1.] of time, without beginning or ending. [2.] Of place, excluded nowhere, included nowhere ; within all places, without all places. (5.) Most holy ; his wisdom, goodness, mercy, love, are infinite. Divers men and angels are called holy, wise, merciful; hni,jirst, they are so made by him, it is his holiness that is in them, and they are but holy and good in their measure, in the concrete; God is holiness itself in the abstract; secondly, The creature is one thing, and the holiness of the creature is another thing, but God's holiness is himself, it is his nature. Thus much our naiTow capacity may conceive of him ; but this sea is too deep for men or angels to sound. Only, if such we believe him, let us strive to be hke him—holy, good, merciful; this is to ' partake of the divine natm'e,' Heb. xii. 10. Scrutari temeritas, imitari pietas est.

4. Distinction.—This title, God, is not proper to the first person only, but common to the rest. Such is the order of the creed ; fii'st, generally, in the forefront, to propound God, and then to distinguish him into three subsistences—Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. They ai-e three in persons, not in natm-e ; one in nature, not in persons. Nature may be common to many; as humanity, the natiu'e of man, is common to all mankind. Person is some incommunicable and individual thing subsisting by itself; as Peter is a man by himself, and Paul a man by himself specifically. Either is a man in unity of nature, but Peter is not Paul, nor is Paul Peter, in unity of person. Let us conceive three persons in one essence, not divided but distinguished, and yet not more mingled than divided. Think of one substance in three subsistences, one essence in three relations; one Jehovah, begetting, begotten, and proceeding—Father, Son, Spirit. The path is nan-ow, we must walk warily ; the conceit either of three substances, or of one subsistence, is damnable. Many men may have the same nature in specie, but they cannot have it in numcro, because they are created quantities, therefore separable. So Peter, Paul, John, have one universal foim, yet are not one man, but three men. But the divine nature being infinite, admitting nei-tlier composition nor division, three persons may subsist in it, yet they are not three gods, but one God. The light of the sun, the light of the moon, and the hght of the air, are for nature and substance, one and the same light, yet ai-e they also thi-ee distinct lights. The light of the sun being of itself, and from none ; the hght of the moon from the sun; and the light of the air from them both. But here only we can adore, and not conceive, we

VOL. lU. o

may conceive and not utter, we may utter and not be understood. Now this point is useful.

First, For the direction of our faith. "We are bound to beheve one God in three persons, but there can be no faith of a thing utterly unknown. If barely to say, ' I believe in God,' were sufficient to save, heaven would be faller than it is like to be. But this is a strait gate, and few enter. Learn, therefore, to know that you may believe ; to believe, that you maybe saved. This binds us to believe the first person of the Deity to be our Father, the second to be our Saviour, the third to be our Sanctifier; if we know not what they do for us, our confession is a confusion.

Secondly, For the direction of our worship. The Trinity in unity, the Unity in trinity, is to be worshipped. He that shall adore one person, without the rest, worships an idol, John iv. 22. If we worship all three, and not as one God, we make three idols. If we frame to ourselves another fonn than God prescribes, we worship not him but ourselves. They that wait on the king loiow the special forms and terms of honouring him ; all his subjects know that he is to be honoured, that reverence, obedience, and love is due to him; and that is a disloyal unmannerliness which denies humble obeisance to so gi'eat a majesty. But, if the king make special laws, prescribing the form of his honour, every subject is bound to know that. Ignorantia juris wUl excuse no man, for he is bound to take notice. God hath set down the maimer, and defined the honour, which he will have, and how; to this we are aU obliged, and must observe it.

Thirdly, For the direction of our prayers. We must not call upon one person, and leave out the rest, as the Jews do on the Father, denying the Son. May we not pray to one person ? Yes, safely and comfortably, if we include the rest. While we fix our heart upon one, and shut out the other, our prayer is sin; let us mention one, and retain all, we ofi"end not. None of them doth aught for us without the rest; all their outward works are common. Therefore, to beg of one, and not of all, is injurious.

Here let us be sure to take our Mediator with us, otherwise we go to the throne of grace without comfort; in whom we must conceive a true manhood gloriously united to the Godhead, without change of either nature, without mixtm'e of both. As in the Deity we conceive three persons and one nature, so in Christ two natures and one person. These apprehensions we must so sever that none be neglected, and so conjoin that they be not confounded. These be mysteries, yet in some measm'e leamable; great depths, yet we may safely wade in them. Yea, this high knowledge is necessary; and he that hath it not may babble, he doth not pray. Think of the man Christ, but without separation of the Godhead united, whose presence and merits give the only passage, acceptance, vigour to our prayers. In him let us send them up to the glorious Trinity, beg mercy of the Father for his Son's sake, beg sanctity of the Holy Ghost for Christ's sake, beg mercy of Christ for his own sake; petition for all good things to all the three persons, but dare not to ask of any without the mediation of Jesus. The least glimpse of this knowledge is worth all the beams of secular skiU; the gleanings of this irradiation better than the vintage of the whole world. Let us study to conceive aright, that we may pray aright; and pray, that we may conceive; and meditate, that we may do both; and that God we j believe in direct us, enable us, that we may do all!

The fii-st person is described. 1. By his title, 'The Father.' 2. Byj his attribute, ' Almighty.' 3. By his efiect, ' Maker of heaven and earth.'

1. The Father. —But doth not this seem to give the first person some prera-

gatlve above the rest, being set before the rest ? Answ. Ho is indeed first, not in priority of nature, for there is but one God, one infinite; nor in priority of time, for there is but one eternal; nor in priority of honour, for none is gi'eater than another; but in respect of order, prioritate orif^inis,-''- as bemg the fountain of the Deity, jninciputm Deitatis.f The Father is of none, the Son is of the Father only, the Holy Ghost from them both. So they are distinguished, John xv. 20. Suppose three kings, equal in royalty, all God's immediate lieutenants, met in one place. They cannot all sit down fii'st, but one in the fu'st place, &c. Yet we cannot say he that sat first is the chiefost. Seeing we must name them all, in order we begin with the Father. But still let me adore simply, not explore subtlely, this wonderful mysteiy.

' Father' is a relative term, Paternitas supponit fiUationem, Mai. i. 6. This is sometimes imderstood of the whole Trinity. So Adam is said to be * the son of God,' Luke iii. 38. ' Call no man father on earth, for one is your father in heaven,' Matt, xxiii. 9. We have indeed earthly parents, but God is om- Father originally, Mai. ii. 10, man organically; God the Father of our spirits, man only of our flesh, and he receives this honoiu* from God. Sometimes it is given to Christ, Isa. ix. 6; Pater ceteniitatis, 'the everlasting Father.' Heb. ii. 13. The Son of God is the father of man, as a man may be at once the son of a father and the father of a son.

* The Father,' in a double relation: to Chi'ist and to us.—God hath one Son by generation, many by regeneration, innumerable b}' creation.

(1.) In respect of Chi'ist, who is his Son, naturallj', singularly, consub-Btantially, coeternally. Therefore, it is the incommunicable propriety of the fii'st person to beget; in this he is distinguished from the other two. Creatures do, indeed, also beget, but with a great diti'ei'ence. In created generations the father is before the son in time, but here the Father begets from all eternity; so both the begetter and begotten are coequal, coeval, in respect of time. God the Father begets God the Son by communicating his whole essence to him. No created father begets so. Adam did not convey his whole essence to his son, for then there must have been an abolition of himself, the generation of one being the corruption of another. But God doth give the whole essence, and yet retain it, being infinite. Man begetting, is forth of the child begotten, and the child is forth of the father; so they are two men. But God the Father begets the Son in himself, not forth of himself, so both persons are still one God. But if they be one nature, then the Father begetting the Son begets himself. Answ. The godhead of the Father begets not the godhead of the Son, but the person of the Father begets the person of the Son; both which are several and distinct persons in one Deity.

(2.) In respect of us.—God is the Father of Christ by natm-e, of angels by election, of all men by creation, of all magistrates by deputation, of all Christians by profession, of all saints by adoption. ' I ascend to my Father, and your Father,' saith Christ, John xx. 17; not Nostruvi, but Meum, etvestrum: alitcr 7neum, aliter vesinnn: meum natura, vestrum fjratia.\ Father of the angels. Job i. 6, Ps. Ixxxix. 6. These be the eldest of the created sons. Father of all men, Acts x-v^i. 28; making our bodies by natural and mediate generation, fonning our souls by immediate infusion, Heb. xii. 9. Father of magistrates; they are called the * sons of the most High,' Ps. Lxxxii. 6. Saul as a man might be the son of Belial, but Saul as a king was the son of God. Father of all Christians by profession, * Aquin. t Aug. X Aug.

1 Pet. i. 17. Father of all the elect, by adoption, Rom. viii. 15; so that now we love him, not for fear, but we fear him for his love. Thus he is our Father. By redemption. Col. i. 12, Ps. xxv. 22: 'Is not he thy Father that bought thee ?' Deut. xxxii. 6. By education : he both broughl us into the world, and hath brought us up in the world. For sauctification: 'Is not he our Father that sanctifies us?' Isa. i. 2. For instruction, Matt. X. 20: ' The Spirit of your Father shall speak in you.' In compassion: 'As a father pities his childi'en,' Ps. ciii. 13. In correction: thus ' he deals with us as with sons,' Heb. xii. 7. Lastly, for salvation: ' Come, ye blessed of my Father,' &c. Yea, Luke xii. 82, ' It is your Father's will to give you the kingdom.' Thus he is our Father.

We have other fathers, but God is the Father of our fathers; we have instrumental fathers, this is our original and fundamental Father. Child, in the Hebrew, often signifies no more but a transcendency: as the ' child of wrath,' ' children of death,' ' sons of perdition,' Ephes. ii. 2, deep in hell's books. Filii contumacice, given to disobedience. ' The child of hell,' Matt, xxiii. 15. ' The sons of death,' 1 Sam. xxvi. 16, Ps. Ixxix. 11, Filii mortis, ]}ro morti destinatis. ' Children of this world,' Luke xvi. 8. for such as are addicted to this world. Or, Luke xx. 34, Jilii seculi, for such as live according to the custom of the world. ' Children of Behal,' ' chikken of the devil,' for such as practise the works of the devil. Gen. v. 32, Filiiis quiugentorum annorum; how old soever in Hebrew, they are called sons. The wicked man belongs not to the fatherhood of God; therefore, he hath many parents, as a bastard is called, filius pojndi.

The saints, indeed, have many fihal titles, but all in relation to God. Filii lucis, Job xii. 36, ' children of the light,' because God is the light. Filii pads, Luke x. 6,' sons of peace,' because God is peace. Filii sa-pientice. Matt. xi. 19, ' children of wisdom,' because God is wisdom. Filii regni, both for outward profession and inward condition, ' children of the kingdom,' Matt. viii. 12, xiii. 38, because Jilii regis, children of the king, heirs of the kingdom. Filii promissionis. Gal. iv. 28, ' children of promise,' because God hath covenanted to be their Father; it is j^dfemum fcedus. Filii thalami. Matt. ix. 15, ' children of the bridechamber,' such as the bridegroom shall admit to his glorious nuptials. ' Children of the resurrection,' Luke XX. 36, because in the resm'rection this Father shall acknowledge them for his own children.

The magistrate is a civil father, 2 Kings v. 23. ' Kings shall be nursing fathers,' Isa. xlix. 23. Honour thy father, reverence the magistrate. The minister is a spiritual father, 1 Cor. iv. 15; Gal. iv. 19; Philem. ver. 10. He is a mean, but God is the main in this adoption. Christ is our * elder brother,' Rom. viii. 29 ; yet also om- father. Such was the pre-eminence of birthright, both under nature and the law, that the first-born son was the head of the family; bore the name, sustained the place, exercised the office of a father, to the governing and even blessing of his younger brethren. Now, if primogenitm'e had such a privilege and precedency, by the rules of justice, among children of the same generation, much more may our Saviour challenge it by a higher right and title. Non timidt habere colice-redes,'-'- because his inheritance is not abridged by the multitude of possessors.

But why would God have more children, seeing that one Son is sufficient for his delight, and in him alone he is well pleased? Ans. He needed them not for any completion of his own happiness, it being infinite and incapable of augmentation; but he doth it for the communication of his

* Aug.

mercy, and manifeation of his glory. Christ is his Son by an eternal generation, not mado, but begotten ; a Son by nature, whereof all adoption is but an imitation, as the civil law speaks. It is a prerogative caso, that a fiither, having a natural son, may not assume a legal, adopted, or supported son, because this latter help was invented and intended only for solace of the father's barrenness, or a supply in regard of the children's mortahty. ' Lord, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless ? and the steward of my house is this Eliezer of Damascus,' Gen. xv. 2. As if Eliezer should be Abraham's heir; for lack of a natural, an adopted son. But this is a mortal and barren help. Had the day of our conception never dawned, and the morning of our adoption never come, God might well have spared us ; he knew how to be happy without us. Before mountains or fountams, hills or depths, had any being, God was delighted in wisdom, his own Son; yet withal, he graciously adds, ' My pleasure was in the sons of men,' Prov. viii. 30. This was not to close up our Creator's defects, or to furnish his scarcity, but to communicate his perfection and abundance. Such was his infinite mercy, that when he could have been glorious enough without us, yet he did adopt us.

Neither was the principal heir against this adoption, not grudging that more beside himself should call God Father. But as the whole store of Eg}'pt came through the hand of Joseph, so the whole largess of all heavenly blessings to mankind, came through the hands of Christ. Jacob's family had perished by i\xmine, but for Joseph: the family of the whole world had been lost, but for Jesus. God hath ' chosen us and adopted us in him,' Eph. i. 3, 4. Though his decrees are before all times, eternal; yet some men, according to the received process and succession of causes here, have guessed at the manner and order of this election; concluding Christ as the first effect of God's ordination, a mediator, in some sort, of God's actual choice, and our potential childship. But non refert did, quod non confert disci: God hath abstracted it, and no contemplation of man can reach it. Let the matter of our study be, not how he hath chosen us, but whether he hath chosen us ; not so much to inquire the reconcihation of mercy and justice in om- heavenly Father's counsel, as in our heavenly Father's covenant. Let us be delighted with the prophetical declaration, more with the real exliibition, most of all in the experimental application of our common Saviour. Through all passages we find no acceptation, but ' in the Beloved,' Eph. i. 6; Gal. iii. 20. This faith hath its beginning from the Spirit of Christ, that eternal Father within us ; and apprehends the merit of Christ, the righteousness of that Father without us ; at which instant we become actual children, and cry, Abba! Father,

To make all this useful to ourselves, here first occur the comforts this title gives us, then the duties it requires of us.

Comfort 1. The honom* of having such a Father, 1 John iii. 1. How high is this dignity ! * To be called the sons of God,' John i. 12 : this is our prerogative royal. We tell you not of a kindred imperial, adopted into some of the Cfesars' families, nor of David matching into the house of Saul, which seemed to him no small prefennent; we blazon not your anns with the mixture of noble ingressions, nor fetch your lineal descents from heroes and monarchs. As in the contention between Mary and Jane, the gentlemen of Oxfordshire came to the university for coimsel in tliat title; but were answered, that they had many excellent arts and mysteries, but the study of heraldry was not practised among them. Only as Peter said, * Silver and gold I have none, but what I have, I give,' Acts iii. 6;

KS MEDITATIONS UPON THE CREED.

SO, what vre know we declare. Do you ask no more : you need no more. To be made the sons and daughters of God, is honoui' amply sufficient.

This dignity wUl appear greater, if you remember the pit from whence you were digged. We were not only dust in our inception, and ashes in our dissolution, but far worse : our father was an Hittite, the swarthy king of hell; our mother an Amorite, leprous and loathsome sin ; desperately forlorn, cast into the wilderness; a sordid skin, and no clothes to hide it; exposed to the rage of hellish monsters, more ravenous than the wolves of the evening : antequam natl, clamnati; adjudged to captivity before our nativity ; benighted in ignorance before ever we saw the sun ; Satan's prisoners, whom he pm-posed to bind in everlasting chains of blackness. We have read of hopeless foundlings entertained by miracle, as yotmg Cyrus in a shepherd's house, a cottage not much above the ground; no likelihood of high promotion there, yet exalted to a kingdom. Of Moses among the bulrushes, taken up to be the son of Pharaoh's daughter. Of David, from the sheepfolds advanced to a monarchy. But no example holds proportion with this : it is of Lo-ruhamah and Lo-ammi, the bastard fruits of fornication, we speak, Hos. i. 8 ; that these should be fetched from accursed thi-aldom, and estated in the glorious liberty of the sons of Ood ; this transcends all admiration. That the Jews, those elder sons, for whom God had done so many miracles, should be rejected; the lost angels for ever disinherited, and we wild brambles adopted : 0 let all thoughts be held digressions, all occm'rents and meditations superfluous, ihat serve not to remember us of this ineffable and inestimable mercy.

Comfort 2. This assures us that we shall never fall into destraction, for there is no mutability in this our Father. If now sons, sons for ever. Nee morihus nostris conrenit Jilium habere temporalem, could man's law say. This is an inheritance too glorious for a man of polluted lips to describe ; no study can comprehend it, no pulpit deliver it, no university teach it, but that one university of heaven. Deo et 2Kirenti non redditur cequiva-lens: none but an ostrich will leave her eggs to the sun above, and to the sand below, forgetting the foot of a beast or passenger to frustrate her hopes. But God's aff'ection is always dear and indefatigable, which Saint Bernard compares to the most tender mothers, springing up similitudes, as the falconer doth partridges ; and yet all shoit, as no natural parent can afford her brood such heat, such motion, such nom-ishment, as God doth.

Many neglects doth the good father pardon, without averting his love from his child. Absalom is up in arms against his own father; David musters his troops too; but as he encourageth them with his eye, so he restrains them with his tongue : ' Deal gently with the young man Absalom, for my sake.' 0 how favourable be the wars of a father ! But this seems to be unjust mercy, deal gently with a traitor ; of all traitors, with a son; of all sons, with an Absalom: so bad a son of so good a father: one that hunts for his blood and crown. For whose cause should Absalom be pursued, if he be forborne for David's ? He was courteous to others, plausible to all the people, only cruel to Da\ad. He was not sure of the success ; the number was imequal. Absalom's forces doubled his, so that he might have been driven to say, Deal gently with Absalom's father. Yet, squaring the greatness of his hopes by the goodness of his cause, and granting himself the victory, he commands pity to the conspirator. A messenger comes. David's fii'st question is, not how fares the host, but

how fares Absaiom. Cushi resolves him. How is he thunder-struck with the word ! As if he were at once bereft of all comfort, and not cared to live but in the name of Absalom, he goes weeping, and crying, 0 Absalom, my son, &c., 2 Sam. xviii. 33. Israel prized his life dear, worth ten thousand of theirs, j'ct he wisheth it exchanged for a traitor's—' Would God I had died for thee !' Absalom conspired against the Ufe of David, yet David would give his life to reprieve Absalom. Here was the love of a father, which I instance as the shadow of that unmeasurable mercy which the true Iving and Redeemer of Israel bears to his children.

Thus have we Christ praying for his murderers, even while they were scorning him, killing him : * Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.' If we be sons, we are ungi-acious, we are rebellious sons; yet still doth our heavenly Father compassionate us. God needs not seek occasion against us ; every moment we provoke and deserve his WTath : just cause he hath to sentence us, ' Let them perish.' Yet still he forbears us, gives us life and motion; yea, even that power which we abuse to dishonour him. Still he chargeth his celestial annies, the blessed angels, ' Deal gently with my children.' ^STiile we lift up our arms against heaven, they hft up their arms to support us: they bear us in their bosoms, as mothers do their curst children, that scratch their breasts. Unkindly we deal with him, pillage his chm-ch, defraud his members, dishonour his name ; yet so kind is'he, that he chargeth all creatures to spai"e us. Yea, even when we would not spare ourselves, he hinders us: as the nurse binds the hands of the unruly child, when it would do violence to its own face; speaking to us, as Paul to the jailor, 'Do thyself no harm,' Acts x\i. 28.

Here is a paternal mercy, past the comprehension of all finite capacities. A near resemblance of it was that of Da^^d, the deputy and type of Christ: ' Deal kindly with my son Absalom ;' ' would God I had died for thee, 0 Absalom, my son.' But how far gi-eater was the love of our Sanom*, who said of us ^Tetched traitors, not. Would God I had died for you; but, I will die, I do die, I have died for you. Oh! love like himself, infinite! whereat the angels stand yet amazed, wherewith the saints are ravished. So gi-ievous are our faults, that were the Lord other than a fiithcr, how could he pardon us ? And, being a father, he must needs beangi-y with us; but because he is a father, he will not disinherit us. A temporal father is loath to part with his mortal child ; how will the Shimamite weep for her son ? yet parents are but the nm-ses of their children, God is the father; and may not the father at his pleasui-e send for the child fi-om nurse ? Perhaps the milk of our breasts is not wholesome, our coimsel is not good; the air is infectious, this world is baneful; or we would bring them up ill; therefore death is the father's messenger to fetch them home. We would not forego them, but we must; God loves them better than we ; loves us better than we can love them: he is able to keep both us and them, John x. 29.

Here let us still remember, that all the love of the Father to us is in and by our Elder Brother, Christ, ' the Beloved,' ' the Son of his love.' God loved others: he loved Abel, held his blood precious; he loved Enoch, transiting him to himself; he loved Abraham, whom he called his friend; ho loved Jacob, loved him before he was, gave him the blessing; he loved Joseph, prospered him in everv place—all Eg}-pt, all his brethi-en, witness it; he loved Moses, called him his faithful senant; he loved Noah, saving him from that general destruction; he loved David, choosing him fi-om the folds; loved Samuel, selected him fi-om a child; he loved Solomon,

gave him wisdom; loved Daniel, that man of desires ; loved Elijah, fetching him up to heaven; he loved Josiah, praising him for an incomparable prince; loved Mary, the blessed Virgin, ' she found favour in his eyes.' Christ loved Lazarus, wept for him; loved John, sujBfering him to lean on his breast; loved Paul, whom he rapt up to paradise. God loveth us, loveth others, loves his whole chm-ch, loves infinite thousands; but aU these ' in the beloved,' Jesus Christ.

Comfort 3. Toleration of wants. The good father doth not turn off the child for being \yeak and sickly; but is so much the more indulgent, as his necessity requires succour. If his stomach refuse meat, or cannot answer it with digestion, will he put him out of doors ? No ; when the Shunamite's son complains of his head, she lays him in her bosom. A mother is good to all the fruits of her womb, most kind to the sick infant; when it lies with its eyes fixed on her, not able to declare its grief, or to call for what it desires, this doubles her compassion: ' So the Lord doth pity us, remembering our frame, considering that we are but dust,' Ps. ciii. 14 ; that our soul v/orks by a lame instrument; and therefore requires not that of an elemental composition, which he doth of angelical spirits. The son is commanded to wi'ite out such a copy fairly ; he doth his best, far short of the original; yet the father doth not chide, but encom-age him. Or he gives him a bow and an'ows, bids him shoot to such a mark; he draws his utmost strength, lets go cheerfully; the arrow drops far short, yet the s6n is praised, the father pleased. Or being sent of an errand, he falls by the way, is hindered by the insinuation of bad company: temptation assaults us, lust buHets us, sec^^lar business diverts us, manifold is our weakness, but not beyond our Father's forgiveness: ' He will spare us, as a man spareth his son that serveth him,' Mai. iii. 17.

Comfort 4. Supportation of infirmities. Our Father's strength is made glorious in our weakness. Matt, xviii. 14. Patris voluntas, filii vaUditas.* Thus we are taught in the fii'st words of that prayer compiled by Wisdom itself, 'Our Father,' admonens adoptionis divina;; 'which art in heaven,' peregrinationis kmnancB. That we may both know we need help, as pilgrims on earth from God in heaven; and conceive trust or hope of that help because he is our Father. There is in him, 1, Skill; an omniscient Father, that ' knows what things we have need of, before we ask him,' Matt. vi. 8. Thy natural father will repair the wants he knows (1 Tim. v. 8), God knows before we declare them. 2, Will, because he is a Father; every one wisheth well to his own. 3, Power, because he is in heaven; ' ask, and it shall be given you,' Matt. vii. 7; because he is a Father, our Father, om' Father in heaven. We are full of want and woe; there is pity and plenty with our Father. This was the fii'st consideration of that returning unthrift, ' In my father's house there is bread enough, and to spare,' Luke xv. 17; the sense whereof taught him so devout a humiliation, ' Father, I have sinned.' Oratio sine mcdis, est quasi avis sine alis. The child, finding itself too weak to go alone, puts forth a hand to the waU to stay it. We are too feeble for the encounters of Satan, we have a Father strong enough : ' His grace is sufiicient for us.' The wronged child stands not to right itself; but resolves, I ■will tell my father, Exod. xiv. 14. Is the world and the flesh too hard for us ? let us tell our Father. This should comfort us in all our sufierings, I'aier vldet, Ps. xxxiv. 15.

Will David undertake that monstrous giant ? Eliab will soon snib him for it: Get thee home, foolish stripling, to thy hook, to thy harp;

* Bern.

let swords alono to thorn that can iisc tliem. Saul looked for one as much higher than himself, as ho was taller than the rest; for some stem face and brawny arm ; young ruddy David was so far below his thoughts, that he receives contempt instead of thanks. But he hath leave to go, not with Saul's armour, but witli God's ; with no sword but that of the Spirit, faith. All Israel looks on him with pity and fear; why is this comely youu" man sufiered to cast away himself upon such a monster ? why is the honour of Israel hazarded upon so unlikely a combatant ? The Philistine looks on him with scorn; ' Am I a dog, that thou comest to me with staves ?' After all this insolence and ostentation, hear David's reply: ' Thou comest to me with a sword, spear, and shield ; but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts,' 1 Sam. x\di. 45. I am indeed weak, but he in whose name I come is potent enough. Thou hast defied the host of God, and the God of hosts. This God fights against thee by my hand ; he is able to revenge his own cause. With one stone he confounds him: there lies the Phihstian champion, and the tciTor of Israel, at the foot of a shepherd. He that considers little Da\id grappling with gi-eat Goliath, and great Goliath groveUing under little David, must confess that we have a Father able to deUver us.

Covifort 5. Admission into his presence. Without fear the good child may come to his kind father. First, there is a persuasion in our hearts that he is our Father; then a petition in our mouths for supply of wants, or pardon of sins, or deliverance from perils. That which faith generally believes, prayer particularly begs. We believe in our Father, ability to give, never denying; wisdom to give, never repenting; goodness to give, never upbraiding. This makes us ciy, not speak softly, as in fear, but loud, as in assurance. 'When the king hath promised a boon, the subject comes with special security into the presence." Are we laden with sin, and would be eased'? privj' to imperfections, and would have them supplied ? Do we fear some judgment, and would be secured ? are we haunted with a temptation, and would be quitted? full of thanlvfulness, and would be delivered? We have the wan-ant of a Father, Pray, and be comforted.

But let us bewai-e of sin, that will make us ran away from our Father, and hide ourselves. If we delight in sin, God will not delight in our prayers. He doth not hear malicious and deliberate sinners, Ps. Ixvi. 18, John ix. 81. It is a high pri^alege to come into the presence chamber of a mortal lung, and not seldom even great men want this prerogative. Yet the king's son may have free entrance ; no servant dares deny the son. Neither have we access only to the throne of gi*ace, but even of glory; our prayers go before, ourselves shall follow. If he admit our petitions, he will not deny om- persons. The king gladly receives a letter from his absent son, how joj^ully will he entertain himself? Why should we fear to die, that may commend our souls into the hands of a gi-acious father? Luke xxiii. 46. No obedient child fears that messenger, how gi-im soever he looks, that he knows ^vill bring him to his loving father.

Comfort 6. Provision of all good things. It is part of the Other's duty to pro\'ide for the family. Parents lay up for their children, not children for their parents. Shall God be defective in that he requires of us ? Quid pater neriabit filiia, qui hoc dif/natiis eat, vt sit pater ? Many be our necessary wants, besides those imaginary ones which we make to ourselves. Thou art rich, and complainest the want of children. Thou hast a Father. ' Instead of thy fathers, thou shalt have children' (Ps. xlv. Ifi), was but a temporal blessing ; but instead of children thou hast a Father: this is a spiritual

blessing. Cannot this content thee ? Is not this Father * better to thee than ten sons ?' as Elkanah said to Hannah, 1 Sam. i. 8. Children may be unkind, vexations instead of comforts. There is unchangeable compassion in this Father. Eng Edward the Fu'st, hearing the news at one time of the death both of his father and of his son, lamented more for his father, giving this reason: I may have more sons, I can have no more fathers. When the case stood so with Abraham : I must either kill my only son or disobey my heavenly Father; though the conflict were grievous between natural affection and faithful obedience, he prefers his Father. How far unhke to those that, to content a child's humour, will displease an almighty Father !

Doth the world throw contempt upon us ? 'It is our Father's will to give us a kingdom,' Luke xii. 32. Be7ie fertur calumnia, cum acquintur corona. That celestial royalty makes large amends for aU. Do we want riches ? Pater novit, ' our heavenly Father knows that we have need of these things,' Matt. vi. 32. Non duhitetis affectum, x>ater est; non duhitetis eff'ectum, novit quod indigetis.'-'- ' If ye, being e\i\, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good things to them that ask him?' Matt. vii. 11, where is a threefold comparison. 1. Dantis ad dantem, hetwixi the gi.Yers. God hath the better store. Man gives and wants. God's treasury hath never the less. WTio would travel far to a broken cistern, that dwells at next door to the fountain ? 2. Recipientis ad recipientem, betwixt the receivers. Grant that Jacob loves Joseph dearly, Benjamin dearer, yet God loves them both better, and better provides for them. 3. Dati ad datum, betwixt the gifts. Coi^poral things maintain but a corruptible life, spirituals preserve an incorruptible soul. Confer on thy son never so many honoui's, manors, jewels, ornaments, yet he shall die. Our Father gives that shall keep us ahve for ever.

Pater est, ergo vult; in ccelis est, ergo p)otest.\ Our ' Father,' to signify his mercy;' 'in heaven,' to declare his all-sufficiency. Non denegabit petentibus sua, qui spo7ite obtulit non petentibus se. Some children are sick of their father, longing when his testament shall be ratified by his death, that they may be fingering the legacies. But let us afi'ect patreni rather than patrimonium, not so much desiring heaven itself, as the glorious presence of our Father there. Deus dabit se et sua, petentibus se plus quam sua. God will give himself and his riches to those that seek himself above his riches. They are extremely covetous whom that infinite Deity cannot content. This is om' happy supply of comfort by om* Father: for our impotency we have his omnipotency; for our transgression his pardon; for our misery his mercy ; for our affliction his compassion; for our weakness his might; for our indigence his indulgence ; for contempt in the world content iu the Lord. Therefore let us sing, ' Blessed be God, the Father of mercies, and the God of all consolation,' 2 Cor. i. 3.

Now, as this title gives dignity, so it requires duty. Many are content, that as a father he should bless them, but not as a father command them. They love to be of the taking hand, but will part with nothing. But we must serve him hke morigerous children, that he may do us good as a gracious Father.

Duty 1. We must be ' led by his Spirit.' This is one proof that we are his children, Kom. viii. 14. Seeing this paternity is the foundation of all hope for what we want, of all continuance of that we have, it is good to be sure of it. Now God, as it is said of Adam, begets no childi-en, but ' in his own likeness.' Generation doth not more than regeneration, effectuate a * Chrys. t Aug.

similitude of the cliikl to tlic parent. Wc commonly know young ones, whose children they are, by their complexion and condition. Such a blood and such a spirit moves in their veins. When God calls for his sons, I make no doubt but the devil himself will appear, Job i. G; and I fear, among those that profess and call God father, he will find many of his own children, John viii. 44. Some come into the congregation of God's children, cither in a sullen humour, as Cato was supposed to step into the theatre, merely that he might step out again; or in a bravery, as men make appearance at a muster, to shew their furniture and feathers, and flash off a little powder ; or for company, like geese to the capitol. There is an humble heart and a teachable spirit; this is rare to find. If we be not led by the SpLiit of our Father, what assui-auce have we that we are not bastards ?

Duty 2. Let us be humbled for oiu' natui-al condition, and strive for this spiritual adoption. We had a worse fatherhood than that of corruption, Job x^^i. 14. No child is so hke its father as a man by nature is hke Satan, in his thoughts, desires, delights. None of us can cndm-c the ex-probration of a base parentage. Yet, if men's works be devilish, Christ's censure holds; and to be the son of a hangman, of an harlot, is honour to it. Our Romish neighbom-s talk much of their miracles; but all present wonders shall lose the reputation of strangeness, would 'you bless our eyes with this mu-acle, to see all become the holy children of a heavenly Father. The earth shall be filled with admiration, hell wdth distraction, heaven with acclamation, the chm-ch with exultation, every good heart with gladness, every ill one with madness, all A\-ith amazed looks, at such a conversion. Is the former Saul joined with the prophets ? the latter Saul with the apostles ? Do the childi-en of Nimi-od, hunters and oppressors ; the children of Lamech, fighters and swaggerers; the children of Jubal, singers and pipers, all come in ? all made the children of God ? Sure, ' Japhet is persuaded to dwell in the tents of Shem.' Now, he that can raise to Abraham sons of stones, work this! Come, then, to meet him, that ' runs to meet you,' Luke xv. He came once in his Son, he comes continually in his word ; and he will pro^ide the fat calf, better than all our venison. He will give the kiss, and the ring, and the robes, precious and incomparable things to entertain his sons.

Until 3. Good children follow their father, and observe him as the copy of their Ufe. In case of injiuy, what doth my father ? ' He causethhis sun to shine, and his rain to fall,' Matt. v. 45, even on his enemies; in this be the ' childi-eu of your Father,' In the works of charity, what doth my Father ? ' He is a Father of the fatherless, a Judge of the widow,' Ps. Ixviii. 5 ; so is his good Son, ' a Father to the poor,' Job. xxix. IG. I om- Father give us the inheritance, and we stick at a small beneficence, it is as if a favourite, when the king had given him a gi'eat manor imder the broad seal, should grudge to pay the fees. He is unworthy to be a rich man's hen-, that will not pay the scrivener for making the will. Let us look up to our Father, and love him for his mercies, fear him for his love, reverence him for his goodness, obey him for his gi-eatness, and be thankful for his kindness ; thus should a good son do. Many complain the unruh-ness of their children, forgetting how um-uly themselves are to their Father. It is just with God to punish the untowardness of his children, with the uutowardness of their children. While we fear not our Father, what reverence should we find in our children ? The sole compendiary way, to be a happy father of earthly children, is first to be a holy child of our heavenly Father. Children are like a looking-glass ; a very breath may defile them:

or as a stringed instrument, that is put out of tune by the very change of the weather. Let the mother confer with the father, as Hannah did with Elkanah about young Samuel's dedication, so concerning their young Samuel's education. Let us shew them how we would have them behave themselves toward us, by our own behaviour toward God.

Dutii 4. Avoid all ungodly society ; so ' God will be a Father to us, and we shall be his sons and daughters,' 2 Cor. vi. 18. He is a graceless child that will take part with his father's enemies. Amicus Dei non erit, qui inimicos Dei non oderit. ' Do I not hate them that hate thee?' Ps. cxxxix. 21. My enemies I love, thy enemies I hate : non quatenus sunt Jiomines, sed quatenus sunt hostes. Shall I accompany those that revel out the Sabbath, as if there was no God to serve ? How the son of so good a father was wrought upon by bad company (Luke xv.), consider with fear. Ask those brands which have been snatched out of this fii'e, the souls that have escaped this snare, how more outrageous than whirlwinds, more contagious than the breath of basilisks, bad fellowship is. There be divers words that lose their sense in construction, and many souls that lose their innocency by consortion. No poison is more violent, more virulent, than that is shot from the breath of such infectious serpents.

Duty 5. Be patient under his corrections : blows from a stranger recoil upon him with quittance; from a father they require patience. If two children be fighting, and a man parting them, lets the one alone, corrects the other, we conclude, the child whom he beats is his own son. God lets bastards escape, but chastiseth his children, Heb. xii. 10. Some in calamity seek to wizards for help, or to such uncouth means ; this is for the son, when he is whipped by the father, to run to his enemy for succour. No, let us beseech the same hand that inflicted it, to remove it; and till he does, be patient under it, believing that the father will do what is best for the child. Honora jiatreni non solum osculantem, sed et verherantem; et in-dulgentem, et ohjimfanteni. Lord, thy very strokes are mercy; if thou correctest us as childi-en, thou meanest to save us as a Father.

Duty 6. If he be our Father, ' where is his honour ?' Mai. i. 6; and how can we honour him, but by our obedience ? Honom' thy temporal father, much more thy eternal. Shall an obstinate sinner say to God, ' My Father, thou art the guide of mj youth?' Jer. iii. 4. Shall we dissemble, whose Father is truth ? be gripulous,* whose Father is bountiful? revenge injuries, whose Father is merciful ? walk in darkness, whose Father is light ? Of all his errors, this most galled the unthrift's heart, that he had grieved his father, Luke xv. 18. Our 'fniits' are called for; these 'honour our Father,' John xv. 8 ; our ' good works,' these ' glorify our Father' on earth, Matt. v. 16, and according to these he wiU glorify us in heaven. But a ' bad son shames the father,' Prov. xxviii. 7.

Duty 7. Let us maintain the honour of our Father with zealous courage. Did our faint-hearted bashfulness injure our own persons, the matter were less grievous; but the common cause of God is wi'onged through his children's timorousness. Which of us hath not yielded an implied consent to God's dishonoui- ? which of us in our places is bold to rebuke corruption, as Paul did Peter, to the face ? where is the ear that tingleth, the blood that riseth, the heart that thrilleth, at the lies and blasphemies of the age ? Unhallowed tongues in every place wound our Father's name ; which was able to make Croesus's yoimg and dumb son speak: while childi-en that are dumb should speak, we that can speak, are dumb and speechless. Shall we, hke those * That is, griping or niggardly.— Ed.

rulers, believe, and not dare to confess ? John xii. 42. Shall we usurp more in our fear and love than our Father ? Yet how hath this stolen courage from men's hearts, and men's hearts from tho Lord. Our forefathers stood against the torrent of the times for Christ, being prodigal of their bloods in that liery trial; and shall we be ashamed to speak for him, and that against private sins, where, if our words prevail not. we have shewn our zeal? Vir bonus ef sapiens audchit dkeve Fentheu;* ' Thou art the man.' I will speak, saith Esther: ' If I perish, I perish,' Esth. iv. 14. If we deny him before mortals, shall not he deny us before angels ? Is there not a fearful ' lake' provided for ' fearful' men '? Rev. xxi. 8. Oh it is beyond aU imagination terrible for us to think, above all wonder honible for them to feel, what punishment belongs to such dastards, yea to such bastards, not childi-en of their Father. How will all their policies shrink, what a world of confusion will surprise their hearts when God shall say, ' Depart, I know you not.' Cowards you have been, none of my champions ; strangers you are, none of my children. I know there be some, that with monstrous tongues, bigger than their hands, can speak gi-eat words, play their prizes in empty fonns, and seem valiant; non quia plus cordis, sed minus oris hahent: not because they have more courage, but less modesty. But far be it from us in the cause of our Father to hold our peace. Shame is the consequent of sin ; let us bestow aU our shame on our own sins ; and not think it a shame, but an honour, to stand for the glory of our Father.

Duty 8. Seeing we have a Father so loving, and able to provide for us, let us banish all immoderate care, Matt. vi. 20, 32. In a family the father provides for all ; he that doth not, is worse than an infidel; the chiu'ch is God's family, his providence sustains it: if thou be one of the house, put thy trust in the Father. If we see a young man busily puiTcying for himself, building, purchasing, proling, raking wealth together, we say, Sm-e his father is dead. If our care be set night and day on the things of this life, losing our repasts, breaking om* sleeps, wearing out om- bodies with la-bom-s, tearing our souls with distractions ; it argues, that either God hath cast us off, or we take him for no father of ours. Indeed if om- Father were poor, we might look to ourselves ; but seeing his riches know no measure, his love no end, it is enough for us to be sm-e of our adoption, let him alone with our portion. If a temporal father give no legacy to one child among the rest, yet he will recover a child's part by law. But our Father can neither want legacies to give, nor love to bestow them; if we be his children we shall be blessed.

Almighty. —This consists in two things. First, he is able to do what he plcaseth, and that in all places, Ps. cxxxv. G. Next, he is able to do more than he pleaseth, able to tui-n ' stones into children,' Matt. iii. 9 ; or ' into bread,' Matt. iv. 3 ; yet he never did it. Able to command legions of angels for his rescue, yei he did not, Matt. xxvi. 53, Able to have saved himself from death, and confounded his deriders, he would not; but rather chose, by not saving himself, to save us, Luke xxiii. 35. He is able to make more worlds, more suns for this ; he would not, will not. Thus God can do all that he will do, actually ; and more than he will do, potentially. There be three things that (di%dnes hold) God cannot do, without derogation to his ahnightincss : (1.) Such as bo contrary to his personal propriety: as the Son cannot beget the Father, nor either of them proceed from the Holy Ghost. (2.) Such as be contrary to the essential property of the godhead ; as he cannot be finite, nor ignorant of anjihing; he cannot make

* Uorat.

another God, another infinite. He ' cannot He,' Titus i. 2, Heb. vi. 18; ' he ' cannot die,' he * cannot deny himself,' 2 Tim. ii. 13; cannot repent, cannot change, Num. xxiii. 19, Ps. ex. 4, Mai. iii. 6. Miitare potest signum, non consilium. Whom he hath decreed to save, he cannot damn; if he have promised mercy, he cannot throw to hell; for he cannot do against his promise, against his pui-pose. These are the effects of impotency, signs of imperfection, which, if God could admit, he could not be God. Man can indeed lie and change, and sin, and repent, therefore is weak; but God cannot, and because he cannot he is omnipotent. Dicitur omnipotens, faci-endo quod vult, non patiendo quod non vult.'^-

(3.) Some think that he cannot do things which imply contradiction ; of a stone he can make a man, or turn man into a stone; but that a stone, being a stone, should also be a man, this they hold impossible. A woman was turned into a pillar of salt, but become a pillar, she ceased to be a woman. So water was changed into wine, but then it was no longer water. That, in the same place, and not in the same place, at the same time, and not at the same time, the sun should shine, and not shine—this is a manifest contradiction. When we deny the Romish reality of Christ's body in the sacrament, they think to choke us with a potest Dominns, God can do this. But beside that a body hath dimensions, circumscribed, limited to some place, and to extend it to innumerable places, is to make it cease being a body; the sea was divided, the sun stood still; but that was still a sea, this still a sun; but, if a body could be everywhere, it were not still a body. But yield that God can do this, therefore he doth it, is no good consequent. From ivill to can is a good argument, ' Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean,' Matt. viii. 2 ; not from can to will. But this is mii-aculous, say they. We answer, Christ wrought no miracle, but man's sense might apprehend it to be a miracle. When he turned water into wine, made him see that was bom blind, fed thousands with a few loaves; the sight, and taste, and sense being exercised, could testify these for miracles. Here the sense is against it; we see bread, take bread, taste bread, digest bread; therefore not the real body, otherwise than in a sacramental relation and mystery. Faith is sujjra sensuni, not contra rationem. It were a strange faith, when I see and know this church to be wood and stone, to beheve that it is brass and iron.

Duty 1. This should strike a terror unto us, as the poor child quakes when he sees his father coming with the rod. ' I am afraid of thy judgments ;' they little consider of God's almightiness that tremble not at his judgments. 'It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands' of his justice, Heb. X. 31; but into the hands ' of his mercy' we desire to commend ourselves ; there is no place safer. Do not think to pass cm-rent with thy sins, because thou art long forborne; he that was able to overthrow thee before this in his power, will call thee to account in his justice. Aaron might look somewhat heavily on that sad spectacle, amazed to see his two sons dead before him, Levit. x. 3, dead in displeasm-e, dead suddenly, dead by the immediate hand of God ; yet he ' held his peace ;' not out of suUenness, but submiss patience; seeing it the Lord's pleasure, and their desert, he is content to forget that he had sons. God's judgments must be honoured,

* Aug. Adams appears to have misunderstood this passage. He quotes it iu vol. i. p. 115, and translates it, ' He is called almighty in doing what he pleaseth, not in suffering what he pleaseth not,' and it is evident that he attaches the same meaning to it here. Whereas it would seem that the meaning is, ' He is called almighty from doing what he pleases, and from not suffering what he does not please.'— Ed.

not murmured at, not censured in others, but deprecated in ourselves. That which hath befallen any sinner, 0 sinner, may befall thee; there is the same might in him, if there be the same malice in us. Were his strength decayable with time, there might be some hope in reluctation ; but never did or shall man contest against God without coming short home. He is as almighty in the valleys as in the hills. Some fear the waters, are secure on the land, dread a clap of thunder, think themselves safe in a calm; as if the earth could not swallow Korah, as well as the water drown Pharaoh; as if Nadab were not slain with fire from heaven, when the weather was fair. One will not come to the temple for fear of dying in a crowd ; as if God could not find him out in his privacy, or the strayer from the di'ove might never foil into the hands of slaughter.

Duty 2. Let this consideration humble us ; the pride of man and omni-potency of God will hardly stand together. The apostles contend for superiority, and presently Satan begs them, ' desires to winnow them,' Luke xxii. 31. A man thinks scorn to be censured a natural; yet he is no sooner proud but Satan begs him for a fool, as none are begged of the king but fools and madmen. The sight of a proud woman made the good man weep; fii'st, because she was going to hell; secondly, because she was going faster than he could go to heaven.* All other sins lead a man to God, only pride brings him against God. ' God rcsisteth the proud!' 1 Pet. V. 5.; good reason, for the proud resist God. Other sinners forsake God, therefore God forsakes them; but the proud resists God, therefore God resists him.f All the capital sins are the daughters of pride, all odious ; how \'ile is the mother ?

It degrees up itself hke rebellion. (1.) The fii'st act of rebellion is denying of tribute : pride refuseth to pay God the tribute of praise ; all honour is too httle for herself. (2.) Rebellion disobeys the king's laws, pride will be bound to no law, thinks herself too good to be controlled. (3.) Rebellion sets up a new king, and pride sets up a new god : ' We will not have this man reign over us,' Luke xix. 14. Like Ahithophel, it sets up an Absalom against David, but at last despairs and hangs itself, (nt.) Rebelhon takes the field, and so doth pride ; ' Let us break their bonds asunder,' Ps. ii. 2. If their hands cannot reach heaven, they will dart out spicula lingua, ' setting then* mouths against heaven,' Ps. Ixxiii. 9. They wall blaspheme God, though they cannot imcro\\Ti him. All are fools by nature; he that humbles not himself must remain a fool still; for God reveals bis wisdom to babes, not to the proud. Christ doth not thank God for hiding these mj-steries from the wise, but for revealing them to the humble. Matt, xi. 25. As Rom. vi. 17, not that you were so, but that you are thus.* Alas, that poor dust should be proud when it considers the Aimighty! He that desu'es to build high, and to seek the things above, must lay his foundation low in an humble heart. Quo minor est qnisquis, maximus est homimnn. Humility is schola, and scala cccli; to raise the humble is the delight of onmipoteucy, but rebels shall be cast do^\•n into hell.

Vutij 3. Be patient under his afllictiiig hand; there is no dealing with the Almighty but by prayers and peace-ollerings. ' I was dumb, and opened not my mouth, because thou didst it,' Ps. xxxix. 10. Not a word! but there may be a silent tongue and a clamorous heart. A speechless ripening § of the soul is the loudest ciy in God's ears. Heat gathered within, and wanting vent, is more llagi-aut. But David was dumb within, his heart was mute, he knew he should get httle by brawling with God. Aaron's sons * Pamp. in Socrat. f Greg. % Jcxom, g Qu. ' Eepining ?'— Ed.

perish, and he * holds his peace ;' if he breathe out discontent, he saw God able to speak again, even to him, in fire. Shimei curses, David looks higher, not to the barking of the dog, but to the master that set him on. He could easily stop the mouth of Shimei, he dares not grapple with the hand of God. The sin of Shimei's curse was his own, the smart of the curse was the Lord's. God wills that as David's affliction, which he hates as Shimei's transgression. That lewd tongue moved from God, it moved lewdly from Satan. Yet the patient king says, ' God hath bidden him curse David.' The event shewed that David could distinguish between the righteousness of God and the unrighteousness of a traitor; how he could both kiss the rod, and yet charge Solomon to burn it. His eyes were fixed on the Almighty ; this was the strong motive of his submission, the acknowledgment of the original from whence these evils came.

Let us leam, in the wrongs of an enemy, to see the hand of God; our hate of the instrument shall be swallowed up in the awe of the agent. There is no greater proof of grace than to smart patiently, with a contented heart, reposing itself in the wisdom and goodness of God, so far from chiding that we dispute not. The more a bird struggles in the net, the faster she is caught. The lion shews least mercy of all to the resisting beast. We all know that we do not meddle with our match, when we strive with our Maker. Yet nature is so forward that she still m-geth us to this dangerous quarrel, ' Cui'se God and die.' It is not only the master's charge, but the apostle's, and so the Lord's, to servants, that they ' answer not again.' When God either chides or smites, think of his omnipotence, and hold thy peace. When his hand is on our back, our hand must be on our mouth. Otherwise we shall fare the worse, as mothers whip their children so much the more for crying.

Dati/ 4. Let us not extend our power to the utmost; considering that the Lord is almighty, yet doth not exercise the fulness of his power against us. When we contemplate his might, we have cause to wonder at his patience. Bloody and cruel Marcion charged the God of the Old Testament with blood and cruelty; as his father the devil, even in paradise, a place full of love, would have fastened envy on his Maker. All this while he forgot his omnipotency, that gave him a tongue to speak, and head to invent such a devilish blasphemy. He that was able to sink him in the midst of this impiety, and did not, was no cruel God. If wicked men see fearful judgments, their heart is ready to charge God mth cruelty; but he that spares them in mercy, who in their malice spare not him, is no cruel God. He needs no cruelty. Should he turn all things to nothing in a moment, by his almightiness, he might do it in justice, and his justice is a part of his goodness. Long, long doth he forbear us, that can find cause enough in his justice, and power enough in his omnipotence, to confound us. Himself calls punishment ' a strange work, a strange act,' Isa. xxviii. 21 ; as if every act of severity seemed strange to him. But for infiniteness, his patience would be tired out in the tedious expectation of our repentance, Exod. xxxiv. 6. His mightiness is contracted in a few words, his mercy hath a large description; as if this had gotten the victory, and aU the weapons in the armoury of heaven were rainbows ; which is a bow, but without an arrow, and a bow full bent, but v/ithout a string, and a bow bent, but with the wrong side upwards, as if we shot at him, not he at us. If he should turn it, and charge it, and drav/ the arrow up to the head, yet repentance might get mercy to step in, as the angel did to Abraham. Thus able is he to punish, thus gracious to forbear and forgive.

You that be magistrates at home, masters of famihcs, behold liere the patience of your IMaster, and the Master of all tlie world. You have power to punish, so hath he ; your power is limited, his infinite. Will you forgive no faults ? You shew him how to use yourselves. Examine your own conscience ; you have not gone at God's sending, not come at his caUing, not done your duty according to his bidding. Ho hath spared you ; be not ye without mercy, that stand in need of mercy. The apostle hath spoken it, and the day of Christ shall verify it: ' Judgment shall be without mercy, to him that shews not mercy,' James ii. 13. I know that correction is necessary for a servant; but let it not be discharged like a piece of ordnance, that dasheth in pieces ere it reporteth. Let direction be multiplied upon direction, instruction upon instruction, here a warning, there a thi'eatening; and when words cannot prevail, come not to blows without weeping eyes, melting hearts, yearning bowels. Use your power to the edification, not to the damnifying, of others. There is dift'erence betwixt apprentices and slaves : they are yours to teach a trade, to direct in the ways of godliness and civility ; not to abuse with over-burdenous labours and inhuman blows. If you extend yom* magisterial power over them, take heed, there is an almighty God able to revenge it upon you. Yo have children, may they not feel the punishment of such a father, in the rigom* of such a master? Think thou secst thy owti child in such a plight as thou hast left the child of thy neighbour. Say stripes be not common ; yet harsh language, uncomfortable checks, the discouragement of continual snibs, arc vexation enough. Should God thus rebuke thee for every fault, where were thy peace ? Let yom* beha\iour be so innocently impartial, that they may despair of pardon for their errors ; and yet so pardon theirs, as men that continually oftend. Beware of spleen in any chastisement; passion and precipitation may make mental mu.rder of a just correction. Qualify your power by your pity, as God doth his might by his mercy, Luke vi. 36. Rather spare, where in equity you might have punished; than pmiish, where in mercy you might have spared. A forfeiture, in law, hath left the boiTower to thy mercy ; if thou wilt be extreme, and do what thou mayest do, look for the same measure at the hand of this Almighty. That thou wouldst do mischief, and canst not, thanks be to God; that thou canst do mischief, and wilt not, next to the di^'ine grace, there is some thanks to thyself. He that can say with conscience, that he hath spared others, may hope with confidence that God will spare him.

Diitij 5. Beware of presuming in sin by the Lord's forbearance. It is the greatness of mercy, not the want of greatness, that hath spared thee. And he is not more merciful to the repentant, than just in retribution of vengeance to the obstinate. Seeing the wicked impugn, one would think judgment were all this while omitted, as an unproper and impertinent business, scarce agi'eeable to the blessed natm-e of such a sovereign goodness, Eccles. viii. 11. The venturous swimmer may escape often, and yet at last be di'owncd in some churlish wave ; the rioter overcomes many surfeits, some one shall pay him for all. So doth the justice of God overtake sinners when they least suspect it, that have had many warnings of wrath, and would not pi'eveut it. Oh, that men would consider this almighty power, and how horrible a pit he hath provided for iniquity, whereinto he is able to put them in the act and article of their sins 1 In the night, a man passeth by some dangerous precipice, steeper than Dover clitTs, from whence faUing he were lost without hope. This as he escapes without sight, so ho goes his way without thanks. Bring him back in the day, shew him the

VOL. III. H

peril, measure the downfall; he trembles at it, and blesseth God for his deliverance. To let us go on in our errors, and perish, that were his justice; to dehver us from the dangers we would incm-, this is his providence.

Duty 6. Despair not of mercy upon thy repentance, for there is no sin beyond the Almighty's forgiveness. After 1600 years' obduracy of the Jews, * God is able to gi-aif them in,' Kom. xi. 23. Indeed, when a man is aged in sin, in blindness, unbelief, disobedience, it is only an almighty power that can convert him; as to cure a man thirty-eight years bed-rid, or another bom blind. This is to * believe in God Almighty,' that he is able to pardon my sins, to supply my wants, to ease my sorrows. If we want not faith, he wants not power to give us all good things. An almighty Judge, so the devils believe him; but an almighty Father, this is the faith of the saints. On these two foundations stands every Christian, the 'exceeding greatness of his power,' Eph. i. 19, and 'of his mercy,' chap, ii. 4. Indeed, the contrary power is visible everywhere ; Satan is strong to draw men to sin. In our unpacified contentions, we see the power of Satan; in our covetousness, uncleanness, malice, is seen the power of Satan ; but in few do we discern the mighty power of grace. Men ' have a form of godliness, but deny the power thereof,' 2 Tim. iii. 5. Though he be almighty, he forceth no man to heaven against his will. If they will deny his power, he that is mighty to save them that believe, is as mighty to condemn those that will not obey. Satan is but his slave ; though he prevail mightily, it is but by permission. ' Greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world,' 1 John iv. 4. As he is greater in himself, so let him be greater in us; yielding to his grace, as we do to his truth, not only that it is great, but shall prevail in us. As you desire to leave a good testimony to the world, and to bear a good argument in your own souls, that you are the children of this omnipotent Father, let his grace be mighty in you, and shew itself mightily from you. Let that mighty word, which is preached by dust and ashes, be mighty in your lives, ' casting down the strongholds' of sin, every high fortification exalted against obedience, 2 Cor. X. 5. Let us see charity as mighty in you, as covetousness is in the world ; the love of God as mighty in you, as the love of riches is in them. When the power of your lust yields to ihe power of gi-ace ; the strength of corruption, to the strength of the Spirit; the mightiness of your robustious wills, to the will of your almighty Father; then we shall find comfort, you shall find comfort, the whole church be deUghted, the angels in heaven rejoice; and that most mighty God, who here sanctifies us by his mighty grace, and shall raise our bodies by his mighty power, will at last mightily glorify us with his salvation.

Maker of Heaven and Earth. —This appertaineth essentially to the whole Trmity, for the Father is not only a Creator, and almighty, but also the Son and the Holy Spirit, John i. 3, Heb. i. 2. The Son creates, Col. i. 16; the Holy Ghost, Gen. i. 2, Job xxvi. 13. The creation, in the mass of the matter, is attributed to God the Father; in the disposition of the foi-m, to God the Son; in the preservation of all, to God the Holy Ghost. The actions of God be of two sorts, outward or inward. (1.) The inward are immanent in the essence of the Deity by an act internal and eternal; as the Father to beget the Son, and to communicate the godhead to the Holy Ghost. (2.) The outward are transient works, passing to the creatures by an act external and temporal; these are works of nature, or works of grace. The works of nature respect her either qua est in fieri, or qua est in facto; the former are the works of creation, the other of conservation.

These outward works be common to all the persons. Opera ad extra sunt indivisa, what one person doth all do; the Father createth, the Son createth, the Holy Ghost ci*eateth. Yet here must be observed a distinction in the manner and order of working. The Father createth by the Son and by the Spirit, the Son createth from the Father and by the Spirit, the Spirit createth not by, but from, them both. Therefore is the first person called our Creator, because he makes all things, after a peculiar manner, by the Son and Spmt; whereas they make, not by him, but from him. The Father may be said to be Causa movens, the Son operaxs, the Spirit alisolreus; the Father wills it, the Son works it, the Holy Ghost accom-pliahcth it.

To order the method of our discourse according to the method of God's work, consider three things:—1. His deteirmination to make the world; 2. His creation of it as he had determined; and, 3. Preservation of it as it is created.

1. The counsel or determination of God hath two properties: Eternity, decreeing all things before all time, Ephes. i. 4, 2 Tim. i. 9; and un-changeableness. Jam. i. 17, for such as God is, such is his decree. By vu'tue of this he set down with himself whatsoever he hath, doth, or shall bi'ing to pass, with all their circumstances of time, place, causes, so that not the least thing is left vmpurposed, undisposed. ' He worketh all things after the counsel of his own will,' Ephes. i. 11. There is nothmg out of the compass of his foreknowledge and forcappointment, neither of which must be severed. Impotens voluntas absque scicntia, inanis jjroiscientia absque voluntate.

This is that counsel of the blessed Trinity whereby he pm-posed to make and govern the world. Christ is called his Father's Counsellor, Isa. ix. 6; and so the creation of the world is said to be ' in him,' Col. i. 7. (1.) In Christ, tanquam in exempJari, he being the image of his Father's understanding. In the building of a house there is a double fi-ame, one in the architect's head, another in material being, built after the former conceived pattern. (2.) In him, as that head and foundation in which all other things should consist. He is our Creator ad esse, our Preserver in esse, our Redeemer ad bene esse, making us the sons of God, John i. 12.

But if God decree and ordain all things, then sin. Ans. God decreed sin not properly as it is sin: quatenus habet rationem entis, non quatenns habet rationem dejectus, God converting that to his glory which the sinner commits to his own confusion. But he is a God iniquitatem non rolem, ' that hath no pleasure in wickedness,' Ps. v. 4. Ans. Voluntate permissiva vult, approhativd non vult. By his will of permission, but not by his will of approbation, he wills it. Thus by an unspeakable manner it comes to pass, ut quod est contra voluntatem Domini, nan estprmter roluntateni Domini,* that that is not beside his will which is yet done against his expressed will. His special will forbids it, hates it, punisheth it; yet his general will suffers it, and ho honours himself by it. So, in respect of God, bonum est ut sit malum. Object. But if all comes to pass by his unchangeable decree, what need is there of means? to what end are sermons, sacraments, magistrates, laws? Let men work or play, wake or sleep, his pui-pose cannot be fi-us-trated. Ans. The same decree that ordained the end, ordained also the means to that end. The earth shall yield us com not unless we sow it; if we would have hay, we must cut the gi'ass. Desire we some good things we want? "We must pray; prayer is the means to obtain them. Would we

* Aug.

be forgiven*? We must repent; remission is the end to whicli repentance is tlie means. Would we be justified by Christ's righteousness? We must beheve; faith is the means. Would Ave believe? We must hear. In vain he looks for recovery of his health that refuseth physic. They that content themselves with idleness and indevotion, must be content without salvation.

2. The Creation. —To create is to give a being where was none before, and that out of nothing, to make esse quod non erat. There is a difference between creating, generating, and making. Generation is to produce a hving substance by a living substance, conferring the matter out of itself, as man by man. Making is to form a thing of something, as to make an image of a piece of wood or stone. Creation is to frame a being of nothing; this is a work of God by himself, generation is his work by nature. There have been many eiTors about the creation. (1.) Some held that the world was eternal. (2.) Some that if it were not eternal, it had a material beginning, it was made of something. (3.) Some that God made the superior creatures himself, the inferior by angels. (4.) Some that the world was made by chance, by the concurring of bodies, as the epicures. (5.) Others conceived two beginnings, one to be the beginner of things corruptible, the other of incorruptible. Tha very first verse of the Bible confutes them all. ' In the beginning;' therefore, it was not eternal, it had a beginning. 'Created' argues that it was made of nothing. ' God,' this excludes angels from being creators. Lastly, ' God made all;' therefore, there is but one beginning of all creatures.

For the creation in general I will touch upon seven circumstances: the matter, the manner, the harmony, the goodness, the time, the space of making, and the end.

(1.) The matter and first beginning of all creatm'es was nothing; God made something of nothing, and of that something all things. It is the praise of us men if where we have matter we can give fashion; lay us stones and timber, we can raise a house, and if it be handsome we look for commendation. But God made the matter which had no being; he gave a form to that matter, a glory to that form. With us not so much as a thought can rise without some matter, but here all matter arises from nothing; nothing negatively in the creation of the fii'st mass of all things, nothing privatively in the second creation of things out of the first chaos.

This miraculous work may soon drown our thoughts, who cannot conceive of eternity, what it was before the world was. How can plants judge of sense or beasts judge of reason? Little doth the horse know what his rider's soul discourseth; so unfit is reason to judge of eternity. But let this [1.] humble us all. Wliy do we stand upon our ancestors? Could we derive ourselves by a known lineal descent from Noah, yet he was the son of Lamech, who was the son of Methuselah, who was the son of Enoch, who was the son of Jared, who was the son of Mahalaleel, v/ho was the son of Cainan, who was the son of Enos, who was the son of Seth, who was the son of Adam, who was the son of dust, which was the son of nothing. Man was made of earth, but what was the earth made of? Nothing. Foohsh dust, to be proud of nothing! [2.] Comfort and confirm our faith. How easy is it for God to repair all out of something, that could fetch all out of nothing ? How should we distrust him for our resurrection, who hath thus approved his omnipotence in our creation ? Our remainder after death can never be so small as our being was before the world; ashes is more than nothing. It is a greater wonder to make the least clod of

MEDITATIONS UPON THE CREED. ] 17

nothing than to multiply a world. Thou that didst make mc in time, {Recording to thy o^^^^ decroe heforc time, wilt revive me from dust, fetch me a second time fi'om the earth, to live with thyself when time shall he no more.

(2.) The manner of God's creating things, was most freely, most easily. Freely ; without an}' necessity compelling him to it, fecit, quomodo rcfccit, but ' of his own will he doth regenerate us,' James i. 18 ; therefore of his o^vn will he made us. That which is not, cannot give any cause why it should be ; we could not desen'e to be made, nor did God need us to do his work for him. Easily; without any labour, motion, or mutation of himself; without any defotigation in his works, but the very bidding it ' be done,' was the doing of it. His will was his word, and his word was his deed. Our tongue, and hand, and heart, are different; the tongue often promises without the heart, the tongue and heart are resolved, yet the hand comes short of performance. All these are one in God, who is simply one and infinite. Fiat, et factum est, Ps. xxxiii. 9 ; ' He spake the word, and they were created,' Ps. cxlviii. 5. There is rerbimi annuutiatnm, ennntia-inm, and operativwn. [1.] The substantial Word, which is Chi'ist, 6 7.Cyog, John i. 1 ; that excellent word, from whom eveiy divine truth comes. Indeed, by this Word was the world created; but. Gen. i. 3, the Son is not meant. For that word was in time, but the Son is before all times. He is not a vocal word, formed by the tongue and air, but before any sound or ail'; the mental Word of his Father. Vcrbum, von sonus aurihus strepens, sed imago mentihus innotesccns.■>' That was the word of the three persons equally, whereas the Son is the Word of the Father only. [2.] The sounding or wi'itten word ; but it is not likely that God did speak more humane, when he made the world, [3]. The operative word, which is the good pleasure and will of God. Ipsum Dei vcUe, gave omnibus esse.

He needed no helps, no instruments; we cannot build a house without tools, but there needed no tool, nor hand to the Omnipotent. His arm is not shortened with time, his word is still equally effectual. Die verbum tantum, ' Say the word only,' Matt. viii. 8, and my soul shall be made new again. He that created me when I was not, by his word, can as easily by the same word restore me, that have brought myself to worse than nothing. ' Say the word,' Lord, and my heart shall be turned from iniquity. ' Say the word,' and my body shall be repaired from death. Say, ' Let there be light,' and my inward darkness shall vanish, 2 Cor. iv. G. How penitent, humble, holy, should we all depart hence, that came in sinful, proud, profane, did God give but his fiat; for all things obey him. 0 that man, whom God made to command the creatm'es, and to obey himself, would not, by the defect of his obeying, lose the pri\dledge of his commanding ! We that must necessarily yield to the word of his counsel, why do we not voluntarily yield to the word of his command ? Thus easily did he make us, and quickly did we mar om-sclvcs ; our reparation cost him dearer, the blood and, deMh of his only Son. We that owe him all we are for our creation, what shaU we give him for om* redemption ?

(3.) The integrity and excellency of the work : the matter doth not more praise his power, than the foi-m his wisdom. ' How manifold are thy works, in wisdom hast thou made them all,' Ps. civ. 24. How admirable is the beauty, the order ! What beauty in the work, what order in the working ! If we can finish a slight and imperfect matter, and that by a foi-mer pattern, and that with much labour ; it is the height of our skill. But to begin that

* Aug.

which never was, whereof there was no example, whereto there was no inclination, wherein was no possibility of that which should be; this is proper only to the infinite power of an infinite Creator.

It pleased God to work this by degi'ees ; at first he made nothing absolute, but heaven and earth in their rude and indisposed matter. As the cup and the cover, as in an egg the yolk and the white, as in a cii'cle the centre and the circumference. ' The earth was without form, and void,' Gen. i. 2. Here was matter, but it wanted form ; called toliu and holm, emptiness and vacuity. Not that tolm was the materia j^rima, which the philosophera da-eamt of; and bohu,forma nondum appUcata. There was yet neither day nor light; but presently he made light and day. First, things that should have being without life, then those that should have being and life ; then those that should have being, life, and reason. So we ourselves, in the ordinary course of generation, first live the life of vegetation, then of sense, of reason aftei'ward. Such were the steps of God's proceeding; he that could have made all perfect in an instant, chose to do it by degrees. That which moved him to create, is reason enough why he did create thus ; his own will. How vainly do men hope to be perfect at once! as if one instant could make thee an absolute Christian, whom many years have scarce made an absolute man. By degrees hath God made this world fit for us, and by degrees he will make us fit for the world to come.

(4.) The goodness; all that God made was good, himself much more good; they good in their kinds. Gen. i. 31, he good in himself. This goodness was the perfect state of the creature, made conformable to the mind of God. For it is not first good, and therefore approved of God ; but because God approved it, therefore it was good. Some curiously have observed, that in the works of the second day, this approbation is omitted, ' God saw that it was good.' The Hebrews say, because Gehenna, hell, was that day made, and that day the angels fell. Jerome says, because two is the beginning of division ; but this division was good, which reduced the creatures from confusion. Indeed, the work begun on the second day was finished in the third; but all were good, there flowing in the creation a goodness to eveiy creature.

This goodness stands in three things. [l.J In the comeliness and beauty of the creature; a rare glory shining forth in the form and constitution of it. [2.] In the excellency of the virtue infused to it; as every one was made for some special end, so endued with special virtue to accomplish that end. [3.] In the harmony of their obedience to God, and the commodious and delightful benefit of them all to man; when no herb, no flower was Avanting ; whether for ornament or use, for sight, or scent, or taste. How pleasant have some gardens appeared, made by men ; yet all the world cannot make one twig, one leaf, one spire of grass. How profitable for matter, how admirable for form, how delectable for iise, must that be, made by God himself.

All were good indeed. Satan, as he is a devil; and sin, that came by his suggestion; and death, that came by sin; are none of God's works. What is Dvil is a nothing; mali nulla natura est, seel amissio honi accepit nomen mali.'^ Mall essentia in eo j)osita est, quod essentiam non hahet.\ From God nothing but good. Ita confert bona, quod non infert mala.\ When we see any ataxy or deformity in the creatures, let us look back to the apostasy of our parents, and confess in the sorrow of om- hearts, that our wretched sins * Aug. t Greg. Nyss. % Arden.

have defiled heaven and earth, and drami a curse upon the whole fabric of nature ; whatsoever imperfection is in it, we, we have caused it. As a man lets a well furnished house to a careless and sluttish tenant, whoso unclean-ness defiles it. So in all the beauty of it, we read our Maker's goodness ; in all the deformity of it, our own badness. Now, ho that hath made all things good for us, make us also good for himself!

(5.) The time when the world was made : ' In the beginning.' Ho that is without beginning gave a beginning to time, and to the world in time. In time, with time, in the beginning of time. The exact computation whereof is set down by Moses and the prophets unto Christ, and we have it from Christ to the present day. This chronology God would have kept and observed. [1.] To confute the Egyptian atheism, which talks of a succession of their kings for seventy thousand years, and reckons, since they fii'st learned astrology, a hundred thousand years. [2.] That the covenant of gi'ace might be known, for the time of donation, renovation, and exhibition. ' When the fulness of time was come, God sent his Son,' Gal. iv. 4. [3.] To shew that the w^orld was not made for the eternal God, but for man. God dwelleth nowhere ; wo all dwell in him: 7to)i Dominns in domo, sed domus in Domino. If any object, that ho ' made all things for himself,' Prov. svi. 4,1 answer, this is meant, for his glor}% not for his necessity. [4.] That our hearts might not be set on the w^orld, which hath an ending, but on him that hath no beginning. The house was made for man, not man for the house. But how did God employ himself before ? Was he weary of doing nothing ? To this bad question the Hebrews made as mad an answer: that ho was making many little worlds, w^hich he as suddenly desti'oyed as he created, because none pleased him till he came to this. Another answers, that he was making hell for such busy inquisitive fools. St Augustine truly. Nee ccssando torpuit, nee operaiido lahoravit ■ he was neither idle nor weary; not more happy, but more known to be happy, by making it.

(6.) In what space was it made ? In six distinct days. God could have made it in a moment; he would not. He took leisure, non ex necessitate, sed ex voluntate. Such was the creature's disability, that when God had prepai'ed matter, it could not give itself form. As in the word and sacraments heavenly cheer is provided, yet the soul departs never the fatter, unless God give the appetite of faith. First, If the creatures had been produced all at once, they had not been so sensible of their ovra iufu-mity, us by the succession of their making. Eve had not been so welcome to Adam, had she been made at once with him.* Secondly, Ne increata riderentur,]- one seeing another created gathers his own creation from it. Thirdly, To shew the Creator's liberty and power over the creatures; he that made light before the sun, was not beholden to the sun for hght. Plants were made the third day; yet the sun and rain, which makes plants grow, not till afterward. God can cause herbs to gi'ow without the operation of heaven, without heat, dews, or influence. Fouiihly, To teach us a serious dchberation in all our luidei-taking. When perfection itself was content to take leisure, shall imperfection be rash and sudden ? Precipitation in our works makes us unlike to God: heady fool, art thou wiser than thy Maker ? The proverb tells us, ' Not too fast, we shall have done the sooner.' I am sure. Not too fast, and we shall have done the better. Fifthly, If all had been made in a moment, this had been too mystical for our apprehension; therefore he did use days and degi'ces, that our thoughts, * Aug. t Ambr.

after liim, might move paces of admiration and of thanks. He made all in six days, and rested the seventh, that we might set the seventh day apart for their special meditation, after our own works done in the six. How long should we be in contemplating on that, which he was so long a-making ?

Lastly, This commends his wonderful pro%adence, that he prepared the table before he in\dted the guests : ' Come, for now all things are ready,' Luke xiv. 17. Yea, he made the house ready for the tenant, before he made the tenant that should have the house. He created beasts, but first he made herbs and grass to feed them. He created man, but not till aU things were made fit to entertain and sustain him. By his providence, we that are born should not distrust to be kept; that provided whereby we should be kept, before we were born. He that purchaseth an inheritance for a son before he hath him, when he hath him will not disinherit him. Q-od could have done all sooner, for he works not as the creatures do. Natm-e works by degrees, little by little, as the heavens mature things on earth: art helps natm-e, by watering, manm-ing, warming. Angels work more suddenly, they have wings for their speedy expedition. God works in an instant, by his Jiat, ' said,' and ' done ;' so Christ turned water into wine. But it is one thing what God can do by his greatness, another what he will do in his goodness.

(7.) The end v^^hy all is made is for the glory of the Maker. Not ex additamento, as if God would purchase a glory he had not before; sed communicative, to manifest that glory to us, which was and is ever infinite. An excellent painter draws an exquisite piece; the exposing this to public view doth not improve his skill in himself, but make it known to others. The v/orld could not make the Maker glorious, yet is it an occasion to make him appear glorious to his creatures. Thus he made all for his own glory and our use. They of the old v/orld built an ark to save Noah, not tiiemselves. Skilful workmen made the sanctum sanctorum, whereinto being finished they might never enter. The carpenter frames a house for one more honourable than himself. God did not so: the supreme end was his own glory; the inferior and dependent, our benefit and comfort. To dwell in it himself he made it not; to be honoured by them that dwell in it, so he made it. St Augustine would have thi-ee things declared: quis fecerit, v/ho made the world ? how ? and why ? If we demand, iclio ? it is God; if how? by his word; if ivhy? because he is good.* Ncc enivi est. author excelleniior Deo, nee ars cfficacior verho, ncc causa melior bono.\ Moreover, he would have four things marked: by the perpetuity of the creatures, intelUgitur Creator ceternus, we understand the Maker to be eternal; by the magnitude, omnipoiens, almighty ; by the order and disposition, sapiens, most wise; by the government and pro\idence, homis, most good. He that is good made all good, for om- good, that we should be good and do good, to the glory of his goodness.

TJutij 1. God must be glorified in all creatm-es, because he is the Maker of all creatures: ' Thou art worthy of honour and glory, for thou hast created all things,' Eev. iv. 12. When we behold some rare piece of a skilful workman, we are not satisfied till we knov/ his name, thinking it but just to give him due commendation. There is no place that presents not to our view the unspeakable wisdom and goodness of God in the creatures. Let us not stick in the fabric, but look up to the Architect, honoui'ing him who for his honour made them. It is the argument of a dull and * De Civit. ' 1" lu Joan.

non-intelligent man, to see an excellent work without minding it; as negligent readers run over books, and never think of the author's art or tho printer's. Noii amat artifices, qui turn iutcllifjit arlrs. There is no greater disgi-ace to tho statuary-than for men to pass by a famous statue without casting eye upon it. Ubi mca legem, me agnosce, was but a rcasonablo request.

' Consider the works of God,' Eccles. vii. 13. Ho meant them not to be shghted; meditation is the means to give the Maker gloiy: ' The invisible things of God are understood by the visible,' Rom. i. 20. Ho that had no other book but this, shall be condemned at the last day for a non legit. Thus we may know God ad extra, by his effects; though non ad intra, in his essence: exjiostero tergo, licet non ex antica facie. This is his general epistle to the world, whereby he reveals his power and goodness. Man's primer, wherein he that cannot read may spell almightiness. A glass that reflects upon us the beams of infiniteness. Secidttm est speculum. A large theatre, wherein eveiy creature is either an actor or a spectator ; man is both. The ploughman's alphabet, the shepherd's calendar. Man is bound to it. (1.) Because he only hath understanding, a soul able to comtemplate, not onlj' li-om the cedar to the hj-ssop, but even from the angel to the worm, that the same hand made both, nee sujierior in illis, nee inferior in istis. It is a lean and unblest understanding that is not thus exercised. (2.) Because he hath a special day appointed for this solemn business; that he should rest from his own works, and meditate on God's works. Not that common days are exempted : he that is grinding at the mill may study on that pro\idence w^hich ordained bread for man. But there is one day of seven distinctly separated, that this exercise may be distinct^ pei'foiined. Qui Sahhatizavit cl crcando, docct nos Sabba-tizare in mcditando.

Duty 2. Let none of the Creator's glory be misplaced upon the creatures: ' AVe have nothing, but what we received.' Have we strength ? we received it; wisdom ? we received it; riches ? w^e received them. Wc made not ourselves wise, strong, or rich ; shall we glorj'' in alieno, tanquam in joro-jyrio .' Let not tho ' strong, wise, or rich, gloiy in his strength, wisdom, or riches ; but in this, that he laioweth the Lord,' Jer. ix. 2-1; Icnows him to be strong, wise, and rich ; strong m making, wise in foiTuing, rich in furnishing the woi'ld. Nor is this caution appropriated only to those Jews adjudged to captivity; but as that in the hand of the angel was an ' everlasting gospel,' Rev. xiv. 6, so this in the mouth of the prophet, is an everlasting seimon. Quadam specialiter pronuntiata, generaliter sapiunt.*

But ' most men will proclaim their own goodness,' Prov. xx. 6. liegiim nobis iuduimus aniinos;\ everyone bears tho mind of an emperor; few 'remember their Creator,' Eccles. xii. 1. Pride is ever a confusion, of old Babel that was, of new Babel it shall be. The Maker is not afraid of his creature, when it comes in competition with him ; such a feai' belongs to mortal emulation. "Wliat cares the potter for the swelling of his pitcher, which he can break, as he did fashion, at his pleasure ? Is wisdom honourable in men? Quam sapiens ille, qui sapientesfacit, yea and 'confounds the wisdom of the wise.' Is power reverenced ? Quam j)otens ille, qui 2)otentes facit, yea and makes the potent become impotent. Have riches respect ? How rich is he that gives all riches, and leaves himself never the less ? So foolish are we to glory in these things, without trembling before him whose they are.

* Tertul. t Sen.

Wliy should we do, or speak, or think, but to the praise of our Maker? For what shall God reward thee, but for that whereby men glorify God in thee ? A servant wrongs his noble master by a base carriage ; yet he is but his master, not his maker. Oh, happy man, whose conscience wit-nesseth his actions directed wholly to the glory of his Creator; that knows himself bound to nothing else, because he was made for nothing else ; whose tongue speaks his praise, whose hand works to his praise ! In the last psalm, the Rabbins have found out thirteen Halleluiahs, answering those thirteen properties of God, Exod. xxxiv. 6, 7. So he begins, so he ends ; every verse, every sentence hath his Halleluiah. After twelve comes a thirteenth, that when we have done, we may begin again with the praises of God. Here, because our life is short, we sing it in breves and semi-breves ; hereafter we shall sing it in longs, for ever. ' Lord, open thou our lips, and our mouth shall shew forth (not ours, but) thy praise.'

Duty 3. Let us humble ourselves with repentance, who have corrupted what he hath created. ' Prepare to meet thy God' in fear and humility, Amos iv. 12, lest he set forth against thee in dreadful fury. Nonfacilius struere, qudm destruere: It is as easy to pull down as to build up; he that was so mighty in the one, is not less in the other. David saith, ' I am fearfully and wonderfully made,' Ps. cxxxix. 14. Many a one may say, I am fearfully and wonderfully destroyed. If we repent not of our corruption, God will repent of our creation ; and woe to the man of whose making God shall shew himself sorry. Hence it comes, that we abuse the other creatures, because we forget ourselves to be creatui-es ; and that is violated which was made for man, even by that man which was made for God. Dm'st we surfeit to the utmost stowage and capacity of our bottoms, if we knew ourselves accountable creatm'es, and accountable for the creatures ?

Duty 4. Let us serve God with all, because he made all. The curious smith will not brook to have his files exercised upon stones ; nor the mathematician lend his engines for wasters and bandies. There is no ai-tist but would have the instruments he makes employed to their purpose. In the great workhouse of the world, or in the httle shop of man, every instrument must be used to its own purpose. Let the tongue praise God ; he made it for that purpose. As man is a little world in the great, so his tongue is a great world in the little : Grande homim, or grande malum.--'- It is either the trumpet of God's praises, or Satan's loud ordnance of blasphemy. Let the heart praise God ; he made it for that purpose. The tongue is the heart's messenger; so often as it speaks before the heart dictates, the messenger runs without his errand. He that will not speak idly, must think what he speaks ; he that will not speak falsely, must speak what he thinks. When the heart maliceth, or the tongue dissembleth, were they made for this purpose ? The knees and hands have also their offices ; let no part of the body lag behind, no afiection of the soul stray abroad; let us worship him withal, that made all for his worship. The Lord hath given us knees to bow, tongues to pray, hearts to love ; we take these blessings, and bestow them upon his enemies. The potter may err in framing his vessel, and so in anger dash the unfadging clay against the walls, God could not err in our creation, and he is still working us to his service ; if nothing will effect it, his will must be fulfilled in vengeance, whose word was not answered in obedience.

Duty 5. This corrects their sauciness, that seem to make themselves creators. Among the papists, the mass-priest takes upon him this power,

* Jerom.

to make God. Almighty men, that can make their I\Iaker; that whereas God hy his word made them, they by their word can make God; he made them of nothing, they him of a piece of bread. AMiat natiu'ian ever thought or taught, that the pot did create the potter ? Among us, God made all creatures; the rich patron thinks himself a maker too, and is ready to call a man his creature. His first gift plants him, his second waters him, third makes him grow; hie Dciis nihil fecit: now ho is his creature, as if God had done nothing for him, had nothing to do with him. This no man justifies in a direct line, but ex ohliqiio, some do in efiect; imposing such works on their creatures as cannot stand with the honour of God. Sins are offices for the dc\'il; while they so employ them, they use them worse than they do their beasts. If thy pride will thus insult over God's best creatures, the basest of all creatures, worms and fiends, shall insult over thee.

Couifurts. —That God, who did manifest such power in our creation, wiU be no less glorious in our redemption and conservation. ' He doth not despise the work of his own hands,' Job x. 3 ; he hates nothing that ho made ; there is no man but favours the efi'ect of his own worth. Let man imderstand, whether is gi'eater, juntos crcare, or inijnoti justijleare ;■■'■- to create righteous creatures, or to justify the unrighteous. Certainly, si aqualis sit utrumque potcntiic, hoc est majoris misericordicc; if both be of equal might, this last is of gi*eater mercy. The former was ojnis dir/iti, this opus brachii, that of his word operative, this of the Word incarnate. Yet he can open the eyes of the blind, that could make him eyes that had none, Isa. xlii. 6. He can raise a dead soul, that could make the soul which had no being. Thus he doth remember us of his power in tlie creation, to assure us of his grace in our redemption, though it be harder than to spread out the heavens, Isa, xlv. 18. Soon doth the potter, of phable clay, frame a vessel to his mind; let it be once hardened and deformed, it is difficult to mend it. Therefore the terms of creation are used in describing the work of our redemption ; as if it were as glorious to regenerate a man as to make a world, Eph. ii. 10; iv. 24. A clean heart is a rare blessing, it is created, Ps. Iv. 10. Peace in the heart is sweet, it is created, Isa. Ivii. 19. From hence arose Paul's bold challenge and defiance to all his enemies, Rom. viii. 35 ; Why ? they are creatm-es, and cannot cross the resolved will of their Maker. Lord, thou didst make us when we were not, for thou art glorious ; wilt thou save us that were lost, for thou £y.'t gi'acious ?

j\L\KER OF Heaven and Earth. —I come to the creation in the particulars. By heaven and earth. Gen. i., is understood the matter, and seed, where out all things were made; first created in the matter, after perfected into form, and last beautified with their ornaments; as trees and beasts in the earth, fishes in the sea, fowls in the air, stars in the sky. Here we imderstand not only heaven and earth themselves, but all the creatures which they contain in their distinct places. In this gi-eat machine, most fitly, most wisely are all the parts disposed. We know not whether more to praise the matter, the method, or the form. The head of this creation is heaven, and earth the footstool. Yet, as he that would ascend to the top of an house begins at the lowest stair, so though heaven be better, j-et earth is nearer. I will therefore first consider the place where we are, then arise to the place where wc would be.

The earth is the centre of the world, created fiiTu. Eccl. i. 4, not to bo shaken by any hands but the Maker's, when in his wrath he pleases to totter the foundations of it. This is the common sewer of all the world's corruption,

* Auft.

the receptacle of all the lees and dregs of nature. Yet how admirable is it, both for that we see on it and we may find in it. Every lineament of her face yields m^nj wonders ; an innumerable variety of beasts, worms, herbs, flowers, seeds, plants, fruits, appear. What pile of grass is there wherein we may not read the finger of Grod? 'Let the earth bring forth grass,' &c. From which divines gather that the world was made in the spring, and that Christ was crucified the same day that Adam was created, that the first might be a type of the second. The first man could call the beasts by names agreeable to their natures. Now, what son of man doth know all the beasts either by name or nature ? What herbalist can describe the virtue of every plant ? Long industry hath found out something, but (as the greatest discoverer of the woi'ld) leaves more unkno^vn behind. Strange are the treasures which the bowels of this earth hide from our eyes. Mines of metals, quarries of stone, that it is hard to say whether the back or the entrails be richer. These hath God laid up secretly and basely, that we should not over-search nor over-value them. The wealth they yield to our purses is far short of their observation to our minds. Our heart is too narrow to admire sufiiciently that we tread upon, how much less comprehensive of our Maker? But if we shall subject our hearts to that which God hath subjected to our feet, we are a baser earth than that which carries us.

The sea is comprised under this title. That great deep, the womb of moisture, the huge pond of the world, wonderful in divers respects. 1. For situation, which Ambrose and Basil collect from the psalm (civ. 6), to be above the earth. ' Thou coveredst it with the deep, the waters stood above the mountains.' It is reported of an Egyptian king, and after him of Darius, that they would have cut the earth, and joined the Nile and the Bed Sea together, but that they found it higher than the land by three cubits, and so ceased.-= But indeed it is not so ; and the Ptolemies effected that design without any danger of inundation. We see by experience the earth to be the heavier element, and so to have her foundation lowest. Yet cannot the sea overwhelm it, and this by (not miracle, but) ordinary pro\ddence, that hath so disposed it. The waters rage, foam, swell, as if they would sv\ralloTvr it up; yet the Lord shuts up this roaring element in a channel, like a barking cur in a kennel, wraps up this huge beast as a child in swaddling clouts, stays its rage by an insensible violence, and (in a wonder of nature) confineth his waves. 2. For motion. Why it moves forward, why it retires, is to us above all reason wonderful. He only that made it knows why he made it so; and by its ebbing and flowing keeps it from overflowing us, that so wrestling with itself we might live. 3. For the mnumerable creatures in it. Great whales, like living mountains, rolling up and down in those dreadful billows. Neither earth nor air can compare for wonders with the sea. Behemoth is short of the Leviathan. Yet hath the most wise God taught man to subdue this monstrous creature. Hell only hath a Leviathan more terrible than the sea. The same God teach us and help us to overcome him by our faith. Such uncountable numbers, strange shapes, various forms, and huge quantities be in the sea, that we know not whether to wonder more at the element itself or the creatures it contains. //?s«. se natnra vincit vionerosis mocUs.]- 4. For the strange art of sailing on it. That there should be a plough to delve a passage through the unwieldy ocean, a saddle for the back of that unruly beast.

Thus have I made a brief circuit of the whole earth, a short cut over the * Strabo. t Kin-

vast sea. There is yet a shorter passage than this, which is by the contempt of them both, especially in regard of that which follows, which is

Heaven. —This contains generally all that is above the earth. In this high and stately building be three stages, all called heaven—Ai-remn, Sido-reum, Empyr;enm. The first is the space from the earth to the fu-mamcnt. So we read of the fowls of heaven, the windows of lioaven. The next contains the sun and stars. The highest is invisible, that third heaven, 2 Cor. xii. 2, the glorious place where Christ sits in his manhood, and whither all faithful souls are gathered. The lowest is for fowls, vapoui's, meteors; the next for stars and lights ; the third for saints and angels. As in the division of Solomon's temple, thi-ee com-ts : the first is open for all; the second is the body of that illustrious house, wherein those radiant caudles arc continually burning; the uppermost is the holy of holies. In the fii'st is mutabihty and trouble, in the next constancy and hannony, in the highest blessedness and gloiy. The first we feel, the second we sec, the third we believe. In the two lower is no true felicity; neither the birds nor the stars are happy. Only the third heaven, celestial paradise, is the place of everlasting joy. Still the higher we go the more perfection we find. That vrhich excels another in place, excels it also in honom*—the visible firmament transcending the air, and the invisible yet more exceeding that. So let our holy thoughts, aspiring 'from one stair to another, attain at last to the top of Jacob's ladder, that empj^'eal heaven, the glorious seat of Christ.

First, let us pass through the meanest region of heaven, and nearest to om* senses, the air. Even here we find cause of admhation and praise. What variety of fowls fly up and down this heaven with then* lighter wings, of numberless shapes and colours : some preying upon others, some playing among themselves, all seeking their meat of God, who ' feeds the young ravens when they call upon him.' How can we be mute when w^e hear the Uttle birds every morning carol the praises of their Maker ? Here we feel the subtle winds, now puffing from the east, then from the west, purging the air, as the lungs fan coolness upon the heart. These we heai* whistle among the leaves, we perceive moving clouds and ships, we see not their substances, we know not their causes. These the Maker useth as particular crosses to some, but general blessings to all.

Here be the clouds, big-bellied with a burden heavier than themselves. These are driven with a violent agitation of the winds, yet hang and hold then- load till a high hand crush them. How they are supported, why they should be delivered in this place, not in that, now, not then, what natu-rahst could ever prescribe ? Yea, that these wateiy sponges should be turned into furnaces, venting their sudden fii'cs on all sides, and amazing the world with the dreadful noise of their thunders, the vapour making an eruption through the cloud, sending forth flashes that reach the eye before the roaring of the broach invades the ear, as the fire from the cannon is discerned before the report. Thus from the midst of water doth God fetch fire, and hard stones from thin vapours. How wondrous would these things be if they were not common'? This heaven contains also those meteors, blazing comets, falling stars, letters and characters of such strange variety, whereout, though we cannot read the Creator's meaning, we may read his power, and tremble to sin against him. Often we behold gulfs and gapings in the sky, bright circles, flashings in tho heavens, fires darted up and down, matter for our admiration rather than examination. Natural causes be given by rational men ; but let us look higher, to the wisdom and mightiness of an infinite God. All of these in their kinds praise the Lord,

' Fire and snow, storm and tempest, fulfilling his word,' Ps. cxlviii. 8. Let not us forget him.

The next heaven we consider hy its height, hugeness, glory. For its height: the Hebrews, by drawing this ascending line forwards on a plain, have found it to be five hundred years' journey to the starry sky ; Aratus will have it but of thirty days. Curious calculators, how are they troubled to deceive themselves ; the one making it too httle, the other too much! But such is the height, that it is a wonder our eye should reach the celsitude of it, and not be tired in the way. Let it teach us, how easily our immortal souls can go further, when our eye, fixed in a mortal head, can extend so far. Now if so high, how large ? Art teaching that the orbicular compass must be proportionable to the height. How huge a curtain hath the Maker dravra about this little point, the earth ! "We think this island spacious, yet it is not so much to the whole earth, as an inch to an acre ; the earth huge, yet were we in the starry heaven with these corporeal eyes, the whole earth would seem less to us there, than one star of that doth appear to us here. Yea, not many stars are so little as it, and yet what ample spaces be there void of stars ! How small a thing is man to the earth, earth to the sun, the sun to the heaven ; man, earth, sun, heaven, and all to the Lord! The glory of it graceth both height and magnitude: how delectable are ,the utmost walls, the ceiling and roof of this world ! How embroidered a canopy hath God drawn over the head of man ! Lights to which precious stones, in their brightest lustres, are but clouds. What is exposed to our view, is admirable ; how much more that we cannot see, which God hath charged us to believe, that we may enjoy. If the outside of the royal palace be so magnificent, if the hall appear so rare, what ornaments are in the presence and inner chamber of the King ? By that we see without, we are taught to admii-e and desire the treasures and pleasures within.

Thus high are our thoughts raised: conceiving ourselves fij-st to have passed an earthy and watery voyage, observing the wonders of God by sea and land ; then, through the threefold region, seen the bottles and spouts of rain, felt the snows and hail, heard the rattling of the thunder, opened the caves of lightning, perused the meteors, visited the outgoings of the morrdng and evening, ascended to the stars, and conversed with those fixed and yet moved fijres ; now, before we mount higher, I interpose this short meditation.

There be not two worlds ; God made but one world: this present, and that to come, are but divers parts of one and the same world. This is the morning, that the high noon; this the inn, that the home; this the gallery, that the bed-chamber. That is called future, because of om* peraiutation ; difiering like infancy and perfect stature. Travellers called the imdis-covered parts of America novum orhem, the new world, because it was new to them. So St Peter calls that a new heaven and new earth, because the earth shall be renewed, and heaven is new to us at our amval thither, "Whithersoevei sin could extend, corruption would not be kept back ; like an unhappy brood, it would follow the dam. There is nothing but labour and vanity under the sun : this is a fair house, but the tenant hath infected it; therefore he is as sure to be cast out, as ever he came in. Only the landlord's mercy lets him enjoy it for a time, that he may provide himself of another. Lo, there is a better to be had ; mansions, not pavilions, pm'chased by Christ of his Father. He that can rrake ready his fine and his rent, which is faith and a good conscience, shall be instated in a perpetuity, domus ccternitatis, an inheritance never to be lost.

This is higher than the dwelling of the sun and stars; even the receptacle of the glorified spirits, the court royal of the blessed Trinity, Such is the privilege of God's children, that here by iiiith they see him that is invisible, and enjoy him that is immense ; and so begin that heaven, which the clear vision and unchangeable fi-uition shall consimimate in the heaven of heavens. Proportionable are God's works to himself; maf/num mafjiia decent. Kings do not build cottages, but magnify their royalty in sumptuous palaces; bow glorious is that which the King of gloiy hath built for himself! If the lower side of that pavement, which the feet of the saints shall walk upon in heaven, be so glorious a ceiling to us on earth, that no art of man, or riches of the world, can sample it, what be the parlom-s and chambers unseen ? If the sun, the light of the world, be of such majesty, what is the brightness and glory of its Maker ? If but some other of the stars were let down as low as the sun, they would all appear like suns to us, which now we only wonder at in their distance. If such a firmament be adorned, such an earth prepared, for the use and benefit of God's enemies, how happy shall those eternal mansions be, ordained for his friends ! It is the feeling of his gracious presence, that makes a heaven on earth. It is the manifestation of his glorious presence that makes a heaven in heaven. Lord, thou didst make the sun and stars for us, not us for them ; them for our temporary use, not everlasting society. Raise us up as far above them, now in desire, hereafter in place, as they are yet above us; that w^hen the sun shall be darkened, and the moon tm-ned to blood, and the elements melt with heat, we may enjoy that light which shall never be put out!

In this heaven be the sun, moon, and stars, those radiant beauties of it. These were not made on several days, according to the dream of Eugubinus, but all on the fourth ; nor in succession, as Basil thought, but all at once. The sun and moon are called the ' great lights,' Gen. i. 16; not according to the Jewish fixucy, that they were both made of equal light in the beginning, and that the moon, en\ying the light of the sun, was brought into subjection, and made recipient of her hght from him; and of the beams, whereof the moon was deprived, God made the lesser stars. But the sun is a gi*eat celestial body, found by mathematicians to exceed the earth one hundred and sixty-six times in bigness ; whereas the stars of the fii'st magnitude (whereof they reckon but fifteen) exceed it but eighteen times, lieason satisfies us of the sun's great quantity ; both because when it ariseth, all the stars are hid, the less lights giving place to the gi-eater. And if it ■were not of such quantity, how could the whole earth be enlightened by it ? Lastly, because it appears of like quantity to all throughout the world ; it is not greater to us, and less to the Indians. Whereas herds of cattle afar ofi", shew hke ants ; and a ship may be discovered so fai- on the sea, till it appear no bigger than a dove.

The other great light is the moon; which the Stoics held bigger than the earth; Parmenides, equal to the sun; others, next to the sun ; but mathematicians find it less than the earth thirty-nine times, and the least of all the stars but Mercmy. Moses calls it a great hght, according to the vulgar capacity, because it is nearest of all stars to the earth, greatest in operation, and governess of the night. Of the other fixed stars, and wandering planets, there be four ends or uses. 1. To distingiiish day and night. 2. For signs of weather, especially when natural causes have begun to work ; as in the evening to presage the morning temperature ; but not to prognosticate things to come : that use would be hissed out of almanacs. 53. To serve for signs and seasons. 4. To give influence, by their heat and

motion, to these inferior parts. But to calculate nativities, to ground predictions, to find things lost; to make stars «?/rts heneficas, alias maleficas; whereas God made all good ; this study is for them, who, so they may know something of heaven while they live, are content to take another place when they die. Let not us be ambitious to know, vfhat we cannot learn, our destiny in the stars ; but to learn v/hat we may know, our names written in the book of life.

The heaven itself were but a fonnless and confused creature, without light: this is the soul of the body, the beauty of all those beauties of the world. But if God made the light, was he not before in darlmess ? No; he needs no created light, that is himself a light uncreated; no coi-poral light, that is a spiritual one. God is light, and in him is no darkness. He made this light for our mortal jom'ney on earth ; himself is the light of om- immortal abode in heaven. But if God made the light, who made darkness ? Darkness is nothing, but only the absence of light, as nakedness the want of clothing, and silence the cessation of noise. God did not dwell in this light that he made; no more than when it is said, ' The Spirit moved upon the waters,' the waters were the habitation of the Spirit; but he so moved on the creature, as the workman upon the matter which he is about to fashion ; the sun is carried about the earth, yet is not the earth the habitation of the sun. Now if one glimpse of this created light give so beautiful a lustre to all God's workmanship, how incomprehensibly glorious is that in himself? This the very beasts can behold, that not the very angels. This shines to the basest part of the creation, that only to the supreme world of blessedness.

The light was made the first day, the sun not till the fourth. Gen. i. 5. How could there be a distinction of days without the sun ? Answer. There was a division of day and night before, but a more exact division afterward. What this former light was there may be many opinions. Some take it not for a natural, but a spiritual, hght;* but not truly; for it made a visible difi'erence betwixt day and night. Some for the element of fire; but this light was moveable, whereas the elements are universally dispersed. If man had then been made, he had seen all lightsome, yet not seen from whence it came. As in a great pond we see the banks filled, we see not the springs fi'om whence that water ariseth. He that made the sun made the light without the sun, before the sun, that we might not ascribe it to the sun. The light depends on the Creator, not on the creatm-e. What light it was, where placed, how it moved, how long it continued, are fiaiit-less examinations. This observe we : God's power is not limited to means; it was easy for him to make a heaven without a sun, light without a heaven, day without a sun, time without a day. Let us allow him to be Lord of his o\va works. Never distrust we that God in the want of means, who can either give them, or save us without them. "Whatsoever we command, and want God, our poverty is miserable. Whatsoever we want, and have God, our riches are comfortable. As it was before man was made, so shall it be after he is dissolved : ' The sun shall be no more om- light by day, nor the moon by night; but the Lord shall be our everlasting hght,' Isa. Ix. 19, 20. One day again we shall have light without the sun, Ps. Ixxxiv. 11. Here we sometimes darken him to ourselves, but in heaven there is no echpse. The created sun and light are for a world inferior to themselves. God's light is only for above. He that gave this light to the sun, which the sun gives to the world, what light hath he prepared for the heavens ?

* Aug.

Here he mado a sun for us, there ho will make us 'like suns,' Matt. xvii. 2. The sun shall bo ' seven times' more ' glorious' than it is now, Isa. xxx. 26, and we seven times more glorious than it is then.

This light, thus dispersed for three days through the whole heavens, was the fourth day gathered and united to the body of the sun, that receptacle which God had ordained for it. The heaven was instead of a sun till tho sun was made. Then it pleased the Maker's wisdom that one star should be the treasury of light to heaven and earth. He made one proper centre for all things of one kind, unto which he reduceth them. Light things mount upward, heavy substances have a natural propension downward. As the waters were gathered into one sea, so the light was called into the compass of one sun. So shall all his chosen be congregated to one glory. Our souls and bodies are mado to come to him, why should our desires be scattered from him? Why do we not settle our aflections upon his Christ, and shew oiu'selves to be of the communion of saints ? Tho light of God is now dispersed into innumerable souls. It shall one day all be reconciled in himself. We are but as the heavens in their first imperfection, till we attain that centre, and be locally assembled to the presence of Christ.

Continual light would have seemed tedious to man, therefore God interchanged it with darkness. He could have made it pcq^etual; ho would not, that it might be more gi-ateful. There is nothing but God himself, whereof man would not be weary. The manna was that sweet rehsh to every palate which the palate desu'cd, yet was Israel satiate with it. Even the things which we most affect cloy us with the continuance. Therefore God made such change of creatures to answer the desu'es of man, for whom he made them. God delights in constancy, we in change. There is no variety in that which is perfect, for there is but one perfection. The more uniform the more perfect. Yet so pleasing is the vicissitude of things, that the less worthy give us more content in their intercourse than better do in their perpetuities. To walk or sit or lie continually seems a pain not tolerable. We are sick with l^'ing, therefore rise ; sick with v^'orking, therefore rest. So the day dies into night, the morning is a resurrection. Darkness keeps her turn, that light may be more welcome. There is no constant and unalterable fortune in this world, all hang together by successions. Above it shall be day for ever. The night is only for mortality, it is eternal day in heaven. Yet let us strive, in some measiu-e of resemblance, to be here as we shall be there. Let us dispel the clouds that darken our internal light, that our souls may have a continual day. If any fog be gathered in our lives, any mist arise in our consciences, let us labour, Uke the moon iinder an eclipse, to get out, abhorring the intei-position of lusts between the light of our salvation and our souls. Let us walk in the hght of this day till we come to the day of that light.

The ' third heaven.' How excellent is this world which our meditations have passed through, ourselves dwell in ! Yet how miserable in regard of our home. How is it beyond the tongue or thought of man to declare or conceive. ' No eye hath seen, nor ear heard,' &c., 1 Cor. ii. 9. Some have untruly gathered from 2 Cor. v. 1, that this heaven is etenial, never created ; but though it were ' made without hands,' yet it was ' made ;' and the apostle calls it eternal, not because it had no beginning, but because it shall have no ending. * Whose builder and maker is God,' Hcb. xi. 10. Therefore it was made. Nor is it to purpose to say. It hath always been the place of the eternal God, therefore it is an eternal place ; for the 'heaven of heavens cannot contain him,' 1 Kings viii. 27. He may there

VOL. Ill, I

give a fuller remonstrance of his majesty, but it cannot comprehend his majesty. Others demand where this heaven is, and some have thought it to be every\vhere; but then hell itself should be in heaven. It is above these visible heavens. * Christ ascended far above all heavens,' Eph. iv. 10. Others yet question why God created this third heaven, seeing his gracious presence makes every place a heaven. Answer. So it pleased him to ordain a certain place for the manifestation of his glory to the elect angels and men. This is called by Christ ' his Father's house,' and the ' kingdom of heaven,' where God is king, and ruleth all in perfect glory. It is a place our souls cannot yet comprehend, may it one day comprehend our souls.

1. This discovers the general folly of the world. Men curiously seek to keep their footing in this mortal and barren turf, without assuring themselves of that heaven which is a thousand times more glorious than the firmament. Suppose a man hath two houses, one a torn cottage, open to wind and weather, the other a princely palace, impregnable for strength, tmmatchable for beauty; the former by tenure at another's will, the other by inheritance. If he shall bestow all his care and provision in highten-ing and dressing the uncertain and beggarly shed, leaving the other unregarded, is he not mad ? God hath provided for us two houses, the one of

* clay, whose foundation is in the dust,' Job iv. 19, the other of gold and precious stones, * sapphires and chrysolites,' Rev. xh. Yet what labour and cost is there to patch up the ruins of this homely cabin, with what price do we buy a little physic to rectify it ? Yet will scarce be at the small necessary charges of the other. Not break a sleep, nor fast a meal, nor part with a superfluity of our substance, for an eternal mansion in heaven. How much gold will the rich worldling give to save his life ? How small a cost doth he think sufficient for his soul ? He mil forbear a dish that he loves, upon the physician's warning, for the one; he wiU scarce forbear a sin, upon God's warning, to save the other. Fond man! this house shall be taken from thee; the sun shall not shine to thine eyes; those holes shall be filled with darkness; then prepare thyself for that other, which before the world was prepared for thee. Break ofi" thy sins by repentance, hate the vice that may stop thy passage to bliss. Flatter not thyself with a treasure of conversion in thy own hands; but seek the Lord while he may be found, lest when thou wouldest find him, he be then to seek.

2. Be content with thy condition here, be it poverty, or sickness, or disturbance ; there is a third heaven shall make amends for all. How vahantly did Paul undergo his burden, encouraged with this consideration!

* I look not to the visible things, that are temporal, but to the invisible, that are eternal,' 2 Cor. iv. 18. 0 the different departm-es of the reprobate and Christian ! The one dies howling, the other rejoicing ; the one knows he changeth for the better; the other mistrusts, for the worse ; to the one death is a gulf of sorrow, to the other a port of liberty; he, because he is stripped for a scourging; this, because he lays off his clothes, after his toil, to go to bed. Little cared Abraham to change his dwelling so often, that knew a country provided for him to dwell in for ever. Queen Elizabeth, being a prisoner in her sister's days, wished herself a milkmaid for freedom: but had she then foreseen her own future fortunes, so long, so prosperous, 80 glorious and blessed a reign over this kingdom, she would not have admitted that thought. All our loathness to depart, and fears in departing, arise from our own unsettledness ; we have not made sure to ourselves a

MEDITATIONS UPON THE CREED.

131

dwelling m these glorious heavens; many mansions there he, John xiv. 2, we have not provided ourselves one. Did wo truly value it, ahove all cities, crowns, kingdoms, pleasures, inheritances, comforts, how could wo but set our hearts upon it, or rather upon him that bought it for us, and us for it! Wo would then say with David, ' Woo is me that I must remain in Meshek ;' with Simeon, ' Now let thy servant depart;' with Elias, ' I am weaiy of my life;' an end, good Lord. We would bo far from lingering and hankering after this Baca of tears, and wilderness of fears, were we sure that this removal should diy our eyes, and end all om- labom's.

' Our light momentary affliction worketh for us a far more exceeding and etei-nal weight of glory,' 2 Cor. iv. 17. A superlative, transcendent phrase, not to bo found in any heathen rhetoric, because they never wrote of such a theme, nor with such a spirit. What is here in the world but vexation ? for a minute of peace, months of trouble; for a dram of honey, pounds of gall and aloes; our souls, like Noah, find no resting for the soles of their feet, till they come to this mount Ararat; whither their works follow them, where their sorrows leave them.

Believing and remembering this, why should we either so mourn for our departed fi-iends, or fear for our departing selves ? Jacob thought some evil beast had devoured Joseph, while Joseph was alive, and triumphing in Egj'pt. Those saints are not lost, but gone before us to the joys of this heaven : they may praire, not perire. Let us long to be with them, more than scholars do for hohdays, apprentices for freedom, spouses for marriage, labourers for their wages, husbandmen for harvest, heu's for their inheritance, or princes for their kingdoms. I could wish to hold yom- thoughts longer in this blessed court; whither, you are not so unkind to yourselves, as not to wish your own anival. But it is only the Spirit of God that can imprint these patterns in our hearts; that at all times we may remember them, especially in that gi-eat and solemn day of our death, when Satan will be busiest, and om'selves weakest. 0 then let us think of these unspeakable comforts ; how our souls leave a broken and ruinous cage, the keeper unlocking the door; with what vivacity they shall pass through the lower regions of the air, pierce the clouds, go by the moon, sun, and stars, transcend the firmament, and those higher orbs, cheerfully mounting up to the glorious gates of eternal light and life, be welcomed by saints and angels to the court of blessedness, and possessed of those dchghts which know neither measure nor end.

The Ceeation of Man. —The world is a gi-eat man, and man is a httlo world. QitantiUum dominum posuit Deus in tantvm dominium? a httle lord over a great lordship. I will discourse of him first in general, then of his special parts. Hominem, adhominem, de homineloquentem, doceatfactor hominimi. The points be six. 1. The preparation to his facture. 2. The model or form. 3. The time. 4. The place. 5. His dignity. 6. His society.

1. The preparation to his making ; ' Let us make man,' Gen. i. 26. Other creatures were made by a simy\c fiat; man not without a divine consultation of the blessed Trinity; not for the difficulty, but dignity of the work; it was not more painful, but more noble. Here was something to be produced on the sixth day, better than all the visible works of the former. The rest were made at once, man was first formed, and then inspired ; as God did seem to be deliberate in the purposing, so he used degrees in the making. The painter will be studious about that which he means to make his masterpiece. This was to bo the crown of God's works on earth, as the angela are in heaven.

2. The form after wliich man was made is the image of his Maker. Other creatures are made in several shapes, hke to none but themselves: man after the image of God. He that made all things would have something somewhat to resemble himself. Wherein consists this image ? First, Eugubinus thought that God did take a human shape when he made man, but that could not be his image if he had assumed it; this was the error of the anthropomorphites. Secondhj, Some say, 'after the image of God;' because like that nature which Christ was to assume ; but Christ took our likeness, not we his. Thirdhj, Some understand it for the soul's immortahty; Damascene, for the free will; Chrj^sostom, for dominion over the creatures. Fourthhj, Others, because as all things are originally in God, so by participation in man; he partakes with the stones in being, with the plants in grooving, with the beasts in moving, with the angels in understanding. And as God is the principal end of all things, so man the secondaiy and subordinate, for whose use they were made. And, as all things had their being from God, so all men had theu* beginning from Adam. St Augustine hath seven several conceits, which I mention not. The most, with the master of the sentences, think this image to consist in reason and understanding; save that some also add charity. These be the conceits of men.

God teacheth us otherwise ; expressly, that this image consists ' in knowledge, holiness, and righteousness,' Eph. iv. 24, Col. iii. 10. First, Such as is the image of God renewed, such was it created; but it is renewed in these; therefore secondly, if this image were in the substance of the soul, wicked men and spirits had the image of God: for the substance of spirit and soul is in them still. Thirdly, Dens non damnat imaginem suayn ;■•' God doth not destroy his own image; but the soul of the reprobate is damned. That image of God wherein we were created, is not condemned but crowned; but only the righteousness of the soul is crowned. Fourthly, that image of God which man received in his creation, he utterly lost by his transgression, otherwise it needed no renewing. But the substance of the soul, with the natural faculties, was not lost,f therefore this image could not consist in that. The whole man in his inward and outward part in-veteravit; the inward is now renewed by regeneration, the outward shall be restored by the resurrection. Now there needed no repairing, if there had been no impairing, nor decay; nee restitutio seqneretur, nisi destitutio pra-cesserat. Fifthly, that image which is naturally begotten is not God's ; it is absurd to think that image propagated; as ' Adam begat a son, in his own likeness, after his image,' Gen. v. 3. Therefore this image was not in man's substance, but in his knowledge and conformity to the will of God.

God is alone, after his own singular manner, simple, infinite, glorious. It is impossible that any creature should be hke him in his proper being, because it is a creature. What is finite to infinite, mixed to simple, weak to omnipotent? There can be no perfect resemblance of God; yet of all visible creatures man comes nearest to it. Most creatures are all body, angels are all spirit, man is body and spirit. Nor yet is this correspondence in his natm-al faculties, but in his divine graces. Wisdom and holiness was the first copy fi'om which they were di-awn. So long as we were wise and good we were like to God. We made ourselves sinners, and sin made us fools. In our creation we were like God, by transgression we became unlike ourselves. While we now commend man, we praise him to his shame. He that magnifies the ruins of Zion never saw her in her perfect beauty. The honour of man as he is, is a disgi'ace to what he was; the better we * Ambr. t Aug.

were, wc are the worse, as the sons of some lavish cr taintcci ancestors tell of the lands and lordships that once were theirs, or as hlind Samson should talk of his former valour. Yet how hath God's goodness overcome our badness, sending the image of his own person to restore us the image of our creation! 0, let the readiness of our desires be answerable to the gi'acious-ness of his mercies, seeking to redeem what we have lost, to recover in Christ what we have lost in oui'selves. If our damage turn not to our benefit, the second fault is ours. We may be better in the second Adam than ever we were in the first, stand surer in grace than wo did in nature, if our faith be as strong now as our condition was flexible then.

8. The time of man's creation, the sixth day. The stage being fully prepared, man was brought upon it, as an actor and spectator: an actor, that he might not be idle; a spectator, that he might not be discontent. Earth is made ready for his use, heaven for his contemj^lation. He saw the heaven a glorious place, but far off. See it he might, not reach it; God will therefore make him a little heaven upon earth, lit him with a paradise at home. If he had been ordained immediately for heaven, as were the angels, what needed a body? If appointed to live always on the earth with beasts, what needed a soul? If he had not been to dwell a while upon the earth, his body had been superfluous; if to dwell ever there, his soul had not been so happy. Therefore, as God ordained a heaven for his soul, so an image of heaven for his body. He was enabled both to contemplate and to do. If only to contemplate, some vast wilderness or barren mount might have served. But he that gave him a heart to meditate gave him also business to do; hands fit to work, and work fit for his hands.

He was created in a perfect age, his body being fit for generation, as it appears by the charge following his facture, ' Increase and multiply;' and immediately after his fall was Cain begotten. Some think he was made about the years that Christ died, but it is most likely rather when the patriarchs were fit to generate, about sixty-five, for under those years none of them begat children. Gen. v. 12. So adding sixty and five to nine hundred and thirty, Adam will appear to have lived longer than Methuselah or any of the patriarchs. But that he was a giant, able to wade over the ocean, this is a Je\\ish fancy. The sight of his eyes and reason of his soul were perfect at once, and the objects which both apprehended gave him cause to apprehend himself blessed. If we could now conceive in meditation what he then perceived in fruition! When he fii'st opened his eyes he saw a glorious heaven above him, a steady and pleasant earth vmder him, serviceable creatures about him, a perfect understanding and peaceable conscience within him, a glorious God before him; and he knew as well what all these things meant as if he had been long acquainted -with them. Thus when God had made the gi*eat house of this world and furnished it, then he brought in the tenant to possess it. An empty palace is a fair gift of a king to his subject, though he be not at the charges to adorn and supply every room with answerable furniture; the bare wall had been too good for us. But he that mcasm-es his gift by his own goodness, so beautified this world for man, whom, above the world, he beautified for himself.

4. The place where he was made and set to dwell was paradise; as if the common earth had not been good enough for him, but a garden. The whole earth was excellent, this was the best part of it. This place was for pleasure, for labour, for instruction, to delight him, to exercise him, to teach him.

(1.) For pleasure. Such was the Maker's bounty, not only extending to life, but to the happiness of hfe. Every part of earth would yield fruits enough for Adam's sustentation, this shall also for his delectation. He that made all things good, did also provide that they might be well; their solace was his care, so well as their being. Not only competency, but abundance, may stand with innocence. That vita vitalis requires a confluence of many good things. They are too rigid and austere that forbid lawful delights. Let no teacher make the way to heaven more thorny than God himself made it and meant it. Those idolaters cut and mangle their own flesh in their sacrifice. But for whom was this service ? Not for God, but for BaaL I cannot believe that God will ever give a papist thanks for whipping himself. Our lawful pleasures are his pleasures, and our (unbidden) wrongings of our own selves are his injuries. That is a superstitious worship which makes the worshippers miserable. God delights not in our blood, but when the witness of his glory calls for it. The world hath ways enough to vex us ; we need not be our own tormentors. It is no credit to a man's holiness that he condemns all recreation. Let me look to please God, and then know that he hath made the world to serve me. Men may eat and drink even to honest delight, so withal they worship the giver, Ps. xxii. 29, and do not like Esau, who ' did eat and drink, and rose up, and went Lis way,' Gen. xxv. 34, never minding the author; no grace, but full, rose up, went his way.

I (2.) For labour. Paradise was not only to delight his senses, but also ±0 exercise his hands ; as bees love to be in gardens, yet must there work out ilieir honey. In every pleasure there is some labour ; the hunter's sport <Joth oft bring him home weary. All Adam's delights could not make him iappy had his life been lazy. The state of innocence did not except him from diligence. Idleness might not be tolerated either by the perfection of Lis nature or command over the creatures. After his fall labour was inflicted as a punishment; before his fall it was not dispensed with as inconvenient. How many sons of Adam still take delight in dressing gardens and planting nurseries ? He is, therefore, no sooner made than set to work. Before he sinned his labour was without necessity, without pains, without weariness ; if there be now sorrow in it, we may thank sin for it. In paradise all things laboured for man, now man must labour for all things. Adam did work because he was happy; we, his children, must work that we may be happy. Heaven is for joys, hell for pains, earth for labour. The first whole day that ever man spent was a holy day, the six following were work days. Let us labour that we may rest; the more cheerfully we go about our lawful business the nearer we come to our paradise. Christianity is a vocation, not a vacation : ' Work out your salvation with fear and trembhng,' Phil. ii. 12. ' Work:' this is arjere, to do; 'work out,' be instant, constant in it: this sat agcre, to do sufiicient; 'your salvation,' keep the right course : this is hoc agere, to do the best. Our labours end with our lives, our rewards end not with our labours.

(3.) For instruction. God did teach man's heart by that he did exercise his hands. There were two principal trees in the garden, the tree of life and the tree of knowledge. Other trees had a natural use, these a spiritual; they were Adam's sacraments.

The ' tree of life ;' not because it was able to give immortality, or to preserve fi"om death till man was translated to immortality. Some schoolmen* hold that it had a power to preserve from death by a natural faculty; * Tostat. Scotus, Aqiiin., Perer.

Bonaventura, by a supernatural foculty. But, indeed, by eatinp; its fniit it could do neither ; no food that is cormptible can make the bo(h' incorruptible, for neither the fruit could nourish without its own comiption, nor maintain life without nourishment. If man had not sinned ho had not died; but for this immortality ho was beholden to his creation, not to the tree. And without sin he had lived ; eat what fruit ho would, saving only one. It is called the tree of life, not effective, but sifjni/icatire ;* not for operation, but signification; being a figure of that true immortality which man should have enjoyed from God, continuing in his obedience. So the Scripture expounds it, symbolically, Prov. iii. 18 ; Kev. ii. 7. This was one sacrament, to assure Adam continuance of happiness, upon his perseverance in holiness. Albeit God, that ordained the end, immortality of life, did not appoint this fruit the effectual means of that life ; yet certainly it served to nourish the soul, by a lively representation of that tree whose fruit is eternal life.

The ' tree of knowledge;' not because it gave knowledge speculative, but experimental. For if it had bettered their knowledge it had been their gain, not theii* loss. But it was another sacrament; to shew man that, if he transgressed God's commandment, he should die, and so come to an experimental knowledge of good and evil. Life is the act of the soul, knowledge is tho life of the soul: the tree of knowledge, and the tree of hfe, were ordained as earthly helps of the spiritual part. The one was for confirmation, the other was for probation or trial; the one shewed him what Ufe he should have, the other what knowledge he should net wish to have. But when he had tasted of the tree of knowledge, he might not taste of the tree of life : that immortal food was not for a mortal stomach. God gave him the one, and forbade the other; now qui arripitit proJiihitam, amisit concessam: by taking that was prohibited, he lost that was allowed. Yet he that drove him from the visible tree promised him that invisible tree, whereof the other was a symbol or sacrament, Christ. So now at once he perceives his own death by the sense of reason, and apprehends his future life by the eye of faith.

All our tastes ai"e too much seasoned with the forbidden fniit, nitimur in vetitum, aipimusqite vef/ata. There is a tree of hfe, let us hunger after that. None but repentant sinners can relish it: let us repent that we have eaten, believe that we may eat, and eat that we may live for ever. Adam in that visible tree saw his Saviour, ere he had need of a Saviour; he saw the means of a heavenly life, before he had lost the earthly. Wo have a clearer evidence, why then have we not a stronger faith ? The tree of hfe was nailed to the tree of death, that we who fell by the tree of death might come to the tree of life. When we contemplate that paradise wherein man was created, we conceive it a place of such joy, that our thoughts want place to apprehend it. Yet that paradise, to which man is predestinated and redeemed, doth more exceed that than that exceeded a barren desert. Let others vainly trouble their wits to seek that paradise which is lost; let us set our hearts to seek that paradise which may be found. When Adam had sinned, that earthly paradise was shut; when Christ had died, this heavenly paradise was set open. From thence we were cast out in Adam, hither we are admitted in Christ. Ho that took that from us in justice, promised this to us in mercy. That could contain but a few, this hath room enough for us all. We made ourselves unfit for that by sinning ; the Lord make us fit for this other by believing !

* Aug.

5. The clignity of man; ' Thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour,' Ps. viii. 5. Paulo inferiorem amjelis, multo superiorem reliquis. First, He had a sweet communion with God, his soul and hody being a sanctuary for his Creator; many familiar passages and conferences interceding between them. It was sin that caused Adam to hide himself; fear follows guilt, and sin is the mother of shame. But some sparks of divinity appearing in Christ, Peter cries, Beccde; ' Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 0 Lord,' Luke v. 8. How pleasant is the tranquiUity of soul arising from the assurance of pardon! How inconceivable was that delight when the soul needed no pardon ! Then, such was the wondrous beauty of his body, such a majesty resulting from his face, that it struck a reverence and awe into all the creatures : ' The dread of you shall be upon all things, for into your hand they are delivered,' G-en. ix. 2 ; so that they neither durst nor could rebel against man. While he served his Creator, he was feared of every creature.

More than this, he had a patent of dominion over them. Gen. i. 26. He that made man and all the rest, jjrceposidt, set man over all the rest. To witness this subjection, they present themselves before him as their lawful king. Some have conceited Adam sitting in some high and eminent place as in a chair of state, his face shining brighter than Moses's, and every beast coming as he was called, and bowing the head as he passed by, being not able to behold his majesty. But certainly, by a secret instinct from God, they were gathered to Adam, 'he brought them,' Gen. ii. 19. Wherein he might admire his Maker's bounty, behold his own excellency, exercise his own authority, and, lastly, shew his wisdom;—

Which was great. (1.) In natural things, for the name was given according to the nature; therefore he understood at fii-st the propriety of every creature. But it is objected that ' Solomon was wiser than all men; none like him before, none arose like him after,' 1 Kings iii. 12. And he understood the nature of plants, beasts, fowls, and fishes ; of ' everything,' chap. iv. 33. Tostatus doth prefer Solomon before Adam for wisdom. Answer: This is spoken of the common generation of men, excepting both the first Adam and the second: the former being created without sin, the other born without sin. So that until Christ, certainly Adam was the wisest man. (2.) In supernatural things ; he was not ignorant of the mystery of the Trinity, in whose image he was made. (3.) In future things; he had some knowledge of Christ to come, though not yet as a Redeemer, yet perhaps as the author and fountain of life, whereof that tree was a symbol. Of the fall of angels I know not whether he had knowledge; because Eve was without suspicion, who else would have been cautelous of such a conference.

Thus God gave the nature to his creatures, Adam must give the name; to shew they were made for him, they shall be what he will unto him. If Adam had only called them by the names which God imposed, this had been the praise of his memory; but now to denominate them himself, was the approval of his judgment. At the first sight he perceived their dis' positions, and so named them as God had made them. He at first saw all-their insides, we his posterity ever since, with all our experience, can see but their skins. Therefore are they presented to their new lord, to do their first homage, and to acknowledge their temire. Thus did God honour man, before man did dishonour God and himself. The lions crouch at his feet; the bears and tigers tremble at his look; the eagle stoops to his call; he commands, the behemoth and leviathan obey. He can now stoop the

hawk to his lure, send the dog of his eiTand, teach one fowl to fetch him another, one beast to purvey for his table in the spoil of others ; but this is by art and violence, then it was by nature, without compulsion or resistance. Here I find cause to condemn tlirce opinions.

(1.) That man in his innocency should have slain the beasts to help his experience, by taking knowledge of their inward parts ; or for his sport and delight in hunting, or for his sustentation in eating. =;'■ But this is not likely, for ' death entered by sin,' Rom. v. 12; if there had been no sin, no death could have seized upon either lord or servant. Ad imtm craiit, non ad esinn. The killing of beasts, on what occasion soever, whether for food, for knowledge, or pleasure, belongs unto the bondage of coiTuption, which sin brought with it. 'I have given you the herb, the tree, the frait,' Gen i. 29; finiit, not flesh. Homo immortalis vivebat ex fntctibus, homo moiiaUs vh-it ex mortihns.\ The beasts should not have died for us, if we had not been dying in om'selves. I am persuaded, if man had not sinned, no beast should have been killed. I dispute not their question, that think the beasts remaining at the resurrection shall be preserved. But let this temperate om* authority fi'om unmerciful tyranny; it was sin that made us butchers, and taught the master to eat the sen'ant.

(2.) The anabaptists, from that general gi-ant. Gen. i. 20, would fetch their confused community, and teach eveiy son of Adam to challenge a free use over all the creatm-es; as if, because the fishes of the sea be common, therefore also the fishes in every pond. But it is a gi'oss collection, for the gift must be used according to the will of the giver. Now as he gave this liberty, so he distinguished a propriety. We may drink the milk of kine, but of our o^^■n kine ; wear the wool of sheep, but of our own sheep, or Buch as oiu" money hath bought and made our ovm. . These men have robbed the decalogue of the eighth commandment, as the papists have of the second. An en-or that hath in it, we know not whether more impotence or impudence, so barbarous that the best con^-iction is the magistrate's bastinado. He that will steal a horse by a counterfeit warrant out of the Scripture, is well worthy to be confuted with a halter,

(3.) Those that have wTung blood out of the nostrds of reason, in framing arguments to the dishonour of man, thinking it the credit of their wits to vilify whom God doth thus dignify—man. Tully, prince of the academics, was transported with such a fuiy, he rails on nature, calls her step-dame for bringing man into the world naked and weak, and so makes him inferior to the brutes, whom God hath made little inferior to the angels. The Lord hath thus honoui'cd man, and yei who but man could thus dishonour the Lord ? There be such degenerate men, content to proclaim themselves bastards that they might disgi-ace all their fraternity. An opinion, that like a blazing meteor is dissolved in the wind, and in its dissolution vanisheth ; as if God had made him the worst of all creatures whom he meant to make the best. Here, as David speaks, ' If the enemy had only reproached me,' Ps. Iv. 12, if the wrong were only man's, we might be silent; but God is injured in his workmanship, et per lateni homimim petitur Creator homimim.\ Let me propoiiion a censure fit for these ccn-Burers : Ne praferantur briitis, qui bruta prafcrunt; if they will prefer beasts before men, let their portion be among the beasts. For us let us honour God in man, who hath honoured man next himself; inferior to the angels in our nature, superior to the angels in the advancement of our nature, assumed by the image of his o^vn person, Jesus Christ.

• Basil; Perer. f Greg. % Lactant. de opific. Dei.

6. Plato and some of the Hebrews thought that Adam was created at first both man and woman, and was afterward divided into twain; or that they were both at first made together, but joined by their sides, hke concoi-porate twins, and after parted: they have too many such fables and fooleries. So the poets came in with their apish fictions : Hesiod with his Pandora, whom Vulcan made, all the gods adoring, adorning, and contributing to her; Venus gave her beauty, Pallas comehness. Mercury wit—whereupon she was called Pandora; which, opening the lid of the tun, divided care and gi'ief to men who lived before without. They would beUeve Hesiod of hi« Pandora; not Moses, nor God himself, concerning his Eve.*

The woman hath many adversaries that disdain her competition with man. Some will not allow her a soul, but they be soulless men. God ' in his image created them,'' Gen. i. 27, not him only, but him and her — them., ' male and female ;' therefore she hath a soul. Some will not allow her to be saved; yet the Scripture is plain, ' she shall be saved by child-bearing,' 1 Tim, ii. 15. ' Two shall be gi'inding at the mill,' ducB, two women, so is it originally ; ' one of them shall be saved,' Matt. xxiv. 41. Though Christ honoured our sex in that he was a man, not a woman, yet he was born of a woman, and was not begot of a man. And howsoever wdcked women prove the most wicked sinners, yet the worst and greatest sin that ever was done, was committed by man, not by woman—the crucifying of our Lord Jesus; not a woman had a hand in it; even Pilate's wife was against it, charging her husband ' to have nothing to do with that just man.' AVoman was the principal in killing the first Adam, himself being accessory. But, in killing of the second Adam, man was the principal, and woman had not a finger in it. In a word, God in his image created them both on earth, and God in his mercy hath provided them both a place in heaven! Concerning the creation of woman, I observe three things : man's necessity, God's bounty, and the woman's conveniency.

(1.) Man's necessity. A whole world to use, and so many millions of creatures to command, had not been a perfect content for him without a partner. For Adam ' there was not a help found meet for him,' Gen. ii. 20. He saw all the creatures, he saw them fit to be his servants, none to be his companions. Not that the necessity was such as if the Maker's wisdom could not have multiplied man without the woman. According to the Hebrew paradox, nothing is good but a woman; which others lewdly thwart with a pseudodox, nothing is bad but a woman. But it was, First, For mutual society and comfort. She is compared to a vine : for its fair shadow and arbor of leaves, Refrigerium, a refreshing to her husband. When he comes from his labour abroad, Latahitur sub vite sua, is his welcome home. Secondly, For the propagation of the world, she is a ' fi'uitful vine,' which is one means of her salvation, as one end of her creation ; if they be fnictus nativitatis sucb, liberi, not sjmrii: children, not bastards. Thirdly, To increase the church of God, and by replenishing the earth, to supply and stort the kingdom of heaven. Fourthly, That fi-om her might come that ' promised seed' which alone doth savo as all.

Therefore it was God's charge, ' Increase and multiply;' and his provision, ' It is not good for man to be alone.' To condemn that * doctrine of devils,' which loads this holy estate with their dung-carts fall of reproaches. Misliking all their former answers, they now say. This Crescite is not a precept, for it was given to beasts not capable of precepts, and it should then bind all men, not only to marry, but to multiply by marriage; therefore

* Orig. ad Cels.

they will have it only an institution of nature and promise of fecundity. But here they fight with their own shadows, for wo do not say that it is a commandment binding all, but a liberty granted to all; in the bairing of which liberty lies their sin. ' When you are persecuted in one city, flee to another,' saith Christ; yet he sinueth not that flicth not, when his faith is strong enough for the trial. Some have the gift of continency, which supplies this necessity ; but to constrain him to Uve without a wife, who cannot live without a concubine, is to enforce a necessity of sinning, where God hath giving the faculty of avoiding it. Before the fall, mari'iage was in bene-Jicium, now also in remedium. And though, in some respects, Felicior cmlibatns, single life is more happy; yet matrimonium tntius, always marriage is more safe. Moses was a married man, Elias avii'gin ; Elias called fire from heaven, Moses obtained manna from heaven. Elias was a waggoner iu the air, mounted through the clouds in a chariot; Moses was viator in marl, a traveller through the sea : God honoured them both alike. The smell of the floiuishing vino drives away sei'pents and venomous creatures : the love of the wife, seasoned vnth. the fear of God, is a supersedeas and bar to all Satan's temptations.

(2.) God's bounty. When man was made, we do not read that he found the want of an helper: he that enjoyed God could want no contentment. The contemplation of the new made world, and the glory of the Maker, did so take him up that he had neither leism-e nor cause to complain. Should he beg of God a companion, this had been to disesteem the happiness of his condition, to gnidge at his Maker's goodness, and uuthankfuUy to have questioned his own perfection. As too many of his sons make themselves unworthy of that they have by coveting that they want, which they might want and be never the worse, may have and be never the better. Adam found not this want in God, but God found this want in Adam. He that made him, and knew him better than he knew himself, saw his want and supplied it, giving him comfort iu a creatwe beside him, that had enough in his Creator above him. And rather than his innocence shall want a companion, God win begin a new creation. Before we can see om- defects, God forsees them, and is then pro\'iding relief for us, when we feel no cause to complain ; building a rampart for us, before the enemy comes to plant any ordnance against us. Still he watcheth over his * beloved,' even ' while they sleep,' Ps. cxxvii. 3. How will ho supply our necessity that thus stores us with superfluity ?

When he effected this, he did cast Adam into a ' deep sleep,' Gen. ii. 22, that neither his sight might be offended, nor his sense oppressed ; sleep being a binder up of the senses. Would he not have yielded this rib waking ? yes, doubtless; to such a Maker, and for such a pui-pose, most cheerfully. But as Adam knew not while himself was made, so he shaU not know while his other self is made out of him. God will so magnify his goodness, that he shall receive his happiness before ho expect it; that his joy in it, and thankfulness for it, may be the gi-eater. So God ' built the woman;' she is called a building. First, Because man was an imperfect building without her. Secondly, Because the building of the family is by her ; so the Hebrews call a son hen, of hanah, to build. Man in marriage is said rcparare latus suum, to repair his maimed side ; and repetere costam suam, to require his o\mi rib. And the woman is thither reunita, unde tublata, reduced to her first place. The inscription she bears, is donum and boniim, the gift of God ; ' he brought her to the man,' it was his new-world's gift, the like whereof was not to be found in all the riches of nature.

(3.) The woman's convenieucy and fitness for man. She was not made out of the earth, which was the matter of man; not out of the inferior creatures, which were the servants of man; but out of himself, that she might be dear in estimation, and equal in condition, to him. Therefore she took her denomination from him, as her being out of him : of ish, isha; of man, woman. The school hath curious questions : whether this was one of Adam's necessary and substantial parts, or a superfluous and supernumerary rib? If it had been superfluous, God had not made it and given it him; if he had been imperfect without it, God had not taken it from him. There is diflerence between things usefid and convenient, and those that be necessaiy. Therefore, if in God's sight man could not well have wanted it, it had been easy enough for him to make the woman of the bone, and to turn the flesh into another bone. But he so multiplied the spirits, so animated it, that it should never be missed, or give cause of complaint. * This is bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh,' saith Adam, Gen. ii. 23; not so much for the contemplation of her hkeness, or consideration of her fitness, or sensible alteration in himself, as for the knowledge of her matter, and to shew his authority over her. He gave a name unto her, ' She shall be called woman.' If she had been made by the request or will of Adam, or with the pain and detriment of Adam, she might afterward have been upbraided with her dependency and obhgation. Now she owes nothing but to her Creator. Adam can no more challenge aught from her for his rib, than the earth can challenge fi'om him. From a rib to a helper, was an happy change. "Who was ever a loser by God's alteration ? Whatsoever we have is his. When he taketh from us his own, which we had, he will give us better things, which we shall keep. He that gave man a woman to his helper, gave him by that woman a man to be his Saviour.

Conclusion. —When we see the heavens, the sun, and stars, we have good cause to say, ' 0 God, what is man ?' Yet all these creatures hath he made for one, and that one almost the least of all. The smallest dust or sand is not so little to the whole earth, as man to heaven. Yet all the creation hath not more wonder in it, than is in man. They were made by a mere Jiat, man by consultation ; they at once, man by degi'ees ; they in shapes hke to none but themselves, man in the image of God ; they with qualities fit for service, man for dominion; they had their names from man, man from God. When he had di-awn this real map, built the substantial fabric of the world, he did abridge it all into the small tablet of man. He alone consists of heaven and earth, soul and body. When we say, ' Maker of man,' we include, * Maker of all the world.' The price and virtue of things consists not in the quantity. One diamond is worth many quarries of stone ; one loadstone hath more virtue than mountains of earth; one herb in the garden is better than whole fields of weeds ; we say the leg of a lark is better than the whole body of a kite; we value an ounce of gold more than a talent of lead. Nor do I in this praise man, but God in man. The Maker must be glorified in all, but especially in the best of all. It is fit we should be consecrated to God above others, upon whom he hath bestowed more cost than on others. This is the end why he hath made us, to manifest his glory in us. His wisdom, goodness, mercy, is seen in all; but who can take notice of it so well as man ? None but he can see what God hath done; none but he can admire and adore him in what he seeth. Why should we do anything else but honour God, seeing he hath made us only able to honour him ? Think, 0 man, why thou wert made, and do not dishonour thy Maker. Let us cast ourselves down at his footstool, with

our knoos on the ground, and from the ground of our hearts say, All honour and praise, all thanks and obedience, be to God, our Creator, for ever.

Thus of man in general. Other visible creatures are ^vholly coqDoral; the invisible are vvhoUy sph-itual. Man is both corporal and sensible in his Tod spiritual in his soul. He is the figure and abstract of heaven and earth and doth in his little contain as much. Consider the earth, whether ouUv^i^ly in her best prime, when the spring hath decked her over mth Lgi-ant and beauteous flowers ; yet they are but dull m regard of tlie face of man, whose coloui'S are more lively and pleasing like drops ol b ood unon beds of snow. Or inwardly, he hath veins for her mines, bones for her'ocl muscles for her quames. Heaven hath a swift motion, yet the fma'inatiin of man far outstrips it. Their motion is contmua man s mind i^m^ortal. For the plants and grass of the earth, man ^ath -•c,.»..»^a ornamenta, his hairs. For the sun and moon in heaven, man l^aUr e es to mve his body light. Yea, there is more m this htlle man than m the Teat-orld; as the philosopher was more confounded in the small fly, Sns derhicr her parts, than in the great elephant with his members. Now et's consider hL ik his parts ; and herein fu-st of Ins ^o^J^ ^^^no^^^ soul. Concerning his body, I consider four cu'cumstances , the matter, the honour, the order, and the wonder. ^ r,. ^ ,„.i>r^T,

1 The matter of it. « God foi-med man of the dust of the ground. Gen. u 7 • not to be the soul's sepulchre, as Plato taught but the soul s organ to execute what she dedicates. This was not a slimy matter, mixed of earth and water; but the dust, the thinner and f 7\P^^V 1 ! oT W Man was at fii-st of that element composed, unto which he shal be a ast resolved • this was dust. ' Dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return a-ain,' Gen. iii. 19. Certainly, his was a more excellent constitution than fl^y other creature's ; a temper fit for the instrument of such a soul.

(1.) Others, by reason of their cold and gi-oss humours gi'ow over: beasts with hairs, fowls with feathers, fishes with scales Man is smooth and clear ; God shining upon him as the sun upon a plam glass ; on the rest as upon uneven clods, neither apt to receive nor reflect his beams.

(2 ) His form and proportion exceed the rest; his members being disposed to a ready use, a hand to machinate and perfect the invention of his head. (3 ) The uprightness of his stature gives him pre-emmence. Iheir laces are set to look downward ; man hath an erected and exalted countenance ; ad sidera tollere vultm. And in the majesty of this carriage, he makes a demonstrance of his dominion over the rest. . , , ., ^

(^) Thoucrh they may excel him in the quickness of some sense— the eade in seefng, the dog in smelling, the mole in hearmg, the spider m eehng^^and for^'strengthrthe horse is most powerful,-yet man can better discern and iudge of the outward sense, make more nobfe use ot it, and wharexcellency of either strength or sense is in the rest, he adds to himself, and makes his own by reducmg it to his service. ^n,nv-.nl nr

It was fittest that his body should be made of a terrene, not ethereal or celestial matter, because he was to live on the earth ^ body capable of sense, by which the soul, being sent into it as a naked table, might gather experience, and by experience knowledge. And howsoe^-er it was mortai, • considered in itself, as compounded of contraiy natm-es the elements, yet by God's conservation it should have been immortal, without sin.

We are made of dust, and dust will claim her own. Why do wo glory in our greatness? When that father stood by the tomb ot ^-'^'^J^ll tears ho exclaimed, Ubi nunc pukhntudo Ccisam? Where is now the

glory of Ca3sar ? Where be his troops of nobles, armies of soldiers, orders of senators, imperial majesty, the fear of nations, honour and terror of the world? Uhi nunc hac omnia ? Quo ahiit magnificentia tua ? Why do we covet ? ' 0 earth, earth, earth, hear the Lord's word,' Jer. xxii. 29. Thrice : other men are earth twice, earth in coming from it, and earth in going to it. The covetous man is earth thrice, for his love of earth transforms his soul into it. A mortal fool, to heap up so much wealth for insensible dust! Why put we confidence in man, whose life is nothing but a little breath ? Isa. ii. 22. Stop but his mouth and nostrils, and he is a dead man, A very shuttle; no sooner in at one side but out at the other, Job vii. 6. Sickness is often without a name, nan publico morbo nomen fatetur. Death is always kno\vn, and known inevitable, in what shape soever it appears, nan medicina contra mortem. Why do we reckon upon fourscore ? Quantu-him est quod riviviiis! Wliy do we fear what we cannot shift ? If we be in Christ, it is the gate of life. It is said, tempiis communis medicus, time can remedy some evils, translating the rod of the righteous to the backs of the wicked. But mors communis medicus indeed. It can cure all diseases of body and soul, that no sore be left in the one, no sin in the other. Nil crus sentit in nervo, cum maims est in ccelo :* the body may sleep quietly in the dust when the soul is in heaven.

2. The honour of it. Albeit the image of God in man consists in wisdom and sanctity; yet there may be a likeness in other respects. Yea, though the body cannot be like a spirit, much less a finite body to an infinite spirit, yet even in the body may be found some prints of the divine majesty. First; Man is said to be made after God's image; man, not the Boul of man only. The soul without the body is not a perfect man. Secondly; God's image was also in Christ's body; for he says, ' He that hath seen me hath seen my Father,' John xiv. 9. Me, he saith not, that hath ' seen my soul;' nor could his soul be seen. Thirdly; Wlien God prohibits the shedding of man's blood, he yields this reason : ' For in the image of God made he man,' Gen. ix. 6. Now, the soul cannot be killed, therefore there must be some similitude in the body. So precious is the life of man, who had this image created; much more of Christians, who have this image renewed. Fourthly; Our body is the example of that world which was in God from all eternity. As he purposed and formed it, so with a summary abridgment in man he expressed it. Fifthly; There is few of our members but be (in a metaphorical sense) attributed to God. By our eyes he signifies his knowledge ; by our ears his regard to praj'ers; by our feet his coming towards us ; by our hands his power. So that these serve not only for the offices of our soul, but be also certain types and resemblances of some perfections in God. Sixthly; The mind in the body is Uke a candle in the lantern, which makes the horn transparent, and diffusive of the light. The soul knows, not the body; yet the soul communicates her laaowledge by the body.

This is the honour of the body, fit to be the mansion of so noble a guest. We may despise this earthly frame, as it is our own; we must admire it, as it is God's ; we should not abuse it, as it belongs to both. It is but a tabernacle for the soul, 1 Cor. vi. 19, it is a temple for the Lord. Let us not so defile it till both the soul and the Lord be weary to dwell in it. We love the cabinet for the jewel's sake, esteem it for that it contains. He is absm'd that will stable his horses where he means to lay his honourable guests. Yet how do many men pollute -this fair house by di-uukenness,

* Tertul.

making it a swinc-sty, by unclcanness a brothel, by workllincss a dunghill, by oppression a lion's den, by voluptuousness a boar's fnuik, by niulice a stove or burning furnace, and by continual sin a ban-icaded jail to imprison the soul! Thus, instead of God's resemblance, it is made the exemplary of Satan, a habitation for bats and owls, a cage of unclean birds. Prostituted harlots, that set up a trade without credit, and (contraiy to all honest professions) break with too much custom, little think how they make that body the devil's pinnace, which God built an ark for himself, a good ship to transport the soul to paradise, till at last they become no longer God's, but the chirurgeon's creatures. Not to speak of those external violences and inward disturbances which many contract to their own bodies, some setting the house on fire by wrathful passions, others untiling it and breaking down the windows by intemperance, even sordid nastiness makes it odious to God. For, howsoever Christ prefers puritatcm cordis puritati cutis, the pm-e heart is best; yet seldom doth a clean soul dwell in a sluttish body. As that of the philosopher is held to be trae, that the outward complexion inclines the inward disposition, so the unhandsomeness of the cover disgraceth the contents of the book, and through the chinks of an unhighted flesh we may read a neglected soul. But as God gave us our bodies for service, so he calls also for them in om- holy sacrifice, Rom. xii. 1.

3. The order. The head, as it is nearest to heaven, so hkest to heaven, both for roimdness of figure, globular, resembling the finnament, which is a perfect circle and circumference, and for situation of divine graces in iL From the head all senses have their original, there they strive to declare their virtues. That which indeed makes a man dwells here, the princely power of reason. The forehead is smooth and clear, like the brow of heaven. The face is full of sweet proportions, the seat of beauty, the throne of majesty, an external figm-e of the mind, the rehsh of all the other parts. Of this beauty colour is the matter, and proportion the form, which ariseth from the general harmony of the whole. The eye is the centre where all these beauties meet, the life of the face's comeliness moves there ; it is the model of all the other gi-aces united. God set two gi'eat lights in heaven, so two living glasses in the midst of om* visage. By these are remote and nnreachable objects represented to the mind ; and because they be tender, and subject to danger, he hath fenced them in with lids and covers, hollow bones and prominent brows. The tongue, that instniment of speech and taste, is but a small nimble piece of flesh, yet how rare and melodious voices are formed by it; notes able to ravish the heart of man! It can discom'se of heaven and earth, things -s-isible and unseen, manifest the thoughts of the mind, persuade the soul with arguments. It is called the gloiy of man, because it best expresseth the glory of God. Those instruments of eating, the mandibles, how are they fortified ? The upper is fixed, the lower hath scope of motion, contrary to those gi-inders in the mill, •where the upper moves above, and the lower lies still. The neck is small and sine%vy, the arms long to extend, the hands active to do, the thighs and legs hko marble pillars to support, the feet to transport and move the body according to the will of the mind. Every part is so disposed, with power, proportion, and conveniency, that we cannot think a reason how it should be otherwise, or give them any fitter place.

Now, as what God hath joined together, let no man put asunder; so what he hath ordered in wisdom, let not us disorder in folly. If one be bom with a defective, superfluous, or misplaced limb, we call him a monster, a prodig}', yet is he so besides his will, even of God's making. But we have

monsters of their own making. Man's face hath an outward reference to heaven. Other creatures gi-ovel down to the earth, all then- senses be intent upon it. Man is reared upwards, as prompt to look upon heaven, as his foot hath no power to tread beside earth. What monsters are they that deject their countenances, abase their bodies, deface themselves, and, being men, make themselves beasts ? Such are the covetous ; the eyes of the brute are not more pronely fixed on the earth. Omnia suhjccisti, ' God hath put all things under his feet,' Ps. viii. 6. The worldling crosseth this ordinance, subjecting himself to all things. How vile and degenerate is it, subjicl suhjecto, for man to put his heart under that which God hath put his feet ? Yet, if then* bodies were answerable to their affections, incederent quadnipcdes, they would go on all four. Other creatures have but four muscles to turn their eyes round about; man hath a fifth to pull his eyes up to heavenward, as his proper inheritance and home. Lest om' eyes should be too much bent on what they should not, the}^ have peculiar nerves to attract them toward the seat of their rest, to shew that we can never truly be happy till we come to enjoy that place whither our eyes may invite our hearts, and our hearts should direct om- eyes.

Let it be our care to keep ourselves as God hath made us. As our head is nearest to heaven, so let the thoughts of our head be most fixed on heaven. As our feet are lowest, so let the things under our feet be held vilest. The joints of om- knees have a facihty in bowing, let them do daily homage to their Maker. Our hands are nimble instruments, let them act the duties of our calling ; an idle hand is as improper as a heavy air. Let our foreheads be smooth and calm like heaven, without the fi'owus and furrows of wrath. Our faces are the seat of majesty, let us not make them the snares of iniquity. Om* eyes are the body's light, let them not purvey for the soul's darkness. Our tongue is the instrament of music and melody ; it is never in tune, but when it sings the praises of God. The God of order requires that every part keep the order of God. Lord, thou hast made om- bodies in harmony, preserve them in sanctity, and crown them with immortal glory.

4, The wonder. There is not a member wherein we find not cause of wonder. Our body was so far beyond our own skill in the making, that it poseth and astonisheth us in the considering. So many arteries, sinews, veins, none of them idle, or without manifest defect to be missed ; a wonder ! The necessary dependence and disposition of those inward parts, for all the offices of life, like the wheels of a most cm-ious clock, that the disorder of one puts all out of frame ; a wonder ! The liver is the fountain of blood ; the heart of vital, the brain of animal, spirits : now that from the same nourishment, the Uver should derive blood, and the heart spirits ; and that the brain, which is a cause of feeling, should have in itself no feeling ; another wonder ! That this body should be kept alive by dead things, the flesh of slain beasts ; a wonder ! for how should that which is dead give life, or maintain it ? That since the fall, man eats and drinks in such a quantity : this in common reason should rather choke than nom'ish him. Yet thus hath God made his stomach a limbeck, to digest all meats that be wholesome for his nourishment; a wonder ! There is no such strength in the body, whereby it should hold together, no more than a piece of earth set upright; yet, being animated with a soul, it can move and work, without which the sinews could not confirm the flesh to the bones ; a wonder ! Linumerable are these marvels, if the naturalist would consider them ; but I am not physician enough to reckon them. Only thus much I say, ' I am

fearfully and wonderfullj made,' Ps. cxxxix. 14 ; wonderfully in the conception, more wonderfully in the completion, most wondei-fully in the inspiration. God made us, and wo knew it not; brought us into the world, and we knew it not; preserved us in the cradle, and we knew it not; now we are come to maturity, and do know it; let us serve him, and glorify his name for ever.

Conchmon. —Man being made in so goodly a proportion, and so far excelling all other creatures, how comes it to pass that ho is so mortal and momentary, a flower so quickly vanishing ? This hath been an old philosophical complaint, that nature to man was a stepdame, allowing him least time that could make best use of his time. Ars longa, vita brevis: the stag, the raven, treble the age of man. He only can understand, and ho is kept fi-om impi'oving it, by the shortness of his time. Let mo answer this by an apologue. "When Jupiter had made the world, and all the beasts in it, they no sooner opened their eyes, and beheld this glorious frame, but they were jocund and meny. But yet they knew not their emplojonent, and therein desire to be satisfied. The ape went fii'st to know his office. It was answered, that he was to serve man; to skip and play, and make him sport, in sundry tricks and imitations ; to be bound to a chain, and do as man would have him. This relished somewhat harsh, but there was no remedy. He demands how long he must endure this; it was told him, thirty years. Ho thought that too tedious, and begged a shorter time; Jupiter was contented, and bated him ten. Then came the ass, to know the fortune of his condition; which was also to serve man, in a laborious life, canyiug bui'dens, bearing stripes, and not seldom wanting his sustenance ; and the term of this service was also thii'ty years. Discontented with this long slavery, he desires Jupiter to take oft" some of his time, and to bestow it on those that desired it. This was granted, and he was likewise eased of ten years. Then comes the dog; and his ofiico was to run a-hunting, to kill hares, but not to eat a bit of them ; when he was weary, to be glad of scraps ; to wait in the dark, and keep the house ; and this for thirty years. But petitioning for the like abatement, it was gi-antcd, and ten years cut oft". Last comes the ox, to know what he should do ; which was also to serve man, in drawing the yoke and other cai'riages for his use, with the galling pricks of many a goad, to rouse his dulness. He also craves abridgment of his thirty years, and lo ! twenty was abated to him; provided that, when he had labom-ed to do man service ten years with his Uving body, he should then be killed to feed him with his dead flesh.

Now comes man; and finding himself of so immortal and discursive a soul, usufi'uctuary lord of all the world, a potent prince in so fair a dominion, he demands his office, which was to serve his Maker in a cheerful obedience. He hkes it well, but how long was he to five ? Jupiter answers, that he had detennined to every one thirty years. Man thought this too short a time for so pleasant a dwelling, therefore begs that the years which were taken from the other might be added to his. It was granted, but with this condition, that, ha\ang first lived his own tluiiy years, he should enjoy the rest in their order. First, the life of the ape, full of fancies and wanton imitations ; then the life of the ass, moiling and toiling, carrying and recarrying, labouring for the riches of this world, but withal, eating httle pai-t of his own gains ; so till fifty. From that to sixty, the hfe of the dog, snarling at one, barldng at another, hunting about for preys, and scarce eating a morsel of them, but, in a foolish covetousness, leaving them all for others. The remainder, like the ox ; lazy, unwieldy, full of pains and

VOL. in. K

aches, till at last death comes to take him out of the pasture. This fable teacheth us, that long life, if it be not sanctified from these bestial qualities, is an unhappiness, rather than a favour; and that man need not grumble at the shortness of his time, seeing other creatures hve but for a time, and then perish; whereas after this short life of misery, God hath provided for us an eternal life of glory.

The soul of man.—The body hath had its due honour, whereof every part, for place, use, and form, doth exceed wonder. Yet doth not this human body more excel other visible creatures, than the soul doth excel that. The heavens are purer than the earth ; the body is of the earth, the soul is from above the heavens. The body is to the soul as a barren turf to a mine of gold, as a mud-wall about a delicate garden, as a wooden box wherein the jeweller carries his precious gems, as a coarse case to a fair and rich instrument, as a rotten hedge to a paradise, as Pharaoh's prison to a Joseph, or as a mask to a beautiful face. It is so excellent a thing, that itself considers it cannot sufficiently conceive its own excellency. For method, I desu'e to touch upon these six circumstances : What it is, From whence it comes. When it begins, How long it continues, What it is like, and Wliat it is able to do.

1. What it-is; no accidentary quality, but a spiritual and invisible essence, subsisting by itself. This appears, because the soul hath often a disposition adverse to the body's; she would pray, when the other would sleep ; and is often most comforted, when the body is most distressed; as a bird sings most merrily when her cage is opened. And, because it hath a being when it is removed from the body; as the musician lives though his lute be broken. For the specific difference, beasts are said to have souls, but they be not substances, but peculiar qualities, arising from the temperature of the body, and vanishing with it; the soul of the beast is said to be ' in the blood,' Gen. ix. 4. Angels are spirits, but cannot be united with bodies, so as to make one entire person. Man's soul is his form, the first mover of the body, and the principal thing that makes man to be man. There be spirits in man, but this is not the soul. Some think that man consists of three parts, because Paul mentions ' soul, spu-it, and body,' 1 Thess. v. 23. But there by spirit is signified the mind, by soul, the will and affections ; these are not two things, but two faculties, for the soul is but one. So it is called the ' spirit of our mind,' Ephes. iv. 23, which is the more noble and purer part of the soul. Indeed, soul hath divers acceptations in the Scriptm-e. First, For the whole man; ' The soul that sinneth, shall die,' Ezek. xviii. 20 ; the soul, totus homo, the whole man. ' Tribulation upon eveiy soul that doth evil,' Rom. ii. 9; upon every man. Secondly, For that immortal part of man; fear not man, for he cannot 'kill the soul,' Matt. x. 28; the better pai-t cannot be killed. Thirdly. For the affections and will, which is the inferior part of the soul. Thou shalt love the Lord ' with all thy soul,' Matt. xxii. 37 ; love is an act of the affective part. Fourthly, For the life ; deponit animam, that is vitam, ' he giveth his life.' The life of the beast is the soul of the beast,' Gen. ix. 4 ; the blood being the seat of hfe, and chariot of the vital spirits. When we read in philosophers and physicians, of a spirit in man, which working in the heart is called vitalis, the lively faculty; in the liver, naturalis, the natural faculty; in the head, animalis, the animal faculty; we must not think this to be the reasonable soul, but rather the chair wherein she sits, and the organ whereby she works; without whose service, the soul cannot so perfectly exercise her powers a-nd acts in the body. In

ccstacics, if the spirit Lo comforted, the soul is comforted ; if the spiiit be Buiibcated, the soul and body are resolved.

2. From whence it comes ; not by traduction from our parents. A body may be engendered of bodies, because something is imparted and conferred from them; but a soul cannot bring forth a soul, because nothing can separate a thing that is thin and immaterial. That man's soul is not traduced, consider these reasons. First, ' God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and he became a living soul,' Gen. ii. 7. His body lay senseless on the gi'ound, till a soul was breathed into it bj' its Maker. Secondly, God made the woman, Adam named her. ' This is bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh,' Gen. ii. 23; not soul of my soul; he knew she had no part nor portion of his soul, Thirdhj, If a soul could beget a soul, then an angel might beget an angel. Fourthh/, The first man Adam was made 'a li^•iug soul,' living, not quickening. Fifthhj, They are called the ' fathers of om* bodies,' Heb. xii. 8, not of our souls; we have another ' Father of our spirits,' most plainly ; it is God that ' formeth the spirit of man within him,' Zech. xii. 1. There is some diflerence in the making of our bodies ; at first by the immediate creation of God, now by the combination of man and woman ; but there is still the same rule of creating the soul; it is jmrticida dlvince aura:, breathed into the flesh by himself. In-J'midendo creatur, et creando infunditur; it is infused in the making, and made in the infusing.

Nor yet may we think, that the beginning of the soul is of the essence of God, which seemed to be the error of Lactantius. For as breath is no part of his substance that doth breathe it, so the soul is no part of God's essence that doth give it. If it were part of the divine essence, it were immutable, without beginning, from all eternity ; yea every soul were God. It doth neither arise from the substance of om* parents, nor from the essence of God ; but is immediately formed and inspired by the Maker of all, and infused into the body. The body was made of the earth, common to his fellows, and there lay as senseless as the earth, from which it was taken, and by which it was supported. It was the life of breath, that gave it the breath of life ; no air, no earth, no water, no element was here used, to contribute to this work ; we are beholden to nothing but God for om- soul. Our flesh is from flesh, our spirit is from the God of spirits. Now, he that breathed upon the body, and gave it a li\ing spirit, breathe again upon us aU, and give us his Holy Spirit I

3. When it takes beginning. Etsi cum corpore von definit, saltern aim corpore incipit; though it do not end with the body, yet it begins with the body. In the making of the first man, God first instrumentahsed a perfect body, and then infused a lively soul. Now the body is made by ordinary generation in the womb, and the soul is inspired into it, before it see the light, or di-aw breath. ' The children struggled in Rebecca's womb,' Gen. XXV. 22 ; which proves not only infantum animas, scd et purjnas ;* they seem not only to have souls, but even afl'ections. ' The babe leaped in Elizabeth's womb for joy,' Luke i. 14 ; hi motus fjaudia vestra, says Tertulhan to pregnant mothers, that you may be assured your unborn infants have souls. This string I the rather touch, because some natmians have disputed against it; and would have the life of such children to be either merely vegetative, such as in plants and roots ; or sensitive and motional, such as in beasts ; both which die with the subjects wherein they are; and not rational, which is the soul. But both the canon law condemns

• TertuL

her for a homicide, qua coy^ceptxmi in utero deleverit, that destroys the fruit of her own womb ; and if abortion, after life, be caused, murder is committed ; God's law, man's law, and their own conscience condemns it; therefore the soul is inspired before the birth. Yea so precise were the Sorbonnists, and so ascribing to the outward element, that if the hand of an infant, which could not be bom, appeared, they would have it baptized ; alleging that baptism is for the soul, not for the body; and the soul is tota in qualibet parte, whole in every part. But this truth we afl&rm, that so soon as the body is formed in the womb, the soul is inspired by the Lord, and having once a beginning, it shall never have an ending; which is the next circumstance considerable.

4. How long it continues. The soul is made of an everlasting nature ; it hath a beginning to live, it shall have no time to die. There is indeed a death of the soul; not that it ceaseth to be, but when it ceaseth to be righteous; it doth still subsist in nature, but not in the comfort and peace of God. Our soul sleeps not in a living body, therefore shall not sleep in a dead body. The souls of reprobates have their deportation, as the rich man's soul was fetched from him, Luke xii. 20 ; and their detrusion, being ' cast into hell,' Luke xvi. 23. But they that die in the Lord, do instantly go to the Lord, as the soul of Lazarus was in Abraham's bosom. So Christ assured the penitent malefactor, ' This day thou shalt be with me in paradise,' Luke sxiii. 43. Corpus resolvitur, anima absolvitiir; quod re-solvitur in terram suani, nihil sentit; qucB absolvitur, in (Eternum gaudet. The body is dissolved, and feels no pain ; the soul is absolved, and rejoiceth in bliss. The departed saints are dead in their worst part only, Uving in their best, vivit, qua voluit vivere, parte magis. Death to such a soul is not exitus, but transitus —its transmigration, not abolition. ' God is the God of the living,' Matt. xxii. 32. Therefore Abraham is ahve, Jacob is ahve. Now their bodies be dead, therefore their souls live. ' We shall go to them, they shalt not retm-n to us,' 2 Sam. xii. 23. Men's souls have a beginning without an end. The soul and body part for a time, but they shall meet again to receive an irrevocable doom. They do not obambu-late and wander up and down, but remain in certain places and receptacles of happiness or mihappiness, either in the hands of God, or in the devil's prison. The soul is the principal in doing well or ill, therefore she is first in receiving her reward of either pain or peace.

5. To what she is like. The superscription the soul bears is the image of God; as it came from him, so it is most like unto him. God is immortal, so is the soul; God is immaterial, so is the soul; God is an understanding spirit, so he hath made the soul, and withal to will freely; God is invisible, so is the soul; God is spiritual and simple, so the soul hath nothing mixed or concrete, nothing moist, nothing airy or fiery. The soul quickeneth the hodij, as the Lord quickeneth the soul and all things. The soul was perfectly created, and is now imperfectly regenerated to be wise, holy, loving ; and therein resembles the wisdom, sanctity, and love of God. As God is the centre of every circumference, filling all places, so the soul is whole in the whole, and wholly in every part, neither increasing nor decreasing with the body. Lastly, the soul is an image of the Trinity, which is to be worshipped in unity; not in unity of the persons, nor trinity of the Godhead ; but in unity of the Godhead, and trinity of the persons. In the Deity, there is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; and these three are one God: so in the soul, there is the understanding, the will, and memory,

* Ambr.

three distinct foeulties ; j'et these three are hut one souh This is the principal part of man, a princely similitude of the infinite God. Object. Man is the image of God ; but it is lawful to make the image of the image of God, therefore to make the imago of God. Ans. Man is made after God's image in his soul, not in his body : that therefore wherein man is like God, is invisible, and caimot be imaged. No man can make a picture of the soul.

G. What the soul is able to do. It is wonderfully capable and active; can pass by her nimble thoughts from earth to heaven in a moment; can be all things, can apprehend all things, can know that which is, and conceive of that which never was, never shall be. Man's soul is comprehensive of universality, and hath virtuiinn ad infinita; nature hath set no limits to the thoiights of the soul. It can remember things past, foresee things to come, apprehend things present, which are not elementary but divine faculties, and can come from none but God himself. Therefore it hath several names, according to its several powers. Dum vivijicat, aiiima: dum vult, animus: dum scit, mens; dum recolU, memoria: dum indicat, ratio: dum spirat, spiritius: dum sentit, sensus.-^- Quickening, it is the soul; willing and knowing, the mind; recollecting, the memoiy; judging and discoursing, reason; breathing, the spirit; and as sensitive, the sense. Here is not a dillcrence of substances to the diflerence of names ; for all these are but one soul. As the earth can have no heat nor nourishment but fi'om the heaven, so the body can have no life, sense, nor motion but from the soul: more glorious in these powerful faculties than the heavens are with the sun and stars. But why doth it not work so powerfully at its first infusion ? Answer. Not that (according to some philosophers) it is more or less in substance. And for diminishing of the qualities, whereby they would prove the mortality of it, it is as when we have found a mass of gold, and the same being fined becomes less; by diminution of the quaUty, we should deny the substance. But thus we answer, it is straitened by the imbecility of the organ; we are not born men ; there is difference between the creation of Adam and the generation of all his childi-en. First the body increaseth in the womb by the life of the parent, until the infusion of the soul; being animated, it grows by the soul's vii'tue, and is not at an instant instrumentalised of perfect stature. Adam, at the fii'st infusion of his soul, was able to discourse. We cannot do so. Physicians give the reason of a natural moistness, that di'owns and clouds the understanding part, and as that is dried up, so reason appears; but divines say more certainly this disability comes by sin. But leaving these things to the learned, come we to some more useful conclusions, applying all to ourselves.

1. Seeing the soul is so far more excellent than the body, let it be more carefully tendered. Non anima pro corpore, sed corpus pro anima: nee corpus in anima, sed anima in corpore sita est.\ The soul was not made for the body, as the lute is not made for the case, but the body for the soul, as a box for the jewel. Man was made last, because he was to be the best; the soul of man was inspired last, because that was to be yet more noble. If the body have this honour to be the soul's companion here, yet, withal, it is her drudge : Instrumentum est, sed et impedimentum est ; both the organ and the clog of the divine part. For service it is a labourer, for life a companion ; an instrument for action, a bar to contemplation. Exteniiil works be eftected by it; but it hinders the internal, which are more worthy and necessary. The imprisoned bird, when she sees no remedy, sings in * Aug. de Spir. et Anim. cap. 24. t Clirys. de Recup. laps.

her cage ; but she flies most and highest when she is at liberty. Set the soul once at freedom, she will then most cheerfully sing the praises of her Maker. Yet the common coui-se is to fortify this prison, and to boast in corporal abilities. But qui gloriatur in viribus corjwris, gloriatur in vinbiis careens. I do not approve the sullenness of that soul which wrongs the body: but I worse like to have the body wi'ong the soul, to have Hagar tricked up in Sarah's garments, and set at upper end of the table. If the painted popinjay, that so dotes on her own beauty, had an eye to see how her soul is used, she would think her practice more ill-favoured and unhandsome, than perfuming a putrefied coffin, or putting mud into a glass of crystal. For shame, let us put the soul foremost again, and not set heaven lowest, and earth uppermost.

2. Seeing the soul comes from God, and is made to return unto him, let us cheerfully surrender it when he calleth for it. Let them rise up continually to him, and fix themselves in their thoughts upon him who alone created them in their infusion, aud infused them in theii- creation. Let them long to come back to the fountain of their being and the author of their being glorious. So willing were Simeon, Luke ii. 29, and Paul, Phil. i. 23, to have those bonds loosed that kept them from the glory of their Maker. So Stephen disposeth his soul, ' Lord, Jesus receive it.' Thou hast created it, redeemed it, justified it, sanctified it, and in thy good time wilt glorify it; Lord take it into thine own custody; seeing I am to leave my body, do thou receive my spirit. ' And when he had thus spoken, he fell asleep,' Acts vii. 59. When he had uttered such excellent words, and •with such a resolute spirit, and m such a reverent manner, giving unto Ood the life of his soul, and forgiving men the death of his body, he sweetly fell asleep. Christus pro nobis hominem induit, Stephaims pro Christo hominem exidt.-' Christ became man for Stephen, and Stephen became no man for Christ; as cheerfully putting ofi" his flesh as the sleepy man puts off his garments. ' Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit, Ps. xxxi. 5; 1 Pet. iv. 19. 0 how willingly doth that man send up his soul, that believes the God who inspired it will graciously receive it.

3. Seeing the soul is immortal, and cannot be extinguished, let us neglect the body in comparison of it. Most men are all for the body, nothing for the soul. Yet ' what shall a man gain, by winning the world, and losing his soul ?' Matt. xvi. 26. There be three things in that comparative bai'gain : terminus primus, gain of the world ; terminus secundus, loss of the soul; aqui-lihium, which is weightier ? Yet how many lose the jewel to keep the box, spill the wine to preserve the vessel, make more of the shell than the kernel. Now few men's soids stand them in so much as any one part of their bodies. The coverings of their heads, their very shoes, cost them more in a year than their souls. We will not trust an unskilful coachman, a rude waterman, with our bodies; any minister will serve for our souls. Do we call them from their injustice, "from sacrilege, from uncharitableness ? Alas! men will have their wills, whatsoever become of theii- souls. Every soul in itself is of greater price than the whole world; thy soul to thyself should be of greater account than a million of worlds. Seek goodness to thy soul, other goods will come in without seeking. When Solomon begged wisdom, riches and honour came unasked for. Monica prayed that her son Augustine might turn catholic Christian; God made him a most illuminate doctor. Sisera asks water; Jael gives him milk. Gehazi begs one talent; Naaman constrains him to take two, 2 Kings v. 23. Save thy

* Greg. Nyss.

Boul, and save all; lose that, and lose all. Howsoever it go witli thy goods or good name, bo sure to look well unto thy soul, that whether thou die for the Lord, or in the Lord, thou mayest with comfort resijTn it to the Lord.

But alas ! our souls are kept like slaves, and our bodies like gentlemen. Wo desire a good servant, a good child, a good field, a good fi'ieud; we would have our apparel good, our meat good, our bed good, our very beast good, all things good about us, only we do not care though our souls be bad within us. How comes it to pass, that thou hast deserved so ill of thy self, Ut inter bona tua omnia non vis esse malum ni^i teipsum.'^- Thy body hungers, thou wilt give it food ; thirsts, and thou drinkest; is wcaiy, and thou goest to rest. Thy soul may starve, without seeking spiritual manna ; it may cry out Sitio, and not be brought to the living waters; wearied with lusts and the troubles of conscience, and yet thou seckest no peace. If we be fallen into the waters, how do we catch to save the body ? how do we run from an house on fire ? how warily shun an infected place—all to preserve a brittle, miserable, mortal body. Yet neither the present floods of sin, overwhelming the poor soul, nor the future fire of hell, never to be quenched, nor the plague of bad society, can make us fear the eternal loss of our souls, as if that which God had made only excellent, we thought it only to be nothing worth. In sickness, we crv. My head, my head, my sides, my heart; but My spirit, or My soul, is seldom our complaint, as if it were so easy to save that, upon which depends the saving of all the rest.

4. Seeing the soul is so capable, so comprehensive, let us seek for something that may fill it. Nothing in the world, not the world itself, can do this. Otherwise, why did not so many kingdoms content that ambitious monarch ? why do not whole lordships of lands, heaps of coin, treasures of jewels, satisfy their possessors ? But that still there is as much desire, as there is abundance; and they so want many things, as if they had nothing. This covetousuess is not the error of the body; alas, that receives but little. Perhaps it longs for some delicate food, yet is it soon satisfied, and begins after repletion to loathe it. It takes no pleasure to be laden with store of gold; many jewels, and glorious apparel, are but a burden to it; the body is not desirous of honour, it is the soul that covets all these things, and with all these things is as little satisfied as without thfim. There is only one thing that can fiU the soul, and that is God; as nothing can limit it, but that is everywhere, so nothing can satisfy it, but that is infinite : an infinite nature can fill an infinite desire. 0 may he dwell in them, that hath appointed them to dwell in clay, and fill our souls, as he hath made them to fill our bodies! Lord, thou hast created them of an heavenly nature, do thou sublime them from earthly afiections. Sanctify them with grace and holiness, replenish them with peace and happiness. Let them draw om- bodies upward, and not om* bodies draw them downwards.

3. TJie divine providence. —This is that most free and powerful action of God, whereby he disposeth all things; that universal art, whereby all the ufiairs of the world are ruled. Some things are by choice, some by chance, some by election within us, some by disposition without us, some by opposition against us, some by co-operation by us, some by infliction upon us : God sits in his throne, orders all. ' He worketh all things according to the counsel of his own will,' Eph. i. 11. First there is a counsel, as a faciamus; then a purpose, as a faciamus Jiominem; then a will, resolving to do according to that purpose ; then an effect succeeding it, working * Aug. de Temp. Ser. 145.

according to that will, and an tiniversal extent, ' all things.' So God respects one thing, that he regards all things; so he minds all things, as if they were one thing.

The carpenter or mason, having built the house, are paid for their work, and so leave it to another to inhabit. The shipwright builds the vessel; the merchant owns it, the pilot guides it, the sea bears it, the wind drives it, the rocks split it, and the shipwi'ight cannot help it. But he that made the world looks to it, as he gave it being, so he keeps it in being. The gardener hath inclosed a piece of ground, planted it, fenced it, finished it, is still dressing it, yet weeds will grow, worms will spill the roots, and while he sleeps, thieves may break in and spoil it. But God so watcheth over his plantation, that no power can alter the least piece of it without his will. The workman makes a curious watch, every pin and wheel is well placed, the spring and all in perfect tune, himself keeps it, and it goes well, yet will it gather foulness, and time will wear it out. But God is so presential to every piece of his fabric, that he keeps it from rust, nor can time alter it, if eternity will preserve it.

For method, fu-st let us hear what error hath spoken against this providence ; then what reason can allege for it; and lastly, the truth of it, and wherein this providence consists, in which consists all things.

The philosophers, as they had sundry sects, so divers opinions concerning the divine providence. Some held that the gods did, nee curare sua, nee aliena, regard nothing; wherein they are like our atheists, but some of them not altogether so bad; for ask Epicurus and Pliny how the world is governed, they will tell you, Cailestia causis naturalibus, inferiora vi steUarum per infiuentias: but above all these they acknowledged a Deity. So the Stoics held, that God did govern heavenly things by himself, sublunary-things by the disposition of starry influences.

Objection 1. God is at ease and quiet in heaven ; what need he trouble himself with earthly matters ? What is it to him, whither thou goest, or what thou speakest, or how thou workest ? Ea cura quietos solUcitat f Ans. This is a poor reasonless conceit of God ; as if rest itself could be weary, or peace itself be disturbed; whereas the heavens are not weary of moving, nor the mind of thinking. It is a pleasm'e even to a good man, not a pain, to see all things in his family well ordered. That which changeth place, or is capable of motion, may admit of laboui-. God is infinite and impatible, seeth all things without eyes, does all things without hands. Our wars cannot disturb him. The thunder of the air may trouble the earth, the vapours of earth trouble the air, the quarrels of two nations disquiet a neighbouring third ; but nothing can molest God. Such fools are they that think God can be weary with business ; but when men in their pride could not make themselves hke God, in theu* folly they would make God hke themselves.

Objection 2. But this is injurious, to bring down the majesty of God to the husbanding of bees and ants, and such inferior businesses. Kings do not stoop to take up every brabble. * How doth God know ? can he judge through the dark cloud ? He walks in the circuit of heaven,' Job xxii. 13 ; and there is a vast interposition betwixt that place and earth. They thought it not fit to give him a descent beneath the circle of the moon ; and that his knowledge would become vile, if it were abased to take notice of trivial objects and occurrents. Ans. This doth not disparage his wisdom, but honours it. How many a man hath been ambitious to count the stars, and to give them names, whereby to know them again '? God only ' knows

their number, and calls them all by their names.' Archimedes propounded it as a matter of wondrous reputation to himself, if he could have made a just numeration of the sand, which ho foolishly attempted. Nan vilitatein argiiit, sed perfectionem. Is the glass vile, because it presents deformities ? or the sun defiled, because his beams Ml on muddy places ? If God could be afflicted or infected with our corruption, it might bo some prejudice to him. But he can turn that to his honour, which man doth to his dishonour. * He humbleth himself to behold things done in heaven, and on the earth,' Ps. cxiii. 6. The one is no more humbling to him than the other. We see that which lies at our foot, as well as that which stands at our elbow.

Ohjection 3. They allege Scripture against it. 'He that increaseth knowledge, incrcaseth son-ow,' Eccles. i. 18. Ans.: Solomon speaks there of a human knowledge, which is always attained with labour, often retained with gi'ief. Ivnowledge in man is varied. We linow some things as past, some as present, others as to come ; God sees all uno intuitu. Man is anxious about the event; God sees the end and beginning at one instant. But Num cura Deo de bobus ? * Hath God care of oxen ?' 1 Cor. ix. 9. Therefore he regards not inferior things. Ans.: The apostle doth not exempt oxen from God's care, but shews that the law w\as not made for oxen's sake, but for ours. ' Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox treading out the corn,' Deut. xxv. 4. Yea, this proves directly that God hath care of oxen, for whose sustenance he so provided ; but much more care of his ministers, unto whom in that law he hath chiefest respect. Arctiore providentia com-plectitur liominem, quam bovem. He ' feeds the young ravens ;' a creature less worthy than oxen, because not so serviceable to man. He that would have an ox live by his labom-ing, would have a minister live by his preaching. Deo est cum de bobits vestris, vobis non est cura de predicatoribus suis. God hath care of your beasts, you take no care of his ministers.

Objection 4. Many things come to pass by chance, but chance and providence cannot stand together. Ans.: In respect of God's prescience nothing happens contingenter, by chance ; because he foreknoweth all things, and ordereth them by a certain, deliberate, and eternal coimsel. But in regard of us, who know not the causes, nor are of God's privy council, when things come which we do not expect, they are said to come by chance, Luke x. 31. ' Time and chance happeneth to all,' Eccles. ix. 11. Videntur nobis fortuita, qu(E apud Deum consulta. God made fortune his slave, let not us make fortune ovu* God.

Objection. 5. Providence and disorder cannot stand together ; but in the world there is nothing but disorder and confusion ; seditions, subversions, rebellions, contentions. In such hurly-bm-hes, what order, what providence ? Ans.: The gi-eater ; as to rule a headstrong horse is more than to ride a tame one. Indeed, this world is the deril's walk, and he is a lord of misrale ; he always comes in with a breach, and goes out with a stench. As it is God that keeps us, so that not a hair of our head doth perish ; so Satan watches that not a hair might escape. He loves to trouble the waters, to vex the righteous, to provoke the indiflerent, to enrage the lewd, to turn all upside down. These things are, by the providence of God, not eifective, but permissive ; and even in this mutinous irregularity, there is an order, though we see it not, disposing all these evils, to the conversion of the elect, to the confusion of the wicked, and the glory of his own name in both.

Ohjection 6. But the means are visible by which all things be wrought

and presei-ved, as by their causes : what providence appears ? Ans. : First, God ordained the means as well as the end. He that determined the death of Christ, determined also the instruments. Secondly, The means is sometimes evil, in matter or form, as that was; yet he makes good the work, and carves an excellent piece with the worst tool. Thirdly, He is not tied to means, but can work with or without, besides or against nature. Fourthly, All media have their efficacy from him ; nor could the sun heat, nor bread nourish, but by the blessing of his providence.

Objection 7. But the innocent suffer most injuries, and the world runs merrily with men of the worst conscience. What providence is in this ? Bona malis, and mala bonis ? By rule of order and equity, the godly should flourish and the wicked perish. Ans.: Many a good man hath been troubled with this temptation, but was never sent away without his resolution. Read Ps. Ixxiii. 12, 13, 17. Who seeth not that prosperity increaseth iniquity ? and where is more want, there is less wantonness. The church, like the moon, gives ever the clearest light, when the sun seems to be in most opposition to it. Drones gather honey only from the hive ; a true believer will gather it even from thistles. We prescribe not a physician, by what medicine he shall help our body; and shall we set down our heavenly Physician a course, how he shall deal in the cm'e of our souls ? To think we need no pills, no cauteries, is to think we are not the sons of Adam, Had we rather stay in Egypt, than bypassing the penurious deserts of Arabia, to come to our Canaan ? It was a great prince that, being in health, pleasantly asked his physician, which was the way to heaven ; he gravely answered, That your highness thought upon when you were last sick.

It is the vulgar opinion of a rich man, how much is he bound to God ? whereas a poor abject creature doth often owe more to the divine goodness, to whose palate it hath embittered the world, that he may better relish the kingdom of heaven, and have it. Many a momentary tenant of this sophisticate happiness below, besides the miserable condition of his conscience, can scarce give away his money, but he must bequeath the devil to boot; and his lands and houses have so sore incumbrances annexed to them, as hell-torments.

The pontificians would have temporal felicity to be one special note of the true church against us ; but so the Jews' arguments were good against Jeremiah. * While we did burn incense to the queen of heaven, we had plenty of victuals, were well, and saw no evil,' Jer. xli. 17, 18. Since we left off" that worship, ' we are consumed with famine.' Thus God's plenty must prove God's piety, and cheapness goodness ; and the church must derive its mark from the market. But we answer. Fijst; When all things were so cheap in the commonwealth, the pope made all things dear in the church ; secular benefits were of an easier price ia the market, than spiritual preferments and benefices were in the temple. Secondly; Who was the author of this prosperity ? the queen of heaven, or the king of heaven ? Did the mother, whom they worshipped, or the Son, whom we worship, cause this plenty ? Thirdly; Was this kingdom so rich, that the pope termed it a well never drawn dry ? How comes it to pass that he diied it, and left it so poor, that it had not water to quench his thirst, or to pay another tax? Fourthly; If this be a true mark, why is not ours allowed for a true church, which these threescore years hath enjoyed so much peace, that they fret their heartstrings, and envy is ready to burst her bowels at it ? Neither hath it at any time been disturbed, but through their treacherous attempts. But we obtrude not to them the prosperity of our

state, but the purity of our doctrine, and honesty of our practice. Christ did not confute the devil by a miracle, but by an oracle. Matt. iv. 4. We may sufler injury, and be never the worse ; they may enjoy plenty, and be never the better. Graces multiply by afflictions, as the saints did by persecutions. * The more they were afflicted, the more they multiplied,' Exod. i. 12. These terrors may aifront us ; they shall not affright us. Uiu/untur anices, a quo inferuntur.'- Crosses be rough and smarting; but wc look to the unction of comfort, that makes them portable and easy. In all conditions we bless his providence, who, according to his own wisdom, not ours, disposeth things ; which, if they be harsh to a state that must sufler, are good for an estate that shall be blessed for ever.

These be the objections against it. Now consider we some reasons for it, which we may derive fi'om Scriptm'e, experience, conscience, consequence, conference, and sense.

1. The Scripture is copious and punctual in this magnifying of the divine pi'o^idence; ascribing to it the beginnings, proceedings, and events of all particular actions, whether casual in themselves, or rational in us. * The lot is cast into the lap,' Prov. xvi. 33 ; ' the horse is prepared for the battle,' ver. 21, 31. God disposeth both the lotteiy and the victory. * Man's goings are of the Lord,' ver. 20, 24. The die hath no sense, the beast no reason; man hath both sense and reason ; yet all their motions are disposed of God. That he is a God ' on the hills,' as well as ' in the valleys,' the king of Aram proved to his cost, 1 Kings xx. That it extends to the feeding of widows with multiplied oil, and is a fatherhood to the orphan, I need not urge, no man denies, Ps. xxix. 9. Yea, even to the ' calving of hinds,' Ps. cxlvii. 9, to the ' feeding of lions and young ravens.' They write of the raven, that, finding her young to be of a whitish colour, imlike herself, she leaves them, as if they were none of hers. Lo, then doth God's providence sustain them ! ' 'Who pro\'idcs for the raven his food, when his young ones cry unto God ?' Read Job xxxix. ' The verj' hairs of your head are nvun-bered,' Matt. x. 30. Quid vilius cadit de homine? Quid moncro concipi minus potest? But Sapientia ejus non est nwnerus, Ps. cxlvii. 5. To lots, so was Canaan divided, albeit foimerly in his decree disposed, Num. xxvi. 54. God had secretly destined Saul to the kingdom ; Samuel knew this. Yet, as if Israel would not be otherwise satisfied, the lots must decide this choice. God is so constant to his own purposes, that the man, v/hom he had determined, and Samuel anointed, the lot shall find out. There is no chance to the Almighty ; even casual things are no less necessary in their first cause, than the natural. Saul may hide himself among the stuff, but he knew where the lots would light before they were cast. Haman would cast lots, Est. iii. 7 ; but did the Almighty sleep at his bloody design ? No ; he that keeps a calendar of all times and things, so inverted his intendments, that the day became dismal to the plotter of mischief; the lot of death fell upon Haman.

2. By experience. The order which appears in the whole course of nature proves it. In a famUy there is order; some rule, some obey. A city consists of many well-governed families, where the gi-ave senators guide the r(jst. A kingdom consists of many cities and towns, where one sits in the throne, and the rest do him reverence. The world consists of many kingdoms, whereof God himself is the omnipotent monarch, so ruhng the good, and oven-uling the bad, that all shall tend to his glory. Herbs and grass are for cattle, cattle serve men; the heavens above, for them that arc beneath;

* Bern,

and all the creatures, above or beneath, serve for God: all declare his providence.

3. Man's own conscience binds him to confess this truth. Suppose he hath done a murder, so closely that no eye saw him, no suspicion dogs him, he is out of all danger of the law. Yet doth his unquiet conscience vex, trouble, haunt, torment him, gives him no more ease than he shall find on the gibbet, yea, if ever, his veiy confession shall assuage his pains. Another hath sinned in uncleanness ; no man accuseth him, yet if ever he shall be cleansed by repentance, his conscience will so gird him, that he never rests till, by prayers and tears, contrition for it, and resolution against it, he hath made his peace with God. Now, ' if om- own heart condemn us, God is greater,' 1 John iv. 20. That the very falling into some extraordinary sin should often occasion a man's good. Who could work this but the providence of our Father? The thought of it is so terrible, and the guilt appears so irksome to him, that many days he bleeds for one hour's error—hates the place, the cause, the temptation to such a lewdness. As the being once overtaken with wine hath been a means to keep a man sober all his life after, so that he answers the next invitation to such excess with the dear remembrance of his former sorrows, what it cost him to recover his peace. Thus out of transgression doth the divine providence work sanctification.

4. If a supernatm-al hand did not govern the world, how could things come to pass so long foretold ? Or how could they be so long foretold before they come to pass ? What man can prognosticate what particular event shall happen in this land a thousand years hence, if the world so long continue ? There is nothing in nature, nothing in art, nothing ia the stars to make man thus wise. Let God inspire him, he can presently specify it. Josiah is named some two hundred and sixty years before he was born, 1 Kings xiii. 2, and that he should then do the prophet speaks of as now in acting. Future things are present to the eternal. What are some centuries of years to the ' ancient of days ?' What a perfect record is there of all names in the rolls of heaven, before they be, after they be passed ? At the giving they seem to be contingent in the wills of the parents or witnesses, yet were they before under the certainty of the divine knowledge, and are better known in heaven, ere they be, than upon earth whiles they are. God knows what names we shall have before we have a being, yea, he knew them before the world was; and to testify this knowledge he doth sometimes specially name the man whom many years after shall produce. There cannot be a more clear and certain evidence of a true God than the prescience of those things, whose very causes have yet no hope of being. No tongue, 0 Lord, but thine could declare it, no hand but thine accomplish it.

5. By comparison. Man doth his business with prudence and circumspection ; and shall not God be more provident over his work ? It is a proverb in Pindarus, homines etiam triduanum prainoscunt ventum, 'Who hath put wisdom into the inward parts, or understanding into the heart.' How wise is he that makes man so wise ? How should it be that homo j)rovidus conderetur a Deo non j)'>'ovido ? ' He .that teacheth man knowledge, shall not he know ?' Ps. xciv. 10. In all things the cause is nobler than the effect, the workman better than his work. The very ants have a providence. As if they foresaw a dear year, they gather more greedily, and fiU their garners fuller. * The stork, turtle, and crane know their appointed times,' Jer. viii. 7. Who endued them vnth such a sagacity but a most provident God ? Some wi'ite of the mice, others of the spiders, that ncinam domus prcesentiunt.

They foresee the rain of a house, and get them gone ere it fall. How do the hirds build their nests with secrecy and cunning ? the foxes and hares make and keep theii* muses and burrows ? Lord, they all acknowledge thy pro\'idence, ' in whose hand is the soul of every hving thing, and the breath of all mankind,' Job xii. 10.

6. My last argument is fi"om the feeling of eveiy man. Let him that receives not good from this providence deny it. Bonum est quod omnia appetunt* It is undoubted in speculation, experimented in action. Wo cannot see the goodness that is in God, but the goodness that is from God we may; not goodness in the subject, but in the object. There is lux in lucido, and lumen in diaphano. Now, so generous an offspring must needs argue a divine pai'ent; and in the fruit we have an image of the tree. Nor is this goodness confined only to the orb of Israel, as if the world had no portion out of God's treasuiy. His goodness extendeth her sweetness, no less than his omnipotency doth her power. As no man hves that enjoys not the light and heat of his visible sun, so no man continues li^ing but by the beams of this invisible goodness. ' He left not himself without witness, in that he did good,' Acts xiv. 17. Not that everything is imiversally good for all things, but everything is good for something. Vult Deus omnibus bonum, non vult omnibus omne bonum. .So that which antipathises against one thing sympathiseth with another. What is poison to one is another's food. Things bad to us were not from a bad beginning, as the Manichee would persuade an ignorant man, when flies molested him, that the devil made flies. We have too many such Manichees, that think what is repugnant to their humours is not good.f In an artificer's shop there be instruments wherewith a rude handler may cut his fingers ; shall he therefore condemn them, or him that doth dexterously use them ? We will not do this in a shop, and shall we in the world vilify such things as God useth to his glory ? W^e know not why frogs or flies or wonns were made, yet we see them good in their kind, though sometimes noxious to us. Now, if those things be so good that are made of nothing, and changed in time, how incomprehensible is the goodness and sweetness of their maker?! 'Lord, the eyes of all things wait upon thee,' Ps. cxlv. 15, and thou sustainest them.

Conclusion —It is the common course of the world to undervalue God's goodness. His favours of the day are forgotten before night, and his protection in the night finds no thanks in the morning. If things go well with us we think it no more than our due; if ill, we are ready to quaiTel with God's providence. Yea, is not his goodness ravished and misused to the encouragement of our badness ? Do we not convert his bounty to our im-penitency, his forbearance to our hardness ? Do we not wilfully offend him, while (we must confess) he doth gi-aciously defend us ? Do we not lift up our sword against him that is our buckler ? and wrestle against that mercy which would save us ? So little do we acknowledge his goodness towards us, that we make use of it to our own ill. There be milhons of causes why we should honour God. It is hard if this one cannot prevail vnth. us, that he does us good. Solomon was said to be without compare, 1 Kings iii. 12, yet even the hlies exceeded him, Luke xii 27, saving only in this, that he was sensible and apprehensive of God's goodness, which the other were not. To leave outward benefits, look into thine own bosom. There is enough to make thee cry out Quam bonus Duminus! If the multitude of his mercies could be numbered, or their greatness mea-* A list. t Aug. X Bern.

sured, when we recollect our own sins we liad cause to despair. But seeing our sins may be numbered and measured, and his mercies cannot, we may be comforted in him that overcomes our evil with his goodness. He is offended, and forbears; provoked, and yet blesses. We sin, he delays to pimish. We are peevish, and he is patient. If we repent he pardons us. If we retui-n he receives us. While we linger he prevents us. So above measm-e, 0 Lord, art thou good to us. Make us in some measure good to thee.

Thus in general of the divine providence. Now, God governs the world with means, or without means. Without, so he made heaven and earth without an instrument, trees to grow without a sun. Man's first garment was of leather, without means God made it. He caused the Israelites' apparel to last forty years without mending. The hungry Hons shall fawn upon Daniel, the inflamed furnace not singe a hair of those three martyrs; seas and rivers shall forbear their wonted coorses; rocks shall pour out waters ; the prophet's cloak shall divide Jordan ; iron shall swim ; the sian shall stand still for Joshua, go back for Hezekiah; five loaves shall feed thousands. Above nature, against nature, can our Maker effectuate his wUl. With means; such are rational, as angels and men; or irrational, which is the course of nature, created by his wisdom, conserved by his goodness. Among which, I take the sun and rain as two principal instances ; and as you may taste the sea by a drop, so in this abridgment consider his imiversal providence.

* He maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good; and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust,' Matt. v. 45.

1. The sun; this is one of God's common blessings, a most excellent piece of this fabric, by which many benefits are conveyed to all creatures. The world without it were like a fair house without a window, or a goodly person without an eye. It is admirable and effectual.

(1.) For extension of heat; every creature receives warmth from it. Therefore the philosopher calls ii principium generationis: general hominem homo et sol. Naturally, no life can be received or preserved without heat; now, ' nothing is hid from the heat thereof,' Ps. xix. 6 ; therefore it may be called universalis miindi ignis. But some countries are exceeding cold ; how then doth this sun extend his heat to all ? To all, but not to all aUke: the remoteness of it to some places, and at some times, was by God's first institution, who gave it an ecliptic line, and bade it run so. The spring would not be so welcome if there was no winter, heat itself would annoy were it continual. Yet even to the furthest climates it sends 80 much warmth, as they must perish without it.

(2.) For communication of light; God in the creation drew together all that light he had made, and gathered it to the body of the sun, that from that treasury all the world might be enriched. Therefore it may be called universalis mundi ocidiis, the world's eye: we cannot see the sun's Ught but by the light of the sun. The true value of such a benefit, those old mufiled Egyptians, and such as now live in disconsolate dimgeons, can sufficiently prize. The best thing that ever came to mankind is called * the light,' John ix. 5. Our bodies were bhnd heaps of earth without the sun, our souls dark shadows without Christ.

(3.) For distinction of times ; that we may know the term of time, fi'om the beginning of the world to the end. The computation of the year depends upon it; by it spring is discerned from summer, autumn from winter. In the accomplishing of some extraordinary work, God hath often put an

extraordinary sign in the sun. When he threatens to make the rivers of Egypt run wnth the blood of the inhabitants, he says, ' I will cover the sun with a cloud,' Ezek. xxxii. 7. When he gave that miraculous conquest over five kings and theii* kingdoms, ' The sun stood still in Gibcon.' When he prolonged the days of sick Hczekiah, ' the sun went back on the dial of Ahaz.' At the death of our Savioiu', the sun was totally eclipsed, the moon being then in the full; which caused a great^astronomer to say, Vel Dens naturie jmiitur, vcl mwuU viachina dissolvUur* At his coming to judgment, the sim shall be darkened, and the moon turned to blood. For the ordinaiy works of nature, as ploughing, sowing, planting, &c., ordinary signs are sufficient. So the sun may be called universalemundl horolog'mm, the gi-eat clock or dial of the world. It is a creature that continually looks upon us, and we look upon it, yet forget to read the goodness of our Maker in it. Let us not worship it, like sottish Indians; but worship God for it, Like good Christians.

2. Facit solcm suum, he maketh His sun to shine; the sun in the firmament is God's Sim, not ours. * The world is mine, and the fulness thereof. The earth is the Lord's,' Ps. 1. 12; his, not om-s; wo walk upon it, but it is 'his footstool,' Matt, v, 35. To shew it is his, he causeth it to help his servants: ' The earth helped the woman,' Rev. xii. 16, by swallowing up the flood cast out of the dragon's mouth. To confound his adversaries, 'the earth opened, and swallowed up Dathan.' 'The seals his, he made it,' Ps. cvi. 17; and he made it devour his rebels. The sea will shew the Egyjjtians that it regards the rod of Moses, not the sceptre of Pharaoh, Exod. xiv. 2G; and as if she were glad of such an advantage over God's enemies, she shuts her mouth upon them, swallows them into her stifling bowels; and after she had made sport with them awhile, casts them upon her sands, for a spectacle of triumph to their adversaries. Neither sea nor land do naturally divide themselves. The sea is moist and flowing, and wiU not be divided for the continuity of it; the earth is dry and massy, and will neither naturally open nor shut again when it is opened. Yet to shew that both sea and land are the Lord's, the waters did part in twain, to give way to the Israelites for theii' deliverance; and the earth did cleave, to give way to those conspu'ators for their vengeance: both earth and sea did shut their jaws again upon God's adversaries. There was gi'eat wonder in both. It was marvel that the waters opened, no marvel that they did shut again; for their ebbing and flowing is natural. A marvel that the earth opened, but a greater that it did shut again; because it hath no natural disposition to meet when it is divided. But in both we see that God can use his creatures to his own pleasure, and make them spill or preserve with ease. ' The waters saw it, and fled; Jordan was diiven back,' Ps. xiv. 3.

The waters Imow their Maker: when Christ wag baptized, Jordan did flow and fill its banks; when the same God leads Joshua through it in state, the waters must run back to the fashion of walls, and leave the channel dry. As if a sinew were broken, it recoils to both issues, and stands in admiration of its commander. What a sight was this to their heathen enemies, to see the waters make both a lane and a waU for Israel! Neither do they run hastily thi'ough this sti'ange way, as if they feared lest the tide should return; but they pace gently, in a slow march, knowing that watery wall to be stronger for them than walls of brass could be against them. He that seeks not a ford for their passage, but cuts the

* Dion. Areop.

waves, shews the sea to be his, and every creature observant to him. He could have made Jordan Uke some sohd pavement of crystal for their conveyance ; but this had not been so magnificent, every great frost can congeal the water in a natural course. But for a running stream to stand still, to give back, and mount to heaps, till it become a hquid wall, is for nature to run out of herself, to do homage to her Creator. 0 how glorious a God do we serve, to whom aU elements do willingly submit themselves, and are glad to be what he pleaseth to make them! ' The day is thine, and the night is thine; thou hast made the light and the sun, summer and winter,' Ps. Ixxiv. 16. The heaven is his, the earth is his, the sea his, the sun his: if he bid it shine, it shineth ; if he chargeth it to forbear, it hides its face. At his appointment it runs forward like a giant, at his rebuke it rans back like a coward. Mortal men boast of their lands, of theu' gold and silver, of their flocks and herds ; but ' the earth is the Lord's, and all that is therein ;' ' eveiy beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thousand hills,' Ps. 1. 10. In all things there is God's superscription ; therefore • give unto God the things that be God's.' Let us not go from the Maker to the creature, but rather let every creature direct us to the Maker.

3. Facit, He doth make his sun to rise; not only hath at the beginning, but still doth. By virtue of his providence, the sun shineth, the earth fructifieth, everything retains the ingrafted power. ' Hitherto my Father worketh, and I work,' John v. 17. He did not leave aU to be governed by others, neither by intelligences nor by angels, as one makes a clock, and leaves it to the sexton's keeping ; but he continually moves upon the world, as the Spirit did on the waters, not to hatch a new world, but to conserve the former. So long as the spring runs, the river holds its wonted stream; if that once be dry, her channels will be soon empty. God is that fountain which supplies every creatm-e, and there is nothing which his manutenancy upholds not. As it is a sun, and his sun, so the virtue it hath to light and heat is from his maintenance, that God may be all in aU.

You will say. We are not heathen, to doubt these things. Nay, the very heathen should not have doubted these things. The whole world is a hai-p, every string whereof cannot be moved and touched in so sweet a haimony without an infinite God; yet as some little children call every man they see their father, so those blind naturals mistook everything for their maker. As -ffidipus, in the poets, knew in general that he had a father, but knew not who his father was, and therefore such was his misfortune that whom he carefully sought he unwilhngly slew; so mufiled pagans know there is a God, but not what this God is. Therefore, while they do not diligently seek him, they ignorantly blaspheme him. ' But now, ask the beasts, and they shall teach thee,' &c.. Job xii. 7, &c. Every creature hath a trumpet in its mouth to proclaim the Deity. All are regit 2^1'ofessores, professors of that great King, preachers of his divinity; and the name of being they bear is thus -wi-itten, ' The Providence of God.' This is a witness of such duration, that no time can obliterate it; yea, time itself remonstrates it, and eternity shall more clearly explain it.

Had God written the book of his providence as he did the book of his law and gospel, mth pen and ink, it had been understood only by the learned.* The rich might have bought it, the poor wanted it, the greater number know no more than their own language; therefore, he wrote this argument in every man's tongue: ' Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, Cretes and Ai-abians, &c., all hear in their o^\Ta tongues the wonderful works of

« Clirys.

God,' Acts ii. 11. Critics would have been as busy in corrupting the elements as they are now in abusing words, had this been committed to books. Yea, because nature is so diametrally repugnant to transubstantiation, the Council of Trent would have condemned it, or at least forbade it the laics in a \ailgar tongue. Our atheists had then been heretics, and, turning over nature's text, would have interpreted it by the devil's comment. But this book of universal pro\-idence is too heavy to be transported, too clear to be corrupted, too high to be reached with profane hands, too strong to be torn, too open to be shut, too plain to be misconstrued. ' The heavens declare the glory of God, and the fii-mament sheweth his handiwork,' Ps. xix. 1; his handiwork, not only the manufactm*e but manutenancy of his hand. These things we do not deny, but we do not mind; the creatures be always in our eye, often in our hand, in our mouth, in our sense, when God is not in our heart. There is no creature but tells us with an audible voice, I am not he thou seekest, but I subsist in him whom thou seekest in me; he that made mo and thee hath set me here to dii-ect thee to himself, that all glory might bo his. If we shall honom- the sun and forget God, this is truly to ' come out of God's blessing into the warm sun.'

4. The rain to fall. This is another of those common blessings whereby the divine providence enricheth the world, the rain. Calidmn ct humidum are the two piUars of om* life. The sun is called jmncijnum generationis, jnvpter calorem; the rain, propter humorem: the one, ratione agentis; the other, ratione materice. Without heat, moisture would di'own; without moisture, heat would parch. Without the sun, the world would be sick of a dropsy; wdthout rain, it would be sick of a bm'uing fever. Either of them severed would destroy it; both together do presence it. Summer would over-diy the earth, and, by drawing up vapours, infect the air, and breed pestilences, did not winter check it. Winter would extinguish life, benumb the earth, and rot the plants, did not summer reUeve it. Winter is like an old man, cold, but fi'oward, pettish, testy enough; summer like a young gallant, hot and fiery. These two would never agree together; therefore the spring and autumn, like men of more temperate dispositions, stand between them to part them. Fire and water, we say, can never agi'ee; yet thus hath the wise providence disposed, that by the concurrence of these contraries the consort of things should be preserved.

The sun draws up moisture, makes it a cloud, rarefies it; and as he took it from the earth, sends it back again in beneficial showers. A special means whereby the earth fructifies; ' Thou makest it soft with showers, thy paths drop fatness, and the httle hills rejoice on every side,' Ps. Ixv. 10 to the end. Therefore, the ' rain and fruitful seasons' are often united, Acts xiv. 17. This is one of those keys which God eutrusteth to neither angel nor seraphim, 'I will give you rain in due season,' Deut. xi. 14; I, not the Bun, not heaven, not an angel. The heavens, indeed, are ordinary instruments and second agents, but so subordinate to the fii'st worker, that in their actions he doth more than they. ' I will hear the heavens, and the heavens shall hear the earth, and the earth shall hear the fruits, and they shall hear Jezreel,' Hos. ii. 22. Our life is maintained by the fruits, the fruits are beholden to the earth, that to the heavens, they and all to the Lord. He gives that influence to the heavens which they give to the earth. The heaven like a father, the earth a mother, the children they bring forth are firuits, and these are for us. For God ordained not the heavens for their own Bakes, but for ours; and it is a treasury whereof himself still keeps the key, opening and shutting it at his pleasure. ' Canst thou loose the bonds of

VOL.lU. L

- 162 MEDITATIONS UPON THE CREED.

Orion?' Job xxxviii. 31. He gives it here, he denies it there, ' causing it to rain upon one city, and not upon another,' Amos iv. 7; restraining it in this place, to that enlarging it; sometimes so pom-ing it down that ' the ships howl' on the sea, Isa. xxiii. 1, and sometimes so scanting it that the * sheep mourn' on the land, Joel i. 20.

The Lord when he sends rain or drought respects our sin or obedience; he considers not in what position heaven is, but in what disposition we are. We look up to the heavens, God looks down upon us. We turn the ahnanac in vain; the best prognostication we are to rely upon is God's mercy and our own innocency. ' He turns dry land into springs of water,' Isa. xli. 18, to relieve the good; and 'a fruitful land into barrenness,' Ps. cvii. 34, to punish the bad. The Scripture speaks of no conjunctions nor oppositions of stars, no eclipses of the sun, whereby to gather what God wiU do, that we should study them. But this is God's rule, ' If ye consent and obey, ye shall eat the good of the land,' Isa. i. 19. Many~^ astrologers are so for natural causes, till they become natural fools. The stars, say they, work upon the elements, the elements upon compound bodies, the qualities of such bodies may change the senses, the senses being changed alter the understanding, the understanding inclines the wiU; therefore, the stars incline the will.J This is like the drunkard's argument: He that drinks well sleeps weU, he that sleeps well thinks no harm, he that thinks no harm is a good man; therefore, he that drinks much is a good man. It was a wiser answer of him that, being demanded the cause of those shelves about Sandwich haven, said it was the building of Tenterden steeple. They have set one poor man dweUing at twelve signs; an anatomy they call it, as if he were to be dissected by twelve chirurgeons. Butchers deal better (as a reverend divine* wrote in his younger days), for they join head and purtenance together; but these divide the head, heart, and lungs to several owners; saving that the liver, one of the most noble parts, hath no governor. Perhaps in old time men had no livers. When crows part among them a dead sheep, every one gets somewhat; but here either the signs scrambled or else played foul play, for Capricorn got nothing but the knees. It may be, he came too late to the dividend, but compassion was had, and a gathering was made; Sagittarius gave him the lower part of the thigh, and Aquarius the upper part of the leg, both which together make up the knee.

X Fond men ! how they cozen others, and themselves ! Those signs be not above where they look for them; they might look below and find them. The philosopher might have seen the stars in the water, he could not see the water in the stars, I am far from Copernicus's opinion, that the earth moves, and the heavens stand still; but what they imagine to find in the heavens, I am sure we find on the earth. Cancer is not there, but here many an apostate retrograde to goodness. Here is Scorpio, the slanderer and blasphemer; Ursa major and minor, and Draco, are not found there ; here be those oppressors and covetous defrauders, serpents, and hydras, and dog-stars, and dog-days. There is no Taurus nor Capricornus, no Aries nor Leo, above; here be those bulls and goats, persecutors and unclean livers, lions rampant, and rams assailant. Only we may believe that Libra is in heaven, for justice and her even weights and scales are

y__scarce to be found in earth.

The famines and wars, plagues and ruins, are not caused by the stars, l^or to be read there ; no constellations produce those dire effects, but our

* Perkin.

own sinful lives below. We are those wandering planets, that swerve from the holy line of truth ; we those irregular stars, of so strange fomis and names, that move in a lunatic orb, and keep not the orders and course which God hath prescribed us. Saturn with his malevolent influence, Venus with her tempting aspect, the trines, quadratures, bad conjunctions, and worse oppositions, are all beneath. The cause of good or evil seasons, is in our good or evil lives. Let us be good in the sight of heaven, and heaven shall be good to us ; no star will be malignant to our bodies, if we nourish no bad aflection in our souls. ' The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night,' Psa. cxxi. G. We fear no constellations, we fear our ti'ansgi-essions. We dread neither Jupiter's corruption, nor Mars's fever, nor Saturn's inflammation, nor Mercury's madness; only, 0 God of heaven and earth, let us fear thee and nothing else.

Seeing the proAddeuce of God so blesseth us with all necessary things, let us honour him with thankful praises. Even lewd persons, when they fare well at another man's cost, will say, ' God save the founders,' though themselves be the confounders and abusers of it. And shall not we, in sobriety of heart, bless that God who so blesseth us ? If a man be ingrate for one benefit, give him a second ; if for that, try him with a third ; but if he slight this also, hold thy hand. God hath given us thousands; if we hold oiu' mouth from praising him, he will hold his hand from prospering us. If the seiwant bur}' his one talent, he shall have no more. He that cannot husband a hundred, must not look to have a thousand. We that are unthankful for the sun and rain, have made ourselves unworth}' of Christ. ' The outgoings of the morning and evening praise him ;' yet we, over whose heads we know not whether the days or nights pass more merrily, forget him. Ingratitude loseth all, ' Take his talent from him,* Matt. XXV. 28. It deprives us of the good we have, it debars us of the good we might have, amittit data, praclndit danda. If men do not bless God for earthly things, he wall not trust them with heavenly things. K Esau cannot keep his birthright, he shall lose his blessing. Because the Jews corrupted the law, they were defeated of the gospel; and not valuing their own kingdom, the kingdom of heaven was taken from them, and given to those that will be thankful. While we praise not God for the hght of the sun, how should he give us the light of heaven ? While we disregard the benefit of elemental rain to our bodies, how can we expect that elemental dew of grace to our souls ? Lord, that we live not here in darkness, we are beholden to thy sun ; that we are not scorched and consumed with heat, we are beholden to thy rain. Make us thankful for these, much more for thy spiritual showers of mercy, and the light of glory.

Thus in general of God's providence ; now I come to the manner, parts, and kinds of it.

The manner of God's governing the world must be considered two ways, as it respects good, or as it respects evil. Evil is of two sorts, the fault, or the punishment.

Sin is governed of God by two actions. First, an operative permission; because he partly suflers it, and partly works in it. First, ia sin, there is the subject and matter, which is a certain quality or action, and those so far forth as they are themselves are good, having existence in nature, and God for their author, so that though sin be sufficiently evil to condemnation, yet it is not absolutely evil, as God is absolutely good. There is an infinite good, there is no infinite e^^l; because the subject of evil is good, and hath in it regards of goodness. Secondly, and the form, which is

an anomy or transgression. Now this latter, God neither willeth, nor ordaineth, nor commandeth, nor causeth, nor helpeth; but forbids, condemns, and punisheth. When Adam was tempted to fall, his understanding was good, his will good, affections good, the fruit good, all from God. But his using these to the breach of the commandment, was not good, but from Satan and himself. The wine in the cup is good, the stomach that receives it good, the lifting up of the hand good ; but the abuse of all these to excess is bad, and man's sin. The eye lusteth: the eye is good, the lustfol look sinful. The hand striketh ; the motion is from God, but the injury by that motion is none of his work, God moves the sinning instrument, he does not move the instrument to sin; the action is from him, the defect from ourselves. He puts no wickedness into us ; but the evil which he finds in us, he moves and orders by his infinite wisdom, the bad instrument not knowing the good which he intends. The blinded mill-horse goes on forward, and knows not but that he is in the ordinary way ; he thinks himself whipped for one purpose, the miller knows it is for another. David was threatened that his bed should be incestuously defiled, 2 Sam. xii. 11. The counsel of Ahithophel, the lust of Absalom, have but fulfilled this judgment of God. 0 that infinite wisdom! which can use the worst of evils well, and most justly make the sins of men his executioners. Neither is Absalom excusable by God's purpose, nor God chargeable with Absalom's fact. What if the Lord, for the con-ection of his own servant David, gave Shimei a tongue able to belch out such blasphemy, 2 Sam. xvi. 10; yet is Shimei's curse worthy of Abishai's sword. Wicked men are never the fi'eer from guilt or punishment, for that end and hand which the holy God hath in tiieir offensive actions. When David said, * let him curse,' he meant to give a reason of his own patience, not of Shimei's impunity.

The true-hearted Israelites would fight against that usurping Jeroboam ; God forbids them, by this reason, ' This thing is done of me,' 2 Chron. xi. 4. The smart of that rebellion was from God, the sin of Jeroboam's rebellion was his own. God wills that as Rehoboam's punishment, which he hates as Jeroboam's wickedness. That conspiring hand moved from God, it moved conspiringly from Satan. When the brethren sold Joseph, and their posterity killed Jesus, neither did other than God pui'posed ; neither meant to fulfil God's pmpose in it. There is a difference to be put between the evil work of man, and the good work of God in it. A malefactor is condemned, sentenced to die ; the executioner owes him a grudge, useth him hardly, by increasing his tortures, or prolonging his pains ; the judge and executioner do both one and the same work ; yet is it in the judge upright justice, in the executioner no less than muj'der. God so useth evil instruments, that he is free from the evil of the instruments. When he useth good instrumeiits, men or angels, he works by them, and in them, guiding them by his Spirit, that they shall will what he willeth. When he useth evil, he only works by them, not in them ; they shall do what he determines, yet are left to do as their own coiniption suggests. Secondly, Therefore his second action in the government of sin, consists in repressing and disposing it. He restrains men, that they shall not do what evil they would, and disposeth it to the good which they would not.

For the evil of punishment, it is but the execution of his justice, 1 Kings xxii. 22 ; Amos iii. 6 : evil it may be to the sufferer, is good in the inflio-ter. Thus he is said to blind the eyes, and to harden the heart, Exod. vii. 18 ; Isa. xix. 14 ; Rom. i. 28 ; and so must all such places be understood, 2 Thess. ii. 11.

In respect of good, which be the natures and substances of all creatures, even of the devils, the quantities, qualities, motions, actions, inclinations, simply considered in themselves, are good. There is a natural good, which God created for our use, and a moral good, which ho ordained for our practice. Now, these he governs sustinendo, that they decay not, and pro-movendo, by driving them to their own particular ends.

Let us learn here in what awful reverence to hold the divine providence, which makes that is good to be good to us, and keeps what is evil from us. Therefore we pray, Libera nos a malo; d malo homine, a malo dccmone; from evil men, from evil spirits, from evil works, from our own e\'il selves. The devil is hke a Saul, bent with a javelin against us : wicked men like Shimei, gnashing their teeth at us, desirous to crush oui* bones. We have Absaloms and AJaithophels, affections and opinions, the children of our own bosoms, and counsel of our own brains; all conspire against us feeble Davids, yet the Lord deUvers us from them all. ' They compass us like bees,' Ps. cxviii. 12. Many are the e^^ls we see and fear not, many we fear and see not, many we both see and fear, many we neither see nor fear. He whose eye of providence never sleeps, whose hand of governance never rests, doth still defend us. Satan is such a maUcious and potent evil that, let God give him but leave, he would destroy us in a moment; the world would sink us in the invindation of 6in. Our own hearts are false to ourselves ; and we need no worse an enemy than that we cherish within us. Still this gracious providence delivers us.

The kinds of this divine providence are two — general and special. General is that which extends itself to the whole word, and all things in it, indifferently, even to the reprobate angels. By this he maintains the order which he first did set in nature, preserving the life, being, substance of all. The qualities and virtues placed in the sun, stars, trees, seeds, herbs, would otherwise lie in them dead and unprofitable. He governs the world per oixovo-fiiav, as a monarch in his kingdom: xar luboxiav, according to his good pleasure, decreeing them to salvation whom he hath loved, and bringing salvation to them whom he hath decreed. Some add /xiTo, ouyx^u^ridiv, by concession, as he grants victories to Turks against Christians, and makes the wicked fortunate. 'All things (are said to) consist in God,'in respect—1. Of ubiquity: he comprehends all things, and is comprehended of nothing. The * nations are but a drop of his bucket,' and time but a drop of his eternity. 2. Of omnipotency : in his power the whole frame stirreth ; the heavens could not move without him. 3. Of omniscience : all are within his knowledge, and from it receive their order, as soldiers their directions from their captains. 4. Of decree : because the world did from everlasting hang in his foreknowledge and preordination. Thus they consist in him ; both for order, all agreeing in one glorious frame ; for continuance, that no substance in specie that was at first made ever ceased, and the very singulars of every sort do consist in individuo ; and for co-operation, all following his manuduction and rule. Thus, there is no creature that is not beholden to God, for being upholden by God.

St Paul tells the heathen that he did ' fill their heart with food and gladness,' Acts xiv. 17. The heart being synecdochically taken for the whole man ; for as food is the principal staff of Hfe, so the heart hath a principal operation in our food. Not but that a gentile may want food sometimes, when as even an apostle was ' in hunger,' 2 Cor. xi. 27, and a patriarch driven to change his dwelling for famine, Gen. xii. 10. This filling is (not according to the insatiate desii-e of lust) sufficient to satisfy nature, not to

Qontent humour ; not what man's folly may expetere, require, but what God's wisdom sees erpedire, convenient. But his hand is open to ail. Keprobates that hate him fare the better for him, by his gifts. Their eyes stand out with fatness, that set their mouths against heaven. Many think of their wealth, as they say of venison, so they have it, they never inquire unde, from whence it comes. But albeit thou mayest con the devil thanks for the manner of getting thy riches, yet thou art indebted to God for the substance itself. And thou that wouldst not pay God thy service for the substance, must pay Satan thy soul for the circumstance, hke him that will hire his house of one, and pay his rent to another. Acknowledge his goodness, or thou shalt feel his justice.

His special providence is that whereby he governs and blesseth his church, gathering them by his gospel, guiding them by his grace, and preserving them by his mighty power unto salvation, Isa. xliii. 1, 2. This doth not only wrap them up under the general blessing of his protection, but enlivens them with the Spirit of his special operation. It doth not only respect them as men, but as Christians ; not only as them in whom his image was once created, but as men in whom this image is again renewed. His general providence communicates good to all, that in him they ' live, move, and have their being.' His special to his childi-en, gives them the hfe of comfort, the motion of gi-ace, the being of happiness. Others have the blessedness of life, these have the life of blessedness. He often fills others' bones with marrow, their barns with corn, their purses with money, their bellies with his hidden treasures ; but he fills the ' hearts' of his chosen ' with gladness.' Ps. iv. 7. When a man apprehends a distasteful object, the heart contracts itself, and calls in the spirits which it was wont to send forth, whereupon the outward members tremble, and the face looks pale and wan. But when he conceives a pleasing object, the heart dilates itself, dispersing spirits into the outer parts, to give more scope of delight and enjoyment. Though this providence do such good to the wicked, that their table stands full of delicates, and their cups of wine, Dan. v. 6 ; yet' even in laughter the heart is soiTowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness.' But to the faithful, 'His blessing maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow with it.'

If wealth could give content, why should rich men ever be sad ? If honours, why cannot croAvns keep our cares ? No, man's triangular heart can never be filled with this globular world ;. but some corner will be empty, still there will be room for more. Only the three persons of the infinite Deity can replenish it with sweet satisfaction, to the utmost capacity of it.

This special care of the church is in Jesus Christ, ' in whom consist all things,' Col. i. 17. 1. Because he is that atonement which keeps the world fi-om being dissolved by Adam's fall. 2. Because the comfortable use of all the creatures is recovered to us, by a covenant or patent of mercy in him. 3. Because the respect to him and his chui'ch keeps the world up to this day, which being once complete, it should not stand one hour. Thus ' all things are ours, because we are his, and he is God's,' 1 Cor. iii. 22. All things : the scriptures for direction, sacraments for confirmation, angels for protection, creatures for sustentation, crosses for con-ection, death itself for the way to perfection. By what tenure do we hold all ? By deed of gift. In whom gi-anted ? In Christ. * Grace, mercy, and peace, from God oui- Father, and Jesus Christ our Lord,' 1 Tim. i. 2. Vt Deiis scit, ut Pater vult, ut Dominus potest, ut Noster debet Jesus Salvator in hoc.

ChrisUts imctiis ad hoc. ' I am, saith the Lord,' Exod. iii. G ; calling himself so, he is the God of all; ' The God of Abraham ;' so he is the God of his elect in Christ: ' I am thy God, 0 Israel !' Our God. (1.) Ours, ob sjjccialem cultiiin, we servo him. (2.) Ours, ob sprcialcm ciiram, he preserves us. (3.) Oiu's, ob specialcm incrcedcm, he will give us his own inheritance. Benjamin's mess exceeds the rest. Gen. xliii. 34. All Jehoshaphat's chikh'en have fair legacies ; Jehoram goes away with the kingdom, 2 Chron. xxi. 3. These God calls his jewels, Mai. iii. 17 ; other be but his ordinary vessels, these be his jewels. He gives common persons enough to make them happy for this world; ho enricheth his children with the blessings of the world to come.

1. Seeing this eye of providence is every^vhere, and no work, no thought is hid from it, let us wallc as in his presence. If the king had an eye to see every act, an car to hear every word in his kingdoms, durst the Seminary whisper treason, or the mutinous incense rebellion ? Adultery dares not abuse the wife in sight of the husband, though ho doth often in spite of the husband. ' Will he force the queen before my face,' saith Ahasuerus ? Esth. vii. 8. The servant will not steal from his master looking on; yet men rob God to his face. Do we think he sees us not ? ' He that made the eye, shall not he see ?' Can we put out the eye of knowledge itself? There is nothing so secret and abstracted from men's senses, ut creatoris aut lateat cognitioncm, aut eff'iir/iat potcstatem.*- He that stands on the bank, sees only the water mnning by him ; but fi*om a high tower, he sees the present stream, the water that is coming on, and that gone by. God on the battlements of heaven beholds all. The sun is the world's eye, yet the intei-positiou of the earth keeps him fr'om seeing us in the night. God sees in the night, the ' darkness and light are all one to him,' Ps. cxxxix. 12. But, alas ! men Hve as if this eye was put out; there sits one scorning holy things, in a holy place ; another plotting his neighboui''s niin ; a thousand sins in a thousand several shapes, projecting to themselves prosperity in their unrighteous courses. But all this while God is forgotten, as if these were not ' to be found sinners,' Gal, ii. 17. Though he seems now to connive, j'et he will 'judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ,' Rom. ii. IG. Men may by their sins hide God fr-om themselves, they can never hide themselves from God. We are never out of his sight; therefore let him see us so live in gi-ace, that we may live to see him in glory.

2. Let us be patient in all estates, seeing nothing can happen to us but by the disposition of this providence. The body is inseparable from the soul during life, yet we see not the soul, but the body only. So we cannot sever God's providence fr-om the act done, yet wo see the act more clearly than his pro^•idence. Therefore we have two eyes, that if we fasten one upon the visible calamity, we may fix the other on God's invisible mercy. Thou art deprived of thy health, estate, friends, or liberty; I deny not that thou shouldst look on these miseries, and in those sorrowful characters read thy own deserts ; but TAdthal, behold the hand that sent them. These be like shavings, to make us smooth aud sti-aight; if God pare us to the quick, it is because we should feel it; that so being sensible of the smart, we might amend the fault. If this act of providence can efiectuate our patience ; then as the stars do shine in the night that be hid all day, so our Christian courage, that lay obscm-e in the sunshine of prosperity, by the night of affliction shall appear more glorious.

3. Let us beheve that God will provide for us; this is a main strength

* Aug.

of tliis article. This was Abraham's faith; Dominusprovidebit, Gen. xxii. 8. We desire and have not, because we ask not; we ask and have not, because we beheve not. Never man wanted provision that trusted in this providence. God lacks neither wiU, nor skill, nor power to help us. We call him ' almighty,' therefore beheve that he can ; ' our Father,' therefore hope that he will; and that he may never be to seek, we know whither to go to him; 'which art in heaven,' he is always at home. He is called 'Jehovah,' not only because of his independent being, present to all times and places. Of all other things we may say, either they were and are not, or they are and were not, or they were and are, but shall not be; but Jehovah is the same for ever. God and Lord have been communicated to some creatures; never Jehovah. But also because of his mercy to his church; a constant care to provide for them. What is made, is mutable ; but the Maker is as good, as merciful, as gracious, as ever he was. He will make good all his promises ; man promiseth out of his poverty, what he cannot perform ; or out of his folly, what he should not perform; or out of his falsehood, what he will not perform. God can, for he is rich; knows, for he is wise; wiU, for he is faithful that hath promised. ' I have set the Lord always before me, therefore I shall not be moved,' Ps. xvi. 8. When David's soldiers threatened to stone him, ' he comforted himself in God,' 1 Sam. xxs. 6. Nothing shall dismay us, if we believe. If the challenger be on the left hand to defy us, we have a champion on the right to defend us; if the invader be behind, the protector is before us. When Stephen was fallen under that shower of stones, he saw Christ ' standing at the right hand of God,' Acts vii. 55. 'Standing;' often do we read him 'sitting' at the right hand, here ' standing.' In common distress he sits still, and so (as it were with ease) strengthens us ; but in this sore conflict, when his enemies were mad with rage, and the fii'st martjr was to encounter death for his name, he stands up, hke a champion vowing to revenge his own quarrel. * Lord, let thy mercy light upon us, as we do put our trust in thee;' ' Lord, in thee have I trusted; let me never be confounded.'

There be three sorts of men not rectified in their faith concerning God's providence. First, Some will not believe that he will do anything, unless they can cast about how he may conveniently do it; as if he could not cross the sea without making a bridge. Secondly, Some are so supinely dependent on this providence, that they neglect all appointed means, and look to be fed by miracle. Thirdly, Others will not believe that he favours any man's cause, when he affects his person; and so think that people's faith not to be worth the keeping, whom God suffers to be losers by it. The first gives God less than he should have, the next gives him more than he would have ; the former, too little; the other, too much ; the last give him nothing at all. Against those three errors I propose my next three directions.

4. We must not tie the divine providence to means ; as if God knew not how to preserve us, because we cannot prescribe him the manner. That prince thought, God must needs ' make windows in heaven,' 2 Kings vii. 2, and rain bread, or else that prophecy must fail. But as he heard it with his ears, and would not believe it with his heart ; so his judgment was to see it with his eyes, and not taste it with his mouth. True faith hath learned to trust God without means; it is but a sorry faith that trusts him with means, it is no faith at all that ties him to means. Let us bind aU means to God's providence, bind his providence to no means.

How often did that unfaithful Israel distrust their known God for un-

known means ? Merciless Pharaoh is behind them, a not more mcroilesfl sea before them ; and now they cry out, as if God knew not how to save them. Lo, his mercy is beyond tlicir infidelity, they are delivered. Now they that had complained of too much water, go three days without; as if God meant to punish their unbelief with the defect, who had distrusted him for the abundance. Water was their fear, water shall be their want. Before they saw all water, and no land ; now they see all dry land, and no water. Well, after three days God sends them water; will they yet trust him ? But what was it ? * bitter water,' Exod. xv. 23 ; long thirst will make bitter water seem sweet, but these could not be endured. The wells ran pure gall; they hked their moisture, but abhorred their relish. Lo, God sweetens the waters; will they yet trust him ? No; now they complain as fast of hunger. ' He sent us indeed streams of water, but can he give bread also? can he provide flesh for his people?' Ps. Ixxviii. 20. Here was drink, and meat. Now, as if there was as little possibihty of the thing, as visibility of the means, they cry out with less hope than they that gather rehef for prisoners do at the doors of usurers ; bread and meat! God, to try them further, and to magnify his own power, gives them what they ask, and no more. They desire flesh, and receive quails ; they beg bread, and have manna. Had it been the coarsest flesh, and the basest pulse, himger would have eaten it vdthout sauce, and thought it dainty. But God doth not only supply, but pamper them; gives them the meat of kings, and the bread of angels. By what means ? Do they till the ground, plough and sow ? they might have perished before harvest; neither was the wilderness fit for increase. Do they reap, and thrash, and grind, and bake ? No, God prepares this bread to their hands. Other bread ariseth from the earth, this comes down from heaven. Do they spread their nets, whistle, call for the quails ? do they go a fowling for their dinners ? These be ordinaiy means. No; they travel not to seek the quails, the quails travel to seek them. They come not by instinct of nature, but by the power of the Creator ; needs must they come, whom God brings.

Take one instance more. The same Israelites see those walled cities, whose height yet was not answerable to their report. Josh. vi. 2 ; the fame 80 afirighted them, ere their eyes beheld them, that they were likely to say in distrust, How shall we scale those in-vincible fortifications ? what engines can batter such towers? God prevents their unbelief; tmdidi in maman tuam, ' I have delivered them into thy hand.' Were their walls higher than eagles could soar over, this is enough for their downfall. For on whose earth have they raised those castles ? out of whose treasury digged those piles of stones ? "Who gave them art, strength, and lime to build ? Be their foundations deep as hell, their battlements above the clouds, their soldiers giants, their commanders made up of policy and valom*, this same ' I have delivered them to thee,' is enough to vanquish all. Means can do nothing without God, much less against God. But still the want of means dismays Israel, and flatters Jericho; these do not fear, the other cannot hope. Lo, on a sudden, the walls fall down of themselves ! They had silver trumpets, yet must use rams' horns; they had swords and arms, they use only their voices and feet; means poor enough, but the rich power of God performs all.

Let these examples strengthen our faith in this providence. The gates of hell are stronger than the walls of Jericho ; yea, we do not besiege Satan, but Satan besiegeth us; the fortifications of sin are to nature utterly invincible. Yet by means that appears contemptible to the world, they shall

r70' MEDITATIONS UPON THE CREED.

be overthrown and triumplied over, 1 Cor. i. 27. How weak soever water appears in the font, bread and wine at the table, or man's voice in the pulpit, for so great a work, yet even by these doth the unlimited power of God save our souls. If he were bound to means, he would have kings his orators and angels his preachers, and not poor ministers; but he will have us owe all the honour of our salvation only to himself. Do we want sus-tainments ? we cannot be nearer driven than God's own people in the wilderness. Cities have bread, but thou wantest money; they had money, but the wilderness had no bread. God sends it; how ? by a leisurely providence ? were sowers, mowers, millers, bakers employed in it ? No ; we are under these means, God is above them. ' Can he furnish a table in the wilderness?' Ps. Ixxviii. 19. Yes, even in the places of extremest, scarcity. The fowls shall come in flocks, like obedient creatures, at their Maker's call, and offer themselves to their slaughter. We do not so willingly serve him for our preferment and salvation. Who can distrust the groat Housekeeper of the world, when he sees such provision in his storehouse, and that he can furnish tables in the wilderness ?

Did he so then, and cannot he do so now ? Is he growing careless? or rather we faithless ? He that made one suit last forty years whole, shall not we trust him for clothing ? Do we think it impossible to be sustained because we want money ? Paul speaks of ' content in food and raiment;' he mentioned not money. I have known many children want, whose fathers did put confidence in their moneys ; I never knew any want whose fathers did put their confidence in God. How many orphans iu this city are left without portion or patrimony, yea, knowledge of their own parents. God provides that they do not perish, Hos. xiv. 3. He still stuTeth up one heart or another, by one means or another, to comfort the poorest. The Israehtes never fared so well as when they were at God's immediate finding, and in the morning expected their breakfast from heaven.

But now, you say, God works by no miracles. As if he could not find means, because he will do no miracles ! As if nature was not his servant, to do as he bids her ! What if he does not keep the widow's meal from wasting by expense, when he sends her every day new meal ? What if he do not multiply our old store, when he supplies us with new ? What if we have no bread left in the evening, when he gives us ' every day oru: daily bread ?' We are taught to beg bread for the day, not that this day's bread should last us the whole year. While om* provision holds out, we have less occasion to pray; it is our sensible want and dependence on God that gives wings to our devotion.

Yea, even still God works miracles, though we take no notice of them. That our hearts should be converted by preaching, this is a miracle. That our faith should believe above reason, this is a miracle. That Satan doth not destroy us, this is a miracle. If he does not fetch water out of a rock, yet he fetcheth repentance out of sin, and makes the stony heart gush out tears; this is a gi'eater miracle. If he does not turn water into wine, yet he turns our sorrow into joy ; as great a miracle. If he does not feed five thousand bodies with a few loaves, yet he feeds five thousand souls with one sermon; as great a miracle. If he does not open the corporeal eyes of one bom blind, yet he enlightens the understanding that was born blind to spiritual things; no less a miracle. Still he cleanseth lepers, casteth out devils, raiseth the dead, straightens cripples, stops bloody issues; in a spiritual manner; no less miracles. Why do we not trust him without a miracle, who will work miracles from heaven rather than we shall want provision

upon earth ? Why do wc not repose upon his mercy ? Lord, thy hand is not shortened to give, let not ours be shoi-tened or shut to receive! Why do ye not wait on him, whom wo have found so powerful, so merciful ? We set the mercy and love of God upon a wrong last, while we measure it only by our present sense. Nature is jocund and cheerful while it prospercth: let God but withdraw his hand, no sight, no tnist. Many can praise him for a present favoiu-, that cannot depend upon him in the want of means for a future. We are all never weary of receiving, wo are soon weary of attending.

5. Let us use ordinate means, but not trust unto them. So must we accept the means, that wo rely on his pro\adence ; and so rely on his providence, that we do not neglect the means. Man hath two apprehensive instnimeuts, his hand and his heart; and there lie before him two objects, the divine providence and ordinaiy means; this natural, that supernatural. Now, if he shall misplace these, and lay hold on the wi'ong object, his error is fearful; as when he shall give God his hand, and the means his heart; his hand to God, to work with his visible power; his heart to the means, as if there was his confidence. To beg that from heaven which lies before us on earth, is slothful negligence ; to take that on earth, without trusting on the blessing of Heaven, is faithless diffidence. ' Shall the able sluggard lie on his back, and call God to help him up ? Doth the soldier look that God should give him the ^-ictor}', while he fights never a stroke ? No; but ' let the praises of God be in thefr mouth, and a two-edged sword in their hand,' Ps. cxhx. 6. So Joab : ' Let us play the men, and the Lord do what seemeth him good,' 2 Sam. x. 12. How did our Saviour disclaim trust in the means ! There is other ways to live than by bread, Matt. iv. 4 ; yet in due season he did eat, not refusing the means upon any presumption of this providence. So he repelled another temptation, descending by the stairs from the pinnacle, not the next way; he knew that the devil did but equivocate vnth him, leaving out ' in all his ways.'

God himself does not exercise this miraculous power when nature lies ready for his use : * Take the rod in thy hand, wherewith thou smotest the river, and smite the rock,' Exod. xvii. 5. God could have done it by his will without a word, by his word without a rod; but he will do that by means, which he can as easily do without. Besides, what virtue was in the rod to cleave a rock ? An axe, or stronger engine, cannot do this. There was no virtue in the rod, none in the stroke, but all in the command of God. Means we must use, but expect their efficacy out of themselves. They that use not the means to get faith and repentance, do no more indeed repent or believe than they can hve that neither eat nor drink. As we say of a false friend, wheresoever I see him I will trust to myself; so wheresoever I meet the flattering world, I will trust to the everlasting Lord.

5. Let us not think the worse of a good cause, because this providence doth not always prosper it according to om' expectation and desires. Because God doth not at once ' consume that man of sin,' shall we suspect our own religion ? The men of Israel were smitten by the men of Ai, yet the men of Ai had not the true religion, but the men of Israel. Professors of the gospel in foreign parts are persecuted by the antichristians, spoiled of their countries, inheritances, privileges, peace ; shall we therefore judge the divine providence, or fault the gospel ? The Spirit of gi-ace, and our holy faith forbid it. Because God doth not send them present deliverance, nor present likelihood of dehverance, shall we think he dishkes the cause,

and so grow cool in our devotion at home, as if he neglected it abroad ? Canaan was the Israelites' own land, long before they enjoyed it; being lineaUy descended from him that was first possessor of it next after the flood, and so right heirs ; yet were they so long kept out of possession, that they were not able to set their title on foot, yea scarce knew their own title; yet God restored them to it.

From small and unlikely beginnings the divine providence produceth great effects. Against Sennacherib he did not stand to levy, muster, train, and arm soldiers ; but took a nearer way; his angel making in one night, one hundred eighty-five thousand dead corpses, Isa. xxxvii. 36. To satisfy the prophet's servant, taken with a bodily fear, he did not so much as trouble an angel, but by a mere apparition in the clouds effected it, 2 Kings v. 16. Against the Philistines, with their thirty thousand chariots, he did not employ an angel, not a cloud, no creature at all; but struck a terror into their hearts, and they slew one another, 1 Sam. xiv. So he reduced Gideon's two and thirty thousand to three hundred men, lest the augmentation of their forces should be the diminution of his honour. He will not be wooed with multitudes, when he means to fight himself. When God made the world, was it not of nothing ? For the several creatures, made on several days, he had matter before him, stuff enough to cut them out of aU sizes ; in his first work there was the seed of all creatures. But for the stuff itself, heaven and earth, this he made of nothing; he had not any seed of heaven to which he might say. Do thou hatch out heavens, sun, orbs, or stars; he had no seed of earth to which he might say. Do thou hatch an earth. All at first was nothing, and from that nothing came all. Now he that made the whole earth of nothing, cannot he recover one piece of it with a little ?

The church was very thin, when EUas knew of none but himself; God tells him of seven thousand more. Seven thousand was much to one, was httle to all the world ; yet these seven thousand have peopled heaven with armies of martyrs, flocks of lambs, saints without number, and replenished those places of glory, depopulated in the fall of angels. Rev. vii. 9. Still God bath his ' remnant,' and out of that remnant he will make up the whole garment, Rom. xi. 5. Often do we continue a sioful course of Ufe, drown the holy graces in our hearts by habitual practices of naughtiuess, fall asleep in our uncleanness, or covetousness, or intemperance, to the very forgetting of all devotion in God's service ; and if we do hear, it is sleepily ; if pray, perfunctorily. When we are roused from this spiritual slumber, and see the fearful estate we stand in, we begin with trembling to apprehend the anger of God, think his mercy inaccessible, his majesty inexorable ; and are ready to sink into the gulf of desperation. Yet the Lord recovers us, there is ' the seed of God remaining' in us; upon which the Holy Ghost sits and hatcheth a new creature of us ; and from that little beginning we are brought to a modest, but infallible, assiu-ance of his mercy towards us.

Now weigh the means whereby he doth this ; it is so small in appearance, that none can discern it but he that feels it. He suffered the magicians to counterfeit some of his gi-eater works; but in the least, he brought them to acknowledge the finger of God. The finger, that was enough ; the arm of God, the hand of God needs not; for what he will do, his finger is suf-ficent. Some rabbins held, that the devil could not make any creature less than a barley corn. As with men, it is harder to make a little clock, a little picture ; Homer's Iliads in a nut-shell; anything in a little than in a larger form. Because it is so with men, they dreamed it to be so with Satan. But we that are apt to admire gi'eat works in small forms, why do

we not believe that God will do great works with small means ? Let this stay and pacify our hearts and tongues in all the great business of the world ; the undertakings of princes, the discomfiting of armies, the restoring of inheritances, the mahce of persecutors, the sufl'erings of saints. On this blessed providence let us all wait; without either presumptuous confidence, or cowardly diffidence ; beseeching God to dispose of them, of us, of all, to his o^Ti glory. ♦ The poor committeth himself unto thee, for thou art the helper of the fatherless,' Ps. x. 14.

7. Let us take heed of ascribing any good thing to other cause than the divine providence. That old Chaldean superstition is devolved to us; we ' sacrifice to our nets,' Hab. ii. IG, to our wits. A sin that God was so careful to prevent in his Israel; that the prophet was so heedful to avoid in himself. ' Not our own arm, not our own sword.' hath gotten us the victory, Deut. \'iii. 17 ; therefore ' not unto us, not unto us, but to thy name give the glory,' Ps. xliv. 3. God gives us rain, and we are ready to praise the weather for it; he sends us plenty, we commend the earth ; he grants us peace, we applaud our own power and policy. Preferment comes, then the plotting of our brains, the goodness of our friends, the success of our good fortunes, are only mentioned. Then, we are bom under a lucky planet, we rise ofi" our right sides ; anything hath the honour, rather than he that owns it. It was the error of Israel to Aaron, faclto nobis deos, ' make us gods to go before us ;' but they were not so impudent as to say,

facito nos deos. make us ourselves gods to go before others.

We are apt to erect images,, and dress altars to ourselves: though Saturn be turned out of his kingdom, Plutus be confined to hell, and Phoebus have resigned his chariot. We do not call Paul Mercurius, and Barnabas JupHer; we ourselves will be Jupiters and Mercuries, new earthly deities. From the worship of the pontificjil ' beast,' many are relapsed to a new ido^aliy ; instead of the pagan idols- siin and stars ; instead of the popish idols, saints and angels; they are ready to do homage to themselves, dust and ashes; not thinking of the cause above, but of their own industry below. You need not run to Piome, ransack tbeir temples, break dov<Ti their altars, and deface their image? : and there is indeed the glory of a church like the glory of a play-house, wbeie every man is courting Jiis own mistress ; you need not tell tbem. These be no gods, they can do j'oa no good. No; take a shorter jouiney, run to yourselves, and your own heails. Let us tell them, neither our ovni luck, nor our owa wit, nov oar own laboin*, hath brought us the good things we possess ; we are all miserable sinners, and worthy of nothing but toiinents. It is the di^•ine providence that hath hedged in our estates, set us in seats of honouv. filled our barns, fields, shops, houses ; it is this, not the sea. that hath wa'led in our land, and so long kept out invading war. It is this, not the clouds, that hath given us plenty; this, not ovt policy, that hath preseiTcd us in peace and truth. Without which, our meat aud di'iuk could no moie nourish us, than the stones in the wall. The Lord hath given us wealth and happinesS; the same God give us a'so content and thaukfiTlncss!

8. This discovers a main impostuie, aud received vanity of our days, th£ foretelling of future things; wli'ch attempt is a presumptuous iujuiy to God's providence. This is a study for those heathen that know not God, Jer. X. 2. He taught Israel by his prophets, he taught thee not by his planets. How expressly hath he confuted and confounded such foiiune-tellers ? Isa. xix. 12. If they will undertake to know fates by the stars, and by erection of figures, how comes it to pass that they do not know their own'?

He that is not able to know his own, and will promise to tell me mine, is either a fool or a juggler; choose him whether. ' Shew me the things that are to come hereafter, that we may Imow ye are gods,' Isa. sli. 23 ; this is only God's art, wiU you make yourselves gods ? ye shall prove yourselves fools. ' He frustrateth all their tokens, and makes the diviners mad,' Isa. xhv. 25 : God shall destroy them; 0 then let not us believe them. The prognosticator tells us that he believes God's providence; yet withal, he writes a prediction of all things that must happen the year following, which is indeed to compliment with God in words and to abuse him in deeds. Too many have thus lost God's providence in the stars, whereas the stars are to be found in his providence. And if they be to go a journey, or undertake a business, they will tuna over the almanac before the Bible, and consult the signs, while they forget to say their prayers. As if one having an excellent watch, should still be in admiration of the spring, by which all the wheels have the swifter or slower motion, and keep their course ; and never think of his art and invention that made it.

When such English almanacs come out, that set down all the future passages of the year as confidently as if they had received that prognostication from the angels, which they sell to the stationers : yea, when French almanacs come with their predictions concerniog states and princes, one would think that, in this clear light of truth, there should not be found one soul so dark as to credit them. But fools will be meddling with strange things, as the satyr did with fire till he burnt his fingers. Whatsoever these men prognosticate, the likeliest thing to happen is the direct contrary. Not once of twenty times did I ever turn over almanac to examine what he foretells of the present weather, but I found it quite cross. When they threaten us with rain, it is most commonly fair; and when they flatter us that it wiU be fair, it is sure to rain. Therefore Diogenes, when a bungler was a shooting, ran to the mark; other places might be dangerous, but he was sure he would never come near that. So the best credit to be given all these prophecies, whether of the weather, which is less intolerable, or of men's fortunes, which is most sacrilegious, is to presuppose the contrary. For when there are but two ways, cold or hot, wet or dry, good or bad (to shew how God laughs them to scorn firom heaven), they speak only that which shall not be. If they should hit the right, yet a fool might say as much ; it will rain, or it will hold up, it is but an even lay. Rather, man is his own star, and he that can keep a clear conscience commands the stars, they shall not constrain him. Let the stars do their worst, and star gazers say their worst, so long as we faithfully serve the God of heaven. I deny not but the stars have some power to work upon us, but this divine providence orders the stars ; and we have a Star above all stars, that hath ' the seven stars in his hand,' Rev. i. 16, ready to defend aH that trust in him.

9. Let the eye of our mind be always fixed on this divine providence, that considering the unspeakable goodness it hath continually done us, in all necessities we may hope that it will help us. Through all the passages of our life let us gather observations of it; how it kept us in the womb, brought us into the world, watched our cradles, guarded our infancy, tutored our youth, preserved us from danger, supplied us with blessings ; that thus finding it always hitherto graciously present, we may assure ourselves it will never be absent. David lacks a sword, Ahimelech can furnish him with none but Goliah's, 1 Sam. xxi. 9 : 0 give me that, there is none like it. Why ? for the metal's sake, or for the strength's sake ? No, other

might bo as sharp, as strong; but for the Lord's sake, of whoso mercy ho had so good experienco by that sword. Why else was Israel commanded to build altars and erect pillars in their passages, but that they might stand hke trophies and holy memoratives of the Lord's mighty mercies in those places ?

So God bids Moses ' take tho rod wherewith ho smoto the river,' Exod. xvii. 5 ; not simply naming tho rod, but with a description. Wliy ? Because with that rod he smote the river, and turned it into blood, Exod. vii. 20. Now his faith might well expect, that tho same rod, by tho same appointment, should as well tm-n the stone into water, as it did turn water into blood, and tho sea into a pair of walls. This latter wonder was easily credible to him, that had tried the rod to bo so miraculous. Nothing more animates us to present affiance, than tho recognition of favom's past. The same rod that brought plagues to Egypt, brings blessings to Israel; by the same means can God both save and condemn, as the same sword both defends and kills. Such due registers and records let us make of God's mercies, that wo may never want confidence, as oui" blessed Maker doth never want providence.

10. Let us imitate his providence, which is tho way to approve ourselves his children. Do good to all; why ? Your heavenly Father doeth so, Matt. V. 45 ; without this demonstration of love, 3'ou have little proof that you are not bastards. But such a one doth me harai, shall I do him good ? No man can so oflend thee as the sinner oflends God: yet God doth him good ; he lives by his pro\'idence. To love him that loves us, is the pubh-can's charity; it is common to dnmkards, w^horemongers, usm'ers, and is no more in effect but self-love. Non tarn diUfjit socium, qudm in socio seip-sum. Thus far the children of hell go, shall not the childi-en of heaven go further ? As we have received a greater measure of love from God, so let us shew a greater measure of love to men. Yet withal, as God makes some diflerence, giving good things to all, but the best to his servants ; so ' let us do good to all, but especially to the household of faith,' Gal. vi. 10, as those of a family will love together, and hold together, more than they will do with strangers.

11. Lastly, Seeing the divine providence bestows the creatures upon us to use, let us forbear to abuse them; for this were unthankfully to wrong God in them. They are sent to nourish us, sent to serve us, sent to teach us ; sent ad salutem, not to bo usedrttZ imaitiamA- The veiy bread we eat, should put us in mind of that bread of life; our apparel, of that garment of righteousness which doth justify us, and of glory that shall crown us; our houses below, of those eternal mansions above ; the light of the sun invites us to that everlasting light in heaven; the winds in their airy regions, of that sacred Spirit which blows and sanctifies whore he pleaseth; tho running streams summon us to that crj'stal river, and fountain of living waters ; tho earth, when it trembles, remembers us of the world's final dissolution.

There is no page in the book of nature unwi'itten on; and that which may not be a teacher to inform us, will bo a witness to condemn us. It is the voice of all creatures to man, accipe, redJe, cave ;f to which let me add, projice, parce, vale. Accipe, take us to thy use and comfort; I heaven am bid to give thee rain, I sun to give thee life, I bread to strengthen thy body, I wine to cheer thy heart; we oxen leave our pastures, we lambs our mothers, to do thee service. Eedde, remember to be thankful; he that * Bern. t Uug. de S. Victor.

gives thee all, commands thee to return him somewhat; it is hard if thou canst not thank the great housekeeper of the world for thy good cheer. Cave, beware of abusing us; the beasts of the field cry, Do not kill us for wantonness; the fowls of the air. Do not riot with us; the wine. Do not take me to drunkenness, devour not me to disable thyself. Prqfice, do good to us and thyself. To us; feed the sheep which thou meanest to feed upon; meat thy horse, that he may perform thy journey. They are dumb, and cannot call for what they want; thou hast reason, provide for them. For thyself; profit by us ; let us not only please thine eye, but cherish thy body. Consider our virtues, to farther thee toward life eternal; feed on our substances, to help thy life temporal; that in both thou mayest acknowledge and bless our Maker. Let not the grain mould in thy gamers, nor the gold rust in thy coffers ; but projice, so use us, that thou mayest be the better for us. Parce, yet somewhat spare us ; do not play the tyrant with us, delight not in our torment; let our death satisfy thee, without a merciless vexation; do not satiate and gorge thy appetite with our groaning service. But as for thy sake we were made, so deal with us, that we may long do thee good. Do not spoil matrem cum filiis, destroy not our breed, but only take so much as may serve thy own turn. Vale, farewell; when thou hast thus rightly used us, and standest in no more need of us, death calling thee to a better place, farewell. Having dealt kindly with us on earth, may God deal mercifully with thee in heaven. Where thou shalt not need this sun, for God shall be thy light; nor this air to breathe thee, nor this earth to bear thee, nor bread nor wine to sustain thee, for Christ shaU be all in all unto thee.

The Fall of Man. —The nest part of the Creed concerns Jesus Christ, directing our faith how to beUeve in him. Wherein he is set forth as a Saviour, performing the great work of our redemption. But redemption presupposeth some precedent captivity. If man had stood, as we have considered him made, we had known the Son of God, but not as ' conceived of the Holy Ghost, bom of the Virgin Mary,' &c. Therefore, by order of conveniency, before we come to look upon our Redeemer, we are first to look upon our own need of a redeemer. Our lifting up grants that we were once down. For connection therefore of these two parts, our creation, whereby we were made, and our redemption, whereby we are repaired, betwixt both these, our apostasy hath a due place of meditation.

In our fall, there are four points especially considerable: the cause, the manner, the time, and the measure.

The cause is double. First, The efficient cause was Satan; for we must conceive no otherwise of the serpent than of his instrument. Moses did not indeed name the devil, but spake accordiug to the gross capacity of the people, who would understand nothing but visible things. So in the story of that apparition to Saul, that is called Samuel which was only his resemblance. There Satan in the shadow of Samuel, here Satan in the body of the serpent.

But why did Satan make choice of the serpent ? Answer, First, for subtilty, wherein his usefulness was no less than his Ukeness. He is subtile to recover his dimmed sight by the juice of fennel; to cast off his winter coat, subtile to stop his ears to charms, subtile to insidiate man, Gen. xlix. 17. Secondly, For aptness in carrying the business: the serpent was fit for insinuation, he could wind in and out and never be seen of Adam. Thirdly, Had he fi-amed a voice in the air, Eve would not hav4> granted so familiar a conference. Fourthly, Had he appeared in human

shape, there beinfj no more mankind but she and her husband, his imposture had been palpable.

But Eve knew that serpents could not speak, why then did she not mistrust ? Answer: She was sufficiently able to put a ditlercnce betwixt the faculty of beasts and power of angels ; but being transported with the fair promises, she did not so much mind uncle, from whence they came, as qitales, what they were. She was so rapt with an ambitious desire of bettering her estate, that she never intended whether it was a good or a bad angel. But why was she not afi-aid to talk with a seiijent ? Not because the sei-pcnt had a beauteous face, countenance like a virgin ; as you have heard of mermaids, vmjo j'ormosa mipcnic, which is not nature's action, but the poet's fiction. There is no such serpent, unless it be in a moral sense, a beautiful face with a seqieutine heart in a whore. But because, during the state of innocency, no creature was loathsome to man. Serpents and beasts had the same form and shape before, but not the same terribleness and nocent powers. Wicked atheists deride this story, yet beheve their poets, that a river saluted Pythagoras, an elm Apollonius, that Jupiter's bull did speak in Eliodcs, and Achilles's horse foretold his master's death. There is no doubt but that, by permission, Satan can possess a body, living or dead.

The other cause was the will of our parents, Eccles. vii. 29. Freedom of will is fourfold : libcrtas ad solum malum; adsohoiihonum; restricta, partim ad lonum; absoluta ad honum vcl malum. 1. Freedom to only e^^l, which is in reprobate men and angels; and is indeed more properly a thraldom than a freedom. 2. Freedom to only good, which is in God by nature, in the angels by gi-ace. 3. Freedom restrained, partly to good, but not without touching upon evil; this is in militant saiuts. 4. Freedom absolute to good or evil indifierently; this was in Adam. He had no inclination to sin, nor yet was he bound by any necessity from sin. God, in restraining one tree, declared that man had power either to take or forbear it.

For God, he was no ways any cause of it. He did not only make them righteous creatures, but also gave them righteous wills ; told them plainly what he would exact, and what they could perform. But why did he not prevent it ? Answer: He was not bound unto it, he permitted it for divers reasons. 1. To make the most excellent creatures sensible of their own infii-mity, how unable they are to stand without his supportation. 2. That there might be an occasion to exercise both his justice and mercy ; justice in punishing, mercv in saving. If in the world had been no miseiy, there had been no work for mercy, no need of Christ. If no sin, no matter for his justice to shew itself. 3. To will nothing but good, is a state reserved for heaven; to will nothing but evil, is a state reseiTcd for hell; to will good and evil, is a state disposed for earth. There is a double grace: one, to be able to will and do that is good; the other, to be able to persevere in willing and doing good. God gave Adam the former, not the other. Deditpossepctseverarc si vellet: non dedit telle jierseverare cum possit. 4. God owes no creature anything; beggars must be no choosers. We that are indebted to him for all that we are, cannot challenge more than he will give. He so governs all things he hath made, ut etiam proprios motus exercere sinat.--- 6. He might justly sufler this e\il, because he knew how to turn it into good. It was not prater voluntatem Dei, that were to make a lame providence; not contra voluntatem Dei, that were to make a weak omnipotence; but Jujcta voluntatem Dei, iu part he ordained it; not as it

* Aug

VOL. in. M

was a sin to ruin tlie creature, but as a way to exercise tlie justice and mercy of the Creator.

But if Adam did that which God willed, he did not sin. Answer: He did will the same matter, but not after the same manner, nor to the same end. Suppose an Israelite had wished the death of that persecuting tyrant Benhadad, and Hazael also wished it: the former, because he was a malicious enemy to God's church; the other, that he might get his kingdom. God and Adam willed this fall; but neither God with man's intent, nor man with God's intent, Adam's pui-pose was to be like God, God's to manifest his own glory. But God decreed it, therefore man could not EToid it. Answer: In respect of God's decree, it was necessary ; in respect of Adam's will, it was voluntary : the Creator's purpose did not take away the creature's freedom. But God's will is the cause of Adam's will, and Adam's Avill the cause of this fall, therefore God's will is the cause of this fall; for quod est causa causa, is causa causati? Answer: God's will is a moving cause of the wills of evil men, not as they are evil, but as they are wills. As a man makes a lame horse bear his burden : cor/it clauclum por-tare, non cor/it equum claudicare. God so inclines the evil will, that while he moves the will he is not entangled with the evil.

Who can now complain of God ? Not the devil, God did not cause him to deceive man. Not Adam and Eve, they fell by their own v/ills, without his instigation ; and this their own consciences did confess. Can the posterity of Adam ? No; reprobates justly suffer, and must acknowledge they have but their deserts. And for the elect, the}^ get more by the second Adam than they lost by the fii'st. ' 0 the depth,' &c., Rom. xi. 33.

The manner was by temptation; which was partly subtile, partly mah-cious, all devilish. Satan's malice was high and gi'eat: high, in that he meant this mischief at God himself, whose infinite majestj^ being out of his reach, he thought to spite him in ruining his workmanship; as the Romanists took their pleasure and revenge on Queen Elizabeth's picture, because they could not come at her person. Great; for despairing to save himself, he endeavoured to destroy all the world. Now, his fraud was not inferior to his malice, which will appear in twelve crafty circumstances.

1. For his vessel, a seipent, a thing so like him for craft, that it is stiU his emblem. Every sei'pent is (as it were), a young devil, and the devil is called an ' old serpent.'

2. For his insinuation to the place: who would look for a serpent in paradise ? Wliat wonder is it, if our corruption finds him in om- closet, among om- bags, in our beds with his unclean suggestions, on our boards among our many dishes and fall cups; whenas our parents, being holy, found him in paradise ?

8. For his use of the time. He is not sooner got in, than he falls to work. He lays hold on the first opportunity, knew it was no advantage to Black his design. A little forbearance might have improved man's experience, and so prevented his mischief. To think him idle, is as gross, as for the times of ignorance to call then- fairies and hobgoblins, harmless devils.

4. For his choice of the tree. There Avere many trees in paradise ; you find him about none but the forbidden. There was no danger in the rest; here grew the fi'uit of his hope. By no tree but this could they miscarry; upon none but this dwells his subtle expectation.

5. In his singling out the woman; who being the weaker in resistance, was the more malleable to his purpose; the fitter for him, both to work upon, and to work by. Though she had good helps, hohness and wisdom,

3'et lie outvied her, and she lost the game. He keeps his old trick still ; when be would peiTcrt a whole family to superstition, he teaches his Jesuit to begin with the woman. To witchcraft he brings more women than men ; therefore the Scripture names a witch in the feminine gender, Exod. xxii. 18. He sped so luckily with this plot in paradise, that he practised it upon Solomon and Samson ; he foiled the strongest, and fooled the wisest, by a woman.

6. For watching his opportunity; not only assaulting the woman, but abscnte vim, when the man was not by. Had Adam been present, he durst not have attempted it. It was in Uriah's absence, that he wrought Bath-eheba to folly. Let Ulysses be at home, Penelope's suitors vanish.

7. In his question, to move doubt. ' Yea, hath God said. Ye shall not eat of every tree ?' It is likely, that they had spent some time in conference, from which premises the serpent infers this conclusion, Niim dixit Dcus ? This is strange, that God should give you any such prohibition ? Not eat of every tree'? as if God had dealt hardly with them, in the abridgment of this liberty. If Satan can but get us to stand him, and hold him talk, he makes himself sure, and dischargeth as at a dead mai'k. ' Blessed is he that hath not stood in the way of sinners.'

8. In his reply, to work distrust. * Ye shall not die ;' never think that God hath any meaning to kill you for so slight a matter. To doubt of the commandment, is the way to expose ourselves to the transgression. Usury, and monopoly, and monomachy, had never been known, but by hearsay; had not men stood to tallc with Satan, and to hear his reasons and arguments, what he could say for such horid sins. Hence it came to be put to those two unhappy referees, the devil's wit and man's will.

9. In his protestation of safety, and promise of glory. ' Ye shall be as gods;' stent, for quality, not for equality; so far from mortal creatures, that you shall be immortal powers. But whether is the devil more subtle to promise, or man more simple to believe, that there may be safety in sin? Safer is a vessel on the sea without mast or stern, or a blind cripple in a house on fire. He that bids us look to speed well in doing ill, promiseth us good luck in breaking our necks.

10. In his suggestion to envy and discontent. Why one tree? Sure, he gi-udgeth you that fi'uit, as if he kept it for his own tooth. AVhy this tree ? sm-e there is some more dehght and goodness in this tree than in all the rest. How many thus lose the comfort of their own estate, by envying the bettemess of another's ? How foolish is he, that wiU fast from his own wholesome supper, because his neighbour hath better cheer ? Lord, rather give me a contented want, than a discontented abundance.

11. By his flattering them with the increase of knowledge and honour. * Ye shall know good and e%-il.' Now they knew nothing but good ; and what gets a man by the knowledge of e-\-il ? 'Who being in health, would make himself sick, to know what sickness is ; yea, rather kill himself, that he might get experience of death ? And for honour, what a put!" do ambitious men, hke boys about a bubble, catch at ? AMiat if my name be despised on earth, so long as it is written in heaven ? This were as when the sun sends forth his glorious beams, to cry for the putting out of a candle. Yet how easily doth honour and knowledge, the knowledge of honour, the honour of knowledge, transport the sons of corrupted nature ! A cunning dev'il! that sends a man to seek for light in a vault, his own glory in the dishonour of his Maker.

12. In his ambiguity of speech; every word being capable of a double

construction ; as lie used afterwards to deliver his oracles. * Ye shall not die,' that is, not presently the death of the body, yet presently be made mortal. ' Your eyes shall be opened ;' so they were, to see their confusion. ' Ye shall know good and evil;' so they did, not by a bettered knowledge, but by a miserable experience. * Ye shall be as gods ;' either as good angels, or as apostate devils. Thus his words have an ambagious meaning; that howsoever it should happen, he might keep his credit, by expounding it according to the event. So if he failed now, he might hope to prevail another time. 'Now when the woman saw that the tree was good for food,' Gen. iii. 6 ; there is the voluptuousness of her desire ; ' and pleasant to the eyes,' there is the curiosity of her sight; and ' would make one wise,' there is the vanity of her mind. Proportionable to the Apostle's description of the world ; ' the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life,' 1 John ii. 16. We sin according to the pattern of om* mother; see, like, take, die; and so infect others, as Eve having eaten, gave her husband. Had she stayed her hand with her own fall (as he that ignorantly drank to his friend in a cup of poison, but once perceiving it, threw away the cup, admitting no pledge), Satan had been prevented, we preserved, the root of mankind being uncorrupted. But such was her unhappiness, to invite man to this ciirsed banquet; so they both did eat, and set all their posterity's teeth on edge.

Observation 1. If we had been by, and seen Adam, in hoc articulo posi-tum, in a strait, betwixt the persuasion of his wife, and the precept of his Maker ; how would we have cried out to him, Take heed, the apple is fair, but the core will choke thee; the woman of thy love is the instrument of thy bane. Yet when it comes to our own turns, our memory forgets, and our conscience forbears, to give us this caution. Tarn ininime cautum est, d quo miserrime casum est.-'< Consider thy soul in Adam's stead, concupiscence is like Eve, thy wife ; Satan is still himself, his bait is the forbidden fruit. He opens his pedlar's pack, bids concupiscence like and take; reason is hitherto absent, the wife is won, concupiscence woos reason ; if she can prevail, Satan laughs to see them both perish together. ' How long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thee ?' Jer. iv. 14. 0 corrupt man, God doth not blame us so much that these thoughts come, but that they are sufiered to tarry. They may knock at our door, we may choose whether we will let them in. Their intrusion is not, their entertainment is,- our fault. Think betwixt the cup and the Up ; this draught of gain or lust is deadly. Though Eve be taken, save Adam. Let not Lot look back for his wife, though she perish.

Obs. 2. Satan still works by his factors ; he would be too abhorred in his own shape, therefore comes in like concealed ware, and the more plausible his artillery, the more terrible his battery. Poison goes the more unsus-pectedly dowTi in a pleasing goblet. The devil presumes, like the Philistines, that Samson will deny Delilah nothing. Mischievous politicians have got this trick of their father, to use other instruments in all dangerous designs ; as the monkey took the sleeping cat's foot to rake the chestnuts out of the fii-e. The actors shall be upon the stage, but the poet is close behind the curtains. What vessel soever bears the evil motion, wife or friend, let us suspect Satan in it, as David did his captain, ' Is not the hand of Joab in this ? ' 1 Sam. xiv. 19. The devil hath a hand in it, as he brought upon Adam, per amorem uxoris, amarorem mortis. So easy it ^vill be for him that will be uxorious to his wife to be injurious to his God.

® Beru.

Ohs. 3. Satan flatters them with benefits and glorious shows : they shall be wise, they shall be as gods, wise as gods ; but not a word of death, or confusion, or deserved society of devils. When he tempted Judas to that unnatural treason, he shewed him the silver, not the halter. When ho sent Gehazi after Naaman, he suggested unto him the garments, and the money, not the leprosy. He shewed Christ on the mountain, * all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them,' Matt. iv. 8; ho presented him with the glory, not with the vanity: while he magnifies the pomp, he hid the vexation. If there bo any pleasure, majesty, bravery in the world, where should wo find it but in the courts of princes ? There be the rich jewels, embroidered robes, sumptuQus feasts, glorious triumphs, refulgent beauties, honourable attendance, royal state; and these he lays forth to the fairest show. With the inconveniences he meddles not, unless it be with their concealment. Full many a care attends on greatness, sovereignty is full of jealousy; he fears most, who is most feared, Christ's crown was all thorns, no crown is without some thorns. The highest seats are ever uneasy. Those innumerable discontents, which are like shadows to sublime places, Satan hides out of the way; nothing is left visible, but what may allure.

When ho assaults any poor soul, he sufiers nothing to appear to the eye but pleasure, profit, a sweet satisfaction of our desires, and a phantasma of happiness. There is also wi-ath, and judgment, and torment, and sting of conscience belonging to it; these must be, but these shall not be seen. All the way is white snow, that hides the pit. Green gi-ass tempts us to walk; the serpent is unseen. If temptations, like plaises, might be turned on both sides, the kingdom of darkness would not be so populous. K David could have foreseen the giief of his broken bones ere he fell upon Bathsheba, those aspersions of blood and lust had not befallen him. If Achan could have foreseen the stones about his ears before he filched those accursed things, he would never have fingered them. But as it is said of Adam and Eve after their fall, Tunc sunt aperti ocuU eonnn, ' Then their eyes were opened;' then, not before. Judas was blind till he had done the deed, then his eyes were opened, and he saw it in its true horror.

Sins are light in the common balance of flesh and blood, but bring them to ' the measure of the sanctuary.' Adulterous acts are unla'W'ful, e.v con-fc'sso; but of wanton looks men make no reckoning, yet they weigh in the judge's balance as heavy as condemnation. Matt. v. 28. The smallest atom is seen in the sun, which we think nothing in the dark. The coral, so long as it is under water, is white ; being got above the water, it waxcth hard and red. Our sinful works in their own element, seem soft, and fi^ir, and harmless ; being brought into the open air, they appear red and bloody. Lines may be so ■WTitten with the juice of a lemon that no man can read them ; heat the paper against the tire, you read them easily. The characters of our flagitious lives are so kept from us that we read no ill: let us bring them to the fiery trial, this shall make all our works and words, yea the secrets of our hearts, legible. Sorrows and woes are reserved for the fiirewell of sin; that they may bo both seen and felt at once. When we are once sure, Satan is a tyrant; till then, he is a parasite. If we desire to be safe, let us view the back, as well as the face, of temptations. This good use let us make of our gi-andmother's ill, that wo deceive Satan of that trick whereby ho deceived her. When he invites us to view the glorious beginning of sin, let us look first to the ending, and so prevent him.

The thii-d circumstance is the time, and I will not spend much time

about it. Some would have Adam to continue in paradise about three and thirty years, because Christ lived so long upon the earth ; some, forty days, that there might be a correspondence between the intemperancy and the remedy. The first Adam sinned in eating, and the second Adam fasted forty days for it. Others hold that he fell the next day after his creation, upon the day of rest. But it is not hkely that upon a day of joy God would execute a work of soitow, nor curse in that which he had blessed. Others say upon the eighth day, that day sevennight after his makmg ; as the eighth day was ordained for circumcision, that the father's apostasy and the children's recovery might be answerable for the time. But the most received opinion is according to Saint Augustine : that they fell on the very day of their making. Moses having set down the creation, without interposition of anything, comes immediately to the fall.

For reason to confirm this opinion. 1. Satan fell presently after his making; non stetit in veritate, ' he abode not in the trath,' John viii. 44. He scarce tasted the sweetness of an angelical life, but as soon as he had it, he lost it; so it is likely of man. 2. Christ calls the devil a ' mm-derer from the beginning.' This could not be fi'om the beginning of the world, or of time, then he had none to kill, it must be from the beginning of man ; therefore in man's beginning Satan did set upon him. 3. His implacable malice would edge and urge him to lay hold on the first occasion, and his subtilty would admit no delay, lest man's experience should have confirmed him in obedience, and enabled him to persist; therefore that very day. 4. Adam had not j'et tasted of any fruit; it is clear, not of the tree of life. Gen. iii. 22 ; and with that he was most hkely to begin. This appears both by Satan's onset, and the woman's answer, * We may eat;' may, have not yet. Now they would not have stayed long without eating; therefore, that very day, 5. Presently after their making they were bidden to increase and multiply, so that if they had tarried there long Adam, in obedience to the commandment, must have known Eve, and so they should have gotten children without sin; for it is an erring ignorance to think they were not made fit for procreation and of apt disposition. 6. Never any man on earth kept the Sabbath without sin but Christ. That is caUed the ' rest of Christ,' Heb. iv. 10, that enjoyeth a cessation from all the works of sin. Therefore he fell before the Sabbath, and that must be the very day. 7. Wliat became of lions and such creatures, whose natural sustenance is flesh? They did not feed upon grass, and to say they did eat flesh is absurd, for there was no death before the fall; so that, if Adam had stayed long in paradise, their fast must have been tedious and above nature. 8. The psalm says, ' Adam abode not in honour,' Ps. xlix. 12, he lodged not one night in honour. So some read it. Lun, signifying to stay all night. If he did not continue in paradise one night, he fell on the day of his creation.

But how could so much business, as the aggregation of the creatures, their nomination by Adam, Eve's temptation by the serpent, the man's seduction by the woman, God's conviction and cm-se of them all, be despatched in so few hours ? Answer : 1. The imposition of names was performed by Adam ere Eve was made; and this he could do at first sight, without trial of their natures, by reason of his singular wisdom. 2. Such is the celerity and subtilty of spirits, that Satan was nimble enough to play off his part in a very short space. 3. It was in the ' cool of the day,' about eventide, when God gave the sentence. Thus in the scope of eight or nine hours all these passages might be accomphshed. But what is all this to

US, to Icnow when he fell, so long as wo feel too sensibly that ho is fallen ? Yes, this point is not barren of use, it tcacheth us two things.

Consideration 1. The fickleness of all temporal things. If innoccncy itself could not keep this world, no, not one whole day, how brittle hath corruption made it since ! If our righteous father could not preserve himself without sin twelve hours, how vainly presumptuous are we, his infected children, to be confident of our standing! No man but he that is God and man, ever stood without falling. And in him, we are so much more happy than Adam was, that we shall not fall into perdition; but this we havo common with him, and from him, that we cannot but fall into transgi-ession. In saying the liord's Prayer, he that prays, ' Lead us not into temptation,' confesseth that he may fall; he that prays, ' Forgive us our trespasses,' confesseth that he had fallen. Both which lead us to a penitent contrition for what we have done amiss, and to a careful circumspection about what we do ; that we stand upon our guard, and watch the blow, to defend ourselves. Thou hast done well; be not too sure; trust not thy own legs ; ' let him that thinks he standcth, take heed lest he foil;' Paul himself hath his buffets, 2 Cor. xii. 7 ; the bladder that is full of wind nmst have a prick to let it out. ' I sent to know your laith, lest by some means the tempter hath tempted you,' 1 Thess. iii. 5. They were his hope, his joy, his crown, yet they might be tempted. Light the taper at the fii-e of the sanctuary, and leave it burning clear, yet there is a thief to waste it; yea, it is ready to dim itself, if there be not snufl'ers to keep it bright.

If spiritual things may thus be forfeited, what assurance is there of temporals ? No mere man ever stood so high as Adam; this earth is now divided among many kings, which was all his alone. Their lands bring them no increase without industry, his yielded fruits naturally. The whole earth his field and orchard, paradise was his private garden. They often command and go without; all things obeyed Adam. Storms and thunders, serpents and flies, stand in fear of no prince; none of these durst or could injure Adam. His glory was gi-eat, greater his safety, his command greatest of all; yet this potent, safe, happy king lost all in a moment. 0 then what constancy can be expected from the world ? AU these were in his hands, like an estate in the true owner's; we are all naturally usui-pers, and cannot challenge one foot in our own right; shall the thief be secure when the true man was not ? What land is so entailed to posterity, but the dying possessor may not give it this farewell and inscription; nwic mea, nunc hiijus, sed postea nescio aijiis ? 0 happy man, who neither loves the world, nor the world him; both being dead, either to other! D urn alter altitnim non appctit, quasi mortuus mortuum noti aUendil.

Abraham and Job, and many other saints, have been rich and potent; yet while the world flourished about them, it did not flourish within them ; it smiled on them, they did not smile on it. Now, it is decrepit in itself, yet lusty in us ; withered in its own parts, yet it grows gi-een in our affections. It wooed them, and they scorned it; it frowns on us, and yet we woo it. It was to them, as the Jebusites to Israel, a dinidge ; we subject ourselves to it, as Israel did to the Egyptians. It proflered them sernce, and might not be entertained ; we proffer it ourselves, and request it to entertain us. They could not be caught with its sweetness, we doat upon the bitterness of it. Scquiniur fuf/ieiitcm, qucin illi sprcrenint scqurntem. But while we lean upon that which is falling, shall we not fall with it ? Lo, Adam could not hold it, while it was good, while he was good, all was good; now being grov.n stark naught, if we tinist it, we ai'e worse than it.

Consideration 2. The cunning of that adversary, -whom it is hard to elude, impossible to avoid. It is now since Adam's fall above five thousand years; the de\'il lost none of his time ; he that would not forbear innocency one day, will assault corruption every hour. He could not augment his malice, he hath improved his experience. If he were so crafty then, what a cunning devil he is now ! Et illefortior ad 2nignanclum, et tu dehilior ad repugnan-dum. If, as Samson lost his strength with his lock, that angel had lost his wisdom with his goodness, we were safer in the wide world, than Adam was in his impaled paradise. But he still remains an angel, though a mischievous one; and we are men, not half so wise as our father. Lord, let it not be presumption in us to beg, that thou wouldst make us wiser than Adam ; that all the tricks of Satan may never cozen us of our grace and portion in Jesus Christ.

Yea, let its be as far from security, as he is from ignorance or charity. Ille nan cessat discere tentando, nos discamus nan cessare cavendo. Give a serpent a wound, he will turn again; every good deed gives that old serpent a wound; let us look for his malice, be sure he will tm'n again. He is ever busy, but worst at last, discharging his shot thickest when it is almost night; recompensing hrevitatem temporis, gravitate tentationis. He strikes continually, but his first and last blows are most dangerous. He assaulted Adam so soon as he came into the world, most furiously he sets upon all the children of Adam when they are going out of the world. Look well to the conclusion ; for as the tree is loaden, so it bends ; and as it bends, so it grows : and as it grows, so it falls ; and as it falls, so it lies ; and as it lies, so is it found at the last day; and as it is found at the last day, so it must continue for ever.

TJie Measure. —Some sensual men have extenuated Adam's sin ; alas ! it was but eating an apple. Wherein they do implicitly and by consequence tax God of injustice, to lay so heavy a punishment on him for so slight a fault. What, condemn a whole world for so small a matter? Be not deceived, we shall prove it by evidence, as we find it by experience, to be a grievous rebellion ; not one single sin, but many in one; as Leah said of Gad, 'Here comes a company;' simplexp)omwn, multiplex pieccatum. The quantity of a sin must not be measured by the object, about which it is conversant, but by the commandment which prohibits it. It was not the fruit eaten, but the law broken, that made him guilty. He that will truly value his sin, must not so much look to the thing done upon earth, as to the majesty ofi'ended in heaven. ' Against thee, 0 Lord, against thee, have I sinned,' Ps. li. 4. David had sinned against Uriah, his subject; but he looks up to God, his sovereign. Here, non tot grana in porno, quot mala in peccato. In one fact we find ten several sins.

(1.) Incredulity. They did not believe God's word to be true : he says. *Eat and die;' they hope to eat and not die. Howsoever other sins speed, unbelief is sure to smart. He deserves no mercy of God, that will not take his word. This indignity we still ofi"er him, inore paterno; still doth the want of faith shut men out of paradise.

(2.) Blasphemy, in giving credit to the devil, more than to God. His moriemini they doubt; Satan's non moriemini they believe. Let the devil charge the God of truth with falsehood, the God of love with envy ; yet to this they subscribe. Is it a small sin to reproach their Maker ?

(3.) Curiosity, in afiecting greater wisdom than the God of wisdom saw fit for them. Satan flatters them with some strange operation in this fruit: this they long to find: to their own woe they found it. What great evils

rise from small beginnings! It is probable that curiosity turned Lot's wife into a pillar of salt; she would but see forbidden Sodom, and sped worso than Sodom. That curiosity sent home Dinah deflowered ; she would but see the virgins of the land, and left her o^\^l virginity behind her. Her idle ciu'iosity bred all that mischief; upon this she wanders abroad, u])on her wandering follows ravisliment, upon the ravishment murder, upon the murder spoil. It is holy and safe to be jealous of the first occasions of evil. Curious Lot's wife lost herself, curious Dinah lost a city, curious Helena lost a kingdom, curious Evo lost all the world.

(4.) Wantonness, in sinning without need. All the trees in the garden were at their service ; all pleasant and allowed, only one pleasant and forbidden. She slights that she might have ; and for that she might not have, she bequeathed this legacy to all her children, that they should naturally desire what they may not lawfully possess.

(5.) Pride and ambition to be no worse than their maker. If all failed, Satan hoped this would do it. Had his bait been beauty. Eve was fair and amiable ; certainly the most beautiful woman that ever the world had, or shall have; none but a glorified body in heaven can excel hers, and in enjoying her, Adam had, with pleasure, without offence, enjoyed himself. Had it been delight, he knew that ho wanted none which earth could yield him, while he had a heaven within him. Had it been gold, why all was his o\vn already, and how basely would he have esteemed the most shining metals who had no use of coin, no fear of want! If all Adam's sons knew the little worth of gold as well as he did, the devil would never have turned digger, for all his mines could not have won one piece of a soul. It was then a proud desire of bettering his condition ; what but this could turn man out of paradise, angels out of heaven, and tumble so many millions to hell!

(6.) Unthankfulness. Had not God done enough for them ? created them after his o^vn image, estated them in the monarchy of the world, furnished them with a pleasant habitation, paradise, the seat royal of the whole earth, set sen-iceable creatures to attend them, pleasure itself to delight them, perfect knowledge to accomplish their blessedness ? Yet as if all this were not worth thanks, they must be something that God would not have them, or have something that God would not grant them. He had studied to make them happy, and now they study to make themselves miserable. They must know more than they did, as if God did not know that they knew enough. Still do we inherit this saucy appetite of our grandmother; we can never rest satisfied with the portion which God hath carved us. Wanton children never speed worse than when they have things of their own choosing. How well doth he deserve to lose all he hath, that repines for one thing he hath not ? When Eve had all the world and the innumerable delights in it, j'et she would hazard all for one apple. This was the amphfication of David's fault by the prophet, contemning the variety of his own wives for the forbidden one of his subject, 2 Sam. xiii. How doth our ingi-atitude overlook the many blessings of God in discontent for one ! Thus I have seen a sullen guest at a well furnished table, because he is prevented of one dish that he hath a mind to, keep a melancholy fast and eat never a bit.

(7.) Presumption : they made themselves confident of God's mercy, that though they did what he forbade them, yet he would not do as he threatened them. As if he prized them above his o-mi honour, and would break his word to spare them that broke his law. So the evil man flatters himself; God will be gracious though I be ungracious. ' The judgments of

G-od are far above out of his sight,' Ps. x. 5. Out of his sight; as an eagle at her highest towering so lessens herself to view, that he sees not the talons, nor fears the grip. Thus man presumes till he hath sinned, and then despairs as fast afterwards. At first, ' Tush, doth God see it ?' At last, ' Alas, will God forgive it ?' But if a man will not know his sins, his sins will know him ; the eyes which presumption shuts, commonly despair opens. Cain, that fears not to kill his brother, fears that every passenger will kill him. Israel calls for the flesh-pots of Egypt, but they forget the smart, the seasoning of the pot, the whips, the strav\^, the bricks, the servitude, children haled from their mothers' breasts. The bitterness of sin is alv/ays concealed to the last; that morsel, after the banquet, is left to close up their stomachs. Satan is a dumb devil while the mischief is a doing, but a roaring devil when it is done. During the merriment of sin, he is altogether against conscience, and stops her mouth; but in the sorrowful sense of it, he takes her part and extends her voice. While the debtor trades and is busy in the world, the creditor lets him alone; but if he once break, then action upon action. Let Eve teach us how great a madness it is to complain too late. Had she foreseen how by that act she should lose the comfort she had, endm'e a torment beyond her thought, bereave her husband of happiness, make her posterity miserable, and bring a curse upon the whole world; the fruit had hung still on the tree, and the Son of God not been put to hang on the tree of death for it.

(8.) Murder, causing the death of all those that were to take life from them. She that was made the ' mother of the li^dng,' became, by that act, the mother of the dying. Had she eaten alone, it is likely she had died alone; but when she gave to her husband, she Idlled us all. Therefore, that Adam might see he had begot a son in his own image, their first-bom child was a murderer. Adam slew his posterity, Cain slew his brother. The same devil that did set enmity betwixt God and man sets enmity betwixt man and man; and the same cause that moved Satan to tempt the first man to destroy himself and his posterity, moves also the second man to destroy the third. I do not doubt but though Adam could not be innocent in paradise, yet he was a good man out of paradise; his fall had made him wary, so that his children's education was holy. Seeing he had bereaved them of that image of God which he had for them, he would labour, by all good endeavours, to repair it in them, that so his care might make some amends for his trespass. ' But who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?' Job xiv. 4. That which is crooked can none make straight. To make his children guilty, this he had done easily; he found it impossible to make them all holy. There is no breeding can alter destiny. We are aU too like one another in that wherein we are unlike to God. Fan the grain from the chaff, make it never so clear when you sow it, yet you shaU find chaff when you reap it. Goodness may be repahed in ourselves, it camiot be propagated to ours. That Adam was an elect saint there is no question; he had two elder sons, perhaps twins, yet how contrary are their estates, their dispositions. Had nature any remaming privilege, the firstborn child of the world had not been a reprobate. Now, the elder was a murderer, the younger a saint. The elder had his impiety from natm-e, the younger his sanctity from the free grace of God. Our hatred of the sei-pent and his seed is from God; then- hatred of the holy seed is from the sei-pent, Gen. iii. 15. In one and the same person are both the seeds of the woman and serpent. Cain's natm-al parts are of the woman, his vicious qualities are of the serpent. The woman gave him to be a brother; the serpent, to be a

firatricide. Yet here is the comfort, the father shall not answer for the son; he is never the further from heaven, though he cannot bring his children along with him. As the better cannot carry up the worse to heaven, so neither shall the worse pull down the better to hell.

(9.) The easiness of the commandment makes the transgi'ession more heinous. You say it was but for eating an apple that ho was condemned; and I say it was but eating an apple that was forbidden. Will you blame God for punishing him for so little, and not blame him for ofl'ending in so little? The easier the precept, the easier was the obedience. As the Syrians said to their master, ' What if the prophet had bid thee do some great thing'?' 1 Kings v. 13. What if the Lord had commanded him some great matter? Say he had charged him to fast forty days, and that in pai-adise, as the second Adam did in the wilderness ? Had he begotten a son in innocency, and been charged to offer him up in sacrilicc, as Abraham was tried? Had he been bound to abstain from his beauteous spouse, to till the earth for his bread, or plant trees for his fruit ? Here had been gi'cater difticulty of obeying, but no toleration of sinning. But when it was only an apple, the fruit of a tree, of one tree, of one among such variety, and such variety of as fair and allowed fr'uits, certainly quo facilius 2'>ra;ceptum, eh granus i^eccatum, the more easy the command the more heinous the disobedience. He that will not do a little for God, is there any hope he will do much ? He that will not part with his sin will more hardly part with his son at his Maker's bidding. He that grudgeth a cup of cold water will more stick at a cup of wann blood for Christ. Peccare in mininio, jjec-catuvi non viinimum. Saint Augustine =;= brings in Eve thus disputing of the tree. Si bona est, quare non tmnjo? Si mala est, quate in jJciradiso? If it be good, why is it forbidden ? if it be bad, what doth it in paradise ? It is in paradise because it is good; but thou must not touch it, because thou must be obedient. Let this example teach us to be careful of small precepts. ' Well done, good servant; thou hast been faithful in a little,' Luke xix. 17. Fidelis in modico. But this seems to be a little commendation, to be faithful in a little? Indeed, if we place modicum in Jidelitate, httle in faithfulness, it is a diminution; but JideUtas in modico, faithfulness in a little, is a commendation. He that cannot nile a little boat must not bo trusted with a great vessel.

(10.) The main of all was disobedience, or transgression of the law of God; and so we have ten sins bound up in one fact, as the ten commandments ai-e summed up in one word, love. Yea, this very single offence was the breach of the whole law. And as from the mass of heaven and earth, that seed of all creatures, innumerable kinds were foimed, so from this one sin, the seed of all evil, what a multitude of sins have been derived. The sins of one man are beyond all numeration; how infinite are the sins.of all the world!

Question 1. ^Vhat was the first sin in the world ? The Romish stream is altogether for pride, because Satan said, ' Ye shall be as gods.' That they were tickled with pride by the temptation, and so were suffered to fall.f But this takes away the difference betwixt the sin of man and of the angels. These fell by their own pride immediately, man by temptation unto pride. There was some fault in man before pride, none before it in the apostate spirits. The devil fell without a seducer, man not but by his seduction. Therefore man found mercy, they reap nothing but judgment. Man is restored by a Saviom*, they must perish for ever. Man, quantd fragilior in natura, tantb facilior ad vcniam.%

*• In Ps. Ixx. f rrospor. t Aug.

But we find that Satan's drift was to make man doubt the truth of the commandment and punishment. Therefore his first deceit was fidem re-movens. ' Ye shall not die.' He warrants them against all danger before he allures them with hope of honour. Therefore the first sin of the world appears to be infidelity.' For if man had constantly believed what God directly threatened, the devil had lost his labour. Pride followed upon infidelity, not infidelity upon pride. Here let us take notice that unbelief was the first sin of the Avorld, and unbelief is the worst sin of the world. At first it lost all men, and still it loseth the greater part of men—pagans, infidels, heretics, and not a few of them that be called Christians, John xvi. 9. Will God break his word to save thee, thou unbeliever, who will not break it to save a world ? Kather than it, ' heaven and earth shall pass.' And dost thou hope to escape ? There is not a soul now in hell but con-fesseth itself damned for unbelief. Num. xxiii. 19.

Question 2. Whether Adam lost his faith, and so was damned for his sin ? We say, against our adversaries, that our first parents lost not their faith in their fall. (1.) Though in that one act of faith they failed, it follows not that their faith was utterly extinguished. He that is seduced in one article or point of faith, is he presently stripped of all faith ? Because a man stumbles, hath he no feet ? (2.) Peter denied his master; yet he could not in his judgment so soon cast off" all opinion of Christ. Fear prevailed, his faith perished not. (3.) It was no formal infidelity, which is wilfully to reject God's word; but only they were materially deceived; their sudden and violent affection overshadowing their judgment, like a thick cloud before the sun. (4.) If the life of faith should be extinct by every act of sin, spiritual life were more mortal than the coi-poral, and the sanctity of grace wei'e no better than the morality of nature. God's promise is a stronger foundation than for every blast of wind to blow down. (5.) There was remorse of conscience in them, and a shame for their offence. Now, repentance is an effect of faith.

Adam, therefore, was not a reprobate. For, first, the promise of the Messiah was given him immediately after his transgression; therefore his interest was in him. Secondly, the fii'st Adam was a figm'e of the second; but no man ordained by God to be a figure of his Son was a reprobate. Thirdly, he is called the Son of God, therefore he was not the son of death. Fourthly,{h.exQ is no likelihood that the root of all mankind should perish, or that God would damn the first image of himself that ever he made on earth. Hilary acknowledgeth Adam confessum, et Venice reservatum. Of the same sentence are Irenseus, Epiphanius, Ambrose, Augustine, and Ter-tuUian, who saith, that as he was cast out of the earthly paradise for trans-gi'ession, so he was admitted into the heavenly paradise by confession. ' Wisdom preserved the first-formed father of the world, and brought him out of his fall,' Wisd. x. 1. Oh the infinite extent of Christ's merits! How should not his blood save souls to the end of the world, that saved the first soul in the beginning ? It cannot be of less value or virtue, being exhibited, than when it was only promised.

Question 3. Whether was Adam's sin the greatest sin of the world or no ? We have considered it very great; but Bellarmine says it was the greatest of all. (1.) Propter facilitatem ohedientia, he had sufficient grace to keep the law. (2.) Propter simplicitatem prcecepti, he had but one commandment. We that have less power of obedience have a gi-eat number of commandments—ten for one. We have ten times as much to observe as he, and he had ten times more abihty than we. (3.) For ingratitude. Who

had received so much good to so Httlc purpose. (4.) For propagation, his sin redounding to the hurt of all tho world. These reasons make it great, but not the greatest sin.

We must distinguish of sins, they be personal or general. Personal sins be peculiar to the individual sinner, and only make him guilty. General sins be common to all men. Cain's murder was a great sin, but personal. It did not make his posterity guilty, because he never was appointed to be the root of his posterity. But Adam's was not a sin of his own person only, but of the human nature, he being the root or head, bearing in him all mankind. He sinned for us, and we all sinned in him. * By one man sin entered upon all,' Rom. v. Nor can we say this of all Adam's sins, but only of his first.* If we consider the condition of his person, and the perfection of his state, especially the universal extent and bane of all mankind by it, so it was the greatest sin. But simply in itself considered, many children of Adam have gone far beyond their father. Cain's fratricide, killing one better than himself, for no other reason but because he was better than himself; Pharaoh's tyranny; Saul's partiality; Judas's treachery: all these were worse than Adam's apostasy. Thus it was not the greatest, ratione vel genere 2'>eccati. So we hold blasphemy and idolatry to be greater sins. Nor in regard 'of the sinner's affection; for many are carried with a more violent and ungodly desire than Adam was in this temptation. Nor for the quality of the sin, for it was venial to him; whereas if it had been the greatest sin, it never had been pardoned; and the sins of reprobates are punished with everlasting fire. Which of us can deny that he hath done greater iniquity ? which of us ought not to repent with gi-eater fervency ?

Question 4. Whether was Adam's sin or Eve's the greater? St Ambrose doth aggi-avate the man's ; f Chrysostom and Augustine the woman's. Let us hear them both.

First, for the man's sin. (1.) An evil angel deceived the woman, but the woman deceived Adam. In so much as he had a weaker tempter, he was the gi-eater sinner. Answer: But the same sci-pent tempted them both. Eve was set upon single, Adam by a couple of tempters ; his, therefore, was tho stronger temptation. Besides, the woman was dear to him, and it is no hard matter to be deceived by a known and beloved fi'iend. (2.) The vroman did not hear the precept from God's o^vn mouth, as did Adam ; therefore he is the gi'eater offender. Answer: The sei-pent urgeth this charge to the woman, * Yea, hath God said ?' therefore it appears that she also heard the precept. (3.) The man is first rebuked. Answer: But the woman is fii'st punished. (4.) Tho woman accuseth but the serpent, Adam did unkindly to accuse the woman. Answer: She could not accuse Adam ; he might well accuse her as the means of his fall. (5.) The woman in her punishment findeth mercy. Though she should bring forth ' in sorrow,'yet she should be 'saved by her fruit,'which was matter of joy. Answer : The man hath as great a share in that blessing as the woman; and the saving seed was promised before her punishment was inflicted.

It is concluded, then, that the woman was in greatest fault; | not because she only presumptuously affected the di%'ine equality, for of this also the man was guilty. That derision of his ambition, * See, the man is become as one of us,' had not been given him, had he not heard and credited the false persuasion of Satan, ' Ye shall be as gods.' But, First, Adam sinned only in doing the forbidden act. Eve not only admitted it in herself, but * Aquin. Lombard. t Ambr. Institut. Virgin., cap. 4. % Lombard.

also tempted the man ; and liad now learned so mucli of the devil, as to do his office. Not that she gave it him on pui-pose, lest, if she died, he might have taken him another wife, as the Hebrews dream, for she was the only woman in the world ; but because she was desirous to make him partaker of her supposed happiness. Secondly, Vir peccavit in se taiilitm, et Ui Deiim; mulier in se, Deum, et vutritujn.-'^ Adam only harmed himself, she WTonged both herself and her husband. Thirdly, The greatness of the sin is comparatively seen by the punishment; but the woman was more punished, therefore she more ofiended. Over and above man's penalty, she hath an addition of sorrow in travail. This the order of their punishment demonstrates. First, the serpent is cursed, as the first seducer; next, the woman, as being in the second degi-ee of oflence; the man is reserved to the last and least punishment. Fifthly, The plain Scripture a^-ers it: ' The man v/as not deceived, but the woman was deceived, and was in the transgression,' 1 Tim. ii. 14. Not that Adam was not deceived at all; but, first, he was not first deceived ; the woman sinned before him. Secondly, Not immediately deceived ; Satan had tempted her to tempt him. Thirdly, He was not so deceived, as to become the author of seducement to others. He sinned either scienter, wittingly ; or pei- errorem incogitationis, not by ignorance, but through want of confidence. Aaron sinned against his judgment in making the calf, and Solomon, in giving a toleration for idolatry : their sin was greater than Adam's. Fourthly, Eve's sin is so amplified, as if the man's fault, compared with hers, were scarce counted a transgression. Viro imilier, non mnlieri vir, author erroris.\ So easy is it for a man to be seduced, quadam amiculai benevolentia,l by her that lies in his bosom.

This, then, be the conclusion, resolved by Thomas.§ The sin of Adam was greater, equal, less than the woman's, in difierent respects. First, greater, in regard of the perfection of his person; his dignity being more, so was his iniquity. Adam phis p)eccavit, quia omni bono ahundaiit. He had the more excellent graces, and greater strength to resist. Secondly, equal, quantinn ad genus pieccati, both fell in one thing ; the same infideUty, in not belie\'ing God more than the sei-pent; the same concupiscence, in coveting fi-uit forbidden; the same ambition, in desiring a better state of perfection : these were alike in them both. Thirdly, less, quantum ad speciem siqierbia;; in the woman was a greater pride, and her sin was tempered with a greater measure of unbelief and ambition. Adam gave credit to Eve, but Eve to the serpent. He was inductus, she inducta, et inducens. Therefore, the woman's was the greater sin. This doth not hold still, that the daughters of Eve be greater sinners than the sons of Adam. The woman then tempted the man, now commonly the man tempts the vvoman. But where that sex takes to be evil, it is exceeding evil. Many men had one de^dl a-piece, one woman had seven devils. Wickedness in them doth not so easily take, as fire is long before it be incorporate with ii'on ; but when once it does, it is hardly driven out. But I will no longer compare them; both are bad enough; the Lord have mercy upon us all!

App)lication 1. To make some good use of this evil, is to take notice of our own frailty. Adam fell, fell in his innocency, fell from his iunocency, fell with his knowledge, fell by one temptation. We are not innocent, but guilty in him. That guilt proclives us to any impiety. Our knowledge is clouded, many temptations besiege us, and we have less power to hold out. How ready must we be to fall, how unable to stand ! Si Adam in paradiso, * Aug. t Chrys. } Ambr. § Summ. II. 2, qu. 1G3, art. 4.

quid nos in sterquilinio? 0, the wretched security of the world ! Fateor patre))i deception, non sentio me decipiendimi.-'' Against the stream of the world, a man is made ex deleriore melior, of worse better; but with the full torrent ex mcliore delerior, of better worse. Is the unguarded treasure safe in the house with thieves ? a sohtary virgin among libidinous ravishers ? a poor lamb among a rabble of wolves ? So is a soul among these hellish lions. A house may be so bamcaded and fortified, as to withstand mortal invasions ; but what doors or bars can keep out the devil ? especially when he hath a friend within, as ready to open as he to enter. Every man knows the way to be evil, familiarly; but to be good, is a new art, which none can teach but God.

Security is the very suburbs of hell; there is nothing but a dead wall between. Hope and Life would once take a jom-ney together. Each chose an attendant; Hope, Securihj ; and Life, Jcalomij. \\lien Hope would take rest. Security sleeps by her. Life is fearful of dangers ; therefore sets Jealousy to watch by her. Thus guarded, they are all safe. But one night the two handmaids mistook their mistresses. Jealousy watcheth by Hope; hereupon she starts, and trembles, and slumbered so unquietly, as if Doubt (her old enemy) had seized on her. Life, trusting to the vigilancy of her sentinel, Jealousy, and having (in her stead) so poor a guard as drowsy Security, was surprised by her old enemy, Danger. In this conflict. Life calls to Hope for succour; but alas! Hope had enough to do to help herself. In this extremity steps in Wisdoin, who discovers the error, at whose approach Doubt and Danger fled ; Hope and Life recovered. Dut to prevent the like mistaking hereafter, Wisdom bound Secmity to Hope, Jealousy to Life; and in every wise man they still so continue. Ut ilia certantes foveat, et ista torpentes j)UHr/at.-\- If mortal man had any immunity or exemption from sin, where was it to be expected ? In solitariness ? No ; Lot fell in the mountain. In the wilderness ? No ; for there Christ himself was tempted. In paradise ? No ; there man fell, De loco voluptatis. In heaven ? No; there angels fell, Sub p)r(Esentia Divinitatis. In Christ's College ? No ; there Judas fell, in Schola Salvatoris. Si non in ercmo, si non in CoUerfio, si non in Faradiso, si non in ccclo, multb minus in mundo.\ So we stand, as not without fear to fall; so being fallen, let us look up, as not without hope to rise. The child is not safe but in the lap of its mother, not we but in the bosom of our Saviour.

Application 2. Seeing all be fallen in Adam, and by justice shut up under condemnation, what privilege of nature can minister cause of glory ? Can riches ? Alas, they never came in request with man, till sin had made man out of request with God. When he had lost heaven, he came to mind earth; having forfeited his God, to dig for gold. Metalla, quasi [ura to. dXXa, Post alia nccessaria. Wlien the}'^ had tilled the gi'ound, and wrought out bread, planted trees, and gathered fruits, built houses for shelter, and found other things to sustain life there, Itum est in viscera terror, they iiimmage the bowels of their mother earth. Antiquiora sunt necessitatis inventa, qudm voluptatis. Gold and silver are centred in the entrails of the earth ; nearer to hell than heaven. Their orb is among pagans, not Clu'istians. ]\Iethinks, when I see a man look big because he is rich (and such are not sca^t), he is like one that swells because he hath the dropsy, or as a son that hath lost his father's inheritance, proud of a little dust from his gi'ave.

Can glories ? Alas, they were at first but like the shadows of high towers, now the sl^iadows of pigmies, and that at noon ; and at the best, but * licni. f Grcgor. J Do.vn.

shadows. Glories, like glow-worms afar off, shine bright; corae near, they have neither heat nor light. All that the world's glory leaves behind it, is but like a man that falls in the snow, and there makes his print; when the Bun shines forth, it melts both form and matter. ' Remember from whence thou art fallen,' Rev. ii. 5. If the proud could but think from whence they are fallen, they would look but poorly on the height to which they are risen. For birth, it were enough to pale the cheek of the purest gold, to think of the base earth out of which it was digged. And for learning, with what a tedious difficulty do we attain a small glimpse of our forefathers' knowledge ? There is nothing left for which a man would think well of himself; but that moss will grow to a stone. Let us hold ourselves, as we are by nature, the basest of all creatures ; there is no danger in this tenet. There is danger in riches, danger in knowledge, danger in dignity; there is no danger in humility.

AjypUcation 3. This gives us cause to bewail om* downfall, and the miserable effects it produceth. He that sees heaven lost, paradise vanished, earth cursed, hell enriched, the world corrupted, all mankind defaced, and all this by one fall, were his tears as deep as a well, this would pump them out. Often when they plough the ground too deep, they discover springs of water ; he that shall send this meditation to the root of his heart, will soon fetch tears from his eyes. God gave us tears for no other purpose, but to weep for our sins. We are fallen into poverty, and Aveep; tears will not enrich us. We suffer injury, and weep for it; tears will not redress it. We lose om- friends, and weep ; tears will not revive them. We are sick, and weep; tears is not physic to recover us. We have committed sin, and weep for that; tears will now help us. This is the disease, for which repentance is a proper remedy. To cure such a sore, this is the only salve.

Man fell by an affectation of joy, he must rise again by the affection of sorrow. The world was once drowned with water ; but ever since Adam's fall it hath been a ' valley of tears.' That part of the world that shall be drowned in the bottomless lake, spends its days in laughter; that part which shall rejoice for ever, must be first di'OAvned in tears. The son who having a noble father, sees him by foul treason condemned himself, and destroying his whole posterity, and will not weep for it, hath less passion than stones. Yea, we read that stones have cloven in sunder v/hen Christ suffered; rocks have gushed out water, being smitten with a rod; Jeroboam's altar rent with a word ; yet fleshy hearts are obdurate. Bonaventure hath a strange wish; upon that of the prophet; a ' stony heart changed to a heart of flesh,' Ezek, xxxvi. 26. A heart of flesh ! No; Lord, rather give 'toe a heart of stone. Seeing altars have rent, stones brake, rocks flowed water ; yet fleshy hearts have remained hard; Lord give me rather a heart of stone.

Application 4. This may teach us all to look to the beginnings of sin, when we consider in how small a matter (as the world construes it) the world was lost; and that an infinite ruin followed the eating of one apple; what an army of plagues may be mustered up by an act of rebellion ! Adam's brealvfast will not be digested till doomsday; it was but a little meal, even for one man, yet the whole world took a surfeit of it. David's heart ■ smote him, for touching of Saul's garment; this garment was not on, therefore he meant no harm to his person ; yet he relents. Tender consciences regret at those actions which a wicked heart passeth over with (;ase and a smile. Saul is not troubled for seeking of David's blood, David is troubled

for cutting Saul's garment. Consciences are like stomachs: one surfeits with the lightest food, and grows sick of dainties ; another turns over tho hardest morsels, scarce edible in their natui-e. But here is the difference : this may be called a good stomach, but the sample of it is a' bad conscience. Everv' good heart is in some measure scrupulous, and finds more safety in fear than in presumption. It is better to abstain from some lawful things, than hazai'd ourselvos to things unlawful. As that state is better, where nothing is allowed, than where all things, so the timorous conscience is better than the lawless. There is no hope of that man who makes no bones of his courses; but there is likelihood of him that is scrupulous. I had rather have a servant that will ask his direction twice, than one that runs of his own head without his errand.

Let us fear the first entrance to evil. If Hezekiah admit the Babylonians to see his treasmy, he hath endangered its loss; yea, invited danger. The doors are locked, the thieves cannot get in ; they then open a casement, and put in a little boy ; this boy cannot rob the house ; no, but he can opgn the door to those that will rob it. Pompey's sick soldiers, being entertained in compassion, grew strong enough to spoil the city. We see not that harvest of sorrows which follows a small seed of sin. Paul said of the mariners, * Except these abide, j^e cannot be safe,' Acts xxvii. 31; but let me say of your sins. If they do abide in you, ye cannot be saved. He is a rai'e David that hath not some Absalom, some dai'ling lust, the fosterling of his indulgence, which he would have spared. In Athaliah's massacre of the blood royal, young Joash was hid in the bed-chamber, and came to be king, 2 Kings xi. 2. Save any sin, snatch it from mortification, nurse it in the bed-chamber of the heart, hide it from impartial Athaliah, and it will in time come to be king over us. Weigh the efl'ect before thou admit the cause. Wisdom begins at the end; and if she likes not that, ends at the beginning. Had Adam fore-considered the miserable effects oi that eating, the fruit had hung on the tree to this day, untouched for him.

Application 5. Admire we God's mercy with thankfulness. Adam sinned but once, and was cast out of that glorious garden for ever. We sin daily, yet God doth not shut heaven against us. The Lord did thrust him out, he calls us in. He did set angels against his re-entry, he ajjpoiuts angels to guard our journey. They that were employed for his expulsion are ministering spirits for our admission. There was a fieiy sword to defend the garden from invasion; not tonida zona, the parching countiy under the equinoctial;- not a wall of fire, not purgatorj'.f But a sword, which by its shaking seemed to glitter as a flame of fire; not improbable, some fieiy inflammation in the likeness of a sword, for a terror in that passage. There is no sword against us, but for us, even the ' sword of the Spirit' to defend us. J

There is no terror to keep us from approaching that celestial paradise ; but * we are come to Mount Zion, to the city of the Uving God,' &c., Heb. xii. 22 ; all amiable, peaceable, delectable. Thus Adam's strength offending, was punished with severity, our weakness finds pity. He had but one commandment, therefore was justly plagued for breaking it; our proneness to sin is restrained by many, and we break them all; yet God shews us mercy. His justice came to reckon with Adam * in the cool or evening of the day;' his mercy came to save us by Christ in the evening of the world. The wind brought that terrible voice of examination to Adam; that * holy wind,' John iii. 8, brings the comfortable voice of salvation to us. Then, * Where art thou, sinner?' come forth to judgment; now, ' AVhere art thou, * TflrtuL t Lyran. Huport. % Junius.

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sinner ?' come forth to amendment. Then, ' Hast thou eaten of that (sacramental) tree which I forbade thee ?' Now, ' Come and eat' that sacramental fruit which I give thee. Then fear and guilt made man hide himself in the bushes ; now, favour and faith calls him forth to the light of goodness. Then, his eyes were opened to see his shame; now, our eyes be opened to see our Saviour. Then, in the day thou eatest, thou shalt die; now, in the day thou eatest, thou shalt live. Then, cursed be the earth for thy sake; now, blessed is the world for my Son's sake. Then, in sorrow shall the woman bring forth; now, there is joy to all nations by him who was bom of a woman. Then, dust thou art, and to dust return thy body ; now, from corruption and dust I will raise thee to glory. Then, man lost himself and all the world by his sin ; now, God hath sent redemption to all the world by his Son. Then, justly did we all die in Adam ; now, graciously do we all live again in Jesus Christ,

Original Sin is the effect of Adam's fall; both a fruit of it, and a punishment for it. It is the daughter of the first sin, and the mother of aU the rest. Yet this distinction must be observed : quod j^nus in j^ntre, poster im in jprogenie ; et in illo erat 2^osterius, quod in nobis estprius. In Adam first was actual sin; in us first is original, and after that follows actual. The points I will touch are these: What it is, Whence it comes, Where it dwells, How far it reaches.

1. What it is. Original sin is an evil ingrafted in our nature, wherein we were conceived and born, and hath two parts.

Fu'st, a real communication of the sin of our first parents to us ; every man that came, by ordinary course of nature, from Adam, sinned in the sin of Adam. This is not by imitation, according to the Pelagians ; nor by bare imputation, as the Jesuits ; nor only potentially, because we were in Adam's loins; but really, by propagation. His sin in eating the forbidden fruit, was my sin. Though I were then unborn, yet it is mine, and I must answer for it, unless Christ answer for me. He was then a pubUc person, the pledge of mankind ; what covenant God made with him, he made with us ; what God gave him, he gave us ; what he promised to God, he promised for himself, and for us ; what he did, he did for himself, and for us; what he received, he received for himself, and for us ; and what he lost, he lost for himself, and for us. When he lost his original purity, he lost it for aU his posterity. When guiltiness and corruption fixed into his nature, it stained all his posterity, Rom. v. 12. But this seems strange, that a man must answer for a sin done by another, and that five thousand years ere he was born. Answer : We grant it true, were it Adam's sin only; but it was his and mine, he being my father, and standing in my room. All men smart for Adam's sin as their own, yet few men weep for Adam's sin as their own. Let it not be so old that we have forgotten it, for it stands on our head or score in God's debt-books, and must there remain till our penitent tears wash it out.

Secondly, There is a depravation and corruption of the whole nature of man, whereby he stands guilty and polluted before God, indisposed to all good, and prone to all evil. All naturals are depraved, all supematurals are deprived. It makes the youngest child hateful to God, as the young wolf or serpent is to man, an issue corrected by grace, never fully stopped but by death.

2. Whence it comes. From our parents, without question. This leprosy began in Adam, and ran over all successions of mankind. ' I was conceived in sin,' saith that holy prophet, Psa. U. 5 ; not meaning any particular

sin of his parents in the act of generation, for he was begotten and bom in lawful marriage; but his hereditaiy sin, whereof he was guilty in his mother's womb. The manner of this propagation is hard to define. As the mother said to her childi'cn, * I cannot tell how you came into my womb ; it was not I that formed your members,' 2 Mac. vii. 22. I know not how my soul was formed, but he knows that formed it,* whether he framed it together with the body, or infused it into a body first prepared and formed. So may it be said of original sin : we know we have it, and we laiow from whom we had it; we know not definitively how wo came by it, wo Imow not how to be rid of it.

There be two select and most received opinions; take your choice. 1. That in the instant of mfusion God forsakes the soul, not in respect of the substance or faculties of it, but in respect of his own image, whereof it is deprived in Adam. Nor is this injustice in God; for original sin iu us is but a due punishment of that actual sin in him. Primo homini qiuxl erat pfTua, nobis jit natura.\ 2. That the corruption of the body is derived fi-om the parents, and the corruption of the soul fi-om the body, as sweet oil pom-ed into a fusty vessel loseth its pureness ; and still this contagion of the soul must be considered as a just punishment of sin. Objection: But sin is an act of the soul, not of the body; it cannot then be in tho body till tho soul come ; and iu the soul it is not, because that is immediately created pure of God; therefore, unless the soul be traduced from the parents, where place you original sin ? Answer : It is neither proper to the body, nor to the soul, alone; but is peccatiim hominis, a sm of the whole man; and the man consists of both. It comes fi'om neither of them single, but out of the conjunction of them both together; he is not a man that wants either. Neither the body must be respected alone, nor the soul alone; but as they jointly make one man, and enter into one condition.

But how stands this with God's justice, to thrust a clean soul into an unclean body, as a virgin in the stews? Answer: 1. The soul and body are not respected of God as single substances, but as being joined they make one man. 2. The soul, though it be created pui'e, continues not in that state one moment, being made in the midst of an imclean place. Children die, therefore they have sin ; they die before actual, therefore they can have none but original.

Some pontificians hold that original sin is only derived from Adam, not from Eve, because it is said, 'By one man sin entered,' Rom. v. 12. But, 1. Anthropos signifies both man and woman. 2. Man is named because he is the chief instrument of generation ; ' for the man is not of the woman, but the woman of the man,' 1 Cor. xi. 8. By the law the males were only circumcised, because the beginning of carnal generation was from them. 3. Adam was the more noble person, and the transgression was not consummated but by his consent; therefore it is called ' his sin.' 4. If Adam alone brought in sin, then how was the woman ' first in the transgi^ession !' 1 Tim. ii. 14. 5. The sin came by two, and the apostle says, ' it entered by one,' for they two made but one ; ' two shall be one flesh.' \ By one it entered, yet both sinned : Quia intravit per muliercmde viw factum ;^ or because if man had not sinned, mankind had not been corrupted. The truth is, that original sin came from them both together. ' Of the woman came the beginning of sin, andthi-ough her we all die,' saith the preacher, Ecclus. XXV. 24; which is good Scripture against our adversaries. Saint ♦ Aug. t Aug. X Aug. § Lombard.

Augustine infers upon it, Per duos Jiomines transisse peccatum. Both, saith Ambrose, Parentes ut generis, sic et erroris. This is agi'eeable to the law of nature ; Partus sequitur ventrem: if a free man get a child by a bondwoman, the child shall be bond by the mother, not free by the father.

First, as sin entered into paradise, so it entered into the world; for it is the same sin in us that was in them: in them actually, in us originally; and the same sin must have the same beginning; but it came into paradise by them both, therefore so into the world. 2. By whom death entered, by them sin entered; but death came by them both, and they received one common punishment as being guilty of one sin ; both are turned into dust. From them both we have this corrupt habit, which is not only a privation of health, like a disease, but hath also humores male dispositos.

But holy parents beget holy children ; for it stands not with reason that they should convey that to their children which they have not themselves. Answer: Parents beget children as they are men, not as they are holy men. Sanctus general, non regenerat Jilios carnis,-''' By generation they derive to them their nature, they cannot derive their grace, which is above nature. We give them what our earthly parents gave us, not what our heavenly Father infuseth into us. Take the finest wheat, winnow it, fan it, skry it, leave not a chaflf upon it, then sow it; when it is grown up, weed it; when it is ripe, reap it; when it is in the barn, thrash it: yet you shall find as much chaff as ever it had before. So God ordained it in the creation, that as oft as it gi'ows, it should bear stalk, ear, chaff, and all. A pippin may come from a crab-stock; but this is a new graft: it naturally bears none but crabs. Tame a couple of wolves till no cruelty appear left in them, yet the young wolf they engender will be bloody. Naturam expellas furca licet, usque recurret. If sanctified parents could produce sanctified children, I see no reason but counsellors should beget counsellors, and wise men beget wise men, not fools. But nature hath left us bad, and nothing but grace can make us good.

3. Where it dwells. This cannot be the substance of man, for by that reason the soul should not be immortal; and Christ, in taking our nature, should also contract sin, and so himself need a redeemer. It cannot be the faculties of the soul, the understanding, will, afiections : for these were in man from the first creation, whereas sin was not before the fall; God made the faculties, he made not sin. It must needs then consist in the corruption of those faculties, and so original sin is a disorder and evil disposition in the whole man, carrying him inordinately against goodness. The subject of it then is not one part of man, but the conniption of the whole body and soul. The natural appetite is vitiated, from whence come so innumerable diseases and distempers. The outward senses are corrupted, the eye hunting after vanity, the ear opening the door to petulancy. For the soul, the understanding is like a dai'k lantern, the light is dimmed; the will like a water-mill driven with a violent stream, without cessation of evil, Gen. vi. 5.

This cannot, therefore, come by imitation : then the faculties of infants should not be corrupted, for they cannot imitate good or evil; yet they have sin, or they could not die. Yea, so death should reign over no son of Adam, that had not ' sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgi'ession', Rom. V. 14. Many, in sinning, do not propound to themselves the example of Adam, but have other occasions. The thief robs a passenger, and never thinks of Adam, but of gold. What is Adam's eating the fruit to adulteiy

* Aug.

or uncleanness ? Besides, many in the world never heard of Adam's transgression. What shall we say then ? Doth God give men souls answerable to their corrupt bodies, as to other creatiu-es, spirits agreeable to their conditions ? God forbid ! pure they came from him. Doeth the carnal pleasure of parents cause it ? No, for there is no generation without dehght; and if that pleasure, considered in itself, were sin, marriage itself were also sinful. And if it were granted a sin, yet only that particular sin can bo conveyed by it; whereas original sin is the corruption of the whole nature. Doth the soul, then, come from the parents, as the body ? Divers have reasoned hard for this. 1. It is said of Adam expressly, * God breathed into him the breath of life:' not so of Eve ; therefore her soul was from his. Ans.: Nay, therefore it had the same beginning with his ; otherwise he would have said, ' This is soul of my soul,' as well as, ' This is flesh of my flesh.' 2. * The souls that came out of Jacob's loins wei-e threescore and six,' Gen. xlvi. 26 : souls out of loins. Ans.: The soul is taken for the whole person. By a synecdoche, man is denominated by his better part. So Maiy is said to be dioTozog, the mother of God, because her son was God and man ; yet was he her son no further than he was a man : ho was bom only as a man. 3. But if the flesh only be derived from our parents, then doth man confer less in his generation than brute beasts ; for they traduce not only bodies, but also spirits in their kinds. Ans.: God inspires the soul, but into the body, and so they both come forth of our parents. So toius homo ex toto hotnine nascitur: even the soul, albeit not materially, yet originally. Man's soul is not derived from the soul of his father ; yet man, as he consists of body and soul, is begotten of his father, the Father of spirits concurring in that natural act.

Thus original sin proven it ex came causaliter ;* yet is in the soul subjective et formaliter. Sickness comes of corrupt meats as the cause ; yet not the meats, but the body is the subject of sickness. The pure soul is infected with the contagion of impure seed, as a fair flower is sulUed with unclean hands. They that live in a smoky house must needs be smutched, and contract soma of the blaclyiess. Put the whitest wool into the dye-fat of woad, it will come out blue. This, then, is an hereditary disease ; as a leprous fether begets a leprous son: otten ccecus caciim, and claudus clau-dum. Parents' goodness repaired cannot make this goodness propagated : as the Jews, being circumcised, begat children that were uncircumcised; to shew that the grace of circumcision was not hereditary, but they needed a new and successive circumcision of heart. The father had his sins forgiven him when he begat his son; ho could not transmit part of that forgiveness to his son. The sanctity of parents no more passeth to theirs, than doth their knowledge and other virtues. Grace only comes from our supernatural Father in heaven.

4. How far it reacheth. It is not only a deprivation x)f original justice, and the want of this makes man culpable, though not culpa actuali, qu<B est supfositi, yet culpi oriyinali, qua; est naturoi. But also a pravity and deformity of all the powers of man ; the efiicient cause whereof was the pervcr.scness of Adam's will, the instrument is carnal propagation, the end is eternal confusion, without the mercy of God in Christ. It is taken both actively for the sin of Adam, which was the cause of sin in his posterity, called orirjinaJe orir/inans. And passively, for the natural corniption raised in Adam's oflspring, by his transgression, termed Ori/jinale originatum. The eflects are three. First, Participatio culpa;; when he sinned, we

* Lyran.

sinned. Secondly, Depravatio naturcE, a deformity wherein dwelleth no good thing. Thirdly, Imputatio reatus, which subjects us to wrath and death, both temporal and eternal.

Bellarmine says that this infection is malum, non j^eccatum; an evil, not a sin. Ans.: Well then, by this concession, it is an evil; and by St Paul's confession it is a sin, Rom. vii. 7; therefore it is an evil that is a sin. Object. : But it is lex j^eccati, the ' law of sin,' therefore not sin. Ans.: Yea, by this reason it is worse than sin. As the law that commands things holy is itself more holy, so concupiscence, the law of sin, prescribing things unjust, is itself more unjust. If it be not a sin, as they deny ; yet it is worse than sin, which they grant. By saying thus, what do they gain ? Object. : But it is not voluntary, therefore no sin. Ans.: That which was voluntary in our transgi'essing parents, is become necessary in their corrupted childi-en. Object.: But it was not a sin in Adam to be tempted of Eve, nor in Eve to be tempted of the serpent, till they consented. Ans.: This was true in them, because sin had then no being ; not so in us, who brought sin along with us. They consented before they had sin, we have sin before we consent. Then, the suggestion was external, without them; now it is internal, and from within us. We have a serpent in our own bosoms : concupiscence, to tempt us. Their innocency puts Satan to his trumps ; in our natui'al uncleanness he finds prepared matter to work upon.

For reasons to prove this original concupiscence to be a sin, remaining in us even after conversion. * If we confess our sins, God is faithful to forgive them ; yet, ' if we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves,' 1 John, i, 8, 9. The remission of sin, and the remansion of sin, may stand together. The guilt is taken away by forgiveness in Christ; yet after this forgiveness, he that says he hath no sin, is a liar. ' Let not sin reign in your mortal body,' Rom. vi. 12. This exhortation is given to men regenerate. Now, there was no fear of its reigning, if it were not remaining. So Augustine.* The baptized is cleared from the guilt of all evils, not from the evils themselves. Nunquid caret ignorantioi malo ? Is not the evil of ignorance still in him ? Now, concupiscence is worse than ignorance, and ignorance is a sin. In ii$ qui intelligere noluenmt, peccatum: in iis qui non potuerunt, pecna peccati : this evil that remaineth in us, being not Substantia, seel vitium substanticB : Dei gratia nos regenerante, non est impu-tandum: Dei gratia adjuvante, franandum: Dei gratia coronante, saiiundum. The Douay men say, it is a matter of exercise in the righteous, and if they resist, of merit. But so as well may spots and pimples make the face beautiful. Whose is the flesh ? Is it not ours ? Who shall answer for the evils done in the flesh ? Shall not we ? It is not om- merit, that God's grace in us doth resist; but it is our fault, that om' flesh doth rebel. There were certain heretics called Ophitce, of the serpent, whom they did reverence, saying that he brought first into paradise the knowledge of virtue. Little other do the Rhemists, while they commend the serpent's tail or sting, teaching that it makes just men's actions more meritorious. But EspencaBus, a grave writer of theirs, urgeth that of St Cyprian, that no man escapes the biting of the serpent without hurt, which is lust. Nee quisquam ex illo vidnere sanus abit.\ It breeds sin, it brings forth death.

Thus far I have gone : if any inquire or require fui'ther, let them correct

themselves. This is enough for us to know; and knowing this, it is more

than we know how to help. When a house is on fii'e, it is a vain expense

of time to inquire how it began : Tace lingua, succure manu; hold thy

* Contra Julian lib. vi. 6, 5. f Propert.

tongue, and bring tby bucket to quench it. St Augustine compares it to one fiilleu into a pit: whilo the passenger stands wondering bow be fell in, bo repUes, 2\i coijita quomodo hinc me Uberes, non quomodo hue ceciderim qmiras: never examine bow I fell in, till tbou bast fii'st belpcd me out. The patient would be impatient to bear bis cbirurgeon stand questioning bow be came by bis wounds, before be liatb stancliud tbe blood, and bound tbem up. It is tbe tree of knowledge tbat undid us, tbe tree of life can only recover us.

Conclusion 1. In every man are all sins, because original sin is tbe material of all. Tbis is not in some men more, in some less, but in all equally, as all are equally tbe cbildren of Adam. Tbere is in eveiy man a want, not of some, but of all, inclination to goodness; a proneness, not to some, but to all, evil. The seeds of all sins are witbin us ; I do not say tbe practice, but tbe seeds. But some are Icind, otbers cruel; some mild, otbers furious; some civil, otbers licentious. Answer: Tbis difl'crence arisetb not from more or less corraption, but fi'om more or less limitation. God restrainetb nature, but tbat is no thanks to nature. Something we ascribe to corporeal constitution, something to civil education, something to legal subjection, something to secular vocation, something to national custom, something to rational direction, all to the limiting gi-ace of God, tbat corrects nature from running into divers sins. Without which, any man would commit any sin, even the most horrid tbat ever tbe world brought forth. Tbat some are not so angry, so wanton, so drunken, so covetous as others, it is not from their own natm-al goodness, but tbe supernatural goodness of God. Tbere is not tbe same eruption in all, there is in all the same corruption. Some be not kites, otbers hawks, and tbe rest eagles, from one and the same eyrie. But tbat God is pleased, for his church's sake, for order's sake, for the world's sake, for man's sake, for bis ovs-n gloiy's sake, to repress and stint natm-e, there would be no society among men.

Nor be these seeds in tbe worst only, but in the best-natured men. So tbat, make choice of tbe best man, and the worst sin ; and the worst sin is to be found in that best man, tbe seminale principium is in him. This every man that knows himself knows to be trae. I appeal to the conscience, especially of a good man, whether he find not in bis nature an inclination to the foulest sin in the world. He that doth not feel this suggestion of concupiscence, is stark dead in disobedience. Cain committed an unnatm'al murder in kilbng his brother, and went to bell for his labour; we bate such a villainy, yet is tbe seed of this sin within us. We are further from Adam than Cain was, we are as near to the sin of Adam as Cain was. He was the immediate heir of bis body, we are as immediate heirs of his guilt. Sodom bad found out an unnatui-al way of lust, and was destroyed with unnatm-al fire for it; we have tbe gi'ace to detest it, j-et, let our pride hear, the root even of that sin is within us. Sennacherib blasphemed the living God; Julian, both lining and dving, blasphemed Christ: we know their fearful ends, and tremble to think of their sins; yet is there in us by nature a disposition to those sins, and (without preventing grace) we may fall into them. When wo read that Judas betrayed his Master, that Pilate condemned the innocent, that tbe Jews crucified their Sanour, we bless ourselves; were Christ now liA-ing on earth, we could not use him so for all tbe world. But let us better consider of tbe matter: we are the children of Adam as well as they, and were bom with as much of bim in us as they were; bo tbat, naturally,

there is malice enough in us, were he now among us, with Judas to hetray him, with Pilate to condemn him, with the Gentiles to pierce his side, with the Jews to tear his heart. Yea, they are not few, that with their blasphemies and oppressions still crucify, and that the glorified body of Christ.

To conclude. Let a man conceive in his mind the most notorious sin that can be; and though he do not act it, do not intend it, do never admit it, yet the matter, beginning, seed and root, is in him. Yea, even the seed of that unpardonable sin against the Holy Ghost, though not one man among many thousands do commit it. In that sin is the sea of all sins, and in man is the fountain of that sin. All evil tends to a perfection, as well as goodness ; and the devil would fain screw up all to that height, till, like an exhalation, it be fired and sent down to heU. It is only the omnipotent goodness that restrains devil and man from being so wicked as they would and could be. * The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked,' Jer. xvii. 9 : a vast ocean, whereof we can neither see the banks, nor sound the bottom. Experience teacheth that men are fi:iends to-day, to-morrow foes ; now civil, presently outrageous ; all their life kind comforters, on a sudden desperate murderers. From whence comes this alteration, but from hidden corruption ? The seed was before, now the temptation ripens it into act. When we hear of the murders, massacres, treasons, blasphemies, perjuries, apostasies, sacrileges, and such horrible sins of the world, let us look homeward, and confess that any of these might have been our sins, had not gi'ace prevented us.

Conclusion 2. Thi'ough this sin we are all by nature the children of ■wrath, born subject to damnation, and stand like traitors convicted in the Prince's high displeasure, sure to die without a special pardon. The less suspicion of this, the greater danger. Every man is bom a pharisee, weU-conceited of himself; and if he miss scandalous impiety, he presently blesseth his own happy disposition. But let him know, that nature is as" corrupt in him as in the worst man of the world. Therefore praise not thy nature, but God's grace, which hath so rectified thy nature. And to this common grace that qualifies corruption, beseech him to add that saving grace which mortifies corruption, without which the best nature of man shall never come to salvation. Yea, he that is conceived in sin is conceived in wrath, for the sin of man and the wrath of God are inseparable. The curse under which we are all bom is threefold—of sin, of death, of hell.

(1.) Sin, which is a bondage under Satan. A Spaniard over his galleys, a Tm-k over his slaves, are good masters compared with this. There, only men's bodies be captivated and subjected to labours and stripes, their mind is free ; but here, man's best part, his heai't, conscience, soul, is under the king of cruelty ; whose law is injustice, whose service is sin, and his hire confusion. Many will not name the devil without defiance, yet serve him with all diligence. They spit him out of their mouths ; but he is lower, they should conjure him out of their hearts. There he sits in his throne, and keeps his court, till the Spirit of grace dispossess him. Invite this 'honourable guest,' that sin may 'give place,' Luke xiv. 9 ; it will have some room, but let it ' with shame take the lowest room.' If a man could hover in the air, and see all the miseries of a town besieged, so long till all their provision be spent, what lamentable shifts they make to protract a famished life ; one tearing a piece of stinking veiToin out of another's throat; a mother ready to devoiir the fruit of her own body, reforcing that to keep hfe within her, that took life from her ; the murdering pieces dashing down houses, and ruining the inhabitants with their falls ; and upon the

entrance of the enemy, virgins shrieking with cries, and rending their hairs, that their bodies must be abused before they have leave to die ; the wife cleaving to the arms of her wounded husband, dying with him with whom she may not live ; the rage of a merciless enemy, ' kill, kill;' the impotence of the sufibrers, ' die, die ;' how would his heart bleed in the commiseration of this calamity ? Alas! this is but a poor shadow, a representation far too short, to picture out unto us the miserable slavery of the world under sin and Satan. Lands, houses, cities, estates, privileges, lives, and such temporal things do there perish ; but hero the souls of men are murdered, massacred, captivated. One is set to scrape together wealth, whereof ho must not taste ; there one is possessed with the spirit of blasphemy, daring heaven to vent his thunder ; here one burning with lust, there another besotted with drunkenness; here one robbing the church, to the everlasting forfeit of her blessing, there another cheating the commonwealth; all taking more pains in the devil's service, than ever poor slave did in those tyrants' galleys ; who can look at this estate with dry eyes ? This made Christ weep over Jerusalem ; by this she drew from him his tears before she had his blood. All this miseiy upon us, is from that sin onginal within us.

(2.) Death, and this in itself is a temble curse; the very gate of hell, the portal of damnation. To the ^vicked it is the end of glor}% and the beginning of shame ; the epilogue of their comforts, and the first act of their everlasting torments. It is called the ' pale horse,' Rev. vi. 8, a furious and forcible beast; Jehu's horse, that stamped Jezebel into pieces, was but a jade to it. The steed that dashes out the little puppy's brains, is weak in respect of death, which, with a spurn or kick of his heel, foils the strongest constitution. It treads on the necks of kings and princes, as Joshua's captains ; insults in the terms of Rabshakeh, ' "Where is the king of Hamath, where is the king of Ai-phad, and Sepharvaim ? ' Tyrants, whose force was upon the living, are by this horse laid among the dead ; making their beds in the slimy valleys, and laying their swords under their heads. Where is Goliah with his beamy javelin, and brazen boots ? Hath wisdom delivered, strength rescued, or wealth ransomed from death ? This ' king of fears,' was bred by sin ; and so far as sin reacheth, he challengeth his dominion.

In the sin of Adam all die. Death comes upon sinners, like an armed horseman upon naked footmen. There is no prevention by resistance, no evasion by flight. This winged Pegasus hath all men in chase ; sometimes gives them law, and at his pleasure fetches them up again ; gallops as swift as time, when his rider gives him the reins, and swallows the ground as he goes. He sets out after man as soon as he is put into the race of this world, and plays v,ith him as the gi'eyhound with the badger ; sometimes he follows lair and far off, keeps aloof out of sight; anon he takes his career, and is at his heels. Sickness is the neighing of his nostrils, after which, though he allows us some breath, yet in the end overtakes us, and is upon us in an instant. Yet in Christ, his nature is changed, and this horse shall but cany us over Jordan to the land of promise. The quartan ague is called the shame of physic ; but death indeed befools aU natural skill and valour. There is a disease we call the king's evil; because he most happily cures it. So death may be called faith's evil; she only professeth the healing of this disease, and by the least touch of Christ's hand per-formeth it as familiarly as the richest balsam heals the smallest cut of the finger. Such a curse came by the first Adam, by the second such a blessing.

(3.) Hell. The wrath of God is the curse of all curses, and hell the completion of all torments. Death is pale, but his ' follower' (Rev. vi. 8) is a black fellow. The very fit of a cholic is held an insufferable pain. A man would give all the world for ease; yea, many wish themselves out of the world to be out of that anguish. Now, if the pain of one part will so distemper body and soul that it cannot be relieved with all the pleasures on earth, what then shall that torment be when not one kind of pain, but the whole vials of wrath, shall be poured, not on one member, but on the whole soul, body, conscience; and that not for a time, but eternally, without hope of relief, \\ hich one thing makes hell to be hell indeed; and that not in this world, where may be some comforts and remedies, but in that ugly dungeon and infernal vault; and this not among living men, who, if they cannot ease thee, yet will pity and bemoan thee, but among damned spkits, which solace themselves in thy destruction, and rejoice to be thy tonnentors ?

Death is the extremest of all sufferings on earth, and therefore fittest to give denomination to the torments of heU, which are called ' the second death.' AVhen the spmtual court of man is breaking up, every office discharged, the eye from seeing, the tongue from speaking, the foot from walking, only tlae sense is not yet past feeling, violent convulsions rending the veins and sinews, an ai-my of pangs assaulting the heart-strings; when a man lies betwixt life and death, having no hope to live, and jet no power to die; this is an image and shadow, and but a shadow, of that second death which can neither be endured nor avoided.

This is that threefold curse of God due to the first sin of man. The first is a spu'itual death, which is of the soul; the next a temporal death, which is of the body; the last an eternal death, which is of them both. These do answer to the three degrees of sin. 1. A guiltiness of Adam's disobedience. 2. The taint of original and universal corruption. 3. A pollution by many actual offences. In the first every man is equally guilty, in the second equally corrupt, in the third each keeps that compass which the power of God limits. Now, as in our guiltiness of Adam's sin hath its beginning, in original sin its continuance, in actual sin its perfection; so the wrath of God, which always stands opposite to sin, is begun in leaving us to the slavery of Satan, is continued by death, and accomplished by damnation. This is the misery of our natural estate, for which we have all cause to be thoroughly humbled, seeing, if God should take us away without repentance, it is not possible to escape vengeance. But blessed be that God, who hath done better things for us, and from this hapless, helpless, hopeless condition, hath, by a covenant of mercy in his own Son, raised us up to salvation.

The Remedy finds the next place in our meditations. We see by demonstration, and should not see without shame and sorrow, our natural estate. Whither doth a man's sickness send him but to the physician? A repairer we need, but where is ho to be found ? Where dwells that great physician that can do this cure ? Is there any simple in the garden of nature that hath this virtue? No, non est mcdicamen in hortis. Is there any among the sons of man, any among the sons of God, the blessed angels, that can help us ? No looking for a medicine in heU; there is nothing but poison in those sophisticate vials of darkness. Angels could not if they would, devils would not if they could, do us this good. Shall we run to the law ? There is, indeed, a promise of life, but, withal, a condition which we were never able to perform, ' Do this, and live.' This we have not done; therefore the law condemns us. It began in thunder and lightning, and never gaye over thundering till that blessed shower came, Ps. Ixxii. 6, wherein

God rained down his own Son from heaven. Is there, then, no hope of Hfe, no hfe of hope, remaming? Is our evil past all remedy? Must we needs perish?

No. Behold the day hreaks, the sun riseth, darkness vanisheth, wrath and malediction give place to favour and salvation. Justice is content to give mercy the upper hand. Grace comes down from the imperial court of glory, in a refulgent throne of ivorj', drawn hy swans and doves, simplicity and innocency. Thousands of angels wait upon her, those celestial voices make her melody; the sun calls his heams to do her reverence, the moon and stars how low to her; the obedient clouds part to give her way, the earth springs to welcome her; the sea cm-Is his waves, the floods clap their hands for joy; the birds sing in the air, the beasts skip in the pastures. There is a universal holida}' all over the world; only hell trembles, and the infernal spirits be struck with melancholy. Trath and righteousness go before her, peace and prosperity follow after her, pity waits on her left hand, on her right hand mercy; and when she first sets her foot on the earth she cries, A pardon, a pardon. Hear, ye sons of men, and thereby sons of wrath. My sister. Love, hath prevailed with your oflended Father, and he hath sent me, the daughter of his goodness, to bring you news of a Jesus, the Son of his delight and greatness. Lo, he shall come down to the earth, that you may ascend up into heaven; he shall die, that you may live. Thus dear do you cost him; be thankful to him. A pardon, a pardon! Let the heavens sing, and the earth shout for joy, and the whole fi'ame of nature triumph ! Peace be with j-ou, for God is reconciled unto j'ou. To assure you of which comfort, I, Grace, do promise both to live with you dm'ing this world, and that you shall live with me in the world to come.

' The law made nothing perfect, but the bringing in of a better hope did ; by the which we draw nigh unto God,' Heb. ■\ii. 19. We desire to enter into heaven : the apostle tells us of a wi-ong door and of a right. The law was a ■nTong door, ' it made nothing perfect.' Whether we take it for—

The moral law; what hope of remedy was here ? God was ever wonderful in his works, and fearful in his judgments ; but never so terrible in the execution of his will as he was in the promulgation of it. What a majestical terror was there! Lightning darted in their eyes, thunder roared in their ears, the trumpet chowning the claps of thunder, and the voice of God outsoimding the trumpet. The cloud inwrapping, the smoke ascending, the thimder ratthng, the fire flashing, the mount trembling; Moses climbing and quaking; paleness and death in the face of Israel; an uproar in the elements, and all the glor}' of heaven turned into teiTor. Is there any hope that law should save the world, that did thus terrify it ? Never was such an astonishment: God hath been fearful in punishing the breach of his law, but never so fearful as when he gave the law. WTien he destroyed the old world, there were clouds raining, without fire; when he destroyed Sodom, there was fire raining, without clouds. But here were fire and clouds, smoke, thunder, and earthquake, in one amazing mixture.

Now, if there was such terror at the law giving, what shall be at the law requu'ing ? If such were the proclamation of God's statutes, what shall we think of the assizes ? The trumpet of the angels called them unto the former; the voice of an archangel, the tnunpet of God, shall summon all the world to the latter. There only Mount Sinai was on a flame, here the whole world shall be on light fire. There only that hill trembled, here the foundations of the earth shall quake. Then the elements were in combustion, at this day they shall be in a confusion, ' and melt away with

a noise,' There heaven was darkened, here ' the heavens shall be dissolved.' There only (as it were) sparks or flakes of fire, in this there shall be an universal flame.

He that did thus forbid sin, how terrible will he be in doing vengeance upon sinners! If he did appear so astonishing a lawgiver, what kind of judge must we expect him ? If there was little less than death in the delivering, where shall they appear that are guilty of the transgressing ? What shall become of the breakers of so fiery a law ? If he should but exact his law in the same rigour that he gave it, and no more punishment should be felt than was then seen and feared, yet sin could not quit the cost. But now the fire wherein it was delivered was but terrifying; the fire wherein it shall be required is consuming; the fire wherein the breach of it shall be tonnented is everlasting. 0 happy men that are delivered from that law, which was given in fire, and in fire shall be required! Fire will continue long in bells and other metals, but time will wear it out; but the fire wherein the law was given is still in it, and will never out. What are our terrors of conscience, stingings and gripings of heart, sorrows and distractions of spirit, in the remorse of sin, but the flashings of this fii*e ? Every man's heart is a Sinai, on which the law being read, there presently appear the clouds and smoke of rebellions, the thunder of God's vengeance, the earthquake of fear and despair, the fire of that burning pit. By this door then we cannot pass; for as the cherubims guarded paradise with a flaming sword, so here is fire, and smoke, and thunder, and terror to keep us out.

Or whether we take it for the Levitical law; could the law of ceremonies and sacrifices, which was wholly figm'ative of Christ, do us more good ? Alas ! they were but the shadows of good substances ; and it must be the substance that doth us good, not the shadow. They were something, they are nothing: like stars which do us some pleasure in a dark night, biit hide their faces at the glory of the sun. At fii'st they were mortales, dying; after Christ's victory, mortucE, dead ; now they are mortifercs, deadly. Some have called the legal priests cocos gloriosos, magnificos laniones, glorious butchers; none but evangelical priests bring the saving health.

Circumcision prefigured Christ: it is necessary that it should cease post adventnm, quod prcesignificavit adventum. All their sacrifices were figures of Christ's sacrifice; why should beasts any more die upon altars, when Christ hath died upon the cross ? Paul calls legal ceremonies ' beggarly rudiments;' such are the popish, like a beggar's cloak, fiiU of patches. When the debt is paid, it is unjust to keep back the bond: Christ being come, and having discharged all, it is injurious to retain the bond of ceremonies. Li the spring we make much of buds and flowers to delight the eye and cheer the sense of smelling ; but in autumn, when we receive the fraits to content our taste and appetite, and to nourish us, the other are nothing worth. The afiianced virgin esteems every token her lover sends her, and solaceth her aflections with those earnests of his love in his absence; but when she is married, and enjoys himself, there is no regard of the tokens. It was something to have a ceremony or a sacrifice, representing a Saviour; but this ' made nothing perfect;' and all the hfe which those things had was from that Saviour whom now we have.

' But the bringing in of a better hope did.' In the law moral there was no hope ; in the law tj'pical there was a little hope; in the law evangelical there is a ' better hope.' This doth both absolve the former, and dissolve the latter. Moses had a vail on his face when he brought the law; yea,

God had a vail on his own face, which hid his presence in the holy of holies. Now, when Christ said ' It is finished,' both the vail of God did rend, and the vail of Moses was pulled off. The vail is off, we now clearly see Christ, the end of the law: our Joshua, tliat succeeded Moses, speaks to us barefaced. "What a shame is it if there should be a vail upon our hearts, when there is none upon his face ! * Even when we were dead in sins, God hath quickened us together with Christ,' Eph. ii. 5. Here is death in its extent, the worst of things we can suffer; and life in its extent, the best of things God can give. We have already looked death in the face, let us now more admiringly behold that love which hath given us life. What David said of Ahimaaz, ' He is a good man, and cometh with good tidings,' 2 Sam. xviii. 27, is infinitely more true of Christ: ' He brings good news with him.' There was impossibility in the door of the law, great difficulty in the door of shadows and figures; but this last is the door of life, whereby we have hope, good hope, better hope of our salvation.

Let us therefore ' di'aw nigh uuto God;' and good reason, for ho hath drawn nigh unto us. In good manners, we should have gone first to him; but we durst not, we could not, unless he had first descended unto us. ' Nigh unto God:' it seems that we were far ofi" before; indeed, near enough to his presence, for we could not be but before him ; near enough to his power, for we could not move but in him; too near (for us) to his justice, for that had condemned us; but far from his favour, for that had not approved us. Such tenns of distance were betwixt God and man, that we could not approach ; and if we would, yet the door was shut against us. Blessed be he that hath the key in his hand, and with one turn did let us all in; that by opening the door of his own heart, did open for us the door of heaven; for when by death his side was pierced, the door of life was opened. He hath shewn us the way; he hath cleared the way; he is * the way.' Let us di'aw near by him, who should never have been welcome without him ; and that God, to whom we draw near in faith and piety, draw near to us in love and mercy.

The Covenant of Grace. —There is a promise of reconciliation whereby God's mercy raiseth up forlorn man from his misciy: ' The seed of the woman shall break the head of the serpent.' In this covenant there be two parties: God is the principal, and he promiseth righteousness and salvation in Christ. Man is the other, and he binds himself, by God's gi'ace, to believe and rest upon the promise. This covenant is not made with angels, ■who, as they fell without a tempter, so are left without a redeemer; but with man. Nor yet with all men, but only with those to whom the free mercy of God hath given faith. * All are concluded under sin, but the promise of faith by Jesus Chiist is given to them that believe,' Gal. iii. 22. Sin belongs to all men, the promise onl}' to the faithful.

There hath always been a distinction of men. In Adam's family Abel was received into the covenant, Cain rejected. In the days of Noah, some were the * sons of God,' the rest the ' children of men.' In Abraham's house, Ishmael is cast out, the * promise is established in Isaac' From Isaac's loins Jacob is loved, Esau is hated. The Jews had the ' adoption,' the Gentiles were * strangers to the covenant.' Object. : But as Adam received the first gi'ace for himself and all mankind, so also the second, which is the promise. Ans.: Indeed, by creation he received goodness for himself and all his posterity, and in hie foil he lost that goodness in himself and all his posterity; God did put • enmity between the seed of the woman and of the serpent.' This is primarily understood of Christ, who

was SO properly the seed of the woman, that he was not the seed of man ; so betwixt Christ and Satan was the greatest enmity, for he consented to him in nothing. Next, by the woman's seed is meant all the elect, and by the serpent's seed all the wicked. Now, if all men were received into the covenant, then were all men the seed of the woman, and the sei-pent should have no seed at all. In every covenant there must be a mutual consent on both sides ; as there is a promise on God's part, so there must be a re-stipulation on ours, otherwise it is no bargain ; but he that beheves not, consents not, therefore he is not of the covenant. That doctrine is repugnant to the Scripture, and unsound, which teacheth the redemption by the second Adam to be as universal as the sin of the first; it is so, indeed, for value and sufficiency, it is not so for communication of the benefit. The ' world' is taken in both the better sense and the worse: ' the world is reconciled,' 2 Cor. V. 19, and ' the world is not reconciled,' 1 John v. 19; who can reconcile these speeches ? Saint Augustine thus : Christ redeemed totwn munclum ex toto mundo, a little world out of the gi'eat. So we speak in common phrase, emphatically, a ' world of saints,' and yet we know there is a world of sinners. For method in opening this covenant, I insist on five points—the extent, the restraint, the cause, the manner or form, and the instrument or charter.

1. First, for the latitude or extent, Christ's sacrifice was universal, of infinite value, but of definite apprehension. It is universal in four respects.

(1.) For time. No time is excepted. He was once sacrificed in act, always in potentia, in efiect and validity to save. Therefore, that he might save those who were before him, he is called ' the Lamb slain from the beginning of the world.' He was not sooner promised than his "\drtue was exhibited. God took his own word before he had performed the deed. And to shew that he saves to the end of the world, ' if any man sin (at any time) we have an advocate with the Father.' Adam sinned in the morning of the world, Noah in the forenoon, Solomon at high noon, Peter in the afternoon, we sin in the evening, they after us at very night; Christ died for us all. Not that all men, at aU times, had this medicine, but whosoever had it found salvation by it.

(2.) For place. Even when Jewry was the sole depositary of it, and the Gentiles were then ' no people,' yet here and there many became proselytes; and it was not so confined to Jerusalem, but that God called divers aliens, and joined them to his church. But now the door of salvation is set wide open, men may flock from the four winds, from all parts of the world, and be entertained. When Gideon's fleece was wet, the ground was dry; when the Jews had the chm'ch, the Gentiles wanted it. Now the ground is wet, and the fleece is dry ; the Jews want the church, and the Gentiles have it. Swarthy Africa hath heard of Christ; and America no sooner discovered her riches to us, but we discovered our better riches to them, and so exchanged with them in a happy trafiic. God grant them to become more rich by ours than we have grown by theirs. So shall they perceive that all their mines are not worth one dram of the blessed gospel.

(3.) For object. No sin is excepted. Bodily diseases, as they come from several causes, require several courses of cure. He that is sick of the stone, alias curatu^ quam febniosus. Cold aches and palsies have another medicine, than burning fevers and inflammations. That which opens an obstruction increaseth a fluid evacuation. But Christ's sacrifice cm-es all—close-fisted covetousness, or open-handed profuseness ; the costive usui'er, or the laxative rioter; aspmng presumption, or dejected despair; the cunning phari-

see, or the impudent publican; proud affoctedness, or sordid 'nastiness; natural impurity, or unnatural cruelty; blind ignorance, wilful malice ; envy, idolatrj-, blasphemy; there is no sin so desperate but this physic can euro it. Noah's drunkenness. Lot's incest, David's uncleanness, Solomon'a defection, Peter's denial, Mary Magdalene's prostitution, Zaccheus's oppression, the Ephesians' superstition, Paul's persecution—aU are pardonable by this satisfaction. Whatsoever sin may be repented, may be remitted.

(4.) For subject, no sort of men excepted. ' The gi'acc of God brings salvation to all men,' Tit. ii. 11, that is, all sorts of men. The servant as well as the master ; the king in his robes, the beggar in rags ; rich Abraham and poor Lazarus; the commanding magistrate, the obeying subject; the bondman in fetters, the freeman in his liberties : ' There is neither Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, male nor female : for ye are all one m Christ Jesus,' Gal. iii. 28. There be distinctions of men : in respect of nation, some arc Jews, and some Gentiles ; in respect of condition, some are bond, and some free ; in regard of sex, some are male, some female ; yet all these are taken away in Christ, in whom all arc one.

There be foiu' times and regai'ds which take away all difference. 1. Sleep; wherein the wise man diflers not from the fool, the turbulent is as tame as the innocent, the lawyer is as silent as his paper. 2. Death, 7uors dominos servis: gentleman and labom^er, landlord and tenant, are distinctions upon the earth; in the earth, in the grave, there is no such distinction. The fairest lady makes no better dust than the Egyptian bondwoman; Menippus, there, cannot tell Mercmy which was Alexander and which the potter. All difl'erences are shuffled and tumbled together in the charnel-house. 3. The resurrection; those that lie in tombs and monuments rise no more gloriousl}' than such as slept in their forgotten sepulchres. The angel that calls us out of the dust will not stand to survey who Ues naked, who in a coffin ; who in wood, who in lead; who in a tine, who in a coarser, shroud. When that day comes, there is not a forenoon for lords to rise first, and an afternoon for meaner persons to rise afterwards. The groom must not stay for his master, nor the maiden wait to make ready her mistress. Indeed, ' the dead in Christ shall rise first,' the king's own servants be more gi-aced than the rest; yet these altogether. And for the wicked there shall not be such difl'erence in appearing as was in oflending; not such in their rismg as was in their lying down. 4. The redemption: Chi'ist was not only made poor to save the rich, but he will be also rich in mere}' to save the poor. He was not whipped to save beggars, and crowned with thorns to save kings ; he died, he suffered all for all. It was not one for one, nor one for many, but one for all. One for one had been well in tenns of equality; one for many in terms of equivalency ; ' thou art worth ten thousand of us,' say they to David ; but one for all, this one must needs bo of infinite price. Saint Paul useth aU these phi-ases ; sometimes, Christ gave himself * for you,' which is vox sjm, a word of hope ; sometimes * for me,' which is vox Jidei, a word of faith; sometimes * for us,' which is vox iinitatis, a word of unity; sometimes ' for all,' which is vox charitatis, a word of chaiity.

2. But are all men actually blessed by this covenant ? No ; for some men did not receive it, therefore were not blessed by it; some men did not believe it, therefore not received it; some did not know of it, therefore could not believe it; some never heard of it, therefore could not know it. All that called on the God of Israel were not the Israel of God, Rom, ix. 6. Though salvation were within that church, yet many ia that church were without salvation. ' But have they not all heard ?

Yes verily, their sound went into all the earth, and their words unto the ends of the world,' Horn. x. 18. ' Ye shall be witnesses unto me, both in Jerusalem, and unto the uttermost part of the earth,' Acts i. 8. Divers of the fathers thought that the apostles did actually and personally preach the gospel in all nations. And yet it may well appear that a great part of the world hath been discovered since, which neither professed nor knew Christ. When Augustus's decree went foi-th, that all the world should be taxed, this decree and tax went not to the Indies ; yea, it is likely that, in all the flourishing state of the Romans, that monarchy was not heard of to them. But, as in Moses' time, the Mediterranean sea was called the great sea, because it was the greatest which they had then seen : so in the apostles' time, that was called all the world which was then known and traded in. This covenant is not yet oflered to all men; it shall be before the world's end.

Now, even among those that have it, there is not to every one an efiec-tual success by it. Men may be within the covenant, and yet the covenant not be within them. By God's promise, it is necessary that every one that believes should be saved; but it is not necessary that every one that hears should believe. Salvation is offered to many that do not offer themselves to salvation. Some hear and believe not; many say they believe, and repent not. Thus the covenant lies by them, sealed on God's part in the sacrament of baptism ; but not sealed on their part by a required faith, and answerable life. In a covenant di-awn, there is no confirmation by seaHng on one side, if the other refuseth. Now, he that beUeves ' hath set to his seal,' John iii. 33 ; but he that believes not hath not sealed. So a man may live within the circumference of the gospel, and have no benefit by it-Canaan was a land flowing with milk and honey, yet a man might live in Canaan, and taste neither milk nor honey.

' I pray not for the world,' saith Christ, John xvii. 9. There be two main parts of his mediatorship—his redemption, and intercession. Now, he excludes the world from his intercession, therefore from his redemption : for whom he does not pray, he did not die : he did not open his side, if he will not open his mouth for them. Let not men bear themselves too bold upon their acquaintance with Christ, when their affection hes another way. Those merchants are blessed that sell all the world to buy Christ, not they that sell Christ to buy the world. This covenant is too good for them that shght it; and it is but a poor valuation to make it the best flower of our garland : but one among others, though a principal one. Nay, we have no flower, no garland, but that. The covenant of grace is all our tenure ; and as that assurance can never be taken fi-om them that have it, so there is nothing but woe to them that have it not.

3. The free mercy and good pleasm-e of God is the cause of this covenant. ' God did not choose you for your number,' or goodness ; ' but because he loved you,' saith Moses to Israel, Dent. vii. 8. The same may be said of all God's chosen: election hath no cause but dilection ; dilection hath no cause at all. To seek for a reason why God ' loved Jacob' before he was, is to search for the beginning of eternity. Why did God make the world ? Quia voliiit, because he would. Quare voluit ? Why would he ? An idle question. Why did God choose some men to life everlasting in Christ ? Quia dilexit: because he loved them. Why did he love them ? This is a vain Qucere: there is no cause of the first cause ; so high we can go, we dare not attempt higher. How comes it to pass, that we have wine and bread ? Because the earth yields us those fruits : ' the earth shall hear the corn and wine,' Hos. ii. 22. Why doth the earth afford

them ? Because the heavens give it their kindly influence : ' the lieavena shall hear the earth.' How doth the heavens impart this influence ? Because the Lord hath so ordained it: ' I will hear the heavens.' Thus far rehf^onsly ; hut why hath God ordained it ? To ask this is a presumptuous iblly. Christ * loved us, and gave himself for us,' Eph. v. 2 : he gave himself for us, because he loved us. Why did he love us ? There is no cause of that. We may as well seek for a place above heaven, or below the centre, as a cause beyond love. There must be no Quare, where can be given no Quia. 0 the bottomless depth of that love ! ' Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that God loved us,' 1 John iv. 10. Here is love indeed, as if all other love were not worth naming or mention, in respect of this. Thus Christ loved us, and ' gave himself a sacrifice for us.' There is nothing better than Clirist, nothing better in Christ than love, no love better than to give, no gift better than himself, no way to give himself better than in sacrifice. Other graces are spoken of God in oblique : God of mercy, God of peace, God of comfort ; but love absolutely, in abstracto, ' God is love.' Thus, the cause of all causes is the love of God.

4. The manner of conveying this to man is by promise ; so to our first parents he begun it, so to divers patriarchs he renewed it, so by his prophets he confirmed it, and at the coming of Chi'ist he performed it. We may conceive this done by way of contract and maniage : first God contracted his Son to our human nature, and then united it by a solemn marriage. This was no clandestine act done in a corner; but though a dispensation was granted firom the high court of faculties in heaven, yet Christ would have the banns openly published; and so they were at the least thrice. 1. In the church of paradise, when Satan flattered himself that he had subdued all mankind to his dition and command : even then a Redeemer was proclaimed, a husband promised, the ' seed of the woman.' This was the fii'st time of asking, and none forbade it. 2. In the church of patriarchs : ' Shiloh shall come, and gather the people to him,' Gen. xlix. 10 ; the Messiah shall be married to the chiirch. This was the second time of asking, and none forbade it. 3. In the church of the Jews, and that at so fomous a time, and in so great an assembly, when Ahaz was frighted with Syria and Israel, bending and banding their forces against him : ' Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel,' Isa. vii. 1-i ; which is interpreted by St Matthew, ' God ■with us,' the Son of God married to the nature of man. This was the third time of asking, and none forbade it.

Now, when our Saviour took flesh, they were espoused. It is our custom to publish this promise thrice before the mamagc, and once at the mamage. So was it here, John the Baptist being honoured to be the proclaimer of this blessed nuptials : * Behold the Lamb of God.' Now, the Lamb of God is espoused to the nature of man : the Lamb of God, of the parish of heaven, on the one part ; and the nature of man, of the parish of earth, on the other part. If any man, any creature, can shew any lawful cause why they may not be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace. There was no denial, but an universal acclamation fi'om heaven and earth. The angels and a multitude of the heavenly host, sang, ' Gloiy to God in the highest, on earth peace, good will toward men,' Luke ii. 14 ; so from heaven. ' Hosauna, blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord, hosanna in the highest,' Matt. xxi. 9 ; so from earth. As if heaven and earth had consented together in this marriage-song, ' God gave them joy.' The sanctuary wherein this

VOL.in. o

sacred knot was tied, was the body of the virgin Mary. This was that sanctified temple wherein the divine and human natures of Christ were married together.* He that took on him the office of the priest was the Holy Ghost. ' The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee,' Luke i, 35 : he did knit this knot.

This promise is thus performed; Christ is married to our nature. Yet doth not this bring all mankind within the covenant; because, though Christ partake the human nature of all men, yet all men do not partake the divine nature of Christ. Here must be a new contract, a new marriage. We must be ' one spirit' with him, as well as he is ' one flesh' with us, or we have no part in this covenant. Here the Holy Spirit doth a new office, and espouseth the believer to Christ, the wedding-ring being faith, the militant church the temple, the witnesses angels, the nuptial garment holiness of life, the duty of the wife to please her husband, the love of the husband to save his wife. This is the contract or espousals. The public and solemn marriage is to come. ' Blessed are they which are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb,' Rev. xix. 9. This is the true saying of God, this is his faithful promise; such shall be his gracious performance. 0, the royal apparel, sumptuous cheer, unspeakable joy, at this feast, where the parlour is heaven, the cates glory and peace, and the music a choir of angels!

5. The instrument of this covenant is the gospel; it is registered in the Scriptures, and kept upon eternal record in heaven. This is the tenure we hold by, our letters patent from heaven: the Old Testament from Mount Horeb, sealed with the blood of goats; the New Testament from Mount Zion, sealed with the blood of the Lamb. The one promising and prefiguring, the other performing and exhibiting, this reconciliation. Therefore Christ, immediately before his death, fu-st celebrated the passover, then instituted his supper; first ending the law, then beginning the gospel. The law and the gospel, like Jacob and Esau, had both one Father; yet how they differ. Esau hath the right of nature, the law was elder; Jacob hath the right of gi-ace, the gospel is sweeter. Yet, Jacob's hand was bom before Esau's heel. Gen xxv. 26; a beam of the gospel shone in paradise, before the written law came from the mount. Esau was rough and hairy; the law is full of terror: Jacob smooth and mild; the gospel full of beauty. Jacob and Esau strove in the womb, and began their war betimes; the law and the gospel are at strife in the Christian, and when God actually enters us into this covenant we begin this combat. The law comes in puffing, like Esau, in hope of the blessing; but the gospel, like Jacob, goes away full of the blessing. The law, like Esau, is full of tears; the gospel, like Jacob, replenished with joy. Thus under the law the covenants were drawn; by the gospel the deed is sealed. They expected it, we have it; they looked for it, we look upon it. As when the Israelitish spies had cut down a branch of grapes, and * bare it between two on a stafi"' upon their shoulders, Num. xiii. 23, he that went before knew he had it, but he that came after saw it.

Now, eveiy man looiirf well to his deeds and assurance. How should we prize and preserve this covenant! How dear should the gospel be unto us! Yet, alas! there be too many that value it below the least trifle they affect. They will not forbear the least sin it forbids, nor yield the least duty it requires, nor do the least action it commands. It speaks to the covetous, Leave ofi" thy worldliness; seek riches in me. No; the fool and his counters must not part so. Yield me some of thy estate in charity to

* Aug.

the poor, in equity to the clmrch. No; fjospel, I thank you, I will not buy you so dour! Thus they look to have the iiiheritauco, yet despise the conveyance.

The least sentence of this charter, the least line of a sentence, the least word of a line, the least letter of a word, is worthy to be written in gold, and worn about the necks of Christians as their only glory. Honour should be given to the meanest servant it hath, to the lowest part of the lowest servant. Qiiam speciosi pedes, ' How beautiful are the very feet of them that bring this tidings?' ' Blessed bo the Lord that sent thee, and blessed be thou that hast kept mo from shedding blood,' saith David to Abigail, 1 Sam. XXV. 33. Not only God, but even the minister is blessed in some sort that doeth good. Perhaps we cannot trim it up curiously enough for this choice age. The wits do not like it; men in whom wit hath given honesty the checkmate. But will a man refuse a diamond because it is not curiously set, or a malefactor reject his pardon because it is not eloquently wTitteu'? If Elias be hungry, he will not despise the meat that is brought by a homely messenger. Lideed, he that teaches good and does good marries the graces and muses. But the gospel is the gospel; and w'hosoever brings it, the good heart will thankfully receive it. There is sweetness in flowers, though some smell it not; there is light in the sun, though the blind see it not; there is heat in fii-e, though the dead feel it not. Observe them that do cai'efully seek it. Sure if there was not some goodness in it they would not so love it as not to value their Uves in regard of it. The countryman knows not the price of a jewel, therefore stands by the buyer and the seller, hears what the chapman bids and what the merchant refuseth; so he gets it. You will say that it is an occasion to make some men worse. It is true of one and the same word that it hath diflerent eflects, in heartening the good to the service of Christ, and hardening the wicked in the service of Satan. But still itself is blessed and good. If the sun cause a stench, it is a sign that there is some dunghill nigh; if it reflect on a bed of roses, there is sweetness. We have cause to honoiu' that which doth honom* us; cause to cherish that which doth enrich us; cause, if need require, even to die for that which gives us eternal life. 0, let us bless it, and bless God for it, that we may all be blessed by it, through the foundation of it, which is—

Jesus. —Such is our Saviour's first title. ' I believe in Jesus,' without whom we had never known God our friend, and God would never have known us for other than his enemies. I wnll not dispute whether he could not have received us again to favour by some nearer and easier way than for his own Son to be humanified, and being man to be crucified. Aliter potuit ac voluit; he is not boimd to give us any reason for what he does, we are bound to thank him for what he hath done. I have read many curious obserA'ations concerning the name Jesiis.-^ Some of the first letter, which, among the Hebrews and Greeks, in sua fjente denarii numeri nota est. Some of the five letters, some of the three vowels, some of the two syllables, in which superfluous descant they lose the sweetness, as by too afiected diflu-sion some fingers lose the note. Yet herein they come short of the monks and friars in their conceits of the word Maria ; they have so tossed it and turned it, so anagrammatized and transposed it, that never were five poor letters so won-ied since time did put them into the alphabet. They have made a goddess of her person, but a martyr of her name. They story to us how one was saved by only learning her name. His devout schoolmaster would have taught him the whole salutation, but the dull scholar only

• Beda.

attained the first two words, Ave Maria, and could never come to Ch-atia j)lena. He died, and upon the top of his grave grew out a fair flower, whose leaves were natm-al characters of those two words, Ave Maria; and the wonder being searched, they dig into his grave, and find this flower to spring out of his mouth. Let him beHeve it that hath a faith of that size. But our salvation does not consist in syllables; it is the sense, not the sound, of Jesus that saves us. We acknowledge brevitatem in nomine, im-mensitatem in virtute. The argument of this discourse I take from Matt. i. ^1. ' Thou shalt call his name Jesus; for he shall save his people fi*om their sins.' Wherein observe,

1. The imposition of a name, * Thou shalt call his name Jesus;' and, 2. The exposition of that name, * for he shall save his people.'

1. Jesus. —This name was not invented but accepted by Joseph, brought by the angel, sent by God himself. Before that heavenly embassage little did Joseph conceive in his mind what Mary had conceived in her womb. He would hardly have thought of a name expressive enough of so great a person. God informs him what, and he performs that, calling him Jesus, therein acknowledging his reputed Son to be his true Saviour, and him that took flesh of his wife to be the God of all the world. Though we place not religion in names and titles, yet the wiser devotion is deliberate in this holy action. Fu'st, it is not safe to be ambitious of high titles, especially let us not arrogate the appellations of God. Some call their sons Emmanuel: this is too bold. The name is proper to Christ, therefore not to be communicated to any creature. It is no less than presumption to give a subject's son the style of his prince. Yea, it seems to me not fit for Christian humility to call a man Gabriel or Michael, giving the names of angels to the sons of mortahty.

On the other side, it is a petulant absurdity to give them ridiculous names, the very rehearsing whereof causeth laughter. There be certain afiectate names which mistaken zealchooseth for honour, but the event discovers a proud singularity. It was the speech of a famous prophet, Non sum melior patribiis meis, ' I am no better than my fathers;' but such a man will be sajnentior patribiis suis, wiser than his fathers; as if they would tie the goodness of the person to the signification of the name. But stfll a man is what he is, not what he is called; he were the same, with or without that title, or that name. And we have known Williams and Richards, names not found in sacred story, but familiar to om- country, prove as gracious saints as any Safe deliverance, Fight the goodjight of faith, or such like ; which have been rather descriptions than names.

The name is given at our holy baptism, in the awful presence of God, of the blessed angels, of miUtant saints, at the child's admission into the church ; ' In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.' All which should fill our mouths with sobriety, our hearts with reverence. The end of giving names (besides the main, which was for distinction) was either: (1.) For the memory of some good past; so Jacob was called Israel, because he prevailed with God. So Moses, which signifies ' drawn up,' Exod. ii. 10. The occurrent begets praise; so the goodness of ancestors is revived by giving their names to posterity. This they objected to Zachariah calling his son John ; ' There is none of thy kindred called by this name,' Luke i. 61; intimating that the memoiy of progenitors should be preserved in their names. (2.) For the mention of good present; as John, the grace of God, because he was sanctified in the womb. Or for evil present, as Rachel's Benoni, Phinehas' wife's Ichabod; Adam, red earth. (3.) For the presage of some good to come; as Abraham receives an enlarged name.

because God meant to enlar<7e his family. Or for evil to come ; as Lo-ruhamali, one that Lath not obtained mercy, llos. i. 0. Here God, as he extraordinarily created the nature, immediately imposed the name. God is the Father of his person, and he is the Godfather of his nature; * Call his name Jesus.'

Jesus is a name of great honour. Nonten Jesu prccdiccUiim hicet, recopita-tum pascit, in»ocalum salrat.^ God gave him ' a name above all names ;' it was not enough to exalt his person, but also his name. What is his nativity without an epiphany ? Why are things exalted, but that they may be in view and apparent! so was the brazen seipent lifted up. Kings are so high, that upon earth they cannot be higher ; there is no way left to exalt them but this, to spread abroad their names. What name was this ? one among the famous names of men? No; super, above them all. Above aU names ! What, above the name of God ? We might say, ' He that did put aU things under him, is himself excepted,' 1 Cor. xv. 27. God gave him a name above aU names, except his own.' But indeed, this is one of God's own names. ' I am a Saviom-,' Isa. xhii. 11. How is it then given him, when he had it before ? Accipit ut homo, quod hahehat ut Deus: He received that as a man, which was his own as God; he took with his nature iiis name, and the chief of all his names, the name of a sa\iour.

Jesus, a principal name, both in regard of God, and of us. (1.) For God, though many titles of the Deity sound and seem to be more glorious, yet he esteems none of them like this. They have in them more power and majesty, but not so much mercy, not so much of that wherein God delights to bo magnified above all his works; and indeed the greater mercy, the greater glory, 2 Cor. iii. 9. We read among those atti-ibutes of God (Exod. xxxiv. 6), one of his power, two of his justice, but many of his mercy. Other titles had not us men, and our salvation in them; therefore he sets by no name like that, wherein with his glory is joined our safety. It is not so much for his own sake, that he so highly esteems it, but for us ; he had lost nothing, though we had lost ourselves. How should we esteem of him, that esteems of this name above all names for om* sakes !

But howsoever it be to him, sure it is to us most dear and precious; we have no other name to hold by. Acts iv. 12. Without Jesus, God had been an enemy to us, therefore to us it is more sweet than all the titles of God. There is goodness and greatness enough in the name Jehovah ; but we merited so httle good, and demerited so much evil, that in it there had been small comfoi*t for us. But with the name Jesus, there is comfort in the name of God ; without it, none. It is to us more useful than all; in the depths of all distresses, when the body and soul can scarce hang together, the one vexed with sickness, the other pei-plexed with conscience, how do we then implore him ? We beseech his mercy by the nsime of Jesus, even adjure him by that, to make good his own name, not to bear it for nought; but as he is a Sa\'iour, so to save us. This is our comfort, that God will never so remember our wretched sins, as to forget his o^\•u blessed name. But that as of all other he most loves it, so of aU other he will least forget it. That he will interpose Jesus whom he loves, betwixt his wTath and our sins, which he hates. Thus, as suprema lex, solus, so supreinum nomen, Jesus ; the highest, the sweetest, the dearest to us of all the names of God, is the name Jesus.

2. ' For he shall save his people from their sins.' The name itself, we hear, is honom-able for its author ; God gave it; honourable for its nature,

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God loves it; now it is also honourable for its effect, it ' saves us from our sins.' In this exposition be three particulars. (1.) What he shall do ; ' Save.' (2.) Whom he shall save ; ' His people.' (3.) From what he shall save them ; ' From their sins.' Save. —(1.) First, he shall save. Was he for this called Jesus ? Why there have been many Jesuses, many saviours, Heb. iv. 8. Others had this name besides him, and before him. Jesus the worthy, Jesus the high priest, Hagg. i. 1; to say nothing of Jesus the son of Sirach. It is true they had it, but not given them by God; they had men to their godfathers. But here the name is ordained by God, in the mouth of an angel. There is now a sect or society of Jesus, Jesuits ; but this name was not given them by an angel, nor by their godfather, but by themselves, They gave themselves the name, God never gave it them. Whether they mean themselves the servants of Jesus, so are we all by profession; or the brethren of Jesus, so are all Chi'istians by adoption ; or the fellows of Jesus, as if he had been the founder of their order, and head of their college, I know not. But sure there is no man so unlike to Jesus as the Jesuit. They affect also another name, disciples ; it is hard to judge in whether of them there is more ambition. Jesus was regular and ' obedient to the death;' no order in the world is so full of disorder, disobedience, and irregularity, as the Jesuits. Jesus paid tribute and honour to kings, Jesuits decrown them. Jesus was harmless, without fraud, ' neither was guile found in his mouth;' the Jesuit, where he is free, wears a mask upon his heart; where he is not free, he shifts it, and puts it upon his face. His equivocations, his perjm'ies, his regicides, witness his simplicity. They can no ways challenge this name, but by the contrary ; as mons a non movendo, lucus a -non luceiido, so Jesuita a Jesum persequendo. For the other Jesuses, they had all need, and were glad to lay hold on the skirts of this Jesus, Zach. viii. 23 ; as on him alone that was able to save them, otherwise they had been falsely so named, lost men all. Therefore they are willing to resign it up to him, that he may bear it with a main difference from them all.

For saviours, other things, indeed, have been so called, Obad. ver. 21. Baptism is said to ' save us,' but no otherwise than as it represents the blood of this Jesus that doth save us, inwardly baptizing our souls. It is the King's broad seal; it is the liing that grants the tenure, the writing doth but convey, the seal doth but confirm it. Ministers are called saviours. ' Save thyself and others,' saith Paul to Timothy, 1 Tim. iv. 16. Much is ascribed to the instrument, that belongs to the agent, James v. 20. So they are said to ' turn hearts,' Luke i. 16, and make ' men righteous,' Dan. xii. 3, yet God only justifieth; and ' Tm-n us, 0 Lord,' or we shall never be turned. He bids Ezekiel raise up dry bones, Ezek. xxxvii. 9. We can as well raise the dead as save souls. But the wind comes, the Holy Spirit of God does it. We thrust away all honour with both hands. ' Not unto us, 0 Lord, but to thy name Jesus give the glory.' The Father saves, and the Holy Ghost saves ; but Christ alone paid the price of our salvation. This was the ' end of his coming,' Luke xix. 10, this the meaning of his name. Superstition would have the very letters of Jesus, though pronounced by a faithless tongue, drive out foul spirits. But to expect this from the mere sound of two syllables, is to change the name of salvation into a charm of conjuration. Rome may attribute too much to the name, but I am sure they give too little to Jesus himself. For aU that is sacrilegiously detracted from him, which is superstitiously given to saint, angel^

man, work, merit, or any creature. Against all sncli self-cozened and self-condemned idolaters, his jealousy shall one day hreak out like tiro, and say, AVhat have I to do with you '? If you can do all, or aught at all without me, then let me alone. Let me be either saviom- alone, mediator alone, all in all, or none at all. But let their saviours be according to the number of their cities. We have one for all, one above all, one that is all in all, and let us never think of any at all but this blessed Jesus.

(2.) Not all people, but his. Caput est corporis sid, von alieni, another's body cannot hve by thy soul; aniwat suum. The shepherd keeps his own flock, the master provides for his o^vn family. I'ut how could thev be called his people before he had'redeemed them? Well enough. Before all time they were his by election; in the fulness of time they are made his by redemption. They were his before ex consilio cordis; now his, ejc pretio mnrfui)iis. All are not his. Suum is a possessive and peculiar. Mine is the speech of a proprietary. Mi/ house, mt/ land, ))ij/ child, these be proper to me, not common to all. If all people were saved by him, how is he called the Saviom- ' of his people ?' If he be a Jesus to all, to whom shall he be a judge ? If all be saved by him, how shall he condemn any 7 Why should the kindreds of the earth mourn at his coming, and wish the mountains to hide them from his face ? It will be said, because they believe not. Belike, then, man's will must overrule God's will, whereas it is the common rule of Scripture and nature that actus primer causer ordinnt actum secundcc causce. The sun rules the season, the season doth not govern the sun. We are therefore good because God hath chosen us. He did not therefore choose us because we would be good.

He ' saves his people,' his people keep his laws, his laws are faith and obedience. Faith and obedience are not in the wicked, therefore they break his laws. They break his laws, therefore are not his people. They are not his people, therefore he doth not save them. If reprobates could here find an evasion, thei'e might be some hope of their salvation. Men are deceived to think, when they lose themselves, that God losetli anything by them. "What prejudice is done to the sun when a scornful eye refuseth to look upon him ? Take a branch from the tree, it bears fruit still. Cut otf a channel fi-om the sea, it misseth it not. Clu*ist hath no loss though men fall awa3\ Therefore, qui vult vixere in capite, oportet esse de corpore, we must be his people, of his church, if we will be saved. Unrelenting sinners have no more portion in Christ than dogs have in the bread of children.

(3.) Why only from sin ? It had been acceptalile enough to save ns from poverty. How welcome is that fleet which brings in gold enough to make us all rich! or to save us from our enemies, and the merciless hand of war ! How welcome was this Christ in '88, when he spoiled that horned crescent, and drowned their new moon in the old sea ! At other times the moon rules the sea, but here the sea became too hard for the moon. Or to save us from famine, how welcome is bread to the h^ingiy! Such tidings to fixmished Samaritans savoured sweetly even from the mouths of lepers, 2 Kings vii. Or to save us from a raging pestilence, how welcome is that wind which can cleanse our infected air, and blow away the plagiie ! Oi to save us from death—divers diseases are veiy painful, but death is fearful ; nature will endm-e much ere it yield to die—how welcome is that doctor who, shewing his vial, says, This shall cm'e you! But ' from sin ?' This is a thing that most make least account of; nothing troubles them less than their sins. A wreck at sea, a cross on land, a suit at law, put men

out of patience, distraction hath a thousand ways to mar their peace ; but who break their sleeps for their sins ? Doth extortion trouble the usurer ? wantonness the adulterer ? lying the flatterer ? sacrilege the tithe-lurcher ? a painted image the juggling idolater ? Alas ! save them from their sins, and they think you take away their best fiiends. No saving match they hold it, unless they may save by it. Oh, it is a desperate resolution for men not to know what sin is till they know it too late, and understand it in unquenchable fire. If a man had such sense beforehand, and all the corporal plagues that ever flesh and blood groaned under in this world, and the full pimishment of one sin, were put to his choice; rather than answer for one sin, he would offer himself to all those pains.

By this time we begin to perceive what it is from which he saves us, sin. Indeed, what else could hm't us ? What is poverty, but the want of a httle luggage ? Doth the horse think himself the better for the hampers on his back ? Take away sin, there is no man poor. Sin makes beggars, as beggars make sin. What is ignominy without sin ? The world's obloquy is the honour of innocency. How did all the reproaches of Christ tm-n to his gloiy ! When the sinner revileth the righteous, he throws dust at his enemy, which the wind drives back in his own face; or like a mastiff", ill set on, that recoils on his owner's throat. There is no shame but sin. As poverty is but the want of a little ballast, so contempt but the lack of a little sail. How weak a thing is the strongest adversary, while our sin is not his second! Nothing can make us penetrable but sin. Saul fell on the mountains of Gilboa, not by the sword of a Philistine, but by his own sin. None could wound him till sin had fii'st disarmed him. It is the corruption and stench of sin that breeds the plague, and all those pestilential tokens are but the tokens of sin. It is the fulness of sin that brings scarcity of bread. The bondage of service comes from the bondage of sin. Paradise itself were but a prison with sin, and the prison is a paradise without sin. Death should never have been at all, should not now be painful, but for sin. * The sting of death is sin.' Take out the sting, you may put the serpent in your bosom. When the bee hath lost his sting in my hand, he may play with mine eye-lid, and do me no harm. All these are but the eflects and wages of sin; therefore tolle peccatum, tolle omne vialum, take away sin, and there remains no e^il.

But the devil is om* malicious adversary ; give him but leave, and he will not leave one man alive. Hell is a dismal place, unquenchable fire is an inconceivable pain. Why is not Jesus said to save us from these, but from sins ? Alas ! all these shall never do us harm without our sins. Sin first kindled the fire of hell, sin fuels it. Take away sin, that tonnenting flame goes out. And for the devil, sin is his instrument whereby he works all mischief. By the sin which he finds in us, he brings more sin upon us ; so that to take away our sins is to disappoint his hopes. Intra te est, quod contra te est* As Sennacherib was punished by his own bowels, so the sin within us brings all woe upon us. Any man thinks it base to be a slave's slave, but it is only sin that makes man a slave to Satan. But for sin the devil had no business in the world, but must go home, save his breath to cool his torment, and make himself merry with his own fire.

What abundance of benefits are here in one word. There is no evil incident to man, but it ceaseth to be e\il when sin is gone. Blessings fall down like gracious showers ; but if they Hght upon a bad and ill-disposed ground, if sin be there still raging and reigning, nothing rises but weeds and

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such noxious things. So that when Jesus takes away sins, he doth bless our very blessings, and sanctify our alUictions. He fetcheth peace out of trouble, riches out of poverty, honour out of contempt, Hberty out of bondage ; pulls out the sting of death, puts out the fire of hell. Which should dii'ect our estimate of sin, to think worse of it than of its punisliment ; worse than of Satan, of death, of hell; for these are but the instruments of justice, an executioner, a jail, a gibbet. It is only sin that sets them on work, that brings a malefactor to the bar, from whence these wait to receive him. So that they are all wrapt up in sin, and he that saves us from sin, saves us from all these. Were there no death, no torment, no plague, we should hate sin for its own sake. Could it be granted to the saints and angels in heaven to sin, they would abhor it. Thus should it be, thus let it be, on earth.

Duti/ 1. We learn to hold this name in high respect and reverence. Did he take this name for our sakes, and shall not we honour this name for his sake ? The heart is indeed primum mobile, but that queen walks not abroad without her train. This God requires principally, but not only ; nothing can please him without it, yet that alone cannot do it. He hath created corporal organs to express without the mental devotion that is within. We must ' worship, and bow down, and kneel before the Lord our Maker,' Ps. scv. 6. We begin our htm-gy with this invitation. Shall we ever say it, and never do it ? How ready be the Roman knees to bow to their Baals, which God hath forbidden ! How stifi" be ours to bow to Jesus, which he hath commanded ! God hath bound this duty by an oath, shall we offer to make him forsworn ? Ilom. xiv. 11; giving him no more reverence than the seats that hold us. Not that this is required to the sound, but to the sense ; heai'ing his name, let us have mind on him. It is the signification, not the pronunciation, that requires our reverence.

The novelist objects, that spii-its, as well as men, are commanded to bow to the name of Jesus, Phil. ii. 10. Now, they have no knees. A reverend prelate answers. What is that to us ? we have. They have their peculiar ways, which we cannot conceive, otherwise than by these gestures familiar to ourselves. They do it their ways, let us do it ours ; look we to om* own duties, and not trouble our brains about theirs. To us hath God spoken it, and oS. us he requires it. But this form hath been supei'stitiously abused. So hath every sacred thing in religion. Shall we pull down our churches, because mass hath been said in them ? or take joined stools instead of pulpits, because in these false doctrine hath been preached ? There is some superstition left in many hearers, idolising their own preachers ; shall we, therefore, hear no sermon ? In us there may be superstition ; there is none in that which God commands.

But why not all this reverence to the name Christ, as well as Jems ? (1.) CItri.'it is not the name of God; God cannot be anointed ; but Jesus is the name of God, and that wherein he principally delights. (2.) Christ is communicated to others ; princes are called Christs ; but Jesus is proper to him ; there is no Sa^^our but he. (3.) Christ is anointed ; to v.'hat end? To be a Sa^•iour. Jesus is therefore the end, and the end is always above the means. The name of health is above the name of any medicine. He is high to whose person we bow, but he far higher whose veiy name exacts our reverence. Our Saviour's person is in heaven, but his blessed name he hath left upon earth. WTiat intei'est have we in himself, if his name finds not reverence in our hearts ? If the Icnee will not bow, it may be smitten, that it cannot bow; and the tongue that will not confess, may become speechless. And that name, to which men will do no honour, may

prove comfortless to them -when they have most need of it. Therefore, let us do reverence to the name of Jesus while we live, that we may find comfort in the name of Jesus when we die.

Duty 2. This holy and happy name, Jesus, teacheth us that we were utterly lost in om'selves, Matt, xviii. 11 ; for if we had kept our first standing, there had been no need of a Jesus. So that in our own sense and feeling, we must be men forlorn, if we will have Jesus to save us. If our wounds do not smart, who shall bind them up ? Luke x. 34. Many talk of Jesus that do not truly feel the want of him. Matt. ix. 12. He came to save sinners. Why, all are sinners ; what, then, to save all ? No ; but sinners in sense and conscience, that mourn for their sins, and gi-oan to be delivered ; that find sin their torment, not that make it their sport; that be ' braised and broken-hearted,' Luke iv. 18 ; these be the sinners that Jesus is sent unto, and singles out. He gives his riches to the poor that want it, not to the rich, that scorn it. As repentance breaks the strong heart, so he heals the broken heart. To the captives he gives deliverance, while libertines are reserved for vengeance. They that think they see, must remain still blind; they complain their own blindness, whom he makes to see. It is the storm of despair, the sense of anguish, that makes men cry, * Lord save us, we perish,' Matt. viii. 25.

A formal acknowledgment of Jesus is common ; but how is a physician known and approved, but by a fi-equent resort of patients ? In the days of his mortal flesh, to cure their bodily diseases, how did they flock to him from all coasts ? Yet he came not so much to heal the body, as to save the soul. When that bed-rid wretch offered himself to the new-stirred waters, still somebody stepped in before him, John v. 7. But whensoever we seek Christ, none shall thrust us by, none step before us. Never any man wanted mercy, that humbly and faithfully sought to Jesus for it.

Conclusion. —This is that Jesus, the Son of God's love, the author of our salvation ; ' in whom alone he is well pleased.' It is true that many worthy saints have been somebodies with God. He was pleased with Enoch ; so did he grace that saint, that he 'walked with God,' and God walked with him. He was pleased with Noah, fi-om whose sacrifice he ' smelt a savour of rest.' He was pleased with Abraham, who was called the ' fi-iend of God.' He was pleased with Jacob, surnamed Israel, a potent ' prince with God.' He was pleased with Moses, a faithful steward in his house. He was pleased with Samuel; in so much, that they who rejected him, are said to reject God himself. He was pleased with David, called ' a man after God's own heart.' Pleased with Solomon, whom he crowned with wisdom and honour. Pleased with Elijah, whom he took up in a glorious chariot to heaven. He was pleased with Josiah, with whom, for piety, no king before him, or after him, might be compared. Pleased with Daniel, calliag himself the ' God of Daniel;' ' though Noah, Samuel, and Daniel' should plead for the people, to shew that they were prevailing favourites with God, and could do something with him. He was pleased with Mary, the virgin-mother; ' she found grace with him,' and was honoured to bear his Son. Pleased with Mary Magdalene ; sent her as an apostle to the apostles ; yea, Christ appeared to her first, after his resurrection. He was pleased with Paul, whom he rapt up to the third heaven. He was pleased with many martyrs, that sealed his truth with their blood. Pleased with many confessors, with many men, many women, whose names he wrote in the book of life, and whose souls he took up to heaven. But pleased with all these only in Jesus; through and for the sake of the Messiah, the heir, the son of

his desires and good pleasure, in whom ho hath heaped up the fulness of grace, and treasures of all perfection. Thus God accepts many gracious works and virtues at our unworthy hands. The piety of Abel was accepted, the meelmess of Moses accepted, the faith of Abraham was accepted ; the zeal of Phiuehas, the justice of Solomon, the patience of Job, the humihty of Paul, all were accepted ; all the good works of faithful Christians are accepted ; but all are accepted * in the beloved.' Still it is in Jesus that God is pleased wnth us, and with what wo do. Both our graces, our virtues, our works, our selves, are accepted for his sake ; in whom God is pleased with us all, our blessed Jesus.

Christ. —This is the second title, which some take for his surname; others say, it is no name at all, but a mere appellation, as for a particular man, besides his own name, to have the addition of lord, duke, peer, or prince. But, indeed, it is the name of his office, expressing that in significance, which himself was in substance, ' the anointed of God' for the world's redemption.

Three orders of men among the Jews were anointed with holy oil. Kings, at their coronation ; so was David. Priests, at their consecration ; this began with Aaron and his sons, but afterwards was not used except to the high priest alone. Prophets, at their mission, as was Elisha. This was figurative of Christ's unction, who was to be a king, a priest, and a prophet. Not that this was done with material oil, but with gi'ace, the oil of gladness, and that ' above his fellows,' Ps. xlv. 7; neither w-as king, priest, or prophet, anointed in that manner and measure that Christ was. Two of these offices have fallen upon divers ; all three were never coincident to any one man, but Christ. Samuel was a priest and a prophet, but he w\as not a king. Da\id was a prophet and a king, but he was not a priest. Melchizedec was a king, and a priest, but not a prophet. Only Christ was all; priest, prophet, and king. David was thrice anointed, once in Bethlehem, and twice in Hebron; the Son of David was anointed. (1.) In his mother's womb, furnished with graces for so high a calhng. (2.) In his baptism, when the Holy Ghost came upon him in a visible form. (3.) In his resurrection, when all power was given him in heaven and earth. Or, if but once anointed, yet to three several offices.

Christ's anointing differs fi'om all others. (1.) For the matter ; they with oil, he with grace; that was oleum consecration, this oleum consecrans. (2.) For the author ; that oil was poured on by man, but with the appointment of God: this was infused by God himself immediately, without the ministry of man ; ' Him hath God the Father sealed,' John vi. 27. The excellent graces which are in Christ's manhood, have their beginning from Godhead. (3.) For the measure; angels and saints are glorious creatures, stored with rich treasures of grace; but all come short of Chi-ist, both in measure, number, and degree. For ' God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto him,' John iii. 34. They have plenitudinem sufficienti(t, he super-abundanticB. He is every way the most principal and glorious man that ever was. Yet are not the graces of his manhood infinite, because the nature itself is definite. They are infinite in the deity, finite in the humanity, of the same Christ. (4.) For the effect; theii' oil was limited to their own persons, it had no virtue to work upon others. But Christ's grace is so diffusive of itself, that it derives hohness to us, ' running down from the head to the skirts,' Ps. cxxxiii. 2, to all his members. He was not only anointed himself, but our anointer. Therefore it is called ' the oil of glailness,' because it rejoiceth our hearts, by giving us spiritual gladness, and peace of conscience.

There is unguentum prceparativum, wlierewith the impostumed member is fomented, suppUed, and prepared for lancing. Unguentum refectivum, oil that makes a ' cheerful countenance.' Unguentum sanativiini, such oil as the good Samaritan poured into the wounds of the robbed traveller. Unguentum consecrativum, with which kings are confinned in their thrones. Unguentum odonfenim, which fills the room with a fragrant smell; such was Mary's, that perfumed the house, John xii. 3. With the first, Christ was prepared for the sacrifice, to be lanced on the cross, for the letting out of our corruption. With the second in his baptism or transfigui-ation, when that divine testimony cheered his human heart, ' This is my beloved Son.' With the third in the grave, to heal the wounds which death hath made in his body. With the fourth in his resurrection, when he was made higher than the kings of the earth. After his ascension, he sent down the Holy Ghost with that odoriferous oil, the efiect of the former, to fill his church with that blessed sweetness. The holy oil was compounded of earthly ingredients, myrrh, calamus, cassia, and the like, Exod. xxx.; so the gi-aces of Christ's manhood were not the essential properties of his godhead, but certain created gifts and qualities, otherwise our nature could not have been capable of their participation. As that oil did sweeten the place where it was opened, so doth the grace of Christ drive away from the nostrils of God the noisome savour of our sins, and so perfumes us with his righteousness, that both our persons and holy actions become acceptable to him. Thus in general, now let us particularly meditate on his threefold office.

1. He was anointed to be our priest, to ofier up that propitiatory, expiatory sacrifice for all our sins. Legal priests oflered many sacrifices, the Lamb of God was ofiered up once for all. They sacrificed not themselves, but for themselves and the people ; Christ sacrificed himself, not for himself, but for the people. But of this sacrifice more hereafter. Now the communication of that holy oil hath made us all priests, and we have also our sacrifices.

(1.) A holy life. ' Offer to God the sacrifice of righteousness,' Ps. iv. 6. Let thy heart be the altar, the fire chanty, the hand faith, the knife that ' sword of the Spu'it;' make a whole bm-nt-ofiering of thy sins; let not a loose thought, nor a straggling desire, escape this holy combustion. Then ofier up the rest to his service. Christ gave his whole self for thee, give thy whole self to Christ. The Levitical sacrifice was to be without blemish, how much more the evangelical'? If Cain had offered himself when he sacrificed his beast,* he had been accepted of God.

(2.) Prayer. ' Let my prayer come before thee as incense, and the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice,' Ps. cxli. 2. This should be om* daily service, as a lamb was offered up morning and evening for a sacrifice. But, alas! how dull and dead are our devotions ! Like Pharaoh's chariots, they drive on heavily. Some, like Balaam's ass, scarce ever open their mouths twice. We should ' pour forth our souls' in prayer, as if our souls did strive with our prayers, which should come first unto God; as Ahimaaz ran with Cushi, who should come first to David. We cannot look for a blessing without prayer, we cannot pray faithfully without a blessing.

(3.) Thanksgiving. ' Whoso oflereth me praise honoureth me,' Ps. 1. 23. * Offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to his name,' Heb. xiii. 15. These be the ' odom'S in the vials of the saints,' Rev. v. 8. But, alas ! we esteem our blessings as Solomon did the brass given to the temple ; it was so much that he never stood to weigh * Katber, " and sacrificed his beast."— Ed.

it: tlioy arc so common, we forget to ralue thom. The Run draws up clouds, and they give us showers: yet often hide that sun from us which drew them up for us. The Lord gives us blessings, and they give us sweet refreshings ; but take we heed lest they hide our God from us. Christ's bounty j^erit hujrnto, but then peril imjratxis: the unthankful man loscth it, but then ho loseth himself with it. This is a sacrifice that shall never cease ; after this world we need not pray, nor beg good things of God, for we shall have more than heart can wish; yet even then we shall laud and praise him for ever.

(4.) The fruits of charity, which the apostle calls an ' odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well pleasing to God,' Phil. iv. 18. • Forget not to do good, and to communicate: for with such sacrifices God is well pleased,' Heb. xiii. 16. Superflua diviti, necesmriapnuperi; qui Imc retinet, detinet alienn. The best grace after dinner is to give the reversion to the poor. By this men may know whether they have sacrificed themselves to God or no; for he that hath given the jewel will never stick at the box. Nee des tua, et detineas te; nee des te, et detineas tun. Give not to the Lord thy goods, withholding thyself; nor give him thyself, withholding thy goods. But many, instead of filUng the hands of the poor with these sacrifices, do fiill their own hands with the sacrifices of the poor. So, while they should ofier to God the sacrifice of a charitable devotion, they ofi'er to the devil the sacrifice of unjust oppression. Popish priests turn the niins of the poor to the church; our sacrilegers tm-n the ruins of the church to themselves. ' With such sacrifices God is not pleased.'

(5.) Repentance. ' The sacrifice of God is a contrite spmt, a broken heart he will not despise,' Ps. li. 17. If mart}Tdom do not call us to sacrifice our bloods, yet let contrition work us to sacrifice our tears. The sacrifice could not be ofiered, but it must bleed ; Christ in his sacrifice was slain for us ; nothing in our sacrifice is to be slain but our sins. ' Mortify your earthly members,' Col. iii. 5, your lusts. There is one mortification to cast oui-selves out of the world, there is another mortification to cast the world out of us ; the former is detestable, the other necessary. We must all, with Jacob, first marry Leah, ' blear-eyed' repentance, before we can have beauteous Rachel, peace of conscience. These be the Christian sacrifices.

2. He was anointed to be our prophet. He is that wisdom of the Father; teaching by his oracles, convincing by his miracles, performing the will of God, and informing us. Wisdom indeed; not only according to his nature and eternal generation, the inward and essential Word; but also in regard of his prophetical office, sweetly disposing the ways of man's salvation. 'In him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,' Col. ii. 3: the fountain of all spiritual understanding, as all the senses are in the head. Thus was he anointed to teach us; he was always a preacher; lining, he took all occasions to instruct them that were to instruct his flock. Dying, FAiam crux Christi pendentix, cathedra fuit docentis.*- Sometimes a mountain, sometimes a ship, and last of all the cross, was his pulpit.

But now are we instructed by this prophet ? hath this wisdom made us wise ? ' This is eternal hfe, to know God, and whom he hath sent, Jesus Christ,' John xvii. 3. Here is wisdom above wisdom : he that knows this, with experimental feeling, knows all. He is wise that knows things in their proper nature and causes ; but he that knows wisdom itself, which is Christ, is not only wise but blessed. 0 that I had so deep an insight in

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this divine wisdom, that I could Hmn it out to you in its trae beauty! But a lame man may point you out the right way; in a dark night, we had better have a Uttle boy with a candle lighted, than a great man with an extinguished torch. Yea, a superior may lean on an inferior, as a great torch may be lighted at a small taper. So the very angels learned of the church the mystery of the incarnation, Eph. iii. 10. That gi-eat bishop of our souls teach us, that we may be able to teach you !

Whither should we send you for that learning which can save you, but to the word of this prophet ? ' Lord, to whom shall we go ? thou hast the words of eternal life,' John vi. 68. This shall make you wiser than your fathers, wiser than your teachers, wiser than your enemies. Without con-sultinff these oracles, were we wiser than the childi'en of the east, the day of judgment will find us fools. How murderous is that policy of Rome, to wi'ap up the oracles of this our anointed prophet in an unknown language, with severe interdictions ! Oh ! but simplicity, the simplicity of children, is commended by them! As if the sense of that precept did not concern either our affection for the subject, ' Be childi'en in mahce, but not in knowledge,' 1 Cor. xiv. 20; or evil for the object, ' Be simple concerning evil, but wise unto that which is good,' Rom. xvi. 19. There must be a scire facias before there can be 2l fieri facias: the blind seamster will never sew true-stitch. They that will never seek what they should know, will never Imow what they should do.

Let us love the wisdom of God, as we would have the God of wisdom love us. The whole world contents itself with a very httle measure of this study, which should admit of no bormds but the common bounds of mor-tahty. This is one cause why God is so iU served, for that can be no true worship of him which is separated from knowledge : the ' sacrifice of fools' is not accepted. He requkes rationalem cidtinn, our ' reasonable service,' Rom. xii. 1. If any man among you ' seemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a fool, that he may be wise,' 1 Cor. iii. 18. He speaks not of them that are wise, but seem to be wise; and not wise in the kingdom of heaven, but in this world. And if they were all this, it were no great matter of pride ; where the wisest know but in part, and the rest see but a part of that part. Yet ' let him become a fool,' acknowledge his own natm-al blindness, for humble ignorance is better than proud knowledge, ' that he may be wise.' * The meek he will teach his way,' Ps. xxv. 9; the humble are the docile; God takes no other scholars into his school.

Let me tell the world, that this divine knowledge is no matter of opinion; yea, they come nearest the matter, who stand farthest off in opinion from the world. There is a great deal of wisdom in the world, yet but a few wise men. When alms is divided among beggars, prizes among soldiers, lands or goods among legators, every one is discontented, and thinks he hath not his full share. But knowledge, of all dividends, seems to be most equally divided ; for every man thinks his own portion sufiicient: Sorte sua contentus abit. At an assize, witnesses do not appear when jurates be called. In your several companies, when mercers be summoned, goldsmiths do not come in ; upon the citation of mechanics, none but mechanics shew themselves ; no tradesman will answer to the name of another craft or mysteiy. But at the proclamation, ' Oyez, all that be wise come hither;' who comes not ? never was such an appearance in any court. But alas ! are all wise that so think themselves ? Nay, is any man wise that applauds his own wisdom ? It is s&id ' to make a man's face shine ;' but yet sanctified wisdom is by grace as far out of a man's conceit as the face by

nature is out of his sight. It may shine to others, himself doth not think it glorious. The people saw the ' shining face of Moses,' and were afraid : Moses saw not the brightness of his own countenance. As there is no day without a night, only that is the longest day which hath the shortest night, so there is no mind of man without some clouds and shadows of en-or and ignorance, only optimus ille qui minimis urgetur; that is best which hath fewest.

We call ourselves Christians : it were a shamo not to yield ourselves to be taught of our Master. Christ came in sii/no ad Abraham, in lege ad Moseni, in came ad Mariam, in gratia ad eicctos, in evangelio ad omnes ■ the church is his school, the gospel his doctrine. On eai-th let us be his disciples, that after om* removal we may be admitted to a new fomi among the blessed angels.

3. He was anointed to be our king. He was to be a prophet, like Moses. ' The Lord shall raise you up a prophet like unto me,' Acts iii. 22 ; to be a priest, like Melchizedec, ' Thou art a priest for ever after the order of Melchizedec,' Ps. ex, 4 : so also a king, hke David, ' God will give him the throne of his fsither David, and he shall rule over the house of Jacob for ever,' Luke i. 32. Not such a king as Herod feared, when he steeped his prevention in the blood of infants : it is not a secular, popular, \'isible kingdom. Of temporal royalty he had so little share, that his chair of estate was the cross, his crown made of thorns, his sceptre a reed, the Vivat Ilex was ' Crucify him ;' and the Head of the church had not a place to rest his head on. But a spu'itual, immortal, invisible kingdom ; his throne being the heart of man, his court our conscience, and the sceptre his holy word. The Jews disclaimed him, * We have no king but CfEsar,' Jolm xix. 14 ; we say the contrary, ' We have no Iving but Christ.' "WTiat is said of Michael (Rev. xii. 7), is meant of Christ: the battle and victory is his. We need no angelical, that have an evangelical. Head.

Well, if he be our King, let him rule us : no Divisum impcrium cum. Jove mundus habet: his throne brooks no rivals. If we divide his regiment, we divide ourselves from his regiment. We must not set up one king in Hebron, another at Jerusalem ; prince against prince, Absalom against David, the prince of this world against the prince of the whole world. Not Christ shall command me to-day, mine o'wu lust or pleasure to-moiTow. If we be not his loyal subjects on earth, we shall not be his glorious courtiers in heaven. Never king bought his subjects so dear ; he may well challenge our allegiance. ' All the garments of oui- king smell of mjaTh, aloes, and cassia,' Ps. xlv. 8. Let not our disobedience, by the odour and stench of our sins, overcome that sweet perfume to our own souls. He is the King anointed ; and with the odour of that supernatural balm we are pei-fumed. Let the fragrancy of his name draw us to holiness. Cant, i, 3 ; and of our own lusts be it said, ' Their place is no more found,' llev. xii. 8.

Yea, he hath made us all ' kings unto God his Father,' Rev. i. 6. How great is that King which makes kings ? Kings over our tractable and morigerous desires, to direct and encourage them. Icings over our mutinous and rebelling lusts, to subdue and punish them: Farcere suhjixtis, et debeUare sui)erbos. The glory of a king is not to exercise dominion over men's bodies, but to be a king of hearts. "Wlien a Christian can master his own aflections, this is regale imperiuin. He that can overcome a fulness of estate by abstinence, overcome injuries by patience, overcome blaspheming enemies by innocence, yea, overcome God himself by penitence, and hold that almighty hand by humble confidence, as Jacob wTestled with the

angel, and got the better, he is a king indeed, and shall be called Israel, a potent prince with God.

Kings hve not like common persons ; their apparel, diet, dwelling, attendance, revenues, all are above the vulgar rank. If Christ hath made us kings, why do we live like beggars ? Our diet is manna, the bread of angels ; our apparel out of the rich wardrobe of God's own Son ; our dwelling (for this is but our pilgrimage) is that glorious court above the starry fii'mament; our revenues be those immortal gi-aces from the treasury of goodness, which can never be wasted ; our attendance no meaner than celestial angels. Thus we fly a higher pitch than the secular wing. ' Men think it strange that we run not along with them to riot and excess,' 1 Pet. iv. 4. They that walk out of the common road shall be deemed miracles, when as the kingdom itself is a mystery ; but to eagles of the same eyrie it is neither miracle nor mystery. The hen that hath hatched partridge's or pheasant's eggs, seeing them rise from under the brooding and soar aloft, looks after them with wonder; alas, she thought they had been her own, whereas they are of a higher kind. The world, in some sort, hath brought up God's children ; for, ' fii'st is that which is natural, then that which is spiritual,' 1 Cor. xv. 46. It may be we have eaten their bread, fed at their cost. But when these fly high at the game of high eternity, and take a course quite above the world, the old birds, worldlings, stand amazed, and look strangely after them, because they are ignorant that these are of a higher generation.

Conclusion. —This blessed Christ is the sole paragon of our joy, the fountain of life, the foundation of all blessedness. The sum of the whole Bible, prophesied, typified, prefigured, exhibited, demonstrated, to be found in every leaf, almost in every line ; the Scriptures being but as it were the swaddling bands of the child Jesus. Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Samson, David, were all renowned, yet are but meant on the by; Clu'ist is the main, the centre whither all these lines are referred. They were all his forerunners, to prepare his way : it is fit that many harbingers and heralds should go before so great a Prince ; only John Baptist was that Phosphoiis, or morning star, to signify the sun's approaching. The world was never worthy of him, especially not so early; he was too rich a jewel to be exposed at the first opening of the shop. Therefore he was wrapt up in those obscure shadows, the tree of life, Noah's ark, Jacob's ladder; therefore called ' the expectation of nations,' longed and looked for more than health to the sick, or life to the dying. The golden legend of those famous worthies, Heb. xi., were but so many pictures which God sent before to the church, counterfeits, abridgments, and dark resemblances of the Prince of glory, whom his father promised to marry unto mankind ; and ' when the fulness of time was come,' Gal. iv. 4, he performed it. Lo! now, all those stars drew in their borrowed light when that sun arose. To whom, instead of all the rest, Moses and Elias did homage on Mount Tabor, as to the accom-plisher of the law and prophets.

The best things of the world may be proud and happy to be resemblances of him ; by him they were made, but for him they should not continue ; therefore most willingly they yield all their services to his honour, glad to be as silk and gold, fringe and lace, for the embroidery of his garments. The sun, the brightest of all stars; wine, the sweetest of all liquors; the rose, the fairest of all flowers ; bread, so necessary ; water, so refreshing; all emblems to adumbrate some parcels of his infinite perfections. Were they all compounded into one, the most harmoniously, yet thev could not

make up an idea of him. Ho is life and light, the sun and the sum, the founder and the finisher of all perfect blessedness. Chrislus in iino, Cliri.stiis in sumino; Christ is the root, and Christ is the roof. With us divers things have their uses in some cases and places, but to make us righteous before God, to pacify our consciences, to preserve us in this world fi'om sin, and in the world to come from damnation, nothing but Christ. As for God, ho hath so set his love upon Christ, that besides him, or out of him, he regards no person, no action. Only look how much there is of Christ in any i.ian, whether imputed or infused, so much he is in God's books. Out oi that boundless treasury he pays himself all our debts, and that so sufficiently, that whatsoever God can require for satisfaction, or man desire for perfection, it is all found in Christ. Now this Christ, as he is our King, govern us; as he is our Prophet, instruct us; as he is om- Priest, save us, by the sacrifice of himself and his own precious merits. Amen.

His only Son. —' His Son.' Three things are here considerable: the person begotten, the manner of begetting, and the time. 1. The person begotten is Christ, who must be considered as ho is a Son, as he is God. As a Son, he is not of himself, but the Son of the Father ; as God, he is of himself, not begotten, nor proceeding. He is alius a Patre, not aliud a Patrc; not the same species with the Father, but the same individuum. 2. The manner: this is neither by flux, as water is derived fi-om the spring by a channel; nor by decision, as one thing is cut out of another ; nor by propagation, as a gi'aft is transplanted into anew stock; but by an unspeakable communication of the whole essence fi'om the Father to the Sou. Which is no more a diminution of the Father's godhead, than the lighting of one torch doth take from another. Lumen de lumine, saith the Nicene Council. 3. The time; which hath neither beginning, middle, nor end, but is eternal. Before mountains, or fountains, or the world, ' the Lord possessed me,' Prov. viii. 22 ; now before the creation was nothing but eternity. But the person begetting must needs go before the person begotten ? Answer : There is a double priority, of time and of order. In the generation of creatures there must be a priority both of time and order ; here is of order, not of time.

The Son of God therefore must needs be God. We are neither Arians, nor Lucians, nor Porphyrians, nor Atheists, that I should stand to prove this; yet admit one argument to confijm it. Christ gave a resolute and constant testimony of himself, that he was the Son of God, and very God. Why, is this such a matter ? Divers others have not stuck at such a profession. Nay, but hear it all. Never did any man arrogate this title, to be called God, but was made the exemplary spectacle of a miserable man. Our first parents credited the de\'il, that they should be as gods. What became of it, but the ruin of us all ? Herod did not exact it, but only accept it; he took without refiising, what was given him without asking; yet what man ever perished more fearfully ? If Christ had pretended a divinity, and been but mere man, his contusion had been as grievous, as now his exaltation is glorious. But while Herod, Pilate, Caiaphas, and all those enemies of his deity were plagued, himself triumphs in the glory of blessedness. Never man was ambitious of this honour, but he was confounded ; Christ challenged it * without robbery,' and was glorified; therefore he is God. How should this gospel, which is more contrary to natm-e, than water is to fire, so win upon the whole world, that men should trust him with their souls, should witness him with their bloods ; but that he is omnipotent God ?

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' His only Son;' because he is so in a special manner. Nothing can be the Son of God as he is. Angels are God's sons by creation, believers by adoption, Christ as man by personal union; but Christ as God, neither by creation, nor adoption, nor by virtue or grace of union, but by nature. But if Christ, as God, be the Son of the Father by nature ; and as man, by the personal union ; then he is two sons ? Answer: One person cannot be two sons, but may be one son in two respects. Two respects make not two things; so light and heat should make two suns.

Was it necessaiy that Christ should be God ? Yes. First, None can save but God. He alone can repeat his creation; that is, to save us: 'Beside me there is no Saviour,' Is. xhii. 11. Secondly, That the grace of God might go beyond the sin of man. The sinning Adam was a mere man, the redeeming Adam is God and man: that as the first is far excelled by the second, so our comfort by the redemption of the second might be greater than our discomfort by the fall of the first. Thirdly, We were all lost, and there was need of remedy. What shall that be ? Mercy ? No ; we had justly deserved punishment. What then ? Justice ? No ; for we stood in need of mercy. Here now for God to be so mercifal as not to disannul his justice, and so just as not to forget his mercy : salvo jure jus-titid, parare locum misericordIcB: both to appease his wrath, that his justice might be satisfied ; and yet so to appease it, that his mercy might be magnified, here must come in a meditation.* Now, what shall this be ? Shall we off'er God the world for satisfaction ? It is his own before. Should angels tender themselves ? They are engaged to him for theii* making; besides, they are finite, and cannot answer for an infinite debt: this must be payed with an infinite sum; therefore he must be God. But this is not ail; for what can satisfy for our apostasy but humility ? When God comes to obey, he must be humbled : he must serve that comes to deserve, which God only cannot do. When he comes to die he must be mortal, which God only cannot be.

Therefore he was both: man to become bound himself, God to fi'ee us; man to become mortal, God to overcome death; man to die for his fi-iends, God to vanquish his enemies. The foot of that visional ladder stood close to Jacob's loins, the human nature of Christ to his church militant; the top reacheth heaven, his divine nature is one with the Father, to bring us up to the church triumphant. How inconceivable was this mercy, how doth it swallow up all human comprehension! If all the goodness of all the men in the world were contracted into one, and all the badness quite thrown out; yet were not this man worthy to kiss the hand of the Son of God, or to be saluted by him. But that he should die for those that had no goodness at all, here let our souls make a stand, and say, Lord, enlarge our hearts to be thankful, for we Ivnow not what to say.

Suppose a subject hath done some capital oiience against his sovereign, and the king's wrath is so incensed that nothing but the ofi'ender's blood can appease it. Yet there is only one way to save him; that is, if the prince, the king's only son, will undertake for him; which, if he do undertake, there is not one dram of the penalty to be abated; he must suffer all that is due to the transgressor, which is death. This condition, if the .prince do not accept, here is a miserable subject; if he do accept it, here is a merciful prince. And if the son would be thus compassionate, yet will the father suff"er it ? What king will give his only son for his slave ? There could be no cause in us why either Christ should interpose himself, * Qu.'Mediation?'— Ed.

oi" God should admit such an interposition. Loath would man be to givo his own son for his own sin; yet God gavo Jilium suum pro jieccalo iion siio. Infinite was the love of this Father; infinite the kindness of this Son ; infinite the grace of the Spirit; infinite the mercy of that one God.

Now the Son of God being humbled with the title of the son of man, hath dignified the sons of men with the title of the sons of God. Filios adoptavit Deiis in Filio, jjhmmoa in uniycnito: so that now he is the ' fii'st begotten among many brethren,' Rom, viii. 29. But if we be children, let us learn to know our Father. When the father is absent, the mother teacheth her chikken to know liim; by his care and providence for their education, by telling them his will and commands ; how they may please, how displease him; and if they swerve from these niles, she gives them correction. Om* Father is imisible ; in his w^orks only we see him, in his word we hear him; this is voluntas Fatris, our Father's will; the church teacheth us to obey that doctrme. And if we straggle from that rule, she justly whips us for it; for God hath allowed no fellow-doctor with himself. A man is made what ho is taught; doctiiue transfoims him into itself. Now the true mother will teach us the true doctrine of our Father; and if we bo true childi-en, we will obey it.

Duty 1. Seeing he is the Son of God, let us prize him above all things; what should be dear to us in regard of him that paid so dear for us ? Indeed, it is no easy thing for the nan-ow heart of man rightly to comprise this inestimable jewel: his sw^eetness is so far beyond the faculty of our taste, his beaut}' beyond the apprehension of om* eye. It is not enough to make much of him, but nothing must be regarded but for him. Let us not hold him with one hand, while the other gi-asps Mammon ; but embrace him with both arms of love. Ordinary objects are well satisfied with an ordinary measm-e of oui" aficction; but such a love will not content Christ. All the little rivers of our love, united into one stream, cannot carry a vessel worth his acceptance. He that paid all debts for us, and gives all blessings to us, requires no less than all love from us. For the entertainment of common persons, wise liberality says. Enough is a feast; but M'hen a king is our guest, we think enough too little; too much, or nothing. But for the Son of God, every little is too much; we love him, that's enough ; but then we lie, and that's nothing.

How do they love him that prefer the beauty of a wife, the petulancy of a child, yea, a cup of wine, or the content of a harlot, before him ? Money is that dominus factotum of the world. * A feast is made for laughter, and wine maketh meny, but money answereth all things,' Eccles. x. 19. Money is the master; religion, at best, but the master's mate. That can buy in offices, buy out offences, dignify peasants, magnify mushrooms; what not'? This is the world's Pandora, the Diana, the trump that beai's the game, the queen of hearts, the mistress of men's affections, upon whom mistresses themselves must wait. Christ is put out of his lodging when this great lady must be entertained. 0 fools ! when will ye be wise ? When your heads ache, lay your bags of gold under them instead of pillows ; will they ease you ? Will it put lustre into yom: cheeks when sickness hath made them pale ? Will not one spoonful of the apothecary's cordial do you more good ? If they cannot do these poor things, of what validity are they in the distress of conscience ? Let Judas then see what comfort his money will afford him : enough to buy a halter to hang himself. Doth not too late experience teach thousands, that one dram of mercy is more worth than whole coffers and mines of refulgent metals ? Why then

do we not sell our nothing to purchase Christ ? What he our bugles in respect of this diamond ? The whole pack of the world, with all the haber-dash stuff in it, is not worth the least grace of the Son of God. It was a heathen circumscription of old coins, Numnius regnat, nummus vincit, num-mus imperat,''^- which Charles the Great well turned into Christ: * Christ reigns, Chi'ist overcomes, Christ commands.' It is impossible to gain him unless we despise all in regard of him, unless we lay down all for him that laid down his life for us. Many have some faint and languid wishes, 0 that Christ were mine! but they want the fruition of him, because they make but a cold inquisition after him. The soul that seeks him as if she were undone without him, and rather than want him would want aU the world, finds him her Jesus. He will be wooed, in the first place, with the prime of our loves, joys, services ; he is the Alpha of our grace, the Omega of our glory ; they that make him the Omega of their thoughts and cares, begin at the wrong end, and set themselves to work when the candle is out. But it is the Son of God that must bless our beginning, and crown our latter ending.

Duty 2. Let this teach us humility and obedience ; the Son of God himself was obedient, and that to the veiy death. We love obedience in a whole skin, but who wiU obey to the death? And, indeed, death is the wages of sin and disobedience ; not the morigerous, but the rebellious son is punished. Yet such was the matchless humility of the Son of God, he humbled himself to the nature of man, and that was very low; his humanity was humility enough, yea, to ' the form of a servant,' and that was lower; even to wash the feet of his own servants; yea, to the death, and this was yet lower; yea, to the worst kind of death, the death of malefactors, of the worst sort of malefactors. One death is worse than another; if he must die, why not a fair, an honest, an easy death ? No ; the bitterest and the most shameful death of all. To be born, and so to be born ; to the cratch; to die, and so to die, on the cross; to be humbled to the na-tm'e of man, to the form of a servant, to the death of a malefactor. And this for the Son of God! Thus hath he taught us obedience that laid down his life for our disobedience.

Our Lord. —The Son of God is God, and therefore must be Lord of aU; yea, he is Lord also as mediator. Jesus Christ is the Lord; a blessed conjunction, that Jesus, who is a Saviour, should also be Lord ; that not a fleecer, not a flayer, but a Saviour hath the place. When lord and tyrant meet in one person, the people rue it, Prov. xxix. 2. Power and mahce be the worst match in the world ; these two make up a devil. Flies have a spleen, but they want strength. Bulls and horses have strength, but their spleen is dull: both are compounded in the dragon; especially in that ' red dragon,' who, with one swoop of his tail, drew stars from heaven, and by his malice would not leave one star there. Claudius was a bad private man, but a good emperor ; Titus a good private man, but a bad emperor ; if we beheve Tacitus. Goodness and greatness is an excellent composition ; such is our happiness. Jesus is the Lord. Christ, one that cureth unctione, non punctione, with anointing, not with searing and lancing ; he is Lord.

There be many on earth called lords; but they ai'e lords of earth, and those lords are earth, and those lords must retmn to earth. This Lord is immortal; raising out of the dust to the honour of princes, and laying the honour of princes in the dust. A Lord, not quahfied ; not of such a bai-ony, county, signiory, but Lord, in abstracto; of universal extent. Lord of

* Eeusner.

heaven, to glorify ^hom he please ; Lord of earth, to make high or low, whom he please ; Lord of death, to unlock the grave, Rev. i. 18; Tiord of hell, to lock up the old dragon with his crew, Rev. xx. 3. He keeps the key, that shall let all our hodies out of their earthy prisons. A great Lord; whither shall we go, to get out of his dominion ? To heaven ? there is his throne ? To earth ? that is his footstool. To the sea ? there his hand is most wonderful. To the darkness ? night is day with him. To hell ? there he is present in his fearful justice, Ps. cxxxix. 7. Whither, then ? Yes, to purgatoiT, or some of the limbos ; that tn-ra iiicof/nita is not mentioned in Christ's Lordship. The pope may keep the key of that himself. But for the rest, ho is too saucy ; advancing his universal lordsjaip, and hedging in the whole world for his diocese ; stretching his ami to heaven, inrabricking what saints he list; to hell, in freeing what prisoners he list; on earth, far and wide ; but that some of the wiser princes have cut short his busy fingers. :;; ' Our Lord ;' so we believe, so we profess. Ours: he dearly paid for us; bought us, and brought us out of the hand of our enemies, that we might serve him. Here comes in our duty, that, as he is a Lord of himself, so he be acknowledged by us. This is expressed, 1, by our reverence ; 2, by our obedience.

1. If he bo ' our Lord,' let us do him reverence. It hath ever been the manner and posture of God's servants, when either they offer anything to him, Matt. ii. 11, or pray to receive an}-thing from him, Ps. xcv. 6, to do it on their knees. Wlien the king gives us a pardon for our life, forfeited to the law, we receive it on our knees. When he bestows favour or honour, be it but a knighthood, men kneel for it. In that holy place, where men receive the forgiveness of sins, the honour of saints, so gi-acious a pardon, so glorious a blessing, there be some that refuse so humble a gesture to the Lord himself. Never tell me of a humble heart, where I see a stubborn knee. Indeed, this bodily reverence is not all; the tongue and heart must not be left out. But when our body is in such a position, and our mind in such disposition, we are then fittest to speak of him, and to speak to him. The tongue must also confess his glorj'. Those Uttle engines are nimble enough in our own occasions ; they run like the plummets of a clock when tlie catch is broken. But in our public devotions, Amen is scarce heard among us. The Amen of the primitive church was like a clap of thunder; and their HaUeluiah as the roaring of the sea.-= How do they convince our silence !

All must do honour to this Lord ; they in heaven, willingly, * casting their crowns' at his feet; they in hell are thrown down, and made his footstool ; they shall acknowledge him, though roaring, and on the rack, gnawing their tongues for spite. The regenerate sing his praise with cheerful voices ; the reprobates, like the band of Judas, shall fall backward, and end their days in Julian's desperateness. Vicisti: they shall confess him, though sore against their wills. He must be honoured ; if we be his servants, by us ; whether we will or no, upon us. Either we must confess him singing, with saints and angels ; or howling, with devils and damned spirits. God will bo glorified in his Son, either by the gracious confession of them that yield, or the glorious confusion of them that stand out.

2. If he be our Lord, let us give him obedience. ' Lord, save me,' saith Peter, Matt. xiv. 30. He is a Lord to save. ' Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?' saith Paul, Acts ix. 6. Ho is a Lord to command. We like Saint Peter's Lord well; to succour and save us, when we are in any

* Hieron.

danger; lie shall hear of us then. But we do not like so well of Saint Paul's Lord ; ' What wilt thou command to do ?' Lorinus observes, that the apostles, before Christ's resurrection, used to call him Master; after he was risen, only Lord ; to witness his power, and theu- obedience. "When we would have him do us good, then ' Lord, help us ;' but when we should do him sei-vice, then ' who is Lord over us ?' Ps. xii. 4; we have no Lord, then. A young rich man came unto Christ; ' Good Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal hfe?' Matt. xix. 16. Hitherto, Good Master; God had been a good Master to him, that had so enriched him for this world ; and if he would give him the kingdom of heaven, too, he should be his best Master then. But when it comes to this, ' Sell all thou hast, and give to the poor,' he hung down his head, and went his way; no more Good Master, no Lord now. This parting from his riches mars all. If this Lord cannot be served without beggaring his followers, he is no Lord for him. Christ is our good Lord, while he fills our coffers with money, our bones with marrow ; but if he require aught from us, either to the poor in charity, or to his church in equity, this Lord may go seek him servants. But how do men forget themselves to be but stewards, while they deal thus with their Lord ? Is any steward the richer, because he hath much money of his Lord's entrusted to him ? He hath not the greater estate, but the greater account. Thus we play at fast and loose with Christ; fast for our advantage, and loose at our obedience; as if we were but his servants iu compliment, to take his wages, and do our own business. His, when we have need of him ; our own, when he hath need of us. But let him be our Lord to govern us, or we shall not find him our Jesus to save us.

' Wliy call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say ?' Luke vi. 46. How dare you give me that title in your words, and deny me that honour in your deeds ? ' No man can say, that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost,' 1 Cor. xii. 3. From the teeth outward, many a false spirit can aclaiowledge it; but to say it as it should be said, is the work ot the Holy Ghost in us. In judgment and doctrine we confess him, in affection and practice we deny him. We hear this Lord in your lips, but let us see him in your lives. As a Saviour, every man will own him ; but few obey him as a Lord. But let his word rule our Uves, that his blood may save our souls.

Thus much severally of his four titles ; from them jointly considered together, I desire to raise four uses.

Use 1. Seeing this blessed Saviour is a person so full of absolute perfection, let us fully rest ourselves content and satisfied in him. ' He fiJleth all things ;' good reason he should fill our hearts. If he be our host, our cup shall overflow ; if he be our physician, our wounds shall never rankle ; he hath that wine and oil which will cure us. What if God take away all, and give us his Son ? are we losers by it ? No ; all accessions add nothing, all defects detract nothing from that soul's happiness which enjoyeth Christ. He is via liicens, Veritas ducens, vita coronans; if we err, he is the Way; if we doubt, he is the Truth; if we faint, he is the Life. W^hat should distemper us, if our SaAiour be in us ? We are full of sins ; his satisfaction answers for us. We have no righteousness ; his righteousness covers us. He takes it unkindly at our hands, if, through his justice, we do not hold ourselves completely just. We have manifold weaknesses. ' His grace is sufficient for us.'

If ho be not the object of our knowledge, our wisdom wall end worse than did Herod's oration, in odious ruin. To hope or tnist in God, and

not only through Christ, is a wikl naturian faith, a Jewish, ungrounded confidonco. Patience without him is a base stupidity; fortitude, a desperate presumption; temperance, a drauken sobriety; all virtues, but either natural qualities of the constitution or moral habits of education, neither acceptable to God nor profitable to ourselves. If Christ bo not their foiin, they are all misshapen; he is the grace of all graces, as sugar sweetens all confections and musk perfumes all cordials. We may flatter ourselves with our good works, but if they be not dyed in the blood of Christ, God will not vouchsafe so much as to look upon them. Nature, custom, and education have done much for many. In these they rest, priding their own hearts and pleasing themselves; but without Christ, they are far from pleasing God. All our gi'accs are but the rays of his righteousness, the effects of his holy influence. "Whither should we go for supply but to the fountain? In vain we seek it in nature, or hope to attain it by art. "Wlio runs to the pack when the warehouse is open, or fetcheth water at the cistern when he may have it at the spring head, nearer hand, and better cheap? ' Without Chi'ist we can do nothing,' John xv. 5. The bird can sooner fly without wings, the ship sail without wind, the body move without the soul, than we do any good without Christ. 0, that om* hearts were more fixed on him and directed towards him, than the Heliotropium is to the sun, the iron to the loadstone, the loadstone to the polestar.

For us that bo ministers the text of all our sermons, the sermon of all our texts, is Christ. He is our only scope and theme, and all our task is, to crucif}' him again before your eyes, by preaching his death and passion to your ears; by the help of Christ, to preach the gospel of Jesus, to the praise of God. If we should intend to commend to you our own leai'ning, or anytlmig but Christ, we had better have held our peace. Wo lay our foundation on this Rock; and if we should not, the rocks would ciy out against us. Let the dotards of Rome give more reverence to the founders of their own rules and orders, than they do to Christ. Let those Franciscan fathers snib their novices for talking of Christ and his gospel, and not of the rules of Saint Francis and their own order. Christ is our seiTnon, let Christ be our contemplation. Why else doth the Scripture resemble him to such familiar and obvious things, but that in all occurrences we should remember him? He is compared to the light, that so often as we open our eyes we might behold him; to bread and wine, that we might not make a meal without him; to the door, that going in and out we might think on him; to the water, that we cannot wash but we must meditate of his cleansing our souls; to a garment, that when we put on our clothes we might thankfully consider his righteousness that covers us.* He is all in all unto us. Let us seek no content (for we shaU find none) but in Jesus Christ.

Use 2. Let us glorify his name that hath purchased glory for us. Let him not sutler the world's indignity through our impiety. ' Holy and reverend is his name,' Ps. cxi. 9; and as we tenn him our Lord, let us use him so. But w^e may weep to speak it. Oui* unseemly beha\aour, and the slender reverence that we give him,—I say not only in the common passages of our life and profane places, but even in the temple, his house of prayer and praise,—shew as if we were ashamed of his service, Rom. ii. 24, whereas our carriage there, of all places, should be so decent, so devout, so orderly, that if a stranger or unbeliever should come in he might be convinced to say, ' Verily, God is among us,' 1 Cor. xiv. 25. So respectivelyf * Bern. t That is, ' respectfully.'— Ed.

ougM we to bear ourselves in his holy worship, that men may say, See what servants Christ hath ; how full of reverence to his sacred mysteries, how free in their contributions of charity, how forward and zealous in their obedience. This is to glorify that Christ on earth who we look should glority us in heaven.

Yea, whether we eat or drinlj, work or walk, whatsoever we meditate, speak, or do, let all be to the glory of the Lord Jesus. Impertinent and unsavouiy be our best works when we have an eye to our own names, inviting honour to ourselves. This is to hunt counter, to take gi'eat pains to no purpose; the more cost, the more lost. Such pharisees may, for their charity, go to the devil, themselves and their moneys perishing together; whereas the least beneficence done for the love of Christ shall have a sure reward. Then be our alms accepted, when the love of Christ constrains us, when his eye is more encouragement than all the world besides, if, when good is done, the thanks and sole honour of the deed redound to him. ' I laboured more than they all,' saith Paul. But he corrects himself. Was it I? No, ' but the gi'ace of God in me,' 1 Cor. xv. 10. He will suffer no part of the repute to rest upon his own head, but repels it forcibly from himself, and reflects it carefully upon his master; as Joab, when he had fought the field and gotten the day, sent for David to carry away the credit of the victory. Far be it fi-om us to lurch any of his praise.

Let all our works be done in. the name of the Lord Jesus; begun with his allowance, performed with his assistance, and concluded to his glory.. We can desire no better a paymaster; why should we do any work but his ? Let the Romish parasites blow up their mushroom into a colossus, yet ' the strong shall be as tow, and the maker of it as a spark, and they shall both bum-together, and none shall quench them,' Isa. i. 31. Their lord of the triple crown needs not be magnified; let him alone to magnify himself. But no praises light happily unless they reflect upon the Lord of glory. Those two court-figures, adulations and hj'perboles, are incompatible to him. He cannot be flattered, that is goodness itself; nor praised too highly, which is infinite. It is his just title to ' inhabit the praises of Israel.' Soli virtnti laus dehita; * now there is none perfectly good that is, or was, or is to come, but only he that is, and that was, and that is to come. Be glory only to God. The best praises are lofty-winged and fly high, resounding at the immortal door of blessedness, Trm-uni Deo gloria.

Use 3. Om' obedience and a holy conversation must not be omitted, otherwise we shall be sine Christo Christiani,\ Christians in name, without Christ indeed. In vain we profess to ' know him if in our works we deny him,' Titus i. 16. If we will have him do good to us, we must do the good he wills us. He is to command, we are to obey But, alas! instead of doing his will, we are angry if he do not om'S; if he answer us not in this thing or that which we would have, and when we would have it, we are presently in the tune of unthankful Israel, mui-muring. Here it does not shew as if he were the Lord, and we to do his will; but as if we were lords, and he to do our will; he to serve om* turns, and when he fails of that, to be turned out of his sovereignty. Men will acknowledge the Lord to be Jesus, but not Jesus to be the Lord. 0, Lord, be Jesus! but not 0, Jesus, be Lord! We would have the Lord a Jesus to save us, but not Jesus a Lord to command us. But Jesus is the Lord; and those things which God liath joined together let no man attempt to put asunder.

Use 4. ' Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ,' Rom. xiii. 14. Saint Paul * A list. -f Bern.

socms to borrow this plirasc from the custom of those tliat wore baptized in his days, who, comin<:j to that sacrament, did use to put off their chithcs, and when they were baptized, to put on new garments. Now, the use of a garment is to apply it to the body and to wear it; so, to put on Christ, Gal. iii. 27, is to express him in our conversation. He is an excellent robe. Some -write that Pilate, wearing the seamless coat of Christ, did pacify the angry Cajsar; but Christ is a garment that can appease God himself. They that wear gorgeous apparel arc in princes' courts, they wait on kings. Whosoever arc admitted to the court of heaven have put on Jesus Christ.

' Put on Christ,' a rare garment; rare for the matter, rare for the making. The matter is of heaven and earth, God and man. For the making up ; in his conception the web was spun, in his birth it w\as woven, in his persecution it was fulled, his life being ground in the mill of sorrows. Then was it dyed in gi'aiu, scarlet dye ; his blood was shed to colour it. In his death it was cut out; iron was put to it, but it did not shrink. In his resurrection it was made up again. In his ascension it was richly adorned and beautified, and so laid up in the wardrobe of heaven. From whence it is spu-itually taken, and continually worn of the elect by a faithful appU-cation; a robe large enough to cover us all. Thus Christ, like the silk-woiTQ, spun himself to death, that he might make a web of righteousness to apparel us, ' The king's daughter hath on raiment of needlework,' Ps. xlv. 14; Christ is that garment of needlework, the needles that stitched him were the thorns and nails. Woe to them that shall abuse this robe, that shall either stain it with the blood of saints, or defile it with the aspersions of their own lusts, or rend and tear it with blasphemies, or cut and divide it by their peace-brealdng factions. Such are the schismatics, that play the tailors with Christ, and cut him out to new fashions. But let us in humble faithfulness put him on, and innocently wear him as our only glory.

I conclude. Melius nan esse, quam sine Christo esse, we had better not be at all, than be without Christ. I had rather be out of heaven with Christ, than in heaven without Christ. Yea, wheresoever Christ is, heaven is. When Christ was in the womb, heaven was there ; when Christ was in the manger, heaven was there; when Christ was in the temple, heaven was there ; when Christ was in Zaccheus's house,; heaven was there : ' To-day is salvation come to this house,' Luke xix. 9 when Christ was in the ship, heaven was upon the sea; when Christ was on the mountain, heaven was there: ' It is good to be here,' saith Peter; when Christ was on the cross, heaven was even there ; when he ' brake bread at Emmaus, heaven was at the table ; when he took flesh, heaven came down to earth ; when ho ascended, heaven went up to heaven. The same heaven is now in heaven, which makes heaven to be itself. Now he that is our heaven on earth, bring us to himself in heaven, through the exalting power of his own most blessed merits ! Amen.

The Inc.vrnation. —' The Word was made flesh.' Verbum, quid suh-limius 1 Cam, quid suhmissius 1 Factum, quid mirahilius 1 In the Word, there is eternity; injlcsh, temporality; in wat/e, personality. The Word is a creator, the flesh a creature, itiade a creation. Flesh, finitum ; Word, infinitum; made, 7<jh7hw. Ihcxe'i^ dirinum,humanum, axid vinculum. In these three words, have been found above three hundred mysteries.

1. ' The Word.' The person incaniate is the Son of God: he that is eternal, before all time, was made man ' in the fulness of time.' ' In the

BIEDITATIONS UPON THE CKEED.

beginning was the Word.' In princlpio, tliat is, in princvpatu, as some expound it, taking a^'x/j to be not only ordinativum, but potestativum, as princes are called a^y^ov-sg, Rav. xix. 16, Or 'in the beginning,' that is, 'in the Father.' Pater est principium sine principio, filius principiitm de princijno.-'' ' I am in the Father,' as the river in the fountain ; ' the Father IB me,'as in his engraven image, John xiv. 11. Or in principio, rather that is, in cctcrno; the creatures were/rowi the beginning, the Word in the beginning, before there was a beginning. Jam turn 2)citris erat sanctum et vencrahile verbiim.f God made the world, he made not the Word. He had his being before any creature took beginning, Prov. viii. 22. Erat, not fuit ; fuit is given to that is not, fuimus Troes ; erat quod est et erit. As he was, so he is, and is to come. Rev. iv. 8. When was the Word ? in the beginning ; where was it ? with God ; what was it ? God. With God ? why so are the angels. Indeed, they are so locally, but not personally. The Word says, ' I and my Father are one,' John x. 30 ; union, one substance, not umis, one person, in a plural verb, ' are one.' Semper cum patre, semper in patre, semper apud patrem, semper quod 2'>ater.\

2. 'Flesh.' Why is his humanity expressed by this word y?^s7i, whereas the soul is the more noble part of man ? Answer : The spirit cannot be seen, Luke xxiv. 39 ; the flesh is a visible and passible part; ' flesh,' not an idea or form of man conceived only in the mind, but the whole nature of man, consisting of a reasonable soul and body, existing in uno individuo; the true dimensions of a body, the true affections of a soul, yea, the infirmities of our sinful flesh, but quite separate from the sin of our flesh. He did partake of every state of man. Fu'st, Of innocence, wherein he had immunity, yea, impossibility of sin. Secondly, Of grace, wherein his excellency is superabundant. Thirdly, Of gloiy, wherein he hath clearness and blessedness of vision. Fourthly, Of corruption, taking infirmities of nature, a nature of infirmities. He had all fulnesses, numerositatis et copice ;§ yea, also of infirmities. But these be distinguished, j)assibiUtatis, or inordina-tionis ;\\ there are infirmities painful without sin, or sinful with pain; he took those, not these. He was in the reality of flesh, Heb. ii. 17 ; but only in the ' similitude of sinful flesh,' Rom. viii. 3.

Infirmities be either natural or personal; natui'al, as to be bom weak, unlearned, subject to passions; these he assumed. Personal, as to be bom lame, blind, diseased; these he assumed not. Such as might be evidences of his humanity, not such as might be impediments of his muiistry. His body, doubtless, was of a most excellent form, a staiTy brightness sparkling in his countenance, such as made his disciples follow him for love, and his apprehcnders recoil for fear, though this were hidden under the vail of humihty. The blessed wood of that ark was exempt from all corruption,^ far purer than the body of Absalom, 2 Sam. xiv. 25. That which is made by miracle, is more perfect than that which is made by art or nature: as when Christ made wine of water, it was tke ' best wine.' That body which the Holy Ghost had shaped for so pure a soul, separated from sin, united to the Son of God, proportioned in most equal sjonmetiy, was not dis-figurpd nor distempered with diseases. He lay not swollen with a dropsy, nor Tame of the gout, nor languishing of a consumption. He took infirmities, not diseases.

He took afi'ections, not sms. Thou art covetous, Christ took not this; he was made flesh, not covetous flesh; he was covetous of nothing but his * Auk. + Ambr. || Bonav.

t Pallad. g Chrys. % Hieron.

Father's glory and onr salvation. I am stained -with sin, Christ had neither sin nor stain : that Israelite was without guile, that Lamb without blemish. He took the weaknesses of natural llesh, not of personal flesh : ' the seed of Abraham;' that is, the nature of Abraham, not the person. I know that he took our sinful inlinnities too (for whatsoever in man was not somowaj' assiuned, was noway healed), but these in another kind; not by way of inhesion, but by imputation, * he was made sin for us,' 2 Cor. V. 21; by reputation, the world thought him a sinner, Mark xv. 28. In a word, he took so much of flesh as was expedient for us, not unseemly for himself. But the flesh is weak, Isa. xl. 6; and he was now to undertake the hardest design. Shall oui' Samson, who (we expect) should foil the Phihstines—death, sin, Satan, hell—sufler his hair to be shorn, his self dispowered, by taking flesh ? yea, rather, ' Put on strength, 0 arm of the Lord,' Isa. li. 9. But Christ, not so much with his strong arm as with his holy aim, hath gotten himself the victory. Damona non armis, sed morte snhcijit. Satan little suspected in human flesh a power to overtlirow his kingdom.

8. ' Is made.' The Maker of all comes to be made ; he that made man to be made of a woman. He thought it ' no robbery to be equal with God,' Phil. ii. 6. There be many gods in name, Christ is God by nature. Lucifer and the pope are gods by robbeiy, Christ is by right. Natura sinnpsity nonprccsumpsit superhia.'''' Made flesh; not by conversion: sicut rerbum induit vocem, et non transit in voceftn: sic Verhum aitentum imluit car-nem, et non transit in carnem: not as water is turned into wine, there is no mutation of God; not by confusion, as divers sorts of gi'ain be mingled in the heap; not by composition, as divers metals are beaten together in a mass. But by the assumption of the manhood into God: nnturam sus-cipicndo nostram, non mutando siiam. His di^■inity was no whit consumed when his humanity was assumed. lUe manet quod semper erat, quod non erat incipiens. Homo Deo accessit, non Dens a se reccssit.] He w'as ' made flesh :' non deposita, sed quasi seposita majestate-X

Begotten of his Father as God before all times ; bom of his mother as man in the fulness of time. A wonderful union ; not hujus ex his ,-§ the fi-aming of a third thing out of diverse parts imited; but hujus ad hoc, an uniting of things so, that the natures remain distinct, yet the subsistence is but one. As the soul and body make one man, or as fire is incoi'porated into iron, or as the same man is both a lawyer and a physician, or as a scion ingrafted to a tree, is one with the stock, yet still retains its own nature and fniit. Thus the man Christ is everywhere, not the manhood. * Made flesh.'

This was a work beyond the substitution of any created excellence; either to defend the finiit from original infection, to which Adam's seed was hable, or to actuate it in the womb by an inconceivable operation, Luke i. 35 ; or indeed, to overshadow it from our ambitious examination. Si haheret ex-empluin, non essct singulare; si ratione ostcndi posset, non mirahile.\\ Let us grant the Lord able to do what we are not able to understand. This is work for our hearts, not heads ; humble faith, not cuiious inquisition, shall find tlie sweetness of this mystery.

Object. 1. Eveiy person is the whole divine essence ; therefore if any person of the Deity be incarnate, the whole Deity is incarnate. Ans.: Dcus incamatus, non Deitas; God is incarnate, yet not the Godhead, but the

* Aup. X Euseb. Ew. | Aug.

t Prud. § Durand.

person of the Son subsisting in the Godhead, The whole soul is in every part of the body : in the foot, in the hand, in the knee, lip ; yet doth it not exercise reason in every part, but in the head only.

Object. 2. Opera ad extra sunt indivisa: this was an external action of God to the creature; therefore not proper to the Son, but common to all. Ans.: Inchoative coviinunis, non terminative. The incarnation stands in two actions : the creation of a nature to be assumed, the assumption of it being created. The former was common to all the three persons equally ; the latter is the limiting it to one person only ; so it is made peculiar to the Son. The word was only made man, yet they all did work together in the making of this man. Three women concur to the making up of a gannent; haply one may spin it, another weave it, and the third shape it, yet one only of them wears it. In the choosing of a wife, there is the father, the mother, and the son; the son likes, the father and mother consent; all have chosen her, yet is the son only married to her. So terminus unionis was in Christ.

Object. 3. Why not the Father or spirit incarnate, but the word ? Ans.: It was not fit for the first person; for so he should have been the son of a creature, which is the Father of a Creator: the father of him that is by nature immortal God, should be the son of herthat isbynature amortal woman. To 'take flesh,' is to 'be sent,' John iii. 17;' but the Father cannot be sent; the fountain sends forth the river, not the river the fountain. It was not fit for the third person; for so there should have been more sons in the Trinity than one; the second person by nature, and the third by grace. It was fittest for the Son. First, "WTio so fit as the Son of God, to make us God's sons; as the Son by nature, to make us sons by grace ? Secondly, The inheritance was his ; who so fit to divide it with us ? he may dispose his own at his own pleasure. Thirdly, The image of God was lost in us; who so fit to repair it as the express image of his Father's person ? God made us like created resemblances of himself, we had made ourselves resemblances of Satan ; lo, he that is so like God, that he is God, confiimeth us again to this image. Fourthly, By this Word, God made the world ; by the same Word made flesh, he redeemed it. Fifthly, Christ is the wisdom of his Father; by his wisdom he made all at the first; by the same wisdom he restores all again. Sixthly, Man had foolishly afi'ected to be as God; to rectify this, the Son of God must be man. As the Lord said in derision of man's folly, so we may sing in the praise of his mercy. See, said God, ' man is become as one of us,' Gen. iii. 22; we say thankfully, ' See, God is becone like one of us,' Acts xiv. 11.

Verbimi cavo factum. Here is a trinity of words, and the work of a trinity of persons ; of the Father in sending, of the Son in accepting, of the Holy Ghost in applying. Three sisters work up one seamless mantle, which the second only wears. The father hath his work in creating this garment of the manhood, the Holy Ghost in setting it on ; only Christ wears it. St Augustine sends the caAdlling Jew to his hai-p: there be three things together; art, the hand, and the string; yet but one sound is heard. Ars dictat, manus tanr/it, chorda resonat ; * both art and hand work with the string; neither art nor hand makes the musical sound, but the string. The Father, Son, and Spirit work together ; yet neither Father nor Spirit, but only the Son is made flesh. Sonum sola chorda reddit, carnem solus Chistus indiiit. The operation belongs to three, the sound to one; ad solum, chordam soni redditio, ad solum fHium carnis susceptio.

* Ausr de Incar.

There is a fourfold coming of Christ; in came, fide, morte, et retrihutione. In the flesh, John i. 14. In faith, Rev. iii. 20. In death, Mark xiii. 35. In judgment, Luke xxi. 27. Accordhig to these four comings, the church celebrates four adventual Sundays, eflcctually to prepare our hearts for the meditation of them. The whole world had been left had ho not come in the flesh. Bo much of the world is still lost, to which he docs not come in the Spirit, in faith. The world would be secure were he no more to he expected, therefore he will ' come to judge the quick and dead.' If eveiy man were to tarry for his trial till the general consummation of all things, many would fear the commission of nothing; therefore as he will come most certainly to judge all men, so he comes uncertainly to judge any man ; every pai'ticular man hath his day, and there is one universal day for all. Erga Iwminem, intra hominem, supra hominem, contra ho)ninem. He came unto all, and all shall come unto him; but if he once come into us, he will never come against us. Concerning his first advent, in the flesh, all things are accurately and exactly set down ; that they may be as apparently certain to us, as they are excellently wonderful in themselves, quanta accuraiiur in describendo Veritas, tantb j)e^'suasior in recipiendo jidcs. We cannot doubt of this truth, and be saved. The incarnation of God is that history and mystery whereon the faith and salvation of the world dependeth. Noluit nos nerjligenter audire, quod ille voluit tain diligenter enarrarc.^

Conceived of the Holy Ghost. —For the explanation of this article, my discourse shall walk in the evangelist's steps, following the passages and cii-cumstances in theu' due order.

Luke i. 28, ' The angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favom-ed, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.' Borrowing a little from the precedent verses, we have, 1. The place, Galilee. 2. The time, the sixth month after John's conception. 3. The messenger, an ai-changel. 4. The salvation, ' Hail, thou that art gi-aciously accepted,' &c.

1. The place was obscm-e ; Galilee, despised of the Jews, as quite destitute of all privileges. * Can any good thing come out of Nazareth '?' says even a Nathanael, John i. 46. ' Shall Christ come out of Galilee?' so the people disparaged it, John vii. 41. * Search, and look, out of Galilee ai-iseth no prophet;' so the pharisees took up Nicodemus, ver. 52. Do we look for a king, where is not to be foimd a prophet ? From a country so corrupted, that there is scarce one to be saved, do we expect him that shall save us all ? Yes, nan tantuin a Galiiaa siirgit propheta, sed Domiims jirophetarum. No prophet comes out of Galilee, but an angel comes into Galilee; yea, the God of angels and prophets descends there to be conceived, where his solemn oracles appeared not. The angel is not sent to the palaces of Jerusalem, but to a cottage of Gahlee. Many noble dames and great ladies were in that metropolitan city ; honom* and pleasure there kept theii* courts; it was once * the joy,' is still the fame of the whole earth. Yet how doth God overlook her stately turrets, and pass by her proud damosels, directing his angel to Galilee'? As Ehas was sent to none of the widows in Israel, but to one in Sidon, Luke iv. 16, so Gabriel is sent to none of the virgins in Jewry, but to one in Galilee. Goodness is gracious, wheresoever she hides her head; and humility is not more contemptible to the world than precious in the eyes of heaven. Angels had rather bo with a saint at Nazareth than Avith a sinner in the court of Jerusalem. The place doth not honour the person, but the person honours the place, as the heavens do not make God glorious, but his presence glorifies the heavens. Be

* Hicrom.

content with thy obscure Galilee; thou art as near to present mercy, and to futiu'e glory, as temporal advancement can make thee. Yea, it is in thee to make thy shed a palace. God, that filleth all places, makes no difference of places. Sapientisjycitria est iibicunque saplt,'^- the wise man's home is wheresoever he is wise. Credenti coelmn est xibicunque credit, the faithful man's heaven is wheresoever he believes.

Galilee was a despised part of Israel, Nazareth a part of Galilee; their own pride had hid it from the pharisees; the angel comes thither to find the holy virgin. Where can devotion serve the Lord, and the Lord not observe her'? The good conscience may think itself solitary, yet is never without company. God and good thoughts are within it, blessings and good angels are about it. Honoui* waits at the door of humility; and though dogs and devils were barking to disgrace it, will not av/ay till it hath encompassed its head with a crown; as Samuel must attend till David be fetched from the sheepfolds to be anointed king. No poverty, no ignominy can bar out mercy. It shall find out goodness in the darkest corner of privacy. God makes not dainty to converse with a saint, because.he goes in rags, or dwells homely. It is for the pride of man to observe such circumstantial differences, and to be transported with the glorious bravery of places; to shake the hand that wears the gold ring, not to drink to any below the salt. With God it is otherwise. He respects honitatem in tuf/uriolo more than celsitatem in palutio. ' Heaven is my throne,' yet ' I will look to the man of an humble heart,' Isa. Ixvi. 2. Than heaven, there is no place higher; than a poor contrite spirit, there is no condition lower. The head and the feet stand furthest asunder; yet than betwixt these there is no sympathy nearer. Cold taken in at the feet suddenly affects the head; and if one tread on the toe, the head complains, Why do you tread on me ? They that think themselves lowest are most respected by him that is the Highest. In vain doth a man himt after his shadow, he shall never overtake it, for aU this while the sun is behind him; let him turn and follow the sun, his shadow shall follow him. Whilst humility refuseth to hunt after gloiy, glory will hunt after humility. As no place is so secm'e as to keep out God's judgments; so no place is so obscm-e as not to be found out by his mercies. The angel salutes Maiy in Galilee.

Galilee, some say, signifies a transmigration ; fit to shadow out his conception, who ' went forth from the Father, and came into the world,' John xvi. 28. There is one transition. Who left his own people, that left him, and off'ered himself to the gentiles. There is another transition. In GaU-lee, yet in a city of Gahlee. He that was to build a city would be conceived in a city. Spiritual Zion was the city he came to build, the foundation whereof was laid in his blood, the walls reared by his gi'ace, the strongholds fortified by his righteousness, asd the perfection of it is his glory.

2. The time must be considered in a double relation. Quoad statum popidi, quoad statum anni. First, for the state of the people, which was extremely corrupted. Indeed, the priesthood and daily ministrations continued from David's time to Christ. They had run thi'ough many troubles, manj' hurly-burlies, many alterations, yet the sacerdotal line was not interrupted. That order endured above eleven hundred years. It was God that reserved his owti worship. No thanks to them. They that were so apostated from holiness would not have stuck to deprave his ser^ace. Yea, the pharisees had so blended it with then- own traditions, that thousands among

* Sen.

them knew not which was God's word, and which the pharisecs'. They had lost hoth purity of doctrine and piety of hfe. If Home have lost these, her personal succession is hut a poor argument. While the Jews crucified their Saviour, no man denies that they kept the succession of priesthood, no man thinks that they kept the succession of truth and holiness, which indeed make a church, and not the persons. That is a forlorn and miser-ahle church which hath lost the truth, though it have many priests ; as at the last day, there shall he ' little faith' in the world, yet abundance of Christians. In this exti-emity of evil God produceth the gi'eatest good. When things were at the worst, he began to mend them. Those times were fit for Christ, and Christ was fit for those times. In the most des-pei'ate declination of Israel came the most glorious salvation of Israel. I deny not but there were some holy in those degcnenxte days. Alas ! if Judah had wanted saints, where had they been found in all the world ? It is a miserable vintage where no good grapes be left to the gleaners, Rom. xi. 4. Elias thought himself singular; God tells him of seven thousand partners that defied Baal. He hath some holy clients in the midst of the foulest depravations. Tho Jesuits, with all their familiar devils, shall not bring all into the Inquisition that worship Christ under their noses. God disposeth of all times, of all men, therefore would dispose of some good men for his own times. All shall not go before him, nor all come after him; some shall wait upon him. Zacharias, Elizabeth, Marj', Joseph, Anna, Simeon, Nathanacl, these were his attendants. It is fit, when the I^ng of all tho world came into the world, he should have some servants to entertain him. For this preparation was John Baptist sent before, that it might not be done without a noise. Indeed, ' he came unto his own, and his oAvn received him not,' John i. 11. And because they received not him, he rejected them.

For the state of the year, this was the sixth month after John's conception. Christ was conceived in the spring, and born in the solstice. John Baptist was conceived in September, so called quasi scptimus imher, in the autumn, full of the leaf, or declining of the year. Christ was conceived in March, the spring or rise of the year. ' He must increase, and I must decrease,' said John, Jolm iii. 30. 1. In the spring the world was made, in the spring it was redeemed. God begun both the creation and the reparation in one and the same season. 2. The world received its life fi-om Christ in the spring, and Christ received his life fi*om the world in the spring. Qui dedit, accepit, sub eodcm tempore, vitam. 3. The sun doth then return to us, difiusing his beams and influence with a more powerful operation. Christ is our Sun of righteousness. He was never far from us, but he never came so near unto us as when he took our flesh. 4. For the sweetness of the season. The spring renews the face of the earth, and heals the breaches of squalid winter. Stillabunt monies didcedincm. ' The mountains drop sweetness, the hills milk and vnne, and rivers flow with cheerful waters,' Joel iii. 18. The gi'ound looks with a new face, hath new hairs to her head, new clothes to her back; the sun seems to have new eyes, the trees put out new arms, flowers bespangle the meadows, and birds sing in the branches. Cant. ii. 12. Here is a spring of blood in our veins, a spring of blyth in our countenances, a spring of hope in our labours, a spring of joy in our hearts. 5. In the spring the days begin to lengthen, tlie sun bemg past the equinoctial point. Under the law they had short days and long nights; some glimpses and small iiTadiations of tho light, but quicldy clouded with the mists of obscmity. Under Chi-ist wo have

long days and short nights. After the glimmering and dim candle of legal shadows, we have the bright sun of evangelical substance. Theirs was a St Lucy's day, short and cloudy; ours is a St Barnaby's day, which hath scarce any night at all. Thus he that stretcheth out the heavens hath stretched out our days as heaven, yea, even lengthened them to eternity. Our mortal state, indeed, hath some night, not because there is not day enough about us, but there is some natural darkness remaining within us. Our immortaUty shall be clear, for there ' is no night at all there,' Rev. xxi. 25. Oh, may this happy spring of grace never know any fall of leaf, never may night overtake this day of comfort!

3. The messenger is an angel, which affords us divers meditations of light and use.

(1.) An angel. So honourable was the message, that a man had been too mean to bring it. The incarnation of Grod could have no less a reporter than the angel of God. Even the conception of his precursor was foretold by an angel. The Holy Ghost revealed to Simeon, that he should not see death till he had seen Christ, yet was not that prophet graced with this embassage. John was to be such a harbinger of Jesus, and Zacharias shall have such a harbinger of John. John was to be the first herald of the gospel, and even his herald shall be an angel. The same angel brought both the tidings : to Zacharias, of his son ; to Mary, of her's. John was the greatest of them born of woman by man ; Christ, the greatest born of woman without man. Both were sent of the gospel's errand ; the one as a messenger, the other as the author. One angel foretells them both. John was to proclaim Christ, and an angel is sent to proclaim John. Christ came in silence, John with a noise. John was a wonder, but he wrought none ; Christ was a wonder, and a worker of wonders.

(2.) An angel. The vision of those celestial spirits was never common ; rarely they appeared, and upon weighty occasions. But now especially, when their obstinate sins had locked up the revelations of heaven, when God had restrained his supernatural inspirations, and left them alone with their ordinary instructions, it was now wonderful news to see an angel. They were grown strangers to God in their conversations, and God was grown a stranger to them in his apparitions. Yet still their knowledge was better than their practice ; and till they had more obediently learned the old lesson, there was no need of a new. But when God intended to begin his gospel, he first visits them with his angels, before he visits them with his Son. His angel shall come in the form of man, before his Son come to them in the nature of man,

(3.) The angel's name is specified: Gahnel, he whose name signifies the ' strength of God,' shall bring news of the God of strength. A maid of mortal condition, therefore impotent, shall conceive him that is omnipotent. She shall be strengthened by him that shall be conceived in her. The indulgence of other mothers procures strength to their children, here the child shall add strength to the mother.

(4.) It is not likely that this angel did foimerly wait upon Mary; this was not his ordinary attendance. In that celestial hierarchy there is an order, though we cannot understand it. They are too presumptuous, that appoint them their several walks, ranges, and quarters. Without question, they have their special charges. But as this was an extraordinary message, so this angel was sent extraordinarily on purpose.

(5.) As no man was worthy to bear this news, but an angel, so nor was every angel thus honoured, but an archangel. Never did angel receive a

ffreater honour, than this message of the incarnation of his Maker. Angels have been sent to divers : to Gideon, Manoah, &c. There the angel honoui'ed the message, hut here the message honoured the angi'I. For never was any business conceived in heaven that did so much concern the earth, as the conceiving of the God of heaven in a womb of earth. He was highly glorious before, this added to his glor}\

(6.) The first preacher of the gospel was an angel. If God had not meant honour to that office, he would have used a meaner instrument. An angel was the first preacher, and God hath ever since called his preachers angels.-= He that is sincere in the smallest gifts, doth the office of an angel; they that well employ greater talents, shall bo reckoned among the archangels ; they that bm-n in the zeal of the tnith, and kindle this holy fire in the heart of others, shall be numbered among the seraphims. How basely soever the world esteems us, we are the successors of apostles, of angels. God that sends us, calls us his angels ; men to whom we are sent, make and count us beggars. We preach the same Jesus to you, that Gabriel did to Mary. 0 that our sermons had such success in your hearts as his found in hers ! that you might all depart pregnant of the Lord Jesus.

(7.) An angel; that our reparation might be answerable to our fall. Eve was a virgin in paradise, Maiy a virgin in Galilee ; Eve was espoused to Adam, Mary espoused to Joseph ; an e^^l angel comes to Eve, a good angel to Maiy ; that bad one was the first motioner of sin, this good one is the first reporter of salvation. The one came jvopria voluntate, Deo perviittente: the other, bona voluntate, Deo pracipiente: Satan came, God permitting it; Gabriel came, God commanding it. The evil angel was the cause of our ruin, the good angel could not be the cause of our restoring. That was author enoris, the beginning of oui* destruction; this, mmtius salutis, but the messenger of oui' salvation. Yet, although the angels cannot be the authors, they are glad to be the repoi-ters of our new blessedness ; joyful to tell that God hath done that for us, which they would and could not. Good news rejoiceth the bearer. With what gladness did Gabriel bring this tidings of om* Saviour, and his o^vn confirmer ! for as we are redeemed to life, so they are established in life, by one and the same Jesus.

(8.) God appeared frequently in the presentation of angels, mitil the fulness of time brought in the fulness of knowledge. Formerly, angels signified the presence of God, as an ambassador represents the person of the king. Now he restrains the angelical, having given us the evangelical revelation. Still the presence of angels is as ordinary, but not their apparition ; veiy rarely do we see them, yet we are never without them. We are never out of their sight, though they be out of oui'S ; they are by us, and we see them not; they bear us in their arms, and we feel them not. When they do assume shapes, they are not more present, but more visible. Our senses camiot perceive them, our faith may. We are God's httle childi-en, the angels be his elder sons ; posuit, praposuit nobis ; as in a family, the greater children bear and look to the less. In quovis anr/ulo adhibe reverentiam (uujelo: tibi jwitsunt, tibi ])rosunt. f Behave thyself reverently before those angels, whom thy God hath charged to protect thee.

(9.) Mary was at home when ' the angel came in unto her;' i)i muUebn orbe, the house. Straggling and gadding Dinahs sooner meet with devils, than with angels. It is not imlikely that she was at her devotions ; ante vientem replcvit qiiani vent rem; stent cum processit ex utero, non rcce!<!iU ab animo. \ While Zacharias was ofl'ering incense, an angel came do\Mi (as it * Gregor. j Bern. % Burn.

VOIi. III. Q

were) in that fragrant smell, Luke i. 11 ; as an angel went up in the smoke of Manoah's sacrifice. Of all places, he chose to appear in the temple ; ot all parts of the temple, at the altar ; of aU parts of the altar, at the right side. The angels are with us at all times, but especially in our devotions ; in all places, but especially in God's house. They rejoice to be with us, when we are with God. When we go about our sins, they tm-n away their faces. They would not minister to us, while we are officious to Satan. But while, with Zacharias, we are at our prayers, or, with the holy virgin, at our lawful callings, they dehght to do us good. The angels of God shall preserve us, so long as we serve the God of angels.

4. The matter or salvation itself. ' Hail, thou that art highly favoured,' or ' graciously accepted.' The angel does not so much praise the virgin, as God's gi-ace to the virgin : meritum noii narrat, sed favorem; he says not that she had deserved, but that she is accej^ted, and what God hath conferred. I deny not but she was holy among women, at that time the most holy of men or women ; but for this sanctity she was beholden to God, not God to her. The Lord doth not tie his favours to the worthy ; his elections be as free as himself. Maiy was his choice; he that purposed and promised that his Son should be made of a woman, purposed to perform that promise in this woman. He sent the angel to her, but himself prevented the angel, and was first with her. Therefore the angel says not, Pr(e])ara hospitium; but in effect, Heclde jirceparatum. The Holy Ghost had sanctified her soul, before he overshadowed her body ; and filled that with holy faith, before he filled this with the blessed frait. God was with her, before God took flesh of her. She was full of excellent graces ; but those were mimera, not merita: no creature could deserve to bring forth the Creator. She had honoured God as an obedient daughter; but this could not merit that God should honour her for his mother. ' He regarded the lowliness,' not the worthiness, ' of his handmaid,' was her own confession. Alas, that ever man should think to merit of his Maker, when this could not be granted to God's own mother. Humility, and a disposition of ourselves, is that which the Lord accepts. Humble penitence is better than proud righteousness ; humble ignorance better than proud knowledge. I had ahnost said, an humble sinner is better than a proud saint.

* The Lord is with thee.' iJominus ad te, Dominus in te, Domimts ex te, Dominm tecum. The Lord, even the whole Trinity, was with her. God the Father, in his election of her to this honom*; God the Son, in his conception of her flesh; God the Holy Ghost, in his obumbration of that holy vessel. Pater 2)rccelegU, Filius replevit, Spiritus sa7ictus consecravit. The first person honoured her, that, of whom himself was the Father, she should be the mother. The third person honoured her, in forming that divine burden within her. The second person honoured her, in being made man by her flesh. So she might be called Totim Trinitatis nohile tncUnium. This expounds the former ; she was highly graced indeed, when ' God was with her ;' wheresoever he is by his gracious presence, he makes heaven to be. Highly was she favoured when she was honoured by the Most High; when heaven, which so far transcends this visible world; when God, who so infinitely transcends heaven, descended into her womb. This was no ordinary grace which the virgin found in heaven, to find heaven within herself. No mortal creature was ever thus honoured; that he should take part of her nature, who was the God of nature ; that the Maker of all things should make his human body of hers ; that her womb should yield that flesh which was personally united to the Son of God; that she should bear him who upholds

the world : this was such a Domimis tecum, as was never lieanl of before, never shall be sampled after; above all wonder admirable, without all example singular.

' Blessed art thou among women.' First, Many women have been blessed; neither doth the Old Testament afford such plenty of good women as the New. "VMiy should there be any difference of sexes in gi-ace, when there is none in glory? ' In Christ there is neither mule nor female.' Only the good woman hath the gi-eater honour, because she is the weaker in nature; as in the night a clear and bright moon is more admired of us than a daily sun. Of the good women under gi-ace, Elizabeth led the ring; and, in respect of time, went before Marj^, as her son was to go before the Son of Mai-y. She was long ban-en, but at last had a son, and that a miraculous fruit both of her body and of her time. She was blessed to be the mother of the greatest mere man; Mary to be the mother of him that is God and man. Many women are fniitless, but they cease to be virgins ; many virgins are blessed, but they are not fniitful. But Maiy was a virgin-mother, a fruitful virgin : fniitful even while she was a virgin, and continuing a virgin after she had been fruitful.

' Blessed among women.' The first woman was the instrument of man's ti-ansgression; this is the instniment of his redemption. FA-a occidendo ohfuit, Mnria concipiendo 2^>'fifnit ■' ?"'i perni.ssit, hta aanavit.'^ She, by believing the evil angel, became cursed; this, by bclie^•ing the good angel, became blessed among w-omen. Eve's disobedience pepcrit mortem, Mary by obedience peperit scdutem. But this eulogy is formerly given of another woman. ' Blessed above women shall Jael the wife of Heber be ; blessed above women in the tent,' Jud. v. 24. Ans.: She was blessed above any woman in her age, or in the ages before her. Judith did as nobly in cutting off the head of Holofemes, as Jael in boring the head of Sisera. Esther is behind neither of them, in hanging up the head of Haman. Those three women were all famous, and merited praise, for hvering Israel from those three cmel tyrants. But they lopped off only some branches ; Mary brought foiih him that stocked up the root. Sisera, Haman, Holofemes, were but limbs of the devil; Christ confounded the devil himself. Still may it be said of Maiy, Nee primam visa est similem, nee habere seqiientem; ' Blessed is she among women.'

Christ came from many blessed women; faithful Sarah, godly Rebekah ; yet it is observable that none of these be mentioned in his genealogy; but other four, and they had all their several blemishes, Matt. i.

Tamar is the first; and she stole from her father-in-law an incestuous copulation ; because in justice she might not have her third husband Shelah, by subtlety she obtains Judah. She rights herself An-ongfially, because she was not righted justly. Yet is this incest pardoned, and this woman royally chronicled.

Rahab is the next; and she was every way contemptible. By nation a Canaanite, by profession an idolater, by city a Jerichonite, by trade an hostess, by conversation a harlot. Her nation was as vUe as to be a dog; her religion was a worship of the devil; her city was so cursed, that it should not be builded but by the niin of the re-cdifier's posterity; her profession was an infamous reproach; her life was not unanswerable to all these, her body being as common as her house. Hostess and harlot were held convertible tenns ; if a guest wanted lodging, her omti bed was public. Yet is she become a mere chaste convert, honest and honourable ; thought

* Aujr.

worthy to be the grandmother of David's father ; and the holy line of Christ is not ashamed to admit her into that happy pedigree.

Ruth, the third woman, came of that nation which was begot in incest; Moab, even by Lot of his own daughter. They were the snares and pitfalls of Israel, the contempt of God ; ' Moab is my washpot,' Ps. Ix. 8. Indeed, the worst of herself was poverty; and that was her fate, rather than her fault. Yet she hath the honour above aU the dames of Israel to be the great-grandmother of a king, of David, of the Messiah.

Bathsheba is the last, recorded under the title of Uriah's wife; the very reddition of her husband's name, is the repetition of her shame. One that, ambitious to be a queen, leaped into the bed of her husband's murderer. She first lies with an adulterer, and then marries a homicide. Yet is she honoured to be the mother of King Solomon, and (in respect of the line royal) of Christ himself.

Thus one was incestuous, the second a public hostess, the third a begging stranger, the last an adulteress; yet from these came the Lord Jesus; from such unholy loins, the most holy Saviour; not for the countenancing of their sins, but for the magnifying of his own mercies. He that descended from their bodies, sanctified their souls, pardoned their sins, and made them blessed. But his own immediate mother was a pure virgiu ; of whose hoh-ness we cannot have too reverent a thought, so long as our apprehension holds her to the condition of a woman. We may not affect to be honoured as Mary was; we may afiect to be sanctified as Mary was. Our desire of holiness must know no measure, that is not above the capacity of a creature.

'Among women ;' it is not said ' among men.' There is a man above her, there is no woman comparable to her. Her honour is confined to her own sex. ' Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou surmountest them all,' Prov. xxxi. 26. She hath the pre-eminence, inter filias, among the daughters; but there isJiUus, a Son, even her own Son, that far excelleth her. She was her Father's mother ; in her was made he that made her. Her finite body contained the infinite Spirit; eternity was wrapt up in time, the Creator in a creature, God in a virgin. Many men and women have been and are the spiritual temples of God; none ever was his material sanctuary, but this ; therefore, ' blessed above women.' Yet still more blessed the man that was bom of this woman. Mater benedicta propter filium, non fillus 2'>ropter matrem: the blessedness of this woman came by a man. Thus Christ honoured both the sexes ; he was a man, not a woman; he was made of a woman, not of a man. Fortnam viri assumendo, et de femina nascendo, lotrumque seximi Iwnoravit. It was the seed of the woman, not of the man, that slew the serpent. If man should insult over woman, because the world's Saviour is of our sex, not of theirs, they might answer, he was made of our sex, without the least counsel of yours. If they should insult over us, because he was made of a woman, not of a man, we reply, that he was made a man, not a woman.* He would be a man, and be made of a woman, that he might save both man and woman. And ia respect of his salvation, there is neither man nor woman, male nor female, but ' we are all one in Jesus Christ.'

The angel salutes her, he does not pray to her ; he doth graciously speak to her, not humbly worship her. Adoration is a divine peculiar, which even the noblest creatures among themselves may neither give nor take. She was to be the mother of God, yet he adores her not; here the angel did

* Aug. Cont, FaQst.

not give it. When John foil dowTi to worship an angel, he ditl not suffer him; there the angel would not take it, Rev. xix. lU. Tliey style themselves the ' fellow-servants' of holy creatures, not fellow-mates with the most holy Creator. The angel's salutation is become the papists' prayer; so they used to join the brokage of Are-Man/ lane with Pater-nosler row, and looked not to bo heard of their Almighty Father, without the intercession of his mother. We pity the blind people that are taught to make a conscience of this folly ; but neither heaven nor earth can yield an argument to excuse their teachers. "Who but madmen would beg of the blessed virgin now again to conceive Christ ? But are not these words in the word of God ? Yes, so be many others ; which abuse makes the doctrine of men, yea, the doctrine of devils. Satan takes words out of the Scripture, whereof to make his charms of sorcery. To say, they use it not as a petition, but as a salutation, this were to suppose the virgin still at Nazareth, om'selves all archangels, and sent on this message. But neither is she mortal, as she was in Galilee, nor are we angels, as was Gabriel. Because a glorious spirit saluted her that was flesh and blood here on earth, shall we, that are flesh and blood, salute her that is a glorious spirit in heaven ? How gross, how senseless is this presumption ! We read hov? the angel spake to Peter. He that shall now pray to him in the same terms, * Arise, gird thyself, bind on thy sandals, cast thy gaiTaent about thee, and follow me,' Acts xii. 8; were he not mad ? Yet the one hath as much sense in it as the other. For men to pray unto the virgin in the angel's salutation, is to abuse the virgin, and the angel, and the salutation. Neither are they excusable that hang up this sign at theu- doors : so that it is no rare thing to be drunk at the Salutation. In a word, the angel salutes her as a saint, he does not pray to her as a goddess.

The angel did not pray to her, but he praises her: ' Blessed art thou among women.' Herein we second the angel; we bless her, and bless God for her, because we are all blessed in him that came of her. She ' found favour' and gi-ace with God, and we are all thankful to the God of grace for it. Her happiness was more ours than the angel's ; we have reason to bless her, whom the angel pronoimced ' blessed.' The whole Trinity did honour her ; miserable be that dust and ashes which doth sjjitefully dishonour her. She is the beloved of God, therefore worthy of all humble respect from man ; so holy, that not to be thought of without reverence ; so glorious, that not to be mentioned but with praises. It is pity, he that despiseth the mother, should be saved by the Son. She was a prophetess on earth ; she is an eminent saint in heaven. She was ' blessed among women' below ; she is blessed among saints above. Thus far we willingly go ; but to make her a queen of heaven, an understander of hearts, an attorney-general to promote all men's suits, the advocate of all clients ; that she can command God, because he is her Son ; that she can pardon sins, prevent miseries, do that superstitious man would have her : to this we dare not subscribe. Yea, we say it is blasphemous to mingle the milk of the mother with the blood of the Son, a derogation from the perfect merits of Christ; and they that lose the Son, are never to be helped by the mother. Yet such be the idolatrous blasphemies of their rhyming Marials, that Calvin fears not to say truly: If one should spit in her face, di-ag her by the hair of the head, or trample her imder his feet, she would count it a less injuiy. I deny not but some of the fathers have gone too far in these attributes ; but it was their zeal to the Son, that made them over-praise the mother. They did adortmre laudibus, but our Romists do adorare precibus.

Jerome calls Christ the head, and Mary the neck ; the head transfaseth by the neck. But at Rome, she is neck, and head, and eye, and hand, and heart, and all. Nor can they think of a gi-ace in Christ, which they do not doubly commend in the virgin ; and indeed the whole tenure of that church is more in their lady, than in our Lord. But she wiU never thank them for that honour, which dishonours God. She that so humbly ' magnified her Saviour,' would not be magnified for a Saviour. The Jews were commanded to keep holy the day of their deliverance out of Egypt; they did not think that the day delivered them, but God on that day; they did not worship the day, but on that day they more especially worshipped God. Moses might as well have adored his rod, because it wi'ought miracles ; as Aaron his, that at once bloomed and fructified. These were laid up for holy monuments ; they were not worshi2)ped. That blessed virgin cannot be too much honom'ed, so long as she is not deified. The angel's testimony was seconded by her own prophecy ; we believe both the angel and her. ' All generations shall call her blessed,' Luke i. 48 ; by the fruit of whose womb all generations are blessed.

' Blessed among women.' Well was the child worthy to make the mother happy. Mary was obscure ; she was not ignoble, but even of the blood royal of Judah, though her condition was mean. Joseph was immediate heir of the crown; Mary was not far removed, but by her right had been queen. Christ came of a poor, but no base parentage ; the famous kings of Judah (none such were in all the world), were his progenitors ; he ■was born a king. Herein she might be happy ; but in being mother to the King of all the world, more happy. And yet, still, there is a happiness for lier beyond that; Beatior concipiendo Christum fide, qucmi came: felicms corde qnam corpore gestavit* This was the Dominus tecum, that made her perfectly blessed ; she beheved on him, whom she conceived. Tecum in ventre, tecum in mente; tecum in utero, tecum in auxillo. The one was more miraculous, the other more beneficial; that was her privilege, this is her happiness. That the Word was made flesh within her, this was our good; that her heart was haUowed by the Word, this was her good.

To be the mother of God, was singular to her; to be the sons and daughters of God, is common to all the elect. In the former, God meant her a miracle of women ; in the other, an example of men and women. In that, she conceived the Savioui- of the world ; in this, she conceived the Sa\iom- of her own soul. If we obey the word, we are the mothers of Christ; if we believe, we do again incarnate the Son of God. A Christian may well be called a ' new creature;' for he becomes one by conceiving his Creator. Adam was formed of neither man nor woman; his body of earth, his soul from God. We all come of both man and woman. Eve was made of a man, without a woman; Christ, of a woman without a man. A Christian is formed a new way ; neither as Adam, of neither sex; nor as all the world, of both; nor as Christ, of woman alone; nor as Eve, of man alone; but by having another formed within him. So Saint Paul travailled in bkth of the Galatians, ' tiU Chiist was formed witlun them,' Gal. iv. 19. Adam was taken out of the earth. Eve out of Adam, we as men out of Adam and Eve. Christ was formed within Mary, to be a Saviour ; and Christ is formed within us, to be our Saviom-. . Thus until Christ be conceived in us, we are not indeed Christians. Every renewed heart is another Mary, a spiritual sanctuary of the Lord Jesus. There he was formed, to be formed here; here daily, there once for all. In this God hath made us

* A us.

blessed (in due proportion") with Mary ; she materially, we spiritually, conceive his only Son, No womb can conceive him, and not partake of him ; none can partake of him, and not be blessed.

This blessedness belonp;s to all that are spiritually pref^nant of Christ; but all do not see with the angels' eyes. None are less honoured in this world, tlian they that shall be most honoured in the world to come. The gallant ladies of Jerusalem little thought of this neglected virgin ; yet after the success known, which of them would not have changed condition with her, though they had given the whole world to boot'? Mary was the happy instrument to make all nations blessed, by bearing Him that is the blessedness of all nations. Ministers are the instrumental means to bring him into 'jur hearts, whom she brought forth unto the world ; yet who be more contemptible in the eyes of all men? Papists and sectaries, indeed, make them idols, the rest of the world esteem them as c^'phers; either nimious respect is given them, or none at all. They strive to make men rich for heaven, and men strive as fast to keep them poor on earth. In sacrilege the world hath one end, God hath another; their end is covetousness, God's end is justice; they do it because they will not be controlled, God sutlers it because they shall not be saved. Yet still blessed are they among men that bring this blessed gospel to men; and if they serve that Christ whom they preach for their contempt below, he will make them amends with his own gloiy above. The star is the thickest and darkest part of the orb till the sun hath enlightened it; then it is tar the brightest. The preacher is the meanest man of all professions till Christ hath glorified him; then shall his shining honour appear, Dan. xii. 3.

All the faithful are thus blessed among men in their degi-ees; though disregarded of the world, yet honoured of the angels, and beloved of God himself. The elections and valuations of men fall out otherwise. The rich man in his puiijle is set on the throne of esteem; poor Lazams lies at the footstool of the heart, perhaps shut out of the gate. The world is apt to magnify them that magnify themselves; desert in retiredness is not minded. We choose a wife for her beauty, a servant for his industry, a friend for the flattery, a house for the commodity; none of these in reference to Christianity, ingo, an ancient king of the Draves and Yeneds, having some Chi'istians in his dominions, but the most and gi'eatest of his subjects being pagans, made a great feast, and invited them both. He sets the pagans, though they were his nobles, in the hall, the poor Christians in his presence chamber, where their cheer and attendance was kingly, and they had his company. While his peers wondered at this, he answered, ' This I do, not as I am king of Draves, but as I am heir of another world, where all these shall be my fellow-princes. He gave civil due to his lords in the politic regiment of his kingdom; but these he looked upon with a spiritual eye, beheld them below as they shall be above, clothed with white robes and crowned with glorious diadems. These he loves, these he blesseth, as the blessed and beloved of God.

Uncut or unset diamonds, shuffled among other stones that are polished, are not heeded by a common eye. Beiyls and bristow stones, especially rubies and sapphires, are incomparably preferred before them. l^ut the lapidary culls out the other, and having artificially handled them, holds the least diamond at a gi'eater price than they can have for all the rest. The godly are jewels; heaven itself is not so precious, for it was made for thom, not they for it. But they appear not yet to the world in so bright lustres. "When they shall be set in the ring of eternity, how glorious will they shew

then! ' They shall he mine, saith the Lord, in the day when I make up my jewels,' Mai. iii. 17. There be that value one jewel above many Christians, whereas one true Christian is more worth than all the world. Gold is the purest metal, yet is covered with a barren turf. The richest piece in the gallery hath always a cui'tain before it. The fairest beauty commonly goes masked. ' The king's daughter is all glorious within.' Rottenness gives the he to others; this beauty shall outlast and outshine the heavens. God doth not keep a court of heraldry upon earth to record to the world the degi-ees of the honour of his saints; but their names are written in heaven, registered in the book of life. The angel calls Mary-blessed, Elizabeth calls her blessed, Simeon calls her blessed, she calls herself blessed, all generations call her blessed, God himself calls and makes her blessed. Yet, as Paul said, ' cometh this blessedness on the circumcision only ?' Rom. iv. 9 ; so, cometh this blessedness on the virgin only ? No. Even ' blessed are they that mourn ' for their sins. Matt. v. 4; ' blessed are they whose sins are not imputed,' &c., Ps. xxxii. 2. Let the lures and stales of the world, the gorgeous caparisons of the flesh, attract and transport others; these to me are the excellent on the earth, the true, gentle, noble worthies of the world. These hath God blessed ' with spiritual blessings in heavenly places;' these shall Christ entertain with a ' Come, ye blessed of my Father!'

Ver. 29, ' When she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be.' She might well be troubled. Fu'st, If it had been but a man that had come in so suddenly when she expected none, or so secretly when she had no other company, or so strangely, the doors being haply shut, she had cause to be troubled. How much more when the shining glory of the person so heightened the astonishment? Secondly, Her sex was more subject to fear, mulieres, molliores; women are sooner wrought upon by objects. Yet not only men, but even good men, have been amazed at the sight of angels, Jud. vi. 22. Manoah and his wife had not spu'it enough left to look one upon another; but, instead of looking up to heaven with cheerful countenances, they fell flat to the earth on their faces, Jud. xiii. 22. Zacharias was a holy priest, wonted to serve in the presence of God, yet he trembles at the presence of an angel, as if he durst be more familiar with the Lord than with the servant. Well might a tender virgin be troubled at that wherewith such strong men were astonished.

We flatter ourselves how well we could entertain such visions, but there is difference betwixt our faith and om' senses. To apprehend here the presence of God by faith, this goes down sweetly; should a glorious angel appear in this church, it would amaze us all. Weak eyes are soon dazzled with that light which should comfort them. The vision of God is life and happiness, yet our mortal nature is ready to conceive death in it. If the cause of our joy afflict us with fear, we may thank our own sin for it. Now, if the sight of an angel did so astonish this holy and blessed maid, what shall become of the reprobates when they shall be brought before the tribunal of God himself, with all his glorious angels ? Yet she was not troubled so much at his sight as at his saying; not what she saw, but what she heard, more amazed her. The messenger was not so wonderful as the message. Her soul hath work enough to digest this, though she had less minded the other.

Ver. 30. ' And the angel said unto her. Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found favour with God.' This fit must not last long. The good angel was both apprehensive and compassionate of her weakness, therefore suddenly revives her spirits with a cheerful excitation, ' Fear not.'

1. The law was {riven ' by tho ministration of angels,' but in terror. Moses himself quaked. The gospel was given also by the nunistiy of angels, but without terror : ' Fear not, Joseph;' * fear not, Zacharias:' ' fear not, Mary.' Here is no earthquake nor thunder, but a mild and mansuete voice, a tune of peace. ' Glory to God on high, peace to men below,' Luke ii. 14. The law was a yoke, ' which neither we nor our fathers were able to bear; the gospel is a yoke too, but profitable. here jiKjum Chmti. A yoke is not for one, but for two. Christ himself is one of the two; that yoke must needs be easy which he bears with thee. ' Tho Lord will speak peace to his people,' Ps. Ixxxv. 8. But why be not all our songs set in that key? Wliy is anything but peace in our words, whose commission is the word of peace ? If we were sent to none but Maries, we would use no other language but the angel's. We say, ' Fear not, IMary, Joseph, Zacharias;' but 'Fear not, Judas, Elymas, Magus, Herod,' we dare not say. Fear, that you may escape sin; and believe, that you may escape fear. Zcdekiah's ' Fear not' to a godless Ahab was unseasonable; it invited him to ruin. The same to Gideon was in season, and encouraged him to conquest. He that deals with men's affections hath a wolf by the ears. If we speak peace, they wax wanton; if we reprove, they grow desperate.

2. The good angels endeavour to take away our fear, evil angels to bring it; their conditions are not more contrary than their dispositions. They strive to hinder all good from us, and to quench all good in us ; the other do pity our human frailties, and love to be the instruments of our happiness. This is true on both sides, though we perceive it not whom it most concerns. Wc neither see nor feel the de-vil when he tempts us to our destruction. Our senses are no more sensible of the angels, when they watch in our protection, and secretly suggest their consolation. If an angel says not to us vocally, ' Fear not,' yet he provides actually against the cause of our fear. Satan is so deadly an enemy, that he would not only kill us, but kill us with terror; good spirits affect our relief, and instead of terrifying us, labour for our tranquillity and peace. Here was not so much amazement in the face, as comfort in the speech of the angel. Joy was his errand, not terror. There is no fear with the angels of the gospel; but as the sweetest lesson to an ill-affected hearer sounds harsh, the fault is not in our instruments, but in your contradicting and discordant spirits.

3. Till the fit of fear was taken off, the virgin was unfit for this heaverJy message. Her sickness was not a fever, but a syncope, or swooning, therefore her most proper physic is a cordial, some restorative ; this water of life the angel hath ready, brought from heaven. All passions disquiet the heart, and sway the balances from an equal poise ; there is no w^eighing the gold till they retmn to evenness. A sound conscience is to the soul as health to the body; health consists in the good temperature of the elements, fit quality of the humours, a diligent function of the parts which proceeds from the former, and a beautiful proportion of the body that ariseth fi-om them all. If any be defective, or excessive, or not pertbiin the due office, all is out of frame. Fear had a little troubled the virgin's soul; as a green branch is forcibly bowed by the hand of man, which (letting go the hold) presently comes again to itself and former proportion. If a man look into a troubled spring, he sees no reflection of his own imago ; the passionate heart cannot for the time return the image of the Maker. But as tho sun itself gives way to a stoiTu, which overblown, he reshines to us in his former glory; so this sudden fear was as suddenly swallowed up by a

miraculous joy, and the \drgin appeared again herself. Soon hath the angel cleared the coast; the mists of passion are dispelled by the very name of that Sun, which fi'om her womb, as from the blessed East, was to arise unto the world.

' Thou hast found favour with God.' Favour is a sure antidote against fear. Esther durst not come into the presence till the sceptre had given her admission ; a summon of that emboldens her. Marj^ found favoui", not at Herod's court; it was none of her ambition: the beauties that brought grace from thence, often left more grace behind them, their honourable names. Not gi'ace among men : she was none of the world's favourites ; for then sure she had been worth a Iamb at her church-going, Luke ii. 24. Not grace with the world; alas! it is a popular, titular gi'ace, like a blazing comet. But favour with God; a durable, comfortable grace, a star fixed in the orb of eternity, as unchangeable as its author. She did not merit favour, but she found it; God did not find it with her, but she found it with God. This high favour did not make her proud, but thankful.

Erewhile she trembled with fear, now she is confirmed with favour; the troubles of the righteous ever end in comfort. Let those fear that know not they are in favoiu', or know they are in disfavour with God; thy gi'acious estate calls for confidence, and that confidence for joy. What should discourage them on earth that have found favour in heaven ? What can they fear, that are loved of him, at whom the devils tremble ? What remote corner of her soul was there, into which these beams of consolation did not shine ? Favour with God! We need no more; fremat orbls et ovens; were there many hells, and every devil a legion, here is an invincible fortification against them all. ' By this I know that thou favourest me, because mine enemies triuxuph not over me,' Ps. xli. 11. He had enemies enough, but what was their rage in respect of God's favour ? We fear not the good angels, for we know that if they can hurt us, they will not; the evil ones would, but cannot, if we be in God's favour. Their assaults strike our weakness with ten'or; why ? but because we forget our condition in Christ. ' If the Spirit witness with our spirits, that we are the sons of God,' Rom. viii. 18; let all the subtile spirits of hell, more cunning than critical lawyers (for the master hath still one trick more than be teacheth his scholar, as the fencer said), do their worst, they shall never pick a hole in our evidence, nor find a claw or quillet to disinherit us. The world frowns ; no matter, so long as we have found favour with God. These storms may hide the sun from mortal eyes below, heaven finds him nevertheless glorious. Kings rage, and kingdoms swell against us; he ' laughs them to scorn' that favours us. There is no room for fear in the breast that is assured of favour. Lord, give us certainty of thy favour to us, and let the powers of hell spend their venom against us.

' Thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a Son, and shalt call his name Jesus.' This is the foundation of her comfort ; how shall she be sure that she hath found favour with God ? By a very good token, for she shall find God within herself. She need not go up to heaven to search the book, for he that hath the book shall come down from heaven to her. A Son from all eternity, thy Son in temporality; this Son shall bring the records \\'ith him. \Vliat could keep joy out of that heart, from whose womb shall come salvation ?

' Thou shalt call his name Jesus:' non impones nomen, sed vocabis iniposi-tiivi. Not name him, but ' call his name ;' for this belongs to his Father, not to his mother, to give him a name ; God so named him by the angel.

Jesus, a Saviour; the very name secures her; for he that came to save the world, without question would save her that broufrht him into the world. If he redeem ' all his people,' of all people he would redeem his mother.

But a child is pnrndus, a little one; nay, this child is inwjnus, 'Ho shall be gi-eat;' and not coram Iko, 'in the sight of the Lord,' as John Baptist was, Luke i. 15 ; but niaf/iius Dens, the gi'eat God. And lest thy estimate of him should bo confined as to thine own Son only, know he is more, Filiiis Alt mi mi, 'the Son of the Highest.' And how meanly soever thou seemest to thyself or to others, thy Son shall be a king: ' God shall give him a throne.' And no mean king, for he shall have the ' throne of David.' Nor is he a tcmporazy or mortal king, but eternal; to whoso kingdom h<?c termini sunt, nee fines. ' He shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there shall be no end.' Here was a Son, and such a Son as the world never heard of before.

It is natiu'al to women to desire chiUken, and of children generally rather a son than a daughter. The joy of a new-born son digests the bitterness of the mother's travail, John xvi. 21. And this son they would have good, and being good they wish him honourable, and with both these long-lived; and withal the comfort of their age. It hath been no rare thing in tho world for parents to repent their own fmitfuhiess: diy loins are better than an unblest issue; many a father hath such sons as he wisheth unborn. Better had that child's cradle been his coffin, his swaddling-band his winding-sheet, that lives to the shame of his father, to the grief of his mother. Children are certain cares, uncertain comforts. The proof of them makes them either the blessings or crosses of their parents. It was Abraham's joy that he should have a son, a son in his old age, and such a son as Isaac, in whose seed lay the promise of his salvation. So to Zacharias, a son that should be ' his joy, the joy of many,' Luke i. 14 ; sacred to God, beneficial to man, a harbmger of him that was God and man. This was not only comfoi-t, but honour, to his age; news able to tie up that tongue with amazement that was aftenvard tied up with incredulity. So to this blessed virgin, that she should have a Son, and such a Son. To heai* what he should be before he was : Jesns, the name of salvation is sweet; f/reat, power with mercy, sweet and strong; a kinrf over the house of Jacob from his father David; a king of all the world from his Father God. Never was any mother so glad of her son, boni and accomplished, as this virgin was of hers, even before he was conceived.

Ver. 34. ' Then Mary said to the angel. How shall this be, seeing I know not a man ?' If the blessed virgin had not been strong in faith, and full of gi-ace, she had asked more questions than this. Indeed, it was none of the least, but certainly it had not been the last. Who art thou, whence comest thou, who sent thee ? These had been the questions of mere nature. Yea, if reason had granted all this, that ho was an angel, como from heaven, sent by God, yet the remaining difficulties had been enough to suspend sudden belief. What kingdom is this '? where shall it be founded, when erected ? Alas, Herod is too potent; or if ho were not, yet Ciesar commands the world. How, then, should my Son be a king, be a king of Israel ? yea, how should my son be the Son of God ? An unbelieving heart would have stuck at all these ; all these she takes for gianted. A less matter went down more hardly with Zacharias, for all his priesthood. He misdoubts the message, ' How shall I know '?' Luke i. 18 ; Mary doth but demand the manner, ' How shall it be ?' Nature prevailed in him, grace in her. He considers the impossibility, from old age, and long

barrenness, as if years and dry loins could hinder him that is able of stones to raise up children. He did not so suddenly apprehend the infinite power that promised, nor remember that famous pattern of Abraham and Sarah. Mary hath digested greater things than this, and supposing these strange wonders would be done, insists only in the manner of doing. Of this she requires a further information, not doubting de pradicto, but demanding de modo. To Zacharias the message was not so miraculous as the messenger ; to Maiy the messenger was not so miraculous as the message. Zacharias was a holy man, but sin-prised with the unwontedness of that he saw and heard, as if the news were too good to be suddenly believed. His understanding was not yet recollected, his thoughts had not time to debate the matter; therefore at first he entertains that with doubt, which after he received with joy. At the first hearing, it astonished his heart; but when he was well acquainted with it, no man made it more welcome. The gospel hath much ado to win our belief, and they are few that rightly entertain it; but being once received, it fills our souls with such sweetness, that rather than lose it, we would lose our lives.

' Seeing I know not a man.' The angel speaks of a present conception; she so imderstands him, which increaseth the wonder, ' I know not a man.' Well might this make her inquisitive of the means : per coitum is the usual manner of having a son. Let her marriage be consummated, let her have knowledge of her husband, and then to conceive a son would be no wonder. But concipere filium, and non agnoscere virum: this was the marvel. If she were to have a son by Joseph, how then should her son be the Son of God ? Here a demand was necessary, the case required a further intimation. How her virginity should be made fruitful, instantly, sine contractu hominis, was far fi-om a doubt of infidelity. Yea, it rather argues faith; for she believed the main, that God would do it, and inquires the circumstances how he would do it. To be a virgin-mother, might as well open her lips to inquire, as it fills the whole world with admiration to consider. It was then without a man. Fcumina circumdabit viruni; ' A woman shall compass a man,' Jer. xxxi. 22, not a man compass a woman. This is an article of our faith, ' born of the virgin Maiy,' whereof we cannot doubt, and be saved. Here arise divers instructions.

1. God would have his Son born of a virgin, that he might be wholly free from the least tang of corruption ; that the prophecy might be fulfilled, ' Behold, a wgin shaU conceive,' &c., Isa. vii. 14. The Jews, to elude this demonstrative testimony, say that Alma signifies only a young woman, whether married or immarried, that hath known man. But this is a forgery, for the prophet speaks there of a wonder, a mighty wonder, such as the world never heard of the like. But for a young woman that hath known a man to have a son : this were no wonder, it being the common course of nature.

The fathers compare her to Aaron's rod, qua fronduit, et flondt, etfructus protuUt, sine arbore, absque radice. Let the incredulous Jews tell me, quomodo arida virga floruit absque germine, how that sere rod brought forth almonds without any stock or root; and I will tell them, quoinodo sola virgo concepit absque honihie, how the vii'gin conceived without a man. Nee virgfc virorem fructus Icesit emissio, nee virginis pudorem sacri partus editio. We can explicate neither ; nee Jxidams virgo; conceptiirn, nee nos virginis partwn.* The "sirgin marvelled ; she was not ashamed; non quia peperit innupta, terretur ; sed quia genuit intacta, miratur. Joseph at first miscon-

* Aug.

ccivc'd, that bis spouse conceived amiss. But be was satisfied, and would sooner bebeve that a cbild migbt be bom witbout a fatber, than tbat i\Iary could be imcbaste. Credidit plus ijrat'uc, qudni natunc: conceptiuiirin per-spicit, castitatem defendit.* Tbey tbat be good tbemselves, always tbink tbe best of otbers.

2. A virgin, yet a virgin espoused. She knew not her husband, yet she inew herself betrothed to an husband. If a priest's daughter played tbe whore, she was to be burned, Lev. xxi. 9; if a common person's daughter, to be stoned. Well might tbe world, when it saw her pregnancy, suspect her virginity ; but that suspicion is lost in the name of an husband. Witbout this, her own innocency bad not prevented her infamy. Bho needed not this betrothed husband for her own satisfaction, but to defend tbat chastity abroad, which she knew was safe at home. Too many that had not tbe gi'ace to save their maidenheads, yet have the manners to take husbands to save tbeii* credits. Such a marriage is not honour, but a cloak for dishonour. He is mad, that cuts ofi' his leg to get him a crutch, "\\liat fair woman will venom her face, that she may wear a mask'? The bad woman takes a husband ad velamentum turpitudinis; tbe blessed virgin bad a husband ad testimonium virginitatis.

There was further a double end of this betrothment and mamage. First, Tbat the mystery of Christ's incarnation might be concealed from Satan; her espousals blinded him from suspecting her to conceive by tbe Holy Ghost. Secondly, For the comfort of herself and of her babe, in whose sustentation the Lord employed Joseph, that there might be at once a witness and a guardian of her fruitful virginity. He was noble and just; bo was loth to expose her to public shame, or to put her away with a noise ; yet abhorred to touch her whom be thought defiled. In this perplexity he is satisfied by oracle, to prevent tbe ignorant from sin, tbe innocent from shame, and the whole church of God from scandal. At a dead hft God never fails us.

3. Christ was conceived after espousals, not bom till after man-iagc, to grace both the estates. He sanctified virginity with his conception, bo bonom'ed mamage with bis birth. He was conceived of a maid, but a maid espoused; bom of a maid, but a maid married. His mother was a maid for tbe honour of virginity ; his mother was a wife for tbe honour of marriage. To convince them that so admire virginity with the disgi-ace of matrimony, Christ did honour matrimony as w'ell as virginity. He says not, Tbey tbat keep their virginity, but ' Tbey that keep faith and obedience, arc his mothers,' Matt. xii. 49. How long might nuns continue maids (if at least tbei'e be any maids of tbat profession) before tbey could obtain this honour without bearing the will of God, and doing it ? Saint Bernard fits them, ' Mary was a virgin, yet rejoiced in her humility : these votaries forget to be bumble, yet glory in their constrained virginity.'

God honoured marriage in making the fii'st woman for Adam ; and ho honoured it again inmarrjnng the best woman to Joseph. There is no such fountain of comfort on earth as marriage, whether for society or posterity. Tbe marriage was contracted before bis conception, and solemnised beforo his nativity. Thus he that would take flesh of a virgin did yet grace marriage. In this whole work God would have nothing ordinaiy; it was fit she should be a married virgin, that was to be a virgin mother. Amongst all women he chose a virgin; amongst all \-irgins one espoused. If the same God had not been tbe author and blesser of marriage as well as of

* Chrys.

virginitT, lie would not have countenanced virginity by marriage. Thus was he the seed of the woman, not of the man; without the seed of man he would be the son of man ; that he might take man's nature without man's coiTuption. ' Born of a virgin.'

4. It is a question whether there be more wonder in the conception, or in the fruit; in the conception of a virgin, or in Jesus conceived. The one is above example, the other seems above miracle. Here we break forth in Bernard's admiration : 0 venter latior dementis, cUffusior terris, ccqmcior coelis; that could contain him that contains the world ! The whole world moves in God, and }"et God moved in a little room ; that the daughter of a man should be the mother of God, how wondrous ! Qucb virgo tarn suhli-mis, id saliitetur ah angelo: tarn hwnilis, tit desponsetur fabro ;■•' let me add, Tarn nobiUs, ut sit jtrccgnans Deo. There was inclosed, virtus in infinnitate, inmajcstatehumilitas,] ceternitasin immortaUtate,\ in came Divinitas, inmatre virfjiuitas, in virgine facnnditas. All are Avonderful.

But the fruitfulness of a virgin doth not more exceed all wonders than the humanising of God doth exceed that. For the former, God made Eve out of Adam, a woman of a man without a woman. Why not now, a man out of a woman without a man ? He made then a woman out of a man sleeping ; why not now a man out of a woman living ? Then a woman of a man's rib; why not here a man of a woman's flesh ? This, then, was but the reimprovement of that power which created the world. God was almighty enough thus to make a man; but how comes the Almighty to be made ? That God should be incarnate was an abasing of his majesty; that incarnate of a woman was the exaltation of a creature beyond all example. If it were not so wondrous, how was it matter of faith ? and being so, it is wondrous that faith doth believe it. But he that to the first miracle, that a \irgin did conceive, added a second, and greater, that God was bom, let his gi-ace work a third miracle, giving us all faith constantly to beheve it. Yea, let our faiths wholly rest on this Son of Mary, that our souls may rest with this Son of Mary for ever,

Ver. 35. ' The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee.' This is the conclusion of the angel's message, or the main confirmation of the virgin. After this she asks no more questions ; but subscribes with an humble and faithful fiat. Her reply was not, ' How can this be ?' but, ' How shall this be ?' Accordingly doth the angel answer. He tells her not of the manner, but of the Author of this act, which was sufficient to confu-m her faith, ' The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee.

1. The conception of Christ's manhood was the action of the whole Trinity, ^\^ly, then, is it ascribed to the Holy Ghost ? Answer: Not to exclude the rest, but (1.) to shew that it was the free grace of God, which is often termed the Holy Ghost; § for the manhood deserved not this dignity of union. (2.) Because the Father and the Son effected it by the Holy Ghost. So was it his work immediately, and in a special manner. Good reason have we to be thankful to all the three persons, to the Father for ordaining this gannent, to the Holy Ghost for weaving it, to the Son for wearing it: to the whole Deity for clothing us with it, and making us righteous by it.

2. Needs must that be holy which is made by the Most Holy, and united to the Most Holy, and must please and pacify the Most Holy, for them that are most miholy. How would sin touch hini that was born of a holy virgin, * Bern, -f Qn. ' In hmiililate majcsias r—ET>. J Qu. ' Mortalitate ?'— Ed. § Aug.

and conceived by the most holy God ? It was God's decree that what sin or defect soever Adam brought on himself, he should derive it to ail his posterity. So when ho begat a son, ho gave him his sin. Every man that begets a child is in Adam's room, and begets him in the cormption of nature. To evade this, Christ, though he came of man, was not begot by man; and man propagates his corruption to no more than he begets. Other men ai-e from Adam, and by Adam. Christ was from him, but not by him, as the procreant cause. His soul was infused by the Creator ol spirits, his body made of the virgin's substance. The matter was her Hesh, not the colour of the painter, nor the bread of the baker, when it is charmed by the conjuror. If the bread become his very body when it is consecrated, I do not see but the baker and the priest have done as much as the virgin Marj'.

3. Neither yet is the Holy Ghost Christ's father. He did not begot him, but formed him. A human father is not a bare efficient cause, but confers the matter from himself, whereof the child is made. The Holy Ghost did not minister the matter from his own substance, whereof Christ was made, but took a part of human nature fi'om the virgin, and of that he made the body of Christ within her. He was conceived, not of the substance, but by the power of the Highest; not b}' any generation, but adumbration or benediction of the Holy Ghost.

4. This was the virgin's satisfaction, to know, quis and quit!, w-ho was the undertaker, and what he would do. Let us not be ambitious to know more than the angel told Mary. Her faith was herewith contented, and shall our curiosity be uutpiiet ? For the manner even of a natural conception, no mother knows her own. Naturalists may prattle what they will, but sooner shall they see the grass gi'ow, the dial's hand move, than understand man's fonning in the womb. It is, then, impious presumption for flesh and blood to search how the Son of God took flesh and blood, Ps. cxxxix. 15, 16. If the course of ordinary generation be a secret, how past all comprehension is this extraordinary operation ? Of things that concern us, God hath been no niggard in his revelations. It is fit for us to let him alone with the things that concern himself, and that so immediate^. He meant the benefit of this incarnation public, the manner mu'aculously secret. The Holy Ghost did cast a shadow over the vii'gin, and withal a shadow over this mysteiy. Why should we seek a clear light where God himself will have a shadow ? The light of the world was conceived in a shadow. Let the shadow alone, look unto the light. The light was conceived in a shadow, that we who were in the shadow of death might come to the light of life. Or the Holy Ghost overshadowed the virgin, and her son Christ shall overshadow his church. Tahernacnlum Dei, umJimculum diet. ' There shall be a tabernacle for a shadow in the day time for heat, and for a covert from the stonu and the rain,' Isa. iv. 6. If we be cold, he is the Sun of righteousness to warm us ; if hot, he is refrif/eritun, a shadow of refreshing to cool us. Thus is it a shadow of secrecy from our curious heads, and a shadow of mercy to our humble hearts. The Holy Ghost did it, and the Holy Ghost give us faith to believe it, and comfort by it!

5. To make this useful to ourselves. First, Christ was conceived thus holy, that he might sanctify us. As the first Adam was the root of all corruption, so the second is the root of all sanctification. No unclean thing can enter into heaven, and we are all pri\y to our o\mi uncleannesses. How, then, shall we enter ? He that was conceived and bom holy sanctifies our conception and birth. Our life contracts new uncleamicss, his

holiness is sufficient for us. Next, in this he is our pattern. We must be conceived anew by the Holy Ghost, that we may be holy in imitation, as he was in perfection, 1 John iii. 3. He conceived Christ in utero MaricB, and he conceives us in utero Ecchsice. But if we be thus renewed, we will strive to keep oui-selves undefiled. He could not have been a fit Saviour for us unless he were first sanctified. Nor can we be fit members of him xmless we be purged.

But that I make choice to insist on here, is this. He that was conceived of the Holy Spirit, in the womb of a holy virgin, how much ' fairer than all the sons of men' must he needs be ? He that is so holy cannot but be lovely. ' If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be an Anathema Maranatha,' 1 Cor. xvi. 22. The supposition of a dangerous sin, the imposition of a heavy punishment. Anathema is properly, a thing laid up; so things dedicated to God, were called Anathemata, reposita, seposita. Now they be called cursed, because they are cursed that violate them. So, cursed is he that loves not the Lord Jesus. ' The end of the commandment is love,' 1 Tim. i. 5. There is j)&^factivum, charity; perfectihile, the commandment ; perfectio, the end. Omnia CBStimanda sunt a fine. Love is that noble end of all. 8i adsit sanitas, non opus est medico: si adsit chaiitas, non ojms est pracepto. Saint Augustine reduceth those four cardinal virtues to charity, as to their genus ; and makes all their diflerences, but the various effects of love. Justice is but love, in due retributions. Fortitude is but love, in bearing injuries. But charity is only loved by those that understand it, and understood by those that love it. Deus diligendus in quantum diligibilis; this proper only to the Trinity. In quantum dlligi potest parte diligentis; this is excellent in saints and angels ; in us imperfect. Yet we must love him with all our heart, mind, and soul; with a threefold totaUty. First, ex parte objecti, aU in God. Secondly, ex 2^<^^'t^ subjecti, with aU in man. Thirdly, ex 2^a,>'te temporis, for ever. Christ is called Spes nostra, Pax nostra, Justitia nostra, Solus nostra; all with an adjunct; but Deus est charitas, God is love. Love in Di\dnity, is one person of the Trinity. There is charitas increata, God's love to us ; and charitas creata, our love to God : both are his, the one et'ga nos, the other, in nobis, Eph. vi. 24.

' Grace be with all them that love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity.' Not all that hear of him ; multitudes flocked about him, not so much for his veniat regnum, as for his panem quotidianum. Of the beasts that came to hear Oi-pheus, being examined, in the fable, all came not for the melody; but the hart for fear of the hon's anger, the wolf to find a lamb there, the ass for company, the fox to observe. Beggars come to funeral sermons, not for their soul, but for the dole. ' He that hath ears to hear, let him hear;' the gouty hath both his feet, but not to walk ; the blind hath both his eyes, but not to see ; the manacled malefactor hath both his hands, but not to do their offices ; so many men have both their ears, but not to hear the word of God. Some are for the crotchets of Zion's music; some are for sleep, but there God may take them napping. But if the love of Christ do not open our ears, the word of Christ will not enter our hearts. Not all that know Christ; Judas knew him, no man thinks that he loved him. Historia dat cognoscere, gratia dat diligere. We must strive to see Jesus by Jesus, not by story, but by Christ, Luke vii. 47. * Give me thy heart,' not thy brain ; not the imaginative, but the affective, part pleaseth God. Mary Magdalene had much given her, and much forgiven her, not because she knew much, but loved much. "VMiere love is, knowledge is inseparable ;

yet knowledge may be, where love is not. Not all that fear him : there is ti)nor buiiKs, iiialus et )nivtus. Evil fear hath both eyes on the punishment, good fear hath both eyes on the puuisher; mixed fear hath one eye on the misery, another on the cause. There can be no love without fear, there may bo a fear without love. Not all that praise him ; many men praise Ohrist for that he never gave them. The wealth that comes by injustice, the honour that is got by flattery, are his curses rather than blessings. They may praise Christ for this, but Christ will never praise them for this. Not all that call upon him, when their petitions relish not so much of love to Christ, as to themselves. All riches are in the hand of God, and innumerable clients flock to his gates for his goods, not for himself. But no man is to love bencjicium, plus qiiam benefactorem. All these duties be nothing without love; if love be their mistress, under her service they shall be entertained.

He gives us all oiu- wisdom, and honour, and valour, and riches ; yet he requires neither riches, nor valour, nor honour, nor wisdom, but our love. Yet, alas ! the best of om* love is but like a hmip of gold, sophisticated with da'ossy mixtm'es ; there is gold in it, but we know not how to find it. But shall a man despise the gospel of Christ, and say he loves him ? It were no good argument of a subject's love, to tear his prince's proclamations, or to misuse his messengers. Shall we ^•ilipend his sacraments, trample on his blood, and say we love him ? Shall we swear him all over, open his side with new wounds, and say we love him ? Wilt thou deface his pictures, the poor, his hviug images : spit on his face, by despising his holy rites, give him a new potion of gall, by drunken carouses; clraw blood from his heart by oppressions, and yet say thou lovest him ? If this be love, there is no hatred. Christ may well say. Give me thy hate, I do not like this love. Lord, let all that love not thee * be written ui the dust; but let those that love thee rejoice in thee,' Ps. v. 11. Blessing be upon all them that love the Lord Jesus.

' Therefore that holy thing which shall be bom of thee, shall be called the Son of God.' This one sentence confutes all the heresies of the world concerning Chi-ist, and du'ects our faith to believe three things. 1. A duplicity of natm'es. 2. A real distinction of them. 3. A personal union in Christ.

1. That there is a duphcity of natures, with a verity and subsistence of them both, the words evince : ' That holy thing which shaU be bom of thee,' there is one natm-e, ' shall be called the Son of God,' there is another nature, and both these natures are one person. * To us a child is bom,' Isa. ix. 6; there is a nature human ; and he shall be called ' The mighty God,' there is a natm-e divine. ' God sent his Son, made of a woman,' Gal. iv. 4. His Son, therefore tmly God ; made of a woman, therefore truly man. Martian said, he was God, but not man; Alius, he was man, but not God: both their heresies are here convinced. Is there any doubt in vocabitiir, he shall be called ] Answer: He is God before, but now this person shall be called so : a man is called by his name, yet his name doth not make him a man ; they that deny Christ this title, call him out of his name. To be called God is to be acknowledged God : all shall so acknowledge him, either here in a gracious confession, or in a glorious confusion hereafter. He is as eternal as God, Rev. i. 17 ; as infinite as God, Matt, xxviii. 20; as omniscient as God, Matt. ix. 4; as omnipotent as God, John V. 19. The apostles called upon him, when they cast out devils, Acts xvi. 18. He called upon none, but expelled them by his own power,

VOL. III. B

'I command thee to come out.' He creates as God, John i. 3 ; he commands as God, Matt. viii. 26 ; he forgives as God, Matt. ix. 6, Acts vii. 60; he sanctifies as God, John i. 12 ; he glorifies as God, John x. 28, Luke xxiii. 42. He must be beUeved on as God, John iii. 18 ; loved as God, 1 Cor. xvi. 22; obeyed as God, Matt. xvii. 5; prayed to as God, Acts vii. 59; praised as God, Rev. v. 13 ; adored as God, Heb. i. 6, Phil. ii. 10. Therefore he is God. He was born as man, bred as man, fed as man, he slept as man, wept as man, sorrowed as man, feared as man, he did sufier as man, bleed as man, die as man, therefore he is man.

2. That there is a real distinction of these two natures, is evident in the words, for the conviction of Eutichees. There is no conversion of the one into the other, as he changed water into wine; no confusion, as meats be mingled in the stomach ; no abolition of either, no composition of both ; but they remain distinct in one person. 1. The Godhead cannot be the manhood, nor can the manhood be the Godhead. 2. They have distinct wills. ' Not my will, but thy will be done, 0 Father,' Luke xxii. 42; plainly differencing the will of a creature from the will of a Creator. 3. The actions in the work of redemption are inseparable, yet distinguishable, * I lay down my Hfe, and I take it up again, John x. 18. To lay it down, was the action of man, not of God ; to take it up, was the action of God, not of man. The humanity is much magnified by the divinity, but the divinity is nothing altered by the humanity.

3. For the personal union, against Nestorius; here be two things, and but one person. As soul and body make but one man, so the Son of God, and the Son of Mary, make but one Christ. The manhood was a nature of itself, it was never of itself a person, but is united to the divinity ; as the misletoe hath no root of its own, but grows and hves in the body of an oak. In the Trinity be three persons and one nature, in Christ be two natures and one person. By virtue of this union: 1. The manhood is dignified with incomparable honour, exalted far above the angels. 2. Whatsoever good may be in any creature, that doth not deify it, is without measure poured into the manhood. 3. The participation of ofiice is given it, that Christ is a mediator as man, as well as God, and his flesh is the bread of life. 4. There is a communication of properties : God is said to redeem by his blood, 1 Cor. ii. 8, and the Son of man to forgive sins, and judge the world ; yet, indeed, only man hath blood, and only God forgiveth sins. Thus, while he was talking with Nicodemus on earth, he was even then in heaven, John iii. 13. Such speeches be true in concreto, not in abstracto: as they be both joined together, not as separated one from the other. 5. The manhood being combined with the Godhead, is adored with di%ine honour; as the honour done to the king, redounds to the crown on his head. Therefore coujitemur adorahHem in curpore, non secundum corpus.

It was fit that the Son of God, coming to redeem us, should be made man. 1, That in that nature wherein God was offended, he might be satisfied. 2. The law was to he fulfilled by man, therefore God became man to fulfil it. 3. The price of om* redemption was death ; but the Son of God could not die till he was made the Son of Mary. 4. God is most high, sinful man most low; how should these be brought together, nisi in uno seipso junxisset ima S!w??»?/s .?* God must descend to man, that man might ascend to God. 5. The Mediator must speak between both parties ; to man fi-om God, to God for man ; therefore it was fit for him to be both

* Greeror.

God and man. Such was tho heinousness of sin, that no nature could have made satisfaction for it, unless it had been joined with God, and sustained 1)V him. Such was the mercy of God, that whereas wo were the vilest of all creatures, except tho de\'ils, our nature should be exalted above the angels. As he descended to take our human nature, wo should strive to como near his divine nature. Without this, wo are still miserable; for reprobates are one nature with him, and he with them ; yet he is not their Immanuel, not God with them, but rather God against them. By his conception of Mary, he is one flesh with us ; by om* holy faith in tho covenant of grace, wo are made one spirit with him.

Ver. 38. ' And Mary said. Behold the handmaid of tho Lord ; bo it unto me according to thy word.' This is her assent; herewith she rests satisfied, and strives not to pick objections out of the particularities ; but after this conclusive solution of all diflicultics, she makes no further demand. 0, happy faith, how fit was her womb to conceive the flesh of God's Son, whose breast had so soon given assent to God's will! It was the Holy Ghost that •wTought both these miracles ; first, that of faith in her soul, then that of conception in her body. Thomas did first exercise his senses, and then believe ; Mary first believed, and then perceived. So soon as she understands the good ploasm'e of God, she argues no more, but quietly rests herself in a confident expectation ; ' Behold the handmaid of the Lord,' &c. The example of her blessed faith afibrds matter of instraction.

1. ^Mien we plainly understand the will of God, let us never dispute against it. All thwart arguments are the arguments of unbelief; and howsoever their colour be a desire of satisfaction, thcj' are plain rebellion. AMien Eve gave Satan leave to dispute against that known precept, she lost herself and all the world. 'WTien God saith,' Thou shalt not rob thy God,' sacrilege hero disputes; * Thou shalt be subject to powers,' Romish treachery disputes ; ' Thou shalt not swear falsely,' Douay disputes against it, yea, flatly contradicts it; with evasion, with reservation, with distinction, thou mayest do it. What devil can be more adverse to the manifest truth ? Thus, when we preach the known will of God, our hearers dispute against it; but think what you will, and flatter your hearts with your better reasons, if you do cavil, you are not Christians. In the day of judgment, Christ will give the sentence of decision. Thus I said, and thus you said; which of us two shall have the better ? Disobedience is always bad enough, but then intolerable when it hath an advocate. Causa j'atwcinio non bona pejor erit. We all transgress ; but if we dispute for transgression, what shall moderate but confusion ? That same ca:ca ohcdientia, to go blindfold whither God will lead us, to obey without arguing, shall be rewarded. All sciscitations are from pride and solf-\\ill; and instead of ' Thy will be done,' why shouldst thou so will it ? So God that gives laws, must give account for his laws ; and that to his creatures. Hell is entailed to these peremp-toiy questions ; respondehitur in tonnentis. But in humble obedience, let us resign over ourselves with this holy virgin. ' Behold the servants of the Lord; be it unto us according to his word.'

2. There is no heart of man so faithful, but there be in it some sparks of infidehty ; so to believe, as to have no doubts at all, is scarce incident to flesh and blood. Faith is no more destroyed by some doubts, than the day is annihilated by some clouds. There is nothing of Adam left in us, when there is no reluctation of unbelief. It is the pertection of our mortal state to be conquerors, not to be without enemies. Therefore, v.-e nm to the Scripture in a devout examination, to the Spirit by humble petition, for

a holy wind to disperse these clouds of nature. Therefore, we heap up arguments to our own souls ; the more fortifications, the better assurance. We would smite these rebel-thoughts, as Joash should have smitten the earth and Syria, * till they were consumed,' 2 Kings xiii. 19 ; but that final stroke is reserved till the stroke of death. Good reasons, from good grounds, are good helps to estabhsh faith; grounds they cannot be, they may be helps. The faith that hath no other tressels to stand upon but discourse, will soon Ml to pieces. I would be able to give a reason of my faith ; I would be loth my faith should depend upon my reason.

It is good to be furnished with arguments, for the conviction of gain-sayers. These weapons do well in the school; but when I plead my cause with God, I lay down my weapons at his feet: ' Lord, in thy word is my trust.' Faith and reason have their hmits ; ubi desinit philosophus, incipit medicus; yea, rather ubi desinit philosophus, incipit Christianus. Where reason ends, faith begins. Reason does well at home, like Dinah in her father's house, under her mother's wing ; if she once straggle abroad, she is soon ravished by infidelity. Malapert Hagar, that, because she hath gotten a great belly, despiseth her mistress, must be driven out of doors. If saucy reason encroach upon faith, it is as if the foot should invade the office of the hand. Christians are bound to deny themselves ; and the chief piece of ourselves is our reason. Let reason get the head, it wiU prevail with will, and will commands the affections ; so this triumvirate shall govern man, and not faith. But as when three ambassadors were sent from Rome, to appease the discord between Nicomedes and Prusias, whereof one was troubled with a megrim in his head, another was lame of the gout, and the third was a fool, Cato said. This embassage hath neither head, nor feet, nor heart; so that man shall neither have a head to conceive the truth, nor a foot to walk in the ways of obedience, nor a heart to receive the comforts of salvation; that suffers reason, will, and affection to usurp upon faith. God will be obeyed, not questioned. The child asks not a reason of his father's command, but doth it. If faith be only at reason's finding, we shall have a fat reason, but a lean faith. Thus God may say the word long enough before we believe it, unless he doth make our reason comprehend it. This is for a Christian to tm-n back again unto man, and from man to beast. For how justly doth God turn his reason into folly, that hath turned his faith into reason ! No reason in the world can comprehend the conception of a virgin, or the incarnation of God, or the creation of the world, or the resm-rection of the body; yet he that doth not believe all this, shall never be saved.

3. Faith is best estabhshed by the contemplation of the Lord's omni-potency. This was the angel's conclusion to the vii-gin, ' For with God nothing shall be impossible ;' a strong prevention of all doubts, a foundation of all assurance. Here, here fix thyself against all outward assaults, against all inward hesitations. ' He is faithful that hath promised;' he is able to perform what he hath promised. Among men, some are faithful and not able, some are able and not faithful, some are neither ; God is both. His promise is not beyond his power ; his power never came short of his promise. Promise and performance are distant to us m time ; both are at once in the eternal God. Let the eye of om- mind look upward; if right forward, or downward, or sideward, everything is a block in our way. David was promised a kingdom, yet saw nothing present but Saul's hate and persecution, so long he looked forward. ' I am old,' saith Zacharias ; how should I have a son ? he looked downward to his dry loins. The

prophet's servant, seeing the Syrian troops, cried, 'Alas! master, how shall we do ?' 2 Kings vi. 15 ; ho looked round ahout. His eyes were directed upwards; there he saw relief. "VMiile we look upward to Him that hath bidden us believe, there is no point of faith so hard, but it shall go easily down with us. AMien wo shall subject all the powers of our reason and will to the word of our Maker, this is the noble proof of foith. Lord, thou hast charged us to beheve our own salvation by Chi-ist. ' Be it unto us according to thy word.' All the doubt is in our believing, not in the performing ; give us to believe what thou hast promised. We need not ask thee to perform thy promise ; for ' in Jesus Chi-ist all thy promises are Yea and Amen.'

GOD'S AMER AND MAN'S COMFORT:

TWO SEEMONS PEEACHED AND PUBLISHED BY THOMAS ADAMS *

PUBLISHED IN 1653.

* See Introduction.— Ed.

TO THE

MOST HONOUEAELE AND CHAETTABLE BENEEACTOES,

WHOM GOD HATH HONOURED FOR HIS ALMONERS, AND SANCTIFIED TO BE HIS DISPENSERS OF THE FRUITS OF CHARITY AND MERCY

TO ME,

IN THIS MY NECESSITOUS AND DECREPIT OLD AGE,

I HUMBLY PRESENT

THIS TESTIMONY OF MY THANKFULNESS,

WITH MY INCESSANT APPRECATIONS TO THE FATHER OF ALL JIERCIES,

TO REWARD THEM FOR IT IN THIS LIFE, AND TO

CROWN THEIR SOULS WITH Ei'ERLASTING JOY AND GLORY IN THE LIFE TO COME,

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST, OUR LORD. AMEN.

THOMAS ADAMS.

GOD'S ANGER.

0 Lord God of hosts, how long wilt thou be anrjry with thy people that prayeth? — Psalm LXXX. 4.

It liatli been said of war, that it is malum, an evil; but it may be a neces-sarium, a necessar}' evil. It is good sometimes to bunt tbe wolf, though it is better to fodder the sheep. They speak of a drowning man, etiam ad novaculam, that he will rather take hold of a knife than of nothing. A very coward will catch the edge of a naked sword to save his Hfe, though it cut his fingers. Man being cast out of paradise, and that paradise guai'ded with a sword in the hand of a cherub, durst not attempt a re-entiy, because he was guilty. But commonwealths, that have lost any part of their territories or just privileges by foreign invasion and by hostile violence, may justly ventm-e upon the sword, and fairly hope for a recoveiy, because they are innocent; et hanc picem amoViri gladio. Irene signifies peace ; yet the Turk could sacrifice his beauteous L-ene to the god of war. If war in itself were utterly unla-vvful, God would never have accepted this title, ' the Lord of hosts.' Yet in this stj'le he takes such delight, that he is oftener called the God of hosts, in the former Testament, than by any other title. In those two prophecies of Isaiah and Jeremiah, it is given to him no less than one hundi-ed and thirty times.

All creatures are mustered, and trained, and put into garrison, or brought forth into the field, by his command. Which way can we look beside his armies ? If upward into heaven, there is a band of soldiers, even a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, Luke ii. 13. If to the lower heavens, there is a band of soldiers. Gen ii. 1; it was universa militia cmli, to which those idolaters burnt incense. On the earth, not only men are marshalled to his service; so Israel was called the ' host of the Uving God;' but even the brate creatiu-es are ranged in aiTays. So God did leyj^ a band of flies against the Egyptians; and a band of frogs that marched into then- bedchambers. He hath troops of locusts, Prov. xxx. 27, and armies of caterpillars. Not only the chariots and horsemen of heaven to defend his prophet; but even the basest, the most iudocible, and despicable creatures, wherewith to confound his enemies. If GoUath stalk forth to defile* the God of Israel, he shall be confuted with a pebble. If Herod swells up to a god, God will set his vermin on him, and all the

* Qu. ' defy ?'— Ed.

king's guard cannot save bim from them. You have heard of rats that could not be beaten off till they had destroyed that covetous prelate, and of the fly that killed Pope Adrian. God hath more ways to punish than he hath creatui'es.

The Lord God of hosts is not properly a title of creation, but of providence. All creatures have their existence from God as their Maker; but so have they also their order from him as their Governor. It refers not so much to their being as to their marshalling; not to their natural but militant estate; not only as creatures do they owe him for their making, but as they are soldiers for their managing. Their order is warlike, and they serve under the colours of the Almighty. So that here, God would be respected, not as a creator, but as a general. His anger, therefore, seems so much the more fearful, as it is presented to us under so gi'eat a title, ' the Lord God of hosts is angry.' They talk of Tamerlane, that he could daunt his enemies with the very look of his countenance : Oh ! then what terror dwells in the countenance of the offended God! The reprobates shall call to the rocks to hide them from the wrath of the Lamb, Rev. vi. 16. If ira agni doth so affright them, how terrible is ira leonis, the Avrath of the lion ? It may justly trouble us all to hear that the Lord, the Lord God of hosts, is angi-y; in the sense whereof the prophet breaks forth here into this expostulation, ' 0 Lord God of hosts, how long wilt thou be angry with thy people that prayeth ?' Wherein we have five propositions or inferences naturally arising out of the text.

I. That God may be angry: for that is manifestly implied in the text, ' God is angry.'

II. That his anger may last a great while : * 0 Lord, hoiv long wilt thou be angry ?'

III. "That his anger may extend to the whole nation : ' how long wilt thou be angry with thy people ?' all the people.

IV. That his anger may fall upon his own people, even his pecuhar and chosen flock : ' how long wilt thou be angry with thy people ?'

V. That his anger may dwell upon them in their devotions, and not be removed by their very prayers: ' how long wilt thou be angry with thy people that prayeth ?' Yea, against their prayer ?

Now, God is never angry without a cause ; he is no froward God, of no tetchy and pettish nature; a cause there must be, or he would never be angry. There can be no cause but sin; we never read that God was angiy for anything else. Some he hath corrected without respect unto sin, as Job ; but he was never angry with any man but for the sin of that man. It is the sin of the people that hath thus grieved God; and it is the anger of God that hath thus grieved the people. Sin must be supposed to run along with his anger, throughout the text, as the ecliptic line does through the zodiac.

1. If it were not for sin, God would not be angry.

2. If it were not for the continuance of sin, he would not be so long angry.

3. If it were not for the universality of sin, he would not be angiy with the ivhole people.

4. If it were not for the unnatural ingratitude of sia, he would not be angry with his own peoj^le.

5. If it were not for the base hypocrisy of sin, he would not be angry with his jjeople that prayeth.

Thus, then, the argument lies fair and plain before us :— 1. It is sin that makes God angry.

2. It is the continuance of sin that makes him hnri fm^\

3. It is the generaUty of sin that makes him angry with the xchole people.

4. It is the unthankfulness of sin, or the sin of uuthankfuhacss, that makes him angrj' with his ou-n people.

5. Lastly ; It is the h}^ocrisy of sin, or the sin of hjiiocrisy, that makes him so long angry with his owia people thdii ]:traycth.

I. We provoke him by our rebellions, and he is angry.

II. We continue our provocations against him, and he is Jong angry,

III. We provoke him universally, and so he is angry with us all; not with some ottenders here and there, but with the ivholepeople.

IV. We provoke him by our uukindness ; for whom he hath done so much good, and upon whom he has heaped so many blessings ; and so he is angry with his own people.

V. Lastly ; We provoke him by our dissimulations ; approaching to him with our lips, and keeping back om* hearts ; we pray unto him, and yet live against him ; we call upon his name, and rebel against his will; and so he is angry, and long angry, and long angiy with the nhole people, and long angry with his onii people, and long angiy with his o^^■ll people that prayeth.

I. God may be angry; and sin is the cause of his anger; that is the first proposition. Man may be angiy without sin, not without perturbation ; God is angry without either perturbation or sin. His anger is in his nature, not by anthropopathy; but properly, being his corrective justice, or his vindicative justice. Iratiis videtur, quia tanquam iratus operatiir. Our anger is a most impotent passion ; his a most clear, fi-ee, and just operation. By this affection in ourselves, we may guess at the perfection that is in God. The dissolute securitans think that God doth but smile at the absurdities of men ; that ludit in humanis ; that theii- di-unkeuness and adulteries rather make him merry than angry. Like some carnal father, that laughs at the ridiculous beha\iour of his children, to whom their wanton speeches and actions are but a pleasure, and in which he rather encourageth than chides. Indeed, God is said to laugh, Ps. ii. 4. He that sits in heaven, laughs them to scom ; but woe be to the man at whose fooleries God laughs. It is a dissembhng falsehood in man to smile and betray, as Judas began his treachery with a kiss. Such are likened to those bottled windy ch-inks, that laugh in a man's face, and then cut his throat. But this laughter in God argues not so much what he does, as what they suffer, when, by frustrating their sinful pui-poses, he exposeth them to contempt and scom. Dei ridere, est hominem ludihrio exponere. If a little ant, creeping out of a molehill, should march forth, and proffer to wrestle with a giant, there were yet some proportion in this challenge ; but there is none of a finite power with an infinite. Audacious sinners, that dare provoke the Lord of hosts ! WTiat are all the armies and foi-ces of tyrants, to oppose the omnipotent God ? He will make a feast of them for the fowls of the air, whom he invites to the flesh of captains, and to the flesh of kings, Rev. xix. 18. Let earth and hell conspu-e, let there be a confederate band of men and devils; how easily can he command the one to their dust, and the other to then* chains ! What power have they cither of motion or of being, but from him against whom they fight ? Our God is a consuming fire, and he will consume them not only in anger, but in laughter. The catastrophe of all rebellion is but the sarvasnios or bitter scorn of God.

There is no less diflerence between God's anger and his favour, than between death and life ; death in the most dismal hoiTor, and life in the most comfortable sweetness of it. * In his favour there is life,' Ps. xxx. 5 ;

deatli in his anger ; for when ' thou art angry all our days are gone,' Ps. xc. 9. There is great light given to contraries by their comparison. Look first a little upon the favour of God. ' Oh, how excellent is thy loving-kindness, 0 Lord,' Ps. xxxvi. 7. * Thy saints shall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy house, and thou wilt make them to drink of the river of thy pleasures.' What follows upon his favour but satisfaction, and peace, and joy, and eternal life ? When the deluge of water had defaced that great book of nature, Noah had a copy of every kind of creature with him in that famous library, the ark, out of which they were reprinted to the world. So he that hath the favour of God in the Ark of the Covenant, hath the original copy of all blessings ; if they could all have perished, yet so they might be restored. God is the best storehouse, the best treasury, 0 happy men, that have their estates laid up there ! Though friends, goods, and life forsake us, yet if God's gracious countenance shine upon us, that will be life, and goods, and friends unto us. These benefits and comforts flow from his favour.

But, alas ! how terrible is his anger ! He hath scourged some in very mercy, till they have smarted under his rod. Job complains that * the terrors of God do fight against him,' Job vi. 4 ; and David says, ' From my youth up, thy terrors have I suffered with a troubled mind,' Ps. Ixxxviii. 15, 16. If he will do thus much in love, what shall be the terrors of his wrath ? If he hath drawn blood of his dear ones, what shall be the plague of wilfal sinners ? If this be the rod of his children, what are the scorpions provided for his enemies ? What comfort can any find in all the prosperous fortunes upon earth, with whom God is angry in heaven ? If that mighty pagan could apprehend this, he would find small safety in his guard of Janissaries, and less pleasure in his brutish seraglio. It is a vain conceit of that potentate, who, refusing the name of Pirn, would be called Felice —^happy, not godly. But there can be no felicity without God's blessing ; and he will not bless, where he is not blessed. But Sylla, surnamed Felix, accounted it not the least part of his fortunes, that Metellus, surnamed Pius, was his friend. Piety is the best friend to Fehcity, though Felicity does not always befriend Piety.

That is but a wretched prosperity upon which God looks in anger. If the sun were wanting, it would be night for all the stars ; and if God frown upon a man, for all the glittering honours of this world, he sits in the shadow of death. Let him be never so rich in lands and waters, yet his springs have lost their sweetness, his vines their fruitfulness, his gold hath lost its colour, his precious stones their value and lustre. I mean, the virtue and comfort of all these are gone away with the favour of God. If our house were paved with a floor of gold, and walled with pearls and diamonds, and yet the roof wide open to the violence of heaven, would these shelter us from storms and tempest ? Would we like to be so lodged in winter nights ? Or were our house roofed with cedar, and the walls hung with arras ; yet if the floor be rotten, and under it a bottomless pit, could we sleep in quiet ? There can be no safety when God is angry. His wrath may come thundering from heaven, and suddenly sink rebellious smners into hell; and then where is all their honour ? when their mortal part lies in the dishonourable dust, and their immortal part sufi"ers in the inextinguishable fire.

Thus terrible is the anger of God ; now what is he angry withal, but sin ? That is the perpetual make-bate between God and us ; the fuel of the fii-e of his indignation. ' Your iniquities have separated between you

and your God,' Isa. lix. 2. For this cause ho looks upon us as a stranger, yea, as au enemy; • but they rebelled, and vexed his Holy Spirit; therefore he was tui-ned to be their enemy, and he fought against them,' Isa. Ixiii. 10. But they rebelled: man's occasion of offending God is but a but, a nothing, no cause at" all; God's occasion of being angry with men is a therefore, a cause sufficient, and that cause is sin. Search the holy book all over, and you shall never find God angry but for sin. Nor doth the flame of his wrath break out upon every sin, but only when sin grows impudent and past shame, We were wont to say, that Veritas non quterit awjulos; but now vitium non qufcrit angulos. It doth that in a braverj% with which the false prophet was threatened, that he should do it in fear, 1 Kings xxii, 25; it runs from chamber to chamber, from house to house, not to hide itself, but to boast itself. We so provoke the Lord, that we do not only anger him, but are angry with him. If the winds do not blow, and the rain faU, as we would have it; if anything faUs out cross to oui- desii'es; we even vex at God himself, as if he were bound to wait upon our humours. No marvel if God be angry with iis, when we dare to be angry with him, by murmimng at his actions, and calling his providence to question. ' Doest thou well to be angry ?' 0 man, Jonah iv. 4. No ; it is exceeding Ul, and dangerous. We may tremble to think that the pot may fall out with the potter, and man be angiy with his Maker. It is this meretricious and shameless forehead of sin that angers God. And in this anger we here find him, but let us not so leave him; and yet the next point tells us that his wrath is not suddenly pacified.

n. He may be long angiy. That's the second proposition. Usque quo, Domine! It is not for a tit, like some flash of powder, but may burn long, ' How long, 0 Lord, wilt thou be angry for ever ? and shaU thy jealousy bum like tire ?' Ps. Ixxix. 5. He visits his own Israel with a long dearth ; during all those thi-ee years of drought and scarcity, God's altar smoked with daily saciifices, and heaven was soUcited with daily prayers, yet still he was angri/; and why may not David complain, in this psalm, of that famine ? We are not at the first sensible of common evils; in war, dearth, or pestilence, we think only of shifting for om-selves, or finding out convenient refuges, like foxes in a storm, that run to the next bm-rows, and study not how to remove pubhc judgments. But the continuance of an afliiction sends us to God, and calls upon us to ask for a reckoning. An evil that is suddenly gone, is as suddenly forgotten; as men stnick in their sleep, cannot quickly find themselves ; so the blow doth rather astonish than teach us. But when the bui'den Ues long upon us, wo will at last complain of the weight, and seek to ease ourselves.

Indeed, there be.some sinners more insensible, more insensate than beasts; if we find the hungi-iest ox feeding in the meadow, and cannot with many pricks of the goad make him remove from his place, we wonder at his stupidity. Yet the insatiate world-affecters, though God not only aflright them with menaces, but even afflict them -mih. many scourges, cannot bo gotten from thefr covetous practices. So long as they can by any means grow wealthy, they will not beheve that God is angiy with them. As if there were none that have more than heait could wish; yet live aU this while in the sphere of God's indignation. We can read God's wrath in a storm, not in a calm ; yet he may most be angiy, when he least expresseth it. ' My jealousy shall depart from thee, and I will no more be angiy with thee,' Ezek, xvi. 42. Oh! that is the height of his displeasure. The prophet speaks of a true peace, Jer. xiv. 13, True were a needless epithet, if there were not a false peace in our carnal hearts. How fondly doth the

secure sinner flatter himself, in tlie conceit of liis own happiness ! All is ■well at home; he quarrels not with himself, for he denies himself no sensual pleasure. God quarrels not with him, he feels no check of a chiding conscience, he sees no frown of an angry judge ; nothing but prosperity shines upon him. He sees no difference in the face of heaven, whatsoever he says or does: the same entertainment is given to his blasphemies, as to his prayers. Sure he thinks himself in God's books above other men. And so he is indeed. In God's book of debts ; m God's book of arrearages ; in God's book of judgments : so he is far in God's books. He owes such men a payment, and they shall have it. Alas ! this is not the sinner's peace, but stupidity ; not the Maker's favour, but his fury. All this while he is very angry, though he suspends the execution of his wrath. Thus long sin lies like a sleeping bandog at the door of their hearts ; they look upon the cur as if he would never wake ; or if he did, yet as if he were so chained, and clogged, and muzzled that he could never hurt them. But when once God rouseth him, then have at their throats ; then they shall feel what it is to have lived so long in the anger of God ; when the Almighty shall put himself into the fearful forms of vengeance, and the everlasting gulf of fire shall open to receive them into intolerable burnings, the merciless devils seizing on their guilty souls, and afflicting them with heavy torments.

It is some favour when we have the respite to cry, ' How long, Lord, wilt thou be angry with us ?' He is not thoroughly angry with us when he suffers us to breathe forth this expostulation. There is some hope of remedy when we once complain of our sickness. It is not change of climate, butchange of diet, that recovers us; when we grow to forbear the surfeits of sin, there is a fair possibility of comfort. Yet God may be long angryy and long continue sensible testimonies of his anger. ' Forty years long was I grieved with this generation,' Ps. xcv. 10. He had smitten Israel with divers punishments, and threatened them with more grievous calamities; that ' every man should eat the flesh of his own arm; Manasseh, Ephraim; and Ephraim, Manasseh; and they both against Judah,' Isa. ix. 20, 21. And yet he had not done with them; his ' anger was not turned away, but his hand was stretched out still.' David's pestilence of three days was a stoim soon blovvTi over, though it were bitter for the time; but God's displeasure hath dwelt longer upon us.

But how, then, doth the prophet say 'that he retaineth not anger?' Well enough; for he never retaineth it one moment longer than we retain the cause of it. So soon as we ever cease sinning against him, he ceasetb to be angry with us. After David's humiliation and sacrifice, the angel strack not one blow more with the sword of pestilence. He measures out the length of his anger by the continuance of our rebellions; so that, if we expostulate -mih. him, ' Lord, how long wilt thou be angry with us ?' he replies, ' Oh, ye sons of men, how long will ye be rebellious against me?' Let us not look that the Lord should begin first; that his pardon should prevent our repentance. There is great reason that he who hath done the first offence should be first in malung the peace. Every day we expect comfort from God, and eveiy day God expects conversion from us. Every week we look for some abatement in the bills, and every week God looks fer some abatement of our sins, or amendment of om- lives. So long as we continue guilty, it is in vain to cry, ' 0, Lord, how long wilt thou be angry ?' Our hard hearts are not yet broken with remorse; alas! what can be done to break them ? ' The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars,' Ps. xxix. 5; he breaketh the mountains, Ps. xviii. 7; he breaketh the

heavens, Isa. Ixiv. 1; he brcaketh the stones, 1 Kings xix. 11; and yet his word cannot break our hearts. But if he cannot break us with the rod of affliction, he will break us with a rod of iron, Vs. ii. 9, and ' dash us in pieces like a potter's vessel.'

God is long patient before be is long angry; why should he not be long angry before he be appeased ? He is not easily provoked; why should ho be so easily pacified? Yet so pi'opense to mercy is our gracious Father, that the fire which was long a kindling is soon quenched. His anger, which is not blown into a flame without many and long continued sins, is yet put out with a few penitent tears. "When our houses are burning, it were but foolish to cry out, ' We are undone, the fire rageth,' and we all the while forbear to cast on water. The nsqiie quo of God's anger waits for the quoiisque of om- repentance. He will not give over striking till we fall a weeping; and we may do u'ell to weep before him, seeing we did ill to sin against him. His anger doth now long offend us, but our wickedness did far longer offend him. We have provoked him many years, and shall not his wTath bum many days ? Still it flameth; let us make haste to bring our buckets of water, filled at the cistern of our eyes, and derived from the fountain of our hearts, to quench it. Let no hands be wanting to this business; for if some bring in the water of tears, while others cast in the fuel of sins, this fu-e will bum still. But, from the highest to the lowest, let us come in with repentance; and that all of us, even the whole people, for so far God's wi'ath extendeth.

in. God may be ongnj tcith the ivhole people; which is the third proposition. He hath been angry with a whole family, with a whole army, with a whole city, with a whole countiy, with the whole earth. With a whole family; so he cursed the house of Jeroboam, that ' him that dieth in the city the dogs shall eat, and him that dieth in the field shall the fowls of the air eat.' With a whole anny; so he slew of Sennacherib's host in one night one hundred and eighty-five thousand. With a whole city; so the city of Jericho was cursed with a universal desolation, never to be re-edified wthout the ruin of the builder. With a whole country; so Saul was charged to destroy Amalek, man and woman, infant and suckling, sheep and oxen, and all that belonged to them. With the whole earth; so when it was become con-upt he drowned it with a flood. Yet observe how God hath qualified his wrath; with his hand of favour snatching out some from his hand of anger. When he cursed the whole family c^f Jeroboam, he excepted Abijah. "When he doomed to death the whole city of Jericho, he excepted thef amily of Rahab. When his wTath burned Sodom, he excepted the family of Lot. ^Mien his anger drowned the whole world in a deluge, yet his mercy excepted Noah and his octonaiy household. But his anger is veiy grievous when it extends to the whole people. * Through the WTath of the Lord of hosts the whole land is darkened,' Isa. ix. 19.

What makes him thus universally angry with us, but the universality of our sins against him? ^Tien the passengers ask, ' "WTierefore hath the Lord done thus to this great city ?' the answer is made, * Because they forsook the covenant of the Lord, and worshipped other gods,' Jer. xxii. 8, 9. To such a fearful height may the sins of the children bring the mother, that that church, which now enjoys such abundance of tnith and peace, may be poisoned with heresy and wounded with schism, and suffer an utter dereliction. The whole people is giulty 'if sin; and why, for their sins, may not God be angiy with the whole people, yea, and long angiy too ? for it will be very long before that fault be amended which hath so long been committed.

God came to low conditions in the behalf of Sodom; Abraham brought him down to ten. But he came to lower conditions in the behalf of Jerusalem ; he brought himself down to one: ' See if you can find a man, if there be any that seeketh the truth in the whole city, and I will pardon it,' Jer. V. 1. Oh, how epidemical is that wickedness where not one escapeth the corruption! We have foimd the Lord angry enough with a whole people for the sin of one man: ' Lord, hath one man sinned, and wilt thou be angi-y with the whole congregation?' Num. xvi. 22. No; God's vengeance, when it is the hottest, makes difi"erence of offenders, and knows how to distinguish between the heads of a faction and the train. Though neither be faultless, yet the one is plagued, the other pardoned. ' Depart from the tents of these wicked men, lest ye be consumed in their sins.' So soon as the innocent are severed, the guilty perish. One Achan sins, aU Israel suffers. One David sins in pride, seventy thousand of his subjects suffer in the plague. One Saul slew the Gibeonites, three years' dearth lies upon the Israelites for it. The blood of those Canaanites, shed against covenant almost forty years before by the then king, is now called for of the whole people. They had all sins enough, but God fixeth his eye of anger upon this. Every sin hath a tongue, but that of blood outcries them all; and if justice do not revenge the murder of one, God will require it of the whole nation. When seven of Saul's sons were hanged up, God was entreated for the land, 2 Sam. xxi. 14. Then * shall the clouds drop fatness, and the earth run forth into plenty: then shall the valleys stand thick with corn, and the little hiUs rejoice on every side.' Some drops of blood shed in justice procure large showers from heaven. A few carcases laid in their graves are a rich compost to the earth. There can be no peace where blood cries unheard, unregarded; but when it is expiated by the blood of the offenders, there will be a cessation of the judgments. ' Phinehas executed judgment, and the plague stayed.' One contrary is ever cured by another; take away the cause, and the efiect will cease. Prayer is very powerful, but doing of justice more available. The whole congregation were at their prayers, and those prayers were steeped in tears; yet still the plague raged and God's anger continued. But when Phinehas had run those two adulterers through with his javelin in the act of their sin, the plague was stayed. So blessed a thing is it for any nation that justice is impartially executed.

Thus the universality of sin calls for the universahty of repentance, or else it will provoke God's anger to strike us with universal judgments. If the whole people be guilty, the whole people must fall to deprecation. Such was the Ninevite's repentance, ' every man turning from his evil ways,' John iii. 8. We have sinned, even the whole nation; and, as if we had not sins enough of our own, we borrow of our neighbour. What nation under heaven do we trade withal, from whom the sins of that nation are not brought hither? And those are merchandises that might weU be spared. Are we all in the transgression, and do we lay the burden of repentance upon some few ? If we expostulate with God, ' Lord, hath one man sinned, and wilt thou be wroth with-the whole congregation?' may he not much more justly expostulate with us, ' Hath the whole congregation sinned, and is it enough for one man to repent?' Is the whole garment foul, and must only the skirts be washed ? Is the whole building ruinous, and do we think it a sufficient reparation to patch up one corner of it ? No ; the plaster of our repentance must be fully as large as the orifice of our wickedness, or we cannot be healed. But still God is angry with us, yea, though we were his o'^vti people. For—

IV. God may be anijnj with his own people; ^vhich is the fouiih proposition. * I will visit their sins Asath a rod, and their iniquity with scourges ; but my mercy will I not utterly take from them,' Ps. Ixxxix. 33. Thou;,'h he do not take his mercy from them, yet he may bo angi-y with them. He is our Father, and never did father in sweeter tenns entertain the dearest treasure of his blood than God doth us, when he vouchsafes to call us his people. Yet, did you never see a father angiy with his child ? Indeed, there is great difference between that WTath of God which is toward hia own people and that which comes upon the childi'en of disobedience, Col. iii. 6. They dilfer three ways.

1. In respect oi continuance. His anger upon reprobates is eternal, not extinguished mth their bloods, but pursuing them from earth to hell. To lus people it is but temporary, it lasts but a moment, * Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning,' Ps. xxx. 5. ' He will not always chide, nor will he keep his anger for ever,' Ps. ciii. 9. "VMicn he was very angry with his idolatrous Israel, Moses does but put him in mind that they were his own people, and he was pacified, Ex. xxxii. 11. ' For a moment, iu a little wrath, he hides his face from us.' Isa. liv. 8, * Eejoice not against me, 0 my enemy, for though I fall I shall rise again,' Mic. \ni. 8. But for the wicked ' his va'&ih. abideth on them,' John iii. 36.

2. In respect of the measure. It is milder towards his own people than to others. For the unrighteous he proportions his judgments, not to their strengths, but to their deserts. For his own people he proportions his corrections, not to their deserts, but to theii- strengths. For the foimer he minds not what they can bear by thefr powers, but what they have deserved by their sins. For the other he considers not what thefr sins deserve, but what thefr spfrits can sustain. His most bitter wi*ath to his people is always sweetened with his mercy. ' Thou wast a God that forgavest them, though thou tookest vengeance of their inventions,' Ps. xcix. 8. He brings a scourge in one hand, and a pardon in the other; and while he draws blood of the flesh, he brings peace to the soul.

3. In regard to the end. The wicked are vessels of wrath, Rom. ix. 22 ; and, as thefr sin makes them fit for God's anger, so his anger makes them fit for destiiiction. But for his own people, ' they are chastened of the Lord, that they might not be condemned with the world,' 1 Cor. xi. 32. Whether he inflict on them punishments for sin, or sufier them to fall into sins for punishments, yet all shall work to their good. His corrections are but medicines, ' bringing forth the quiet fruit of righteousness,' Heb. xii. 11. He lets them faU into some heinous crime, but it is to waken thefr repentance. Small spots on a gai'ment are not minded; we seldom are so curious as to wash them out. But when a gi'oat spot comes, a foul stain, we then scorn* and cleanse it, to get out that, and so we get out aU the Httle spots too. Sins of a lesser size never trouble us, we mind not the washing of them with a few sorrowful tears ; but when a great sin comes, and disquiets the conscience, then repentance, that old laundress, is called for, and in that larder we wash out both the great oQeuces and the rest. So God suffers us to fall into some gross and grievous sin, as a father suffers his little child to burn his finger in a flame, that his whole body may not full into the fii-e.

All these differences are expressed by the prophet Isainh. (1.) For the time. ' Doth the ploughman plough all the day to sow?' Isa, xxnii. 24. God doth not continue ploughing all day long furrows upon our backs, but when he hath broken up the fallow ground of om- hearts, he then sows in

VOL. III. s

the seed of his comfort, (2.) For the measure. ' Hath he plagued Israel, as he hath plagued the enemies of Israel ?' Isa. sxvii. 7. He smites his Israel in the branches and in the bunches, cuts down some of his superstitious boughs, and plucks off clusters of her rotten grapes ; but the wicked he smites at the very root. (3.) For the end. The furnace of. his wrath shall but purge away our dross, and make us pure metal, fit for the stamp of his own image.

Yet, for all this, God hath been grievously angry with Ms own people. Yea, their sins anger him most of all, because, together with wickedness, there is imkindness. As dearly as he loves them, their sins may provoke him. Our interest in God is so far from excusing our iniquities, that it aggravates them. Of all others, the transgression of his own people shall not pass unpunished. The nearer we are to him, the nearer do our offences touch him; as a man more takes to heart a discourtesy done by a friend than a great injury by a stranger. Pagans may blaspheme, and bezzle, and defile the marriage bed, and yet God let them alone; but he will not endure these sins in his own people. The more he loves us, the greater should be our love to him. Now, love and unkindness cannot stand together. If we revolt fi-om our Maker, as Absalom thought Hushai had renounced David, may he not justly expostulate with us, * * this thy kindness to thy friend ?' There is no such irksome disobedience as where God looks for service. ' He came unto his own, and his own received him not,' John i. 11. Oh ! that could not choose but trouble him! As Demades said to Philip of Macedon, and at a time when he well deserved it, Cum fortuna tibi Aga-memnonis personam imposuerit, nonne pudet te Thersitem agere 1 When fortune hath made thee an Agamemnon, art thou not ashamed to play Thersites ? When God hath honoured us for his own people, with the noble name of Christians, is it not a shame for us to play the pagans ? * Happy are the people that are in such a case, yea, blessed are the people that have the Lord for their God.' Yet that people may so far anger him that he will take away, not only their temporal, but even their spiritual happiness. Those seven churches of Asia were God's own people, yet the gospel was not fastened to their territories, as the old Romans pinioned their goddess Victoria, or their apish posterity do the Cathohc faith, to their own infallible chair. But as they had a time to breathe, so they had a time to expire; and so hath my fom'th proposition. There is but one gradation more.

V. God may be angry with his p>eople that prageth. Wherein we have two main observations. First, The wonder that God will be angry at our prayers. Second, The answer which resolves the wonder, shemng why our very prayers may anger him. Either of these is backed with tlu-ee cu'cum-Btances. 1. For the wonder that ' God is angry idth his p)eople that j^rayeth.'

1. AH the other conclusions are easily granted. God may be angry, and angry very long, and angry with the uhole people, and angry with his oim people : all this because oi their sins ; but that he should be angiy at their prayers, this is the wonder. He hath commanded us to pray, and will he be offended with us for doing his command ? Angry against us for our prayer ! He hath commanded us to prayer as the only means to assuage his anger ; and yet, is he angiy at our prayer ? Phinehas prayed, and his anger was pacified, Ps. cvi. 30; Aaron prayed, and the plague ceased; and will he now be angry with the people that prayeth ? He is a God that heareth prayer: ' 0 thou that hearest prayer, to thee shall all flesh come,' Ps. Ixv. 2 ; and does he now reject prayer ? He hath so styled his own house, oratorium, the house of prayer; and to them that pray unto

him iu his house ho hath promised peace, saying, ' In this house will I give peace, saith the Lord of hosts,' Hag. ii. 9. Peace and wrath are contraries; how shoukl prayer procure peace, when God is angrv at prayer? Prayer is so nohle, that under it is comprehended the whole worsln'p of God : ' Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall ho saved,' Rom. x. 13 ; and yet will God he angry at the prayer of his people? It is a gi'cat honour that God will vouchsafe to speak unto man, hut a far greater honour that man is allowed to speak unto God; the very angels stand in admiration of it; and yet what comfort is there in that, when God is angry at the prayer of his people ? What hlessiiig is there which our prayers cannot infeoif us in ? We send up prayer to God with the same confidence that Adonijah sent Bathsheba to Solomon : ' the king will deny thee nothing;' and will God be angry at prayer ? It is the only means we have to pacify him, praj'er; and shall our prayer anger him ? Alas! what hope is left us, when God is angry at prayer ? This hath often turned away his wrath, and does it now incense his wrath ? If we should not pray, he would then be angiy; and when we do pray, is he angry too ? What! neither way pleased ? What is the reason wliy there is so much empty cask in God/'s cellar, hut for want of prayer ? ' Ye have not, because ye ask not,' James iv. 2; and shall not prayer obtain favour? '0 Lord, what shall I say,' it was the complaint of Joshua, Josh. vii. 8, ' when Israel turneth their hacks before their enemies ?' So, what shall we say, what shall we do, when God turneth back our prayers ? \Vliy is it called the throne of gi-ace, before which we present our prayers, if that throne send forth nothing but beams of wvath ? We look for gi'ace, and a favourable audience of our petitions ; but, alas ! what shall become of us, when God is angry at our very prayers ?

2. How wonderful is the power of prayer! ' Let me alone,' saith God (Exod. xxxii. 10) to Moses; who would look for such a word from God to man, as Let me alone ? As yet Moses had said notliing; before he opens his mouth, God prevents his importimity, as foreseeing the holy violence of prayer. Moses stood trembling before the majesty of his Maker, as fearing his dire revenge; and yet that Maker doth, after a sort, solicit Moses for leave to revenge, * Let me alone.' As it was afterwards said of Christ concerning some places, ' He could do no mu-acles there, because of their unbelief,' so one would think that God could do no judgments here, because of Moses's faith. ' Let me alone.' "Wliy ? Can that resist God ? Yes, prayer can resist him. Such is his mercy, that ho hath, as it were, obliged his power to the faith of our prayer. He enables us to resist himself: ' scipsum vincit.' The fervent prayer of the faithful can bind the hands of the Almighty. What is there that God can do which prayer cannot do ? 0 mighty, I had almost said almighty, prayer! What a hand is that which can hold omnipotence ! What wings are those which can overtake infinitcness! Yet, alas! we now mourn over prayer as David did over Jonathan : ' How are the mighty fallen !' 2 Sam. i. 25. Prayer hath lost her force with God when God is angiy with prayer. Her wings are clipped that she cannot mount. Her bow is broken ; she cannot shoot aii an-ow that reaches the mark. She is become a widow, as it was lamented over Jerusalem (Lam. i. 1), desolate and solitarj-, that was a princess among the provinces, and a queen among the nations. She sits weeping in the dust, and hath almost forgot the use of speech. She mourns not so much for Marv^'s ahsltilerimt Dominum, for she knows where to find him ; as that our sins ahstulerunt Domini favorem, and she knows not how

to pacify him. And how should she, when God is angry with his people that prayeth ? Where is the strength of this Samson ? What is become of that power, which was wont to command heaven and earth? The •visible heavens have been opened by prayer, for so Ehas brought down rain, James v. 18. The invisible heavens have been opened by prayer, for so the penitent malefactor got from the cross to paradise. So Stephen saw the ' heavens opened, and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God,' Acts vii. 56. Omnia vincentem vincit. It was wont to be an especial favomite of God; but now, alas ! it is cast out of favour, for God is angry with prayer. * Thou hast covered thyself with a thick cloud, that our prayer should not pass through,' Lam. iii. 44. This is a woful condition of our souls, when the Lord is angry at our prayers; when he will not hear them, nor answer them ; it is a cause of sadness in us, but much more when he is angry with them. ' Therefore wall I deal in fury; though they cry in mine ears with a loud voice, yet will I not hear them,' Ezek. viii. 18. This is fury indeed : before the ancients of Israel had said, ' The Lord seeth us not, he hath forsaken the earth.' There they deny God eyes, and here he denies them ears. A burning wrath, as the original hath it: ' How long wilt thou smoke against the prayer of thy people ?'

3. And of thy people. This increaseth the wonder. For God to stop his ears against the prayers of the heathen, to reject the petitions of idolaters, to despise a devotion done before images and painted blocks, is no marvel. For they dishonour him in their prayers, and God will be angry with anything that eclipseth his glory. But he does not use to slight those that serve him, and continue in his holy worship. It is strange that he should be angry at the prayer of his own people. Angry with those whom he hath chosen, angry vsdth them long, and angry with them at their very prayers. This must be some extraordinary wrath; and so you have ail the circumstances that may advance the wonder.

Now for the answer, that takes off this admiration, and satisfies us with some reasons why God may be angry with his people that prayeth. God is never angry at his people without a cause, and it must be a great cause that makes him angry with them in their devotions ; whereof we have three considerations.

First, There may be infirmities enough in our very prayers to make them unacceptable. As if they be Exanimes, without life and soul: when the heart knows not what the tongue utters. Or Perfunctorice, for God will have none of those prayers that come out of feigned Hps. Or Tentative, for they that wiU petere tentando, tempt God in prayer, shaU go without. Or Fluctuantes, of a wild and wandering discourse, ranging up and down, which the apostle calls ' beating the air,' as huntsmen beat the bushes, and as Saul sought his father's asses. Such prayers will not stumble upon the kingdom of heaven. Or if they be Prepropera;, run over in haste, as some use to chop up their prayers and think long till they have done. But they that pray in such haste shall be heard at leisure. Or sine fiducid; the faithless man had as good hold his peace as pray; he may babble, but prays not; he prays ineffectually, and receives not. He may lift up his hands, but he does not hft up his heart. Only the prayer of the righteous availeth, and only the bchever is righteous. But the formal devotion of a faithless man is not worth the crust of bread which he asks. Or sine liumilitate, so the phariscs's prayer was not truly supplicatio, but snperlatio. A presumptuous prayer profanes the name of God instead of adoring it. All, or any, of these dei'ectb may mar the success of our prayers.

Ps. LXXX. 4.] GOD S ANGKR.

Secondh, But such is the mercy of our God, that he ^vill ^vink at many

sm. \\ t. Kuuw uii I i-pfrard iniquity in my heart, tho

y^W, him he hearcth, John ix 31. It | ^^o'^^^ ^^ ^ ^^ ^ ^1 .j^

Lord will not hear my praj-er P- 1-- l^- ^^^^'l^^^^ heaven

frof sHll fli^honour him in our sinful lives, is not tnis n;^'pocnby . »

Ih the wiAod woL Of our hamt., should he not be aupy at o,u- V'Yfl We make afii- "o did Kft up our hands unto him, but indeed, we strcteh We make as u tic u, ./.,,,■ i maver, it is such a one as deserves 'Zr t^ eTmle™'e'devil' hLK fail to his prayers: ■ I besceeh h?e tonue^t me not,' Luke viii. 28. Another reques^ he made .h.h ChriU sn-anted- but it was in wrath, not in favour, ihe piKle oi our te^ ,?h: covotousuess of our hands, the W-Pl'-y »'°^,™:*;'*d

:r,;;;tr=rH::ii;:^'beC^^^^^^

Sd re ": no instruetiou by it, nor give any 'Y'^'^J^'^^inLl^Z vain we pray,'.4rfr«»<.f«r,mm «.«,«:■ Thylangdomoome It he^^^^^^^^^^^

of our affections and actions runs cross to the wiU of God, in vain ^e praj TZ ,W . .1., ,„„ :• Thy will be done. H wo extort the bread of the poor out of their hands, or seek to live by violence or "PP" ■»",•'" ^^^X

pray, • P<„.em ^Mrum da "»''M"»'"''""''»; ■ OL'^'/^.f „»/„YTe doe,

bread- tor this is to attempt to have it, whether God will or no he does

not riU it. but we snatch it. milo we are indulgent to our darling sins,

* Qu. 'Audiam?'—^o.

aud will not part with the dear delights of our bloods, in vain we pray, ' Dimitte nobis dehita nostra:' Forgive us our trespasses. While we seek to revenge our wrongs upon others, and bear malice in our hearts, our ' Sicut nos dinvittimus,' as we forgive them that trespass against us, doth but beg for vengeance on our own heads. AH the while that we listen to the suggestions of Satan, and Hke the allurements of the world, and awaken our own lusts to tempt om-selves, it is but a mockery to pray, ' In tentationem ne nos inducas:' Lead us not into temptation. While we seek that which is evil, and run with greediness into evil, in vain we pray, ' Libera nos a malo ;' Deliver us from evil. We do but flatter God, and compliment with him, when we conclude ■^'ith, ' Tuuvi est regnum, potentia, et gloria:' Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the gloiy; for it is our own glory we seek after, not his. All this cannot keep him fi'om being angry with our praj^ers. So long as his people rebelleth, he wiU be angiy with his people that prayeth. For some use :—

If God be angry with them that pray, what will he be with them who do not pray ? with them that break his laws, and never cry him mercy ? with them that live in wickedness, and never ask him forgiveness ? ' The ungodly caU not upon the Lord,' Ps. xiv. 4 ; will he not be much more angry with them ? God is not in all their thoughts, but they are in the thoughts of -God. He thinks of them with indignation, and wiU remember them to their cost. ' Remember, 0 Lord, the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem,' Ps. cxxxvii. 7. Yes, he will remember them in the day of their destruction.

If God be sometimes angry at our prayers, how will he brook om' curses ? If he beat back our petitions, how will he take vengeance on our blasphemies ? ' Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing,' James iii. 16 ; but God will not accept of a blessing from a mouth that is used to cursing. If he may be so angry with a people that prayeth, what wiU his ■wrath do to a people that sweareth ? Think this, ye that, if it were possible, "Would swear God out of his thi'one, and the Judge of aU the world out of his tribunal, your very prayers are abominable ; your blasphemous breaths have put a stink into all your sacrifices. That tongue is fit for nothing but flames, which so flameth with oaths and execrations. Your prayers cannot be heard by reason of your sins, but your blasphemies shall be heard and plagued notvy^ithstanding your prayers. If the instrument gives a harsh sound, there is trouble instead of music; a jamng organ grates the ears rather than delights them. Our sins have put all om- instruments out of tune, and for them God is angry at our very prayers.

There is no way to take ofi' his anger, but by turning from our wickedness. If we break off" our sins, ' he will leave a blessing behind him, even a meat-offering, and a drink-offering to the Lord,' Joel. ii. 14 ; he will both give and take our sacrifice. Let us do thus, and ' prove him whether he mil not open the windows of heaven,' Mai. iii, 10. Our repentance and our righteousness shall open heaven, so that our prayers may go up for a blessing, and a blessing shall come down upon our prayers. Prayer is vox jidei, as John Baptist was vox Christi: if we mourn and do not pray, our faith hath lost her voice ; and prayer without faith, is John without Christ, a voice without a word. Faith is the soul, and repentance is the life of prayer, and a prayer without them hath neither liie nor soul. If we beheve not, we are yet in our sins ; if we repent not, our sins are yet in us ; and so long as this state continueth, no wonder if God be angry with his people that prayeth. But first, * will I wash my hands m innocency, and then will

I compass thine altar,' Ps. xxvi. G. ' Then shall my pra_yer be set before thee as incense, and the lifting up of my hands, like the evening sacrifice,' Ps. cxli. 2. When, with the sword of severe and impartial repentance, we have cut the throat of our sins, and done execution upon our lusts, then let us solicit heaven with oui' prayers; then pray, and speed; then come, and welcome ; no anger, but all mercy then. Then the courtiers about the King in heaven, shall make room for prayers. Then the Prince himself will take our prayer into his own hand, and with a gracious mediation present it to his Father. Then ' milthnns prisrcs ct lacnjmds ad l)eum lefjatos.' Then is that court of audience ready to receive and answer our ambassadors; which be our prayers and our tears. Then Saint John sees twelve gates in heaven, aU open, and all day open, to entertain such suitors.

This is our refuge, and that a sure one. Although the enemy begirts the city with never so strait a siege, and stop up all the passages, yet he cannot block up the passage to heaven. So long as that is open, and God in league with us, there may be rcUef and succour had from thence by prayer. Faith is a better engineer than was Daedalus; and yet he could make a shift to frame wings, with which he made an escape over those high walls wherein he was imprisoned. ' liestat iter coslo, tentahimus ire.' Let Pharaoh be behind, and the Red Sea before, the high rocks and mountains on every side, yet Israel can find a way for all that. When there is no other way to escape danger, a Christian can go by heaven, and avoid all by prayer. As it is the hea^^est malediction, ' Let his prayer be turned into sin:' so it is a happy blessing when oiu- sin is turned into prayer, when sin is so done away that prayer may take place. Then shall Jacob's ladder be never empty of angels ; our prayers ascending to heaven, and God's blessing descending on us. Then shall prayer disburden our hearts of all sorrows, and God shall fill them with his sweet comforts. Then shall we sing with cheerful voices, ' Blessed be the Lord, that hath not turned away oui-prayer from him, nor his mercy fi'om us,' Ps. Ixvi. 20. Amen.

MAN'S COMFORT.

In tJie multitude of my thonghts within me, thy comforts delight my soul. —

>SALM XCIV. 19.

Heaven is a place of infinite glory and joy; yet there is little joy or glory in the way thither. The passage rather lies through much tribulation; so troublesome a gallery leads to so happy a bedchamber. There is not a soul in the cluster of mankind exempted from sorrow, much less shall those grapes escape pressing, which God hath reserved for his own cup. ' All that will live godly in Christ, shall suffer persecution,' 2 Tim. iii. 12. Not all that live, but all that live godly ; not all that hve godly in respect of outward form, but that live godly in Christ. Paul, his attorney, pleads their afflictions with an ojwrtet; and lest some should look for a dispensation, he backs it with an omnis. The saints that have overcome the hill, be singing above ; we that are climbing up, must be gi-oaning all the way. The anthems in the upper choir, the church triumphant, are all hymns of joy ; the militant part must be content with sad tunes in this valley of tears. Not that the blessedness of immortality is no more perfect, but that it needs a foil of perplexity to set it off. Not that the joy of heaven is no more sweet, but that it needs the sourness of the world to give it a taste. Not that the peace and plenty of Canaan required the wants, and molestations of this wilderness to commend it; but so it pleaseth the Almighty Iving, who of his own free grace doth give the prefeiment, to interpose the conditions ; that the sorrows and the ingloriousness of this world should be the thoroughfare to the glories and joys of his kingdom. For it pleased him to consecrate the prince and captain of our salvation through sufferings; and what privilege can the common soldiers and subjects expect ? ' Deusfilium habuit unum sine jjcccato, mdlum sine flagello.' We that hold our inheritance in capite have no other title to it than Christ had before us, by suffering.

When we consider David and his troubles, we say, ' Ecce dolores viri,' Behold the sorrows of a man; but when we consider the Son of David and his passion, we say ' Ecce vir dolonim,' Behold the man of sorrows. Indeed, if the one balance were full of sorrows, and the other quite empty of comforts, there were au unequal poise. They that do not find some joy in their sorrows, some comfoi-t in their dejections, in this world, are in a fearful danger of missing both in the next. But as it is said in case of bodily sickness, if the patient and the disease join, then in vain is the physician; if

the disease and tbo physician conspire, then woo bo to the patient; but if the patient and the physician accord, then vanishcth the disease. So we may obseiTO in spiritual distempers: if the soul and sorrow desporatoly combine, then the Spirit departs, the physician is grieved; if God and sorrow join in anger, or in anguish, the foimer justly, tlie other sharply, then woe to the soul, for that cannot bo comforted ; but if the soul by faith, and God by grace, unite themselves, then away flies soitow, for that is expelled. Here David's soul joins itself with the spirit of consolation, and sorrow loseth the day, and the end is comfort. In the multitude of my thoughts within me, thy comfoiis delight my soul.

Here is a twofold army, one marching against another, seditio et scdafin : an insniTection and a debellation; a tumult and its appeasement; a band of thoughts assaulting, and a host of comforts repelling, resisting, protecting. There is a nniltitude of those thoughts, and no less is the number of these comforts. These troublous thoughts have got into the citadel of the heart, '■apxulmc,' within me; and these consolatoiy forces have entered as far, even into the soul; ' they dehght my soul.' Those thoughts fight under the colours of flesh and blood, but these comforts under the banner of God ; they are my thoughts, but thy comforts; the cogitations of man, but the consolations of Jesus Christ,

1. Look upon the adversary power, * in the multitude of my thoughts within me.' 0 that there were some external grievances, a foreign war, no domestic, intestine, civil broils, not turbulent thoughts. Or if they be thoughts, rebellious, heart-breaking cogitations, yet that there were bx;t some few of them, that they might be sooner suppressed ; not so numerous, not a nudtitmic of thoughts. Or if they must be thoughts, and a multitude, yet that they had chosen some other place to rise in ; not my heart, the ibrt, the court, the bedchamber of my spirit; that they had not presumed unto so bold approaches, as to mutinise ' apud me,' within my heart, nearer and closer to me than my own bowels. But now to be thotifjhts, of so tumultuous a nature, vmltitudes of so mighty a number; u-ithin me, of so fearful a danger, without vent, composition, or quiet, here is a full anxiety.

2. View the defensive forces, and in the midst of this conspiracy make room for preserv'ation: ' Thy comforts delight my soul.' They are comforts ; against litigious and unquiet thoughts ; a work of peace ; comforts. They are not scant and niggardly, but against a multitude of thoughts many comforts: and evcrj' one aVilo to quell a whole rout of distractions. They ai-e till/ comforts; not proceeding from men or angels, but immediately from the Spirit of consolation, against m;/ son-ows, thy comforts. They do not only pitch their tents about me, or, like a subsidiaiy guard, envu'on me, but they take up their residence in the heart of my heart, * In my soul.' These refresh more than the other can offend; against the thought in my heart thy comforts delight my soul.

Thus if we be not entered into Aceldama, a field of blood, yet are we got to Meribah, a field of strife; or the mountains of Jiether, a field of division, not unhke that of Rebekah's womb, whore Jacob strove with Esau for the victory. We have seen both the armies ; now let us marshal them into their proper ranks, setting both the squadrons in their due stations and postures, and then obsei-ve the success or event of the battle. And because the malignant host is first entered into the ground of my text, consider with me : 1. The rebels, or mutineers, f/io^^/i/.?. 2. The number of them, no less than a multitude. 3. The captain whose coloui's they bear; a

disquieted mind ; ?«?/ thougbts. 4. The field where the battle is fought; in the heart; apiid me, within me.

In the other anny we find. 1. Quanta, how puissant they are ; comforts.

2. Quota, how many they are, indefinitely set down; abundant comfort.

3. Cujits, whose they are; the Lord's, he is their general; thy comforts.

4. Quid operantur, what they do ; they dehght the soul. In the natiu'e of them, being comforts, there is tranquillity; in the number of them, being many comforts, there is sutficiency; in the o^vner of them, being thy comforts, there is omnipotency; and in the efiect of them, delighting the soul, there is security. There is no fear in them, for they come for peace, they are comforts. There is no weakness in them, for they come in troops, there are many comforts. There is no disorder in them, for the God of wisdom is their captain, and leads their forces, they are thy comforts. There is no trouble in them, for they evangelise joy, ' they delight the soul.'

1. The rebels are thoughts. Man is an abridgment of the world, and is not exceeded by it but in quantity ; his pieces be not pauciora, sed minora. If all the veins of our bodies were extended to rivers, our sinews to mines, our muscles to mountains, our bones to quarries of stone, our eyes to the figures of the sun and moon, and all other parts to the proportions of such things as correspond to them in this world : man might stride over the sea, as the Hebrews feigned of Adam; the air would be too little for him to move in, and the whole firmament but enough for this star; yea, indeed, this little world would be the great one, and that great one appear but the httle one. There is nothing in this world for which we may not find some answerable part in man ; but there is something in man for which we can find no answerable part in the world; I need not say 'part,' for the whole world is not able to give any representation. Man hath a soul, made after the image of God ; of this the world caa yield no resemblance. The world produceth innumerable creatures ; man yet in more abundance. Our creatures are our thoughts, creatures that are bom giants, that can reach from east to west, from north to south, from earth to heaven. These can survey the whole earth, bestride the ocean, comprehend the vast air, and span the very finnament.

How capable, how active, is the soul of man ! It is even comprehensive of universality, and hath ' virtutem ad infinita;' nature hath set no limits to the thoughts of the soul. It can pass by her nimble wings from earth to heaven in a moment; it can be all things, comprehend all things, know that which is, and conceive of that which never was, and never shall be. The heart is but a little house, and hath but three chambers, yet there is room enough for a world of guests. God, the Creator of all, made this soul in a cottage of clay, and this soul is a kind of creator too ; for though it dwell in a close prison, it can produce creatures, even thoughts; and any one of these creatures can move with the heavens, move faster than the heavens, overtake the sun and overgo the sun; contemplate that which the sun never saw, even the dreadful abyss of hell, and a ghmpse of the glory of heaven. So various and innumerable are the thoughts of man, that he had need of an astrolabe, to mark in what height and elevation they are, and so either to advance them or to stoop them, as they deserve.

There be three sorts of actions proceeding from the soul: some internal and immaterial, as the pure acts of our wits and wills ; some external and material, as the mere acts of our sense; others mixed between both, and bordering upon both the former, which St Augustine says, the Greeks call Tccdrj, the Latins perturbationes. As the heart iuspireth one and the same strength and hfe into

all the parts of tbo body, for the better discbarge of their diverse functions, though all the parts do not receive it in the same degree. The stomach, by the virtue it reeeiveth, is made able to digest; the Uver, to concoct the nutriment into blood ; the spleen, like a sponge, by sucking up the melancholy spirits, to purge the vital parts;—so the soul breeds all these creatures, gives life to all these thoughts, yet according to their several acts and offices, they have several names. If they be sensitive, we call them passions ; if sensual, lusts ; if fantastical, imaginations ; if reasonable, arguments ; if reflective, conscience ; as they are evil, the suggestions of Satan ; as good, the motions of the Holy Ghost. As the world produceth vipers, and serpents, and venomous creatures, worms and caterpillars that would devour their parent, so the soul breeds noxious and mutinous thoughts, that are like an earthquake in her bowels ; and while they maintain civil broils and factions one against another, she feels the smart of all.

Some thoughts bo the darts of Satan; and these non nocent, si non placent. We cannot keep thieves from looking in at our windows, but we need not give them entertainment with open doors. As the hennit said, ho could not keep the bu'ds from flying over his head ; but he could keep them from building their nests in his hau'. ' Wash thy heart fi'om iniquity, that thou mayest be saved ; how long shall thy vain thoughts lodge A\'ithin thee ?' Jer. iv. 14. They may be passengers, but they must not be sojourners. God hath made a statute against such inmates ; it is an unblcst hospitality that gives them lodging ; and he is no friend to the king that harbours these seminaries. Other thoughts be the motions of God's Spii'it; and these must not only be guests, but familiar friends ; salutation here is not enough, but glad entertainment, welcome and indulgence. Let no man Uke himself the better for some good thoughts ; the praise and benefit of these is not in the receipt, but in the I'etention. Easy occasions will fi-ighten away good thoughts from a carnal heart; Uke children who, if a bird do b\it fly in their way, cast then* eye from their book. But Da%dd's thoughts here were anxious, commotive thoughts ; otherwise, they stood not in such need of comforts. It is Ukely they were either timom, fearful thoughts, or doloris, son'owful thoughts ; thoughts of fear for what might bo or thoughts of sorrow for what already was.

The thoughts of fear are troublesomo enough ; as the ill afi"ections of the spleen do mingle themselves with every infirmity of the body, no less doth fear insinuate itself into every passion of the mind. David might find this complication in his mind. I vnH please Saul -with my harp ; but then fear rephes, He will sti'iko mo through with his javelin. He will give his own daughter in marriage ; but fear says again, Now, if this prove a fatal dowry, if this match be my snare, I will refuge myself with Achish at Gath ; yet what trust is there in infidels ? I \\'ill be hidden in Keilah, or Hachilah ; but fear suggests. How if the Ziphites discover me ? What shall I do ? whither shall I go ? where shall I rest ? These were thoughts that stood in great need of comfort.

The thoughts of sorrow are yet more distractive, and such were this royal prophet's ; as our Vulgate reads, ' In the multitude of the sorrows that I had in my heart.' "^Tiat was the cause of those griefs ? The shppmg of his foot, his errors, his deviations, his sins. Other soiTOws may disquiet the soul; none but these have the promise to be comforted. As in mart}T-dom, it is not the sword or torture, not what we sufier, but why, that makes us martyrs. So in our sorrows, it is not how deep they penetrate, or how sharply they cruciate, but wherefore, that approves their goodness. If our

sing be the why of our sorrows, we are blessed. ' Blessed are they that mouni, for they shall be comforted,' Matt. v. 4. Vain are the sighs and groans that proceed only fi-om the thought of worldly losses. A medicine that cureth the ej-es, we say, was made for the eyes, and nothing else. We lose our wealth, and sorrow for it. Will sorrow recover it ? We are despised and abused, and we grieve for it. Will grief right us ? We bury our friends, and mourn for them. Will mourning restore them to us ? We are crossed by unliindly children, and weep for it. Will weeping rectify them ? We are anguished in our bodies with pains and siclmesses, and are son-y for it. Will sorrow heal us ? Nay, will it not rather hurt us ? AU our thoughts, and cares, and griefs, and tears, can do us no good, no relief in these calamities ; sorrow was not made for these things. But we sin and offend the Lord, and we are sorrowful for it. Here is the disease for which sorrow is the proper remedy; penitent sorrow shall take away sin. Qiimnvis peccavit David; quod solent ref/es: tamen x>ccniten-tiam er/it, flevit, jejunavit, quod non solent rer/es* Saith Saint Ambrose, who wi'ote him an apology, ' While the ground of our sorrow is our sin, the choicest descant on it must be our sorrow.' Our thoughts and griefs may be many, but if they be not spent upon our sin, we shall not be comforted.

2. The number of them is a multitude. We may say of sorrows as it is said of shrewd turns, they seldom come single. Like a volley of folding waves, one tumbling on the neck of another, all threatening to overwhelm us ; und(B superadvenit unda. It is too scant a name which Leah gave her son, calling him Gad, ' a troop cometh,' Gren. xxx. 11 ; and but enough what the demoniac answered Christ, ' My name is legion, for we are many,' Mark V. 9. If they were a multitude, and not soitows, then the more the merrier; if they were sorrows, and not a multitude, then the fewer the better cheer. But to be disquieting thoughts, and a multitude, makes up a terrible agony. ' Many are the troubles of the righteous,' Ps. xxxiv. 19 ; great or man}', a great many, a gi'eat deal too many, but for the comfort of the deliverance. When Job's afflictions began, they came in troops and hurries ; so thick, that he could scarce take breath ; one messenger pressing in with his woful relation, before the other have ended his sad tale. * While he waij yet speaking,' Job. i. 16. How did that fugitive prophet amplify and aggi'avate his dangers ? ' Thou hast cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas ; and the floods compassed me about; all thy waves and thy biUows passed over me,' Jonah ii. 3. It was no shallow river, but the sea; not near the shore, but in the midst of the sea ; nor was he floating on the waves, but plunged into the deep, or bottom ; the floods compassing, the biUows overwhelming, to keep him down. I need not travel for exemplifications.

Let him be om- instance that spake what he felt, and felt what he spake ; 801T0WS enough to break any heart, but that which God had framed according to his own. His son Amnon ravisheth his own sister, and is murdered by his own brother. That murder is seconded by treason, and that treason ■with an incestuous constupration. The insuiTcction of his own son hath driven him from his house, from his throne, and from the ark of God. All this went near him ; but that son is slain by his servant, and that went nearer him still. In what a miserable perplexity may we think the heart of this goodking was all the while ! Here was tiaought upon thought, and thought against thought. How at once to spare the sou of David, and yet * Chrys. Horn. 2, ad pop. Antioch.

to save tlie father of Absalom ; fear against hope, north against south, and wiiul aijaiiist tide. Anna armis contraria, jlm-tUnus umhr: a multituue of thoughts, able to rend the heart in pieces, but for that recollection of mercy, • Thy comforts delight my soul.'

Not seldom fares it thus with us. Thought calls to thought, jealousy to fear, fear to sorrow, sorrow to despair ; and these furies leap upon the the heart as a stage, beghming to act their tragical parts. Man huth more wheels moving in him than a clock ; only the dillerence is, that the wheels of a clock move all one way, whereas his faculties, like the epicycles, have a rapt motion. His sensitive appetite gives him one motion, his fantasy another, his reason a third, and his imjKjrious, impetuous will crosseth them all, driving the chariot of his atiectious with the fuiy of Jehu. He desires and thinks, and chooseth, argues, consents, and dislikes, and makes more business than time itself. There are not so many hours in one year, as there may be thoughts in an hour.* The philosopher that had shamed himself by weakly disputing with Adi'ian the emperor, thus excused himself to his friend, ' Would you have me contend with him that commands thirty legions ?' Alas ! what can quiet that soul which is distracted with, such legions and multitudes of thoughts, and throngs of sorrows ?

3. The captain of this troublesome soul is himself; viy thoughts. From what suggestion soever our thoughts come, we call them our own ; as whosoever begot the babe, the mother calls it her o\mi child. Indeed, the praise and propriety of good motives we ascribe only to God, without whom we cannot so much as think a good thought; as the channel may gather filth of itself, but it cannot have a di-op of piu-e water but from the fountain. Bad suggestions, though they proceed fi'om Satan, we call them our own, because they are bred in the womb of our natural coiTuptioh ; stubble is blown by the wind into the fire, and, being inflamed, it becomes fire. The devil tempted David to sin, yet he calls it his sin; not Satan's, but his own, ' I will be soriy for my sin.' However Epictetus could say, "When evil happens to a man, one of the vulgar will blame others, but a young philosopher would blame himself; but one that dived into the depths of nature would blame neither the one nor the other; yet a Christian hath learned to blame himself, as knowing that all his sorrows proceed fi'om. himself.

Ml) thoughts : thus easy is it with God to make a man become his own punisher. Under whose regiment are all these troubles ? Under myself; vn/ thoughts. As God threatens Tyre, that ancient and glorious city, that ' her own feet shall carry her afar ofi' to sojourn,' Isa. xxiii. 7, so our own feet shall cany us, our own creatures torment us ; like diamonds, we are cut with our own dust. When David had numbered the people, his o^vn heart smote him ; God finds the rod within us wherewith to scotirge us. As some vapour engendered in the caverns of the earth struggles for vent, and being barred of free passage, causcth an earthquake in the foundations that bred it; or as some fiery exhalation, wrapped up in the bowels of a thick cloud, breaks through that watery resistance and delivers itself to the world with a dreadful noise; so the griefs and pertm'bations begotten by our own lusts become tensors within us, and rend our voiy hearts till they get vent by confession and repentance ; thus do we muster up forces against our own peace. We pray, Lord, deliver us from our enemies, and in that number do we wTap up our unthought of selves, for we are our own cmuiies.

* Phira machinatur cor meum uno momento, quom omnca homiucs perficere possuut uno anno.— JJujo I. 3, de anima.

' Turn thy hand upon mine enemies,' for thou canst do it with the turning of a hand. * Dehver me from the evil man,' Ps. Ixxxi. 14. Who is that, saith St Augustme ? he is not far to seek ; libera vie ab homine mala; that is, a meipso, deliver me from the evil man, that is, from myself. I am the aptest to beget destruction upon my own soul; no enemy could hurt us if we were our own friends.

But we must not extend it so far upon this holy king ; they were thoughts indeed, and thoughts of sorrow, but of godly sorrow, and he calls them his own, to shew his near acquaintance with them, my sorrows. He was not a stranger to his own soul, his heart was not dead flesh. Satan had given him a fall, and he felt not that; sin had given him divers falls, and he felt not them neither : at last God undertakes him, wrestles with him, and gives him a fall too : he felt that, yea, that made him feel all the rest. Now is he sensible of every pang and stitch, the least thorn makes him smart, and he cries out of the multitude of his sorrows. There be some that can drown their griefs in wine and music, as they did in Hinnom ; the cry of the infants with the noise of the instruments, as if they would forget that they are the owners of their own thoughts, because they trouble them. Many deal with then* souls as some old women do with looking-glasses : they turn the wrong side toward them, that they may not see the fuiTows of their ovsti faces. They are loath to think of a reckoning, lest they should despair of making even the arrearages. Men have the courage to dare to sin, but they dare not look on their souls, as they are polluted with sin. I have heard of a melancholy man that would not believe he had a head, till his physician made him a hat of lead and put it on, which weight enforced him to cry, ' Oh, my head.' So men lost in sensual pleasures, scarce remember that they have a soul within them, until miseries, like talents of lead, or quarries of stone, with their heavy pressure, squeeze out a confession.

No things be so near as a man and his soul. ' Tota dovius duo sunt,'' the whole household is but two ; yea, why should they be called two ? We may say in a right sense, ' Mens cujusque, is est quisque,' every man's soul is himself. If there be any division, sin made it; a just punishment, * ut qui noUet cum Deo uniii, nan x)ossit in semetipso non dividi.' All these quarrels and brawls may thank sin ; that is the make-bate betwixt God and us, betwixt us and ourselves. But that man and his soul be grievously fallen out, that will not speak one to another ; when he shall pass a whole day and not ask how his soul does. This were too much between man and wife; when he shall lie down in his bed, as the beast doth in his litter, without bidding his soul good night; when he shall have fouled and besmeared his soul with the nasty aspersions of lusts, and not sweep out the dust before he shut the door; not wash his soul with tears before his eyelids be closed down with slumber ; yea, when he shall have lived and wounded his soul with blasphemies and uncharitable injuries, and then throw it down in a deluge of'diink, as if it were w^eltering in its own goi'e, without calling for repentance, the chirurgeon, to dress it. What madness and self-hatred is this ? When the soul may not have leave to think over her own thoughts, to reflect upon herself, to search her own bruises, to survey the multitude of her sorrows, and feel in what need she stands of comforts ? That ' pJe-risque notus, ir/nntus moriatur sibi ? But the children of God have learned to ccmmune with their own hearts, to examine every thought, and to weigh eveiy desire in the balance of the sanctuaiy. Whether they find themselves pensive or joyful, thoy will search the cause; as Rebekah said when sho felt the children struggle in her womb, ' Why am I thus ?' Whether fcxr

or hope, joy or pain, havo invaded my thoughts, let me ask my soul the reason, ' Why am I thus '?' The fathers were excellent good at this ; they had their confessions and soliloquies, familiar conferences with their own heai'ts; that when a man reads them, ho would think they kept no other company but themselves. Conference with others may make us wise or learned, but conference with ourselves is the way to make us holy. Tell thy conscience of all suggestions, as the chaste wife, after some peremptory denials to her impudent tempter, professes to tell her husband of those soUcitations; such and such be my thoughts, thus and thus they harrass mo ; what shall I do with them ? Indilferency is no less than self-treachery in matters of such consequence, that come so near me as to be ' apiul »ie.'

4. Within me: for this is the held where the skirmish is fought; within me. It is unhappy when soldiers march over the palaces of peace and seats of justice, where the councillors and senators used to sit. If there must be war, let it be in foreign countries, or if it will be in our own land, yet let it proceed no further than the borders ; but when it is gotten into the chief city, though it be subdued, it will cost a dear victory. As Pyrrhus, when his friends congratulated his -sictory over the Romans, with a gi-eat loss of his own side, rephed, ' Yes ; but if we had such another victoiy, we should be undone.' There is no penitent heart that hath felt the bitterness of these combats, remembering what sighs and sorrows, what groans and tears it hath cost him to make his peace, but would be loath to be put to the charges of such another conquest. Durius ejicitur, quam non admittitur hosti-s; sin may be kept out with ease, but will not bo driven out save with woful expenses.

Within me; not before me, as the host of the Philistines lay before Saul; not behind me, as the chariots of Egj'pt came thuudering behind Israel ; nor above me, as Fabius Maximus on the mountain above Hannibal. Im-minet nubes, a cloud hangs over me ; not round about me, as the Syrians compassed Dothan to take Ehsha ; but within me. ' Without were fightings, wthin were fears,' 2 Cor. vii. 5 ; and those fears within were worse than those fightings ^^dthout. There are external calamities enough to shake the most fortified soul; but' Sianmns dolor est ab intm.' St Paul reckons up twelve of his inflicted sufierings, nine dangers, and eight continued passions; yet, as if these were scarce worth putting into the catalogiie, he adds, ' besides the things that are without,' 2 Cor. xi. 28. He had an inward trouble : the care of the churches, seeking the lost, rebuking the proud, and comforting the dejected. Here was the pain.

Within me. There may be bellum intestinum a kind of unkind battle. When victi victoresque invicem dolent; the soul bespeaking her afl'ections, as Jocasta did her quan*elling sons. Bella yeri ptacuit nidlos triumphos habitura.

According to om* Saviour's prediction, a man's foes shall be they of his own household. Litra me est, quod contra me est; that is within The, which is against me. We say he wants an enemy, that fights with himself, and because ho fights with himself, he wants no enemy, sibi pessiiuiis host is. With external assaults we may gi"apple, threatened mischiefs we may prevent; from persecutors too potent for us we may hide ourselves, but who shall keep us from ourselves ? Nescis toneraria, nescis qiiem fiu/ias, idcoijue fucjis. Whithersoever we remove, we carry our son'ows with us. Outward afflictions are a war, turbulent afl'ections a worse war, both against us ; but this latter is within us. He needs no other misery, that is troubled witliiu himself. Ask not the anger of heaven, nor the trouble of earth, nor the

dangers of the sea, nor the malice of hell, against him v/hom his own thoughts have beaten down. He will say to all other miserable complainers, ' You are happy.' Outward things may go cross with us, and yet the peace of the soul remain sound ; but a wounded spirit who can bear ? who can cure ? As man's heart is the fii'st that lives, and the last that dies, so it is the first that S;tan assaults, and the last that he gives over. Yea, were there never a devil, the heart hath an ill spirit of its own to vex it. As some boroughs of this land plead a privilege, that they can hang and draw within themselves, so man's heart is such a corporation. It can execute itself within itself, without any foreign judge or executioner. If we look no further than among the multitude of our thoughts, might we not make a shift to think ourselves to hell ? If we had neither hands, nor eyes, nor feet, would not our hearts find the way thither ?

Within me. The proper seat and lodging of these troublesome inmates, the thoughts of sorrow, is the heart; whithersoever they wander, there they centre. Vagabonds taken roguing out of then- ovm precincts, are sent with a passport to the town where they were bom ; there they must be kept. Extravagant thoughts may rove up and down, but back again they must to the heait: the house that hatched them must harbour them, must answer for them. As all faculties of sense have their several seats ; seeing is confined to the eyes, hearing to the ears, feeling to the flesh and sinews : so these perturbations are limited to the heart. The local seat of the sensitive apprehension is the brain ; of the sensitive affection, the heart. In the former is softness and moisture, fit to receive intelligible fonns ; in the other are fiery spirits, fit for passionate and afiectionate thoughts. * My spirit is overwhelmed, and my heart within me is desolate,' Ps. cxliii. 4. In such a distress, let sense inform reason, reason speak to will, will to conscience, conscience to faith, faith to Christ, and Christ to his Father; and they will both send the Holy Ghost to comfort us. If there be a fire in the heart of a city, aU the suburbs will come to quench it. This fire may bofn within, but it will break out. It is as easy to stifle thunder in the cloud, or fire in powder, as sorrow in the heart. It will have eruption either by the voice in cries, or by the eyes in tears, or by the speaking silfluce of the look in a dejected heaviness. The seat of sorrow is the soul; but it will overflow the boundaries. * Why art thou cast down, 0 my soul?' None ask their eyes why they weep, or their voices why they lament, or then- hands why they wring themselves. But Anima, quare tarn tristis ? ' Oh, my soul, why art thou disquieted within me ?'

II. We see now the full advancement of the miseiy. The thoughts of ■sorrow, an anny of those thoughts, the comhination of that army, the terror of that combination ; how miserable must that country suffer where these rebels march ? Who can tell the taking of that heart which feels that combustion within itself ? These be om- enemies, where are our friends ? The day is hke to be fatally disastrous, if we have no defensive forces. Yes, ' the Lord shall fight for us, and we will hold our peace,' Exod. xiv. 4. As Moses comforted Israel, when the choice was hard, whether to trust the fuiy of the sea before them, or of the Egyptians behind them : • Stand still, fear not, and see the salvation of the Lord.' Now are the white ensigns of mercy displayed against these bloody streamers : never to a handful of men almost famished in a fort, did the tidings of fresh aid to raise the siege aiTive more welcome. « Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died,' John xi. 21. Though this multitude of oppressors overlay my heart, yet, Lord, if thou comest, my soul shall not perish. Let yom- patience sit

out the success of the battle ; and though I wish you not such conflicts, ,yet, if they do come, may you never fail of such comforts. • Thy comforts delight my soul.'

1. Quanta. They are no less than comforts: not presumptions, nor promises, nor mere hopes; but solid and sensible comforts. God made comfort on purpose for son'ow, as mercy would want a subject to exercise upon, but for misery. The blessed angels are not said to be comforted, because they never knew what heaviness meant; they are conserved, they ai-e confirmed, not properly comforted. There may be joy without any antecedent sorrow, as the angelical spirits ever were, and ever shall be, filled with unspeakable joy. But comfort is the proper physic for trouble : this happy nature was not ordained but for sorrow. There may be some that ducunt in bonos dies sues, that have their ways strewed with violets and roses ; these have no need of comfort. "SVhat physician ministers cordials to the strong and healthful constitution ? It is the broad thoroughfare of the world, which the devil is so studious to smoothe, that he leaves not a pebble in the way to offend them ; as if he were that tutelar angel, who hath a charge to look to them, that they dash not their foot against a stone, Ps. xci. 12. If they sigh, he sings to them; if they sleep, he sits by them: whispering to all troubles, as the spouse to the daughters of Jerusalem, ' I charge you, 0 ye transgressions of his heart, waken him not till he please.' Let there be no noise of fear, no alarm of repentance, no susurration of conscience to molest him : peace, peace, lie down in peace, with thy wann sins cleaning to thy bosom. The prophet gives you their character : * They lie upon beds of ivory ; they eat the lambs of the flock, and the calves out of the stall; they chant to the soimd of \nols, and dance to instruments, and di-ink wine in bowls,' Amos vi. 4. "WTiat should these men do with comforts ? Joy, and nothing else but the voice of joy, resounds in their habitations. It is poor, afflicted Joseph that needs comfort.

Consolation then is made for sorrow, and not for every sorrow neither. Some is produced by no other cause but temporal losses, pains, or injuries; so Esau may mourn long enough without recovery of his father's blessing. Worldly sorrow bringeth death, not delight, to the soul. Many weep, as Rachel did in Kamah for her children, because they were not; but they neither are, nor ever will be, comforted. There are tears that got sinful Esau nothing, and there be tears that got sinful Mary salvation. If the sorrow that swells our bosom with sighs, and is ready to burst our hearts, be spent upon our sins, it shall be sure of comforts. Are we full of grief within, and find no vent but by the groans and tears of repentance ? God may let us bleed for a while, tUl we be thoroughly humbled ; but then, like the woman, the pangs of whose travail be over, the son of joy shall be bom in our wombs, even that son which the blessed Virgin bore from her womb. Filius dilectionis, Filius dilectationis, Jesus Christ.

2. Quota. There is a plurality of them ; many comforts. What should encounter with sorrow but comfort? Comfort, therefore, it is for the nature. What should oppose a multitude, but a multitude ? Many comforts, therefore, they are for their number. Are we troubled with the wants and miseries of this life ? We have a comfort for that: ' The Lord is my portion ; he is my shepherd. I shall lack nothing.' Do we sink under the burden of our transgressions ? We have a comfort for that. Mary Magdalene heard it to quiet all her storms : ' Thy sins are forgiven thee.' Are wo haunted with temptations, hurried with persecutions ? We have a

VOL. in. T

comfort for that: ' I will be with thee in trouble,' saith the Lord. Let your Christian experience supply here my defects of remonstrance. I will sum up these comforts in a few words: ' The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil,' Joel ii. 13. We read of certain Fair Havens near Candia, Acts xxvii. 8; here be five fountains of comfort, like those fair havens, as welcome for harbour and road of a sea-beaten conscience, as ever was the bosom of mother for her sucking child. Drink at the first fountain : ' The Lord is gracious,' free in his favours ; if your thirst be not satisfied, go to the second: < He is merciful,' he hath bowels of commiseration ; if not yet, press to the next: ' He is slow to anger,' hard to conceive it, not willing to retain it. Wish we more ? He is ' of gi-eat kindness' in the number and measure of his blessings. There is yet another well of comfort behind : ' Repenting him of the evil;' full often doth he turn aside his blows, and is easily entreated to have the rod pulled out of his hands. David, to encounter with the giant, took ' five smooth stones out of the brook,' 1 Sam. xvii. 40; here is the brook, and these the five smooth stones. Let them not lie in the channel unused, but put them in your vessels, bear them in your hearts; whensoever you are defied and assaulted by that monster Philistine Satan, one of these comforts, hke David's stone, shall sink into his forehead and confound him.

How happily do these comforts meet with these sorrows! We are troubled with the sense of our sins, and of God's judgment upon them ; how should his justice acquit us ? Yet there is comfort, ' the Lord is gi'acious,' and cannot deny himself. But we are unworthy of his grace, because we have turned it into wantonness; yet there is comfort, for the Lord is ' merciful,' and sheweth most pity where most it is needed. But we have multiplied offences, and continued in our sins to our grey hairs; yet there is comfort, He is ' slow to anger,' evermore blessed for his long sufferance. But our iniquities be not of an ordinary qualitj^ they are heinous and intolerable; yet there is comfort, for he is ' of great kindness,' and our wickedness cannot be so great as his kindness; for of that there is no comprehension. But we are out of his favour, because he hath smitten us, our bodies with sore diseases, our souls with agonies, and our families with piivations; yet there is comfort, he will 'repent of the evil.' Li the hour of death, when the senses are past working, the understanding asleep, the body in a cold and benumbed sweat, these comforts never leave us: ' Retm'n unto thy rest, 0 my soul.' Ps. cxvi. 7.

Our comforts vie with the number of our sorrows, and win the game. The mercies of God passed over in a gross sum breed no admiration; but cast up the particulars, and then arithmetic is too dull an art to number them. As many dusts as a man's hands can hold, is but his handful of so many dusts ; but tell them one by one, and they exceed all numeration. It was but a crown which Eng Solomon wore; but weigh the gold, tell the precious stones, value the richness of them, and what was it then ? Jerusalem was but a city; but go round about it, mark the towers, tell the bulwarks, observe the magnificent buildings: so consider the infinite variety of these comforts I ' Come, and I will tell you all that God hath done for my soul,' Ps. Ixvi. 16. I never felt that sorrow for which he gave me not a sovereign comfort. Sennacherib invaded Israel with a mighty host, yet the undaunted courage of Hezekiah found more with him than could be against him; and Sennacherib found it so to his cost, when he lost almost two hundred thousand of his army in one night. The prophet's servant

rising early in the morning, sees the city besieged witli a fearful host of foot, horse, and chariots; his eyes could meet with nothing but woods of pikes, walls of harness, and lustre of metals, and he runs in with this atlrighting news to his master : * Alas! what shall wc do ?' 2 Kings vi. 16. Quiet Elisha sits in his chamber, as secure as if all these had been the guard of Israel, sent for his safe protection. ' Fear not.' This was a hard pi'ecept; as w'ell might he have bidden him not to see what he saw, as not to fear seeing so dreadful a spectiK-le. But the task is easy if the next words find belief: ' They that be with us are more than they that be with them.' If the eyes of our faith be as open as those of our sense, to see angels as well as Syrians, to perceive comforts as well as sorrows, we cannot be appalled with the most unequal number of our enemies: ' Many, O Lord, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done for us; they cannot be reckoned,' Ps. xl, 5. 0 God, what is man that thou art so mindful of him ? Yea, 0 man, what is God that thou art so unmindful of him? All the works of God are excellent, and ought to be had in remembrance; alas ! that we should ever forget any of his works that are of mercy and comfort, and done for the good of our souls. For he alone hath done them ; that is the next point.

3. Ci(jm. Whose they are ? ' TJnj comforts.' Troubles may be of our ovra begetting ; but true comforts come only from that infinite fountain, the God of consolation; for so he hath styled himself. The eagle, at her highest flight, will not lose sight of her yoimg ones; if she perceive any danger approaching, down she comes amain to their defence. Christ is indeed ascended up on high, yet he hath a favourable eye to his servants below; no Saul can ' breathe out threatenings and slaughters' without a ' Quid me persequeris V ' A>c timeas hostemfortem, qui ducem hahesfortiorem.' ' Let God arise, and let his enemies be scattei'ed.' There is none that fighteth for us but onl}- thou, 0 God, Ps. lx\-iii. 1. ' Cujusquam e:it rem-jmblicam movere, Del solim quietare.' Our own hearts can distract themselves, there is nothing to settle them but what the God of peace puts in. Who can reconcile a man fallen out with himself? yea, fallen from himself ? None but the God of comfort, who, when the earth was void, without form, when darkness was on the face of the deep, daj' and night, land and water tmdistinguished, could reduce ail this unshapen chaos of the world to form and order; when father, mother, brethren, kindred, friends, neighbours, and a man's ova-), heart forsakes him, then God takes him up. The structiire of Jericho was not more pleasant than the waters were unwholesome, and, thereb}-, the soil comipt. Elisha cures them with a cruseful of salt. Om* hearts are full of thoughts, but they be noxious thoughts ; yet if God throw into those fountains a handful of saving gi'ace,' we shall be whole. Our sorrows would too often break our hearts, but, 0 God, for thy comforts : it is thou only that canst make these weak vessels hold such scalding liquors and not burst.

There is combustion of these thoughts within us, till God part the fray and pacify the tumult; as when scholars are loud in their brawls, the very sight of their master husheth them. ^Vhen my heart, like the sea in a stoiTQ, is troubled, the winds raging, the waves roaring, thy comforts, like Christ's command, turns all into a calm: ' I thought on thee in the night season, and received comfort.' In the night, the region of fear; in soh-tariness, the full advantage of sorrow; in darkness, the opportunity of df»spau'; upon an unsleeping bed, the field of troublous thouglits; yet I did but think of thee, and before I came to meditate, to pray, to send up

my soul to thee, in that first thought I received comfort. 0 how short do all worldly things come of this sufficiency ! If the heart be wounded with sorrow, in vain is all the chirurgery of nature. Gold is no restoration, riches no cordial; yea, they may be a corrosive. We say to wine, Thy spirits are dull; to laughter, Thou art mad ; music grates the ear, and physic loathes the palate; company is tedious, and solitude dangerous; alas ! what hope can there be till the God of comfort comes ? Saul's evil spirit will not leave him till he be dispossessed by David's harp. We find as much ease when we rest our hearts upon temporal things, as he that laid him down to rest upon the cold earth with a pitcher under his head; and finding the pillow too hard, he rose and stopped it with feathers, thinking that then it would be wondrous easy. So be all temporary things to the soul, even when they are filled with the choicest mirth; nothing but vanity and vexation of spirit: vanity in their entertainment, and vexation in their farewell. Yet, 0 Lord, thxj comforts

4. Delight the soul, which is the last circumstance; the efi'ect of all. All God's war is for peace: pacem hahet voluntas, helium necessitas. We should never have had such a conflict, if God had not intended us for such a conquest. Sin disquiets the heart; yet, through his grace, this disquiet breeds repentance, repentance procureth forgiveness, forgiveness restoreth peace, and peace delights the soul. The sharpness of the trouble ad-vanceth the sweetness of the joy; as Christ's sufierings abound, so his comforts superabound. Every penitent tear that falls from the eye, springs up a flower of comfort. Look how full the vessels were of water, so full doth our Saviour render them of wine. In hell are all sorrows, without any comforts ; in heaven are all comforts, without any sorrows; on earth, good and bad, sweet and som-, miseries and mercies, sorrows and comforts, are blended together. If here were nothing but sorrows, earth would be thought hell; if nothing but comforts, it would be thought heaven. But that we may know it to be, as indeed it is, neither heaven nor hell, but between both, and the way to either, we have a vicissitude of troubles and delights. That as of old they painted King Solomon, because learned men ■were divided in their opinions of him, some casting him to hell, others advancing him to heaven ; therefore a third moderate sort painted him half in heaven and half in hell. So the Christian, in regard of his sorrows, seems half confounded, and, in respect of his comforts, half saved. But as indeed Solomon, after all his errors, found mercy; so the Christian, after all his sorrows, shall find comfort. His beginning may seem troublesome, his proceeding not delightsome, but his latter end is peace. * Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace,' Ps. xlvii. 37. His heart was troubled, his soul shall be delighted.

As the grievances of the soul be most dangerous in respect of their nature, so are they also abundant in their number. Therefore let our care be to seek out that great eHxir, that most sovereign and universal antidote and cordial.

(1.) One soul complains: I have obloquies, reproaches, calumniations cast upon me, which render me contemptible to good societies. MoraUty would thus argue with the heart. Be these imputations, thus charged on me, true or false ? If true, let the integrity of thy future conversation so convince thy associates, that they shall both suspect those reports, and rest assured of thy constant goodness.

But the divine grace applies a more virtual medicine to thy conscience, ■which shall revive either thy patience or thy repentance. The soul shall

argue with itself: If these imputations be true, here is work for repentance ; I will weep in secret for my sins. If false, let them not trouble me ; it ia the slanderer's sin, not mine; neither am I bound to father another's bastard. But still upon this calumny the world condemns me. But thy faith and patience assure thee that thou shalt not be condemned with the world. Yea, there is yet a higher degree of honour belonging to thy patience. Have not the best of men been traduced ? Was not the best of men, God and man, blasphemed ? Yea, even upon the cross, he was jeered when he died, by some of them for whom he died. Thus do the comforts of God requite thee, that in all this thou art, in thy measure, conformable to the sufferings of Christ. So dost thou allay all these furious tempests with one breath of faithful ejaculation, ' Thy comforts delight my soul.'

(2.) Another complains: I am fallen from an affluent state to deep indigence. I have kept hospitality, to entertain friends; and made charity the porch of my house, to relieve the needy ones. The vessel of my means is now di-awn out to the bottom, there is not sufficient provision for my own family. Inquire of thy heart, whether thy decay did not come by thy own riot, or through the vain-glorious affectation of an abundant hospitality. If this, or that, or any other habitual sin, were the first cause of it, begin with mortification there. First mourn for thy sins, then faithfully depend on thy Creator's providence, and thou shalt not fail of convenient sustenance.

But it may be this is not the complainant's case ; he is not taken with a tabe or wasting away of his substance, like a scarce sensible consumption of his bodily vitals. But his fall is with a precipice, from a sublime pinnacle of honour to a deep puddle of penuiy. Such was Job's condition; so did he fall, from being rich and happy in the adverb to being poor and miserable in the proverb. He had not only abundance of good about him, but omnia bene, all things went well with him. Yet how suddenly did ho faU from this abundant prosperity to the depth of miserable poverty ! Did he now follow the suggestions of that corrupt nature which lay in his bosom, and whispered to him on his pillow, ' Curse God and die?' No; but he apprehended the inspiration of grace, * Bless God and hve.' So his last days were better than his first. That infinite mercy did so crown his patience with triumph, that his temporal estate was doubled. Yea, but what posterity had he left to enjoy it after him ? Yes, but even the number of his childi-en was doubled too. For besides those seven sons and three daughters, which were now with his Father in heaven, he had also seven sons and three daughters with himself on earth. Piety and patience cannot be cast down so low, but that the hand of mercy can raise it up again. * In the multitude of all my losses and crosses, 0 Lord, thy comforts have delighted my soul.'

(3.) But another, that hath heard all this sad story, and seen the comfortable end sent of the Lord, is not satisfied; because himself is not redressed. Like a coward in war, that looks for the victory before he gives one stroke in the battle. What merchant looks to be landed in the place of traffic before he hath passed his adventure upon the sea ? Still, saith such a repiner, I am in distress, and want even necessaries. But still thou and we all must suffer much more before it can be said, ' Here is the faith and patience of the saints.' Still, 0 my soul, wait thou upon the Lord, thy most faithful Creator; he will, in his own good pleasure, open his hand, and fill thee with plentcousncss. Be thou penitent before him, patient under him, confident in him, and thou shalt have abundant

cause to be thankful to him. Thy end shall be peace and comfort in Jesus Christ.

Yea, even now, in these dead, lov/ waters of fugitive fortunes, my soul confftsseth that I have the highest wealth. For Christ's righteousness is my riches, his merits my inexhaustible exchequer, his blood hath filled my veins with the most lively vigour. My treasure is in heaven, where no violence can take it from me. StiU for ever and for ever thy comforts delight my soul,

(4.) It is another's complaint: I am shut up in a close prison, where I can neither converse with others abroad, nor let others in to communicate ■with me in this my confined home. The sparrow on the house-top hath more freedom than I. For that, though wanting a mate, hath an open air to fly in, and may so invite company to solace her. I have no society but my disconsolate thoughts, no friend to ask me so much as how I do.

Yet is thy soul at liberty. No barricaded walls, no iron gates or grates, no dark dungeons can imprison that. The jail is a strong prison to thy body, and thy body is but, in a metaphorical phrase, a prison to thy soul. Thy body may not walk abroad, thy soul can. Spite of all thy cruel creditors, and some unmerciful jailors, she can break prison. She hath wings that can mount her through clouds and mountains, through orbs and constellations, and, like Enoch, walk with God, in a heavenly contemplation of his infinite goodness. My ears cannot hear those heavenly choristers, singing their Creator's praise in the groves, but my soul, in speculation, can hear the anthems of the angels in heaven. I may not hear the hosannahs of the church militant in our material temples below, but I may conceive that my soul hears the hallelujahs of the church triumphant above. I may not walk in the green pastures and flowery meadows on earth, but my soul may move iu the glorious and melodious galleries of heaven. Thus, 0 Lord, though in my strictest confinement here below, thou hast given me large liberty above, still I would glorify thee for all thy mercies, for thy comforts delight my soul.

(5.) Another's complaint is: I am vexed with a multitude of troubles. Not the law of the sword, but the sword of the law hath disquieted me. Let thy soul ask thy conscience this question, Who did first break the peace ? If thou hast first overwhelmed that truth which should be apparent, thou art thine own enemy. For truth, smothered in wet straw, will at length overcome the darkness of that suppression, and set on fire the sins thereof. Thou hast foi'saken the truth, and art therefore forsaken of peace.

There be two chief preservers of the soul, under the almighty Creator of it, truth and peace. How invaluable are they together ! Parted, how miserable ! Truth is the precious stone, peace the gold wherein it is both set and preserved. Trath is the glorious light of the sun, peace a clear and serene heaven. Peace is a most beautiful body whilst it contains truth, that more pure, lovely soul. Truth brings down heaven to us, peace bears us up to heaven. Both are sisters, the daughters of one Father, God himself.

Do thou first recover truth. By continual labour seek it, with prayers and tears beg it, with the expense of much son-ow buy it, and then peace will come into the bargain. God's comforts shall again delight thy soul.

(6.) Another complains: I am cast out of doors. I have no harbour but the hedges, nor lodging but the fruitless ground. Poverty hath sent out her excommunications against me. All that have an estate are forewarned to shun my company.

Consider, wL'.'n had Jacob so sweet a night's rest as when the pillow he laid his head upon was a hard stone ? Then was that ladder set by him by which his soul might climb up to heaven in a vision, whereof before he had but the speculation. The angels were dancing those measures, and singing those raptures about him, which did in a manner angelify him. His body lay on the bare earth; his soul, with those spiritual wings of faith and love, was mounted above the clouds, above the orbs, even conversant in the highest heavens.

When had Elias more excellent provision than when his breakfast was brought him in the morning, and his supper in the evening, by a raven ? The messenger was homely, but the diet was heavenly. It came from the table of that gi-eat King, whose hospitality feeds, not only men, but even the fowls of the air, the beasts upon earth, and the fishes of the sea. The prophet's lodging was but a field-bed, yet, even then and there, the lions were a guard about him, the tutelar angels did surround him, and the divine providence preserved him.

If we be destitute of other lodging, and be driven to the common earth, yet we have a house over our heads, ' not made with hands, but an eternal mansion in the heavens.' There is also a canopy for us, a roof arched over with the two poles, and set with inuumei'able glistering stars. Yea, there is an omnipotent love that protects us, a material heaven encompassing us, and a spiritual heaven within us, the peace of a good conscience, assuring us of our eternal salvation through Christ Jesus. This is a softer lodging than the cabins of merchants, or the hammocks of seafarers, yea, than the most cui'ious beds the harbingers can procure for princes. Oh, how sweetly doth the Christian rest, when he hears that voice out of the oracle of goodness ! My gi-ace is sufficient for thee, my comforts shall delight thy soul!

(7.) But another's complaint is : I am perplexed with sickness. I am a mark against which pain shoots his arrows. I waste away with languish-ments, as ice is dissolved by heat in water. Rest patient. This consumption shall be consumed. Death, that universal executioner of mankind, shall be executed. Time shall cut off death, and eternity shall make an end of time. Death shall have no gi'ave left for his monument, or trophy of his victories ; and the angel hath sworn that time shall be no more. Thy sickness may outlast thy physician, but thy soul shall outlive thy sickness, and nothing shall outlive thy soul.

But the pangs of my body are so violent, that they assault me with distraction. Fear not; they may beleaguer thee with distrust, but never overcome that faith which thou puttest in the God of all consolation. He is a most faithful Creator, and wiD, serrare depositum, keep that soul safe, with which the believer hath entnisted him. The breaches of the body ai-e the soul's windows, and afford her a more clear prospect into heaven, enkindling within her an ardent desire to be with God in gloiy. Job's abundant sores would have bred in him a continuity' of sorrows, but for that antidote of faith, and sa\'ing cordial of hope, that his eyes should see his Redeemer in blessedness.

The smiling sun flatters the traveller out of his cloak, whereas the robus-tioiis wind causeth him to wrap it the closer about him. God forbid that the Christian religion should be but a cloak, yet the outward profession of it is somewhat loosened by wanton health, and sickness wins it more inwardly to the heart. Experienced merchants tell us that, in the hottest countries, they find most relief in the hottest drinks. A wonder to us that live in the cold climates ; but that the suu'a adventitious heat so sucks out the radical

moisture and spirits, that it leaves the heart feeble, and destitute of its natural comforts. It is a maxim in philosophy, that one heat avocates another, the gi'eater the less. The heat of the sun draws forth the heat of the heart, and leaves it fainting. Poor Lazarus, with his scabs and scraps, was 3'et in a better condition than the rich man, with his princely wardrobe and his costly viands. Continued health hath maintained wanton desires and delights upon earth, but sickness hath sent many souls up to heaven. Yea, Lord, even with sickness afflict my body, so that thy heavenly comforts do delight my soul.

(8.) It is a general complaint, Afflictions environ me; in my short pilgrimage through the sharp wilderness of this world, on the one side thorns wound me, and brambles scratch me on the other. This is not only the deserved penalty of sinful nature, * Man is bom to trouble as the sparks fly upward;' but even a kind of fatality inseparable to militant grace, ' All that will Uve godly in Christ Jesus shall sufier persecution,' 2 Tim. iii. 12. That is a rare path upon earth which hath never a rub, and a calm passage by water that escapes all molestation. But more,—

Be there not some afflictions that conduce to our preservation? We have found that the falling into one grievous sin, the worst of all dangers, hath brought us to repentance, one of the best preservatives. I have heard some seamen report by experience that, in a tempest, some raging billow hath swept a man off the decks into the main ocean, yet another wave on the other side hath tossed him up into the ship again, so that he was only drenched, but not drowned. The violent pressure of one affliction hath sunk a man to distrust in God; another, with a more furious storm, hath left him destitute of all earthly succour. He now resolves, The world hath forsaken me ; I will never look for relief from it again. But my God hath not forsaken me ; and he never will forsake them that trust in him through Jesus Christ. To him I fly; upon him I rely. He will not sufier me to perish. Still, 0 Lord, in all my extremities ' thy comforts delight my soul.'

(9.) Not offering to number man's grievances, which be innumerable, there is yet the last, and it may prove the best, complaint remaining.

I am perplexed with the woful consideration of my sin, those ' bitter things which God writes against me,' the irksome recollection of my transgressions. I can argue with philosophers, consult with politicians, hear the ingenious fancies of poets, reason in domestic concernments, enjoy the company of moral and harmless friends with delight. I can pray with confidence to be heard and satisfied; I do hope with some assurance of salvation; I lie upon a peaceful piUow. Thus far I am in a calm and serene atmosphere, and quiet be all my thoughts.

But after all this sunshine there ariseth a tempest. When I do recollect, or be represented unto my conscience, my innumerable, incomparable, intolerable sins, the remembrance of them is so frightful, the burden of them is so insupportable, that I dare not even look up unto heaven. Faith lies fainting, hope is in a swoon, fear stands by the bedside, despair lies gaping at the chamber door, and my soul is in an ecstasy. I am weary of all company but those that speak of mercy. I sit mourning all the day long ; sorrow and solitude are my associates. I do shed some tears, and would weep tears of blood for my sins. I lament because my sorrows are not greater for offending my God,

Well, yet hear the Physician of souls, that speaks to thee from heaven. Weep on, bleed on; this bleeding shaU not be unto death, Jesus Christ

liatb a balsam, that shall not only staunch thy bleeding, but fill the veins of thy soul with comfort. His blood is an antidote for thine. One drop of that shall satisfy for more sins than ever thou hast committed.

Weep on for tliy transgressions. These floods of tears shall not drown thee. Yea, rather, hke the waters of that universal deluge, in that saving ark, Christ Jesus, they shall bear up thy soul towards heaven. They shall not drown thee; yea, they shall rather save thee from being drowned. This is that secunda tabula after shipwreck, the main plank that shall preserve thee from perishing, emergent repentance.

There be two most valiant and puissant soldiers that are the soul's champions, Faith and Repentance. They fight not only against lust and sin, those giants of the world; but also against principalities and powers, those infernal spirits of darkness. Faith hath her weapons and forces, but Repentance hath many disadvantages.

1. Other soldiers fight standing; she kneeling. They in a posture confronting their enemies; she in humiliation, though not tergiversation, from her opposites. They send forth their messages of death in thundering ordnance; aU her thunder is sighs and groans, sent up to heaven for mercies. They let fly their fiery engines of destruction; she hath only her ejaculations. Her most piercing darts are broken hearts. Their shafts are winged with fii-e; her arrows are feathered with water, her own soft tears. They swallow up the hope of \ictory with insultation; she, in a humble prostration, expects pity. Yet the God of all power and mercy, whom she beleaguers in heaven, yields her the conquest. He comes fr'om his impregnable throne by his most gracious favour; and instead of confounding her as a rebel, he useth her as a friend or daughter. He takes her up from her knees, he wipes away all her tears, he folds her in his anns, he seals her a pardon of all sins, and assures her of an everlasting kingdom in heaven. 0, victorious Repentance ! yea, rather, 0, triumphant goodness ! 0, God, teipsum vincis, thou overcomest thyself; thus thy comforts dehght our souls.

It is reported of Alexander, that when he thought, and did but think so, he had conquered all this world, he fell a weeping because there were no more worlds to conquer. But there was remaining another world, a better than ever Alexander discovered; but this was not for an Alexander, by force of anns, but for a Mary Magdalene, by force of tears, to overcome.

It is true, the kingdom of heaven suffers violence; but the way of conquest is not through the blood of bodies, but through a flood of tears, gushing out for our sins. This is such a stratagem of war, such a policy of conquest, as the great mouarchs of the world never imderstood. Yet even this, through faith, overcomes the world.

Faith hath a plot, which she hath taught her daughter Repentance, cojjce-dendo superare, to overcome by yielding. It is a stratagem among WTestlers, that if a man can get himself under his antagonist, he lifts him up, the sooner to cast him down; yea, to give him the greater fall. Repentance stoops as low as she can. She lies, like Joshua, upon the bare earth; j-ea, wallows in dust and ashes. She holds herself not worthy to be God's footstool. Let him trample upon her and tread her under his feet, she still holds him by the feet, washeth them with her tears, wipeth them with the hairs of her head, and kisseth them, though she be spurned by them. Doth this humble prostration provoke fury ? No; it rather invites mercy. Parcere prostratis scit nohilis ira Icon is. The Lion of the tribe of Judahwill spare such lambs of humihation, and in the pastures of consolation he will

both feed and preserve them. That thunder which dissolves the precious metal, yet spares the yielding purse. Wlien power and policy have spent their spirits, submission is found the only way of conquest. The fearful thunder of vengeance is resisted by the soft wool of repentance.

2. Yet hath this blessed grace another disadvantage. Faith, the chief of all the forces, may be sometimes benighted, through the conglomeration of the clouds condensed by our sins. Hope may be eclipsed by the interposition of the earth, our worldlj^ imaginations, betwixt us and that great luminaiy of heaven, the Sun of righteousness. The sentry of a watchful conscience may be overcome with security. Sin is a subtle enemy, and his father, the devil, will shew him the opportunity. Now is the time of invasion ; seize on them, and cut all their throats. Wliat shall Repentance do, when Faith, the great lady-general, droops, and Hope, her lieutenant-general, is fainting, when the whole sentry is overcome with slumber ?

Yes, there is a watchman in the tower of the soul, that doth seldom sleep, holy Fear. He wakens conscience ; conscience calls up faith ; faith rouseth hope ; hope cries aloud to repentance ; repentance troops up all the natural forces ; the martial music gives the alann ; the soldiers are in battle array ; the enemies fly ; the mind is at peace ; because God's comforts delight the soul.

3. One disadvantage more makes dangerous work for repentance. The troops of Faith are routed, one wing of Hope is cut off. Yet this conquering queen of the viragtnes, or maiden graces, always brings up the rear, and never appears till the day be almost lost. When those great commanders, Innocency and Righteousness, are foiled and beaten, and leave their queen, the soul, in danger to be taken, and slain by sin and Satan, her old adversaries, then this virgo, virago, that all this while lay in expectation of the event, this martial maid, this victorious Repentance, comes in with her reserve, sets upon the conquerors with her fresh forces, rescues the queen, our soul, puts the great general, Satan, to flight, and does impartial execution upon all his soldiers, which be our sins.

Thus one grace begets another, by a supernatural generation, till they increase in number and in measure by the di^dne inspiration. Faith calls up repentance ; repentance brings in pardon and forgiveness ; pardon leads in comfort; and thus, 0 my God ! thy comforts delight my soul.

4. When God, by the preaching of his law, hath broken up the fallow ground of om' hearts, and, by the applying of his gospel, hath sown the seed of eternal life in those fun-ows, he looks that we should bestow our labour in the watering of this plantation. The ground is his, for he made it; the seed is his, for he gives it; the harvest is his, and he owns it. Yet such is the bounty of his goodness, that he gives his farmers the fruits of it. The rent of that great landlord's glory being freely paid, the product is ours, even the comfort and salvation of our poor souls. All our pains is but to hook up the weeds that would hinder the gi'owth of the corn, and dew the furrows with our tears, that it may spring up with cheerfulness. But when the reaping time comes, the whole crop is ours ; and we come home singing with joy and thankfulness, ' Thy comforts have delighted my soul.' When those glorious reapers, the angels, shall bear up our souls to heaven, like sheaves in the barn, we shall sing harvest home, and glorifj' our infinite good Lord, and our sweet Saviour, Jesus Christ.

To conclude. Crosses are but the pursuivants to fetch in repentance, and afflictions but God's letters missive for mortification. When we are fallen into some heinous transgressions, we may better say, than in our

other trouble, this will cost hot water. For so it will, indeed ; it will coat the hot waters of our tears from om* eyes, or it will cost the warm blood of our hearts. Our Rodly sorrow for our sins is like the pool of Bethesda ; when that angel from heaven, gi-acious repentance, hath troubled the waters, the lazarous soul does but step into them, and is cured. For all our spiritual diseases, this is the remedy, upon which we may safely write, prohatum est.

We have made ourselves sick by sinning. God is the physician, and he prescribes ; affliction is the apothecaiy, and he prepares ; the medicine is repentance, and that infallibly cures. It is a broken heart that makes us whole. God loves a tnie heart, and a clean heart, and an honest heart, and a humble heart; yea, and he loves a broken heart, too. ' The broken and contrite heart, 0 God, thou wilt not despise,' Ps. liv. 17. It is true, we are bound to love him with our whole heart; but if it be broken with penitential soitow for sin, he will heal the fracture, redintegi'ate the heart, and re-accept it wholly to himself. A contrite heart, broken in pieces with sorrow, and pickled up in brinish tears, is a sacrifice that God will not reject.

Whosoever hath such a heart, let him make much of it. It is a dish for the Iving of kings. Sin, repentance, and pardon, are like to the three vernal months of the year, March, April, and May. Sin comes in like March, blustering, stormy, and full of bold violence. Repentance succeeds like April, showering, weeping, and full of tears. Pardon follows like May, springing, singing, full of joys and flowers. If our hands have been full oiMarch, with the tempests of unrighteousness, our eyes must be full of April, with the sorrow of repentance; and then om' hearts shall be full of May, in the true joy of forgiveness.

Her soul. As there be no comforts like those of God, so there is nothing to which comforts are so welcome as to the soul. The pleasure which the body takes is but the body ; yea, scarce the veiy shadow of pleasure. The soul of pleasure is the pleasure of the soul. There be many things pleasing to the body, wherein the sanctified soul takes no delight, especially in the day of trouble. In calamity, good nourishments are comfortable, good words are comfortable, good friends are comfortable, the physician is com-iortable, a good spouse specially comfortable; but in respect of these comforts, which do nevertheless pass all understanding, we may say of them, as Job did to his visitant friends, ' Miserable comforters are ye all.' But blessed are the souls upon whom this Sun of comfort shincth ; and happy are those showers of tears and sorrows, that shall be dried up with such beams of comfort; and 'blessed God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort,' 2 Cor. i. 3, to whom, with the Son and Holy Ghost, be all praise and glory, for ever and ever I Amen.

I—GENERAL.

j1 aron, his submission to God's will, iii 110; the budding of his rod as inexplicable as tlie conception of tlie ViiKin, iii. 202.

Abel, respondence of Christ to, in many particulars, ii. 67S; had his sanctity from grace, Cain his im-piety from nature, iii. 1S6.

Abraham, Job, and other saints, have been rich, but not worldly, iii. la3.

Absolution, only declaratory, ii. 42.

Abstinence, a means of health, and a help to devotion, i. 427.

Accommodations of Scripture, Komanist, i. 10

Accusers of the wicked, tlieir consciences, all the creatui'es, all the elements, men, and devils, ii. 551.

ActcBon, moral of his story, i. 18.

Actions, the be.*t, of an unjustified man, so leavened with his own corruption, that God abhors them, ii. 345.

Adam, heinousness of his sin, i. 407 ; made neither of man nor woman, Eve of man without woman, ordinary men and women of both man and woman, Christ of woman without man, ii. 210 ; iii. 246; wrought because he was happy, his children must work that they may be happy, ii. 176, iii. 124 ; Jewish fancies about, iii. 133 ; his great wisdom in natural, supernatural, and future things, 130 ; uncertain whether he knew of the fall of the angels, ib ; how long between his creation and fall ? 1S2 ; heinousness of his sin, 184 ; contained ten sins in one, ib. ; yet not the greatest sin, considered in it.self, 189 ; was his or Eve's greater? different opinions stated, ib. ; greater, equal, or less, in different respects, 190.

Adam, in the second, we gain more than we lost in the first, iii. 133 ; as the first was the root of all corruption, so is the second of all sanctiflci-tion, 255.

Adder, way in which she is said to shut her ears, i. 3S4.

Adoni bezel-, a notable Instance of retribution, i. 219, ii. 370.

Adoption, proved by sanctiftcation, i. 401 ; is of the Father as the fountain, of the Son as the conduit, of the Holy Ghost as the cistern, of faith as the cock by which it runs into our hearts, ii. 205 ; in law, only allowed to those who had no children of th^ir own, iii. 101 ; but with God it is not to suppiy aefocts, but to communio.ite his perfection and abuudanc*-, ib ; grace of God in, 102. Adrian, Tope, killed by a fly, iii. 266. Adulterer.'!, shall have the fire of hell added to the

fire oflust, i. 220. Adulter//, its heinousness as a sin, i. 184, 2.50 ; its prevalence in Italy and in England, 185 ; a cursed though a much coursed way, ii. 411 ; a sharp thorn, wounding the purse, envenoming the body, condemning the soul, 482. jE!.op, his fable of the wolf and the lamb, i. 15. Affections, natnxal, may lead astray even a saint,

VOL. in.

i. 23 ; not forbluaeii t)ut rectified by religion, ii. 331. Atniction, uses of, i. 49 ; brought Job to the knowledge of God, 50 ; its use to arouse the secure, ii. 195 ; to Christians is the bringer of good news, assuring them that they are no bastards, iii. 26 ; sometimes makes an evil man good, always a good man better, 27 ; a blessing to the good, 154. Aaathocles, the son of a potter, Bion of a courtezan,

"ii. 257. Age, fancy of some that saints in glory shall all be

of the age at which Christ died, ii. 401. 'Agnus castus,' its viitues, ii. 4G3. Agreement in evil, not peace but coni^piracy. ii. J47. Alcibiades, le.ider of the fashion in Athens, ii. 223. Ale-houses, should be destroyed, as a check to

drunkenness, ii. 4S0. Alexander, the Great, his courage, i. 96; claimed to be considered a god, 198 ; his conquests compared with those of the gospel, 450 ; his valorous deeds sullied by the murder of Callisthenes, ii. 355 ; thought himself the son of Jupiter .\mmon, till he saw his own blood, iii. 64; dialogue at his tomb, 70; wept because he had no more worlds to conquer, 297. Alexander VI., Pope, his epitaph, i. 182 ; a beast, entered like a foiL, reigned like a lion, and d'ed like a dog, ii. 241 ; he and the Borgias poisoned with the cup they hud prepared for the cardinals, 371. Allegory (from Bernard) respecting the opposition of the world to the churcli, i. 93; representing pleasure, riches, and Chri.-<t, 327 ; of men seeking wealth and losing heaven, ii. 410. A Imanacs, their predictious always false, iii 174. Ambition, an inviter to the devil's banquet, i 162 ; becomes its own punishment, 248; madness, 282 ; compared to immoderate thirst, 489 ; none good but to be sons of God, 256. Anabaptists; a gioss, perverse, and sottish sect, ii. 152; hold tliat the chuiches were so polluted by Romanism tliat they ought not to be used for Protestant wor.sliip, 287; imagine the church like a tick, all body and no head, the papists like a toad-stool, all bead and no body, 524. Anarchy, the mother of di\ision, ii. 326. Anaiagoras, thought men to be superior to animals only through having hands, i. 14; his comment on his son's death, 257. Angels, unable to make atonement for men, ii. 426; their nature, 612; not mere qualities and motions, but spiritual substances, really subsisting, i6.; have sometimes taken visible forms, ib.; questions as to tlie bodies which they have assumed, i6.; their knowledge, natural, experU nientiil, revealed. 513; not omniscient, ib. ; their power, i6.; their dignity, superior to men, 514; their distinction."*, ib.; Gregory makes nine orders of Uiem, ib.; their ministry, 515 ; to God, it.; to

INDEX.

his church, 516; to his enemies, 517 ; their number, 518 ; has each person, kingdom, &c., a special guardian ? ib. and iii. 82 ; examination of passages which seem to favour this idea, ii. 518 ; fancies of the schoolmen concerning, 519 ; distinguished by pureness of substance, readi-ness of obedience, and fervour of charity, ib. ; objects of our imitation, 520; not to be worshipped, 521 ; as ordinarily present as ever, though not seen, iii. 241 ; are with us at all times, especially in our devotions ; in all places, especially in the house of God, 242 ; the good would not hurt us if they could ; the evil sliall not, thoHgh they would, if we be in God's favour, 250 : have joy, but no comfort, because tliey have no sorrow, 289.

Anoer, God's, iii 265, et seq.

Anger, inseparable from zeal, but mu-=t serve and not rule, i 34 ; madness, 285 ; in the best sense is the gift of God, 476 ; Instances of unreasonable, ib. ; cure furnished by nature and g' ace, 478; a shelf on which innocence is wrecked, ii. 315 ; of God, is either his corrective or his vindicative justice, iii. 267 ; towards his own people is different from that towards the children of disobedience, in respect of continuance, measure, and end, 273.

' Anglia,' a corner of the world, iii. 61.

Angry man, a ship with the devil for a pilot, iii. 43.

' Annus mirabilis' (1588), i. 419.

Anstcers, two kinds of bad ones, the abrupt and the tedious, ii. 92.

Anthony, St, legend of his turning a toad into a capon by the sign of the cross, ii 40.

Anthropornorphites, their error, i 156.

A nthropopathy; when passions are ascribed to God it is to be understood quoad effectum, non quoad affectum, i. 343.

Antigonus, story of one of his soldiers, iii. 26.

Aphraades, his reason for leaving hi monastery, i. 456.

Apocrypha, may be used as scripture against the Romanists, iii. 195.

Apologue,' The race of felicity,' ii. 420 ; of a great king who married his daughter to a poor gentleman, on certain conditions, 465 ; concerning election and holiness, 545 ; concerning the shortness of life, iii. 145 ; of hope and life, security and jealousy, 191.

Apostasy, the seeds of, timorousnessand self-love, which are within every Christian, ii. 354.

Apostate, his misery, ii. 60 ; hopelessness of his condition, 65.

Apothecaries, sin of their adulterating their medi-cines, i. 146.

Applause, desire of popular, an obstacle to the success of the ministry, i. 452.

Apple, sin of eating, when forbidden, iii. 187.

Application, sermons uselesi without, i. 356.

Apprentices, not to be treated as slaves, iii. 113.

Archimedes, attempted to count the sand, iii. 153.

Aristides, died from the bite of a weasel, wished it had been a lion, iii. 28.

Aristotle, his saying regarding beneficence, i. 135.

Arithmetic, not geometry, sins to he estimated by, ii .352.

Armada, Spanish, its destruction, i. 93, 419 ; ii. 126 ; providential deliverance of England from it, the plague, and the gunpowder plot, i. 133.

Armour of God, does not include crosses, cruci-fl.\es, Ac, iii. 30.

Arrotr, the devil's three-winged, wealth, pride, voluptuousness, ii. 127.

Artichoke, world compared to, iii. 3.

Arts, learned from animals, ii. 24.

Ashes, significance of repenting in dust and, i. 58.

Ass, fable of golden, applied to flatterers, i. 8.

Assurance of salvation, attainable, i. 60 ; desirable, ib. ; after it there may still be some fear, 61; to extend our desires, t'i).; to enlarge our joys on its recovery, ib.; to test the disinterestedness of our service, ib. ; to lead to greater carefulness, ib.; produced by the concurrent testimony of God's Spirit and our spirits, 63; the greatest

comfort under every trial, 64 ; cannot be without a good conversation, ii. 456.

Astrologii, a foolish and wicked study, iii. 128; 162; 173.

Atheism, its heinonsness, i. 177 ; a tree, of which error and ignorance are the leaves, profaneness and rebellion the fruit, and the end is the axe and the fire, 181.

Atheists, their nature and condition, i. 309 ; a dead beast better than a living atheist, ib. ; confuted by nature, by the devil, by their own dying hearts, ib ; should be punished by the civil magistrate, ii. 227; are worse than the devil, 341 ; cannot go to heaven, nor to hell as atheists, iii. 60.

Athenians, would sacrifice for none hut themselves and their neighbours of Chios, i. 397.

Athens, her ill-treatment of her benefactors illustrates the return which men make to Christ, i. 132.

Augustine, calls himself the least, not only of apostles, but of bishops, ii. 214; his gloss of ' our Father which art in heaven,' 261 ; his short method with objections to the resurrection, 341 ; his special regret was that he had not seen Christ in the flesh, 573.

Authority, or ministry of the church, which is the ground of faith ? i. 45-5.

A varice, madness, i 280 ; a sin in any man ; in a clergyman, heresy, 388; in a magistrate, blasphemy, ii. 259.

Babel, tower of, a monument of man's folly and

God's power, iii. 71. Babylon and Jerusalem, war between, an allegory

from St Bernard, i. 93. Bad Leavbn, ii. 335 et seq. Bajazet, his threat against Tamerlane executed on

himself, i. 219. Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, his boast and

the answer to it, ii. 368. Balm, adulteration of, i. 370; various medicinal

virtues of, 374 : tests of, 385. Balsam-tree, description of, and its virtues, i. 358,

ii. 462 ; an emblem of the word of God, i. 359 ;

originally grew only in Judea, 368. Bankruptcy, fraudulent, denunciation of, i. 145;

worst in nobles, ib. ; theft, ii. 247. Banns of marriage between Christ and human

nature three times proclaimed, iii. 209. Banquet, The Fatal, i. 158 et seq. Baptism, without the gospel, does not make a true

church, ii. 531. Barcena, the Jesuit, his affectation of excessive

humility, ii. 455. Barley-water, its virtues, Ii. 464. Barren Tree, The, ii. 166 et seq. Barrenness of women who have afterwards been

the mothers of famous sons, i. 1; three reasons

assigned for it, ib. Bartholomew. St, massacre of, delightful to the

Pope, i. 306. Basil, his envy of the devU having so many ser.

vants, i. 117. Basilisk, said to kill with his eyes three furlongs

off, iii. 17. Beasts, rebel against man,hecause man has rebelled

against God, i. 4; generally the strongest are

the gentlest, 15 ; would have been immortal but

for man's sin, iii. 137 ; their souls not substances

but peculiar qualities, 146 ; wild (figurative),

that should be exterminated, i. 16. Beauty, like an almanac, well if it last a year, iii

3 ; consists merely in colour, 54; of the church,

whence derived, i. 398. Bedlam, Mtstical, i. 254 et seq. Beggar, a poor, in better condition than a rich

miser, i. 194. Beginning, the creatureo were from the, Christ

was in, and therefore before, iii. 234. 'Behold,' in Scripture, always an Intimation ot

something excellent, ii. 110, Beings, of four sorts; some from everlasting, not

to everlasting (God's decrees); some to crerlast-

inR. not from cverlastinf:; Ood from cverlnstlnpt to eveilastine; others neither from everlasting nor to everlnstinp, iil. 58.

lielierers. daul to sin, i. 228; to the law, 229 ; to tlie world. t6.

lielierirg, three decrees or differences of, credere Deum, Deo, in Denm, iii. 87 ; I believe that he is, that he is good, that he is good to me, ib.

lleUsariuf; his poverty, i. 1.'4

Iii;i.L, The Sinnkr.s' Pas-^ino, i 32!) et fcq.

J!tUs, five, to rouse the sinner, ii 193

Jicne_f!cetice, one cf the iiatcs of tlie city of peace, ii. 31S ; the principal gate, "themost excellent way," 319.

Benefits, ohlicatory, and bind to thankful duty, ii. 536 ; rule for bestowing on the ungrateful, iii. 103

Benevolence and beneflccnee, the two points of liberality, ii. 406.

Bcii^dlis c ill ticcrs by name of endearment, for fear of Offcndini; them, i. 2S2.

Bernard, allegory quoted from, i 31; his rule of .speecli, i 187, iii. 14.

Bible, privilege of having it in our own tongue, i 6G ; like the garden of Eden, whence rise the rivers of wisdom to direct, of oil to soften, of comforts to refresh, of promises to confirm, 392.

Bitth, not high, but new, make us truly noble, ii. 257 : both first and second, begin with crying, iii. 78.

Birlbriijhl, transference of, from Esau to Jacob, a type of the rejection of the Jews and call of the Gentiles, i. P ; a holy thing, therefore Esa« called profane for selling it, 22; but not Jacob for buying it, i6.

Bishops, continually preiching to some particular congregation, i. 131; their duty, ii. 122 ; ditTer-ence between them and the apostles, ii. 265 ; every bishop a priest, but every priest not a bishop, 208 ; French, threatened to excommunicate the Pope. 340.

Black Saint, The. ii. 36, et seq.

2J/asp/iem»/,swearing and Sabbath-breaking should be punished by the civil magistrate, ii. 227.

Blessedness of the righteous, far tran^^cends their sufferings, i. 96 ; both in strength and in length, 97.

Blessing, God's, the best ingredient in medicine, i. 339 ; God more inclined to, than to cursing, ii. 588 ; not to be looked for without prayer, iii. 220 ; comes from heaven through Jesus, ii. 287.

Blessings, temporal insecure, spiritual abiding, i. 154 ; of the way and of the home, ii. 4C9 ; like showers, when they fall on bad ground produce the more weeds, iii 216 ; like clouds, sometimes hide God from us, 221.

Blindness, natural, may be sometimes a good, ii. .382 ; .spiritual, came upon us by God's just curse for our Bins, 378 ; increased by actual trans, gressions, ib.; \ta danger, 382 ; means of cure, 383.

Blood of Christ, must cleanse the heart, i. 2C8 ; its infinite efficacy, ii. 428 ; shed six tmics, in his circumcision, his agony in the garden, his scourging, his crowning, his crucifying, and the piercing of his side, ii. 433 ; salvation, why ascribed to, 576 ; not yet dry, iii. 6.

Body and soul, partners in sin, ii. 7 ; by sin turned from a strong city into a frail tabernacle, 29 ; l)ain of, is but the body of jiain, while sorrow of soul is the very soul of sorrow, 433 ; not intended as the soul's sepulchre, but its organ, iii. 141 ; superiority of man's, to those of the ani-nial.t, ib.; should have been immortal but for sin, ib. ; even in it there may be some points of the divine majesty, 142 ; a tabernacle for the soul, a temple for the Lord, ib. ; members of it, description of, 143 ; wonders of its .«tructure, 144 ; is the soul's companion, yet her drudge, 149 ; excessive care of. to the neglect of the soul, foolish and sinful, 150 ; its organs made to express the devotion of the soul, 217.

Bonaientura, his paradox, iii. 192.

Bonner, Bishop, his crueltj', i. K5.

Bononus, a runlet of wise, ii. 445.

Books, impure, their mischipvou-i eflfcctg, i. 185 ; God hath st-veral, as the book of providence, of record, of every man's con.science, of monuments of truth, of life, ii. 538; of life, how wo may know that we are written In ; if our hearts be on God's book, if the ])oor bo in our books, if we order the book of our conscience, if wo can write ourselves holy on earth, 54'J; of pro. vidence, written in every man's laugua^^e, iii.lOO.

BouNTV, Gou's, i 727 ; it teq

rSoiringixX the name of Jesus defended, iii. 217.

Brain, has three divisions, as.signed to Imagination, reason, and memory, i 270.

Bread, in .Scripture, put for the supply of all bodily andspiiitual wants, i. 206; the devil's, itti pre'-]iaration, 207; of God, abstinence from, starves the soul. 430; tidings of, to the Samariti.ns joyful even fiom the mouths of lepLTS, iii. 215.

Breakfast, Adam's, will not be dijjcsted till doomsday, iii. 192.

Briars, some hearts like, will not bear rough handling, i. 34S; the Moorish, compared to drunkards, ii. 480.

Bribery, sin of,i. 147; great when a judge isnribed to pronounce a just sentence, greater when to pronounce an unjust, ib. ; an invitcr to the devil's banquet,! 103.

Britons, ancient, their complaint to the liomans, i. 351.

Brokers, thieves, ii. 247; their extortion said to bo enormous, ib.

Brotherhood, is more important than distinctions, ii. 267.

Bro^rniits and Papists rail at each other, but agree to attiict the church, i 178; their railing against the Church of England, ii. 152.

ZJi/cWer, becomes a Christian better than a sword, i 83.

Bulls of Home should be hunted out of England, i. IS.

' Bull, the hangman,' made short work with the bulls of Home, ii. 340.

El'kdks, Thk Gallant'.s i. 2^4, et seq

Burden, the word of the Lord a heavy, on the soul. i. 297.

Busii-bohi, a madman, i. 2S4; compared to a man with the itch, 501.

C's, four, the court, the city, the country, the

chutcli, their daughters, i. 126 Caiaphas, worse than the devil, i. 178. Camomile, its qualities, ii. 465. Canal, to connect the Mediterranean and IJed

Seas, projected by an Egyptian king, atterwards

by Darius, iii. 124. Canonists, call the Pope ' Our Lord God,' 1. 115. Canopis, mythological story of. ii. 154. Canutus, his answer to his flatterers, i. 189. Cardinal, a French, preferred his part in Paris to

his part in Paradi.se, ii. 132 ; iii. 48. Care, the inseparable companion of abundance,

ii. 123. ' Care-avay,' its virtues, ii. 466. ' Carotise' derivation of, ii. 443. Catechising, disuse of, has led to shallowness of

knowledge, iii. SO. Cato, his three faults, ii. 197. Celibacy, of the I'omish clergy, a mockery, iii.

368 ; compulsory, sinful, iii. 139. Ceremonies, the fewer, the nearer perf'ction, ii.

99 ; of a superstitious church retained by the

Church of England, but without the superstition

of the ceremonies, 156; Levitical, at first dying,

then dead, now deadly, iii. 204. Chance, has no existence in respect of God's pre-

science, but in respect of our ignorance, iii. 153. Charily and lust begin at home, i. 52 ; never makes

a man poorer, ii. 9 ; greater than faith and

hope, objections answered, 280; its prelation

shewn in six particulars, 281; to the poor, not

a work of supererogation, but obligation, 328. Charles v., his hypocrisy, i. 103. Charms, spells, and conjurations, all lying vanities^

i. 1G2; the devil's, ii. 26.

INDEX.

Cheaters, should be hunted down like foxes, i. 17.

Children, often a plea for covetousness and oppression, ii. 136 ; anxieties of parents for, iii. 8; comfort in their death, 103 ; their untowardness a consequence of our untowardness to God, 107 ; are certain cares, uncertain comforts, 251.

Choice, The Holy, ii. 254, et seq.

C'holer, the first degree of auger, i. 477.

Chiust's Star, ii, 1, et seq.

Christ, suffers with his persecuted people, i. 85 ; conceived in a womb where none else was conceived, received into a tomb where none else was interred, will dwell in a heart where no sin is entertained, 181 ; none know him truly who do not love him sincerely, 245 ; who do not hate iniquity, ib. ; his sufferings, 252 ; ' the way, the truth, and the life,' paraphrased from Augustine, 3G2; refused to he a king, denied to be a judge, but vouchsafed to be a preacher, ii. Ill; a Iamb, in respect of innocence, patience, profit, 113; his flesh meat, non deniis sed mentis, 114 ; his imputed righteousness clothes our nakedness, hides our uncleanness, ib. ; in what sense he feared death, 215 ; a man, 422; an innocent man, ib. ; a great man, royally descended frnm the ancient patriarchs and kings of Jndah, 423 ; very God, ib.; took man's nature, ib. ; tlie form of a servant, 424 ; reputed as equal with thieves and murderers, i6. ; in his feeling is forsaken of God, 425 ; in his sufferings had neither partner nor comforter, 428 ; given of God, born of the Virgin, yet so that lie who was given was before, as born he was not before, iii. 5 ; his cause and his cross commonly go together, 48 ; dearly earned his throne, 72; the Son of the Father, naturally, singularly, consubstantially, co-eter-rally, 99 ; is one flesh with all men, but all men are not one spirit with him, 210 ; is life and light, the sun and the sum, the founder and tlie finisher of all perfect blessedness, 225 ; not a lord, but Lord of lieaven, earth, death, and hell, 229.

' Christ,' a name of ofBce, iii. 219.

Christian's Walk, The, ii. 403, etseg.

Christian, for his faitli is lord of all, for his love servant of all, ii. 207 ; a temple, his mouth the porch, his sanctified mind the holy place, his purified conscience the holy of holies, 3)4 ; obligations derived from this view, 305 ; free from the law, not from obedience to it, but from the curse of it, iii 82 ; his generous and noble delights, 89 ; one true, is more precious than all the world, 248 ; his sins most of all anger God, because there is in them not only wickedness, but also unkindness, 274.

Church. The Happiness of, ii. 493, et seq.

Church, her two daughters, poverty and contempt, i. 126 ; reasons for frequenting, 367 ; why called a pillar, 371; may he sick, but cannot die, 409 ; may be sick, either through some inbied distemper, or some outward calamity, ib.; people attend for custom, as fools ; for example, as apes ; for necessity, as beasts ; for praises, as hypocrites ; or for pence, as politicians, 452 ; ever its portion to do good, and suffer evil, 466 ; a universal, not to be expected in this world, ii. 392 ; not to be abandoned, because there are some ■wicked men in it, 393 ; attending by proxy, 477 ; compared to a city, for safety, unity, paucity, 501 ; different meanings of the term, 622 ; one, though consisting of two parts, triumphant and militant, ib. ; Christ its only head, 523 ; no salvation out of, ib. ; catholic in respect of time, persons, and place, 524 ; infallible mark of the true, is the right administration of the sacraments, and sincere preaching the true doctrine of the gospel, 526 ; depends on tlie Scrip, tures, not the Scriptures on it, ib. ; taken out of the side of Christ bleeding, as Eve out of the side of Adam sleeping, 577.

Church of England, sin of separation from.il. 393.

Church-ile/rauder, rides over men's head.", i. 87.

Church-robbers, the worst'if all thieves, U. 244; their heirs never flnive, 245.

Church-wardens, their neglect of duty, ii. 122;

like 'those of the house of Chloe,'are to present misdemeanours, 272 ; generally too lax, ib.

Church-zoork, proverbially slow work, ii. 269.

Circumstances, modify the character of actions, ii. 222.

CiTV OF Pf.ace, The, ii. 310, et seq.

City, her four daughters, fraud, hypocrisy, usury, and sensuality, i. 126 ; perilous for pride, ii 502.

Cities, why men build, ii. 504.

Ciiizens of heaven, are either created or adopted, (angels or men), ii. 567 ; iii. 81.

Clergy, inadequate support of, i. 467.

Codrus, king of Athens, his self-devotion, i. 379.

Coldness, profane, worse than fiery zeal, ii. 342.

Colour, the beauty of the world consists merely in, iii. 54.

Comfort, Man's, iii. 280, et seq.

Comfort, sometimes wanting to a saint, i. 61; comes to God's people whence and when they least expect it, ii. 12 ; in heaven without crosses, in hell crosses without comforts ; on earth, comforts and crosses, joy and grief, peace and trouble, misery and mercy, are blended together, 600 ; derived from the relation in which we stand to God as children, iii. 101; from the consideration of God as our Creator, 123 ; God's are suitable to all our sorrows, 290.

Coming of Christ, threefold ; among men, into men, against men, ii. 215.

Commandment, second, the Romanists have put out of their Catechism, and the whole Decalogue out of their consciences, ii 290.

Communion of saints, in what it consists, ii. 391.

Companions of well-doers ; good Christians, good angels, good works, the most good Saviour, ii. 199.

Company, good, as a means to hinder Satan's working on the affections, ii. 46 ; danger of evil, iii. 108.

Comparisons, their use in preaching, i. 335 ; with the wickedness of others, make men have too high an opinion of their own worth, ii. 382.

Conception of Christ, iii. 237 ; was the action of the whole Trinity, yet ascribed especially to the Holy Ghost, 254 ; yet the Holy God did not beget, but form him, 255.

Concupiscence, original, a sin, iii. 198.

Conference with otliers may make us wise or learned, with ourselves is the way to make us holy, iii. 287.

Confession, essential to deliverance, i. 355; fable about Romish, ii. 1C2 ; and penance, the principal wheels of the Jesuits' policy, 340.

Conscience, its searing, i 231 ; horrors of an evil, 240; may be silenced for a time, but not always, 241 ; like fire under a pile of green wood, 251 ; anguish of, none like it, 437 ; trouble of, not a. grace in itself, but used by God as an instrument of good, ib. ; sometimes means only concupiscence, ii 322 ; good, better than credit, 544; like the poise of a clO"k, iii. 65 ; compared to a stomacli, 193; the timorous, better than the careless, ib.

Consistency, its importance to ministers, i. 459.

Constancy, the diamond in the ring of grace, i. 142.

Constantine, the Gieat, story of him and a countryman, i. 278

Constantinople, people of, terrified by an earthquake, i. Ill ; horrors of its fall, 345.

Contemplation of the llEnss, ii. 457, et seq.

Contempt of others, makes men contemptible, i. 449.

Contention, The Fire of, ii 145, et seq.

Contention, like fire in four particulars, ii. 148.

Contentious man, a madman, i 285 ; makes work. for lawyers, cutlers, surgeons, the devil, and all for his own destruction, »6.

Contentment fills all the chinks of the soul, as wax doth the seal, ii 249.

Contraries, by their comparisons, cast great light on each other, iii. 268.

Contrition, the first step of return to God, ii. 20.

Convirsion, sound, proved by good conversation, i. 362 ; tests of, ii. 45 ; a greater miiacle than the rending of the rocks, 108.

Copernicus, his sj-stcm njected, iii. 1G2.

Copr, Love's, ii. 413, et seq.

Com, enrrossers of, sliould he hnntod down like badpers, i. 17 ; they ride over men's heads, 8(5 ; must be made mcai before it can be made bread, 80 tlie heart must be fround by the law, before it can lie leavened t)y tlie gospel, ii. 8U.

Correction of God's people, is pro]>ortioned, not to their deserts, hut to tlietr strenctli, iii. 273.

Coronation of Clirist, not complete till the resur. rection, ii. 4()'J.

Corruption, inherent, nourl.slied by corrupt actions, i, 204 ; of a churcli. not cround for separation, ii. 107 ; universal, therefore sanctiflca-tion must be so too, 349.

Co>MopoLiTK, TiiK, ii. 123, et seq.

(Counsel, good, should he given with, not in.'tead of, alm^', ii. 5t)2 ; of God, eternal and unchangeable, iii. 115.

Country, her three daughters, ignorance, unchari-tableness, and ill-custoin. i 12C.

Court, her three daujjiitcrs, pride, avarice, and lu.xury, i. 126.

Covenant of grace, iii. 205 ; the free mercy of God its only cause, 208 ; every letter of it worthy to be written in letters of gold. 2U.

Covetous man, compiU'od to the caterpillar, i. 7S ; wor.-e than the devil, 104 ; steals quiet from his bones, peace from his conscience, grace from his soul, i6 ; his wretchedness, 195 ; takes great pains to go to hell, 190 ; cannot have enough on earth, shall have enough of fire in hell, 220 ; his career, 22S ; like a hog, roots in the earth, and is of no use till he is dead, 480; a slave to the devil'.s slave, 482 ; may have what he desired, never what he desires, ii. 27 ; like a dung-hill, 45S.

Covetoujinesn, the greatest of all follies, i. 249 ; an obstacle to tlie success of the ministry, 450 ; compared to the dropsy, 481; in all men iniquity, in a magistrate blasphemy, ii. 259 ; would engross the whole world, and engrosses the whole soul, 380.

Creation and providence, like the mother and the nurse, the one produceth, the other prcserveth, iii. 6 ; in the mass of the matter is attributed to the Father, in the disposition of the form to the Son, in the preservation of all to the Holy Ghost, 114 ; distinguished from generating and making, 116 ; in all the beauty of it we see our Maker's goodne,<s, in all the deformity of it our own badness. 119 ; and justification, equal power in both, greater mercy in the latter, 123 ; terius of, employed in describing redemption, ii>.

Creature, the name implies poverty, i. 155.

Creatures, are our servants so long as we sen-e God, our enemies when we areUis, i. 4; to be nged, not abused, iii. 175.

Crked, Mkditations upon the, iii. 85, et seq.

Creed, apostles', not Scripture, iii. 80.

Cretans, theii curse upon their enemies, i. 230.

Croesus, his dumb son made to speak, iii. 108.

<rops, failure of, in lt;22, ii. 184.

Crosies, rough and smarting, made easy by the unction ot comfort, iii. 155.

Crown, attained by bearing the cross, ii. 155 ; who will wear in heaven, must on earth prepare the gold to make it, 572 ; Christ's was all thorns. none is without some thorns, iii. 181.

Crucifix, a, ii. 422, et seq

' Crucified with Christ,' liow the believer is, iii. 88.

• Cup, let this, pass,' different explanations of, ii. 525 ; refusal of, to the laiiy, 577.

Curates, not to be employed but in cases of necessity, i. 38.3.

Curiosity, like rennet, turns milk into curds, i. 248 ; unlawful, its di.sa.strous results, iii. 185.

Curses, even of the wicked may hurt those who deserve to be cursed, ii. 194.

Custom, kills the soul, i. 230 ; In sin, a shrewd argument against repentance, ii. 41.

Danger, in riches, knowledge, dignity'; none la humility, iii. 192.

Darkness, why sins are called works of, I. 120.

'Daughter,' Israel so called, that she mliiht become the spouse of the .Son of Goil, 1. 395 ; prl-vileges of this relation, 390 ; for her beauty, 3»8.

DaiHd, his zeal, i. 101 ; his gratitude, i6. ; wu« neither a hypocrite nor a coward, 104 ; his tears, ii. 303; his protestations of righlcousness refer to innocence of those crimes with which he was charged by his enemies, 400 ; his love to Absalom, a figure of God's love to sinners, iii. 102 ; his faith, 101 ; his many and great sorrows, 284.

Day of life, its twelve hours, ii. 134.

Death, not good in Itself, but a means of good to believers, i. 227 ; like the taking down of a clock, that it may be repaired, ib. ; of the .soul, in what it consists, 228 ; eternal, always preceded by spiritual, '233 ; variou; in time and manner, one in matter and end, 257 ; the perfection of sickness, 333 ; of the soul, is iiiipenltency, ib. ; of the godly, often called a sleep, ii. 106 ; a triumph to the faithful Christian, 131 ; of Christ, answers the justice of God for our misdeeds, and mu.«t mi in us the will of misdoing, 431; by the wicked now most feared, shall at the last be the thing most desired, iii. 68 ; pang.s of the first, are pleasures in comparison of those of the second, 71; of reprobates and of Christians compared, 130 ; its power, "201 ; destroyed by failh, ib. ; a figure of hell, 202; temporal, spiritual, and eternal, answer to the three degrees of shi, to.

Deathbed, repentance not to be trusted, ii. 134; its only comfort, iii. 32.

Deborah, her patiiotism and piety, i. 46.

Debt, not a deadly sin when a min has not the means, hut when he has not the meaning to pay, i. 145.

Deeds, good, the best ornaments, ii. 459.

Delay, dangers of, ii. 47.

Deliberation, importance of, ii. 168.

Delights and favourite pursuits of men errploycd by God to lead them to himself, ii. 17; carnal, when resolved into their first matter, are despicable, 499 ; and their end miserable, 5U0 ; law. fill, are not to be forbidden, iii. 134.

Demades, his remonstrance to Philip of Macedon, iii. 274.

Denial, ' I deny my estimation, I deny my name, I deny my.self; but the faith of Christ, and the truth of God, I cannot deny,' (Jewell) ii. 405.

Depopulation, evil effects of, ii. 481.

Uepopulators, should be c.xtermi.iated as wild boars, i. 1" ; ride over men's heads, 86 ; their guilt, 323 ; one turned a church into a dog-kennel, ib. ; compared to serpents for iheir murderous minds, ii. 32 ; instance of one who committed suicide, ib.

Depravity, its origin, i. 26'2.

/Jescrt, better than dignity, i. 151.

DkSPAIR, I'KESUMPTION' RUNNING INTO, iii 63, CMej.

Despair, follows on presumption, i. 440 ; is dam. nation before the time, ib. ; there is a threshold of, to stumble at, a.s well as a po.st of presiimp. tion to break our heads on, ii. 455; the just reward of presumption, iii. 65 ; Instanced in Cain and Judas, ib.

Pkvil, Thk White, ii. 221, et seq.

Devil, suits the dishes of his banquet to all t:;8tes, i. 161; his agents in inviting his guests, 102; strives to parallel God in his words and wonders, 2o7 ; his iiollcy to make sin secret, 211; the great usurer, and will be paid, 215 ; a cannibal, and feasts on m.an's tlcsh, 22J ; seeks to buy the heart, 260 ; when he robs the temple of man's soul, he first carries off the altar and the lamp, sacrifice and knowledge, 353 ; will bear men's hot words, so he get their cold heart.s 392; the slave of God, wliile tlie world Is his slave, and the covetous man is the world's, 482 ; first deals by policy, then puts forth his power; first a fox, then a lion, ii. 21 ; his nature, ' so far as It Is a naiure created by God, is not evil, 40; his different names, 41 ; .si.\ senses in which he may be said to go out of men who are still unconverted, 42; his walk, 46; has no cum-

INDEX.

fort in any abode but the heart of man, 48 ; does not hurt those who are content to serve him, 49 ; not permitted to pry into God's book of predestination, 53 ; reasons of his hostihty to man, 54 ; dwells in a man by asecret and spiritual power, 65; his work heavy, his wages heavier, 94 ; why he allows his own subjects to fight and destroy one another, 147 ; never sure of a sinner till he has him in hell, ib ; a perfect hypocrite, 238 ; his method of working (as in Ps i ), 356 ; liis Christmas pie, 482, and iii. 12; God loves him as he is a nature, hates him as he is a devil, 32; tempts men to security, 35 ; not less malicious, and more experienced, than when he tempted Eve, 184; made up of power and malice, 228.

Devils, no mercy for, because they fell without temptation, ii. 49; agree, while men quarrel, 65 ; have faith, and fear, and even prayer, but no hope. 279 ; dumb, not so common now as roaring, iii. 20.

Devoiiun must be constant, fervent, rectified, con-fldent, i. 121.

Devourers, four great, in the world ; luxury, pride, gluttony, covetousness, iii 44.

Dignity, without desert, not true honour, i. 151.

Dionysius of Syracuse, his blasphemous speecli, i. 176 ; his patience under his misfortunes, ii. 116.

Discourse cannot be profitable without method, ii. 285.

Discovery of sickness necessary to recovery of liealth, ii 487.

Discretion, without, virtue becomes vice, i. 123.

Diseases are God's sermons, i. 225.

Displeasure, the height of, is to let the sinner alone, iii. 269.

Dissembled sanctity is double iniquity, being both iniquity and di.ssimulation, i. 280.

Dissension, a sickness in a church, i. 413 ; disastrous effects of, in England, 414; between the good and the good, instigated by the devil, ii.

145 ; also between the wicked and the wicked,

146 ; three evils of, 157.

Dissimulation, three kinds of, held tolerable, all others sinful, i. 28 ; all is folly, 29.

Distrust of God's mercy is madne«s, i. 274 ; is not only a weakness, but a wickedness, ii. 559.

Dives would not give a crumb, and cannot get a drop, i. 219 ; ii 371, 566 ; condemned, not for doing evil, but for not doing good, 451.

Divine Herbal, A, ii. 435 et seq.

Divinity and Physic, their fit collation, i. 333; both intend cure and recovery, 337 ; should not generally be conjoined in one person, ib.

Divinity of Christ, iii. 225, 257; union of, with humanity indispensable for our salvation, 226 ; not con.sumed when humanitywasas umed, 235.

Division, of the heart from God, of heart from heart, of the tongue from the heart, of tongue from tongue, of the heart from itself,—all consequences of sin, ii. 258 ; weakens the church, 395

Doctrine the light, the life of the preacher the lantern which carries it, ii. 271 ; transforms men into its own likeness, iii. 227

Dogs licking the sores of Lazarus, confute the stony bowels of Dives, i. 407 ; sinners compared to, as usurers to mastiffs, duellists to blood, hounds, &c., ii. 119.

Dorothea, Saint, hymn to, quoted, ii. 428.

Dotage, a judgment for inconstancy, i. 476.

Double Umnan, monstrous, iii. 15

Doves, emblems of the clmrch, in beauty, chastity, fruitfulness, amity, unity, ii. 33 ; said to have no gall, ib.

Dreams, some natural, some preternatural, some supernatural, ii. 14; supernatural, mo^t frequent at the first introduction of the gospel, 16 ; faith not to be grounded upon, but on the Scriptures, ib ; shew the current of the thoughts, 17. 'Dress, extravagance in, ruins nuny, i 190 ; orna-ment in, not lurl>idden by God, ib.

Dressers of the vineyard, the whole body of ministers, ii. 108.

Drunkards, compared to the serpent called dipsas

i. 78 ; shall drink the cup of vengeance, 220 ', are in the vanguard of madmen, 283; worse than beasts, ib. ; spiritual, engrossers, the proud, the ambitious, the usurer, the impropriator, the worldling, the dishonest tradesman, the unconscionable lawyer, ii. 444 ; like a bog, a fog, a fen, 45S.

Drunkenness leads to poverty, to theft, and to the gallows, i. 194; its evils, 250 ; once the shame of beggars, now the pride of gallants. 320 ; ii. 444; accompanies gluttony, ii. 125 ; its wastefulness, 229 ; and whoredom, horiid idolatries, 301.

Duelling, murder, i. 183 ; frivolous causes of, t6.; its sinfulness, ii. 321 ; six thousand gentlemen killed in France in ten years, 322 ; drinking leads to it, ib. ; excuses for, 556; is called lionour, but is homicide, ib.

Duke, the munificence of one at the marriage-supper of his daughter, ii. 418.

Du-mah, the country of the Idumeans, i. 294; so called by way of contempt, 295.

Du-mb devils, not so frequent now as roaring devils, iii. 20.

JMist, the remembrance of man's original; ashes, the representation of his end, i. 57.

Duties, arising from our relation to God as children, iii. 106 ; as creatures, 120 ; from the providence of God, 167.

Dwarf, story of one, ii. 189 ; none in God's family, 401.

Eagle, said that her plumes will not mix with the feathers of other birds, ii. 306 ; her artifice for taking the stag, iii. 56.

Ear, one given us to hear instruction of human knowledge, the other to hearken to the divine precepts, iii. 13 ; an instrument on which Satan delights to play, 15

Earth, a dungeon as compared with heaven, a paradise in comparison of hell, i. 24fi, ii. 131; a mother to weeds, a stepmother to good herbs, 24 ; earth, sea, air, and heaven, all fruitful, 175 ; gives man his original, his harbour, and his sepulchre, 437.

Earthly things, when used as images of heavenly, must fall far short, i. 376.

Earthquake, that at Christ's death extraordinary, ii. Iu3 ; various causas assisrned for them, 438.

Edgar, King, his epitaph, i. 102.

Edomites, their confidence in Mount Seir, i. 301 ; subject to Israelites for 700 years, 313.

Edward 1., disarmed by submission, ii 460; lamented liis father's death more than his son's, iii. 106.

Egyptians, their conceit about growth, decay, and death, i. 258.

EiRRMopoLis, ii. 310, et seq.

Eldred's reign, bad in the beginning, worse in the midst, worst in the end, ii. 349.

Election, the cause, holiness the effect, ii. 544; is not/or goodness, but to goodness, iii. 215.

Elephant, will not drink in clear water, lest he see his own deformity, i 439, ii. 273

Elizabeth, Queen, in her reign of forty-fonr years, did not execute more than thirty papists, and that for treason, i. 304 ; by her feminine graces deserved to be queen of women, by her masculine virtues to be queen of men, il 326 ; under her sistei's tyranny, wished she had been a milkmaid, iii. 130.

• Emmanuel,' and even ' Gabriel,' and ' Michael,' not suitable names to be given to children, iii. 212.

Emotions, temporary religious, may be in the unconverted, ii. 43.

Emperors, at their coronation were requested to choose a stone for their sepulchre, i. 207; before Constantine. almost all died by treason or massacre, after him none but Julian, 250.

Enclosers of commons their sin, i. 76 ; their doom, ii. 34 ; hoi'rilile thieves, 245.

Encouragkmi NT, Faith's, ii. 186, et seq.

End of Thokxs, The, ii. 485, et seq.

Enemies, three common ; the devil, as we are men, the Turk as we are Christians, and the I'ope as we are professors of tlio gospel, i. 162 ; three that astault tlie Christian ; tlie lion (the devil), the leopard (tho world), and the fox (the flesh), iiL 79.

Engrossing, an inviter to the devil's banquet, 1 1G3.

£)igrosser, compared to a serpent for voracity, ii. 31 ; likes none of tlie bible but I'haraoh's dreaui, 32; a worse tliicf than a cut purse, 246.

Knoland's Sicknkss, i. 394, et seq.

England, her privileges, i. 131; her ingratitude, ib. ; has a Rreater number of learned divines than any otiier nation, ib. ; has a girdle of waves and a girdle of wooden walls, yet were weak without the third gii die of God's providence, 30U; her blessings and her sins, 344 ; her special sin, epicurism, 3C9 ; her undeserved privileges, 4U8 ; her wealth lies on citizens' tables, in usurers' coffers, and on courtiers' backs, ii. 23J; long free from war and from persecution, 332 ; never prospered more than when under the curse of the pope, ib.; full of pious and charitable works, 4.')3.

England, Church of, had a true substantial being before the Reformation, i. 410; is a branch of tlie Cath.ilic Church, ii. o2G

English and Spaniards, naval engagement between, ii. 528.

Enmity, cannot be made friendship, though an enemy may be made a friend, ii. 293.

Enquiry, duty of, i. 317 ; where, how, when, to be made, ib.

' Enula Campana,' its virtues, iL 466.

Envy, its evil, i. 192 ; recoils oa it* subjects, 193; madness, 280 ; a consumption, 47S ; does most harm to its subject, 479 ; description of, from Ovid, ib. ; its two main objects are highness and nighness, ii. 4U6.

Envious man, tormented by the praises bestowed on others, i 248.

Epaminondas, wondered that any man in a camp had leisure to be sick, i. 332.

Epicure, epitaph of an, i. 5 ; a madman, 270 ; ex-minatioii of, ib. ; his creed, iO. ; his course of life, 277 ; puts off the thoughts of death and judgment, 309; mode of spendini; his time, 310 ; and his horse compared to the worldling's body and soul, ii. 131.

Epicurism, may attach to the poor as well as the rich, i. 5 ; its prodigality, 191 ; its sinfulness, ib. ; the special sin of England, 3ti9

Epitaph, an epicure's, i. o ; King Ldgai-'s, 102 ; a courtier's, ii 89.

Epiphany, three notable appearances of Christ, said to have be n on the same day of different years, ii. 1; three names given lo it, i6.

Equivocation, the offspring of fraud and malice, 1. 29, ii. 340 ; Satan's, in the temptation of £ve, iii. 180.

Errors, may be in the Church, but not heresy, i. 410; most dangerous kinds of, 411 ; are either beside the foundation, about the loundatioa, or again^t the foundation, ii. J29.

Esau, derivation and meaning of his name, 1. 2 ; his three names, Ksau, KJom, and Seir, ib. ; cunning to take bea.-ts, not to protect himself, 4; his ravenous and intemperate appetite, t6.; his low estimate of his birthright, 5 ; Jews say that he denied the resurrection, ib.; his ingratitude to God, obstinacy, and perfidy, 6 ; a man of the field, i. « , a hunter, not a husbandman, 7; he and Jacob, born together and brought up together, yet different in body, in mind, and in fortune, 8 ; not led by distressed neediness. but by insatiate greediness, to sell his birthright, 22; why called profane ? ib ; why he dwelt on mount Seir, 301 ; he and Jacob, figures of the law and the gospel, iii. 210.

Espousal, of the soul to Chi ist, iii. 210 ; Holy Spirit the iirie.st, faith the wedding-ring, the militant church the temple, an^cels the witnesses, holiness the nuptial garment, the duty of the wi!e to love her husbanJ, the love ot the husband to save his wife, ib.

Eternity, of future punishments, argued, 1. 233, ii. 372 ; alone makes either perfect happiness or perfect misery, i. 139 ; the same ascribed to Jesus as to Jehovah, iii. 1.

Euripides, his estimate of women, ii. 178.

Eve, the manner of her creation, iii 139 ; made by God the mother of all living, made herself the mother of the dying, 186 ; had she eaten alone, would probably have died alone, but when she gave to Adam, killed us all, ib.

Evidences of faiih, conscience, and life, ii. 276

Evil, twofold ; sin and punishment, the former simpliciter, the latter secutidum quid, i. 261, ii. 472, iii. 163; not an essence, but a privation, iii. 118.

Excommunication, greater and less, ii. 180 ; those of Kome for trivial causes, ib.

Excuses eiwily found for disobedience, ii. 92.

Exhortation and instruction should go together, ii. 377.

Experience proves divine providence, iii. 155.

Extortion, compared to the stellion, i. 79 ; men think to make amends by leaving legacies for religious and charitable purposes, ii. 409.

Extravagance, leads to niggardliness, i. 169 ; in dress, &c, a proof of the prevalence of pride, 278; in baniiuets, ii. 229; in dress, houses, in maniages, 230.

Extremity, man's, is God's opportunity, i. 96 ; instances of Jonah, Lazarus, daughter of Jairus, Israelites at the Red Sea, ib.

F.te-Salvk, spiritual, ii. 375, et seq.

Eye, spiritual, its chief diseases, ii. 379; ' cataract,' arising from vain.glory or malice, i& ; 'pearl,' caused by the distracting cares of the world, 3SU ; its chief defects, ib. ; a beast hath one kind (sense), a natural man two (sense and reason), a Christian man three (sense, reason, and faith), 381; their several objects, i6.; un-ruly, but less so than the tongue, iii. 15 ; of the understanding; its eye-Uds are faith and hope, 376.

Fable of the lion and the lamb, 11. 213; of a man who left his estate to an unknown son, iii. 21.

Faction, an inviter to the devil's bunquet, i. 163.

Faith's Enuouragwik.nt, ii. 186, et seq.

Faith, the pipe to convey the waters of life to the soul, i. 269; the Christian's reason, 272; all Mike precious,' though different in degree, 31)2; not to be tried by persons, but persons by laith, 423; our Zodiac, the twelve articles of tho creed being its signs, 435; and hope, the sinews that knit us to Christ our head, ii. 25; true, never alone, 05; strictly speaking, does not save, but apprehends Christ, in whom is assured salvation, 77; a beggarly receiver, charity a rich giver, 171; different kinds of, 2ol; of pagans, reprobates, devils. Christians, '202; not a meritorious cause of salvation, 205 ; and love, like a pair of compasses, 226 ; hope and charity compared to Easter, Whitsuntide, and Christmas, 274; ' the evidence of things not seen,' e.xposition of, 275 ; different kinds of, a faith of saints and a faith of devils, a faith which cannot perish and a faith whicli, in times of temptation, fills away, a faith which the world over-cometh, and a faith which overcometh the world, a dead, idle, and infructuous faith, and a lively, active, working faith, 276; a pipe to convey the blood of Christ to the conscience, t6 ;and hope differ in their order, their office, and their object, 279 ; faith the Christian's logic, hope his rhetoric, i* ; ' faith a doctor In the schools, hope a captain in the wars' (Aug.), ib. ; faith's object is God's truth, hope's, his goodneis, i*.; hiipe and love have some resemblance of the Trinity, inasmuch as faith begetteth hope, and love proceedeth from them both, 280 ; in the godly, they cannot be separated, ib. ; laith keeps thu understanding safe, hope comforts the heart, and charily rectifies the will, 281 ; conveits the plural into the singular (' he gave himself for us,' into 'he gave himseli for me), 430 ; thefounda-

INDEX.

tion of all graces, iii. 79 ; of hope, of charity, of repentance, of temperance, of patience, of all obedience, ib ; historical, temporary, savintr, 8G; takes its first beins in conversion, ib. ; neither a certain science, nor a doubttul opinion, 87 ; and charity, their relative places in justification, sanctifi'cation, and heaven, 90 ; life oi', ■why so called, 91 ; themost potent works, which only Christ doeth, are attributed to it, ib ; best established by the contemplation of God's omnipotence, 260 ; and repentance, the two strong cliampions of the soul, 297. Fall of Mav, iii. 176, etseq. Fall, why God permitted it, iii. 177 ; he ordained it. not "as it was a sin to ruin the creature, but as it was a way to exercise his own justice and mercy, 178 ; of a professor, so much the more discreditable, as he previously had credit, iii. 76. Falsehood, Jacob's, foreseen of God, not allowed,

i. 25 ; different views of, ib. Famine, its horrors, i. 420. Fasting, spiritual, i. 447 ; Popish, a mockery, ii.

368. Fatalism, its unreasonableness, shewn by an

Italian physician, i. 339. Father, God the, first, not in priority of nature, nor of time, nor of honour, but of O' der, iii. 99 ; not Godhead begets Godhead, but person begets person, ib. Fathers, to be heard as witnesses, not as juds^es, i. 288; e.^cellent at soliloquies, meditations, and conferences with their own hearts, iii. 287. Faults of the saints, recorded, not to encourage us

in sin, but to keep us from despair, ii. 95. Fear, of God, compatible with love, i 51; brines in perfect love, which casts it out, 116; the fittest of all affections towards God,* ; evidenced by service, ib. ; of Christ was not for temporal death, but the wrath of God, ii. 426 ; evil, looks to the punishment, good tothepunisher, iii. 257. Feast, four thinss necessary to the perfection of (time, place, company, cheer), i. 244 ; these concur in heaven, ib. ; great, not without great danger, ii. 28. Feeding of Christ's sheep and lambs, to be by example, as well as doctrine and precept, ii. 458. Feeling, even to feel the want of, is a proof of life,

iii. 94. Felicity, three degrees of, i. 355. Fertility, The pkaise of, ii. 447, ei seg. Fever and lethartcy. their difference, i 353. Fiends, two torment men in this world, sin and a

bad conscience, ii 486. Fig-tree cursed, not for having bad fruit on it, but

for having none, ii. 451. Fire of Contention, ii. 145. et seq. Fire, which Christ came to send, is a perpetual combat between sanctity and sin, ii. 147; of the sacrifices, Jews af9rm that in it there always appeared the form of a lion, 434; fines gold, fires stubble, so the word, 474; of God's anger, though blown into a flame by long-continued sin, is put out with a few penitent tears, iii. 271. First hour of the day, first work of our hands, first word of oar lips, should be given to the Lord, ii. 536. Firstborn, a title belonging, by special right, to Christ, ii. 533 ; yet given also to all the faithful, because they are united to him, because they are culled and called out of the world, because they have the privileges of first-born, 564. Fishermen, then- riddle, ii. 218, 232 ; Christ chose for his apostles, that .Satan might scorn to tempt them, 303. Flatterers, compared to spaniel^, i. 8 ; to wasps,

«6. ; are madmen, 284 ; aie thieves, ii. 246. flattery, its sinfulness, i. 188 ; danger of believing, ib. ; rebuked by Canutus, 189; an obstacle to the success of the ministry, 452; compared to stinking breath, 503. . Flesh, seeks to borrow the heart, i. 260 ; cannot be quite shaken otf in the sanctified, 4 ;4 ; will urge its suit till a peremptory denial be given, 405 ; its various insinuations, ib. ; one thing to livem, another thuijj to live to, iii. 89 ; Christ took the

infirmities of our sinful, but not the sinfulness of our infirm, 234. Flight, lawful in persecution, but not when our suffering would benefit the church more than our safety, i. 91. Flint, Thracian, said to burn with water, and be quenched with oil, an emblem of tliose souls who become the worse for all the means used to make them better, ii. 476. Floods in England, a d. 16!3, i. 349. Flower-de-luce, its virtues, ii. 465. Fool and his Sport, 1. 245, et seq. Fools, many and of many kinds, sad and glad, haughty and naughty, i. 248 .: only the resemblances and shadows of men, 274 ; the greatest, who? iii. 45. Foot, carries a man to much wickedness, but is

more controllable than the tongue, iii. 16. Forbearance, of God, not owing to weakness, but

mercy, i. 273. Forbidden things desired, 1. 200. Fore-knowledge and fore-appointment cannot be

severed, iii. 115. Forest of Thorns, the, ii. 471, etseq. 'Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors',

ii 317. Forgiveness promised to all who repent, hut not

repentance to all who sin, ii. 366. Fornication, its pleasure short, its punishment

eternal, i. 493. Forsaking, God's, wherein it consists, i. 230. Fortune-tellers, casters of nativities, &c„ all im-postors and fools, i. 9 ; proved by six arguments, ib. Fox, in a lamb's skin, is the worst of the race,

ii. 235. France, her special sin is lust, i. 368 ; and Encr-land, kings of, said to cure a disease by their toucli, ii. 42 ; prevalence of duelling in, 322. Francis I., his answer to a woman calling for

justice, ii. 288. Frederick, emperor, sued to be made sexton of a church, i. 154 ; held the wrong stirrup for the pope to mount his palfrey, ii. 149. Friars and Jesuits, their contempt of riches hypocritical, 1. 140 ; fable in illustration, ib. Friends, of God, are his servants, ii. 82 ; marks of, 83 ; worldly, their unfaithfulness, 138 ; to be loved in the Lord, enemies/or the Lord, 278 ; story of two faithful, 418. Fruit, which God claims from magistrates, ministers, and private Christians, ii. 174 ; good rewarded, not of merit, but of mercy, 177.

Galatians, main purpose of the Epistle to, ii. 335. Galba had an acute wit in an unseemly body, i. 19. Gallant's Burden, 1. 296, et seq Gallant, rides over men's heads, i. 87 ; compounded

of all sins and corruptions, 321. Garnet, his instigation of the gunpowder plot,

i 193. Gates, of cities, importance of, 1. 39; evils of war

in, ib. ; why ' the city' has on all sides, iii. 76 ;

its gates are adoption and sanctification, 77. GRNER.vnoN OF Sekpents, i. 71, et seq. Germany, her special sin drunkenness, i. 368. Gifts, to be given to God are worship, good works,

and a I'ure heart, ii. 10 ; all must be given by

each, 11 ; God's are free, ii. 417 ; full, 418 ; uni-

versal, ib. ; effectual, ib.; how to be used, 448. Gilead, Mount, its characteristics, i. 377. Gillias, a munificent Roman, 1. 483. Glass, inventor of malleable, rewarded, iii. 57. Glastonbury, abbot of, his dream, ii. 16. Glory and grace, so infallibly connected, that they

often change names, ii. 494 ; worldly, like a

glow-worm, shines at a distance, iii. 192. Gluttony, as bad as drunkenness, i. 320 ; disease

produced by, ii. 28. Goats, the wicked compared to, ii. 652. Goi>'s Anger, iii. 205, et seq. God's Boiintt, i. 137, et seq. God's House, 98, et seq. God, his unity, i. 36; his armies, in heaven, earth

809

and hell, to flight aealnst hid pnemies, 38, 341; FpeakB by bis voice, his works, his Son, his Scriptures, his ministers, his Spirit, 6S ; lintli set apart for himself his people, liis ministers, his tithe;.-, his Sabbaths, his house, 101 ; his house sliould he entered with reverence, with joy, with hMlness, 106 ; reciuires not our wisdom, streoKth, wealtli, or diynity, but our love, 115; poodness and greatness of, the security of our liappiness, 117 ; (?iveswith l)oth hands, 155 ; gives eitlier what we ask or what we ought to ask, i6.; his omniscience, 210, iii. 59 ; his omnipresence, i. 211; in wliat sense he can be said to grieve. 342 ; what we call his wrath is his justice, j'ft ; from small begiiininssraisesmoun-talns of marvels to us and of jiraises to himself, 302 ; a Father in creation, in education, in compassion, in correction, in adoption, 395 ; or singularly, generally, specially, (6. ; is king over nil by his majesty, over the chuich by his grace, ii. 71 ; is near totliose who call upon him, close to those who suffer for liim, in those who love him, 280 ; in no sense the author of error and sin, 336, 475 ; tlie living Gnd, as distinguished from men (magistrates and princes) who are dying gods, from idols, which are dead gods, and from lusts, which are deadly gods, 508 ; an es.sence, spiritual, simple, infinite, most holy, iii. 97; his holiness is himself, his nature, ib.; our father, comforts arising from this relation, 101 ; duties, 106 ; almighty, to believe in, is to believe that he is able to piirdon my sins, to supply my wants, to ea.se my sorrows, il4 ; is to be glorified in all creatures, 120 ; uses sin to effect his own good purposes, 164.

Gods, heathen, could not avenge the injuries done them, i. 214 ; tlieir villanies, ii. 508.

Ood/re;/. his humility, ii. 212.

Godhead of Christ was in the person who suffered, yet did not suffer, in the person who died, but did not die, ii. 427.

Godliness creeps to heaven, but wickedne.?s runs to hell, ii. 252.

Gold is no medicine for the sick, i. 3S0 ; frankincense and myrrh, glosses of the fathers concerning, ii. 8.

Golial/i's sword, why better than any other, iii. 175.

Good Politician Dirf.ctf.T), ii. 24, et seq.

Good, all, eitiier Godor from God, i. 376; infinite, but evil not, 427 ; distinction between doing, and doing well, iii 34 ; natural, created for our use, moral, ordained for our practice, 165.

Good things of the world trouble u.s with fear, evil with sorrow, i. 6 ; deeds do not make amends for sins, ii. 467 ; men have a largcrshare of suffering in this life than reprobates, iii 24 ; things to be taken with much tliankfiilncss, evil with much p.atience, 25 ; man, benefits of partnership with. 4(1 ; life consists in doing good, suffering evil, and continuing to the end, 75.

Goods, so called, not because they make a man good, but because they give him the means of doing good, ii. 463.

Goodness should be loved for its own sake, but doubly when it is directed towards us, i. 115; and greatness of Goil, the security for our ha])pi. ne.ss. 117; iireferable to greatness, 295; and greatness a happy composition, iii. 22^.

Gospel, nothing lost by, which the law afforded, i. 105 ; sour and harsh, like leaven, to the natural soul, yet ' works' it to newness of life, ii. 75; causes of dislike to, 162 ; compared with the law, more gracious and more glorious, 388 ; the power of God unto salvation to the believer, untoconfusionto the libertine, 435 ; must either thoroughly justify or eNtremely condemn, 557 ; 'in itself Idessed and good, though it hardeneth the wicked in the service of Satan, while it heartencth the good for the service of Christ, iii 211.

Government of the world, is by means or without means, iii. 158.

Grace, wliere there Is, all will not be peace, I. 21 ; and gratitude, how related, 134 ; of the gospel.

perverted to llcontlouRnesn, 176 ; doe.i not follow generation, but regeneration. 255 ; book of. a counterpart of the book of election, 295 ; the principal is not temperance, nor humility, nor wisdom, nor patience, nor cliarity, but faith, ii. 201; all comprehended under taith, hope, and love, 281 : the Cliristinn hius need of many graces, to meet many defects, answer many temptation.s, fight with many enemies, 453; distinguished its operating. co-6pei ating. saving, 454 ; validity and strength of, J97 ; is the only gate of glory, iii 81 ; Is not transmitted by generation as sin Is, 196 ; description of, persoui-fled, 203 ; covenant of, 205.

' Grace of Ood,' the herb, said to be a cure for all diseases, ii. 4*i0.

Grave, a down-bcd In comparison of hell, iii. 68.

Greatness wni\ goodness should dwell together, I. 141, 182 ; without goodness, Is despicable, 152 ; to repine at othcr.V is to cavil with God, 153.

Grecian senate, terms on wliich they acknowledged Alexander as a god, i. 198.

Gregory IV., I'ojje, threatened with excommunication by the French bishops, ii. 340.

Gregory,'isAT.vj.mcn, could never read the Lamen-tations with dry eyes, i. 304 ; his church in Constantinople, called the Ucsurrection, ii. 271.

Ginlt and fear, theii' vain shil't.s, iii. 67.

GunpoKJer,\ts ingredients arc in the earth, so the seeds of all vices are in the heart, ii 354

Gunpowder-plot, authors of, compared to Fsau, I. 6; was the development of the persecution in Queen Mary's days, 85 ; fitly puni.shed, 219 ; its defeat an instance of God's judgment against sin in this life, 258 ; its defeat providential, 418 ; if it had succeeded, was to be charged upon the Puritans, ii. 116.

H.M3IT, Thr Sinner's XrocRNivo, i. 49, et seq.

JIagar, pathos of her story, ii 415.

JJalf-heartedness, mars a worldling, and does not make a Christian, ii. 58.

Uall, Dishop, his story of witch-w dves, ii. IIP.

Uohd, thought by Anaxagoras to be the cause n man's superiority to the beasts, i. 114 ; an instrument of sin, i'6. ; not so uncontrollable us the tongue, iii. 16.

Hai-piness of the Cnuncti, Thr, ii. 493. et seq.

Happiness, not perfect unless eternal, i 139.

JJarlot, lier pulpit, I. 159 ; allegorieally put for sin, 161.

Headache and brain-sickners, i. 472

Health, of more value than riches, pleasure, or honour, i. 424 ; means of preserving, 426 ; of the soul, in what it consists, 427 ; those are nearest to, who are most sensible of tickness, ii. 219.

Heart, too narrow to lodge both God and mam-mon, i. 2J9 ; is man's principal vessel, 258 ; the best sacrifice, ib. ; being triangular, cannot be filled with the round world, ib , and 249, 385, iii. 160 ; the special object of Satan's attack, i. 259 ; leads, moves, and directs the whole body and soul, ib. ; budily, its position, ib. ; sought to be begged by the poi)e, bought by the devil, borrowed by the flesh, and st(den by the world, ib ; only -safe in (iod's keeping, 2C1 ; its corrup. tion, whence ? 262 ; ingratitude of filling it with evil, ib. ; importance of managing, 205 ; influence over the .senses, ib ; neither gnod nor inclining to goodness, but evil and full of evil, 206 ; small, but contains much, ib. ; different characters of; some like nettles, others like briars, 348 ; good man's compared to the earth for Inimility.iiatience, constancy, charity, riche-s fertility, 437 ; is either a chapel for Jesus or a den for devils, ii. 53 ; description of the unre-generate, as the devil's house, 54 ; room in it for many sins, 64 ; an honest, in a minister, more important than gifts, 250 ; uncentredfrom Christ Is dead, 258 ; a stony, is cold, heavy, liard, senseless, ib. ; no part of man can sin without It, It can sin without all the rest, 261 ; cannot be quiet till it rest in God, 385; God

INDEX.

loves a tnie, a clean, an honest, a liumble, yea, and a broken, iii. 299. Heart's-ease' its excellence, li. 462. Heart wort,' its virtues, ii. 466. Heaven, Physic from, i 368, et segr. Hravejj and Earth Kecoxcilkd, i. 448, et seq. Heaven make Sure, i. 60, et seq. Hkavkn-Gate, iii. 74, ei seq. Ideaven, a feast, i. 244 ; is the Christian's now tenore juris, though not jure tenoris, ii. 23; for joys, hell for pains, earth ior labours. 176, and iii. 134; a high city, yet hath a low gate, ii. 321 ; no coming to it with dry eyes, 373 ; its gates cannot be opened by the force of good ■works, but by tlie key of faith, 410 ; ordinarily no man conies to it dry-shod, iii. 41; three; the atmospheric, 125 ; causes of admiration and praise in it, ih. ; the starry, its height, hugeness, glory, 126; the highest, indescribable, 129 ; called eternal, not because it had no beginning, but because it shall have no end, ib. ; better to he out of, with Christ, than in without Christ, 233; the believer".s, is wherever he believes, 238. Heirs, uncertainty of, ii. 136 Udl, those who are in sin have no power of themselves to stop short of, i. 238 ; its sufferings, ib.; its locality unknown, 239 ; reprobates have one on earth, ib ; its torments, 241 ; a fearful place, ii. 372; its terrors perfected by their eternity, ib. ; full of good purposes, heaven of good works, 489 ; its torments universal and eternal, 491 ; in it are all soitows without any comforts ; in heaven all comforts without any sorrows ; on earth good and bad, sweet and sour, miseries and mercies, sorrows and comforts, are blended together, iii. 292. Eelps to walls on the slippery glass of the woiid, circumspect eyes, sober feet, and a good staff, iii. 56. Eenry II, King, his answer to the monks of Winchester, ii. 112. Henry III., King, his exposure of a pretended

miracle, ii. 160. Eenry IV., King of France,' magnified his ofHce,'

ii. 297. Eenry VIII., King, story of his picture, i. 375. Henry tlie Dane, a popish saint; his hare-brained

devotion, ii. 452. Herbs, Contempl \tion of the, ii. 457, et seq. Herbal, A Divine, ii. 4-33, et seq. liemiles, his ashes will not fill a pitcher, iii. 70. Eeresy intoxicates the brain, i. 178 ; is what is opposite to the truth, while error is what is different from the truth, 410 ; definition of, ii. 160 ; is more than errof, 343 ; why God permits it. ib. ; causes of, discontent, pride, and hypocrisy, ib. ; its growth, 344 ; a man may perish in the fair-coloured waters of, as well as in the mud of iniquity, iii 49 Heretics should be restrained, excommunicated,

bound, banished, but not put to death, ii. £28. Sermit, story of one who attempted to bring about a reconciliation between God and the devil, i. 306, ii. 295 ; library of one, 3S3 ; legend ot one who heard all the devils of hell wearing themselves out in efforts to lift a feather, 441. Eerod, his hvpocrisy, ii. 18 ; his extreme sottish-

ness, 19 ; like the devil, 21.

Eerods, the three, all dissemblers, all cruel, ii. 21.

Eildehrand, Pope, excommunicated Henry, and

conferred the empire upon Rodolph, ii. 15'2 ; his

chair broke down under him, 153; predicted

Henry's death within a year, and hired a man

to kill him, 159.

Histories, by means of, Christ taught mysteries,

i. &34. Eoliness, must be ad totum, per tatum, de toto, ii.

544. Holt Choice, The, ii. 254, e/ seq. Holy place, prefiirured the communion of the mill. tant church upon earth, separated from the world, ii. 297 , of holies, prefigured the glorious kingdom of heaven, ib. 'Holy thistle,' its virtues, ii. 467.

Honesty and discretion more important to a minister than Latin or learning, ii. 271. HoNOLR, The Soldier's, i. 35, et seq. Honour, simply, is from God, i. 150 ; yet not from him if he give it not, but men usurp it, ib. ; wherein it consists, 151 ; not in blood, but in blood and virtue meeting together, ib. ; rules regarding, ib. ; useless without health, 425 ; vain, the idol of fools, ii. 3ul; worldly, like a peal rung on bells, iii. 3. Eope, the sweetest friend of the distressed soul, ii. 277 ; of those who live wickedly, presumptuous and illusive, ib. Eorns of the altar, represented the merits of Christ,

i. 126. Horse, fable of his subjection to man, i. 202. Eortensius never was reconciled to his mother,

for they never quarrelled, ii. 319. Eospitality, decay of, i. 28 ; should be exercised by ministers, 461 ; made impossible by impropriation, 462. Hounds, wherewith oppressors hunt (beagles, setters, spaniels, mastiffs, ban-dogs, blood-hounds), i. 15. House, God's, i. 98, et seq.

X/oi«e, God hath had in all ages, i. 101 ; David's

first care to visit it, 102; the meeting-place

of the saints, ii. 390 ; man's earthly and heavenly,

iii. 130.

Houses, cause of the ruin of many great ones, i.

12. Human inventions in God's worship displeasing

to him, ii. 299. Humanity of Christ, real, ii. 210 ; vertis homo, though not merus homo, 212 ; magnified by the divinity, but the divinity nothing altered by, iii. 258. Humiliation, in the lowest depths of, Christ was not without evident testimony of his divine power, ii. 98 ; degrees of, iii 228. Humility, the road to honour, i 51 ; the image of Christ, as pride is of the devil, 277 ; and glory, constantly united in Christ, ii. 7 ; the gentleman-usher to glory, 189 ; a postern gate ot the city of peace, 321 ; true higli-miiidedness, 460. Hunger personified, i. 420. Hunting, Politic, i. 1, et seq. Hunting, lawful and laudable, i. 2 , for recreation and for benefit, ib ; of the poor by oppressors, 13 ; by force and fraud, 14. Husband and wife are one flesh though separated, so Christ and the believer are one spirit, though the one be in heaven and the other on the earth, iii. 89. ' Hyacinth,' its virtues, ii, 466. Hypocrisy, compared to the putrid fever, i. 494; is a garnishing of the devil's house, ii. 56 ; not so common in the country as in London, 234 ; all have more or less, but it has some, :j30 ; the worst of sins, in six respects, ib. Hypocrite, compared to the crocodile, i. 78; a madman, 279 ; the worst of all men, 280 ; incurs the world's displeasure by making a show of religion, and God's by making but a sliow, i6.; has the name of Christian to his condemnation, not to his comfort, ii. 367 ; loses both earth and heaven, 5U5 ; his home is tlie city of weeping and gnashing of teeth, t6. 'Hyssop,' (humility), its virtues, ii. 460.

' I serve,' the scutcheon of every son of God, ii. 84.

Idi.m. Semper, iii. 1, etseq.

Idleness, evils of, i 42 ; its sinfulness, 192 ; a form of theft, ib. ; leads to many sins, ib.; is madness, 283; is an obstacle to the success of the ministry, 453; and lethargy compared, 480; cure for, 481; is aeainst the law of nature and of the Bible, ii. 87 ; exposes men to Satan's temptations, 196 ; is enough to condemn, without evil doing, 450; the eldest daughter of, is to do nothing, the next to do something to no purpose, ib.

Idlers, laws against, not sufficiently enforced, ii. 233.

Idolatry, of the TsrncUtcs, its aggravations, i. 36 ; is worse tlian adultery, ii. 226 ; externr.l and tn. ternal, 285 ; all proi.e to, by nature, 291 ; tlie Romanists Rullty of, ib. ; the worst is a superstitious worship of ourselves, 307 ; is treason nenlnfit God, ib. Idumea, doomed to be subject to Israel, i. 9 ; subdued by David, ib. ; callnd Dumali.in contempt, 295. Jgnorance, why compared to darkness, 1.210 ; lays open to temptation, 234: popish policy rcRnrd-inp, ib.; five kinds of, ib.; not the mother of devotion, 272 ; of self, the cause of pride, 277 ; a Bore sickness tn a church, 411 ; may lessen the puilt of a sin, but dues not make it no sin, ii. 865 ; itself sinful, ib ; the mother, not of devo. lion, but of falsehood and doubt, 377 ; In a private person is weakness, in a judRe, wickedness, bA9 ; involuntary, excuses a tanto, sed non a toto, 658 ; humble, better than proud knowledKe, iii. 222. /maffcof God.in unfallen man, consisted in bright-ness of the mind, riKlitiicss of tiic heart, and just Kovernance of the affections, i. 427; in what sense man was made in, iii. 132 Images, of God, are absurd, as well as impiou.s, ii. 290 ; of Christ cannot be made without leaving out the chief part of him, liis divinity, 291. Image.worshifpers, laws against, should be more

vigorously enforced, ii. 227. Imagination, Romish system devised to please,

iii. 85. Imitation of Christ, to be not of his miracles, but of his moral*, - '"S , not of his power, majesty, wisdom, or miracles, but of his love, grace, mercy, goodness, 414. Immorality, not chargeable on the doctrine of

justification by faith, ii. 342 Impatient man, a madman, i. 286 ; wants either

wisdom nr obedier.cc, iii 29. Impenitency. a judicial infliction, i. 438. Impiety, impurity, and impenitency, follow each

on tlie heels of the other, i. 439. Impropriators and tithc-withholders, their dan-ger, i. 128 ; tlieir guilt, 144 ; bring judgments on the land, 179 ; enclosers, and engrossers shall fall into the hands of the worst devils, 22u ; are wolves, ii. 115 ; compel the clergy to live on pulse and water-gruel, 120; have reduced the ministry to beggary, 228 ; pray in the temple, and prey on the temple, 288; are supported by corrupt advocates, 329; their arguments in defence of their conduct answered, 362 ; have not been benefited by their spoliations, 507; their excu-ses frivolous, 557. Incarnation of Christ, iii. 233; its manner, 235. Inconsistency compared to the staggers, i. 474; description of, ib. ; dotage is a judicial infliction for, 476 ; cure of, i6. Inconstancy, evils of. i. 127. Indecision, evils of, ii. 369. Indians would not go to heaven if the Spaniards

were to be there, i. 404. Indulgences, popish, their evils, i. 204. Industry, good for health, i. 427. Infallibility belongs only to God and his word, i. 411; to claim it for a church or a man is itself an extreme error, ib. ; papal, controverted, ii. 527. Infidelity, the first sin of man, iii. 188; some

sparks of it are In every heart, 259. Informers and talebearers are the devil's bellows

to blow tl'.e fire of contention, ii. 165. Ingo, king of the Pravcs, set his poor fellow-Christians above his heathen nobles, iii. 247. /nj7ra<i7urfe, a monstrous thing, i. 129; fable respecting, t6 ; condemned liy the devil himself, 130 ; story or allegory concerning, 132 ; is madness, 285 ; is evil to others, worse to ourselves, ii. 31 ; to God, its heinousness, 475. Inheritance is not of merit, but of birth, ii. 560. Iniquity, its shamclessness, i 212 Injustice of the defrander, the usurer, the impropriator, the engrosser, ii. 571. Inr.ccenc» is free ia servitude, safe in danger, Joy-

ful in bonds, il. 34; picture nf, n» a f.ilr virgin, ib ; one of the gates of the city of peace. 315 ; state of, did not exempt from diligence, iii. 134.

Instruction, the foundation of exhortation, ii.377.

Instrument, sinning, moved by God, but not to the sin. iii. 104.

Intemperance, a filthy and foolish sin, i. 6; the first dish at the devil's banquet, 1' 7.

Intentions to obey are not olicdience, ii. 97; are inauspicious and without speed, if their begin-ing be not from (Jod, 126.

Interruption of sin is not conversion, ii, 44.

Iniiters, many spoken of in the Hible.i. 160 ; some good, someindiiTerent, some bad, ib. ; the harlot the worst of all, 161.

Irresolution and unsteadiness are hateful, and opposite to Christ, iii 4.

frrerercnee is robbery, i. 182.

Irritable men compared to the dart (a kind of serpent), i 77.

Isaac, in preferring Esau, went against God's declaration to him, i. 23.

Israel, God's care of, i. 105 ; his blessings crowned by giving them the temple, ib. ; England com-pared to, in respect of privileges, 350 ; her sin a marvel, 400; did the people of, offer manna at Baal.Peor? ii. 357 ; their perverseness, iii. 169 ; never fared so well as when they were at God's immediate finding, 170.

Italy, her dissoluteness, L 185 ; her special sin Is poisoning, 368.

Jacob and Esau, though born and brought up to-getlier, yet different In body, in mind, and in fortune, i. 8 ; did not steal Esau's birthright, 19 ; having the birthright, was entitled to the blessing, i6. ; vindicated in his dealings with Esau 20 ; his struggling with his brother in his mother's womb typical, ib. ; Origen's interpretation of, 21 ; and Esau allegorised, ib. ; knew from his mother that the birthright was his by appointment of God, 22 ; his falsehood cannot be justified, yet in general he is an example of plain dealinK, 25 ; his conduct towards Laban unexceptionable, 26; never had so sweet a night's rest as when his pillow was a hard stone, iii. 295

James, tradition concerning his martyrdom, i. 93.

James I , King, his frustration of the gunpowder plot, i. 7 ; a true 'defender of the faith," 469 ; meant for some extraordinary benefit and matchless good to the Christian world, ii. 308 ; thanks for his preservation (from the Gowrie CDns])iracv, 5th Aug. 160(1), ib. ; like a second Augustus', hath shut the temple of James, 326 ; none but he could have worthily succeeded Elizabeth, ib.

Jehovah, the name by which God was known to Israel from the first mission of Sloses to them, iii 1.

Jeroboam, his argument for his idols (Josephus), ii. 287 ; his rebellion was of God In so far as it was a punishment of Kchoboam's sin, from himself as it was sin, iii. 164.

Jerusalem, called the holy city after she had be-come a siik of iniquity, ii. 107 ; a type of the catholic Church in election, collection, dilec tion, 511.

Jesuits, ride over men's heads, i. 87 ; thirst after royal blood, ib. ; like tobacco, once rare, now everywhere, 88 ; and the devil, scarcely distinguishable, 222 ; compared to owls, ii. 118 ; turn all their relieion intostatism (politic-), yea, into atheism, 327 ; their malice shewn in the gunpowder pint, 411 ; call secular priests asses, iii. 30 ; in perverting families, begin with the V omen, 179 ; have no right to their name, 214.

Jesus, his compassion, i. 342 ; often repre-sented as weeping, never as laughing, 352, 364 ; the best suitor of the soul, 406 ; his beauty, ib. ; the jointure which he off. rs, i6. ; the centre of the Scriptures, ii. 2 ; and of our rest and peace, i6.; 'Jesus' a proper name, 'Christ' an appellation, iiL 1; the sweetest of all his names, 2 ; conceits

of the schoolmen upon, 211 ; discourse upon, •^12.

Jewel, Bishop, his comfort to his friends in banishment, ii. 115 ; was the jewel of bishops, 266.

Jewish tradition, thiit the places wiiere Cain and Abel sacrificed, where Noali came out of ihe ark, where Abraham offered Isaac, where David bousht Araunali's threshing-floor, and where Solomon built his temple, were one and the same, ii. 510.

Jews, typified by Esau's loss of the birthrisrht, 1. 9 ; story of one securins a debt by the forfeit of a pound of flesh [.Shakespeare's .S'Av/ocfc—En.], i. 261, ii. 488 ; according; to Josephus, were the best soldiers in the world for the union of strength and stratagem, i. 369; persecuted Christ on earth, the papists persecute him in heaven, 416 ; described in the account of the ejected devil returning, ii. 36 ; were servants, we are sons ; they hud priests, we are priests, 101 ; hardness of their hearts, 105.

Joab and Job, examples of reverse of fortune, i. 314.

Job, his sufferings caused by the devil in malice, the Sabeans in avarice, God in love, 1. 82.

John in his Gospel teaches especially faith, in his Epistles love, in his Hevelation hope, iii. 38.

John the Baptist, differences between him and Christ, iii. 240.

John, surnamed Eleemosynarius, his extraordinary bounty, 1. 92.

John, patriarch of Alexandria, from being covetous, became generous, and found himself the richer, i. 483.

Jordan, drying of, by Joshua, a sign to the heathen, iii. 159.

Joseph began with iron fetters, ended with golden chains, i. 361.

Joy, compatible with true religion, i. 106; wicked, ends with wretched sorrow, 216.

Judas, his sin in despairing of God's mercy as gre-it as in betraying his Lord, i. 440 ; difference between him and the other disciples, ii. 222 ; influence of his example upon them, 223; the quintessence of all wicked men, 234 ; vile-ness of his hypocrisy in three respects, 235 ; either he played the pope, or the pope plays Judas, 241.

Judge, qualifications of, sharpness of apprehension, boldness of courage, honesty of conscience, impartial justice, equity of sentence, ii. 549.

Judgment, day of, its strictness, i. 196 ; God's and man's do not concur, ii. 188, 2,i6 ; future, proved from the justice and the goodness of God, u4G ; the action of the whole Trinity, but the execution of it belongs to the Son, 547.

Judgments of God in the early days of tlie world were more outward, now more inward and spiritual, i. 298 ; on others should be warnings to us, ii. 127; God's, not always manifest, but always just, 182; like thunder, to arouse the secure, 1P5 ; temporal, are not always inflicted for sin, 371.

Julian, his cruellest persecution was with favours, i. 418 ; having a bull on his coin, gave occasion to the saying that he had gored the world to death, ii. 267.

Just, how made perfect? ii. 496.

Justice, and mercy, God's two daughters, allegory concerning, i. H7 ; of God in leaving men to sin as a punishment of their sins, 438; must not be in small things alone, nor in great things alone, ii. 570

Justification, does not admit of degrees, 1. 362, 671; and perfecting, both woi ks of Christ, 571 ; is without our merit, not without our will and our act, ii. 454 ; is not dependent on the per-fection of our faith, but of that which is the object of our faith, iii. 95.

Keys, two for the government of the Church ; of

knowledge and of power, ii. 206. Kindness, Christ's, towards us, consisting in cor-

recting our errors, and reaching forth to ua his

ample mercies, ii.417 ; should be liberal, though wealth be stinted. 418.

Kings, nine in England have begun their glory in a throne and ended it in a cell, i. 150 ; a heathen king's plan tor the abolition of human saeri-fice, ii. 35 ; three ways of choosing, 326 ; are little gods, as God is a great King, ib. ; govern all their subjects, but bestow their most princely favours on their servants who wait in their courts, iii. 7; the glory of, to be kings of hearts, 223.

Kingdom of heaven taken in three senses, for glory, for grace, and for the gospel, ii. 71.

Kingly office of Christ and of Christians, iii 222.

Kisses of sin are fatal, i. 226.

Knighthood only conferred upon men kneeling, it. 253.

Knowledge, of ourselves taught by affliction, of God by deliverance, i. 98 ; called by Aristotle the eye of the soul, 236 ; its two pillars, learning and discretion, ib ; which putTeth up is not the true knowledge of God, 412; importance of Its being united with zeal, ii. 37ii; rectifies con. science, and conscience perfects it, 377 ; all human, much more all divine, is derived from God, 378 ; of God is by his works, his word, and his Spirit, 383 ; in what sense it shall vanish away, 397 ; of God is only through Christ, of Christ is only through the gospel, ib. ; superiority of future to present, in five particulars, 398 ; to conceal is to cancel, 448 ; of God, evil of being without, iii. 93.

Labour, more required in the devil's service than in God's, ii. 450, iii. 75.

Lacedemonians held it base for others to flee, for themselves even to hesitate, ii. Ill; their answer to Philip, 126.

Ladders, two whereby men climb to heaven, i. 213 ; Romish representati n of two, with Christ at the head of one, Mary of the other, makes her the Saviour rather than liira, ii. 398.

Ladies, paintei'', are but walking and speaking pictures, iii. 54.

Lancashire justice, his witty decision, ii. 307, iii. 45.

Landlords, oppressive, compared to Rehoboam, i. 74 ; ride over men's heads, 86 ; in the hands of the gripulous the hire of the oppressed labourer cries to God, 213 ; rack-renting, are thieves, ii. 245; oppressive, are men-eaters, iii. 51 ; tlie extravagance of London leads to their oppression, ib.

Languages, three ; of heaven, spoken by saints ; of earth, by worldlings; of hell, by the children of the devil, iii. 20.

Lasciviousness, so prevalent that it has lost the name of a sin, i. 279

Law is light, but insufficient to light us to hoaven, i. 119 ; believers dead not only to the ceremonial, but also to the moral, :;29 ; should be general, good, possible, ii. 312 ; of pe.ace fulfils these requirements, ib. ; of God given to Moses in ten commandments, reduced by Christ to two, stated by Paul in one word, ' Lovi-,' ii. 406 ; commands only love, condemns only lust, ib. and 504 ; gives commandment, but not amendment ; gospel brings salvation to our hearts, and our hearts to salvation, 574 ; those who in life give no obedience to, shall in death have no benefit from the gospel, iii. 66 ; in what sense it made nothing perfect, 203 ; giving of it terrible, requiring of it more so, ib.

Lawsuits, an enemy to peace, ii. 322 ; not in eveiy case wrong, 324.

Lawyers, thriving, while ministers are starving, a proof that men care more for their property than their souls, i. 330 ; physicians, and divines contrasted, 455 ; who take fees on both sides, are thieves, ii. 243 ; corrupt and conscienceless, are sharp and wounding brambles, 482.

Lazarus, poor and good, is carried to the bosom of rich and good Abraham, i. 141, ii. 231.

Learning, profane, its use, i. 234 ; without a head.

becanse Icnornnt of God, 237 ; useful to a minister, 3«G, 460, ii. 113.

I-KAVBs, THE, ii. 69, et seq.

Lkavkn, The Bad, ii. 335, et seq.

Leaivn, bad, four kinds of, mentioned in the New Te^ament, ii. 337.

J^nglh of days, means eternal life, i. 138 ; days lor litrlit, long for continuance, ib.

Lenity, Injudicious, encourages crime, ii. 48.

Leo X., Pope, liis blasplicniy, i. 178.

Leprosy, compared with sin, in seven particulars, i 442 ; hard to endure, and hard to cure, ii. 186.

Lethargy, worse than drunkenness, ii. 66.

Liars, are madmen, i. 284.

Libertines, their cuilt and responsibility, i. 310 ; brinj; many ancient families to ruin, 311 ; their bla.sphemy in cliarginK tlieirsins on God, ii. 475.

Lies, for God's glory, not tlie le.ss sinful, ii. 298.

Life of men fourfold, natural, civil, spiritual, eternal, i. 98 ; length of, a great blessing, lu6 ; begins and ends with sorrow, first voice a cry, last a groan, 352; vita bona naturce, melior gratice, optima gloriw, 400; degrees of, 442 ; a day, divided into morning, noon, and evening, ii.'89 ; and motion are of God, the pravity and corruption of these are none of his, 336 ; a true Christian's, like a day of three meals, each of tliem of two courses, iii. 23 ; of the best is either unprofitable or damnable, 31; shortness of, apologue concern'ng, 145.

Light, God is, glorious, clear, pood, coistant, spreading, i. 118 ; of the gospel is to be rejjiced in, 119 ; duties derived from this view, ib. ; may be more in some reprobates than in some sanctified souls, but not so good, ii. 43 ; that was before tlie sun, various opinions regarding, iii. 128.

Lily, an emblem of purity, ii. 465.

Lion, said to sleep with one eye open, the hare with both, but the worldling, even when awake, has both the eyes of his soul shut.ii. 193.

Lips, to open wlien they should .«peak, and to .shut when tliey should not speak, are both the work of God, iii 18.

Litigious men. compared to the salamander, i. 77.

Litigiousness, folly of, ii. 323, 449.

' Liver-wort,' its virtues, ii. 464.

London, the centre wliere all sins meet, i. .318; the good in it exceeding good, the evil immeasurably evil, ib.\ filled with 'nothing-doers,' ii. 182 ; citizens of, their virtues, 239 ; has no parallel under the sun, 254 ; richer in her spiritual provision than any other city in the world, 271 ; occupies the best situation in England, 330 ; her virtues and defects, 331 ; if the world be a ring, London is the diamond of it, 332.

Long-suffering of God, a hana held out to lead us to repentance, ii 488.

Lordship of Christ, demands of us reverence and obedience, iii. 229.

Lost akk Found, ii. 209, et seq

Lost, men are, in many ways, found in one only, ii 220.

Love's Copt, ii. 413, et seq.

Love, of God, includes fear of offending him, i 51 ; the only quality in which we can return God like for like, 116 ; shewn by deeds of piety, ib.; cannot be altogether without fear, i6. ; to Christ is the first gualificalion for the ministry, 384 ; God's, is a substance, ours only an accident, 408 ; its proper and immediate object is God, the subordinate is man, ii. 278 ; ' the shortest and the longest divinity' (Luther), ib.; alone eternal, 282 ; is soft and gentle, (aith austere and courageous, 405 ; the ground of a.ssurance, 412; is to be OS Christ loved us, in quality, not equality, in manner, not in measure, 413 ; of Christ was holy, 415; hearty, t6.; kind, 417 ; constant, 418 ; is to be to others because God loves us, because God loves them, and especially to those who love God, because they love him, 420 ; brought God down from heaven to earth, and lifts man ft-om earth to heaven, iii. 80 ; the cause of God's la within himself, 91 ; is ceaseless, and is the cause of all causes, 209.

Loves, good or bad, make Kood or bad lives, ii. 505.

lowly, are the objects of persecution, i. 83.

Lukewarmncss, condemned, i. 127.

Lust, \\ke charity, begins at home, i. 52 ; viclons,

are the devil's shadows and representations, ii.

64 ; of the flesh, of the eye. and the pride of life,

are the world's trinity, 219; a damnable error

to cull it love, 411. Lnsl/idness, is piadtiess, i. 278; compared to 1d-

flanimation of the reins, 492. LvcANTiiROPT, ii. 109, el seq.

ifadmen. think all mad but themselves, i. 291.

Madness, two kinds of, corporal and spiritual, i. 269 ; spiritual is a depravation of the understanding, the reason, and the will, 270 ; consists in ignorance, unfaithfulness, andrel'ractory desires, 271 ; its great cause is ignorance of God, 272 ; and anger eomiiarcd, 476.

ilagi, not astrologers, ii. 4 ; generally supposed to have come from Persia, ib. ; their obedience and faith, ib. ; did not worship the virgin, 7 ; for their gold, frankincense, and myrrh, received wisdom, devotion, cliaiity, 13 ; .supposed to have been kings or great men, 14

Magistrates, their duty to jmnish vagrants, un-thrilt.s drunliards, &c., i. 322 ; compared to phy-sicians, 445 ; should rejiicss dciiojiulators, 446 ; and ]iapists, ib.; who suffer popularity, partiality, or passion to overrule their judgments, are thieves, ii. 242 ; must not only be clear of the fault, but above the suspicion, of bnbery, 259 ; must learn wisdom, patience, courage, hone-sty, ib. ; benefit of good ones, 262; must be obeyed actively when they command well, passively when ill, 508.

Maiestv im Misery, ii 98. et seq.

' Make us gods,' every word wicked, absurd, senseless, ii 292.

Malcontents, a contemptible generation of thorns, ii. 483.

Malice, leads to the mis-spending of money, i. 149 ; will not spare friends to wreak its vengeance on foes, 192.

Man's Comfort, iii. 280, et seq

Man's Si.kd-Time and Hakvest, ii. 360, et seq.

Man, the greatest enemy of man, i. 83; his dignity, 184 ; a little world, his soul resembling heaven, his heal t earth, his liver the sea, his brain the sun, and his senses the stars, 258, iii. 131 ; compared to a fort, ii. 38 ; a fitter preacher of the gospel than an angel, or one risen from the dead, 78 ; purposeth, God di.sposeth, 125 ; haa in his composition a shadow of the Trinity, soul, body, and spirit, 130 ; judgeth the heart by the works, God the works by the heart, 262; is as Adam, a good conscience his paradise, lust the forbidden fruit, 350 ; placed midway between the bodiless spirits above and the mindless bodies below him, 384 ; shares beingwith stones, life with plants, sense with beasts, iind understanding with angels, 436, iii. 132 ; why has he two eyes, two ears, two hands, two feet, and but one tongue? 13; by nature not half dead, but quite dead in trespasses and sins, 94 ; his creation not more difficult but more noble than of the other cicatures, 131 ; in what respects made in the image of God, 132 ; the figure and abstract of heaven and earth, 141 ; in his pride would make himself like God. in his folly would would make God like himself, 152 ; a woild iu miniature, 282 ; but a world with a soul, ib.

Man, Isle of, dispute whether it belonged to Scotland or Ireland, how determined, i. 325, ii. 33.

Mansions, in our Father's house are permanent (a manenio), many, enow for all, in the Father's house, in Christ's Father's house, ii. 498.

Marcelline, Pope, accused of idolatiy, his defence, ii. 356.

Marcion, his blaypheray, iii. 112.

■ Maria,' conceits of the monks and friars on the name, iii. 211.

Marriage, may only be performed by a minister, i. 454 ; with irreligious, danger of, ii. 290 ; lion-oui-uble, and safe, iii. 139 ; of Christ to humao

INDEX.

nature, 209 ; of Mary to Joseph after the conception of Christ, it! twofoUl purpose, 253. Martin, St, his answer to the devil, iii. 94. Martyrs, their aslios iiave l>reJ Cliristian.s i. 360 ; their blood has been tlie seed of tlie church, ii. 117 ; Cliristians wont to celebrate their funerals, as properly their birthdays, 131. Martunlom, not the death, but the cause, Rives tlie honour of, iii. 27 ; does not depend on what we sufl'er, but why, 283. Mary Masdalene sent as an apostle to the apostles.

iii. 218. Mary, Virgin, more blessed in receiving the faith, than in conceiving the flesh of Christ, i. 336 ; not wor-shipped by the .MaRi, ii. 7 ; would rather be subjected to any indignity and injury than set in rivalry with Christ (Calvin), 291, iii. 345 ; story of her imatje that curtseyed, il. 350 ; Ko-nianists attribute to her the prerogative of Christ, 570 ; the high honour vouchsafed to her, iii. 242 ; praying to her argued against, 245. Mary, Queen, in five years burnt 300 Prote.stants for religion, Elizabeth in forty-four years scarce executed thirty papists, and that for treason, i. 304. Mass, mummeries in the celebration of, i. 363; ia idolatrous, ii. 99; priest professes to make God, iii. 122. Mayors. Lord, of London, their many worthy acts,

ii 263 Meal must be fit for the leaven to work on, ii. 79. Means, all derive their efficacy from God, iii. 154; providence not to be tied to, 168; must be used, but not tiusted to, 171. Measures of meal, three, various interpretations of, il. 79 ; of glory shall be perfect in all the saints, but not equal in all, 403. Mediator, Christ the only, ii. 573 ; necessity of liis incarnation for this end, i6 ; distinctions of the Romanists untenable, 575. MEurrATioNS upon the Ckeeii, iii 85, et seq. Meditation shews our wants, prayer procures supply, i. 413 ; reduces Christianity to practice, ii. 508 ; on the works of God, duty of, iii 121. Mketing of the Saint.s, ii 388, et seq. Meeting of filends ever comfortable, ii. 390; of saints threefold, in this life, after death, at the last day, ib. Members of the body, if they serve not God in action, shall serve him in suffering, i. 219. Men fitted to the times in whicli they live, ii.

267. J/eiuZ('ca?!<orders, professing poverty, soon engross

the riches of a country, i. 388. Menecrates the physician, how served by Diony-

sius, i. 282 ; his arrogance, 381. Menelaus, an Armenian archer, could shoot three

arrows at once, ii. 489. Merchant, story of one who vowed to Jupiter in a

atorm, i. 112. Mercy, God'.s, both manifold and manifest, i. 95; consists in removing evil and bestowing good, OG ; no reason lor sinning, ii. 36i;; the main point that Christ will scan at the last day, 561 ; Christ's, shall be perfected in us, but never ended, iii. 2. Mercies, general, require continual thanks, new favours, new praises, i. 98 ; are above menaces, ii 224. Merits, man's, are God's mercies, i. 156 ; not any in us, but mere mercy in him, moved Christ to undertake for us, ii. 41 ; wc have neither of congruity to bring the gospel to us, nor of con-dignity to keep it, 441. Messenger, a, should have celerity, sincerity, constancy, ii. 111. Mexico, king of, his coronation oath, ii. 263. Michad and the dragon cannot agree in one heaven, nor the ark and Dagon in one house, nor Jacob and Ksau in one womb, nor John and Cerinthus in one bath, nor the clean and the leprous in one camp, nor God and Jlammon in o:ie heart, nor religion and superstition in one kingdom, nor God and idols in one temple, ii. 294; is Christ, 515,

MUo, his story illustrates the power of sinful habits,!. 354, iii. 69.

Mrnd, enlightenment of, is not conversion, ii. 43.

Ministers, their responsibility, i. 297 ; many faithful in England, ib.; but some worldly, ambitious, and covetous, ib. ; office of, is the work of a watchman, 305; scorned and ridiculed by the profane, 307 ; their poition a goat's fleece, contempt and scom, 330 ; their grief for the In.s.s of boul.?, 345; their ofiice that of mourners, 365 ; ai'e physicians under the great Physician, 378 ; have no power in themselves to heal, 380 ; must study the dispositions of their hearers, 382 ; baseness of those who flatter their hearers, 385; some neither preach well nor live well, some preach well but live ill, some preach ill, but live without any notorious scandal, some both preach and live well, 390 ; are now free from outward persecution, but are exposed to slander, 391; have all the same office, but different degrees of honour. 414; compared to a logical copulative, bringing together men and righteousness, 448 ; five obstacles to their suc-ces.s, 452; powerful with, but powerless without, the holy Spirit, 454 ; compared to stars in four respects, 455 ; their words should be like thunder, their lives like lightning, 462: their insufficiency may be a plague for the people's sins, ib. ; men neglect or ridicule in health, but send for in sickness, 464 ; the eminence of their glory, 470 ; their weakness does not derogate from the powerful operation of the word in the hearts of God's chosen, ii. 77 ; need meditation and reading, 78 ; their warrant is piety and a call, 112; honourableness of their otBce, IGS ; evil of their being jealous of each other's gifts, 189 ; need boldness to cope with the boldness of sin, 224; though they may not rule, must instruct those who do rule, 255 ; office of, why called orders, 266 ; honour and responsibility of, 271 ; a wicked one the worst creature on God's earth, 289 ; office to last till the end of the world, 388 ; should be held in honour, notwithstanding their imperfections, iii. 211; are either made idols, as by papists and sectarians, or cyphers, 247.

Miracles, four were performed by Clnist on the cross, ii. 98; their purposes, 107 ; of grace, God still works, iii. 170.

Misers, X\\& worst vermin that the land breeds, i. 149.

Misert, Matestt IN', ii. 98, et seq.

Misery, great, removed by great mercy, calls for great thankfulness, i. 98 ; not perfect, unless eternal, 139 ; to be felt sensibly as we are men, borne courageously as we are Christians, 261; often helps a man to mercy, 354 ; either suffer-able or short, ii. 277 ; sense of present, removes atheism, iii. 65.

Moderation in eating and drinking, i. 426 ; proper motives to, 427.

Monasteries, their pollutions, i. 211.

Money, its power in the world, the church, courts of justice, law, ii. 128; its influence compared to that of music, 409; in Italy, can open the door of life; in France, of love; in Spain, of justice ; in England, of honour ; in Ptome, of heaven, 550 ; its power in the world, iii. 227.

Monsters, moral, men with two faces, without heads, with two tongues, with their faces in their feet, with swords in their lips, iii. 52,144.

Monuments, cannot ensure immiortality or a lasting name, i. 152 ; of the wicked only recall their wickedness, ii 459.

Morality, the best lesson of, is a lesson of mortality, i. 337.

Morosity, pride, and avarice, the diseases of old age, ii. 172.

Mortality is the only quality that can be certainly predicated of man, i 59.

Mortification, three degrees of, self-denial, repentance, and pr(!Stration, i. 50 ; two kinds of, the one to cast ourselves out of the world, the other to cast the world out of us ; the former detestable, the latter necessary, ii. 299, iii. 221.

Moses, his prayer to he Wotted out of God's hook,

variously explained, ii. 540. Mountains did not sei vc the wlcUed to cllmh upon

in the flood of" watcis, mir will seive to cover

them in the flood of Arc, iii. 71. Mourning H.vbit, Thk Sinner's, i. iO.etseq. ilourning, for God's absence, a proof of his presence, i C2 ; the portion of all, either here with

repentance, or hereafter in venRcance, 352. Mouth, i.ins of tlic, evi!-.spuaking and drinking, ii.

304. Murderer, the torments of Ills conscience a proof

of divine providence, iii. 156. Music, leads to thoughts of heaven, i. 337 ; its in-

fluence, ii. 408. i/«.siciaHi, shallow, make most dainty to sinfr or

play when most entreated ; so with men called

to praise the Lord, ii 477. Mysteries, of the kinj,'dom,may and must be known,

of the kinc cannot, ii. 70. Mythology, Greek, a perversion of the truths of

Scdpture, i. 207.

I>aaman, his reservation of Rimmon, ii. 355.

Nabal and Laban, two infamous churls, whose names spell one another backward, i. 4>s2.

Nail, loss of, destroyed an army (French proverb), ii. 359.

Aames, false, given to sins, as glory to pride, gallantry to drunkenness, Ac , i. 175, ii. 303 ; great, commonly derived either from blood, popular applause, or golden trappings, i. 276 ; ot the ■wicked sometimes shortened in the Bible, 29.5; ttiose of the friends of God lengthened, 296 ; in what does a good one consist ? ii. 140 ; of Christian, the condemnation, not the comfort, of the hypocrite, 367 ; none can express the nature of God, iii. 90 ; good English (as William and Richard), better than affected singular ones, 212.

Narcissus, a type of the self-righteous, ii. 455.

Natural man, the more adorned, the more wicked, i. 295 ; destitute of the eye of faith, can neither Bee heaven at all, nor the earth aright, ii. 3S1 ; theology only teaches that there is a God, but neither who he i.s, nor how he is to be worshipped, 383 ; men's understandings led by their senses, 498 ; and spiritual men both discharge outward duties, but with different affections and different success, iii. 90.

Nature, corrupt, has nothing in it but vanity, i. 217 ; its corruption, 261 ; hath no foot that can make one true step toward heaven, ii. 191 ; and religion, opposites, ib. ; but a dark lantern, when by it we endeavour to ransack the conscience, 473 ; law of, what it is, 553; sufficient to condemn, ib. ; obscured by sin but not obliterated, 554 ; teaches the unity of God, to set aside time for worship, and the duties of the second table, ib. ; wovks by degrees, angels more suddenly, God in an instant, iii. 120 ; as corrupt in the best, as in the worst, men, 200 ; divine and human of Christ, not confounded, but united, 268. Navigator, The Spibiiual, iii. 38, et seq.

Nectar and ambrosia, the food of the gods, God's true diet the virtues of his saints, ii. 459.

Needle, magnetic, cannot rest till it point to the pole, nor the heart away from God. ii. 386.

Negative goodness not sufficient, il. 452.

Nets, the devil's three, riot, vainglory, covetous-ness, i. 280.

Netherlands devastated by war, I. 302.

Nettles, some hearts like, must be treated firmly, i. 348.

'Nevertoo late' to begin the Christian life, certainly never too soon, iii. 90.

New heavens and new earth are provided for new creatures, ii. 30.

Night, emblem of misery, i. 314; for mortality, eternal day in heaven, iii. 129.

NiQhtirtgale, said to sleep with her breast against a thorn, ii. 485.

Nineveh, oracle foretelling its destruction, how fulfilled, i. 172.

Ay«»ppi«, fable ofhls ewe producing a Hon, ii 257.

Nobleman, Spanish, ingenuous answer of one to Charles V., I. 287.

Non-residence of clergy a great evil, II. 268.

Novalus, his cruelty, ii. 140.

'Now' we live by faith, we did not so before, now, we shall not always, iii 90.

Nurses, ministers are, and must feed their children with milk strained from their hearts, 11. 78.

Oaths wound Christ afresh, 1. 38 ; Romanists' dis-tinction between material and formal, ii. 340.

Obedience the way to heaven, 11. 2i); its character, istics, celerity, integrity, constancy, ib ; true, consists in doing just what we aie bidden, 90.

Obstructions which prevent men from beholding heavenly things, ii. 386.

(Edipus knowing that ho had a father, but not who that father was, a tvpe of the heathen, Iii. 160.

Offences, distinction between, and offenders, ii. 312 ; what kind of necessity that they come ?312.

Offices of king, priest, and prophet, have been united, in twos, in various persons (.Melchize-dec, king and priest, David, king and prophet, Samuel, priest and prophet), but only in Christ all three, iii. 219.

(fficers, bribe-taking, ride over men'.» heads, 1. 87 ; are thieves, ii. 243; are tharp and sharking brambles, 482.

Offering, Christ's whole life an, his deatli a sacrifice, ii. 434.

Omnipotence of God, in what it consists, iii. 109; limitations of, ib.

Omnipresence of God, extends to heaven, earth, and hell, but not to purgatory, ii. 255.

Opfbession, The Rage of, i. 80, el seq.

Oppression persecutes Christ through the bowels of the poor, i. 38 ; an inviter to tlie devil's banquet, 164.

Oppressors, are cunning hunters, i. 13; the will of one, 232 ; their doom, ii. 34.

Origen, held that the devil and his angels shall be relea.seil from their toitures, ii. 565.

Original sin, called corruption, actual, poison, i. 71 ; doctrine of, vindicated, 257 ; discussion on, iii. 194.

Ormus, his dream about Thomas k Becket, iii. 28.

Orpheus, motives of the beasts which came to hear, iii. 256.

Ostentation, man's, the object of God's detestation, ii. 239.

P's, three, patrons, priests, people, i. 4G4; three, parasites, panders, players, 496.

Painter, why he made I'eter and Paul ruddy, ii. 292.

I'apists, can have no assurance of salvation, i. 64 ; their strange and impossible vows, 109 ; have nothing against the Church of England but the Pope's sui»remacy, ib. ; are madmen and dangerous, 28u ; folly of their ceremonies, 287 ; all their religion made up of distinctions, ib. ; refuse at certain seasons to eat flesh, but are al-ways ready to drink men's blood, 288 ; their taunt,' \\ here was your church before Luther?' answered, 410 ; usurp the name of the church, yet persecute it, ib. ; theirmalignity, 415 ; their persecution worse than the Jews', 416; their strength in argument, 457; their treasons against Queen Elizabeth, ii. 152; are rankling thorns and rending briars, 482 ; represent themselves as persecuted, 483.

Parables, reasons why Christ taught by, ii. 36 ; one concerning God, the soul, reason, and the senses, 85.

Paradise, was for pleasure, labour. Instruction, iii. 133 ; heavenly,exceeds the eaithly, as much as that exceeded a barren desert, 135 ; were a prisoa with sin, a prison were a paradise without sin^ 216.

Pardon, a proud and scornful, la a reproachful wrong, ii. 317.

INDEX.

Paris, massncre of, a fire without smoke, ii. 163.

Parity in government the mother of disorder, ii. 266.

Parry, his conspiracy against Elizabeth, i. 288.

'Parsley' (frugality), its virtues, ii 464.

Pas.-^ing Bkll, The Sinner's, i. 329, et seq.

Passing-bell, a good custom, i. 331; three reasons for it, ib.

Passion makes him a fool who is not, and him who is to appear such, i. 265.

Patience, The Victory of, i. 90, et seq.

Patience, one of the gates of the city of peace, ii. 316; is more than mere forbearance, 317; meekly bears wrongs done to our own persons, fortitude courageoiisly encountei's those done to the person of Christ, iii. 80.

' Patierice,' the herb, its virtues, ii. 460.

Patient, disease and i hysici<in, any two uniting, are a match for the third, iii. 28U.

Patriarchs, the good, were plain men, in dress, houses, and food, i. 20 ; their contempt of the world, 27 ; their frugality, 28.

Patrons and improiiriators, their oppressions, i. 16 ," appeal to, 463 ; if simoniacal be saved, so living and so dying, there is hope for the devil, ib. ; simoniacal, are briars and thorns, ii. 483 ; buy and sell, not in the church, but the church itself, 506.

Patronage, abuse of, i. 331, 453.

Paul, the most distinguished of all saints, ii. 265 ; and Barnabas, why united, 266 ; loved his malefactors more than most love their benefactors, 318 ; his courage and his tears, 530 ; reckons up twelve of his inflicted sufferings, nine dangers, and eight continued passions, iii. 287.

Peace, The Ciir of, ii. 310, et seq.

Peace, England blessed with, ii 102 ; and pros-perity under Elizabeth, 152 ; those who attempt to make between the temple of God and idols, are accursed, 2S5 ; description of, per. sonified, 311; may be with evil men, but not in evil matters, 313; compared to a city, i6. ; its ■wallsunity and concord,314; itj gates innocence, patience, benefaction, and satisfaction, 315 ; its enemies hostility and mutiny, 321 ; its government magistracy, 326 ; its law religion, 327 ; its palace the temple, 328 ; its river prosperity, 330 ; the life of its citizens love, 331 ; its state felicity, 332 ; its inheritance eternal glory, 334 ; with ourselves, a conformity of affection to reason, of reason to grace, 333 ; allegorical description of her and her court, ib.

Pelagianism, errors of, refuted, i. 255, ii. 454.

Pelican, said to feed her young with her blood, i. 43J ; way ot catchin^^, ii. 157.

Penitence, its rarity, ii. 170.

'Penny-royal,' its virtues, ii. 463.

Pereriiis, the Jesuit, his prediction of calamities on England, i. 3u3.

Perfection of the body is the soul, of the soul reason, of reason religion, of religion faith, of faith Christ, i. L9 ; to be constantly aimed at, though never reached, ii. 198 ; its fulness re-sei-vetl for heaven, 399 ; of Christ in some sort :iot complete until the Church be fully gathered togetlier, 402; of justification is on earth, of sanctification in heaven, 571 ; of the drunkard to 1)0 a pel feet beast, of the prodigal to be a perfect beggar, of the miser to live unblessed and die unpitied, of the .Jesuit to be a perfect traitor; of the adulterer to lie a perfect lazar, of the malicious to be a perfect villain, of the proud to be a perfect fool, of the blasphemer to be a perfect devil, 572; not to be e.\pected at once, iii. 118.

Perfume of Moses allegorised, ii. 430.

i'eri'OJiS justilicd before actions, ii. 178.

Persecution, ordained of God for the good of the church, but without any allowance to the instruments, i. 81; degrees of, 84; in Queen Mary's days said by the papists to have been in love, 416.

Persecutors are as apothecaries, to minister bitter pills to the people of God, hut only for their good, and according to the prescription of the

great Physician, i. 21 ; in Queen Mary's days first imprisoned the Protestants, and then made a law to condemn them, ii. 120.

Perseverance of the saints, argued, ii. 539 ; alone makes happy, iii 74 ; perfects all graces, 75.

Pettifoggers are inviters to the devil's banquet, i. 163.

Pharaoh drowned the Hebrew males in a river, and was himself drowned in the sea, i. 219; his negotiations with Mo.ses, ii. 58; his greatest plague was his hard heart, 258 ; his attempts to beat down the demands of God, 357.

Pharisees on the Sabbath would not put out a house on fire, ii. 339.

Philip the Long, his charter to the Jacobines, ii. 57.

Philistines set God (the aik) in the temple of idols, the papists set idols in the temple of God, ii 293.

Philosopher, story of one who disarmed the rage of an emperor, by taking his (the emperor's) child in his arms, ii. 275 ; so does faith, ib.

Philosophy, supernatural better than natural, i. 337; new may be better than old, but not new divinity, 472.

Philoxenus, his wish, ii. 124.

Physic fhom Heaven', i. 358, etseq.

Physic and divinity, their fit collation, i. 333.

Physicians, their responsibility, i. 184 ; their prosperity as compared with the poverty of ministers, indicates that men put more value on the health of their bodies than of their souls, 330; their duty, 338 ; the heathens deified them, ib.; may seasonably and profitably exhort their patients, 339 ; some are so deep naturalists, that they are very shallow Christians, ib. ; Indian, cure wounds by sucking the poison, 379.

Piety and charity, equally incumbent, ii. 226 ; in the opinion of some divine.s, the former more than the latter, ib. ; the best friend of felicity, though felicity does not always befriend piety, 268 ; and patience cannot be cast down so low, but the hand of mercy can raise them, iii. 293.

Pijjer, tale of one from Herodotus, i. 352, ii. 477.

Pirate, compared to the sea-serpent, i. 79.

Plague, a judgment for England's sin, i. 250; its devastations in England, 420.

Plague of many is, that they are not plagued, their punishment that they are not punished, i. 298 ; the greatest that befel the Egyptians came by the most contemptible creatui-es, ii. 352.

Plain-Dealing, i. 19, et seq.

Plain-dealing, is pleasing to God, i. 29; preserves the credit of a good name, ib.; infatuates the malicious plots of enemies, ib.; preserves the state from ruin, ib. ; preserves from the troubles and vexations of the world, 30 ; and from the curses of the poor, ib. ; is the best comfort on a death-bed, ib.; and the best preparation for heaven, ib.

Plato, inscription over his door, ii. 510.

Pleas, seven general for sin, predestination, God's will, ignorance, good deeds to weigh with evil, God's mercy, Christ's satisfaction, repentance, ii 364.

Pleasure and profit, are the devil's mill-stones, i. 209 ; honour and riches are the world's trinity, 319 ; impossible without health, 424; worldly, unsatisfying, 433; worldly, is but a waking dream, ii. 134 ; vain, is an idol, 300 ; bodily, is but the body or shadow of pleasure, of the soul is the soul of pleasure, iii. 293.

Plenty is the daughter of prosperity, ambition of plenty, corruption of ambition, ii. 407.

Pluralities, condemned, i. 388.

Poison, whence it is in man, i. 71 , spreads all through his nature, his thoughts, senses, tongue, liands, heart, 72 ; its injurious ettectson others, 75. ,

Politician, The Good, Directed, ii. 24, et seq.

Politicians use their lovers as ladders, their friends as scaffolds, ii. 416.

Polycarp, his denunciation of Marcion, ii. 344.

Pompey, his stratagem to take a city, ii. 359, iii. 193.

Poor, their sufferings at the hand of oppressor, i.

817

13 ; live obscurely but securely, 151 ; value of their prayers, ii. 9 ; their bowels a fit nci'p. taclc for the superfluities of the rich, 124 ; should have a chiM's part bequcuthcd to them, 137 ; Ooil's and tlie devil's. 232 ; appointed for the trial of the rich, 319 ; should be fed as well as counselled, 407.

Pope, called by the canonists, 'Our Lord God,' i. 115 ; wickedness of some has been monstrous, 162 ; liis policy to advance his hierarchy by ignorance, 234 ; beps the heart, 2.')9 ; .short lives of many excite a suspicion that the chair is often Kot by treason, 289 ; his arrojiant pretensions, 305 ; feiRued to cause the gate of .St Peter's to tall down by a tap of his silver hammer, ii. 50 ; not the successor of Teter but of Homulus, 152 ; and popish clercy, their extortion and avarice, 162, the most snbtle thief in the world, 241; has neither precept nore.tample from the Biblo for deposing kinns. 364 ; has helped many men to heaven by malunR them martyrs, iii. 28.

Poptry, why so often attacked in sermons, i 203; steals from Jews, Turks, paeans, and heretics, I'ft.; its doctrines pleasing to corrupt nature, 205 ; its study throughout is to mock God, ii. 367 ; not persecuted in England, hut treason punished, 527.

Poreh of the temple, prefigured baptism, ii. 297.

Poverty makes men religious, religion makes them rich, and riches makes them irreligious, i 482; of Christ, born in another man's stable, fed at another man's table, laid in another man's tomb, ii. 211.

Power is in God's hand to destroy, but patience is In his lieart to forbear, ii. 170 ; and malice tlie worst match in the world, iii. 228.

Praise of Fertilitv, ii. 447, et seq.

Praises, The Place of, i 98, et seq.

Praise is acceptable wherever offered, i. 102 ; specially suitable to God's liouse, 103 ; public, 104; should be freely given when deserved, ii. 188; cannot add to God's glory, nor blasphemy detract from it, iii. 11.

Prayer the end of preaching, i. 103 ; and preaching both necessary, 458 ; power of, ii. 169 ; of the Romanists to saints are blasphemous, 428 ; is to be to all the persons of the Godhead, yet may be to one, so as the oth' rs are included, iii. 98 ; begs particularly what faith believes generally, 105 ; ceases with this life, praise continues for ever, 221; power of, 275 ; is a hand that can hold omnipotence, ib ; qualities that render unacceptable, 276 ; of acceptable, faith is tha soul, repentance the life, 278.

Preaching, its object is to lend to praying, i. 103 ; will not be in heaven, ib. ; must be sometimes in terror, sometimes in meekness, 365 ; frequent is important, but not more so than faithful hearing, 366 ; of life made more forcible by the good life of the preacher, 389; foolishness of, 450; four hindrances to success of, error, schism, popularity, covetousness, ii. 160 ; frequent, unreasonable desire for, 270.

Predestination, no good plea for sin, ii. 365; helps many to stand, pushes none down, ib.

Preordination consistent with man's responsibility, i. 82 ; manifest in the sufferings of Job, and the crucifixion of Christ, ib.

preparation for suffering necessary, iii. 25.

Prescience, God'.s, does not make him guilty of men's sins, ii. 3ti5.

Presence, God's, fills all places, his gracious presence fills the temple, ii. 286

Presumition Running into rEspAtR, ii. 63.

Presumption to be avoided as well as despair, i. 62; originates In self-conceit and Satan's deceit, ib. ; none for a Christian to believe his sins pardoned, ii. 558; goes before sin, despair follows it, iii. 186.

Pride the effect of sin In the heart, I. 74 ; surges upwards like smoke, virtue keeps below like gold, l.')l ; an inviter to ihe devil's banquet, 163 ; its sinfulness, 190 ; originates in self-ignorance, 277; conipaied to plcuiisy, 485; its cuie by VOL. III.

precept and pnttern, 487 ; make.i a wUe man • fool, and continues him a fool that is so, tl. • turns a man against God, other sins only from God, ii. 301; Is conveisant even about good works and graces, ift. ; extends to all ranks and classes, 437 ; description of, personified, iii. 59.

Priests, Homish, are traitors, i. 306; Jewish directed the .Magi to the Saviour, but did not go themselves, ii 5 ; unholincs^i of, cannot dishallow the altar, 289.

Priesthood, the privilege of the firstborn, 1. 6 ; of Christ, iii. 220 ; of Christians, ib. ; their sacrifices, a holy life, prayer, thanksgiving, charity, repentance, ib. ; Jev/ish, lasted above 1100 years' 238.

Primogeniture conferred the priesthood, i. 6 ; pri. vileges of, the ' excellency of strength,' the name of the family, the right to sacrifice, a double portion, ii. .'i.'U.

Prince (afterwards Charles I), joy at his return (from Spain in 1623), ii. 184.

Princes, are high by their calling, but low by their nature, corrupt, weak, con uptible, dying, i. 256 ; I'ope commands subjects not to obey heretical, ii 146.

IVisons, though intended for reformation, are schools of worse lewdness, ii. 480.

Prodigality, folly of, i. 247 ; compared to a flux, 496 ; le.ss noxious than avarice, ii. 342.

Profane persons, come to church to shew their clothes, i. 110 ; while they wear God's livery serve the devil, 311; are the worst enemies of religion, ib.

Pro/aneness, its fate, i. 127; should be punished by the magistrate, ib. ; compounded of all sins, 180 ; a grief of all times, a disease of all churchea, 415 ; compared to jaundice, 497.

Professions, most of them conducted sinfully ii. 24'J.

Promises, to be faithfully kept, i. 146.

'Pronouns, great divinity in,' (Luther), i. 68 ii 205.

Prophet, sent to Bethel, wherein he sinned, ii. 364.

Prophetical office of Christ, iii. 221.

Prosperity, hearty meat, but not digestible by a weak stomach, ii. 330.

Protestant and popish morality compared, i. 423.

Proud men do not know God, i. 51 ; are madmen, 277 ; are 'poor spirits,' the humble are 'poor in spirit,' ii. 189 ; like the bird of paradise or the ostrich, their feathers of more value than their body, 460 ; have their idol (honour) in the air, the covetous his (gold) in the earth, the drunken epicure his (wine, &c.) in the water, iii. 33.

Providence, God's, universal, iii. 151; different opinions of philosophers regarding, ib ; objections answered, ib. ; Scripture constantly magnifies, 155 ; experience confirms, 16. ; proved by experience, by conscience, by the fulfilment of prophecy, by comparison with men, by the instincts of animals, by the feeling of every man, 156 ; is either general or special, 165.

Prudence, the soul of virtue, i. 238.

Psalms, David's, are all either llosanna or Hallelujah, i. 134 ; one (cxxxvl.) contains twenty-six statements of God's everduring mercy, iii. 3.

Punishments of the wicked are usually'in the like kind with their sins, i. 218 ; God's, are by degrees, ii. 103 ; a threefold gradation of, rejection, malediction, combustion, 487.

Purgatory, Is mythological, or fabulous, i. 91 ; unknown to Paul, ii. 471 ; different opinions of Romanists regarding, 16.

Puritans and papists, their opposite objections to the Church of England, ii. 530.

Purity of communion, to the extent insisted on by the Brownists, Impossible, ii. 156, 224.

'Pu< on Christ,' to. Is to express him in our conversation, iii. 233.

Pyrrhus, his reflections on his vlctorj', iii. 287.

Question, the strongest form of assertion, i. 340; first address to Adam after his fall, ib. ; proflU

less, about trifles, prove men to be brain-sick, 472.

Eabhi, counsel of one to his scholars, i. 211 ; affirmed that God requires two thinps concerning his law, custody and execution, ii. 339.

Rain, resemblance of Christianity to, and differ-ence from, U. 335 ; what becomes of it? re-appears in fruits, 443 ; in sendinp, or drought, God respects our sins or obedience, iii. 162.

Rats, story of their eating a German bishop, i. 149, iii. 206.

Eaymond, Earl of Toulouse, accused of heresy, ii. 151

Reason, we should be able to give for our faith, but faith must not stand upon, iii. 260

Rebekah, inclined by God to prefer Jacob to Esau, i. 24.

Reconciliation with Rome impos-sible, i. 306.

Recreation, to be used moderately, i. 3; uses of, * ; no credit to a man's holiness to condemn all, iii. 134.

Redemption, is wholly of God, 1. 95 ; Is a gi'eater work thiin creation, 99 ; not universal, iri. 206.

Rfflgk, The Soil's, iii. 2Z,et seq.

Regeneration, necessity of, ii. 30 ; the first sign of, is throbs and thioes, iii. 77.

Regicides are regnicides, i. 418.

Rejection of Chri^t, by the Bethleheniites, whohad no room for him in tlie inn ; by Israel, so that he had to flee into Egypt; by Jerusalem, throughout bi.s ministry ; by his kindred, his disciples, even his apostles, ii.424.

Relapse, more dangerous than the first sickness, i. 447, ii. 66.

Religion, the ground of all fidelity to king and country, ii 260.

Hemission, always given to repentance, but repentance mt always given to the sinner, ii. 93 ; gives joy, how mucJi more the abolition of sin? 500.

Remonstrances, God's, with sinners,!. 341.

Eemora, a small fish, said to be able to stay a ship, iii. 50.

Remorse, its tortures, i. 240.

Repentance, exhortation to, j 53 , danger of sinning in liopeof future, 54 ; God promises pardon to all who repent, but not that all shall i-epent, ib ; allcgoiical de;cription of, j6. ; another, 56 ; dispenses with worldly delights, and even with natural rcfrL'sliings, ii. ; madness of putting off, 197 ; the proper engine for emptying the heart of its evil, 267; is accepted ' at what time soever, wiiat sinner soever, repents of wliat sins soever,' 326, ii. 466 ; cannot be without restoration, i 464 ; overly and superficial, may sweep the heart, but does not wa>li it, ii. 56 ; reads the law and weeps, faith reads the gospc 1 and com-forts, 2u2; is not in the tears, but in the soul, 346; its form, steps, purpose, preparation, beginning, and completion, 489 ; should be rather daily food tlian occasional physic, 572 ; breaks the stony, and heals the broken heart, iii. 218 ; a laundress, to wa.sh out sin, 273; personified, 297.

Reprehension is commendable, when it is reasonable and seasonable, ii. 224.

Reprobate mind, the most terrible of judgments, i. 251.

Resolution, godly, is the child of a sanctified spirit, born with the throbs and throes of true peni-fence, i. 100.

Restitution, a greater work than xjonstitution, ii. 574.

Restoration may be without repentance, but not repentance without restoration, i. 464,

Resurrection, denied by Esau, i. 5 ; the first, is the spiritual life by grace, 233 ; Augustine's argument for, 309.

Revelation, book of, contains as many mysteries as sentences, iii. 38 ; Bullinger calls it the most gcspel-like book, ib.

Revenge is unsuited to a Christian, i. 192 ; is infidel and fruitles.s, ii. 325 ; blasphemous Italian proverb concerning, ib.

Reverence due to the house of God, ii. 286.

Reward, how to be understood in Scripture, il. 186 ; is according to our works, not to our success, 272 ; is not after merit, but mercy, 467.

Rib, questions about Adam's, iii. 140.

Rich worldling, a hired porter, who carries a great load of wealth on his weary back all the day, iii. 45.

Richard I., his answer to the pope, ii. 396.

Richard Wl., his dream on the night before the battle of Bosworth, i. 240, ii. 15.

Ridies, uses of, i. 45 ; and honour are God's giftsi, yet not all, 139 ; generally go togetlier, ib. and 153 ; are but the gifts of his left hand, ib. ; both riches and poverty sanctified by Clirist in his birth, his life, and his death, ib. ; if they come from God, are honestly gotten, justly disposed, and patiently lost, 142 ; ill-gotten by the father, are squandered by the son, 143 ; their right disposal to God, our neighbours, and ourselves, ib. ; which God truly gives man truly enjoys, 148; are abused by superstition, liot, malice, misery (miserliness), ib. ; compared to Jonah's gourd, 154 ; are valueless without health, 424 ; all that is certain is their uncertainty, 432 ; do not diminish sin, ii 141 ? nor punishment, 142; nor remove any plague from the body, ib ; nor preserve from misfortune, 143 ; not necessarily evil, but exceedingly dangerous, 251 ; given to some tliat tliey may help the poor, as the poor are ordained for the triiil of the rich, 319 worldly, the little help that lies in them, 401 got with trouble, kept with fear, lost with grief, 486.

Righteous have night and day, a short night now, a h'.ng day hereafter ; unrighteous have day and night, a short day and a long night, i. 315 ; and wicked have each three mansions, the earth and the grave in common, the one heaven, and the oQier hell, iii. 24.

Righteousness, must be not only negative but positive, i. 323 ; men naturally love everything better than, 451; common opinion that a moderate meafure is sufficient, 452 ; of God in smiting Christ, ii. 429 ; is either passive, or imputed, or active, 569 ; of Christ makes both our persons and our actions acceptable to God, iii. 220.

Ring, marriage, many are curious and some superstitious in keeping, iii. 86.

Riot, much spending of money upon, i. 149; an inviter to the devil's banquet, 1(j4.

Rivalry among ministers hurtful, ii. 4?2.

Robbery forbidden literally in one commandment, and by inference in all, i. 177.

Rocks, rending of, at Christ's death, foresignified the efiicacy pf his gospel, ii. 104.

Rogues and vagabonds compared to dromedaries, i. 17.

Romans could neither endure a bad emperor, nor obey a good one.

Romanists unite the sins of the Arians, Manichees, and Nestorians, i. 178 ; their corruption of the trutli, 370; justification of wickednes.s, 423; false glosses of Scripture, ii. 338 ; and novellists (innovators) alike appeal to imagination, iii. 85.

Rome, thirty bi.^hops of, suffered martyrdom for Christ, but now Kome is not like wliat Rome was, i. 109 ; a glorious harlot, ii. 90 ; reconcilia-tion with, impossible, 294; controversy not about circumstantials but essentials, ib. ; an unlucky pliuie for England, 295 ; danger of young gentlemen travelling there, ib. ; not a church, 530.

' Rue,' its virtues, ii. 405.

' Rule of three,' faith, repentance, charity, hard to learn, ii. 75, 492.

Sackcloth and ashes, their meaning aa used in

mourning, i. 58 Sacraments, keep out the devil, when he has been

driven out by the sword, ii. 42; and ministers

are not the givers of what God gives through

them, 290.

819

Sacrifice op Tii.vkkfclness, The, i. 114. et srq.

Sacrifice, of prcut uiitiquity, i. 108; the best la obedience, ib. ; not n dead beast, but a living goiil, heart, hnnd, foot, toneiie, ear, eye, body, and spirit, to.; were either expiatory or gnu tulatory, 121 ; the former eniled in Clirist, ib. ; of thankfulness, must In- without ostentation, Belf-complacency, bitterness, or blemish, 12'2 ; and with incense, salt, blood, and entireness, 123 ; to be bound to the alt ir with the cords of love, fear, and faith, 125 : the best is the heart, 258 ; the only acceptable, is the heart, ii 261 ; of Christ, was of his whole person, ."ioul and body. Godhead and manhood, 427; "f infinite value, but of definite apprehension, iii 2 i6 ; available In all time, for all sins, ot men of all sorts, but limited in its application, 2U7.

Sacrilege, is an incurable wound, i. 1C2 ; its hein-ousnessas a sin, 179 ; lias done for England what war has done for other nations, ii. 102 ; may bo committed against persons, places, or things, 505.

Saint, The Blvck, ii. 36, et set;.

Saints' Mkktino, The, ii. 3S8, et seq.

Saints, national. James for Spain, Dennis for France, Patrick for Ireland, and God for England, i. 48 ; their infirmities recorded for the Instruction of those who stand, and for the con-eolation of those who have fallen, 55 ; communion of, 397 ; who arose at Christ's death, where were their souls before? ii. 105 ; what became of them afterwards? i6 ; instructions from, 106 ; prayers to, sinful, 367 ; recognition of, in heaven, 399 ; in what sense shall they judge the world ? 547 ; on earth are apprentices, in heaven freemen, 507 ; their lives a commentary on Scripture, 5^19 ; good men imitate, but do not wor-ship, papists worship and do not imitate, lewd men do neither, ib ; worship of, is polytheism, 575.

iSaZvaiiO/i, certainty of, i. 61; may be made sure to ourselves, ib. ; u present blessing, 70 ; e."ctend3 to the whole man, 76; is not probable in the Church of Rome, 533.

Samaritans, made examples of faith (woman and people of Sycliar), of charity (man who succoured him who fell among thieves), and of thankfulness (leper who returned), ii. 187.

Sanctification, admitsof degrees, justification does not, i. 362; is the only vroof of adoption, 401 ; must be communicateil to the whole man, and universally propagated to every part, though it have in no pai t a total perfection, iii. 78.

Sand-storm, i educed a whole field in England from a fertile soil into a barren waste, i. 303.

Sapor, of Pcreia, his arro'^'ance, i. 282.

Satan, his gifts are destruction, i 202 ; gives no-thing, but sells all, 2 '3 ; lends his strength to the wicked to bear their sins, 300 ; his stratagems to retain command of the soul, ii. 59 ; his kingdom. 238 ; better pleascl with the fall of one Christian than of many unbelievers, 303 ; will take small sins if lie cannot get great ones, quarrelling if not murder, hatred if not quarreling, &c , 3)7.

Satire, on the emperor, the pope, a state-councillor, a courtier, &c , ii 185.

Satisfaction, one of the gates of the city of peace, ii. 319 ; six rules of making, for injurias, ib. ; made by Christ for sin, no reason for sinning, 366.

Scarcity, in England, a judgment on drunkenness, ii. 444.

Schism, evils of. i. 180, 397, ii. 101.

Schismatics say they separated for their consciences, but really from their consciences, i. 110.

akiipio, Africanns, his epitaph, i. 133.

Scribes and Pharisees, estimation In which they were held, ii. 339.

Scorners, four clas-ses of, I. 309.

Scripture.':, could not be di.^paraged by the devil's quoting them, i. 3(!3 ; written either for our in-ttruction or destruction, ii. 38; not dependent on the authority of the church, but on their own

witness. 526 ; copious and punctual In the mug. nifying of divine providence, iii. 150 ; represent it us extending to a'l events ib. ; contain Christ In every leaf, almost in every line, are the swaddling bands of .Jesus, 224.

Sea of crystal, seven explanations of, ill. 39 ; that preferred which regards it as repiescnting the world, 41 ; this interpretation vinillcated, 42.

Securilij, the suburbs of hell, i. 299, iii. 191; compared to apoplexy, i. 498.

Skkd-timk and Hakvi-.st, Man's, ii. ,360, et seq.

Seels of the woi-.^t fin are in the best men, iii. 199.

Seed-time, a wet (with the tears of repentance), best fur the heavenly haivest, ii. 373, 466.

Seers and overseers (pastors and bishops), distinct, ii. 266,

Seir, Mount, origin of its name, i. 301; why Esau chose it as a residence, ib. ; of great strength, not unfertile, probably graced with one or more goodly cities, 3U2.

Self.abhorrence, its reasonableness, i. 52.

Self justification, by a lie, as Gehazi, by pretence, as Saul, l)y putting the blame on another, a« Adam, ii. 93.

Self-knowleJge, a hard and n liappy thing, ii. 379 ; to be acquired by looking at ourselves in a na. tnral, a moral, and a spiritual glass, 3"3.

Self-love, though a duty, never commanded in the Bible, i. 52.

Se7iiinarie.i, compared to asps, i. 79; pretend a warrant from the l^ope to destroy princes, 250 ; compared with the Pharisees, ii. 338.

SiMi'Kit Idem, iii 1, et seq

Sense.^, are the cinque ports where the devil's traffic is taken-in, i. 72.

iSfenience of condemnation, 'Depart from me,'Ac, analysed, ii. 490, 563 ; of acquittal, 559.

Separation, from Pome justified, ii. 525 ; from a cliurch warranted when cither the substance of God's worship or of doctrine is quite corrupted, 529.

Sejmratists, their nature, i. 183;are brain-sick, 472.

Skumon, a Visit.vtiom, ii. 264, ct seq.

Sermo7}s, how they should be heard, i. 366 ; God's, to Pharaiih were frogs, flies, &c., and lastly the Hed Sea, ii 127.

Seri'kxts, a Generation of, i. 71, et seq.

Serpents, fable resi'ecting one, i. 1.33 ; their first care to defend tlicir heads, ii. 25 ; way of stopping tlieir ear to the voice of the charmers, 26 ; shun the society of men as known enemies, and rather choose a wiUleriie.ss among briars and thorns, ib. ; their wakefulness, 29 ; cast their skins once a year, 30 ; fable regarding, t6. ; examples in respect of wisdom, but not in respect of highmindediicss, treachery, ingratitude, vo. racity, cruelty, enmity against man, 31; and vermin, their use, 174 ; b:te of, said to destroy the voice of a singer, li?4 ; binzen, derived iti efficacy neither from the material biass nor the serpentine form, but from the appointment of God, 206; why employed by Satan in the temptation, iii. 176.

Service of the Hc^h is of a fellow, of the world Is of a servant, of the devil is of an enemy, i. 116 ; of God is the test of sonship, ii. 83.

Seven, a number of perfection signifying fulness, ii. 63.

Sexes, both honoured by Christ, In that he was a man and not a woman, and born of a woman without aid from man. iii. 244.

Sheep and goats, their differences, i. 428.

Shopkrepers, their trie!- s, i. 15.

Shortne.is of life, a blessing to the Christian, as bringing hiin sooner to perfection, ii. 403.

Shot, The, i 21.i. etseq

Shot, or reckoning, of the fatal banquet, its car. nest paid in this life, the full payment hereafter, I. 240.

SicKN'Es.s Esc.LANii'.<i, i 394, et seq.

SicKNE.ss, The Soul's, i. 471, et seq.

Sickness of the soul, has critical periods, i. 230; bodily, is all for sin. 435 ; cither for its correction or its punishment, 436 ; spiritual takes dlf. ferent forms in the regenerate and the repro-

INDEX.

bate, 437; in the elect an afHicted conscience, in the reprobate iinpcnitency and despair, ib.; spiritual more dangerous tliaii corporal, 440.

Sight, six conditions necessary to ttie perfection of, ii. 3S4.

Silence malies ns Ruilty of the sins which we see witliout reprovin?;, ii. 417.

Similitude and example exceedingly move men, IL 382.

Simon Magns, destroyed hy ambition, 1. 282.

Simony is not cluirgeable on a spiritual man who pays for the quiet possession of what is his own, i. 22 ; its prevalence, 179 ; more sinful in the seller than the buyer, 463.

Sin is dishonouring to God, i. 53; is the mind's harlot, 158 ; and grace cannot be united in one conscience, 169 ; its nniltiplicity,170 ; robs God, men, ourselves, 177; all, injures ourselves, 189 ; why pleasant ? 200 ; its shainelessness, 221; its delights like fair and sweet flowers, but full of serpents, 222; best way to conquer, is to flee, i&.; compared to the Spanish Armada, 225 ; its lowest degree is to make a mock at sin, 249: sensibly brings on present judgments, rt.; and it not, is all the more feiirful, 250; provokes God to anger, 251; was puni.shed even in heaven, 252 ; nought but Christ's blood can cure, ib. ; every wilful, is madness, 276; may dwell in the Christian's heart, but cannot reign, 290; is either a defect of right believing or of straight living, 429 ; is its own worst punishment, ib.; all, makes work either for Christ to expiate or for the devil to plague, 506 ; aggiavations of, in respect of the committer, the place, the time, the nature against whom it is committed, ii. 61; man's, makes God curse his very blessings, 102; progress in, 251; not a creature of God, but a defect, a privation or orbity of that which God made, 336 ; compared with leaven in five particulars, 345 ; offensive to God, to the angels, to the church, to tlie sinner himself, 347 ; a little, infected a great deal of righteousness, 349 ; like a bemired dog, if it but fawns on us it fouls us, 358 ; to the affections while it is doing is supple oil, to the conscience when it is done a prick, ing thorn, 486 ; offends God's law, unbelief his gospel, 508 ; is a mortgage of our birthright, 537 ; is twofold, forsaking the good and com-mitting the evil, 564; so punishment is a deprivation of joy and a giving over to torment, ib. ; is heavier than rocks and mountains, iii. 69 ; brings a threefold death to the soul, by its guilt, its filth, and its punishment, 88 ; in what sense God decreed it, 115; falling into soma great, often occasions a man's good by arousing his conscience, 156 ; how far God permits and governs, 163 ; not to be measured by the object about which it is conversant, but the commandment which it violates, 184 ; original, what it is, 194; a real communication of the sin (guilt) of our first parents to us, a depravation and corruption of our whole nature, j6. ; the manner of its propagation hard to define, 195 ; derived trom Eve as well as Adam, (6.; does not dwell in the substance of man, 196 ; comes not by imitation, ib. ; is equal in all, 199 ; no evil without, 216 ; is worse than Satan, death, and hell, 217; repentance and pardon are like March, April, and May, 299.

Sins, some have no latitude beyond the conscience of the committer, others are as mallets to the country, i. 14; why called works of darkness, 120 ; often go in pairs, sometimes by threes, sometimes by whole bands and droves, 171 ; are cool in the ta-to, fiery in operation, 172; like partridges, fly by coveys, 2U9; are our worst enemies, 214; when one is entertained many press in, 266 ; special, peculiar to different nations, 368 ; are disguised under false names, 402 ; all strive to make God serve us, ii. 84; of the ungodly, are made to advance God's glory, 346 ; are represent' d as offen.sive to all the senses of God, 347 ; little, six cautions against, th( y aro In their nature mortal, they are most numerous, they aie not SO easily felt, they are the mate-

rials of great sins, they infect much righteousness, they are most fatal, 350 ; are not all equally heinous, 351 ; all are venial to the faithful and penitent, all mortal to the unbelieving and impenitent, «6, ; least, considered legally is mortal, the greatest, considered evangelically is venial, ib. ; of weakness are committed spe-ciallyagainst God the Father, whose special attribute is power ; of ignorance, against the Son, whose special attribute is knowledge ; of malice, against the Holy Ghost, whose special attribute is love, ib.; little, as crucifying Christ a little! leaping from a precipice and breaking our necks a little I 359; our, were the niuiderers of Christ, the Jews but the executioners, 431; are the only things that we can properly call our own,449 ; go in couples and companies, 479 ; all are pardonable by an infinite mercy, iii. 94; all the capital are thedaughtersof pride, 111 ; all have tongues, but that of blood cries loudest, 272.

Sinful habits cannot pass through the strait gate to heaven, iii. 79.

Sinners give false names to their sins, i. 224; an open, may almost be said to be in a better case than a dissembling saint, ii. 237 ; a humble, than a proud saint, iii. 242.

Sisters, The Three Divine, ii. 274, et seq.

Six days, wliy the world was created in, iii. 119.

Slander, its sinfulness, i. 187; truth does not justify, ib ; by taking away a man's credit deprives him of the power of doing good, ib.; wounds three at a blow, ib. ; like a false alarm of fii'C. spreads from a small beginning, and does great mischief, iii. 50.

Slanderer, rides over the heads of the saints, i. 86.

Sleepers in church are like corpses, i. 480.

Slothful men compared to the li/.ard, i. 79.

Socrates, his advice to a man who would go to Olympus, i. 505, iii. 75 ; as he said that he was a citizen of the world, so the Christian is of heaven, ii. 512.

Soldier's Honodr, The, i. 35, et seq.

Soldier, profession of, not unlawful, i. 41 ; should have a lady's heart and a lion's hand, 43 ; should be the best Cliristians, 44; who overcome, their glorious reward, ii. 199.

Solomon's Proverbs generally consist of two cross sentences connected with a but, i. 216.

Sons, The Two. ii. 81, etseq.

Sons of men, a phrase of diminution, indicating spiritual corruption and natural corruptibleness, i. 255 ; of God should remember their birth and breeding (their regeneration and sanctification), ii. 85 ; unfair distinctions often made between eldest and younger, 86.

Songs of victory fiist used by the Jews, 1. 35.

Sophi of Persia sent his offering to Mecca in English gold, ii. 362.

Sorcerers, Egyptian, failed in minimis, iii. 13.

Sorrows, small, grow great with continuance, ii. 567 ; Godly, for sin, like the pool of Bethesda, iii 299.

Soul's Refuge, The, iii. 23, et seq.

Soul's Sickness, i. 471, et seq.

Sold taken for the life, i. 226 ; cannot lose its understanding and will even in hell, 228 ; though infu.sed by God, yet is con upt as soon as infused, 255 ; three grievances, of original pravity, actual sin, punishment, 506 ; its properties, ii. 130; has a trinity of powers, vegetable, sensitive, rational, ib. ; its principal faculties, knowledge, faith, obedience, 197 ; what becomes of at death? 568; God its host keeper, iii. 29; the world a false keeper, the devil a churlish keeper, the bndy a brittle keeper, 30 ; has three places of being, in the body from the Lord, in the Lord from the body, in the body with the Lord, ib. ; must be committed to God, either in evil-doing as to a judge, or in well-doing as to a faithful Creator, 34; not an accidental quality, but a spiritual and invincible essence subsisting by itself, 146 ; various meanings of, ib. ; not produced by geneiation but infused, 147 ; yet not a part of God ib. ; inspired as soon as the body is formed and before it is born, 148; is immorta^.

ib.; the imace of God, ib. ; ns in the Deity there is Father, Son, and Holy t.host, so in the soul, understanding, will, and memory, ib. ; Its powers, 149; not made fir llic body but the body for it, ib. ; folly of ncirlectinu, 160; nothing In the world, nor the woilditscll, can satisfy, 151.

Sowing of the codly, ii. 372.

SjKiin, the inveterate enemy of Encland, 1. 45 ; her special sin, piide, 368 ; kind's of, reported to be able to relieve demoniacs, ii 42.

Speaking, talking, and saying, distinguished, i. 466.

Speculation, more common tlian obedience, i. 237.

Speech. Idle, i.s speaking witliout thought, false, is speaking differently trom thdughf, iii. 122.

Spirits, seven, of God, what? ii.63; different acceptations of, 567.

Spiritcal I'tk-Salvr, ii. 375. et seq.

SpiRiTCAL NAViGATon, TiiE, iii.SS.et seq.

Spiritual knowledge, does not make us see more than is in the word, but more than tliey do who see only the letter of the word, ii. 383

Sprint; would not be .«o welcome if there were no winter, iii. I."i8; beauties of, 239.

'StJohn's-ifort. its virtues, ii.4'J3.

Stairs. Paul's, hearing, believing, obeying, eternal life, ii. 74.

Standing. Stephen saw Christ, iii. 168.

Star, Christ's, ii. 1, et seq.

Star of Betlileliem, many questions about it, ii. 2; prefigured the gospel, 3 ; four uses of, iii. 127.

Stoics, uselessness of their boasting, i. 439.

Stomach and members, fable of, ii. l.')0.

Stone with the new name, is the joy of the Spirit, ii. 499.

Storks, their treatment of one that forsakes his mate, iii. 49.

Street \n Rome called 'Sober Street,' none such in England, ii. 443.

Strife with our brother makes our best service un-acceptable to our Father, ii 320.

Study of God, the way to make a man humble, 1. 50 ; of his majesty, ib ; of his mercy, 51.

Succession, of persons nothing worth, without succession of doctrine, ii. 531 ; of priesthood useless, without purity of doctrine aud piety of life, iii. 239.

Sufferings for Christ, promised an ample reward, i. 92 ; of Christ, were in all times, in his childhood and manhood, by day and by night, in all places, the cradle, the street, the mountain, the temple, the high priest's hall, the garden, the way, Calvary, in all his sen.-es, in all his members, head, face, mouth, hands, neck, sides, feet, in his soul, ii. 431.

Suicide, is a fleeing from torment to worse torment, i. 240 ; not justifiable even to prevent ravishment, iii. 3.5.

Suitors of the soul, the devil, the world, the flesh, .Jesus Christ, i. 401.

Summons to the judgment, given by Christ, ministerially by the angel's triin)pet, ii. 501.

Sumptuary laws, referred to, ii. 549.

Sun, of righteousness, could shine on a dunghill of sin, without being con'upfed, ii 209 ; appears in three signs, leo, virgo, libra (tlie law, the gospel, the judgment), 215 ; of prosperity causes many to c.ist off Christ's livery, iii. 2'); and rain, specimens illustrative of God's universal providence, 158 ; uses of, for lieat, light, distinction of time, ib. ; the great clock of the world, 159; made to rise daily by God's providence, 160.

Superstitious, applications of money, great Ingratitude, i. 149 ; make idols of gold, the covetous make gold their idol, ii. 302.

Suspicion, timorous, compared to palsy, i. 487.

Swearers, shall have the flames of hell poured on their tongues, i. 2'20 ; are raving madmen, 283 ; railers, .•-colds have hell-flre in their tongues, iii. 20 ; profane, their wickedness, 278.

Sword that guarded the tree of life, what I iii. 193.

Sybil, legend of, ii 2.

Sylla, a question whether he or his anger expired first, iii. 43.

Syphax, his character, as given by Fabius MaxU 111119,11.235.

Tabernacle yxn% for a state of motion and unsettled-iicss, temple tor a state ot ret, ii. I'SC ; God's, if so lovely, what is his mansion ? 500.

Tavxerlan'e, in his siege.s, di.xplayed a white flag th« first day, a red the second, and a black on the third and till the end of the siege, 1.340; his triumph over I5aji:zet, ii 371 ; could daunt hia enemies by his look, iii. 206.

Taming of the 'Iongle, iii 10, et seq.

Tap-houses, keepeis of, taverners, vicluallcrs, Ac, many of them thieves, ii 240; some have sober sentences on the walls, wliile there is nothing but drunkenness within, iii 60.

Tare.rns and theatres, more frequented than chuiche.s i. 298 ; goi.d for the necessary refection of travellers and Btranger.", ii. 48 ; some have pious sentences on the walls, while drunk-enne.ss, blasphemy, aud rioting are within, 96 and iii. 60.

Taylor, Dr Rowland, an F.nglish martyr, 1.92.

Tears, their proper use. iii 192.

Tkmple. Tiik, ii. 284. et .<eq.

7emple, rent its veil for the blasphemy against the Son of God, ii. Iu3 ; is either material or mystical, 285 ; of peace, llomans built without the gates. 328.

Temporal felicity, Komanistshold to be oncspecial note of the true church, iii. 154; blessings, ingratitude for, riepiives us of spiritual, 103.

Temporising preachers, smother God's truth, U. 161.

Temptations, cannot hurt us, unless we be enemies to ourselves, i 104 ; are the devil's pass-money, 220 ; the discovery of .Satan's, should be a special object in every sermon, ii. 50 ; are suited to the tastes of the tempted, 52 ; of the godly are for their instruction, of the wicked for their destruction, 330; crafiiness of, shewn in twelve particulars, 178 ; .should be looked at in the back as well as in front. 181.

Testament, a usurer's, commonly a testimony of his lewd life, ii. 410.

Testaments, Old and New, compared to the cloud and the fire of the pillar, i 373.

Thames, the best river in Englahd, ii. 330 ; with it London might dispense with court and parliament, i6.

TnANKFCLN-F,.ss, Tke Saoutficr OP, i. 114, tt seq.

Thankfulness to God, its obligation, i. 130.

Thanksgiving, the best sauce to our meat, i. 135 ; to be not only with our lips, but our lives, ib.

Theft, its sinfulness, i. 185 ; Includes extortion, usury, fraud, inju.'-tice. 180.

Themistocles, his son's power in Athens, ii. 242.

Theodosius, his dying words, ii. 282.

Thieves, oftener repent than usuiers,i. 180 ; public and detected, are more likely to repent than private and unsuspected, ii. 240 ; on the cross iiad no insults, taunts, or invectives thrown against them as Jesus had, 424.

TnoRNS, Tub Fokkst of, ii. 471, ct seq.

Thorns, Thf. End of, ii. 48."), ei seq.

Thorns and briars, rcsr-mblancc between, and sing, ii. 478 ; grow most "n barren ground, i6.; grow in heaps, ib. ; are refuges for serpents, &c., 479 ; block up passages, ib.; wound and prick, ib.

Thoughts, evil, that pass through the mind without approbation are rather crosses than sins, i. 72 ; are not free, ii 250 ; arc the creatures of men, born giants, iii. 282 ; some evil ones are darts of Satan, and are not sins unless wc give them entertainment, 283; troublesome, arc either of fear or sorrow, ib. ; their multitude, ib.

Threatenings, God's, not implacable to f.iith, or without reservation of mercy to repentance, i. 274 ; arc a terror to the wicked, a warning to the g"dly, ii. 565.

Three Divine Sisters, Toe, ii 274. et seq.

JTirone, God's, signifles that impartial government which he e.xeiciseth over the world, iii. 01.

Tiberius might have been a good subject, but was a bad emperor, ii. 4o8

Tigers, wolves, lions, serpents, sea monsters, and birds of all kinds, can be tamed, Iii. 316; manner of stealing their cubs, 50.

INDKX.

Times, iniquity, decenerp.cv, and profaneness of,

i 212,415, 4^5,-444 ii. 241. Tithes, their pcrpetiial obli^atinn, i. 143, 465, il. 361. Titles of God, otiicr.s ni ly liave in tiiem more

power and majesty, but none so nnicli mercy as

Jesiis, lii 213. Toad, said to stint Iiersolf in food for fear of eat-

injr up tlie eaitli. ii 11. Toitis, a Scoteli friar, made a sermon to prove

that tlie piiternoster nnglit be addiessed to

saints, ii. 307 Toledo, archbi.5liop of, liis settlement of a question,

ii. 500. Toleration of sin as culpable as perpetration, ii.

225. ToxGUR, Tamtvg of the. iii. 10, et seq. Tongue, of all tlio members l'\st jrrnws old, ii.407 ;

an excellent member, iii. 11 ; tlian a good, nothing better ; tban an evil, nothins; worse, 12;

fenced in with the lip-; and teotli, 14 ; even when

tameil is ai)t to have an unruly tricic, 17; like

the liand of a clock, shews how the heart goes

within. 19 Tophet, a resemblance of hell in three respects, i.

238. Trade, mammon's prime policy in, is to take ad-

vantnce of others' neces>ity orsimplicitv, ii. 328. Traders darken their shops to enable them to put

off inferior commodities, i. 14G. Tradesmen, their tricks, i. 7 ; fraudulent, ride over

men's heads, 87 ; h.ive one (lod for the church

and another for the shop, it>. ; cheating, are

thieves, ii. 243. Traditions, decbired by the Council of Trent to he

of equal authority witli the Sciiptures, ii 338. Traitors, seminaries and lenetrades, compared to

the serpent, as the enemy of mankind, ii. 32. Transmigration of souls, sense in whicli it is true,

i. 23). Transubstantiation, Bellarmine doubts whether it

can be proved from .Scripture, ii 528 ; cannot

be argued by appeal to the omnipotence of God,

iii. IVi. Treason and the nost monstrous sins turned by

the pope into virtue-", ii 3)0; a petty sin as

compared with sacrilege, MT. Tree, '\'uk IJ.vruiln', ii IGi, et seq. Tree, lives by the sap, not by the fruit; but is

known to live by the fruit, not by the sap, ii.

178 ; of life-, a type of Cliri^t, iii. 135 ; of life and

of knowledge were Adam's sacraments, 134;

(Questions conccrninfr, 135. Trinity, that the world worships is honour, plea-

sure, and riches, i. :-i7 ; popish image of. ii. 29) ;

doctrine <if, iii. 97 ; the 'I'rinity in unity, the

unity in Trinity, is the proper object ot worship,

98 Truth does not justify evil speaking, i. 187 ; and

peice; some nations have either M-ithout the

other, England has both, ii 332; are the chief

preservers of the soul under God, iii. 294. Turks live viciously in peace, but chastely In time

of war, i. 43 Twins, tl eir different fnrtun'^s shew the absurdity

of nativity-casting, &c , i. 11. Two Sons, Tiik, ii. 81, e( seq. Two faced men, innnsters, iii. 52. Tyrants are the kintrs of slaves, liberal princes the

kings of men, ii. 110.

{/■nSeZi'e/the root of all sins, as faith of all good works, ii. 558.

Unbeliever condemned already, by the purpose of God, by the word of God, by liisownconscience, 11. 5 J 6.

Undeanness more immediately than other sins derived from the devil, ii. 40.

Unction, given to kings piiests, and prophets, iii. 219; Christ's, not wiih material oil, but with grace, ib ; was repeated thi<!e times, in his conception, his liapti>m, his resurrection, ib.

Understanding, judicial liliniling of, i. 235; a sanctitied, is a limited lesemblance of the infinite God, ii. 375.

Ungodly, take most pleasure in the most dangerous sins. i. 201 ; would spare their purse at the expense of their conscience, ib ; suffered to remain mixed with the godly, for their own conversion and the exercise of the godly, ii. 392 ; are the rubbish wherewith the vessels of honour are scoured, ib.

Unity not an inseparable and undoubted mark of the true church, i. 413 ; the badge of Christianity, ii. 145 ; and concord the walls of the city of peace, 314 ; of the church not perfect in this life, 394 ; of God, iii. 96.

Universalily, IJome's argument of, refuted, ii. 204 ; of sin cat's for universality of repentance, else will bring down universal judgment, iii. 272.

Unihankfulness iov God'.s providence, the common curse of the world, iii 157.

Urim (science) Thummim (conscience) must he in the priest's bosom, ii. 116.

Usurers should be hunted like wolves,!. 17 ; compared to wheels, 74 ; ride over men's heads, 86 ; story of one, 128 ; will of one, 186 ; torment the commonwealth on earth, shall be tormented in hell, 220 ; are madmen, 281 ; and brokers compared to two mill-stones, 319 ; their studies, charnel-houses of men's bones and beasts' skins, ii. 196 ; are thieves, worse than Judas, 247 ; are a thorn in the side of the community, 481; said to charge 40 or even 100 per cent. ib.

Usury pictured, i 318 ; its profit, 346 ; compared to appetitus caiiinus, 484 ; by some to gout, t6. ; rone tolerable, but of grace and time, ii. 88 ; is theft, 96 ; is a coach, the devil the driver, covet-ousness and infidelity the horses, the journey to hell, 252 ; forbidden by God, 364 ; excuses for, 556.

Vzzah and Uzziah, their sins, ii 363.

Vainglory is madness, i. 286 ; compared to windi-ness in the stomach, 500.

Valentine, an Arian emperor, could not sign the decree for the banishment of Basil, iii. 62.

Vanity of eartlily greatness, iii. 63

Variety of illustrations used by Christ in his teaching, ii 70.

Veil of the temple, signi fication of its rending, ii. 99.

Vermin, good in their kinds, though sometimes noxious to us. iii. 157.

Vice is spiritual adultery,! 221 ; in the hearts of those who do not profess the gospel is simply sin, in the he-jrts of profes.sing Christians both sin and example, 2G4; is a poisonous serpent in the bosom, ii. 33

Vine, fruitles.s, of all trees most useless, ii. 184.

Vintners and victuallers grievously guilty who open their houses in prayer-time, ii 61.

Virgin, story of one who had the choice of three vessels, ii. 469.

Virtues, without Christ, are neither acceptable to God nor profitable to ourselves, iii. 231.

Visitation Skkmon, A, ii 264, et seq.

Visitation an episcopal function, ii 'J65 ; God hath a fourfold, of grace and mercy, of pity and compassion, of severity and correction, of wrath and fury, 272.

Vitellius, his voluptuousness. 1.101.

Voice, all the organs of, the lips, teeth, throat, and tongue, have a brand of wickedness, iii. 21.

Fo^up^uary laughs at the miser, the miser scorns the voluptuary, the Christian knows both to he ■wrong, ii. 91.

Voluptuousness and intemperance dig their graves with their teeth (Ticnch proverb), i. 137.

Vows, some lawful and laudable, i. 109 ; made In distress are often not paid, 111.

Wai.k, TnF Ci'TtrsTiAK's, ii. 403, et seq.

Walk, the devil's ii 46; 'in love,' not over it, nor across it, nor besidiit, nor near it, but in it, 407.

Wants, spiritual, illuEtiated by sen-ible, i. 333.

War, horrors of, i. 37, 419, ii. 332 ; unknown In England, i. 40. 419 ; sometimes just and necessary, 41; conditions of such, 42 ; should be pre-

823

pared for In pence. 44 ; Its liorrors nre only an Imperfect representation of tlie misery of the world under sin nnd Satan, iii. 201 ; (jod's, is all for pence, 'J92.

Warfare, Christians bound to, by tlie law of their profession, i. 89 ; encounij;cd to it by the example of those who have cone before, ib.

Waters, holy, of the Honianists, a special river of deceit, 165 ; absurdities of their defence of it, 166 ; of sin's banquet, ib. ; the figure of many heavenly tliincs, 107 ; also of sin in five partU cnlars, 1C8 ; but differ from it in tlirec, 170.

Watdifulness. necessity of, ii. 29.

Way Homk, Tiik, ii. 13, el seq.

Way. in divine graces, often dicniftcd with the title of tlie end, as faith is called life, grace is called falv.ition, the gospel is called the kingdom, &c , ii. 74.

Weakness, in us, gives Satan encouragement, i. 2J2 ; all proceeds originally from wickedness, 354, 43.i.

Wcaiih, ' a man of,' expressiveness of the phrase, i. 140 ; not wealth but covetonsness to be cast away, 141 ; not to be trusted, 149 ; never so dear to the godly but they can be content to forego it, 150 ; has made many prouder, none better, ib. ; abundant, brings no good to soul, body, or name, ii 139 ; erroneou.sly called sub-stance, 257 ; the covetous man's idol, 301; and wickedness rear of kin, 407 ; like a woman, the more courted the further off, 469 ; long a-brced-ing, soon extinct, iii. 53.

Weariness in well-doing, compared to shortness of breath, i 504.

Weather prognosticators, imposters and fools, i. 10.

• Weeds, evil, grow apace,' iii. 472 ; earth a mother to them, a stepmother to good herbs, ib.

WHrrE Devil, The, ii. 221, et seq.

^Vhore, compared to the cockatrice, i. 78.

Whoredom, a costly sin, i. 223; destructive of character, ib.; of health, 224 ; of the soul, 225, 279 ; encouraged by inferior magistrates, iii. 60.

Wicked, their joy is at the beginning, of the righteous at the end, i. 94 ; their punishments u.sually in the like, 218 ; in what sense said to be dead, 226 ; sometimes punished in this life, 232 ; always fooli.sli in four particulars, improvidence, affecting things hurtful, preferring trifles to things of weight, precii)itancy, 245 ; in what sense they accomplish God's will, ii. 94 ; compared in Scrip, ture to vinomous beasts and fowls, 118; points of their resemblance to wolves, 119 ; often prosperous, 123; may love the good, but not as good, or for their goodness, 165 ; compared to bad ground, for baseness, coldness, foulness, darkness, and chiefly for evil products, 472 ; commonly prove .so much the worse as they had opportunities of being better, 470 ; condemned not only by the evil deeds they have done, but also by the good they have not d jne, 5C5 ; may have outward blessings without inward, as the elect have inward without outward, iii. 7 ; in suffer. Ing, are either hearties.^ or desperate, or sottish, G7; their sin makes theui fit for God's anger, and his anger makes them fit fur destruction, 273.

Wi.low, story of one who was robbed by her physician, i. 388 439

Will, word, nnd deed. In God, are one, uL 117; freedom of, fourfold. 177.

Willingne.':.':, makes work easy. ii. 90.

Hind, earthquake, fire, and still small voice, exemplified under Henry VIII., Edward VI, Mary, and Elizabeth, i 66.

Hinder, Hobeit (one of the gunpowder-plotters), his dream, ii. 15.

Wisdom, like the rail, flies alone, fools, like rnrt-ridgcs, in coveys, i. 248 ; of God, unsearchable, iii. 222.

Wise, worldly, are most commonly foolish respect-ing heavenly blc-sings, i. 7 ; when niisrrable, are more miserable th.m fools, ii. 420; uU men think themselves, iii. 222.

Wil without Innocence will offend others, inno-

cence without wit will not defend onrsclvcs, IL 2S.

Witch of Endor, brought up Satan in the form of Samuel, ii. 51.

Woes, twofold, sin and judgment, i. 342.

Wolf axi> Lamb, Tub, ii. 109, etseq.

Wolves, in sheep skins, are the worst of the race, ii 121; said to flee from a man anointed with the fat of lions, 122.

Woman, the in>trumental cause of transgression and of salvation, i. 160 ; for the most part, hath a glibber tongue than man, iii 17 ; has a soul as well as man, 138; nft more wicked than man, ib.\ four mentioned in Christ's genealogy, all of whom had some blemish, 243.

Word of God, compared to honey, to leaven, to a hammer, to a sword, i. 359 ; jihysie to the sick, food to the whole, ib ; its spreading, 3G0 ; iti fruitfulncss, 301 ; sharp to the unrcgenerate palate, sweeter than honey to the sanctified soul, 363 ; Importance of intei-preting aright, 365 ; needs no undersetting, 371 ; like dew, makes either herbs or weeds spring up, ii 02; compared to rain, because it quenclics tlieburn-Ing heat of sin in us, and of God's anger for sin against us, quenches thirst, allays the wounds of fear, cleanses the air, softens the heart, and causes feitility, 439 ; tails not on any ground in vain, 473.

Wort's, in the worst there is wickedness, In the best, weakness, in all, error, i 52 ; do not determine a man to damnation or bliss, but distinguish those so determined, 265; must be wrought by the Christian, not as a servant, but a son, ii 82 ; all have their own to do, 87 ; none meritoriou.s, yet none transient, 89 ; good, make not a man righteous, but a righteous man does good works, 178 ; tlie best are to relieve the living temples of God, 503.

Tl'orM, the Christian's thoroughfare, not his home, i. 27 ; seeks to steal the heart, 26o ; its thief-like qualities, ib. ; old age of, 329 ; like a bee or an epigram, has a sting in its tail, 402 ; assumes different disguises, 403 ; a good servant, but a bad master, 4o4 ; not an evil, but the abuse and e.ttravagant love of it, 432 ; its picture as seen by those who have peace of conscience and joy in the Holy Ghost, ii. 27; contiast between its works and God's, 79 ; full of good wishes, heaven of good works, 442; scarcely one-sixth Christian, whereof the pope challengeth half, 503; its inconstancy, iii. 3 ; like an artichoke, ib. ; compared to the sea, 42; all are either strangers or stragglers in it, 47 ; compared to a sea of glass, 54 ; conjectured to have been made in spring, 124; a great man, and we are a little world, 131.

TrwM/ine.« vitiates the affections, f lie understanding, the conscience, the faith, i. 431.

Worldlings, come to church, but not to worship, i. 110 ; are fools in two lespcct.s, ii. 120 ; are unfit for heaven, 132 ; not God, nor heaven, nor angels, hut devils *re(iuire' their souls, 133; esteem Christians fools, but Christians know them to be, 378; always a-building, 504; like diunk men, think every shadow a block on the way to heaven, nnd dare not venture, iii. 50 , canivot be weaned from the world, even by afflictions, 209.

Worms, God created, and therefore docs not hate, iii. 32.

Worship, that superstitious, which makes tbewor-sliippers miserable, iii. 134.

' Wralh of tlie Lamb' Is his justice, Iii. 72 ; not pa-sion, but perfection, 73.

Wnliutjs, human, inferiority of, to the Scriptures, i. 373.

Xerxes, his letter of defiance to Mount Atho.s, i. 476.

Years, three in which fruit was sought from the fig-tree, vaiiou>ly explained, with nfeience to the Jews, ii. 171; applied to England under

INDEX.

Edward VI., Elizabeth and James, ib. ; to individual man, in youth, middle age. and old age, 172.

Yoke, more palls the unyielding neck than the patient, ii 91.

Young man, in the ffospel, acknowledged Christ as 'Good Master,' till he required a sacrifice, iii. 230.

Youth, indicates the dispositions of the man, i. 12.

Zacharias, in what his righteousness consisted, ii. 399; not in absolute sinlessness, for, as a priest, he had to offer sacrifice for his own sin, 400 ; at

first entertained with doubt what he afterwards received with joy, iii 252.

Zeal, some have a true of a false religion, and otliers a false of a true religion, i. 63; the best sacrifice that can be offered to Grid, 375; may be either in excess or defect, ib. ; discretion and perseverance essential to a minister, ii. Ill ; and meekness necessary for a visitor, 267.

Zion, the city of the living God, its attractions, ii. 494; its inhabitants, 495 ; its present blessings, the favour of God, joy of the Spirit, peace of conscience, 499.

Zodiac, signs of, witticism upon, iii. 162.

II. SCRIPTURE TEXTS.

Gen. i. 26,

ii. 15,

ii. 17,

ii. 23,

iii. 4,

iii. 4.

iii. 6,

iii. 7,

iii. 14,

iii. 15,

iii. 18,

iii. 19,

iv. 20,

V. 3,

Ti. 4,

vi. 4,

vi. 7,

ix. 22,

XV. 16,

xvi. 4,

xviii. 6,

sviii. 32,

xxii. 2,

xsv. 27,

xsvi. 34,

xsvii. 21,

xsvii, 36,

xxvii. 39,

xsvii. 40,

xxvii. 41,

xxviii. 22,

xxxi. 21,

xxxii. 10,

xxxvii. 25,

xl. 16,

xlvii. 9.

xlviii. 14,

xlviii. 14,

xlix. 3,

EsoJ. ii. 14,

viii. 25,

viii. 10,

X. 23,

XV. 11,

XX. 6,

xxii. 30.

XXV. 2,

XXX. 34,

XXX. 34,

xxxi. 21,

xxxii. 1,

III. 131

II. 96 I. 226

III. 140 I. 205

II. 363

II. 180 I. 56

II. 225

III. 186 I. 57

II. 96 1.190 1.255 1.234

II. 382 I. 51 1.187 1.266 1.140

II. 87 1.193 I. 207

1.1,19 1.264 I. 68 I. 19 1.301 1.313 I. 6 1.143 1.376 1.152 1.378

ir. 15 1.138 1.156

II. 86

II. 534

I. 72 II. 58 II. 357

1.210 I. 295 II. 187 II. 536 1. 46

II. 347 II. 430 II. 3 n. 129

Ex.xxxii. 1,

xxxii. 4,

xxxii. 11,

x.xxii. 4,

xxxii. 7,

xxxii. 10,

xxxii. 32,

xxxiv. 6,

xxxiv. 6,

Levit. X. 2,

X. 3,

xiii. 45,

xix. 30,

Xxiii. 32,

xxvii. 26,

Num.iii. 45,

xi. 29,

xvi. 22,

xxiii. 20,

xxiii. 19,

xxiv. 17,

XXV. 2,

xxvi. 29,

xxvi. 54,

xxxii.

XXXV. 33,

Deut. V. 5,

vi. 8.

viii. 10,

viii. 13,

xi. 14,

xi. 18,

xvi. 16,

xvi. 19,

xxviii. 28,

xxix. 29,

xxxii. 6,

xxxii. 31,

xxxii. 31,

Josh. i. 6,

viii.

xxiv. 15.

Jud. i.

Y. 8, 9, v. 23, V. 30, vii. 13, vii. 17, ix. 13, ix. 15, ix. 20,

11.292

I. 37

HI. 273

1.321

II. 169 III. 275

II. 540 III. 112 III. 213

II. 86

III. 110

1.442

1.106

1.315

II. 536

II. 534 1.458

II. 169

1.304

III. 188

II. 3

II. 357 1.377 III. 155 1.377 1.184

II. 574 1.124 1.135 1.308 III. 161 1.412

II. 9 1.147 1,271 I. 502 1.395 I. 89 III. 68

II. 549 I. 28

II. 204

II. 370 I. 35 I. 324 1. 92

II. 15 I. 47 1.391

II. 129 I. 13

Jud. ix. 48,

X. 6,

xiii. 22,

xiv. 14,

xvi. 2,

Ruth iv. 15,

1 Sam.ii. 17,

iv. 7,

V. 3,

xii. 3,

XV. 3,

XV. 13,

XV. 14,

xvi. 11,

xvii. 1,

xvii. 45,

xxi.

xxi. 9,

xxi. 13,

xxii. 19,

xxiv. 17,

XXV. 33,

xxviii. 14,

2 Sam. xii.

xvi. 11, xvi. 18, xviii, 22, xviii. 33, xxiv. 17, xxiv. 24, xxiv. 24, 1 Kings i. 50, ii. 28, iii. 12, V. 14, vii. 23, xi. 30, xiii. 9, xiii. 11, XV. 30, 6, 7, 11, 11, 15,

3, 4.

XVII.

xix.

xix.

xix.

xix.

xxi.

xxi. xxii. 11, xxii. 12, xxii. 18, xxii. 31,

II. 53

I. 39

III. 248

1.429

1.360

I. 295

11. 289

1.275

II. 293

II. 34

II. 363

1.367

1.435

III, 79

1.295

III. 105

I. 28

III. 174

1.291

I. 187

II. 317

III. 211

II. 51

II. 193

11. 461

II. 204

I. 176

III. 103

II. 356

II. 11

II. 466

1.126

I. 126

III. 136

II. 269

III. 39

1.335

II. 358

II. 213

II. 223

I. 83

II. 47

1. 66

II. 103

1.317

III. 537

I. 201

1.375

1.205

I. 72

II. 395

82i

2 Kings ii. 11, ii. 23, iv. 34,

T.

▼. 1,

V. 7,

▼.16,

▼.18,

▼.18,

Tiii. 11,

viii. 13,

▼iii. 20,

ix. 22,

X. 15,

X. 23,

xiv. 9,

TY. 16,

xix. 35,

XX. 11,

XX. 13,

xxiii. 10,

1 Chr. xi. 13,

xi. 19,

xiii. 18,

xxix. 14,

2 Chr. xi. 4,

xvi. 12,

xsiv. 13,

XXV. 9,

xxvi. 18,

xxxiii. 7,

Neb. iv. 3,

Est. Job

Ps,

Xlll. o,

iii. 5,

vii. 10,

i. 10,

i. 21,

ii. 3,

vi. 4,

Til. 20,

xii. 7,

xii. 7,

xii. 7,

xiii. 7,

XV. 34,

XV, 34,

xvii. 14,

six. 21,

XX. 11,

XX. 14,

XX. 15,

xxi. 10,

XXV. 19,

xxvi. 7,

xxvii. 17,

xxxi. 9,

xxxi. 21,

xxxi. 27,

xxxi. 38,

xxxiii. 17,

xiii. 6,

i. 1,

i. 1,

i. 1,

ii. 9,

vii. 6,

vii. 14,

▼iii. 5,

X. 5,

xi. 3,

xii. 2,

1.168

I. 72

II. 4'^3

1.354

11.355

II. 186

III. 172

I. 36

II. 357

II. 354

II. 408

1.313

I. 40

II. 262

1.192

I. 75

1.180

I. 38

1.133

1.260

1.238

1.295

1.174

II. 363

1.144

in. 164

1.376

I. 353

II. 249

II. 364

11.294

II. 329

I. 1

1.179

1,331

I. 219 1.130 1.150

n. 400

m. 268

1.217

II. 341

II. 383 III. 160

II. 298

1.147

n. 243

1.256

II. 428

II. 59

I. 74

n. 412

II. 123

III. 9

11.437

II. 139

I. 279

II. 34

J. 130

1.213

1.426

I. 49

1. 72

1.391

II. 62 I. 362

II. 194 1.219

III. 136 III, 186

ir. 361 II. 258

Ps.

XII.

xiv.

xvii

4,

i.ai,

33,

1,

12,

9.

9. 14,

3, 11,

6, 25, 25, 37,

xviii

xix.

xix.

XXii. 29,

xxiii. 6,

xxv. 4,

XXV. 13,

xxvi. 6,

xxvii. 7,

xxxii. 7,

xxxii.

xxxii.

xxxiv.

XXXV.

xxxvi.

xxxvii.

xxxvii.

xxxvii

xxxvii

xxxvii. 37,

xii. 11,

xiv. 4,

xiv. 7,

xiv. 13,

xiv. 14,

xlviii. 2,

xlix. 7,

xlix. 11,

xlix. 11,

1.12,

1.22,

Ii. 4,

Ii. 4,

Ii. 5,

Ii. 10,

Ii. 15,

Ii. 17,

Iii. 8,

Iviii. 4,

Iviii. 4,

lix. 10,

Ixii. 10,

Ixv. 10,

Ixvi. 12,

Ixvi. 12,

Ixvi. 13,

Ixvi. 18,

Ixix. 27,

Ixix. 28,

Ixxiii. 5,

Ixxiii. 9,

Ixxiii. 12,

Ixxiii. 18,

Ixxiii. 18,

Ixxiii. 19,

Ixxviii. 3,

Ixxx. 4,

Ixxx. 13,

Ixxxi. 14,

Ixxxiv. 10,

Ixxxiv. 10,

Ixxxv. 10,

xci. 11,

IxxxiX. 33,

xci v. 19,

xrv. 11,

xcviii. 1,

cii. 20,

ciii. 14,

II. 194

1.271 II. 20

1. 89

I. 65 II. 352 II. 179

1.156

II. 376 J. 30 I. 125

II. 288

I. 63

I. 275 11.118

1. 40 1. 60 I. 84 1.224

II. 12

III. 8 I. 94

II. 68

III. 250

I. fc9

III. 219

1.398

III. 'SS'6

II. 285

II. 93

1. 222

III. 47

I. 101

1.241

II. 351

III. 184

I. 255

I. 262

III. 18

1.122

111. 55

I. 71

II. 26

1.115

II. 407 111.161

I. 81

I. 90

1. 98

II. 101

I. 438

Ii. 539

n. 123

Ii. 439

111. 154

1.217

1.315

1.162

I. 104

III. 265

I. 17

111.286

III. 77 1. 102 1.214

11. 1P9

III. 273

III. 280

1.343

I. 98

I. 95

III. 104

Ps. civ.

civ.

cvi.

cvii.

cxvi.

cxvi.

cxvi.

cxviii.

cxix.

cxix.

cxix.

cxxi.

cxix.

cxxiv.

cxxiv.

cxxvi.

cxxx.

exxxiii.

cxxxiii.

exxxiii.

cxxxv.

cxxxvi.

cxxxvii.

cxxxvii.

cxxxix.

cxxxix.

cxxxix.

cxli.

cxliv.

cxiiv.

cxlvi.

cxiviii.

cxlviii.

cxiviii.

Prov. i.

iii.

iii.

iii.

V.

vn. viii.

XI.

xiii. xiv. xiv. xiv.

XV. XV.

xvi. xvii. xviii.

xix.

xix.

xix.

xix.

xxi.

xxii. xxiii. xxiii. xxiv.

xxv. xxvi. xxvi. xxNi.

13,

23, 13,

5. 12, 15, 27, 90, 106, 136,

6, 136,

1,

7,

5,

4,

1,

1,

2,

6,

0,

4,

8,

7,

7,

16, •J

3,' 3, 4,

7, 12, 24, 16, 16, 16, 16, 22, 26, 33. 13, 22,

4, 17, 17, 17. 18, 24,

7,

9, 13, 27,

3, 17,

4, 12, 14,

4,

4, 10, 23, 17, 22,

5,

5, 24, 11. 17, 18, 18,

11. 413

II. 87 1.112 I. 99

I. 117 I. 135 I. 93 1.114

11. 4:38

1.108

1.347

III. 163

11. 303

1. 106

III. 32

11. 373

I. 61 1.397

II. 33 III. 219

1. 343

III. 3 III. 25

11. 370 I. 64 11. 255 II. 538 II. 10 I. 399

II. 4U2 I. 292 I. 130

II. 83 1.135 I. 67 I. 119 1.137 1.148 1.246 I. l:i7 I. 2:.5 I. 224 I. 221

III. 225 11.318

I. 158 1.175 1.198 1.215 11.278 II. 248 1.245 1.351 1.194 1.118 I.-'43 III. 119 I. 83 1.437 1.434 11. 138 1.117 I. 428 1.191 II. 327 1.432 III. 3 1.604 II. 113 II. 149 I. 76

INDEX.

Prov. XX xxviii. sxviii.

XXX XXX.

xxxi. Eccl. i.

V.

Vll.

vii. vii.

vii.

vij. 1, 25.

Cant.

VI.

vi.

vi.

vi.

vii.

Isaiah i.

i.

i.

XI.

xiv. xiv. xvii, xix. six.

XX,

. xsi,

xxvi,

.Xsviii.

28, 29,

8,

4, 1^, 12, 19,

1,

2, 17, 25, 29,

3. 19,

9,

9,

9,

9,

2,

6, 14, 17,

1,

3,

4,

4,

8, 15, 15, 16,

1,

4, 10, 11, 11, 12,

1,

5, 10, 10,

1,

1,

8, 10, 11, 12,

9,

9, 12, 14,

9,

4,

7. 20, 22, 13, 14,

6,

6.

4, 16, 11, 12, 14,

3,

11,12. 19, 21,

1.236 1.355

1.243 1.117 I. 75 1.1215 1.433 1. 100 1.319 II. 147 1.148 1.227 1.218 1.248 1.275 I. 262 1.254 II. 129 I. 67 1.216 I. 29:1 II. 349 I. 67 1.398 1.361 II. 57 II. 436 I. 360 1.173 II. 446 II. 414 11. 10 II. 353 1.395 II. .14 II. 198 II. 57 II. 212 II. 402 1.409 1.160 II. 10 1.406 II. 114 1.398 II. 216 1.397 I. 413

II. 475 1.342

II. 348 1.422 1.395

II. 345 1.212

11. 474

II. 179 1.186 I. 193 1.437 III. 209 III. 5

II. 151 1.491

II. 135 I. 95

III. 173 1.476 I. 335 1.294 I. 58

III. 112

.18, 7, 4, 6, 8, 2, 6, 2,

Isa. xxriii. 24,

xxix. 8,

xxix. 9,

xxix. 16,

XXX. 5,

XXX. 10,

XXX. 21,

XXX. 33,

xxxiii. 15,

xxxvi. 5,

xl. 12,

xl. 31,

xliii. 11,

xliii. 11,

xliii. 14,

xliii. 24,

xliv. 3,

xiv. ■

xl>

xlix.

xlix.

1.

liii.

liii.

Iv.

hi. 12,

Ivii. 2,

Ivii. 20,

Iviii. 3,

lix. 2,

lix. 3,

lix. 7,

lix. 14,

Ixiii. 10,

Ixv. 2,

Ixvi. 3,

Ixvi. 3,

Ixvi. 3,

!r. ii. 23,

ii. 24,

ii. 25,

iv. 10,

iv. 14,

iv. 22,

iv. 22,

v.

V. 1, V. 1, V. 1,

vi. 0,

vi. 15,

vii. 4,

vii. 9,

vii. 18,

viii. 12,

viii. 22,

viii. 22,

viii. 22,

viii. 22,

ix. 1,

is. 17,

ix. 23,

ix. 24,

XV. 1, XV. 1,

xvii. 7, xvii. 9, xvii. 9, xvii. 11. xviii. 13, XX. 14, xj^ii. 15,

III. 273

II. 15

1.166

1.201

1.218

1.386

I. 67

1.238

I. 244

II. 42

II. 6

II. Ill

HI. 213

in. 226

II. 84

II. 424

1.203

III. 123

1.313

1.379

1.450

II. 31

n. 212

II. 19

1.207

1.312

1.316

1.478

1.324

II. 258

I. 74

I. 14

II. 128

III. 269

II. 37

1.123

II. 346

II. 458

I. 18

1.275

1.212

II. 337

1.496

I. 7

III. 20

I. 49

1.347

I. 444

III. 272

I. 39

I. 213

II. 101

I. 100

II. 129

II. 66

1.329

1.358

1.394

I. 422

1.172

1.416

1.501

III. 121

II. 181

II. 204

III. 94

II. 256

III. 200

II. 401

1.319

1.297

1.305

Jer. xxii. 18,

xxii. 29,

xxii. 30,

xxiii.lO,

xxiii. 29,

XXV. 29,

xxxi, 4,

xxxi. 22,

XXXV. 7,

xli. 17,

xliv. 17,

xlvi. 11,

Lam. i. 12.

i. 15,

i. 20,

iv. 5,

iv. 20,

Ezek. i. 7,

i. 28,

ii. 3,

iii. 18,

iv. 1,

V. 16,

vi. 11,

ix. 6,

xii. 27,

xiii. 9,

xiii. 10,

xiv. 14,

XV, 3,

xvi, 14,

xvi, 42,

xvi. 45,

xviii. 2,

xviii. 25,

xviii. 32,

xxii. 12,

xxiv, 18,

xxviii. 2,

xxviii. 3,

xxxiii. 11,

xxxvi. 26,

xxxvii. 7,

Dan. ii. 32,

iii. 18,

V. 2,

vi. 4,

vi. 22,

viii. 14,

ix. 26,

xii. 3,

xii. 13,

Hos, ii. 19,

ii. 21,

iv. 15,

vi. 4,

vi. 9,

vii. 4,

vii. 11,

viii. 4,

ix. 7,

xiv. 3,

i. 4,

ii. 2,

ii. 13,

ii. 14,

ii. 14,

iii. 18,

Amos i. 2,

ii. 8,

ii. 13,

iii. 5,

Joel

827

INDEX.

Luke xix. 10,

xix. 10,

six. 17,

xix. 40,

xxii. 42,

xxiii. 25,

xxiii. 28,

xxiii. 5'3,

xxiv. 15,

xxiv.

xxiv. 32,

John i. 1,

i. 29,

i. 41,

i. 47,

iii.16,

iii. 49,

iv. 18,

iv. 22,

iv. 39.

V. 17,

V. 40,

vi. 44,

vi. 49,

vi. 68,

vii. 7,

vii. 48,

viii. 7,

viii. 7,

viii. 48,

ix. 31,

ix. 32,

ix. 41,

ix. 41,

X. 17,

xi. 25,

sii. 6,

xiii. 1,

xiii. 37,

xiv. 2,

xiv. 2,

xiv. 2,

xiv. 2,

xiv, 6,

Xiv. 6,

xiv. 8,

Xiv. 11,

xiv. 15,

xiv. 18,

XV. 5,

XV. 12,

XV. 20,

xvi. 23,

xvii. 9,

xvii. 11,

xvii. 24,

xvii, 24,

xviii. 36,

xix, 11,

xix. 22,

xix. 34,

XX. 17.

Acts i, 18,

i. 24,

i. 25,

ii. 9,

ii. 17,

iv. 17,

iv. 35,

iv. 35,

V. 41,

v. 41,

II. 14

II. 209

II. 570

II. 108 III. 258

II. 315 II. 431

1.140 II. 200

I. 28 II. 76

III. 234 LT. 113 II. 14

1.211 II. 366

I. 235 II. 294

III. 98 II. 187

II. 175 1.326

II. 191-197 II. 114 II. 155 1.466

II. 6 1.279

II. 223 II. 187

III. 277 II. 235

1.236 II. 382

II. 425 II. 106 II. 221

1.400 1.226 I. 27 1,336 1.352

II. 252 1.362

II. 217

I. 119 in. 234

1.116 II. 137

III. 231

II. 420 II. 153 II. 575

III. 2(18 1.389

II. 573

III. 83 II. 72 II. 61

I. 146

1.398

m. 99

I. 75 II. 254

1.214 1.374

II. 16 1.360 1.380

II. 3 II. 93

n. 155

Acts vii. 59,

viii. 20,

ix. 4,

ix. 4,

xii. 15,

xiii. 7,

xiii. 10,

xiii. 33,

xiii. 46,

xiv.

xiv. 17,

xiv. 19,

XV. 36,

xvi. 29,

xvii. 18,

xvii. 24,

xvii. 27,

xvii. 28,

xvii. 28,

xvii. 28,

xvii. 28,

xvii. 31,

xviii. 15,

xix. 24,

XX. 31,

xxi. 11,

xxiii. 8,

xxvi. 27,

xxvii. 23,

xxvii. 31,

xxviii. 15,

Rom. i. 20,

i. 20,

i. 28,

i. 32,

ii. 12,

ii. 16,

iii. 2,

iii. 4,

iii, 13,

iii. 22,

V. 1,

V. 3,

V. 7,

V. 12,

vi. 2,

vi. 16,

vi. 21,

vi. 23,

vi. 23,

vi. 23,

vii. 7,

vii. 22,

viii. 6

viii. 9,

viii. 15,

viii. 16,

viii. 16,

viii. 16,

viii. 18,

viii. 22,

viii. 22,

viii. 24,

viii. 28,

viii. 29,

viii. 29,

viii. 36,

viii. 38,

viii. 39,

ix. 1,

ix. 3,

ix. 20,

m. 150 II. 139

I. 38

I. 85 II. 518 II. 474

1.266 n. 533 1.368 1.152 III. 165 II. 147 n. 264

I. 54 II. 74 II. 286 II. 553

1.211 1.225 1.431

II. 336 II. 214

1.465

II. 163 1.460

III. 25 1.209

II. 201

II. 535 III. 193

II. 48 1. 2 1.235 I. 271

III. 50 II. 553 II. 547 II. 555

1.411

I. 73 II. 569 II. 333

1.261 II. 422 III. 194

I. 228

II. 90 1.220

II. 186 1.400 II. 350 III. 198 1.404 I. 228 1.325 1.395 I. 63 II. 304 II. 513 II. 455 I. 442 II. 355 II. 277 1.354 III. 227 ii. 533 1.^06 1.401 ni. 5 II. 638 n. 541 n. 182

Rom.

X. 1, X. 9, X. 14, X. 15, X. 15, 1,

Xll.

xii. 1,

xii. 1,

xii. 2,

xii. 6,

xii. 16,

xii. 18,

xii. 19,

xii. 20,

xiii. 2,

xiii. 4,

xiii. 5,

xiii. 8,

xiii. 8,

xiii. 10,

xiii. 12,

xiii. 12,

Xiii. 12,

xiii. 14,

xiii. 14,

xiv. 11,

xiv. 17,

xiv. 17,

XV. 4,

xvi. 19,

1 Cor. i. 11,

i. 23,

i. 24,

i. 26,

ii. 5,

ii. 8,

ii. 9,

ii. 14,

ii. 14,

iii. 11,

iii. 12,

iii. 13,

iii. 18,

iii. 21,

iii. 22,

iv. 4,

iv. 4,

iv. 10,

iv. 13,

V. 5,

T. 5,

V. 7,

V. 10,

V. 13,

vi. 9,

vi. 13,

vi. 15,

vi. 15,

vi. 15,

vi. 18,

vi. 20,

viii. 1,

viii. 1,

viii. 6,

IX. 1, ix. 9, ix 11, ix. 16, ix. 20, ix. 24, X. 7, X.17,

INDEX..

829

1 Cor. xi. 10,

xi. 19, xi. 19, xi. 30, xi. 30, xii. 3, xii. 20, Xiii. 2, xiii. 6> xiii. 8, xiii. 13, XV. 8, XV. 10, XV. 18, XV. 31, XV. 32, XV. 32, XV. 41, XV. 46, XV. 50, XV. 50, XV. 52, XV. 55, XV. 55, xvi. 5, xvi. 22,

2 Cor. ii. 16,

ii. 17, iii. 6, iii. 9, iv. 2, iv. 3, iv. 3, iv. 4, iv. 4, iv. 4, iv. 9, iv. 17, iv. 18, V.17, V. 20, T. 20, V. 20, vi. 16, vi. 16, vi. 17, vii. 5, ix. 6, X. 4, X. 5, xi. 2, xi. 2, xi. 14, xiii. 11, xiii. 11, xiii. 13, GaL i. S, i. 16, i.l6, ii. 9. ii. 17, ii. 20, ii. 20, ii. 20, iii. 1, iii. 3, iii. 22, iii. 22, iii. 24, iii. 27, iv. 1, Iv. 4,

n. 521 II. 146 11. 394

I. 226

I. 3.';4 III. 1:30

1.397

I. 236 1.489

II. 397 II. 274 II. 95

II. 270

II. 106 II. 115

I. 3(i9 1.391 1.13S

III. 224 1.256

III. 81

II. 551 I. 64

I. 4-28

II. 126

III. 256 1.457 1.371

II. 388 II. 103

1.453 1.353

II. 69 1.270

II. 158 II. 504 1.300

I. 97

III. 130

II. 30 I. 66 I. 364

I. 389 II. 284

1.107

II. 84

III. 287

II. 373 II. 42

1.359

I. 1C9 1.401 1.208

II. 311 II. 332 II. 200 1.371 II. 90 II. Ill

I. 229

II. 207 HI. 87

1.4-30 IT. 4:30 1.363

II. 408 II. 206

in.205 II. 3

III. 2a3 II. 85 U. 210

Gal. iv. 4, iv. 9, iv. 19, iv. 24-29, iv. 26, iv. 26, iv. 29, V. 6, V. 6, V. 7. V. 9, V. 12, V. 13, V. 13, V. 17, V. 19, V. 22, V. 22, V. 26, vi. 6, vi. 6, vi. 6, vi. 7, vi. 7, vi. 16, Eph. i. 3, i. 4, i. 11, i. 18, i. 18, ii. 2, ii. 2, ii. 5, ii. 15, ii. 21, iii. 10, iii. 10, iii. 15, iii. 18, iv. 4, iv. 5, iv. 8, iv. 11, iv. 12, iv. 12, iv. 13, iv. 1.5. iv. 19, iv. 24, iv. 26, iv. 30, iv. 30, iv. 30, V. 2, v. 2, V. 6, V. 6, V. 11, V. 15, v. 27, vi. 11, vi. 11, vi. 11, vi. 12, vi. 13, vi. 15, vi. 19, Phil. ii. 1, ii. 6, ii. 12, ii. 12, ii. 12,

II. 81'

1. 70

II. 90

111.134

11.423 11.119 II. 76 1.462

I. -yiVi II. 530

1.191 1.212 1.498 1.169 1.396

II. 1.32

II. 511 1.244

I. 296 1.448

II. 2.37 II. 4.'-.8

III. J66

I. 506

II. 513

I. 86

III. 221

II. 402 II. 99

1.409

II. 399 II. 100

1.369

I. 85

II. 299 1.400

II. 325 I. 412 1.123

III. 12

II. 281 n. 160

I. 84

II. 551 u. 391

I. 99 1.169 1.431 1.458

II. 76

III. 146 11.546

II. 344 II. 16

• 11.343 111.164

II. 67

I. 51 1.23.5

II. 366 11.264

II. 218

II. 180

III. 190

III. 195 II. 113

I. 401 1.413

II. 211 II. 378 II. 613 1.376

II. 675 11.535

I. 382 11.530

1 Tim. vi. 9, vi. 10, vi. 17, vi. 17, vi. 19,

2Tim.ii.]5, ii. 19, iii. 4, iii. 12, iii. 16, iv. 1, 7, 5, ii. 11, ii. 15,

Titus

Heb.

iii. «,

i. 1.

i. 3,

i. 12,

i. 14,

i. 14,

ii. 11,

ii. 16,

iii. 6,

iii. 13,

iii. 13,

iv. 12,

iv. 13,

iv. 15,

iv. 16,

iv. 16,

V. 7,

7,

6,

7,

7,

VI.

vi. «, vi. 8, vii. 7, vii. 19, viii. 10, ix. 14, ix. 14, ix. i.'6, ix. 27, X. 7, X. 19, X. 19, X. 26, X.26, X.28, X. 29, X.36,

xn. xii. xii. xii. xii. xii. 8, x.i. 10, xii. 16, xii. 22,

1.483 1.402 1.149 1.202

II. 412 1.365

II. 539 1.276 III. 296 1.373 1.384 1.435

II. 530 III. 207 1.219 I. 3-25 I. 65 1.361

IIL 71

II. 200

III. 82

II. 267

II. 514

II. 493

1.446

II. 363

I. 359

II. 549

1.341

III. 29

III. 61

II. 215

II. 425

II. 63

11.435

IT. 447-457

II. 471

II. 485

II. 110

III. 203

1.392

1.208

I. 409 n. 434 II. S4l

1.100

II. 22 II. 100

II. 55 n. 389

1.237 u. 3S

1. 605 II. 348 II. 275 II. 494

1. 83 II. 20

III. £8 1.395 1.436

III. 26 ni. 97

I. 22

II. 493

Heb. xii. 23.

xii. 23,

xii. 23,

xii. 24,

xii. 29,

xiii. 4,

xiii. 8,

xiii. 16,

xiii. 16,

James i. 15,

i. 18,

i. 25,

ii. 13,

ii. 16,

iii. 8,

iv. 7,

iv. 13,

V. 24,

V. 20,

1 Peter i. 13, i. 18, i. 23,

ii. 2, ii. 2, ii. 7, iii. 6, iii. 8, iii. 16, ii-. 18, iv. 17, iv. 18, iv. 19, v. 3, V. 4, v. 5, V. 8, V. 8,

2 Peter i. 1,

i. 4,

i. 6,

i. 10,

i. 11.

i. 20,

ii. 4,

ii. 21,

iii. 3,

iii. 4,

iii. 4,

iii. 9,

iii. 10,

iii. 10,

1 John i. 5,

i. 6,

i. 8,

ii. 15,

ii. 27,

ii. 28,

iii. 1,

iii. 3,

iii. 8,

iii. 9,

iii. 17,

iii. 17,

iii. 18,

iv. 4,

I. 268 II. 390 III. 7 II. 438 II. 78 1.185 ni. 1 1.123 in. 221 I. 75 n. 511 I. 103 1.323 n. 407 III. 10 n. 32 ir. 124 1. 331 1.454 1.359 II. 427 II. 526 1.363 U. 5-'4 1.273 II. 5o2 II. 398 1.460 1.430 II. 102 II. 479 III. 23 1.449 1. 397 1.151 1.220 II. 45 1.362 1.431 II. 281 1. 63 III. 78 I. 65 1.252 ii. 490 1.444 1. 309 II. 386 1.273 1.197 1.333 1. 120 1.443 III. 198 1.403 II. 383 II. 548 HI. 101 1.269 1.325 1.262 1.116 1.432 II. 558 in. 114

1 John iv. 18

iv. 20,

V. 4,

v. 16,

V. 29,

3 John

Jude

Rev

9, 3,

12,

22,

20,

ii. 4,

ii. 7,

ii. 17,

ii. 25,

iii. 7,

iii. 10,

iii. 15,

iii. 16,

iii. 17,

iii. 17,

iii. 20,

iii. 20,

iv. 6,

iv. 12,

V. 8,

vi. 2,

vi. 10,

vi. 16,

vii. 9,

vii. 14,

vii. 14,

xii. 7,

xii. 3,

xii. 7,

xiii. 13,

xiv. 1,

xiv. 4,

xiv. 13,

xiv. 13,

xiv. 13,

XV. 2,

xvii. 1.

xvii. 2,

xvii. 9,

xviii. 6,

xix. 7,

xix. 16,

xix. 18,

xix. 20,

XX. 6,

XX. 6,

XX. 12,

XX. 12,

xxi. 2,

xxi. 4,

xxi. 8,

xxi. 12,

xxi. 22,

xxi. 25,

xxi. 27,

xxi. 27,

xxi. 27,

xxii. 14,

xxii. 11,

xxii. 11,

END OF ADAMS's PRACTICAL WORKS.

ERRATxV AND SUGGESTED ElVIENDATIONS.

SERMONS AND TREATISES

SAMUEL WARD, B.D.,

SYDNEY SUSSEX COL., CAMBRIDGE ; PEEACHER OF IPSWICH.

^iflj Itcmoir

By the rev. J. C. RYLE, B.A.,

OBRier CBOBCH, oxford; VICAB of 6TBADBB0KK, SUFFOLK.

(Reprinted from the Edition of 1636.)

EDINBURGH: JAMES NICHOL.

LONDON: JAMES NISBET AND CO. DUBLIN: W. ROBERTSON.

M.DCCC.LXn<

CONTENTS.

PAOK

Memoik of Samuel W.vkd, B.D., t

SERMONS.

I. Christ IS All IN All Col. III. 11, .... 3

The Life of Faith 17

The Life of Faith in Death 42

The First Seemon Rev. VI. 7, 8, .... 52

The Second Sermon Rev. VI. 9 61

A Coal from the Altar Rev. III. 19, .... 71

Balm from Gilead to Recover Conscience Heb. XIII. 18,. ... 95

Jethro's Justice of Peace Exod. XVIII. 21, 22, 23, 115

A Peace-Offering to God ; or, A Thanksgiving for the Prince's Safe

Return 1 Thess. V. 18, ... 136

Woe to Drunkards Prov. XXHL 29, 32, . 149

The Happiness OF Practice John XIII. 17, . . . 103

MEMOIR OF SAMUEL WARD.

The writer whose sermons and treatises I have undertaken to preface by a historical memoir, is one comparatively unknown to most readers of English theology. This is easily accounted for. He wrote but little, and what he wrote has hitherto never been reprinted. Owen, Baxter, Gurnal, Charnock, Goodwin, Adams, Brooks, Watson, Grecnhill, Sibbes, Jenkyn, Manton, Burroughs, Bolton, and others, have been reprinted, either wholly or partially. Of Samuel Ward, so far as I can ascertain, not a word has been reprinted for more than two hundred years.

How far Samuel Ward's sermons have deserved this neglect, I am content to leave to the judgment of all impartial students of divinity into whose hands this volume may fall. But 1 venture the opinion, that it reflects little credit on the discretion of repub-lishers of old divinity that such a -writer as Samuel Ward has been hitherto passed over. His case, however, docs not stand alone. When such works as those of Swinnock, Arrowsmith on John i., Gouge on Hebrews, Airay on Philippians, John Rogers on 1 Peter, Hardy on 1 John, Daniel Rogers on Naaman the Syrian (to say nothing of some of the best works of Manton and Brooks), have not been thought worthy of republication, we must not be surprised at the treatment which Ward has received.

As a Suffolk minister, and a thorough lover of Puritan theology, I should have been especially pleased, if it had been in my power to supply full information about Samuel Ward. I regret, however, to be obliged to say that the materials from which any account of him can be compiled are exceedingly scanty, and the facts known about him are comparatively few. Nor yet, unhappily, is this difficulty the only one with which I have had to contend. It is an unfortunate circumstance, that no less than three divines named

MEMOIE OF SAMUEL WARD, B.D.

" S. Ward " lived in the first half of the seventeenth century, and were all members of Sydney College, Cambridge. These three were, Dr Samuel Ward, master of Sydney College, who was one of the English commissioners at the Synod of Dort, and a correspondent of Archbishop Usher;—Seth Ward, who was successively Bishop of Exeter and Salisbury ;—and Samuel Ward of Ipswich, whose sermons are now reprinted. Of these three, the two "Samuels" were undoubtedly the most remarkable men ; but the similarity of their names has hitherto involved their biographies in much confusion. I can only say that I have done my best, in the face of these accumulated difficulties, to unravel a tangled skein, and to supply the reader with accurate information.

The story of Samuel Ward's life is soon told. He was born at Haverhill, in Suffolk, in the year 1577, and was eldest son of the Kev. John Ward, minister of the gospel in that town.* He was admitted a scholar of St John's College, Cambridge, on Lady Margaret's foundation, on Lord Burghley's nomination, November 6. 1594, and went out B.A. of that house in 1596. He was appointed one of the first fellows of Sydney Sussex College in 1599, commenced M.A. 1600, vacated his fellowship on his marriage in 1604, and proceeded B.D. in 1607.

*■ John Ward, the father of Samuel Ward, appears to have been a man of considerable eminence as a minister and preacher. Fuller (in his Worthies of Suffolk) says that the three sons together would not make up the abilities of their father. The following inscription on his tomb in Haverhill church is well worth reading:—

Johannes Wakde.

Quo si quis scivit scitius, Aut si quis docuit doctius. At rarus vixit sanctius, Et nullus tonuit fortius.

Son of thunder, son of ye dove, Full of hot zeal, full of true love ; In preaching truth, in living right,— A burning lampe, a shining light. Light here. Stars hereafteb.

John Ward, after he with great evidence and power of ye Spinte, and with much fruit, preached ye gospel at Haverill and Bury in Suff. 25 yeares, was heere gathered to his fathers. Watch. Susan, his widdowe, married Rogers, that Warde.

worthy Pastor of Wethersfielde. He left 3 sonnes, Samuel, Nathaniel, John, Preachers, who for them and thairs, wish no greater blessing th.in that they may continue in beleeving and preaching the same gospel till ye coming of Christ. Come, Lord Jesus, come quicklye.

Watch. Death is our entrance into life. WAnrE.

MEMOIR OF SAMUEL WARD, B.D.

Nothing is known of Ward's boyhood and youth. His entrance on the work of the ministry, the name of the bishop by whom he was ordained, the date of his ordination, the place where he first began to do Christ's work as a preacher, are all things of which apparently there is no record. His first appearance as a public character is in the capacity of lecturer at his native town of Haverhill. Of his success at Haverhill, Samuel Clark (in his ' Lives of Eminent Persons,' p. lo4<, ed. 1683), gives the following interesting example, in his life of Samuel Fairclough, a famous minister of Kedington, in Suffolk.:—

* God was pleased to begin a work of grace in the heart of Samuel Fairclough very early and betimes, by awakening his conscience by the terror of the law, and by bestowing a sincere repentance upon him thereby, and by working an effectual faith in him ; and all this was done by the ministry of the word preached by Mr Samuel "Ward, then lecturer of Haverhill. Mr Ward had answered for him in baptism, and had always a hearty love to him. Preaching one day on the conversion of Zaccheus, and discoursing upon his fourfold restitution in cases of rapine and extortion, Mr Ward used that frequent expression, that no man can expect pardon from God of the wrong done to another's estate, except he make full restitution to the wronged person, if it may possibly be done. This was as a dart directed by the hand of God to the heart of young Fairclough, who, together wdth one John Trigg, afterwards a famous physician in London, had the very week before robbed the orchard of one Goodman Jude of that town, and had filled their pockets as well as their bellies with the fruit of a mellow pear tree.

' At and after sermon, young Fairclough mourned much, and had not any sleep all the night following; and, rising on the Monday morning, he Avent to his companion Trigg and told him that he was going to Goodman Jude's, to carry him twelve pence by w^ay of restitution for three pennyworth of pears of which he had wronged him. Triofor, fearinj; that if the thing were confessed to Jude, he would acquaint Robotham their master therewith, and that corporal correction would follow, did earnestly strive to divert the poor child from his purpose of restitution. But Fairclough replied that God would not pardon the sin except restitution were made. To which Trigg answered thus : " Thou talkest like a fool, Sam ; God will forgive us ten times, sooner than old Jude will forgive us once." But our Samuel was of another mind, and therefore he goes on to Jude's house, and there told him his errand, and offered him a shilling, which Jude refusing (though he declared his for"

giveness of the WTong), the youth's wound smarted so, that he could get no rest till he went to his spiritual father Mr Ward, and opened to him the whole state of his soul, both on account of this particular sin and many others, and most especially the sin of sins, the original sin and depravation of his nature. Mr Ward received him with great affection and tenderness, and proved the good Samaritan to him, pouring wine and oil into his wounds, answering all his questions, satisfying his fears, and preaching Jesus to him so fully and effectually that he became a true and sincere convert, and dedicated and devoted himself to his Saviour and Redeemer all the days of his life after.'*

From Haverhill, Samuel Ward was removed, in 1003, at the early age of twenty-six, to a position of great importance in those days. He was appointed by the Corporation of Ipswich to the office of town preacher at Ipswich, and filled the pulpit of St Mary-le-Tower, ih that town, with Httle intermission, for about thirty years. Ipswich and Norwich, it must be remembered, were places of far more importance two hundred and fifty years ago, than they are at the present day. They were the capital towns of two of the wealthiest and most thickly peopled counties in England. Suffolk, in particular, was a county in which the Protestant and evangelical principles of the Reformation had taken particularly deep root. Some of the most eminent Puritans were Suffolk ministers. To be chosen town preacher of a place like Ipswich, two hundred and fifty years ago, was a very great honour, and shews the high estimate which was set on Samuel Ward's ministerial character, even when he was so young as twenty-six. It deserves to be remarked that Matthew Lawrence and Stephen Marshall, who were among his successors, were both foremost men among the divines of the seventeenth century.

The influence which Ward possessed in Ipswich appears to have been very considerable. Fuller says, 'He was preferred minister in, or rather of, Ipswich, having a care over, and a love from, all the parishes in that populous place. Indeed, he had a magnetic virtue (as if he had learned it from the loadstone, in whose quali-

* I think it right to remark that Clark, in all probability, has erred in his dates in telling this story. He says that Fairclough was born in 1594, and that the event he has recorded took place when he was thirteen years old. Now, in 1607 Ward had ceased to be lecturer of Haverhill. Whether the explanation of this discrepancy is that Fairclough was born before 1594, or that lie was only nine years old when he stole the pears, or that Ward was visiting at Haverhill in 1607 and preached during his visit, or that Fairclough was at school at Ipswich and not Haverhill, is a point that we have no means of deciding.

ties he was so knowing,) to attract people's affections.' * The history of his thirty years' ministry in the town of Ipswich, would doubtless prove full of interesting particulars, if we could only discover them. Unhappily, I can only supply the reader with the following dry facts, which I have found in an antiquarian publication of considerable value, entitled, ' Woddcrspoon's Memorials of Ipswich.' They are evidently compiled from ancient records, and throw some useful light on certain points of Ward's history.

Wodderspoon says—'In the year 1603, on All-Saints' day, a man of considerable eminence was elected as preacher, Mr Samuel Ward. The corporation appear to have treated him with great liberality, appointing an hundred marks as his stipend, and also allowing him ^0 : 13 : 4 quarterly in addition, for house rent.

' The municipal authorities (possibly, because of obtaining so able a divine) declare very minutely the terms of Mr Ward's engagement. In his sickness or absence he is to provide for the supply of a minister at the usual place three times a week, ' as usual hath been." " He shall not be absent out of town above forty days in one year, without leave ; and if he shall take a pastoral charge, his retainer by the corporation is to be void. The pension granted to him is not to be cliarged on the foundation or hospital lauds."

' In the seventh year of James I., the corporation purchased a house for the preacher, or rather for Mr Ward. This house was bought by the town contributing ^£^120, and the rest of the money was made up by free contributions, on the understanding that, when Mr Ward ceased to be preacher, the building was to be re-sold, and the various sums collected returned to those who contributed, as well as the money advanced by the corporation.'

' In the eighth year of James I., the corporation increased the salary of Mr Ward to .fOO per annum, " on account of the charges he is at by abiding here."'

' In the fourteenth year of James I, Mr Samuel Ward's pension increased from .£90 to ddOO yearly.'

' The preaching of this divine being, of so free and puritanic a character, did not long escape the notice of the talebearers of the court; and after a short period, spent in negotiation, Mr Ward was restrained from officiating in his office. In 1623, August 6th, a

* I suspect that Fuller's remarks about the loadstone refer to a book, called ' Magnetis Reductorium Thcoloj,ium,' which is sometimes attributed to t^'amuel Ward of ipswich. But it is more than doubtful whether the authorsiiip of this book does not belong to Dr Samuel Ward, the principal of Sidney College, of whom mention has already been made.

record appears in the town books, to the effect that " a letter from the king, to inhibit Mr Ward from preaching, is referred to the council of the town."'

About the remaining portion of Ward's life, Wodderspoon supplies no information. The little that we know about it is gleaned from other sources.

It is clear, from Hackett's Hfe of the Lord Keeper Bishop Williams (p. 95, ed. 1693), that though prosecuted by Bishop Harsnet for nonconformity in 1623, Ward was only suspended temporarily, if at all, from his office as preacher. Brook (in his ' Lives of the Puritans,' vol. ii. p. 452), following Hackett, says, that ' upon his prosecution in the consistory of Norwich, he appealed from the bishop to the king, who committed the articles exhibited against him to the examination of the Lord Keeper Williams. The Lord Keeper reported that Mr Ward was not altogether blameless, but a man easily to be won by fair dealing ; and persuaded Bishop Harsnet to take his submission, and not remove him from Ipswich. The truth is, the Lord Keeper found that Mr Ward possessed so much candour, and was so ready to promote the interests of the church, that he could do no less than compound the troubles of so learned and industrious a divine. He was therefore released from the prosecution, and most probably continued for some time, without molestation, in the peaceable exercise of his ministry.' Brook might here have added a fact, recorded by Hackett, that Ward was so good a friend to the Church of England, that he was the means of retaining several persons who were wavering about conformity, within the pale of the Episcopal communion.

After eleven years of comparative quiet. Ward was prosecuted again for alleged nonconformity, at the instigation of Archbishop Laud. Prynne, in his account of Laud's trial (p. 361), tells us that, in the year 1635, he was impeached in the High Commision Court for preaching against bowing at the name of Jesus, and against the Book of Sports, and for having said ' that the Church of England was ready to ring changes in religion,' and ' that the gospel stood on tiptoe ready to be gone.' He was found guilty, was enjoined to make a public recantation in such form as the Court should appoint, and condemned in costs of the suit. Upon his refusal to recant, he was committed to prison, where he remained a long time.

In a note to Brook's account of this disgraceful transaction, which he appears to have gathered out of Bushworth's Collections and Wharton's Troubles of Laud, he mentions a remarkable fact about Ward at this juncture of his life, which shews the high

esteem in which he was held at Ipswich. It appears that after his suspension the Bishop of Norwich would have allowed his people another minister in his place ; but ' they would have Mr Ward, or none!'

The last four years of "Ward's life are a subject on which I find it very difficult to discover the truth. Brook says that, after his release from prison, he retired to Holland, and became a colleague of William Bridge, the famous Independent minister of Yarmouth, who had settled at Rotterdam. He also mentions a report that he and Mr Bridge renounced their Episcopal ordination, and were reordained,—' Mr Bridge ordaining Mr Ward, and Mr Ward returning the compliment.' He adds another report, that Ward was unjustly deposed from his pastoral office at Rotterdam, and after a short interval restored.

I venture to think that this account must be rejrarded with some suspicion. At any rate, I doubt whether we are in possession of all the facts in the transaction which Brook records. That Ward retired to Holland after his release from prison, is highly probable. It was a step which many were constrained to take for the sake of peace and liberty of conscience, in the days of the Stuarts. That he was pastor of a church at Rotterdam, in conjunction with Bridge, —that differences arose between him and his colleague,—that he was temporarily deposed from his office and afterward restored,— are things which I think very likely. His reordination is a point which I think questionable. For one thing it seems to me exceedingly improbable, that a man of Ward's age and standing would first be reordained by Bridge, who was twenty-three years younger than himself, and afterward reordain Bridge. For another thing, it appears very strange that a man who had renounced his episcopal orders, should have afterwards received an honourable burial in the aisle of an Ipswich church, in the year 1639. One thing only is clear. Ward's stay at Rotterdam could not have been very lengthy. He was not committed to prison till 1635, and was buried in 1639. He ' lay in prison long,' according to Prynne. At any rate, he lay there long enough to write a Latin work, called ' A Rapture,' of which it is expressly stated that it Avas composed during his imprisonment ' in the Gate House.' In 1638, we find him buying a house in Ipswich. It is plain, at this rate, that he could not have been very long in Holland. However, the whole of the transactions at Rotterdam, so far as Ward is concerned, are involved in some obscurity. Stories against eminent Puritans were easily fsibricated and greedily swallowed in the seventeenth century. Brook's assertion that Ward died in Holland, about 1640, is so entirely desti-

Xll MEMOIR OF SAMUEL WARD, B.D.

tute of foimdation, that it rather damages the value of his account of Ward's latter days.

Granting, however, that after his release from prison Ward retired to Holland, there seems every reason to believe that he returned to Ipswich early in 1638. It appears from the town books of Ipswich (according to Wodderspoon), that, in April 1638, he purchased the house provided for him by the town for ,^140, repaying the contributors the sum contributed by them. He died in the month of March 1639, aged 62 ; and was buried in St Mary-le-Tower, Ipswich, on the 8th of that month. A certified copy of the entry of his burial, in the parish register, is in my possession. On a stone which was laid in his lifetime in the middle aisle of the church, the following words (according to Clarke's History of Ipswich) are still extant—•

' Watch, "Ward! yet a little while, And he that shall come will come.'

Under this stone it is supposed the bones of the good old Puritan preacher were laid ; and to this day he is spoken of by those who know his name in Ipswich as

' Watch Ward."

It only remains to add, that Ward married, in 1604, a widow named Deborah Bolton, of Isleham in Cambridge, and had by her a family.* It is an interesting fact, recorded in the town-books of Ipswich, that after his death, as a mark of respect, his widow and his eldest son Samuel were allowed for their lives the stipend enjoyed by their father, viz., .£'100 annually. It is also worthy of remark, that he had two brothers who were ministers, John and Nathaniel. John Ward lived and died rector of St Clement's, Ipswich ; and there is a tablet and short inscription about him in that church. Nathaniel Ward was minister of Stardon, Herts, went to America in 1634, returned to England in 1646, and died at Shenfield, in Essex, 1653.

There is an excellent portrait of Ward still extant in Ipswich, in the possession of Mr Hunt, solicitor. He is represented with an open book in his right hand, a ruff round his neck, a peaked beard and moustaches. On one side is a coast beacon lighted; and there is an inscription—

' Watche Ward, ^tatis suse 43. 1620.'

The following extract, from a rare volume called ' The Tombstone ; or, a notice and imperfect monument of that worthy

* For this fact, and the facts about Ward's degrees at Cambridge. I am indebted to a well-informed writer in ' Notes and Queiies' for October 1861.

MKMOIR OF SAMUEL WAKD, B.D. Xlll

man Mr John Carter, Pastor of Bramford and BoLstcad in Suffolk' (1653), will probably be thought to deserve insertion as an incidental evidence of the high esteem in which Ward was held in the neighbourhood of Ipswich. The work was written by Mr Carter's son; and the extract describes what occurred at his father's funeral. He says (at pages 26, 27), 'In the afternoon, February 4. leS-t, at my father's interring, there was a great confluence of people from all parts thereabout, ministers and others taking up the word of Joash King of Israel, "O my father! my father! the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof!" Old Mr Samuel Ward, that famous divine, and the glory of Ipswich came to the funeral, brought a mourning gown with him, and offered very respectfully to preach the funeral sermon, seeing that such a congregation was gathered together, and upon such an occasion. But my sister and I durst not give way to it; for our father had often charged us in his lifetime, and upon his blessing, that no service should be at hLs burial. For, said he, " it will give occasion to speak some good things of me that I deserve not, and so false things will be uttered in this pulpit." Mr Ward rested satisfied, and did forbear. But the next Friday, at Ipswich, he turned his whole lecture into a funeral sermon for my father, in which he did lament and honour him, to the great satisfaction of the whole auditory.'

I have now brought together all that I can discover about Samuel Ward's history. I heartily regret that the whole amount is so small, and that the facts recorded about him are so few. But we must not forget that the best part of Ward's life was spent in Suffolk, and that he seldom left his own beloved pulpit in St Mary-le-Tower, Ipswich.* That he was well known by reputation beyond the borders of his own county, there can be no doubt. His selection to be a preacher at St Paul's Cross, in 1616, is a proof of this. But it is vain to suppose that the reputation of a preacher, however eminent, who lives and dies in a provincial town, will long survive him. In order to become the subject of biographies, and have the facts of his life continually noted down, a man must live in a metropolis. This was not Ward's lot; and, consequently, at the end of two hundred years, we seem to know little about him.

It only remains to say something about the Sermons and Treatises, which are now for the first time reprinted, and made accessible to the modern reader of theology. It must be distinctly un-

* It seems that ho expounded half the Bible during his ministry in Ipswich! See his preface to ' The Happiness of Practice.'

derstood that they do not comprise the whole of Ward's writings. Beside these Sermons and Treatises, he wrote, in conjunction with Yates, a reply to Montague's famous book, 'Appello CsBsarem.' There is also reason to think that he published one or two other detached sermons beside those which are now reprinted. I think, however, there can belittle doubt that the nine Sermons and Treatises which are now republished are the only works of Samuel Ward which it would have been worth while to reprint, and in all probability the only works which he would have wished himself to be reproduced.

Of the merits of these sermons, the public will now be able to form an opinion. They were thought highly of in time past, and have received the commendation of very competent j udges. Fuller testifies that Ward ' had a sanctified fancy, dexterous in designing expressive pictures, representing much matter in a Httle model.' Doddridge says that Ward's 'writings are worthy to be read through. His language is generally proper, elegant, and nervous. His thoughts are well digested, and happily illustrated. He has many remarkable veins of wit. Many of the boldest figures of speech are to be found in him, beyond any English writer, especially apostrophes, prosopopoeias, dialogisms, and allegories.'* This praise may at first sight seem extravagant. I shall, however, be disappointed if those who take the trouble to read Ward's writings do not think it well deserved.

It is only fair to Samuel Ward to remind the readers of his works, that at least three of the nine Sermons and Treatises now reprinted, were not originally composed with a view to publication. The sermons entitled ' A Coal from the Altar,' ' Balm from Gilead to Recover Conscience,' and ' Jethro's Justice of the Peace,' would appear to have been carried through the press by friends and relatives. They have all the characteristics of compositions intended for ears rather than for eyes, for hearers rather than for readers. Yet I venture to say that they are three of the most striking examples of Ward's gifts and powers, out of the whole nine. The peroration of the sermon on Conscience, in particular, appears to me one of the most powerful and effective conclusions to a sermon which I have ever read in the English language.-f*

* How Doddridge could possibly have made the mistake of supposing that Ward died at the age of 28, is perfectly inexplicable I

•j- The engraved title-pages of two of the nine Sermons, in the edition of 1636, are great curiosities in their way. The one which is prefixed to the ' Woe to Drunkards,' is intended to be a hit at the degeneracy of the times in which Ward lived. If it was really designed by Ward himself, it supplies some foundation for the rumour that he had a genius for caricaturing.

The doctHne of Ward's sermons is always thoroughly evangelical. He never falls into the extravagant language about repentance, which disfigures the writings of some of the Puritans. He never wearies us with the long supra-scriptural, systematic statements of theology, which darken the pages of others. He is always to the point, always about the main things in divinity, and generally sticks to his text. To exalt the Lord Jesus Christ as high as possible, to cast down man's pride, to expose the sinfulness of sin, to spread out broadly and fully the remedy of the gospel, to awaken the unconverted sinner and alarm him, to build up the true Christian and comfort him,—these seem to have been objects which Ward proposed to himself in every sermon. And was he not right ? Well would it be for the Churches if we had more preachers like him !

The style of Ward's sermons is always eminently simple. Singularly rich in illustration,—bringmg every day life to bear continually on his subject,—pressing into his Master's service the whole circle of human learning,—borrowing figures and similes from everything in creation,—not afraid to use familiar language such as all could understand,—framing his sentences in such a way that an ignoi'ant man could easily follow him,—bold, direct, fiery, dramatic, and speaking as if he feared none but God, he was just the man to arrest attention, and to keep it when arrested, to set men thinking, and to make them anxious to hear him again. Quaint he is undoubtedly in many of his sayings. But he preached in an age when all were quaint, and his quaintness probably struck no one as remarkable. Faulty in taste he is no doubt. But there never was the popular preacher against whom the same charge was not laid. His faults, liowever, were as nothing compared to his excellencies. Once more I say. Well would it be for the churches if we had more preachers like him !

The language of Ward's sermons ought not to be passed over without remark. I venture to say that, in few writings of the seventeenth century, will there be found so many curious, old-fashioned, and forcible words as in Ward's sermons. Some of these words are unhappily obsolete and unintelligible to the multitude, to the grievous loss of English literature. Many of them will require explanatory foot-notes, in order to make them understood by the majority of readers.

I now conclude by expressing my earnest hope that the scheme of republication, which owes its existence to Mr Nichol, may meet , with the success which it deserves, and that the writings of men like Samuel Ward may be read and circulated throughout the land.

I wish it for the sake of the Puritan divines. We owe them a debt, in Great Britain, which has never yet been fully paid. They are not valued as they deserve, I firmly believe, because they are so little known.*

I wish it for the sake of the Protestant Churches of my own country, of every name and denomination. It is vain to deny that we have fallen on trying times for Christianity. Heresies of the most appalling kind are broached in quarters where they might have been least expected. Principles in theology which were once regarded as thoroughly established are now spoken of as doubtful matters. In a time like this, I believe that the study of some of the great Puritan divines is eminently calculated, under God, to do good and stay the plague. I commend the study especially to all young ministers. If they want to know how powerful minds and mighty intellects can think out deep theological subjects, arrive at decided conclusions, and yet give implicit reverence to the Bible, let them read Puritan divinity.

I fear it is not a reading age. Large books, especially, have but little chance of a perusal. Hurry, superficiality, and bustle are the characteristics of our times. Meagreness, leanness, and shallowness are too often the main features of modern sermons. Nevertheless, something must be attempted in order to check existing evils. The churches must be reminded that there can be no really powerful preaching without deep thinking, and little deep thinking without hard reading. The republication of our best Puritan divines I regard as a positive boon to the Church and the world, and I heartilv wish it God speed.

* To regard the Puritans of the seventeenth century, as some appear to do, as mere ranting enthusiasts, is nothing better than melancholy ignorance. Fellowg and heads of colleges, as many of them were, they were equal, in point of learning, to any divines of their day. To say that they were mistaken in some of their opinions, is one thing; to speak of them as ' unlearned and ignorant men,' is simply absurd, and flatly contrary to facts.

CHEIST IS ALL IN ALL.

COLOSSIANS III. 11.

TO THE

KING OF KINGS AND LOED OF LOBDS, JESUS CHEIST.

Evert good name is as precious ointment; but unto thee, 0 Christ, hath God given a name above all names in heaven and earth, anointed thee with oil above all thy fellows. All thy garments smell of myrrh, aloes, and cassia; because of the scent of thy perfumes, thy name is a bundle of myrrh, cluster of camphor, and as the smell of Libanus. But we, the sons of men, have dull senses, stuffed with earthly savours. Oh, therefore, that thou whom my soul loveth wouldest shew thy servant where that fragrant spikenard is to be found which will cast a savour all over thine house; and help him so to pour some small portion thereof upon thine head, as might draw us, in the savour of thine ointment, to run after thee. Had he all the treasures and jewels of the world, would he not bestow them upon altars and crucifixes to thy honour, if thou likedst of any such services ? But these vanities, he knoweth full well, thy jealousy abhorreth. This thou hast shewed him, that he that praiseth thee honoureth thee. Accept, therefore, and prosper the office of him that desireth not hereby to gain a name on earth; who wisheth all his thoughts and works may either honour thee or dishonour himself, feed thy flock or moths; who reckoneth himself unworthy to be as one of thy whelps, is willing to be of no name or number, so thou mayest be All in Axl. ^

Guide thou my pen, and it shall shew foeth thy praise !

CHRIST IS ALL IN ALL.

Christ is all, and in all. — Col. III. 11.

A MAGNtPiCENT title, a most ample and stately style ; too transcendent and comprehensive for any creature, man, or angel; due and fit only for Him, upon whose head it is here set by his elect vessel, chosen of purpose to be the ensign-bearer of his name among the nations; worthily honom-ed by Augustine for the best child of grace, and faithfulest sei-vant of his Lord, because in all his wi-itings he affects nothing more, nothing else, in a manner, than to advance his name, as here in the foimer part of the verse, to cry down and nullify all other excellencies whatsoever, that he might in the latter magnify, or rather, as you see, omnify his Lord and Master Christ: giving the Colossians to understand, that however there be many things with men, of great and different esteem, the advantage of a Jew being much above a Gentile, the dignity of a Grecian above a Scythian or Barbarian, many the privileges of a freeman above a bond-slave; yet all these with God are nothing set by, who hath so set all his love and good pleasm-e on his Son, that besides, or out of him, he regards no person, respecteth no cu'cumstance, but slights all as cyphers of no value. Only look what there is of Christ in any man, either by imputation or infusion, so much is he in God's books, with whom Christ is all in all.

The extent of which praise, that we may the fuller comprehend, we may not measure Paul's phi'ase by our own ordinaiy language, in which by common abuse of speech, we lend it to eveiything we mean to commend a little above its fellows. As Solomon, speaking after the sense and fashion of worldlings, ' Bread (says he) nourisheth, wine refi'esheth, but money is all in all,' Eccles. x. It is not true of Christ only as a byword, or proverbial commendation, but in the fullest rack a proposition can be strained unto in om* apprehension, and that in a twofold relation of God and man. Look what God can require for his satisfaction, or we desire for our perfection, is so completely to be found in Christ, that it need not be sought elsewhere.

With God, it is true that worthy patriarchs and saints have been somebodies : Abraham his friend; Israel a potent prince with him; Moses a faithful steward in his house; Noah, Samuel, and Daniel, prevaihi;g favourites, that could do something with him; but all through, and for

the sake of Messiah, the heir, the Son of his desires, and good pleasure, in whom he hath heaped up the fulness of grace and treasures of all perfection.

Unto us sundry things be of some stead and use in some cases, in their several times, places, and respects ; but imto all intents and effects of justification, sanctification, and salvation, in prosperity, in adversity, in life, and death, Christ only is all in all.

This all-sufficiency of Christ, as it cannot be easily conceived, nor possibly at once expressed, so hath not the Spirit of God thought fit in one or a few texts, after one or a few ways, but throughout the Bible, at sundry times and manifold manners, to set out the same unto us in types real, in types personal, in prophecies, in plain terms, in parables and similitudes, insomuch that Count Anhalt,* that princely preacher, was wont to say, that the whole Scriptures, what were they else but swaddling bands of the child Jesus ? he being to be found almost in every page, in every verse, and line.

Many renowned persons and things we read stories of; but the Spirit speaks not so much of them, as allegoriseth of another, meaneth them on the by and Christ on the main, who is the centre, at which all of them, as several lines, aim and directly point at.

The tree of life, the ark of Noah, the ladder of Jacob, and the rest of the like kind, what were they but Christ ? whom because the world was not worthy so soon to see, nor God willing at once to shew so rich a jewel, he therefore enwi-apped obscurely in these shadows, till in the fulness of time he saw fit to reveal him in open mirror; directly by his forerunner pointing at him, ' Behold the Lamb of God,' &c.

And because these were but dead types, not resembling to the life him that was the Life of the world and Lord of life; therefore all the prophets, kings, and priests of note, and the redeemers and benefactors of the Jews, what were they but pictures sent before of this Prince of glory, to follow after in his due time, and as stars extinguishing their borrowed light at the appearance of the Sun of righteousness, to whom Moses and Elias, in the persons and stead of the rest, did their homage on Mount Tabor, as unto the sum and accomplishment of the law and prophets ?f

To say nothing of the imaginary gods and proud monarchs of the world, all whose swelling titles, which they usurped in their coins, columns, and arches, of founders, preservers, repairers, dictators, consuls, &c., properly and of right belong to him, who alone is the Saviour of his people, ' King of kings, mighty Counsellor, Prince of peace, Righteousness, ImmortaUty, only blessed for ever.'

In a word, this whole universe, this same great all, and all the things of • mark and use in it, as they were made by, for, and through him, and but for him should not have been, could not continue; so do they all willingly tender their services to illustrate his worth, as so many gems to adorn and embroider his apparel withal. The glorious sun, the bright morning star, bread the most necessary, wine the sweetest, waters the most refreshing, the rose of Sharon the fairest, all serving in Scripture to adumbrate pieces and parcels of his infinite perfection: and do not all jointly compounded make up an idea of him, that is light indeed, bread and water of hfe indeed, the only good, the chief good, the author and perfector, the root and branch, the Alpha and Omega, which two letters, as they are the principal, initial, and final of the alphabet, and comprehend in their compass all the

* Philip. Camerarius in vita Comitis Anhaldini Pastoris et Principis, &c. t Glossa Hebr. in Isa. lii. vide Pelicanum in Deut. xxxii.

residue, so are they emblems of him that is eternity itself, perfection itself, first and last, * all in all,' &c.*

Hear this, all you that worship the beast and his image, and tell me whether there can be two ' Alls in all;' and if this be Christ's just and incommunicable title, what is to be thought of him that shall arrogate or assume it to himself ? What else can he be but that' man of pride, son of perdition, even that Antichrist ?' The swelling titles, whereby your Gregory! foremarked out liis successor, are but modest ones in comparison of this blasphemy.

Yea, but was there ever mouth so full of abomination, that durst belch out, or ears soHerodian, that durst put up such stuff? Search and peruse your owTi records, and tell us to whom these acclamations were used by your Lateran fathers, ' To thee is given all power in heaven and earth, thou art all in all.'J Was it not your lion at his entrance into the council? And did that beast either rend his gannent, or stop his ears ? at which it is wonder the earth opened not to swallow quick both speaker and hearer, as the chair of Hildebrand rent asunder on a less occasion. Too little it was belike to be styled by ordinary pai'asites, the shepherd of shepherds, spouse and head of the church, oecumenical bishop, prince of priests ;§ unless he might be advanced above all Augustcity and Deity in this most hyperboHcal manner. What need we any further evidence of an antichrist ?j| shall there ever come a prouder monster out the tribe of Dan ? or can Lucifer himself be more Lucifei'ian ? And yet forsooth this wretch, to blind the eyes of such as will be deluded, will be called the servant of servants, and aU is made whole again, as if the Scriptures and ancient modern^r writers had not forepainted out such an antichrist, as should by all fraud of um-ighteousness climb into the chair of universal pestilence, under the colom- and vizard of Christ, faith and piety (without which the world would have abhorred him, as the devil himself), undermine Christ, and subvert the faith, and overthrow aU religion under the names of Christ's Vicar, and Vice-God, become in effect Antichrist, and Anti-God.

Somewhat more tolerable of the two, and yet blasphemously enough, do they give it to the blessed Virgin, in the closes of their rhyming Marials ;** of whom I doubt not with Cahin to say, that if one could spit in her face, drag her by the hair of her head, or trample her mider feet, she would coimt it a less injury, than to have ascribed unto her the di\ine attributes of her Lord and Saviour, who alone is the eye by which we see the Father; the mouth by whom we speak to him ; the hand by which he distributes all his treasures of grace unto us, from whom so much is sacrilegiously detracted, as is superstitiously given to saint, angel, man, work, merit, or creature whatever. Mad and blind idolaters are they, wittingly ignorant that Christ of pui-pose ti'od the wine-press alone,|f shed his blood alone

* Vide Eglinum Iconium in Apocalypsin. t Univerrialis Sacerdos, Epist. 30, ad Maurit, Reo;ist, lib. 6. X Vido orationera Gnathouicam Episcopi Patris Vacensis ad Leonem X. in ultimo Concil. Lateranensi. § Bellar. de Pontif. Rom. lib. ii. ca]i. 31.

II August, lib. contra adversariOS legis, cap. 12; Hilar, cont. Anxentium. Pareus in Apoc. Gratserus in regia plaga. % Qii.' Moral ?"— Ed.

** Tu spes certa mi.serorura. Vere mater orplianorum, Tu Icvanien ojipressorura, Medicamun iulirmorura, Omnibus os omnia. (Cal. in Dcut.) ^t T'ox in Apoc. , VOL. m, V

upon the cross, implying to us, that if we shall mingle therewithal, his mother's milk, the blood of any martyr else, it loseth its healing virtue, and turns into bane and poison to our souls. This eagle's feathers will not abide blending with others ; this sovereignty wUl not endure either party or priority ;* no Jupiter will Christ be, but a Jehovah; no helper, but author and finisher of om' salvation.f To all he-saints, and she-saints, merit and ft-ee-will-mongers, shall he not in his jealousy break out and say, ^Vhat have I to do Avith you ? If you can do all, or aught at all without me, then let me alone, let me either be saviour alone, mediator alone, all in all, or none at all.

But to leave these self-cozened, and self-condemned idolaters, whose whole church and religion holds more of our lady than of our Lord, leaves Christ the least of all to do in matter of merit and salvation, well were it with many of us, who profess and hold the precious faith of Chi'ist aright in judgment and doctrine, if in affection and practice he were, I say, not all in all, but somebody, and something.J In our tongue, terms, and countenance he may be heard and seen, but in our lives and deeds where is he to be found ?§ As a saviour and benefactor, many will own him, but as a lord and lawgiver few do know him; the prime of their loves, joys, services, their back and belly, their mammon, or anything shall have before him. He that should be both Alpha and Omega, it is weU if he be the Omega of their thoughts and cares. Slay it not be justified of too, too many, that an hawk, or an hound, a die, or card, or flower in the garden, a new suit and fashion of apparel, and such other nifles and trifles are their all and aU; with most, and such as are of the wiser sort, of this generation, that which Solomon justly calls nothing (for so he peremptorily terms that, which miserable men of this world place all their confidence in), call their Pandora,|| their Jupiter, worship as the great Diana, empress and goddess of the whole world, take away that from them, and take away all; the having of it makes them, the losing of it undoes them. Great I confess is the power, and ample the command, that Mammon hath in this world, for many pm-poses, and in many cases. But in the hour of sickness let Nabal caU and crj unto it, and see if it can deliver him in the evil day, and in distress of conscience. Let Judas see what comfort his money will afford him ; in the day of death and judgment, what does a penny and a pound, an empty purse and a ftdl full purse, difi'er ? Does not too, too late experience teach them to cry out, All is vanity, and force them with the Emperor Severus to say, I have been all things, and it avails nothing ; if I had a thousand worlds, I would give them to be found of God in Christ. Worthily therefore did Charles the Great change that old by-word of money into his Chiistian symbol, ' Christ reigns, Christ overcomes, Christ triumphs, Christ is all in all.'H

All then let him be in all our desires and wishes. Who is that wise merchant that hath heart large enough to conceive and believe as to this ? Let him go seU all his nothing, that he may compass this pearl, barter his bugles for this diamond. Verily all the haberdash stuff the whole pack of the world hath, is not worthy to be valued with this jewel. Worthy of him thou canst not be, unless thou coimtest aU dross and loss to gain him that is gain in Ufe and death, unless thou canst, as the apostles, forsake aU to

* Bern, in Cant. f Lactantius. J Erasmus in Evangel.

§ Sine Christo Christiani. Bern. || Aug. de Civit. Dei.

Sic vetus illud ; ' Nummus regnat, nummus vincit, nummus imperat,' mutavit Carolus magnus. Apud Keusnerum.

CHRIST IS ALL IN ALL.

follow him; yoa, as divers of the common sort of his followers, lay Hovra all at the apostles' fcot for him who laid down himself for us, emptying himself of his glory, to till us with gi-ace and glory ; yea, unless thou canst make nothing of thyself, and thine o\\-n righteousness, which is the hardest thing in practice that may be. Few or none, I think, there be in the sound of the gospel, but have some faint and languid wishes. Oh that Christ were mine! But would they know the reason why they attain not the sweet fruition and l•a^•ishing possession of him, ' I am his, and he is mine.' The reason is, because he will not be found and had of such as seek but lazily and coldly for him, that inquire not through the streets, as undone without him ; as had, rather than want him, want all the world l)esides, and ciying as the spouse, ' Where art thou whom my soul loveth ? Whom have I in heaven like unto thee '? Men and brethren, what shall I do that I may enjoy him ? Give me Christ, or I die ; draw mo, that I may run after thee.'

These arc the afi'ections that betit them that are like to be speeders. The sluggard lusteth, and wanteth. He that desires anything above him, equally with him, or without him, shall never obtain him; he will be wooed in the fii'st place with all thy soul, strength, and might, with all that is within thee, or not at all of thee.

All let him be in all thy loves, and above all other beloveds; when thou hast gotten him, think not enough to make much of him, but remember he well deserves to be, and must be, all in all. Take him not by the hand, but embrace him with both thine amis of love, and hold him with all thy might; love him till thou be sick of love for him; such as will suffice any one ordinary object, wife, friend, health, or wealth, will not give him content, nay, not a compound of many, but a cathohcon of all; as he hath deserved, so he deservedly challengcth. All thy weak rivulets miited will scarce make one current strong enough for him. He that did all suflered all, took all thine infii-mities, finished all for thee ; is it not reason he should be all in all, without any coirival in thy afi'ections ? Such as entertain princes can never think they shew love enough unto them, and shall anj-thing be enough for this Prince of our peace and salvation ? I cannot but reverence the memoiy of that reverend divine,* who, being in a deep muse after some discourse that had passed of Christ, and tears trickling abundantty from his eyes before he was aware, being urged for the cause thereof, confessed ingenuously it was because he could not draw his dull heart to prize Christ aright. A rare mind in Christians, who think eveiy little enough, and too much for him.

All let him be in all our references and respects to others; yea, in all our elections and valuations of wife, fi-iends, companions, seiwants, only to prize Christ and his image, his faith and graces ; not kindred, not wealth, not greatness, not other parts, bxit only the whole of a man, which is his Christianity ; dare not to yoke thyself unequally with any untamed heifer that bears not his yoke. Spouse not but in the Lord, call none father, mother, or brother, but such as he did, that is, such as do his Father's will ; set not poor Lazanis at the footstool of thy heart, and Dives, with his gold ring and his purple, in the throne of esteem, lest Christ be ofiondcd for having his glorious gospel in respect of persons. Oh what a difiicnlt wtue is this when it cometh to the practising, to oversee and neglect all glistering lures and stales of the flesh, and to know no man for any such carnal caparisons, but to consider him as a new creature in Christ, and delight thyself in them as the most excellent of the eaiih, the onl}- true

♦ Mr Welsh.

gentle, noble worthies of the world. How royal and memorable was that practice of Ingo, an ancient king of the Draves and Veneds, who, making a stately feast, not as Aliasuerus, to shew the bounty of his own, but the glory of Christ's, kingdom, set all his nobles, which were at that time pagans and unconverted to the Christian faith, in his hall below, and certain poor Christians in his presence chamber with himself, with kingly cheer and attendance; at which, they wondering, he told them this he did not as king of the Draves, but as king of another world, wherein these were his consorts and fellow-princes ; these he saw with a spiritual eye, clad in white robes, and worthy his company; to them he wordd give civil due in the regiment of the commonwealth, but those he must love and honour in his heart as beloved and honoured of God. A rare and noble act, recorded by three historians,- worthy to be read to the shame of our times, wherein men of mean greatness know not how to shew the least respect to a Christian or a minister, in the name of Christ, to account them worthy their company, whom they ought to have in singular respect, and to account their very feet beautiful for their Lord's and embassage's sake, only with this proviso, that divine and nimious adoration be not given; a fault, on the other hand, common in Popery to their spiritual fathers and founders of orders and rules, whom they obey and reverence above Christ, as Gualterf gives instance in a doating abbot of Germany, who snibbed a novice for talking of Christ and the gospel, and not of the rules of Saint Francis and his own order; a common fault among sectaries, who hold, vamit, and denominate themselves of this or that man, of this or that faction ; whereas with God, I dare boldly say, there is neither Calvinist nor Lutheran, Protestant nor Puritan, Conformitan or Non-Conformitan, but faith and love in Christ is all in all.

All let him be in all our joys, instead of all other contents unto us ; good reason is it that he should fill our heai-ts that filleth all in all things. If he be ours, Apollo is ours, Cephas is ours, life and death, things present and to come, the world and all is ours ; we Christ's, and Christ God's. In him let our souls rest and rejoice; I say again, rejoice always in him. If he be om' shepherd, what can we want ? If he be our host, shall not our table be furnished and cup overflow ? If we err, is not he our way ? If we doubt, is not he the truth? If we faint, is not he the life ? What loss should disturb us, what want distemper us, so long as we lose not Christ ? What if God take away all and give us his Son; how shall he not with him give us all things requisite ? What other mystery enabled Paul to want and abound, but the fruition of him, whose goodness and gi-eatness is such, that all accessions add nothing, all defects detract nothing, to the happiness of him that enjoys him who is ' all in all.' |

Above all; all let him be with us in the main of all, that is, in the point of justification ; there (be sure) we repose all our confidence in him alone, bewaring lest we share and part stakes with any act of our own; yea, with any grace or work of his in us, lest he be in vain and of none effect unto us. This glory will he by no means endure should be divided with any

* JEneas Sylvius, cap. 20. Europ. Aventinus, i. 3. Annalium Bavar. GouL

t Gualt. in 1 Cor.

X Paulinus, Nola capta a Barbaris, precabatur ad dominum ne excrucier ob aurum etarfjentum, tu enim OS mihi omnia. August, de Civit. Dei, lib. i. ca 10. Fastibi non est salvo Ca^sare de fortuna queri. Hoc incolumi nihil perdidisti; non tantum Biccos oculos, sed ct Ifctos esse oportet. In lioc tibi omnia, hie pro omnibus est. Se-ntca ia consolatioue ad Polybium, quanto aptius de Chriato ad Christianum, &c.

coadjutor, concanse, or coi:)artiier ■whatsoever ; nay, he takes it ill and indiffiily at our hands, if having him we hold not ourselvos completely righteous in God's sight, if for want of this or that grace we mourn overmuch,' hang down our head, and will not be comforted, as if his gi-aco were not suflicient for us, as if he were not better than ten, yea, than ten thousand graces unto us. If we stand upon this or that measure of grace, twenty to one if we had that we desire, we would be full and rich and stand in no need of him who is the giver of all grace, or that we would be prouder of the gift than of the author of every good gift, and not rest in him that is our wisdom, our righteousness, and redemption.

All let him be in all the graces of sanctilication, who only, indeed, is the very life and soul of them all. What is knowledge but heathenish science, if he be not its object, whom to know is eternal life ? "What is faith, and trast, and hope in God, if not in and through Christ, but a Jewish, wild, imgrounded contidence ? Patience, but a stoical blockishncss ? Temperance, and all the whole bevy of virtues, but either natural qualities or moral habits unacceptable to God, unprofitable to ourselves, sour grapes, glistering vices, if Christ be not the form of them, without whom there is no quahty that God relisheth in us, whereof Christ is not the root; wherefore, as apothecaries sweeten all their confections with sugar, and perfume their cordials with musk, so let us gi-ace all our gi'acesin Christ, without whom fools we are to pride ourselves in anything that nature, custom, or education hath done for us, in comparison of that influence we receive, and of those rays that come from this Sun of righteousness. Fools are we, when wanting grace, power, or strength to overcome ill, or do well, to seek supply anywhere else save of him, of whose fulness all the saints that ever were received gi-ace for grace. "Wlio would go to the pack, when he may go to the warehouse ? Who would fetch water at the cistern, when he may have it at the spring head better cheap ?

All let him be in all om- deeds. Whether we eat or drink, whether we pray, read, or meditate, give alms or work in our callings, let all be done in the name of our Lord Jesus ; begun with his leave, performed with his aid, and concluded to his glory, without whom we can do nothing, no more than the bird can fly without wings,- the ship sail without wind or tide, the body move without the soul. Whatever good works we do with an eye from his, and a skewf unto our own names, the more pain we take, the more penalty of pride belongs unto us ; the more cost, the more loss ; we and our moneys shall perish together ; whereas the least cup of cold water given for his sake, who knows our works and the intent of our works, shall not lose its reward. Verily, who would be so foolish as to do any work to any other paymaster, or who so ungi'ateful that would not do any work that he should require, that hath so well deserved to command more than all we are or can do ? Is he all in all with us, if we dare deny him anything ? I commend not the discretion, but admire the fidelity and zeal, of that renowned Fox, who never would deny beggar that asked in his name. Then are works good works, ' when the love of Christ constrains us to them,' and when Chi'ist's eye is more than all the world besides ; especially if, when all is done, all the thanks and praise of the deed redound to him. That policy is remarkable in the apostles' cure of the cripple, and in St Paul, in that he would never sufler any part of the repute or honour of any of his acts or labours rest upon his own head, l)ut repels it forcibly from himself, and reflects it carefully upon his Lord Christ: ' Not I, not I, but the grace * Macarius, f That is, a squint.— Ed.

of Christ in me ; I live not, but Christ in me.' In which not, says Brad* wardiue, there hes a great deal of subtilty, like that of Joab, that, when he had fought the field and gotten the upper hand, sent for David to carry away the credit of the victoiy. Oh, how difficult is this for us, not to lurch some part of the praise, and suffer pieces of the sacrifice to cleave to our own nets and j^aru. Whereas, in truth, our deepest wisdom and strongest polic}^ lay in this, not to glory in our wisdom or strength, but to glory in the Lord who worketh all in all things.

All let him be in all our thoughts and speeches. How happy were it if he were never out of our sight and minds, but that our souls were directed towards him and fixed on him, as the sunflower towards the sun, the iron to the loadstone, the loadstone to the polestar. Hath he not for that purpose resembled himself to aU familiar and ob\aous objects : * to the light, that so often as we open our eyes we might behold him ; to bread, water, and wine, that in all our repasts we might feed on him ;\ to the door, that in all our out and ingoing we might have him in remembrance ? How happy if our tongues would ever run upon that name, which is honey in the mouth, melody in the ear, jubilee in the heart. Let the mariner prate of the winds, the mei'chant of his gain, the husbandman of his oxen.| Be thou a Pythagorean to all the world, and a Peripatecian to Christ; mute to all vanities, and eloquent only to Chi-ist, that gave man his tongue and his speech. How doth Paul delight to record it, and harp upon it eleven times in ten verses, which Chrj^sostom § first took notice of, 1 Cor. i. 10. And liow doth worthy Fox grieve to foresee and foretell that which we hear and see come to pass, that men's discourses would be taken up about trifles and nifles, as if all religion lay in the flight and pursuit of one cii'cumstance or opinion; how heartily doth he pray, and vehemently wish that men would leave jangling about ceremonies, and spend their talk upon him that is the substance ; that learned men would write of Christ, unlearned men study of him, preachers make him the scope and subject of aU theii" preaching. || And what else, mdeed, is om' office but to elevate, not a piece of bread, as the Romish priests, but Christ in our doctrine ; to travail in birth till he be formed in a people, to crucify him in their eyes by lively preaching his death and passion. The old emblem of St Christopher, intending nothing else but a preacher wading through the sea of this world, staying ort the staff of faith, and lifting up Christ aloft to be seen of men. What else gained John the name of the divine, and Paul of a wise master builder, but that he regarded not, as the fashion is now-a-days, to have his reading, memory, and elocution, but Christ known and him crucified, and to build the church skilfully, laying the foundation upon this Rock, H of which, if we hold our peace, the rocks themselves will cry. This being the sum of om* art and task, by the help of Christ, to preach the gospel of Christ, to the praise of Christ, without whom a sermon is no sermon, preaching no preaching. *-

The sum of the sum of all is, that the whole duty of all men is to give themselves wholly to Christ, to sacrifice not a leg, or an arm, or any other piece, but soul, spirit, and body, and all that is within us;ft the fat, the inwards, the head and hoof, and all as a holocaust to him, dedicating, devoting ourselves to his semce all the days and hours of our lives, that aU our days may be Lord's daj's. To whom, when we have so done, yet must

* Musculus et Brentius in Johannem. t Bernard. J Nolanus,

? Tn Prtefat. ad Concionem de Christo crucifixo. || Philip Melanct. in Khetor. ^ Lutherus. *"* Perkin. in Proplietica. tt Nazianzenus de Spiritu.

we know we have given him so much less than his due, as wo worms and wretched sinners ai'e less than the Son of God, who knew no sin. To him therefore let us live, to him therefore lot us die. So let us live to him that we iniiy die in him, and hreathe out our souls most willingly into his hands, with the like atl'cction that John of Alt'xaudria, surnamed the Almoner for his hounty, is reported to have done, who, when he had distributed all he had to the poor, and made even with his revenues, as his fashion was yearly to do in his best health, thanked God he had now nothing left but his Lord and Master Christ, whom he longed to be with, and would now with un-limed and unentangled wings fly unto : or as, in fewer words, Peter of old and Lambert of later times, * Nothing but Christ, nothing but Christ.'

A Concludiug Supplication to Christ.

Thou, 0 Lord Chi'ist alone, that knowest how little account I make of this little honom* and service I have done unto thee; how far it is from^me to think I have said or written anything worthy of thee, and yet do nothing doubt but thou likest and acceptest well of what I have done, because I know it came of thee, that I should have the least will or skill to do it. Now, therefore, what is it I have to petition unto thee for, but that, as thou alone art worthy of that poor all that I am and can, so thou wouldest please to take possession, not of any comer or limb, but of the whole temple of my soul, and tabernacle of my body. Thou who scom-gedst out of thy Father's house buyers and sellers, who turnedst out the mourners out of Jairus's doors, chase out of my heart all carnal desires and delights, troublesome passions, root out all thorny cares, cause eveiy proud thought and high imagination to fall as Dagon before thee, that thou mayest invest thyself in thine own thi'one, rule and reign as sole commander of mj'' ■will and aflectious, dwell in thine own shrine, adorn it here with thy gi'ace till thou replenish it with thy glory, even till thou thyself resignest up thy sceptre to thy Father, and God become All in All.

Luther's Prayer at his Death.

Thee, 0 Christ! have I known, thee have I loved, thee have I taught, thee have I trusted. Into thy hands do I commend my spirit.

AUGUSTINUS.

omnis mea copia extra cheistum egestas est.

Paulinus Nolamis Augustini Cocetaneus et Familiaris.

Vita Deus noster ; ligno mea vita pependit, Ut staret mea vita Deo : quid vita rependam Pro vita tibi Christe mea ? nisi forte salutis Accipiam caUcem, quo mc tua dextra propinat,

Ut sacro mortis preciosae proluar haustu.

Sed quid agam ? neque si proprium dem coi-pus in ignes,

Vilescamque mihi, nee sanguine debita fuso

Justa tibi solvam, quia me reddam tibi pro me.

Quis tibi penset amor ? Dominus mea forma fuisti,

IJt servus tua forma forem, sic semper ero impar, &c.

Haec tibi Cliriste tamen tenui fragilique paratu

Pro nobis facimus, toto quern corpore mundus

Non capit, angustum-:= cui coelum, terraque punctum est, &c.

Tu precor oli fons Christe meis innascere fibris,

Ut mihi viva tuas vena resultet aqu^.

Qui te Christe bibent dulci torrente refecti,

Non sitient ultra; sed tamen et sitient.

Totus enim dulcedo Deus, dilectio Christe es,

Unde replere magis quam satiare potes.

Jugifeuus semper biberis, turbamque sitimque,

Potantum exhaustu largior exsuperas.

Te Domine ergo Deus panem fontemque salutis,

Semper et esurient et sitient animae.f

Quid enim tenere, vel bonum, aut verum queant,

Qui non tenent summa3 caput, Veri bonique fomitem et fontem, Deum ?

Quem nemo nisi in Christo videt. Hie veritatis hxmen est, vitas via.

Vis, mens, manus, virtus patris, Sol sequitatis, fons bonorum, flos Dei,

Natus Deo, mundi sator; Mortalitatis vita, nostrse mors necis,

Magister hie virtutis est. Deusque pro nobis, atque pro nobis homo

Nos induendo se exuit, &e. Totaque nostra jure Domini vendicat

Et corda, et ora, et tempora; Se cogitari, intelligi, credi, legi,

Se vult timeri, et diligi, &c.*

Cum multa sint quibus per vitam egemus, aere inqtiam, lumine, alimento, vestibus, ipsis naturae faeultatibus et membris, fit tamen ut nuUius usum ex omnibus semper et ad omnia desideremus, sed nunc illud, nunc istud adhibeamus, alias alio ad praesentem inserviente neeessitatem; vestem quippe induimus quae alimoniam non praebet, sed cibum appetentibus aliud quaerendum est: contingere seu tractare cupientibus manus sufficit, sed cum auscultare oportet nihil eommodat. At Salvator in ipso viventibus sic semper et omnimodis adest, ut quibuscunque eoram necessitatibus eonsulat, et ipsis sit omnia, nee alio se vertere, nee aliunde qusrere quidquam sinat, non enim egent aliquo sancti quod ipse non sit: generat nimirum ipsos, educat, alit, et lumen ipsis est et oculus idem, altor simul et alimentum, panis, aqua, unguentum, vestimentum, via, et viae terminus. Membra nos sumus, ipse caput. Ccrtandum est ? Ipse certat una; praeclare certamus ?

* Felicis Natalis, 9. t Idem de Celso pucro. % Idem ad Ausonium.

prseses et arbiter certaminis; vincimus? ipse mox corona est, sic nnde-cunquo mentem nostram ad seipsum advertit, suavi tyraiinido ad so solum trahens, sibi soli cojiulans et astringens, nee ad aliud eti'uudi, ncc ullius rei amore implicari patitur: ipse domum cordis implet qui coelum et tcrram implet, et omnia in omnibus.*

Quid obsecro snmmum bonum in omnibus et per omnia qunsritis, eo uno neglccto qui omnia est in omnibus? Quare requiem animabus vestris quaeritia, et non invenitis? nisi quia perperam ibi quferitis ubi non est; extra Christum quod in eo solo est. Idooque carbones pro thesauro, arcam pro pretio, munusculum pro amica, gaudiola pro Amasio, vestigia pro cervo, phantasmata pro rebus, nubeculam pro Jmione, ancillulas pro Penelope, Tunbram pro coi-pore, viam pro patria, media pro fine, stillas tenuissimaa pro suavitatis abysso, vanitatem pro veritate amplexamini.f

Vana salus, et nulla salus considere mundo, Vera salus Christo credere, et una salus.

Christ all alone salvation brings, All other are deceitful things.

• Nic. Cabasilaa de vita in Christo, lib. i, t Hugo de sarictn viVtoTo in ■Rfclosiastem.

THE LIFE OF FAITH.

TO THE HONOUR AND USE OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

THOMiS EAEL OF SUFFOLK,

LORD OF WALDEN,

KNIGHT OF THE HONOURABLE ORDER OF THE GARTER,

ONE OF HIS majesty's MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL.

This manual I first consecrate to your Honour. The greatest greatness hath no greater honour belonging to it, than to be an Abrech to persons, books, and causes of this nature. Such cedars have their spreadth and tallness to shelter such fowls of the heaven under their shadow ; and faith is content in this valley of unbelief to receive defence and countenance, where it rather giveth both. As Christ, in that old allegoiy of Christopher,* seems to be supported by him, whom in truth he supporteth ; and verily, such books as have life in them, give a longer life to their patrons, than the stateliest buildings and largest monuments.

Principally, I dedicate and devote it to your use ; charity began at home. I first meditated, collected, and scribbled them for mine own benefit, carried them about me with Antoninus' title, ra ilg efidurov, Notes for myself. That which, with all my might in seeking, I have sought to attain, is the truth and efi'ect of that which many things promise, but faith is only able to perform. Fulness of joy and constancy of content, in the midst of the changes, wanes, eclipses, and fulls of all external things, and that one day, as well as another, throughout the course of a man's life, in that latitude and extent whereof this life is capable. To cry out, ' I have found it, I have found it,' might savour of vanity and arrogancy. Altogether to deny it, were an injur}' to the truth of God's Spu-it, word, and grace. Such as have found out saihng by the compass, the art of printing, or should one man discover a speedier passage to the Indies, or meet with a special cordial in physic, * Mclancth. iu Rhetoricis.

or any less profitable secret, should he not justly be censured as envious and injurious to let such an one die with himself? What a sacrilege were it, then, to engross such a true elixir of spiritual life, as upon some proof I am sure these prescripts contain. The substance, therefore, of them I imparted first to my flock in sermons ; nextly, considering how much I stood obliged to your Lordship, and what special use you might have of them, I translated and copied them out in the form wherein now I humbly commend and earnestly recommend them to your serious perusal and thorough trial.

If, upon both, good shall be thought the better, the more communicated, others shall account themselves beholden to your Honour as the principal occasion of publication.

More I would say, but I fear to spoil the elegancy of Augustine's preface to Romanian, by Englishing of it; wherein is the sum of what I would say. Whither referring your Lordship, I rest, and continue as ever I have done since my reference, without intermission, publicly and privately to pray to the Lord of lords, that you may find all favour in the eyes of God and man, and that all true happiness may be multiplied upon you and yours in this life and a better.

Your Lordship's in the Lord,

SAMUEL WARD.

THE LIFE OF FAITH.

CHAPTER I.

The Just shall live by his Faith.

The basest life excels the best mei-e being, as much as Aclara the red lump of earth whereof he was made. The living dog, the dead lion. Between life and life, what a breadth of difference is there ! from the mushroom to the angels, how many kinds of life ! Yea, in one and the same kind, how many degrees ! The bond-slave hath a hfe as well as the king, the sick man as the whole, but such as in comparison may rather be termed a death. One best there is in every kind, as it approacheth nearest to that fountain of life and being, with whom to be, and to be most happy, is all one. Poor man hath, or rather had, a certain pitch and period of happy life, consisting in the image and favom- of his Creator, from which having once ftillen, it would pity one to sec how lamely and blindly he re-aspires thereunto. The most part groping as the Sodomites after Lot's door, the bhnd misguiding the blind in the common labyrinth of error, each one imagining he hath found the way, and so tells his dream to his neighbour for a truth. The covetous, when he hath gotten goods, as if he had gotten the true good, applauds his soul, as if it were the soul of some swine, ' Soul, thou hast many goods, now,' &c. The voluptuous, when he hath satiated himself with the husk of pleasure, cries out, he hath lived the only royal and jovial life. The ambitious, when he hath climbed the pitch and slippery' hill of honour, builds his neSt in the stars, thinks himself in the sky, and highest sphere of happiness. Alas, alas ! do not all these know they are in the chambers of death ? Dead whilst they are alive ; no better than walking ghosts in the shapes of living men ; seeking and placing a spiritual and heavenly jewel in earthly pelf, in wateiy pleasures, in airy honours, which, being all dead, cannot afford that life which they have not themselves. Verily, if one live an hundred years, beget children, plant and build, and see no other good but such as "these, the untimely birth is better than he. What then ? Is this tree of life not to be recovered, nowhere to be found again? Yes, doubtless; though there be many by-paths, there is a way; though many errors, there is a truth ; though many deaths, there is a hfe. And behold, 0 man, that standest upon the ways, inquiring after life, he that is ' the Way, Truth, and Life,' that came to heaven to vancpiish death, and by his death hath brought thee to life again, who only liath tlie words of hfo, he hath shewed thee the true way to hfe. Hath ho not twice

or thrice shewed tliee in this lively oracle of his, The just shall live by faith ? Hab. ii. 4, Rom. i. 17, Gal. iii. 11, Heb. x. 13. Yea, but if a man like to ourselves might come from the dead, that hath made proof of this way and life, and would speak of his own experience, would we hear ? Behold Paul slain by the law, revived by the gospel; what do we think of him ? Did he not, from the time of his conversion to the time of his dissolution, enjoy a constant tenor of joy ? live, if ever any, comfortably, happily ? and doth not he tell us, even while he Uved in the flesh, that he lived by the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ ? Gal. ii. 20. Surely he must needs be blessed,that liveth by the same faith with blessed Paul. Come, therefore, you which desire to see good days, and lay hold on the ways of life; ' beheve and hve.'

CHAPTER II.

Christ the Fountain, and Faith the Mean of Ldfe.

What then ? Commit we sacrilege against Christ in deifying of faith ? Rob we the Lord to adorn the servant with his divine honours ? God forbid. Let that be given to Christ which is Christ's, and that to faith which is faith's. Let the power of life and death be entirely reserved, ever ascribed to the Lord of life, the well of life, the light and life of the world, the breath of our nostrils, the life of our lives. Thy body, 0 man! hath its soul, which enlives it, and so hath thy soul its soul whereby it lives, and that is Christ, the quickening Spirit. Take away the soul from the body, and earth becomes earth; sever Christ and the soul, what is it but a dead carrion ? Elementary bodies lighten and darken, cool and wami, die and revive, as the sun presents or absents itself fi'om them. Christ is to our souls the Sun of righteousness. Sin parts us, faith re-unites us ; and so we live, primarily and properly, by Christ as by the soul; by faith, secondarily, as by the spirits, the bond of soul and body; by a personal and special faith appropriating Christ to the believer, as the leg or arm lives by proper sinews, arteries, and nei^ves, uniting it to the Uver, heart, and head ; such an one as Paul had in Christ that died for him, whereby he engrosseth the common God to himself, as if his and nobody's else.-

Thus saith he himself that is the Truth and the Life, ' I am the life and resurrection of the world ; he that believeth in me, though he be dead, yet shall he live and not die,' John xi. 25. And this is the testimony of those thi'ee heavenly and earthly witnesses, 1 John v. : God gave Ufe to the Son; and he that hath the Son, hath life ; and he that hath faith, hath the Son. So that whatever we lend to faith, it redounds to the honour of Christ; neither have we any sinister intent to praise the womb or the paps of faith, but to cast all upon Christ, who gives and works this faith in us, virifies and nourishes it, yea, justifies the imperfection thereof by the perfection of his merit. Naj^ let faith know, that if she should wax arrogant towards her Lord, or insolent over her fellow-servants, she should, Lucifer-like, fall from her dignity ; and in so doing, of the best of graces, become the worst of vices. Verily, what hath the habit of faith, in itself considered, better

* Chrysost. in 1 Cor. i. 10, Eu^j/ocg/gp ru ^ew fiov, agTra^s/ xa/ tdiovoisirai riv xoimv Q'eov.

THE LIFE OF FAITH.

19

or equal with love ? Is it not a poorer and meaner act to believe, than to love ? more like a beggarly receiving, than a working and desen-iug hand ? Hail, then, 0 faith, freely graced, graciously exalted above all Christ's handmaids. Thy Lord hath looked upon thy mean estate, because that, having nothing of thine own, as other virtues have, whence thou mightst take occasion to rejoice, thou mightst the better exclude that hateful law of boasting, the more humbly and frankly reflect all upon thy Lord, who wiUingly emptied himself, that he might fill thee with honom-; whdes ho Bays to'the cured of the palsy, ' Go thy way, thy faith hath saved thee.' Henceforth calls he thee no more servant, or friend, but styles thee as Adam, his spouse, chavah, the mother of all hving; counts it no injuiy to divide his praises with thee, Ukes it well that thou which dost nothing but by him, shouldst be said to do all things which he doth; ' to purify the heart, to overcome the world, to save men,' &c. And e cnntra, he to do nothing without thee, which yet does all of himself. He could work no miracles in Capernaum, because they had no faith. So glorious and wonderful things are spoken of thee (I had almost said), so omnipotent is thy strength, which hast said to the sun and moon, ' Stand ye still;' yea, if but as big as the least grain, canst say to the gi-eatest mountains, * Remove.' What can God do which faith cannot do, if requisite to be done ? Questionless, justifying faith is not beneath mu-aculous in the sphere of its own activity, and where it hath the warrant of God's word. It is not a lesser power than these to say, ' Thy sins are forgiven thee, thy person is accepted of God ; whatever thou askest, thou shalt have,' &c. Wlierefore, we need not doubt under Christ, without fear of pncmunire, or offence to his crown and dignity, to affinn of faith, that it is God's arm and power to the enhving and saving of eveiy behever, as it is written, ' The just shall hvo by faith.'

CHAPTER III.

The third kind of the Life of Faith.

But lest we seem to speak swelling things, whiles we soar in the cloud of generalities, let us descend to some solid particulars. Three things there are, whence cometh death to the soul of man. Sin, with the guilt thereof, gives the first deadly blow, exposing it to the wrath of God, who is a consuming fire, whoso anger is the messenger of death, whence came the first thunderbolt, striking through the soul that sentence of God to Adam, * Thou shalt die ;' and such as Nathan's to David, * Thou hast smned, and art the chUd of death.'

The second is the spot and corruption of sin depraving, yea, deading all the faculties of man to spiritual actions, which made Paul cry out,' That which I would do, I do not; and, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from this body of death ?'

Thirdly, that swarm of plagues, and army of punishments, in the rearward whereof comes first a second death. All which made Job cry out, ' Why is light given to him that is in misery, which longs for death more than for treasures, and joy when they can find the gi-ave ?' Job iii. 20.

Were it not for these three, man might live, fare, and do well; but sin having entered into the world, brought in death with it, which reigneth and

triumplieth over the sons of Adam, with this three-forked sceptre, of guilt, of corruption, of punishment.

Here comes in faith with a threefold antidote, brings us to the tree of life, whose fruit and whose leaves heal us of the sting and deadly poison of sin, working in us a threefold life, opposite to the forenamed deaths.

The first is the life of righteousness, discharging us from the sentence of death, restoring the light of God's countenance, appeased in Chiist our Surety, which made David cry out, ' Blessed is the man whose sin is covered,' Ps. xxxii.

The second is the life of the Spirit, or new life, regenerating and reviving every faculty, and quickening us to every good work, which makes Paul glory that' he is able to do all things, through Christ enabling him,' Phil, iii.

The third is the life of joy and comfort, cheering the soul in the midst of aU trials and tribulations, which made Job, in the vaUey of death, exult and trust in his living Redeemer, and Paul insult over aU kind of calamities as more than conqueror, Rom. viii.

In these three, being contained whatever accomplisheth the life of the soul, may not faith well be said to supply abundantly all things pertaining to life and godUness ? But what do I treating of the kinds of life ? What should I blot paper, and tire my reader, in writing of the kinds of faith, the degrees of faith, or any other motions of faith, things so well known of those that know anything of Christ ? That nothing so much vexeth me to see so much spoken and written of faith, so little done by it, the theory of it so thoroughly canvassed and cleared in controversies and sermons, and the practice of it so obscm'ed and disgraced in the Uves of Christians.

CHAPTER IV.

Tlie Use of Faith.

Oh faith ! when I read of thee, when I meditate of thee, when I feel any part of thy virtue, I find thee to be a wonder-worker, I conceive nothing but high and stately things of thee. When I look into the world, and upon the lives even of such as caU themselves believers, especially of the common sort, I begin to question my thoughts for dreams, and to say, Faith, thou art but a name, a sound, a mere word, no powerful thing. Why are many of thy foUowers so dead, so mopish, so melancholy ? Why are worldly men as merry, as jocund as they ? Yea, why are many civil men as righteous as they ? Whence should this wrong and disparagement proceed ? Is thy virtue exhausted, thy strength decayed, in this old age of the world ? or is it because men know thee not ? Yerily, neither of these. No drug, no herb, so commonly extolled, so famously known.

Paul of old, Luther of late, with infinite more, every catechism have blazoned its name, described its nature, set out its properties and effects to the full. Only the miseiy is, the world either knows not the use, or forgets the practice of it. There wants a practical Luther, which should deal by faith as Socrates by philosophy, who brought it out of the skies and books into cities and houses, taught and urged the familiar and quotidian use of it.

Doth not all the praise, beauty, and lustre of faith, as well, or more than of other virtues, consist in action, and not in notion ? Is not the gain

and benefit of it in sense and feeling, not in knowledge or discourse ? Is not the throne and seat of it rather in the heart than in the head ? Who knows not there is a doctrinal speculation and discourse of faith easily by reading and hearing attained ? Such an one as scholars, that never went out of their studies and schools, have of remote countries, of their commodious situations, pleasant rivers, high mountains, costly buildings, rich mines, jewels, and other commodities ; with what a frigid and jtjune contemplation is it, in comparison of that delight and benefit which the merchant and traveller enjoyeth by a real sight and fruition of them ? What is the notional sweetness of honey or sugar to the experimental taste of them ? And yet this airy, windy stuff is all the world, at this day, cares for and himts after. The schoolmen and casuists, what do they but languish into useless, needless, and endless questions, spending theirthoughts about this magnificent virtue, in cold and bloodless subtleties of the subject, object, kinds, &c. ?

Preachers for the most part inuring themselves to declaim in praise of some moral virtue, and to inveigh against some Aices of the times, happily sometimes find Icism'e to weave a curious spider's web in commendation of faith, rarely shewing or pressing the use of it.

In a word, will you see the fashion of the world ? The schools dispute of it, the pulpit preacheth of it, profession talketh of it, profane men swear by it, two or three, few or none, live by it. I met Avith a story of an ancient Hebrew, a reverend Rabbi, who, that he might the more lively convince the people in his time of their neglect of practice of this excellent grace, put himself into the habit of a mountebank or travelling aquavitae-man, and made proclamation of a sovereign cordial water of fife he had to sell. Being called in, and demanded the show of it, he tm-ned them to the Bible, the fountain of life, and to several places of it, as the 34th psalm, &c., intimating that if they would make use, and daily drink of the water they had, they might (as it should seem he did) live fai* better, and more comfortably than usually they did.

And, indeed, why is there such a price put into the hands of fools, that know not the worth and improvement of it ? As secrets and mysteries in good ai-tizans, that have sometimes a faculty whereby they can earn ten or twenty shillings the day, and might live as well as landed men; but then they have another boon withal, they love idleness, pastime, and good-fellowship, and so live like beggars ; or as land and money in the hands of those (whom we therefore aptly call misers) to have and to hold, but never make good use of it. Who may well be said to use the world as if they used it not, for they put it forth to use, or lock it from themselves and others, go basely, fare hardly, live in debt to back and belly, as if they knew not it would buy them good meat and good clothes, and other necessaries and conveniences for their lives. It is possible a man may have a tool, a medicine, or an engine, and not the skill or strength to use it. It is possible a man may have a gift of God, and not the gift to use it thoroughly, else needed not Paul call on Timothy to stir up the gift that was in him. Among all the gifts of God there is none more useful than faith. Others ai'e profitable for some few things; this is for this life, and the life to come, for all parts and pui-poses of our lives; in the use of it manifold and rich every manner of way.

VOL. m.

aa THE LIFE OP FAITH.

CHAPTER V.

The first use of Faith to new-horn Babes.

And first, let me begin with tliee that art beginning to live this life, thou embryo that art in hatching, that hast so much life- as to know thyself dead in sin, and to desire to Uve m Christ (for what should I cast away speech upon skelets* and skuUs, carnal men I mean, mere strangers to this life of faith ? I expect not reading should put life and spirit into them, only I pray for such, that they may hear God's voice in the ministry, and live). But as for thee whom the law hath wounded, and the gospel is healing, who art even at the birth, and stickest between the knees, only wantest power to come into the light, who livest, but feelest not thy life, boldest Christ but with benumbed hands, believest, but canst not yet believe thou hast faith, what is the matter thou art still ensnared in the cords of death ? Why loosest thou not the handkerchiefs, and comest out of thy gi-ave, and walkest cheerfully in the land of the living ? Suffer faith to do her perfect work in thee, to form Christ in thee. Suffer not thyself always to be detained in the throes and throbs of fear and doubt.

The common causes of this slowness of belief and snares of death, I observe in most to be one of these three :

First, Immoderate aggravation of sin.

Secondly, Foolish and proud humility.

Thirdly, Preposterous desire of sanctification before justification.

First, Thou wouldest believe, but thou hast been a sinner. Whom came Christ to save but sinners ? And whom doth he justify but the ungodly ? 0, but thy sins are scarlet, crying, scandalous sins ! Said I not aU things are possible to faith, only if thou canst believe ? Are not all faults easily pardonable to an infinite mercy, which exceeds man's as heaven doth earth, which can readilier forgive seventy than man seven offences ? Well did Martinus answer the devil, himself objecting his former life to him, that even he might be pardoned if he could believe. Did not Christ take the flesh of Rahab and Bathsheba, and did he refuse to take their sins upon him ? Did not his blood wash David's bloody sin as white as snow ? Doth not he delight to forgive much, that he may bind to love much ? Shall not his favour abound to the sense of thy faith, where sin hath abounded to the wounding of thy heart ? But thou art an old habituate sinner. As if Christ came fi-om heaven to cure only smaU scars, green cuts, and not deep inveterate wounds, diseases of eight, of twelve, of eight and thirty years old, to cast out smgle devils, and not legions also. 0, then, take heed thou add not to thy great and many sins a greater than all, Cain's sin, which was greater in infidelity than in fratricide. All thy help is to look off thyself, an object of confusion, and to look upon Chi'ist, an object of consolation ; and then, how fiery and deadly soever thy sting be, by mere looking (a strange cure, I confess, yet most approved), that is, by sole beheving, thou shalt be cured, and live.

Secondly, But, forsooth, thou wilt be more mannerly than so. With Peter, thou wilt not suffer Christ's precious hands to wash thy foul feet. Take heed thy modesty tm-n not into pertinacy, lest he swear in his anger thou shalt have no part in him, if thou stubbornly refuse his gracious offer. He liked well the humility of that Canaanitish that bore the term of dog, but better her confidence that would not be said nay of the crumbs of his » That is, ' Skeletons.'— Ed.

table. And shalt thou not ten times more honour him and please him in trusting his mercy, and scaling to his truth, than in fearing his justice, and dreading his power ? Take hoed of pride in the clothes of humility. Bo not deceived ; it is pride, and high pi-ide, not to come when thou art called. Faith is obedience, and obedience is more acceptable than courtesy and compliment. The sooner thou comcst the better welcome. It is rudeness, and not good manners, not to do as thou art bidden to do, yea, so often and earnestly charged to do. To do the work of God is to beheve in him (John vi.) whom he hath sealed and sent to be thy Saviour.

Thirdhf, Oh! but thou wouldst fain first repent, amend, and do some good works, and then thou wouldst be bold to come. That is, thou thiukest thou shalt not be welcome unless thou come with thy cost. Thou wouldst accept of a pardon if thou mightst pay for it; but his are free, and he bids thee come and buy without silver, or else he says, thou and thy money perish. Thou wouldst go the old and natural way to work. ' What shall I do to inherit everlasting life ? ' but that is now for-done and impassable through our infirmity. Besides, before thou canst walk or work, thou must be alive. Did Christ indent with Zaccheus for restitution and alms ? Or Paul bid the jailor first repent, become a new man, and then beheve ? No, they Imew that the one would voluntarily, necessarily, together and immediately follow, or rather accompany the other. Wherefore swim out of these weeds, lay hold on the rock, and to facilitate thy birth by the act of belie\ing, set before thy eyes Chi-ist's freedom to all suitors in the time of his flesh, repelling none that truly desired the price of his blood. And especially, God's esteem of faith above all other gi-aces, deeds, or acts of thine.

Study, strive, endeavour to believe, as thou dost in a difficult point to conceive. Pray for a faculty, and for the act of believing. Be not ever beheving, and never a believer; ever beginning to Uve, and never h\ing. Live to-day, to-day is salvation ofiered, step from death to life, and write this day thy birthday, and number from hence the days of thy life, in which, of a child of perdition, thou art made the son of God through faith, and so made for ever. Dost thou beheve this with thy whole heart? Drive on the chariot of thy life with joy and rejoicing till thou come to the maxk.

But what sign shall I have of the truth of my faith ? May it not be presumption, if without repentance and sanctity ? How shall I be s^e it is not that vain and dead faith St James speaketh of!

At the first it shall suffice to find and feel a change of the mind, an unfeigned purpose, desire, and resolution of new universal obedience, which ia contemporary' with faith, though the younger and a second brother in order of nature ; which, where it is, sufficeth to warrant frath, and to embolden the conscience in the first act of conversion. Zaccheus the jailor, and all new converts, had not any more, could have no experience of amendment of life, and yet reUed upon the word, ' Beheve, and thou shalt be saved.'

CHAPTER VI.

Tlie use of Faith to Young Men m Christianity.

Put off now thy sackcloth and ashes; put on the garments of joy and gladness. Let not white raiment be wanting, nor oil to thy head. Live,

I say, live to-day, live to-morrow, live, 0 Chiistian, for ever. Not for one or a few days, but all the days of thy life.

This thou mayest do, if thou wilt learn to use thy faith, not as men use wedding apparel, for a week or two after man-iage, and then lay it up for high and solemn days only. This indeed is the fashion of believers at their first conversion, being justified, to have peace and joy in believing the remission of their sins, and for a while to be glad of their estate, but then to neglect and terminate the use of faith, as if it had now done all it should or could do ; except till they relapse again into some foul sin, then to recover life again, using it as usquebagh and strong waters for swoons and heart qualms only, not being acquainted with a daily and quotidian improvement of it; which ought to be as constant and continuate as is the use of fire and water, of salt, of bread, or wine, or whatever is more ordinary and necessary than other: such as no part of our Hves may well be without. Serves faith for entrance and beginnings, and not for proceedings and increasings ? Are we not nourished by the same elements of which we consist ?

Is faith the midvvdfe, and breeder of joy and peace, and not the nurse and foster-mother of them; cherishing and feeding thee till thou come to a full and perfect age in Christ ? Is not the fruit of it sweeter in the ear than in the blade ?

Hearken therefore to me, 0 thou of little faith, and less use of it. Dost thou desire to have a continual feast, to rejoice always in the Lord ? I know thou desirest it with aU thy soul.

Let me prescribe a diet, a daily diet without omission, strictly to be kept (the Lord give thee and me grace to observe it). Look how duly thou re-freshest thy bodily spirits, by use of repast or recreations ; so often at the least be sure to cheer up thy soul by the use of thy faith.

Let thy soul have two or three walks a day up to Mount Tabor, that is, into some retired place of meditation and prayer, such as Isaac's field, Cornelius's leads, David's closet, &c.

But what is there to be done ? I answer, still make use of thy faith.

But what is that you call using of faith ? I now come to the point, to the chief mystery of spiritual hfe. Stir up thy soul in this mount to converse with Christ. Look what promises and privileges thou dost habitually believe, now actually think of them, roU them imder thy tongue, chew on them till thou feel some sweetness in the palate of thy soul. View them jointly, severally. Sometimes muse of one, sometimes of another more deeply, and lest (as patients oft do in physicians' bills) thou still complain of obscurity, thus do : think with thyself how excellent a thing it is to have all thy debts cancelled, how sweet a thing to have God appeased, how glorious a thing to be the son of God, how happy and safe a condition for thee to be sure of thy perseverance and salvation, how pleasant a state to be void of the fear of death and heU, how richly and stately a thing to be heir of glorj'.

Feast-makers in ancient time had special officers that cheered up their guests; they thought it not enough to set store of meat before them, but one must come in and say, Fall to and be merry, Let us eat and drink, It is a good time, &c.

Thus say to thyself, as Paul to the Corinths [io^rccZ^u/Mv), Let us feast and be merry. Christ hath made holidaj^s, our paschal lamb is slain. Have any more cause to be merry ? With these soUloquies mingle some ejaculations to heaven, for grace and aid. And leave not, descend not this mount tni thou findest and feelest thy goul in some cheerly plight, revived

and warmed with these spiritual flagons of wine, in the strength whereof thou mayest walk all the day following.

v." This is that which the Spouse calls ' walking into the gardens and eating ipf the fruits,' &c. Which, in plain terms, I call using of faith, and living 'jy faith. Which, if thou wilt duly inure thyself unto, thou wilt not marvel why I called it ' ascending Mount Tabor.' Thou wilt say thyself, upon good proof, ' It is good to be here,' daily to be here, often to come hither. This is that exercise of faith which Paul enjoins Timothy, and calls stu-ring up, or enkindling.

Fire in the embers unstirred glows not, heats not the house; sugar in the cup unstirred sweetens not the wine. And in such it is all one not to have faith, and not to use it. It may well be said of money-hoarders, They have no quicksilver, no current money; they have no more that which they have than that which they have not. And so of such believers as do not thus use their faith, they have no Uvely faith. They were almost as good (for matter of feeling, and for present comfort) be without faith. A man is Uttle the better for a sleeping habit. It is a rare portion, saith Solomon, and that which God gives only to such as are good in his eyes, to make use of wealth, to eat, to drink, and be merry : it is a much rarer to use faith. What is a man the better for a lock, if he have not the key to use it withal ? It is not a trade, but a trade well followed; it is not land, but land weU tilled ; that maintains men.

0 that this did as clearly appear to the world in the matter of faith, as it doth in all other habits, gi-aces, gifts, virtues, and good things whatsoever, that the principal beauty and benefit of them consists in 'ise, fruition, and action; not the bare possession; yea, the very increase and perfection of them! Use limbs, and have limbs; the more thou dost, the more thou mayest. The oftener the Uberal man gives alms, and does good turns, the more his liberality grows and shines. Use -nill breed perfect-ness, and through disuse things perish and come to nothing ; as the ploughshare, laid up, rusts and consumes; employed, gHsters, doth good, and lasts the longer. Let any man diligently and thoroughly improve, and great will be his faith, and great the joy it wiU bring in.

CHAPTER VII.

An Enforcement of the former Use, uith a Ueproof of the Neglect and Disuse of Faith.

Wherefore I say again, ' Live by faith;' again I say, always live by it, rejoice always through faith in the Lord. I dare boldly say. It is thy fault and neglect of this exercise if thou suffer either thy own melancholy humour or Satan to interrupt thy mirth and spiritual alacrity, and to detain thee in dumps and pensiveness at any time. What if thou beest of a sad constitution, of a dark complexion ? Is not faith able to rectify nature ? is it not stronger than any hellebore ? Doth not an experienced both divine and physician - worthily prefer one dram of it before all the drugs in the apothecar}''s shop for this effect ? Hath it not sovereign virtue in it to excerebratef all cares, expectorate all fears and griefs, evacuate the mind of all ill thoughts and passions, to exhilarate the whole man ? But what • Dr Bright of Melancholy. t That is, ' clear the brain of them.'— Ed.

good doth it to any to have a cordial by him if he use it not ? to wear a sword soldier-Hke by the side, and not to draw it forth upon an assault ? When a dump overtakes thee, if thou wouldst say to thy soul in a word or two, ' Soul, why art thou disquieted ? Know and consider in whom thou believest.' Would it not presently return to its rest again ? Would not the Master rebuke the wdnds and storms, and calm thy mind presently? Hath not every man something or other wherewithal he useth to put away dumps, to drive away the ill spirit, as David with his harp: some with merry company, some with a cup of sack, most with a pipe of tobacco, without which they scarce ride or go. If they miss it a day together, they are troubled with rheums, dulness of spirits. They that live in fens and ill airs, dare not stir out without a morning draught of some strong liquor. Poor, silly, smoky helps in comparison of the least taste (but for dishonouring of faith I would say whiff), or draught of faith.

0 that wise Christians would as often take the one side as idle gulls do the other! Would not the drawing in of sweet air from the precious promises breed excellent blood and cheerly spirits ? It is a mystery in bodily health that to keep the arteries and the nostrils, veins and other passages to head, heart, and liver clear and free from colds and obstructions, maintains a healthful and cheerful temper. The pipe of faith is the same to the soul. He that is asthmatical, narrow-breathed, or strait-breasted in his faith, cannot be but lumpish and melancholy. Wherefore as thou lovest thy mirth above all other, tend this vital artery; above all keepings keep thy faith, and it will keep thy joy. It will keep it in an even, ever-flowing current, without ebb and flow, clouds and eclipses, turning ever upon the hinges of heavenly and solid mirth. And, indeed, how or why should it be otherwise ? Do not Christians consider how unseemly it is for them to go drooping, hanging the head ? Is any so simple to think, because he is a Christian, that he should afiect a sad carriage, a dejected look, a demure countenance like an image ? Away with such monkish hypocrisy ! How doth it become the righteous to rejoice ? Do they not consider how they wrong themselves of the main benefit of their justification ? What is a Christian but his mirth ? Wherein doth the kingdom of heaven consist but in joy ? Do they not see how they ofi'end standers-by and beholders ? Is not heaviness a check that drives away, and mirth as a lure that wins, to the liking of their profession ? Men wonder to see a rich man, that hath the world at will, all things at heart's desire, to be but in a fit of heaviness. What, say they, should he ail ? The Irish ask such what they mean to die. But I wonder a thousand times more to see one that hath Chi'ist his friend, that believes God to be his shepherd, that knows all must work for the best, to be at any time out of tune, or out of sorts. For a Nabal to be all amort hke a stone, it is no news to me; but to see Nehemiah's countenance changed, there must needs be some extraordinary cause. Should such a man as he fear, or cark, or grieve ? What if it do not yet appear what thou shalt be ? Is a yoimg ward prouder and gladder (in his minority) of an uncertain reversion, than a yeoman of his present estate ? And is not faith an hypostasis and evidence to thee of an infallible inheritance ? Canst thou be sad, which mayest say, not to thy belly, but to thy soul, Thou hast, not many goods, but fulness of all treasures, laid up, not in the earth, where moth and canker and thieves may come; but in heavenly places, out of the devil's reach, and that not for many years, but for ever and ever, never to be taken from thy soul, nor thy soul from them ? 0 thou vain man ! shew me thy faith by thy joy.

If thou livest dumpishly, and yet say thou Uvest by faith, I will as soon believe thee as him that shall say he hath the philosopher's stone and lives like a beggar. If it were ever well with thy faith, could it ever be amisa with thee ? Should not the temper of thy body follow the temper of thy soul, and the temper of thy soul the temper of thy faith ? The body may incline the soul, but the soul commands the body, and faith is the lord of them both. According to thy faith so be it unto thee, so will it be with thee. Use thy faith, and have joy; increase thy faith, and increase thy joy.

CHAPTER VIII.

The Use of Faith to a grown Chiistian.

Nay, Christian, now I have gotten thee hither, I must draw thee yet a peg higher, and tell thee, it is a small thing for thee to come to an ordinary pitch of cheerfulness, except thy joy exceeds the mirth of a worldling, yea, of a professed epicure, in the quality and quantity of it. If thy mirth be not a sweeter and more ravishing mu*th, of an higher kind, of a more pure defecate* natm-e, of a more constant tenure, than any carnal man whatever, thou disparagest faith, thou art very little and young in the kingdom of heaven, which consists not in meats and drinks, but in joy unspeakable *nd glorious, in the joy of the Holy Ghost. And must not that needs be another manner of joy than ever entered into the heart of a natural man, than ever a Sardanapalus tasted of ? Yes, undoubtedly. So must be construed that text, 1 Cor. ii., not of the joys of heaven, which here the spiritual man himself cannot tell what they shall be, but of the gospel's joy, of the wine and fatlings already prepared, and now revealed to the behever by the Sphit; which if the carnal man scorn and scoff at, thou canst no more help him, or prove to him, than a seeing man to a blind man, that he sees orient rich colours. It is enough for thee secretly to feel and enjoy it. Only it ought in thy life to be expressed ; yea, so to shine in thy forehead, so to be read in the very face of thee, that their teeth may be set on edge, and that they may inquire, what is thy beloved above other beloveds ? what is that makes this man thus merry in all estates ? Thus let them envy at thine, let not thy soul descend to theu-s.

Are not the gleanings of Ephi-aim better than the vintage of Abiezer ? Shouldst thou that hast tasted of the grapes of Canaan, long after the onions and garlic of Egypt ? Is Pharphar like unto Jordan ? hast not thou rivers of water ever flowing out of thy belly ? and wilt thou stoop to their puddle waters, to their stolen waters, bousmg, carding, dicing, whoring, &c., which should not thy soul altogether loathe and abhor, after the taste of faith's nectar and ambrosia ? But even their ordinary and lawful delights, the wine and oil, music, hunting, hawking, &c. To these God allows thee to stoop for thy body's sake, as the eagle to the prey, or as Gideon's soldiers to sup thy handful, not to swill thy bellyful. If Plato could tell the musicians, that philosophers could dine and sup without them, how much more easy is it for St Augustine to wean himself from the childish rattles and May-games of carnal delights, to be merry without the fiddle ? Good leave hast thou, yea, right and title to use all external recreations, whereof before thou wert * That is, without sediment or alloy Ed.

but an usurper, but use them aright as if thou usedst them not, knowing how to put thy knife to thy throat, and how to be without them, to be as one that Uveth not by them, but by faith.

Were it not odious to see a man that hath a spouse peerless for beauty, to hve with a deformed blouse ? to see one professing some liberal science, to live by some base manual trade ? No better sight is it to see a Christian upholding his joy by coarse and earthly pleasures, that hath more noble and generous, yea, angelical delights; than which, what hath heaven better but in degree only, and manner of fruition ? what hath this world comparable ? Alas! poor philosophers, when I read your treatises of tranquillity of mind, of consolation, of remedies against both fortunes, though in some things you come near the kingdom of heaven, yet how dull are your comforts to one of ours ? the highest of yours to the lowest of om'S ? Had you but through a crevice or lattice seen the things which the eye of faith seeth with open face, how would you, in comparison of Christianism, have loathed your stoicism and epicurism ? Had you but with the tip of your tongue tasted of faith's dainties, how would you have magnified faith above all your cardinal virtues ! You that^ so composed your lives by jejune and empty contemplations of an autarchy in virtue by the rules of nature ; what stately lives would you have led and lived, if the grace and hopes of the gospel had appeared to you by the rules of faith ! As for you, poets of the lighter and pleasanter vein, when I read your odes and sonnets, chanting out your choice joys and loves, your wishes and vows, framing a conceited happiness to yourselves, as the highest you could imagine or desire, what low strains and mean air do I reckon them, in comparison of our Ckristian and divine hymns ! what pitiful subjects for such sublimated wits ! What difference between yoiu- oaten pipes, and our heavenly harps ! Solomon, that loved both these loves, lived both hves, and sung songs of both sorts ; when God raised his muse to a higher tune, and taught it to sing the Song of Songs, how despised he his former windy vanities, in comparison of his new spiritual delicacies !

Wherefore, 0 Christian, that hast such transcendent objects of thy thoughts above all other men, why shouldst thou not ever keep thy soul upon the wing, ever in a manner be in the third heavens, rolling and tumbling thy soul in these beds of roses: I mean these meditations of thy justification, sanctification, and salvation through Christ, without which why should one day pass thee ? why any one part of a day ? Why should not thy soul have her due drinks, breakfasts, meals, undermeals, bevers,* and aftermeals, as well as thy body ? Thus to redeem time, thus to task and tie thy soul to such a heavenly round of work, would it not make the mill of time pleasant, the yoke of business easy ? would not precious time glide swiftly and easily away, like a boat with full wind and tide, needing no oars; or a free mettled horse needing no spurs, needing no idle pastime to di'ive it before thee ? Shall it not be a pleasure to thee to want other pleasures ? Thus mayest thou make all thy days, Christ-tides, Easters, Whitsundays, birthdays and holidays ; not envying Felix his felicity, Festus his festivity, not Dives his daily purple and delicious fare, but living a hfe kingly and angelical in comparison of the vulgar sort.

That is, ' draughts.'— Ed.

CHAPTER IX.

An Objection Answered, and Passage made to tlie TAJe of Sanctijication.

Happily thou repliest, all this were possible and easy, were it not for that even amidst this diligent practice of ftiith, even in the strictest watch, in many things the best fail, many kno^vn frailties wiU escape, and more escape unknown; and how can mirth choose but be damped with fi-equent slips?

The answer is, such an one as keeps the watch of his God, and pretermits no day without the foremcntioned duties, shall seldom or never fall into any foul slough, and dash the ship of his faith against any dangerous rock; and if he do, long he cannot lie, but his faith will set him on work to go out, weep bitterly, and make his peace presently with his Lord and conscience, that he may enjoy his wonted repasts. And for his ordinary infirmities it will daily fetch him out a pardon of course, washing and scoui'ing his soul every morning and evening, more duly than any pharisee his face or hands ; and set him on work every day as he runs into arrearages, to draw the red lines of Christ's cross over the black lines of God's debt-book. And what if, as an all-seeing God, he sees our violation of his law, and knows better than our own consciences every peccant act of ours, in thought, word, or deed ; what if God look upon the handwriting against us ; doth he not see the biUs cancelled with the precious blood of his Son and our Surety ? which, for matter of guilt, defilement, and punishment, is all sufficient to expunge, cover, nulhfy, abolish, and wholly to take away our sins, in such sort, that he neither sees, will see, nor can see, them as sins and debts bearing action against us, obliging us to any penalty, no more than the creditor who, though he sees the items in his book, and knows what debts have been, yet sees them crossed, cleared. And what thought then need the debtor take for such debts ? Why, but is not this to make faith a pander to sin ? And to make good the papists' and worldlings' slander of Solifidians, that make no more of it but drink and take tobacco; sin, and believe; get a pardon of the old and a license for the new.

Oh ! peevish and froward generation, to whom it is not given to know the mystery of faith, which is of the nature of sovereign, mundifying- waters, which so wash ofi" the corruption of the ulcer, that they cool the heat and stay the spread of infection, and by degi'ees heal the same; and of cordials, which so comfort and ease the heart, as also they expel the noxious humours and strengthen nature against them.

These are ministered only to prepared bodies, these pearls are not for swine, this divinity we preach not in Gath and Askelon to uncircumcised profane ones, that will turn every good thing to their own destruction. But this belongs to the sealed fountain, to the spouse of Christ alone, which, when she hath washed her feet, how loath is she to foul them again ? When she hath appeased her beloved, how doth she adjure herself and others, by the hinds and roes, not to awaken and ofi'end him again ?

The text saith not. Every hj-pocrite, every profiigate professor of faith, that lives as he lists, shall live by his faith, but the 'just,' or ' righteous.' "WTiich golden sentence is, indeed, ambiguously enunciated of purpose by the Holy Ghost, that it may either way be taken, ' The just by his faith shall live;' or, ' The just shaU hve by his faith;' yet so, as it hath but one right ear * That is, cleansing.— Ed.

to be holden by, and that is only for the band of the righteous man ; impty. ing that whosoever believes or lives by his faith, is also, and must of necessity be, a righteous man, a just man, not only imputatively, but inherently in part; such an one as unfeignedly loveth righteousness, studieth the practice of it, denieth and hateth all unrighteousness, endeavoureth every day to be more and more righteous, and so deserveth the denomination of righteous.

So that, look how the rational soul includeth andimplieth the animal, so doth justification sanctification, being individual.*

CHAPTER X.

How Faith Sanctifies and Mortifies.

So I slide into the second part or kind of Christian life, consisting in holiness and righteousness, which I shall easily demonstrate not only to be an indi\adual companion, but a natural and necessary effect of faith.

For look how the strength of the heart breeds not only cheerfulness but activeness; motion as well as health (whence it is that life is put for liveliness and agility) drives away all lassitude, hebetude, and indisposition, brings in aptness and dehght to stir; the like doth faith in the soul, which may, as the fonner in the body, for a time stand with some slight distempers, spots of the skin, ache of limbs, but not long with deadly diseases, either vanquishing them or vanquished by them. This noble use of faith will excellently appear in both the parts of this new life, mortification and vivifi-cation; and in each of these two manner of ways faith doth produce this effect: partly as a moving, partly as a procreant cause. In the fii'st kind, admirable is the Peitho and Suadeof of faith above all the oratory in the world. All the common incentives taken from profit, pleasure, and honour, all the topic places of logic, figures of rhetoric ; what poor and weak engines are they to the ii-resistible petarre of faith, which saj-eth but Ephphatha, and presently our everlasting gates yield and stand open.

For thus it goes to work with us; Hath Christ given himself for thee, forgiven thee so many debts, confeiTed favours of all kinds upon thee; and what hast thou to retribute ? If thou give all thy goods to the poor, thy body to the fire, thy soul to his sei-vice, yea, were every hair of thine head a man or angel, were not all short of recompense ? Lovest thou, lovest thou this Saviour of thine? and darest thou, or wilt thou dare, venture upon anything displeasing him ? is there anything too good, too hard or dear for him ? Mary, if thy tears will wash his feet, wilt thou not pour them out ? Is thine hair too good to be the towel ? Is there any spikenard too costly for his head ? Joseph, the Lord requireth the handsel of thy tomb, and wilt thou deny him ? Zaccheus, lovest thou thy wealth above his honour that hath saved thee ? Stephen, lovest thou thy life above thy Master ? Can, or did, any beUever give the nay to these melting commands, or commanding entreaties of faith ? "Will it take the repulse ? Doth it not constrain and extort more than all racks and strappadoes ? allure more than all wages and prizes ? Doth not this magnet as easily draw weighty iron as other jet doth straws ? So that when thou wouldst be sure to speed and obtain any-

* That is, indivisible or inseparable.— Ed.

t That is, ' the iruQu and Suader,' the persuasive power of faith.— Ed.

thing of thine untoward heart, set faith a-work to make the motion, and that will be sure to speed; not only by this persuading faculty, but also by a divine power secretly eflfecting what it requires, conveying into the heart will, and ability unto the deed. It stands not without doors as a mendicant, flexaminous •■■ persuader, but enters into the closets of the heart, shoots the bars, unlocks the bolts, takes away all reluctation and redaction, infuseth a pliable willingness ; of wolfish and dogged, makes the will lamb-hke and dove-like ; of wild and haggard, morigerous and mansuete.

No otherwise than the medicine curing the vicious stomach, and restoring it to health, makes it long for wholesome meat, as before for coals and ashes.

All this it doth by fetching supernatui'al efficacy from the death and hfe of Christ; yea, part of that mighty power whereby Christ raised himself from the dead, cured all diseases, and wrought all his miracles; by the virtue whereof it metamorphoscth the heart of man, creates and infuseth new principles of action. Make trial of this in mortifying thy flesh to sin, and quickening thy spirit to holiness.

For example, complainest thou of some prevalent conniption, some violent passion that oft carries thee headlong against thy desu-e and resolution, as Castnisius to Jerome, "WTio shall help me subdue Nebuzaradan, Goliah, Holofemes, my raging lusts that are too mighty for me ? Answer thyself as David himself to the like, ' Through thee, 0 Lord, shall we do vahautly; over Edom shall I cast my shoe,' &c. Yea, when thou hast spent all thou hast upon other physicians, tried all moral conclusions of purposing, promising, resolving, vowing, fasting, watching, self-revenging, yet get thee to Christ, and with a finger of faith touch but a hem of his garment, and thou shall feel \drtue come from him to the curing of thy disease. What if thou hast often encountered thine enemy and received the foil, relapsed after \'ictory ? Yet cast not away the shield of faith; but, with the Israelites against the Benjamites the second and third time, set afresh in the name of the Lord, and they shall fly before thee.

Complainest thou with Augustine of his inbred, hereditary, habitual, inveterate vices, holding thee in the adamantine chains of custom, against which thou hast often resolved and resolved, modo et moJo, now I will leave them, and now I will forsake them. AVhy should I not, as well as such and such, as Potitian and Yictorinus? And 3'et they keep thee prisoner still, fuU against thy will and endeavours. Find out the cause which he had revealed to him. In tc stas et non stas, Thou standest upon thine own feet, and therefore fallest so foully; thou wilt, like a child, go alone and of thyself, and therefore gettest so many knocks. Die to thyself, renounce the broken reed of thine own free will, which hath so often deceived thee, and put all thy trust in the grace of Christ, and it will crucify the old man, and give him his hoc hahet, his death's wound, pierce his sides, and break his knees in pieces. Be weak in thyself and strong in the Lord, and through faith thou shalt be more than conqueror. Leave tugging and struggling with thy sin, and fall, with Jacob, to wrestle with Christ for a blessing; and though thyself go limping away, yet shalt thou be a prince with God, and be delivered from Esau's bondage. Yea, what if Satan, what if legions of principahties and powers, have long held possession in some strong fort of thy heart, begin to plead prescription, scorning, as the Jebusites, to be ejected out of their impregnable tower ? Hast thou faith, and canst thou believe ? Persist in resisting, and he shall fly, and thou shalt see him fall like lightning before thee. Christ raised from the dead t That is, 'bowing or cringing.'— Ed.

not only the daughter of Jairus, which was yet within hed, not laid forth; nor the son of the widow, newly carrying out of the gate to burial; but Lazarus, that had four days lain in the grave; to that end, saith Augustine, that such as have long been dead in sin, yea, such as upon whom Satan hath rolled the stone of custom, and such as stink in the nostrils of the world through putrefied sores of sins, should not yet despair, but know that (which falls out in frequent experience), faith can cure diseases past all other cures and hopes. Through faith thou shalt roll away the stone from the cave of Machpelah,* and take out the five kings that have domineered and tyrannised over thee, set thy feet in the necks of them, and triumph over them.

CHAPTER XL

How Faith Vivifies.

And what is there yet farther thou wouldst have faith do for thee ? Oh, sayest thou, it is not enough to be healed of the disease, unless thou mayest take up thy bed and walk, yea, and leap and skip as the lame restored to his limbs. Oh, that I could find that life of grace which I see in some that can make it meat and drink to do the will of God!

Though I be not pestered and mastered with any reigning corruption, yet I find myself so dull and untoward, that I take no pleasure in my hfe. Know also that this quickening power, faith, only can help thee withal. To pray, to meditate, to have thy conversation in heaven, to keep a Sabbath cheerily, is as easy to thee as to iron to swim, and stones to ascend upward; but nothing is impossible to faith. It can naturalise these things unto thee, metamorphose thee, make thee a new creature, of a mole of the earth a fowl of heaven, of a snail a dromedary; such a change as the sun works in the vapour, when of an earthly, heavy substance it makes it light and airy, apt to ascend into the middle region. Such a change Cyprian saith he felt in his conversion. And how else came David to that high delight in God's service, that he loved the commandments of God more than thousands of gold and silver, the honey, and the honeycomb, that he rose at midnight to meditate in them. The selfsame duties may be done by the civil man and by the believer, for the outside and deed done. Both may go to church, hear a sermon, read a chapter; but the one goes as the bear to the stake, as a slave to the mill, and the dullard to school, in comparison of the other, who hath a difiierent internal principle, which is as a spring and oil to the wheels, that makes them go smoothly and currently, makes the yoke light and easy. ' They that trust in the Lord shall renew their strength, hft up the wing as the eagle, run and not be weary, walk and not faint,' Isa. xl. 31.

Faith it is that fetcheth sap from the root Christ, that makes every tree bring forth fruit in its kind, every Christian in his own calling. What else made David so worthy a soldier ? What taught his fingers to fight, so that a bow of steel was broken in his hand ? What made Paul an able minister of the gospel, gave him the door of utterance, made his tongue as the pen of a ready writer? He believed, therefore he spake. What made Onesimus, of a false eye-servant, tnisty to his master as to the Lord? The like might be said of all trades and sciences.

Look what a full treasury of all sorts of graces Christ hath stored up in * Evidently a misprint for ' Makkedah,' see Josh. x. 16,— Ed.

him. Faith draineth and deriveth them out of his fiihiess to the use of every several Christian, even ' grace for grace.'

Faith is the conduit cock that watereth all the herbs and flowers in the garden. All which the more I consider, the more I pity the preposterous care and unhappy travail of many well affected, who study the practice of this and that virtue, neglecting this cardinal and radical virtue, as if men should water all the branches of a tree, and not the root. Fain would they abound and shine in patience, meelmess, zeal, yet establish and root not themselves in faith, that should maintain all the rest; are ambitious to do good works, build hospitals, give alms, but study not to do the work of the Father. And what is the work of the Father but to beheve in the Sou whom he hath sealed and sent into the world to be rehed on for salvationj? which work is the gratefulest work that wo can perform, and which will make grateful all that we do besides, without which all that we can do will not please him. What cares he for thy thousand of rams, thy rivers of oil? Hath he not shewed thee, 0 man, that he that ti-usteth in his Son honoureth him most of all, in putting to his seal that he is true ? This honour, if thou wouldest do unto him, he would honom- thee with all other graces, and withhold no ornament, no good thing from thee, if it be fit for thee. Meek thou shalt be as Moses, patient as Job, zealous as David, thy soul and life embroidered with all kind of shining gi-aces, as the high priest's apparel with jewels. Wherefore, add this prescript to the former when thou art on the top of mount Tabor, solacing thy soul in thy Lord, and his favour through faith, feasting and banqueting with him as Esther with Ahasuerus. Bethink thyself what suit thou hast to him, what troublesome enemy thou wouldst be rid of. Suppose it to be some potent Haman of pride, make but thy complaint, and it shall be executed and crucified before thine eyes. Consider what grace thou standest in need of, and make thy petition as Achsah to Caleb, Judges i. 14, and he shall give thee the springs above and the springs beneath.

This prescript, if thou wilt daily observe, some days more largely and fervently, as the Spirit that blows how and where it hsts shall assist, and as occasion shall requhe, but every day more or less, though I will not promise thee thou shalt attain to perfection of degi'ees, such as the perfected spirits of the just enjoy in glor}', because here thou shalt ever believe but in part, and therefore be holy but in part, yet this I dare promise, as thou growest from faith to faith, so shalt thou grow from strength to strength in all other graces, till by degi'ees thou attain to the fulness and maturity of age in Christ, which shall make thee a saint in the earth, a light in this dark world, and make thee able to live in holiness and righteousness all the days of thy life, with much more comfort to thyself, and credit to the gospel, than strangers to this life of faith either do or imagine may be done.

CHAPTER Xn.

How Faith upholds Life in Affliction.

Say then, 0 Christian, is there anything yet behind that may impeach the complete happiness of a believer's life ? Speak now, if there be anything that^ hinders it, which faith cannot help ?

0 yes, says the flesh (which ever is cowardly and loves ease), though a man

be never so justified and sanctified, yet may he live in poverty, in crosses, yea, in great and manifold pressures; and what a life can there be in such extremities ? Oh, how doth faith here lift up the crest, shine and triumph above nature, reason, and all moral virtues in her incomparable valour ? Being in all these not as they, only a patient perforce, or a mere bearer, but more than conqueror, not only not daunted, but rejoicing to fall into manifold trials and tentations, knowing itself to be the adamant that nothing will break, the palm that sinks not under the weightiest of burdens, the oil that ever overswims the greatest quantity of water you can pour upon it, the sheet anchor that holds when all other tackling breaks. Here is the crown and garland of faith. Were it not for conflicts, what superexcellent use were there of faith ? Every cock-boat can swim in a river, every sculler sail in a calm, in daily and ordinary gusts every man of a patient temper or cheerly disposition can hold up the head; but when a black tempest comes, a tenth wave flows, and one deep calls another, natui'e yields, spirit faints, heart fails, then to stand erect, then to live and reign, that only can faith do, which hath the word for its compass, and Christ at the Lelm. The greatest adversities that are, are but the exercise, yea, the foil and lustre of faith. Man glories when he can tame tigers and lions, thinks himself a stately king v/hen he can make an elephant bow and stoop to him, when he leads a bear on the ring, or can handle a sei'pent without hurt; but what a small conquest is this to that of faith, when it makes shame, poverty, sickness, persecutions, banishment, yea, death itself, not only not dreadful and harmful, but tractable and serviceable. Questionless, great and sundry advantages hath a Christian, by virtue of his faith, above any naturian or politic, by all his reason; only, here is the defect of Christians, that they want skill, or else forget to hold up their shield when a dart comes suddenly upon them. Like him that was robbed by a thief with a stafi"only in his hand, baring himself a pistol at his back, ready charged, but surprised upon the sudden, altogether unmindful, or unable to use it. And if a man hath a target that is impenetrable, what is he the better if his heart or art fail him when he should defend himself by it ? This makes Christians, when they ail anything, with Saul to run to Endor, 1 Sam. xxviii. 7, with Asa to send out to the physicians, 2 Chron. xri. 12, as if faith could stand them in no stead. When, therefore, a storm rises, presently run and awaken thy sleeping faith, knock at faith's door. Ho! faith, help at a pinch, now do thy oflice! and faith Avill presently relieve thee with one of these special cordials.

First, Whereas sense and reason did but dimly and cloudily suggest to their followers certain broken and confused opinions, little better than dreams of destiny and proridence, faith will confidently and eridently assure thee of this ground of comfort, that the least tick befalls thee not, without the overruling eye and hand, not only of a wise God, but of a tender Father and fellow-feeling elder Brother, who, knowing thy mould, do more exactly measure out every cross unto thee than the carefulest apothecaries do their scruples and drams of dangerous physic.

Secondly, Out of this prmciple faith will extract these infallible conclusions ; tliis estate is not the axe of perdition, but the pruning-knife of affliction ; this cup is not a potion baneful, but medicinable, how bitter and wi'inging soever. Whatever befalls, being in Christ, it cannot bend to thy confusion, condemnation, or utter undoing, but an issue shall be given out of it. What terrible noise soever the storm shall make over thine head, it shall be but as hailstones upon the tiled or leaded house, that rattle more

than hurt. Thou art kept by the power of his might, the evil one shall not touch thee, thou art in safe harbour under the rock Christ, and mayest know in whom thou hast trusted, and art sure never to be confounded. If it be sickness or poverty, it is in thy Father's own hand. If the rod be in some malicious enemy's hand, if he turn thee over to a servant to scourge thee, and dress him in the devil's habit to scare thee, yea, though Satan himself buffet thee, yet he stands by, looks on, will moderate and number the stripes. The devils could not go one inch beyond commission in the swine. He knows thy strength is not the strength of whales or stones, and therefore will not permit them to lay on more than thou shalt well bear. His wisdom and grace shall be sufficient for thee. He that is in good tcnns with a prince fears not the approach of heralds or pursuivants, he that is out of debt fears not baihffs or sergeants, but imagines they come upon some good messages.

Afflictions are scarcbugs-'- to wicked men, as bushes to thieves ; but if thou be a believer, at peace with God in Chi'ist, they lay off their terrible vizard, and come with an amiable countenance. God thy Father hath given the whole host and army of afflictions more inviolable charge than David's, 'Do the young man, my sou Absalom, no harm;' do my anointed no harm.

Thirdly; Faith will further assure that he hath not only given them a prohibition, or negative commission, but an affirmative injunction to do thee all good that may be. He hath said unto them, purge, refine, try, exercise, breed the quiet fruit of righteousness, give him expei'icnce of his faith, make him bring forth more fruit; so that, though there be in thy physic some malign or poisonful ingi-edients, yet, being administered by him that knows thy temper and disease, and entirely affects thy health, it shall be so mingled with allays and correctors, that the confection shall be good, and altogether shall and must work for the best. When thou feelest thy bowels wi'ing, or (as in a sea-sickness) art dead sick for the present, remember thou shalt be the better many days after. And though, with Job and David, thy querulous flesh complain, and grunt and groan, jet when it is over a little, thou shalt be able to say, ' Oh, this was good for me !' I would not for anything but I had borne the yoke in my youth, that I may live the more comfortably in age. Considering that sick thou art, and that of many humours, thy Father should not love thee, if he should feed thee with sweetmeats, and mingle no aloes with them; much folly is bound up in thy back ;f and if thy indulgent Father should forbear the rod, he should hate, and not love thee.

Fourthly; Moreover, faith will remind thee of Christ's partnership in thy affliction, and of thy confonnity with him,' the firstborn, only begotten, and entirely beloved Son of God.' If he that was without sin, yet was not without stripes, wilt thou look to be a cockered Adouijah ? And what if the cross be heavj", and thou a weak child, yet Christ, a giant at one end, bears part of it, and makes it light and easy ? He is quick of feeling ; when Stephen is stoned, he saith, * Saul, why persecutest thou me ?' Besides, what more honourable badge and cognisance canst thou have of thy son-ship, than this resemblance of him, not as now glorified in the heavens, which thou must stay for till thou come there, but as in the way to glory, when he despised the shame, suffered the crown of thorns, the sceptre of reed, the spittings, buffetings, mocks and mows, and all reproaches of vile sinners, the piercing of the spear, and shewed himself to bo the Son of God, * That is, ' scarecrows.'— Ed. f Qu. ' heart ?'— Ed.

SB THE LIFE OF FAITH.

not by descending from tlie cross, but by enduring the cross ? ' And shaH I not (saith he) drink the cup which my Father hath tempered ?' And if thou wilt be his disciple, the first lesson in his school is, Christ's cross. Deny thyself; take it up and fellow him, and glory with the martyrs, Now am I hke my Lord and Master.

Lastly; Faith will set before thee, as before him, the infinite recompence of reward, not only renown in this world, which yet by faith the patience not only of Job, but of all martjTS have obtained, but that far most excellent hyperbolical weight of glory ; which Paul, eyeing, counted his afflictions (which to us would have been intolerable) light and momentary, not worthy the naming in comparison; which made him not only not weep and howl, but sing in the dungeon, and reckon it a special favour and honour to be counted not only a believer, but a sufferer for Christ. And God forbid that a believer should gloiy in anything so much as in the cross of Christ, in his wounds and scars for his Lord and Master. As that worthy Vincentinus said to the tyrant, ' Threaten these things to your corn-tiers and carpet knights ; racks, strappadoes, torments, are but a play to us ; we soldiers choose to be in Christ's garrison, rather than in the court; in the field and fore-front of the battle, than in the palaces of princes.' The more hazard and peril, the more glory and honom*. And what else desire we but to die daily, that the life in Christ may be manifested in us ? Yea, in the very instant of death, faith helps the behever to live, so as he may be said not to see death, and never to die (but that requires a just treatise by itself). Let all the complaints, grievances, wants, and miseries of the world be searched and guaged, the bottom will be found either to be want of faith, or of the use and practice of faith ; so that we may well say with Augustine, to any Christian sinking under his cross, or shrinldng at his enemy, ' Hast thou lost thy faith ?' and conclude with that worthy ensign-bearer of Christ,* ' Many are the troubles of the righteous, but by faith we stand, by feith we fight, by faith we overcome.'

CHAPTEE XIIL

An Epistle to the Reader, j^ressinff tlie Use of Faith.

Now reader, for so I choose to call thee in a postscript, when thou hast read the book, rather than in a preface, when thou mayest there leave, as many do ; give me now leave to gi-apple with thee, and minister to thee an interrogatory or two.

How many dost thou know, within thy conscience, live this life of faith ? Many thou seest live by their lands, by their wits, by their shifts ; but how many by their faith ? For the want of this use of faith, do not many poor Christians think and say of it, as a poor labouring countryman said to his neighbour in serious private talk, that he never believed there was any such sum as a thousand poimds of money, but that only rich men gave it out so, in boasting, or policy, to excite others to labour. So saith the common protestant, out of doubt there is no such sweetness in the life of faith ; for we see not believers so cheerful and contented above other men. If artists

* Fox in 14. Apoc.

and tradesmen did no more daily and duly follow their work, than most Christians do practise their faith, would they not be stark bcf^'j^Mrs ? P>ut to ask thee a more profitable question. Leave judging of others, and answer me in good serious sooth, between God and thy soul, Hast, and dost thou thyself live by thy faith ? Let me a little put thee to it; prove and examine thyself, and take, for instance, this present week, or da}' past, wherein thou readest this little manual. How hast thou, and usually dost thou spend the day ? \Vliat thought didst thou awake withal ? Wliat was thy morning di'aught for thy soul next thy heart ? What hath cheered and made thee meny in private and in company ? Whether thy sports and meals, more than thy heavenly ejaculations ? Deal plainly, not with me and this book (which yet shall witness against thee, if thou refuse to practise it when thou hast read it), but with thyself. Hast thou, or hast thou not, challenged some time, more or less, half or quarter of an hour, at the least, for this exercise of thy faith ? Hast thou not troubled thyself about the many things, that this one only needful hath been forgotten, that which only should be called work and business ? Hast thou not melted the day, yea, it may be the week, or month past, and made thy soul wholly to fast and pine for want of these refreshings ? If so, as I justly fear it in most of my readers, how much moi"e in such as are usually no readers ? Why, then, let thy heart smite thee for thy folly ; smite thou thyself upon the thigh, and say, How have I lived, or rather not lived, but consumed precious days in time-eating vanities ? How comes it about, that the greatest part of my life is the least part wherein I have lived ?

Oh, then, recover and recollect thyself before thou go hence and be no more. Wilt thou die before thou hast lived, as boys slubber out books before they leam their lesson ? Oh, learn to live this life; it is never too late ; it is never, I am sure, too soon; it is no shame to leam it what age o» condition soever thou be of; be ftiou priuce, potentate, nobleman, or gentleman, though few such readers I look for: remembering well what Bradford tells the Earl of Bedford, and Augustine tells Romanian, whiles he was ia the mouths of all men, most honourable, most munificent, most fortunate, in the full of his prosperity, in the source of pleasm'cs, in the top of greatness, &c. Who durst lisp a word of a better life, of time happiness? or what boot was it for any man to make mention of any such matter ? Yet if any such God will persuade to make trial of this Ufe, thou which sayest, What is a gentleman but- his pleasm-e ? shalt then tell me, as Solomon of his youth, such gentry is but vanity, tnie pleasure there is none but in this life. \Vhat is a Christian but* his faith, and what is his life but* the use of his faith ? Beest thou a scholai", a prophet, or a sou of the prophets, what is thy work, what is thy scope, or what should it be in thyself and others, but this Ufe of faith ? What is Paul or ApoUos 1 Cor. iii., but such as by whom you have believed ? Wliatever you teach, before you have taught this, you were as good preach to the stools and stones of yom* churches. What are your auditors but dead bones, and skulls, till they believe, and till Christ be fonned in them ? Get fii-st an hold whereon you may fasten your engines to draw them to virtues and good works. You which do that in souls which Elisha did in bodies, raise them from their graves—interpreters one of a thousand get the tongue of the learned to declare their righteousness unto them, the righteousness I say of faith—shew yourselves skilful workmen, such as have been brought up not only in morals of the heathen, subtilties of schoolmen, sentences and * That is, ' without.'

VOL. ni. y

conceits of postillers, rosaries, destructories, anthologies, but in the wholesome word of faith, "which is the arm and power of God to the salvation of every believer. Above all, let it be our wisdom to live ourselves by that which we teach others to live by; we that have, or might, or should have more faith than common Chistians, is it not a shame if we live not more happily, and carefully than private Christians ? not by our livings, wherein the laity have gotten the start of us for the most part, but by our faith, wherein we have the advantage of them, or else shame be it to us.

Is it not a shame to see an owner of a thousand pounds a year live as meanly as a poor farmer ? a master and professor of an art, as a mean practitioner ? Yet this must I say even to the meanest tradesmen and poorest people, this hfe belongs not to such only that are book-learned, but is equally obvious and open (as the king's highway) to all sorts of travellers to heaven. Honourable lives, pompous lives, voluptuous lives, poor folks have small hope to attain unto ; but a true happy life they may and do live, as well as the learnedst clerks and greatest princes, if they get the gift to practise that which such for the most part do but study and talk of. To conclude, whatever thou art, or whoever, that desirest to mend thy condition, to better thine estate, to multiply thy life, to change thy few and evil days of thy pilgrimage, into good and many, behold, here is the art of living well and living long. Life is not to be numbered by its hours, but measured by cheerfulness, as moneys not by tale but value. A little piece of gold contains a great many pieces of silver. Manhood consists not in the bulk of bones, but in the mettle and spirits. Is not one week of an healthy man, better than a year of a crazy; one sunshine hour, than a gloomy day ? I have often mused how a man might come nearest to that life which Adam lost, and recompense in this latter age of the world (wherein the lives of men are so contracted) the longevity of those that lived before the flood. And this is the best help I find : to hve well is to live twice. A good man doubles and amplifies his days; one may speak as much in few words as another in many. Persius wrote more in a few leaves than Marsus in large volumes. One day led by the rules of faith, is better than an immortality of vanity. A man may live to as good content to himself and others in a short space, as others in a long life ; some are old in years tediously drawn out, others in hom's cheerfully spent; some have been long, and others have lived long : and they only are such as have lived this life, of whom I conclude, as doth the story of the Kings, and Jeremiah's prophecy touching Zedekiah* upon his advancement by the king of Babel, his portion was a continual portion, a kingly portion, every day a certain all the days of his hfe; such I say it is, or might be, if Christians might be persuaded not to content themselves to profess or think they have faith, but to hve by their faith; only before I part with thee, take from me one caveat, one advice, one request, and so an end.

First, Take heed thou mistakest me not in all this, as if I had spoken of an absolute perfection in this life, equal to vision and finiition in the life to come, confounded heaven with earth, as if I thought myself, or any other to have comprehended. If any man thinks he believes anything, he beheves nothing yet as he ought to believe, but aU things in part, and imperfectly. We cannot by all our assiduousness in reading, prayer, and meditation have God's Spirit at an absolute command, no more than mariners the wind, or husbandmen the showers ; so as the most observant believer hath his turbida intervalla, his bufi'etings, lest he be too much exalted, his deser-* Qu. ' Jehoiachim?'—See 2 Kings xxv. 27 ; Jer. Hi. 81.

tions, -whoroin his belovod will bide himself behind the grates, not to be found of him for a while, that he seek him more eagerly, and prize his presence more thankfully, more heedfully keep him when he hath him, and be wholly dependent on his grace; yet so, as this remains most sure and certain, that the constant and daily practiser of his faith shall constantly and congruously be seconded with the gusts and gales of his Spirit, the only true Zcphi/nis and Faronim; shall have Sataii tied up from long and frequent molesting him ; shall not have such tedious absences of the Spirit, such uncertain fits and moods of his joy and comfort, as the negligent and loose believer, but a more stedfast frame and tenor of joy than any other kind of man in the world that takes not this course.

Provided that thou take this advice, that for the better and stronger use of this faith, thou seal up thy senses, and chain up thy reason. Walking by sight, and walking by faith, are opposite things; and, therefore, as men fortify the visual beams of one eye by closing the other, so must thou wink and close up the eye of thy soul to all worldly things, that thou mayest, by the prospective of faith, fix thy spiritual eye upon heavenly delights ; not that thou needest go out of this world, and sequester thyself like an eremite into dens and caves, retired fi'om all society, but even in the midst of all glittering objects, see them as if thou sawest them not; that is, without being deeply affected with them. So looked Paul from oif the things that are seen even in the midst of Rome, and looked upon things which were not seen; and Moses in Pharaoh's court saw him that was invisible.

A right behever goes through the world, as a man whose mind is in a deep study, or as one that hath special haste of some weighty business, goes through a street, that gazeth on nothing, hears nothing, minds nothing that is in the way, but only that which his head is taken up withal. Our conversation is in heaven, our treasiu-e is in heaven. 0 that all our thoughts were there, so as no earthly object might detain or distract them, no more than needs must be in our calling, so that the main bent and intention of all that is within us might be set upon the daily nourishing of our faith!

For which purpose, I make this parting and farewell suit unto thee, as thou meanest to receive any good by this book. That thou wouldst, even from this very hour wherein thou endest the reading of it, determine and covenant betwaxt God and thy soul, never whilst thou livest on the face of the earth to omit one day (God enabling thee by his Spirit) wherein thou wilt not vindicate and redeem, at the least, one half or quarter of an hour, either twice or once in the day, at the least; wherein all other affairs laid aside, thou mayest withdraw thyseff apart-from- all company and occasions, with a non obstante, to practise the exercise formerly prescribed. That is, by prayer, reading, and meditation, to put some strength and life into thy faith, till thou hast cheered, and revived, and warmed thy soul therewithal. This, if thou shalt inviolably observe, the strength, the feeling, the comfort, and the fruits of thy faith wiU, by little and little insensibly, and in a httle while most sensibly, thrive and grow, till thou comest to ihe ripeness of age in Christ.

What hurt can it be to thee if thou shouldst bind thyself by vow hereunto, or, if thou fearest thy strength, yet by full purpose thus to do all and every day of thy hfe ? that so in these lees and dregs of time, whilst fleshly protestants are raising contentions about matters of faith, or making sects and schisms in the church about needless trifles, thou mayest edify thyself in thy most holy faith; and whilst thou livest in the dark womb of this world, hve by the navel of faith, till thou comest to have thy mouth satiate

with fiilness of all good things at the right hand of God. When, as Ehza-beth Folk said, ' faith shall cease to be faith, and be turned into fruition, and we receive the end of our faith, the salvation of our souls.'

These things I have written, that your joy may be full. ' The just shall Uve by his faith.' ' According to thy faith, so be it to thee.' ' Lord, increase our faith.'

THE LIFE OF FAITH IN DEATH.

EXEMPLIFIED IN THE LIVING SPEECHES OF DYING CHEISTIANS.

TO mS DEAR AND LOVING

MOTHER.

I HONOUR Augustine much for honouring his mother so much after her death, whose name and example had otherwise lain in obscurity. But I like better, and wish rather, to follow the piety of Nazianzen, who gave himself to the perfoiinance of all Christian offices to his hving mother. God hath so blessed the former part of your life above the lot of most v.'omen, with two such able guides, as have so stored you with spiritual and temporal furniture, that you need not the aid of any your children. Nevertheless, grace and nature will be ascending and expressing themselves, though in weak services. Reuben, when he foimd but a few flowers, must bring them to his mother Leah. Esau, when he takes venison, gratifies his aged father withal. Samson finds honey by the way, and presents of it to his parents. Here is a posy gathered out of old and new gardens ; this savoury meat hath God brought to hand, here is sweet out of the sti'ong. Let your soul eat and bless. The use and fitiit of them I wish to every believer, especially in age and sickness, but the handsel and honour of them (if any be) to yourself, whom the law of God and nature binds me to honour above others. Long may you live to bless your children with your daily prayers, especially your sons in that work which needs much watering. Yet every good Christian in years cannot but desire to be forewarned against death approaching; and that is the aim of these endeavours. God prosper and bless them, as the former ; and send me my part in the benefit of these (as he hath done of them) in the time of use.

Yom* Son in all duty, desirous of the

birthright of your love and blessing,

SAMUEL WARD.

THE LIFE OF FAITH IN DEATH.

That which hath been abeady spoken of the hfe of faith, is to the natural man above all faith. And yet, if that be all it can do, then is all little better than nothing. Say it could fill the mind of man with all content, satiate his life with all delight, and sweeten the bitterness of aU afilictions ; yet if, for all this, there lui-k in hi's breast a secret and slavish fear of death, the least piece of this leaven, but in a comer of the peck, is enough to sour the whole lump of his joys ; the least dram of this coloquintida will mar the relish of all his sweets, and make him cry out, ' There is death in the pot.' And, 0 death! how bitter is thy mention and memory ?

Ask nature, and call to philosophy, and see if they can afford any aid ? Must they not confess themselves here quite posed and plunged ? Hath not death set and toiled their whole army ? For poverty, shame, and sickness, and other such petty crosses, some poor cures and lame shifts have they found out; but, when death comes, all their courage hath failed, and all their rules have left them in dark and desperate uncertainties. It is possible for Pharaoh, with much ado, to stand out the storms of haU, the swarm of flies and lice ; but, when once the cry of death is in the houses, then is there no way but yielding ; his enchanters and mountebanks could abide the cry of frogs and other such vermin, but this basilisk affrights them. Only faith takes it by the tail, handles it, and turns it into a harmless wand; yea, into a rod budding with glory and immortality.

Quartan agues are not so much the shame of physic, as death is of all natural skill and valour. Death is faith's evil.* Faith only professeth this cure, uudertaketh and performeth it with the least touch of Christ's hand; and that as familiarly as the richest balm doth the least cut of the finger. Faith turneth fears into hopes, sighings and groanings into wishings and longings, shaking and trembling into leaping and clapping of hands.

Alas ! all troubles are but as pigmies to this giant, who defies all the host of infidels, holds them in bondage all the days of then- lives, and makes their whole life no better than a living death and dying life. Only faith encounters this giant, singles him out for her chief prize, and grapples with him not as a match, but as with a vanquished underling; insulting over him as much as he doth over the sons of unbelief; sets her foot upon the

* After the analogy of scrofula being called the king's evil, because the king was supposed to be able to cure it by a touch.—Eu.

neck of this king of fears, and so easily becomes conqneror and emperor of all petty fears, which are therefore only fearful, because they tend to death; tlie last, the worst, the end, and sum of all feared evils. Here, and here only, is the incompai-able crown of faith ; here only doth she evidently and eminently honour her followers, and difference them from all others with a noble livery of true magnanimity and alacrity. It is true, if we had windows into the breasts of men, a difference one might see in the inward bearing of adversity; but, for the face and outside, both may seem alike hardy, both may seem alike resolute. But, when it comes to the point of death, then the speech, the behaviour, the countenance, palpably distinguish the dull patience perforce of the worldling, from the cheerful welcome of the Christian. Let death put on her mildest vizards, come in the habit of the greatest* sickness to the stoutest champion on his own do\vn-bed ; yet shall his heart tremble and his countenance wax pale. Let her dress herself hke the crudest fiiry, come with all her racks, fires, strappadoes, wild beasts, all her exquisite tortures. Faith will set a woman or a child to make sport with her, to dare and to tire her, and her tormentors.

Alas ! what do they tell us of their Socrates, their Cato, their Seneca, and a few such thin examples which a breath will rehearse, and a few lines contain their poor ragged handful, to our legions, whose names or number one may as soon reckon as the sand of the sea-shore : theirs a few choice men of heroical spirits trained up either in arts or arms ; ours of the weakest sexes and sorts, only strong in the faith; theirs, either out of windy vainglory, childishly reckoning of a short death and a long fame, or out of a blockish ignorance venturing upon death, as children and madmen upon dangers without fear or wit; ours out of mature deliberation and finn belief in Christ, who hath di'unk out of death's bitter cup an eternal health to all mankind, taken the gall and poison out of it, and made it a v.-holesome potion of immortality. Faith here proclaims her challenge, and bids nature or art out of all their soldiers and scholars produce any one who, having option to live or die, and that upon equal terms, have embraced death. Whereas infinite of hers have been offered Ufe with promotions, and yet would not be delivered, expecting a better resun'ection.

If any shall challenge these for thrasonical flourishes, or carpet vaunts, I appeal and call to witness not the cloud now, but the whole sky of wtnesses, such I mean as have died either in the Lord, or for the Lord, who in the veiy point and article of death have lived, and expressed hvely testimonies of this their life, partly in their incredible sufferings, partly in their admirable sayings. For their ' acts and monuments,' if they had all been penned, all the world would not have contained their histories, the sums would swell to large volumes. The valour of the patients, the savageness of the persecutors, striving together, till both exceeding nature and behef, bred wonder and astonishment to beholders and readers. Christians have shewed as glorious power in the faith of martyrdom, as in the faith of miracles. As for their last speeches and apophthegms, pity it is no better mark hath been taken, and memory preserved of them. The choice and the prime I have culled out of ancient stories, and latter martyrologies, English, Dutch, and French. The profit and pleasure hath paid me for the labour of collecting, and the like gain, I hope, shall quit the cost of thy reading. Sweetly and briefly they comprise and couch in them the foundation, the maiTow of large and manifold precepts, presci'ibed by the learned divines for preparation against death.f The art of dying well is easier ♦ Qu. 'Gtjutlest?'— Ed. t Beza, Perkins, Hall, Byfield.

learned by examples than by directions. These chalk the way more plainly, these encourage more heartily, these persuade more powerfully, these chide unbelief with more authority : if some work not, others may, some will affect some, some another. Bead them over to a sick or to a dying Chiistian ; if they quicken not, if they comfort not, it is because there is no life of faith in them ; if there be the least spark, these will kindle it, cherish and maintain it in the door, in the valley, in the thought, in the act of death.

THE LIVING SPEECHES OF DYING CHRISTIANS.

Part I.

Old Simeon's swan-song: ' Lord, let thy servant depart in peace,' &c. The good thief, the first confessor: ' Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kindom.'

Stephen, the first martyr: ' Lord Jesus, receive my spirit; forgive them,' &c.

Peter, the apostle : ' None but Christ, nothing but Christ.' Andrew the apostle : ' Welcome, 0 Christ! longed and looked for. I am the scholar of him that did hang on thee, long have coveted to embrace thee, in whom I am that I am.'

Polycarpus to the pro-consul, urging him to deny Christ: ' I have sensed him eighty-six years, and he hath not once hurt me; and shall I now deny him ?'

When he should have been tied to the stake, he required to stand untied, saying : ' Let me alone, I pray you ; for he that gave me strength to come to this fire, will also give me patience to abide in the same without your tying.'

Ignatius : ' I am the wheat or grain to be ground with the teeth of beasts, that I may be pure bread for my Master's tooth. Let fii-e, racks, pulleys, yea, and all the tonnents of hell come on me, so I may win Chi'ist.' Lucius to Urbicius, a corrupt judge threatening death : ' I thank you with all my heart, that free me and release me from wicked governors, and send me to my good God and loving Father,' &c.

Pothnius, bishop of Lyons, to the president, asking him in the midst of torments, what that Christ was, answered : ' If thou wert worthy, thou shouldst know.'

Cyprian: ' God Almighty be blessed for this gaol dehvery.' Ambrose to his friends about him: ' I have not so lived, that I am ashamed to hve any longer; nor yet fear I death, because I have a good Lord.' And the same to Calligon, Valentinian's eunuch, threatening death: ' Well, do you that which becomes an eunuch, I will sufier that which becomes a bishop.'

Augustine : ' Boughs fall off trees, and stones out of buildings, and why should it seem strange that mortal men die ?'

Theodosius : ' I thank God more for that I have been a member of Chi'ist, than an emperor of the world.'

Hilarion : ' Soul, get thee out; thou hast seventy years served Christ, and art thou now loath to die, or afraid of death ?'

Yincentius : ' Kage, and do the worst that the spirit of malignity can set

thee on work to do. Thou shalt see God's Spirit strengthen the tormented more than the devil can do the tormentor.'

Jubentius and Maximinus : ' We are ready to lay off the last garment, the flesh.'

Attains answered to every^question, ' I am a Christian :' being fired in an iron chain. ' Behold, 0 you Romans I this is to eat man's flesh; which you falsely object to us Christians.'

Basil to Valens's viceroy, ofiering him respite : ' No ; I shall be the same to-morrow. I have nothing to lose but a few books ; and my body is now so crazy, that one blow will end my torment.'

Gorgius, to the tyrant ofl'ering him promotion: * Have you anything equal, or more worthy than the kingdom of heaven ?'

Babilas, dying in prison, willed his chains should be buried with him. ' Now,' saith he, * will God wipe away all tears, and now I shall walk with God in the land of the li\'ing.'

Barlaam, holding his hand in the flame over the altar, sung that of the psalmist: ' Thou teachest my hands to war, and my fingers to fight.'

Julitta: ' We women received not only flesh from men, but are bone of their bone, and therefore ought to be as strong and constant as men in Christ's cause.'

Amachus : ' Turn the other side also, lest raw flesh ofiend.' The hke Lawi-ence.

S3meones : ' Thus to die a Christian is to live, yea, the chief good, and best end of a man.'

Marcus of Arethuse, hung up in a basket, anointed with honey, and so exposed to the stinging of wasps and bees, to his persecutors that stood and beheld him: * How am I advanced, despising you that are below on earth !'

Pusices to Ananias, an old man trembling at martyrdom : ' Shut thine eyes but a while, and thou shalt see God's light.'

Bernard : ' Fence the heel void of merit with prayer, that the serpent may not find where to fasten his teeth.'

The Second Part.

Edward YI., king of England : ' Bring me into thy kingdom ; fi-ee this kingdom from Antichrist, and keep thine elect in it.'

Cranmcr, Archbishop, thrusting his hand into the fire : * Thou imworthy hand,' saith he, ' shalt first burn ; I will be revenged of thee for subscribing for lear of death to that damned scroll.'

Latimer, Bishop, to one that tempted him to recant, and would not tell him his name : ' Well,' saith he, ' Christ hath named thee in that saying, ' Get thee behind me, Satan.' And being urged to abjure, ' I will,' saith he, ' good people : I once said in a sennon, in King Edward's time, confidently, that Antichrist was for ever expelled England, but God hath shewed me it was but carnal confidence.'

To Bishop Ridley, going before him to the stake : ' Have after as fast as I can follow. AVe shall light such a candle by God's grace in England this day, as I trust shall never be put out again.

To whom Bishop Ridley : ' Be of good heart, brother, for God will either assuage the fuiy of the flame, or else strengthen us to abide it.'

Bishop Hooper, to one that tendered a pardon upon recantation: ' If

you love my soul, away with it; if you love my soul, away with it.' One of the commissioners praj^ed him to consider that hfe is sweet and death is bitter: ' True,' saith he, ' but the death to come is more bitter, and the Ufe to come is more sweet. 0 Lord Chiist, I am heU, thou art heaven, draw me to thee of thy mercy.'

John Rogers, to one that told him he would change his note at the fire: ' If I should trust in myself, I should so do, but I have determined to die, and God is able to enable me.'

Being awakened and bidden to make haste to execution : * Then (saith he) shall I not need to tie my points.'

John Philpot: * I will pay my vows in thee, 0 Smithfield,'

Thomas Bihiey : ' I know by sense and philosophy that fii-e is hot and burning painful, but by faith I know it shaU only waste the stubble of my body, and purge my spirit of its corruption.'

Glover to Augustine Brenner: ' He is come, he is come,' meaning the Comforter, God's Spirit.

John Bradford, embracing the reeds and faggots, said: ' Strait is the way, and narrow is the gate, and few that find it.' And speaking to his fellow-martyr: ' Be of good comfort, brother, for we shall have a merry supper with the Lord this night; if there be any way to heaven on horseback or in fiery chariots, this is it.'

Lawrence Sanders : ' I was in prison till I got into prison, and now (says he, kissing the stake), welcome the cross of Christ, welcome everlasting life. My Saviour began to me in a bitter cup, and shall I not pledge him?'

John Lambert: ' None but Christ, none but Christ.'

Baynam: ' Behold, you papists that look for miracles, I feel no more pain in the fire than if I were in a bed of down; it is as sweet to me as a bed of roses.'

Hugh Laverocke, comforting John-a-Price, his fellow-martyr, said unto him : ' Be of good comfort, my brother, for my Lord of London is our good physician, he will cui'e thee of all thy bhndness, and me of my lameness this day.'

William Hunter to his mother: ' For a momentary pain I shall have a crown of life, and may not you be glad of that ?' To whom she answered : ' I count myself happy that bare such a champion for Christ, and thee as well bestowed as any child that ever I bare.'

Adam Damlip, to his fellow-prisoners wondering at his cheerful supping and behaviour after the message of his execution : ' Why (quoth he) think youi ^ have been so long in the Marshalsea, and have not learned to die ?' And wkou they told him his quarters should be hanged up : ' Then (said he) shall 1l need take no thought for my bvuial.'

Priest's wife, to one offering her money : ' I am going to a country where money bears bo mastery.' When sentence was read : ' Now have I gotter^-that which many :>, day I have sought for.'

Kirby, to Master Wingfield pitying him : ' Be at my burning and you shah see and say, Tijn;;:*'e is a soldier of Christ. I know fire, water, and sword a^e in his hands, tSat will not suffer them to separate me from him.'

Doctor Taylor : ' I shali -^his day deceive the worms in Hadley churchyard ;' and hatching a leap oriN'O when he came within two miles of Hadley, * Now (saith ho) lack I but two eivles, and I am even at my Father's house.'

Walter Mill, uirged to recant at 'he stake : * I am no chaff', but corn; I will abide wind and flail by God'r grace.'

Bishop Farrar, to a knight's ^on bemoaning his death: ' If you see me

stir in the fire, trust not my doctrine.' And so he stood holding up his stumps till one Garvell struck him down with a staflf.

Rawlinga to the bishops : ' Rawliugs you left mc, Rawlings you find me, and so by God's grace I will die.'

John Ardeley : ' If every hair of my head were a man, it should suffer death in the faith I now stand in.' The like Agnes Stanley and William Sparrow.

Thomas Hawkes, being desired to give a sign whether the fire was tolerable to be borne, promised it to his fiiends ; and, after all expectation was past, he lift up his hands half burned, and being on a light fire, with great rejoicing striketh them three times together.

Lawi-ence Guest, to his wife meeting him with geven children on her hand : ' Be not a block to me in the way, now I am in a good course and near the mark.'

The Lady Jane Grey, requested by the lieutenant of the Tower to write her symbol in his book before her beheading, wTote this : ' Let the glassy condition of this hfe never deceive thee. There is a time to be bom, a time to die; but the day of death is better than the day of birth.'

Alice Driver, when the chain was about her neck: ' Here is a goodly neckerchief, God be blessed for it.'

John Noyes, kissing the stake: * Blessed be the time that ever I was born for this day.' To his fellow-martjTS : * We shall not lose our lives in this fire, but change them for a better, and for coals have pearls,* &c.

Julius Pelmer: ' To them that have the mind Unked to the body, as a thief's foot to a paii- of stocks, it is hard to die indeed ; but if one be able to separate soul and body, then by the help of God's Spirit it is no more mastery for such a one than for me to drink this cup.'

Elizabeth Folkes, embracing the stake: ' Fai'ewell all the world, farewell faith, farewell hope, and welcome love.'

Roger Bernard, being threatened whipping, stocking, burning, answered : ' I am no better than my Master Christ, and the Prophets which your fathers served after such sort, and I for his name's sake am content to suffer the like at your hands.' So immediately he was condemned, and carried to the fire.

Thomas Sampal, offered a pardon in the midst of the fire : ' Oh ! now I am thus far on my jom'ney, hinder me not to finish my race.'

Latimer, Bishop, when they were about to set fire to him and Bishop Ridley, with an amiable countenance, said these words: ' God is faithful, which doth not sufier us to be tempted above om- strength.'

Bishop Ridley, to Mrs Irish, the keeper's wife, and other friends at sapper : ' I pray you be at my wedding to-mon-ow ;' at which words they weeping, ' I perceive you are not so much my friends as I took you to be.'

Tankerfield, when he had put one leg into the fii-e : ' The flesh shrinks and says. Thou fool, wilt thou burn and needcst not ? The spirit says, Hell fire is sharper, and wUt thou adventure that ? The flesh says. Wilt thou leave thy friends ? The spirit answers, Christ and his saints' society is better. The flesh says. Wilt thou shorten thy life ? The spirit says, It is nothing to an eternal life.'

Joyce Lewis : ' When I behold the uglesome* face of death, I am afraid; but when I consider Christ's amiable countenance, I takehea^ again.'

* That is, " ugly."— Ed.

The Third Paet.

John Huss, to a countryman wlio threw a faggot at his head : * 0 holy simplicity, God send thee better light! You roast the goose now, but a swan shall come after me, and he shall escape your fire.' Huss, a goose in the Bohemian language, and Luther a swan.

Jerome of Prague : ' Make the fire in my sight; for if I had feared it, I had never come hither.' While it was making, he sung two psalms.

Anonimus, on his deathbed: ' Now, phlegm, do thy duty, and stop thou my vital artery. Now, death, do me that friendly office to rid me of pain, and hasten me to happiness.' To a friend of his that willed him to have his thoughts on heaven: *I am there already.'

Claudius Monerius being cavilled at by the friars for eating a breakfast before his execution: * This I do that the flesh may answer the readiness of the spirit.'

Michaela Caignoela, a noble matron, seeing her judges look out of the windows, said to her feUow-martyrs : * These stay to suffer the torment of their consciences, and are reserved to judgment; but we are going to glory and happiness.' And to certain poor women weeping and crying, ' 0 madam! we shall never now have more alms:' ' Yes; hold you,' saith she, ' yet once more ;' and plucked off her sUppers, and such other of her apparel as she could with modesty spare from the fire.

James Delos, to monks that called him proud heretic : ' Alas! here I get nothing but shame; I expect indeed preferment hereafter.'

Madam la Glee, to one Chavique, that upbraided her for denying the faith : ' Your cursed faith is not worthy the name of faith.' She put on her bracelets : ' For I go (said she) to my Spouse.'

Marlorat, to friends that called him deceiver: ' If I have seduced any, God hath seduced me, who cannot lie.'

Castilia Kupea: ' Though you throw my body down off this steep hill, yet wiU my soul mount upwards again. Your blasphemies more offend my mind, than your torments do my body.'

Christopher Marshall of Antwerp : ' I was from eternal a sheep destined to the slaughter, and now I go to the shambles : gold must be tried in the fire.'

Vidus Bressius: ' If God's Spirit saith true, I shall straight rest from my labours : my soul is even taking her wings to fly to her resting-place.'

The Duke of Wittemberg and Luneburg : ' Many have been mine errors and defects in government; Lord, pardon and cover all in Christ!'

Picus Merandula: ' If Christ's death and our own were ever in eye, how could we sin ? Death is welcome, not as an end of trouble, but of sin.'

Martin Luther: ' Thee, 0 Christ, have I taught, thee have I trusted, thee have I loved; into thy hands I commend my spirit.'

(Ecolampadius, to one asking if the Ught offended him not: ' I have light enough here,' laying his hand on his breast. And to the ministers about him : ' Let the Ught of your Uves shine as weU as your doctrine.'

Francisco Varlute : ' Paul and Peter were more honourable members of Christ than I, but I am a member; they had more store of grace than I, but I have my measure, and therefore sure of my glor}\'

Peter Berger : ' I see the heavens open to receive my spirit.' And beholding the multitude at the stake: * Great is the harvest; Lord, send labourers!'

Jolin Mallot, a soldier : ' Often have we hazarded our lives for the emperor Charles the Fifth, and shall we now shrink to die for the Iving of kings ? Let us follow our Captain.'

John FUlula, to his fellows : ' By these ladders we ascend the heavens. Now begin we to trample under feet sin, the world, the flesh, and the devil.'

Thomas Calberg, to the friars, wilhng him to repent at the last hour: ' I believe that I am one of those workmen in Christ's vinej^ard, and shall presently receive my penny.'

Robert Ogner's son, to his father and mother at the stake with him: * Behold millions of angels about us, and the heavens open to receive us.' To a fiiar that railed : * Thy cm'sings are blessings.' And to a nobleman, that ofl'ered him life and promotion : * Do you think me such a fool, that I would change eternal things for temporary ?' To the people : ' We sufier as Christians, not as thieves or murderers.'

Constantine, being carried with other martyrs in a dungcart to the place of execution : * Well (saith he), yet are we a precious odour, and sweet savour to God in Christ.'

Fran. Sanromanus, a Spaniard: ' Work your pleasures on my body, which you have in chains, your captive; but my soul is even already in heaven, through faith and hope; and upon that Caesar himself hath no power.'

Joan, the marshal's wife of France, to her husband at the stake with her : ' Be of good cheer, our wedding was but a shadow, an earnest and contract, of that solemn and blessed man-iage which the Lamb will now consummate.'

Anne Audebert of Orleans: * Blessed be God for this wedding girdle (meaning the chain). My first marriage was on the Lord's day ; and now my second, to my Spouse and Lord Christ, shall be on the same.'

John Bmger, to a Mar oflfering him a wooden cross at the stake : ' No (saith he) ; I have another true cross, imposed by Chi'ist on me, which now I will take up. I worship not the work of man's hands, but the Son of God. I am content with him for my only advocate.'

Martin Hj^erius: * Oh! what a diflerence there is betwixt this and eternal fire 1 who would shun this to leap into that ?'

Augustine of Hannovia, to a nobleman persuading him to have a care of his soul: ' So I wiU (saith he), for I presently will lay down my body to save my conscience whole.'

Faninus, an Italian, kissed the apparitor that brought him word of his execution. To one reminding him of his children: ' I have left them to an able and faithful Guardian.' To his fi-iends weeping: ' That is well done, that you weep for joy with me.' And to one objecting Christ's agony and sadness to his cheerfulness: 'Yea (saith he), Chiist was sad that I might be merry. He had my sins, and I have his merit and righteousness.' And to the friars ofl'ering him a wooden crucifix: ' Christ needs not the help of this piece to imprint him in my mind and heaii, where he hath his habitation.'

George Carpenter: ' All Bavaria is not so dear to me as my wife and children, yet for Christ's sake I %vill forsake them cheei-fully.'

Adam Wallace, a Scot, to a tempting friar: ' If an angel should say that which thou doest, I would not listen to him. Is the fire ready ? I am ready. Let no man be otl'ended, no disciple is greater than his master.' John Bui-gon, to his judges asking him if he would appeal to the high

court: ' Is it not enough that your hands are polluted with our blood, but you will make more guilty of it ?'

Frederick Anvill of Berne, to the friars that willed him to caU on the virgin Mary, three times repeated: ' Thine, 0 Lord, is the kingdom, thine is the power and glory, for ever and ever. Let's fight, let's fight! Avaunt, Satan, avaunt!'

Godfrey Varall of Piedmont: ' Hangman, do thine office ; my death will be fruitful to myself and others.'

Hallewine of Antwerp, and Harman of Amsterdam, to the margrave of Antwerp, offering mitigation of torments upon abjuration: * "We are resolved these momentary afliictions are not worthy that exceeding weight of gloiy that shaU be revealed.' Peter and Nicholas Thiesseu, brethren, used the like speech.

Annas Burgius, in the midst of his torments: Lord, forsake me not, lest I forsake thee !'

Peter Clarke, with the root of his tongue plucked out, pronounced audibly (to shew that none ever wanted a tongue to praise God): * Blessed be the name of God;' as of old Romanus the martyr, mentioned in Prudentius.

Godfrey de Hammele, to one that called him heretic: ' No heretic, but an unprofitable servant, yet willing to die for his Lord, and reckoning this death no death, but a life.'

Bucer : ' No man by talk shall withdraw my mind from Christ crucified, from heaven, and my speedy departure, upon which my soul is fixed.' When one advised him to arm himself against Satan's temptation : ' He hath nothing to do with me. God forbid, but now my soul should be sure of sweet consolation.'

Tremelius, a Christian Jew : ' Let Christ live, and Barabbas perish.'

Ferdinand, emperor : ' If mine ancestors and predecessors had not died, how should I have been emperor ? I must, that other may succeed me.'

Frederick the Thu-d, Elector Palatine, to his friends about him, wishing him recovery : ' I have lived enough to you, let me now hve to myself, and with my Lord Christ.'

Leonard Caesar: ' Oh Lord, do thou suffer with me ; Lord, support me and save me.' -"

Windelmuta, to one that tcid her she had not yet tasted how bitter death was : ' No (said she), neither ever shall I, for so much hath Christ paoAiised' to all that keep his word; neither will I forsake him for sweet Hfe, or bitter' death.'

Henry Yoes : ' If I had ten heads, they should all off for Christ. God forbid I should rejoice in anything save in his cross.'

The minister of Brisgo : ' This skin, which scarce cleaves to my bones, I must shortly have laid off by necessity; how much more willingly now, for my Sa\aour Christ.'

Adolphus Clarebachius : ' I believe there is not a merrier heart in the world at this instant, than mine is. Behold, you shall see me die by that faith I have lived in.'

Alexander Cane, when a fool's cap was put on his head : ' Can I have a greater honour done me, than to be served as my Lord Christ before Herod ? Lord, seeing my persecutors have no mercy, have thou mercy on me, and receive my soul.'

Almondus a Via: ' My body dies, my spirit lives. God's kingdom abides •ever. God hath now given me the accomplishment of aU my desii'es.'

Giles Tilman, urged to luiow what be believed of purgatory : ' Purgatory and bell I leave to you, but my hope is directly to go into paradise. Neither fear I this great pile of wood, whereof some might have been spared to wai-m the poor; but will pass through it purged for my Saviour.'

Peter Bruce: ' I thank God my broken leg suflered me not to fly this martyrdom.'

Marion, the vnk of Adrian, seeing the coffin hooped mth iron, wherein she was to be buried aUve : * Have you provided this pasty-crust to bake my flesh in ?'

Lewis Paschalis: ' It's a small matter to die once for Christ; if it might be, I could wish I might die a thousand deaths for him.'

John Buisson : ' I shall now have a double gaol-delivery; one out of my sinful flesh, another from the loathsome dungeon I have long lain in.'

Hugh Stallour to John Pike, his fellow-martyr: ' Yet a little while, and we shall see one another before the throne and face of God.'

Levuie de Blehere, to bis friends that offered to rescue him by tumult: ' Hmder not the magistrates' work, nor my happiness. Father, thou fore-sawest this sacrifice fr-om eternal: now accept of it, I pray thee.'

Christopher Fabrianus : * First bitter, then sweet; first battle, the victor}' when I am dead; every drop of my blood shall preach Christ, and set forth his praise.'

Francis Soet: * You deprive me of this life, and promote me to a better, which is, as if you should rob me of counters, and furnish me with gold.'

Guy de Bres : ' The ringing of my chain hath been sweet music in mine ears, my prison an excellent school, wherein God's Spirit hath been my teacher. All my former discourses were as a blind man's of colours in comparison of my present feeling. Oh, what a precious comforter is a good conscience.'

Dionysius Peloquine, to the inquisitor telHng him his life was now in his own hands: * Then (said he) it were in an ill keeping, Christ's school hath taught me to save it by losing it, and not, by the gain of a few days or years, to lose eternity.'

Lewis Marsake, knight, seeing his other brethren go with halters about their necks, which they offered not him because of his dignity : ' Why, I pray you (quoth he), deny me not the badge and ornament of so excellent an order. Is not my cause the same with theii's ?' Which obtaining, he marched valiantly to the stake with them.

Simon Luloeus, to one Silvester, his executioner: ' Never saw I a man in all my life whose coming was more welcome to me than thine.' So cheerful was his death, that Silvester, amazed at it, left his office, became a convert and a Christian himself, went to Geneva for further instruction in the gospel.

Kilian, a Dutch schoolmaster, to such as asked him if he loved not his wife and children: 'Yes (said he); if all the world were gold, and were mine to dispose of, I would give it to hve with them, though it were but in prison. Yet my soul and Christ are dearer to me than all.'

Giles Verdict: 'Out of my ashes shall rise innumerable Christians.' Which prophecy God so verified by the effect, that it grew a byword after his death that his ashes flew abroad all the country.

Antony Verdict, brother to the former, condemned to be eaten with beasts, to prevent the like proverb, said to his father: ' 0 father, how hath God enabled you to have two sons honoured with martyrdom !'

John Barbe%nll, to friars that called him ignorant ass: ' Well, admit I were so, yet shall my blood Msitness against such Balaams as you be.'

THE LIFE OF FAITH IN DEATH.

Francisce Colver, to his two sons, massacred together with himself: ' Sheep we are for the slaughter. This is no new thing. Let us follow milli ons of martyrs through temporal death to eternal hfe.'

By all these, which are but a handfal of Christ's camp royal, it sufficiently appears they had their faith fresh and lively in the face of this grand enemy, and, by virtue of their faith, their spirits, wits, and tongues untroubled, undismayed, insomuch that an ancient witnesses of the Christian bishops, that they did more ambitiously desire the gloiy of martyrdom than others did prelacies and preferments; and a late mortal enemy of theirs bade a vengeance on them, for he thought they took delight in burning. What, then, shall we gain by them ? I remember Mr Rough, a minister, coming from the burning of one Austo in Smithfield, beuig asked by Mr Farrar of HaUfax where he had been, made answer, There where I would not but have been for one of my eyes, and would you know where ? Forsooth, I have been to learn the way; which soon after he made good, by following him in the same place, in the same kind of death. Now, if one president made him so good a scholar, what dullards and non-proficients are we if such a cloud of examples work not in us a cheerful ability to expect and encounter the same adversary, so often foiled before our eyes? Yet, lest any should complain that examples without rules are but a dumb and lame help, I will annex unto them a pair of fimeral sermons, opening a couple of seals revealed to John in his second vision; the fii'st affording us simdry meditations of death and hell, the second of heaven, and the happiness of such as die in the Lord and rest under the altar.

The use of them I chiefly dedicate and commend to old sick persons, such, especially, as die of lingering diseases, affording them leisure to peruse such themes, though I forbid none; but to all I say, ' Come and see.'

'E-S,X'^^ "o" ''^°"« Come and see.

And beJwld a pale liorse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and hell

followed after him: and power was given unto them.' — Rev. VI. 7, 8.

' Come and see.' Were it some stately, some pleasing, yea, or but some vain sight, such as Mordecai riding on the king's horse in pomp with the royal fm-niture, or but a company of players riding through a market, a drum, a trumpet, or the least call would serve the turn, to draw us out to the sight; but these being serious, yea, to nature somewhat hideous and odious, voices like unto thunders are given to the beasts to call beholders. The crier in the wilderness is willed to cry this theme aloud in the deaf ears of men. A Boanerges, with all the vehemency and contention of his voice and affections, will be too little, unless God bore the ears, open the eyes, and persuade the hearts of men to come and see. Yet it is but our folly to be so shy of this sight, for though it be sad, yet is it of all the sights under the sun the most necessary, the most profitable. Though we turn away our faces and close our eyes, yet see it we must, and see it we shall, nevertheless, never the sooner, never the later. Nay, the truth is, see it we never shall, but with closed eyes. Thou tender, faint-hearted man or woman, thou art so loath to meet with a corpse or bier, to see a skull or anything that minds thee of death, shalt thou by this means pro-ti-act or escape thy death ? No; let me tell thee, prevision is the best pre-

vention, and premonition the best premunition. That which is commonly received of the basilisk, is here no conceited story, but a serious truth. He that sees it before he be seen of it, may avoid the deadly poison of it ; he that sees it before it conies, shall not see it when it comes. He that manageth a horse at an armed stake, tits him to rush into the main battle without fear. And wouldst thou, with Joseph of Ai'imathea, walk eveiy day a tm'n or two with death in thy garden, and well fore-acquaint thyself thcre-^vithal, thou shoulst have, if not Enoch's, yet eveiy true believer's privilege, not to see death, not to taste of death, viz., in that ugly form, distasteful manner, which other the sons of Adam do, who, because they will not seo the face of it, must see the sting of it. To die well and cheerfully, is too busy a work to be well done ex tempore. The foundation of death must be laid in life. He that means and desires to die well, must die daily; ho that would end his days well, must spend them well, the one will help the other. The thoughts of thy end, as the train of the fowl, and nidder of a ship, will guide thy life, and a good life will lead thee to a peaceable end, that thou shalt neither shame nor fear to die. In a word, Plato's philosophy in this, is true divinity, that the best mean and whole sum of a wise man's life, is the commentation of death, not every fleet and flitting flash, but frequent and fixed contemplations. Death is the knowncst and un-knownest thing in the world; that of which men have the most thoughts and fewest meditations. Be therefore persuaded to come and see ; that is, come that thou mayest see. Come from other objects, infinite and vain spectacles, with which the eye is never glutted. Draw near and close to this, that thou mayest see it throughly. Wipe ofi" the clay, spittle, and scales oft" thine eyes, that thou mayest clearly behold the nature, quality, and consequents of death. No mortal wight but hath some blushes of mortaUty, such as go and come ; but if they would suffer them to lodge in their minds, they must needs stu'some afiection, and leave some irnpref-sion to the memoiy, and produce some efi'ects in their Uvcs. Socrates had a gift that he could fasten his eyes many hom's on one object without change or weariness. Half so staid a thought of one's mortahty, might bring a man to immortality. It is not beauty seen, but looked on, that wounds. I met with a story of one that gave a young prodigal a ring with a death's head, with this condition, that he should one hour daily, for seven days together, look and think upon it; which bred a strange alteration in his life, like that of Thesposius in Plutarch, or that, more remarkable, of Waldus, the rich merchant in Lyons, who seeing one drop do^^Ti dead in the streets before him, went home, repented, changed his life, studied the Scriptures, and became a worthy preacher, father, and founder of the Chiistians called Waldenses, or poor men of Lyons. In conference and confessions many one hath acknowledged to myself the like ; some that by dangerous sickness of their own, others that by fear of infection in times of the plague, and general visitation, others by the death of friends, as by shafts that have fallen near them, have been awakened, afirighted, and occasioned to think deeply on their ends, to pro\dde against their ends, to attend the word, which hath proved the mean of their conversion and salvation. And this I think should be enough to persuade young and old, one and another, to come and see.

But what now are we come out to see ?

Behold, First, the seal opened.

Secondly, the horse issuing out.

Thirdly, the colour of the horse.

VOL. ui. Z

Fourthly, the rider and his followers, death and hell.

This horse is under seal. Seals we use commonly to confirm and conceal, to make things sure, and to keep things secret. And thus death, as all God's judgments, are said to be sealed. Job. iii. 3, and that with a finner seal than of the Medes and Persians ; in which sense, this horse, Zech. iv., issueth from between two brazen mountains ; that is, God's inevitable, unalterable decree. He rusheth not out, rangeth not abroad at the will of man or Satan, at hap or by blind destiny, but at the pleasure and by the appointment of the great Master of these God's horses, Jesus Christ (one of whose chief royalties is to keep the lock and key of death and hell. Rev. i.), else \youldhe be ever trampling under feet the sons of men. Look how naturally and continually the sea would overwhelm the whole earth, if the waves were not bounded by providence; so would this horse overcome the inhabitants of it, were he not tied short, and restrained by his and our Lord. You see him here limited to the fourth part of the earth, else had not one been left alive ; for all are sentenced, and have deserved to die, and it is favour that all die not. In a word, men die not by chance, course of nature, influence of stars, but then and therefore, because it is appointed. A million of Ethiopians perish in one day, in one battle, 2 Chi'on. siv., not because all were born under one aspect of planets, but because such a slaughter was sealed of God. And though there be one way in, and twenty out of the world, yet all falls out as God determines and disposeth. That Christian which believes this, though he may desire David's arithmetic to number his days aright, that is, to know the brevity of them, yet "s^dll he never study the black and senseless art of calculating his birth and death. None but fools are curious and inquisitive to know that, which is under God's privy signet. We are all as soldiers sent to sea with commission under seal, not to be opened till we come to such and such a point. To guess and conclude we shall die at such an age, in such a climacterical year, what is it but to make a leagTie with death ? not unlike to that fi-enzic merchant that would make and strike up matches of himdreds and thousands with parties absent, as if they were present. A fpnd, itching humour, and such as would, for the most part (whatever we think), do us hurt rather than good; if the day and hour were far off, it would breed secm'ity; if near hand, horror. Sicknesses are sufficient summonses and warnings. Mark such as, sentenced by judges and physicians, foreknow their death, yet without special grace foae-fit themselves never the more carefully. Some deaths, indeed (as some clocks), give warning before they strike, with symptoms and signs infallible; and so extraordinarity God gives to some Moseses and Hezekiahs a presage, and hearts to prepare ; but generally God hath seen this the best for us, that it should be for the general most certain, for the particular most uncertain, to him sealed, to us concealed; of which he would have us make these uses.

First, for our bodily health, not to be too careful, nor too careless. With all our physical diet and miserable anxiety, we cannot add one cubit to the length of our days, or measure of our health. We are all sealed up no otherwise than the measure of our wealth, or our crosses and blessings, for the having or avoiding of which, the means we must use without carking care, or cowardly fear, cheerfully relying on Christ, the Lord-keeper of the seal, not wittingly and desperately preventing that sealed date by surfeits, of toil or pleasure, by wilful neglect of diet, contempt of physic, by grief or by melancholy ; nay, not by haste to glory, -with Cleombrotus the heathen, or with hasty, self-murdering Christians, such as Augustine's times were

full off; but with Job, patiently abide all the days of our life, during the teiin of our sealed lease, till the veiy day and date expire, and appointed time of dismission and dissolution come. And,

Secomllij, for our soul's provision, not to do as most that have set days of truce and peace, and in which they hang up their aimour a-rusting, and their beacons unwatched ; but as people that live in perpetual hazard of war, have all things in a daily readiness for 8er\'ice at half an hour's warning, upon the least alarm ; who would not live one hour in infidelity or irrepentance, lest in that he be taken napping, as the foolish vii-gins, and that rich fool that reckoned of many years, .and had not one night to continue. Grant it were enough to repent and believe the last day of life, yet how can a man be sure to do that, unless he do it every day; considering that every day may, for aught he knows, be the last. The seal may be opened in a day and hour one least thinks of it, as it is to most that die.

Lastly; Whenever this horse comes to fetch away us, or any of ours, children, or friends, a behever stamps not, and rages not, as mad Marshal Biron; munnurs not, repines not, as the wild Irishmen without hope; expostulates not with destiny, as Alexander for his Hepha3stion; but with Aaron, lays his hand on his heart and mouth for his sons' sudden death, knoAnng what God hath sealed shall be and must be. If the dreams of a blind fatal necessity could quiet heathens, how much more should a Christian be cheerful at the disposal of a wise and loving keeper of the seal ? A minute sooner or later it shall not be than he hath foreseen and foresealed for thy especial good, who hath times, and seasons, and seals, in his ordination. Worthy was the speech and resolution of an understanding divine. If Chi-ist hath the key and seal of death, then a fig for death. This, though it be an ordinary notion, yet well digested, it is a singular stay to a believer.

The seal being thus opened, ' come and see' the creature that issues forth. Behold an horse, a fierce, a strong, a warlike, a speedy creature, so described by God himself. Job xxxix.

Look, therefore, how easily Jehu stamped Jezebel into pieces, and Tamerlane's troops of horse the Turkish footmen, or as the sturdy steed dashes out the httle whappet's brains, so easily doth death with the least kick and spurn of his heel the halest complexion, the stoutest constitution, triumphing like an emperor over all sorts of people, treading on the necks of kings and princes, as Joshua over them in the cave, insulting in tho tenns of Ilabshakeh, * Where is Hamath ? the kings of Ai-phad, Ivah, and Sepharvaim ?' Elam, Meshech, and Tubal, whose fear was upon the Uv^ng, are they not descended into the grave ? made then* beds in the slimy valley, and laid their swords under their heads. Where is Goliah with his brazen boots ? Hath wisdom delivered, strength rescued, or wealth ransomed any out of my fingers ? For all their confidence, have they not gone to the king of fear ? How can it be otherwise, seeing death comes as an armed horseman upon naked footmen ? No encountering, no resistance, no run-ing away, no evasion by flight. This winged Pegasus posts and speeds after men, easily gives them law, fetches them up again, gallops and swallows the ground he goes, sets out after ever}' man as soon as he comes into the world, and plays with him, as the cat with the mouse, as the greyhound with the badger ; sometimes he follows fair and afar off, lingers aloof and out of sight; anon he spurs after, and by and by is at the heels in some sickness, and then, it may be, gives us some breath again, but in the end overtakes us, and is upon us with a jerk, as the snare over the fish or tho fowl. Absalom could not outride him ; Pharaoh's chariot wheels fell off in

this chase. Jonathan and Saul, swift as the eagles, strong as the lion, yet how were they slain with the mighty ? What, then, is the course the Christian takes ? He neither foolishly thinks to resist or escape, nor yet cowardly swoons, or cravenly yields ; but as a valiant footman that espies an horseman pursue him in a champaign, stays not till he come upon him, but addresseth himself for the encounter. So does a Christian, in his best health and prospeiity, put on his armour, get him the helmet of salvation, the shield of faith, and learneth the use of them betimes, before he be unapt to it in siclmess or age. As the Parthians teach theii' very children to handle the bow, the Scythians the dart, the Germans the spear ; and so it comes to pass, that behevers are not surprised, as worldlings often are, with milk but in their breasts, without oil in theu' lamps, and aU in vain th'en fondly cry out to this horseman to stay his stroke. As the rich fool Gregory relates of, who entreated death to stay till the next morning. Truce but till to-morrow, and I will be ready for thee. A Christian wisely considereth that he hath no morrow, and therefore, while it is called to-day, is ready for this horse, who never sets any certain day of his coming.

Behold also the colour of this horse, ^Xu^og, the colour of the withering leaf, pale and wan, symbolizing and noting the effect he hath first upon the living, whom he appals, as he did Belshazzar, whom all his concubines and courtiers could not cheer, nor all his wine in the bowls of the temple fetch colour into his countenance. See we not often prisoners at the bar wane away, and dye as white as a cloth at the sentence of death pronounced on them. Many gulls and gallants we may hear sometimes slight off death with a 5est, when they think it out of hearing, and some wish it, and call for it, as Gaal for Abimelech; but when it comes in good earnest, they are not able to look it in the face with the blood in their cheeks. Some fooUshly set a face on the matter on their deathbeds, lest neighbours should censure when they are gone for cowards, hypocritically painting their faces, as Jezebel did, affronting Jehu out of the window, God knows with a cold heart, and if her paint had been off, a pale face should one have seen underneath it. Whereas Christians, having a good measui'e of faith to warm them at the heart, change not their countenance, nor have their colour any whit abated, but as is recorded of Mrs Joyce Lewis at the stake, and sundry other Christians, even of the fearfulest by nature and sex, looked as fresh and cheerfully at the hour of death as at their marriage.

A second effect of this pale horse is after death, bereaving the bodies of all blood and colour, making them lifeless and wan carcases, and so lays them a rotting and mouldering among the worms their sisters, till the fashion of them be utterly altered, the beauty consumed, and shape turned into rottenness. Oh, how grievous is this to such Absaloms, Jezebels, and Rosamonds, who have set much by their painted sheaths and pampered carcases, whose belly is their God, and yet their end must be corruption. Dust they were, and to dust they must retui-n. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vanity. When the pale horse comes there is no remedy. Here only faith hath an antidote, comforting herself with these sayings: This base and vile body of mine must be thus served, that it may be transfigured and made confonnable to the glorious standard, Christ's body, more glorious than the sun in his brightest hue. It must thus be sown in pale ignominy, that it may rise in glorious beauty. What if I lose a httle vermilion red, mixture of phlegm and sanguine, shall I not recover a radiant, resplendent lustre ? Can the alchemist, with his art, cause a dry, withered flower to shew itself again for a space in its natural verdant shape and colour ?

And cannot God, that made me first of clay, and that clay of nothing, reduce and refme the same after it hath been in the earth ? As the Chinese do the materials of their curious dishes for many scores of years, that when it is thoroughly defecate, their posterity may temper and frame some vessel of excellent service withal. Certainly my Redeemer liveth, and with these eyes I shall see him, as he is most admirable to behold, and myself hke unto him in my degree, ten thousand times more comely than is here possible to imagine, the most personable creature that ever the sun saw; when the body shall bo enriched with those excellent dowries of impassibi-hty, clarity, eubtilty, agihty.

Oh, but here is yet a more fearful spectacle behind than all that hath yet come in sight. Hell, even hell itself, in the worst sense, not the grave of the body, but of the soul. For John sees hero principally the judgment of the wicked that were slain for the contempt of the gospel by the pale horse, for not jaelding to the white and his crowned rider. And their woful state is here opposed to the happy condition of the martyrs under the altar.

Well, then, behold also, even hell, the page and follower of death, attending him wherever he goes among the wicked sort. Whence it is that they are so often coupled in this book, death and hell. Look as the foxes wait upon Hons, carrion crows upon armies, gaolers upon sergeants for a prey, so diligently does the devil on death for a booty. No fowler does more cunningly stalk behind the horse, or creep bchhid brakes or hedges, to get his aim at the shy fowls. No sergeant hides his mace, no angler his hook more warily, knowing that else hell should never swallow so many.

Alack, alack I we silly fish see one another caught and jerked out of the pond, but see not the fire and fiying-pan into which they come. In this consists the devil's chiefest policy and our grossest simplicity, and even this is the cause of our sottish and foolish living and d^ing.

0 that my head were a fountain of tears, to weep for and bewail the stupidity, yea, the desperate madness of infinite sorts of people that rush upon death, and chop into hell blindling. How brutish and beastly are the premises and conclusion of the epicure and his brood, ' Let us eat and drink, for to-moiTow we shall die.' Who knows whether the soul of the beast descend, and man's ascend ? Who ever saw the one go downward and the other upward, and then what matter if the hfe of the one difler not from the other ? What need a man care whether he be a sadducee's swine, an epicure's horse, or himself? The one many times hath less care and more pleasure than the other, if death be the last line, the full point, and final cessation of the creature. These brates thank pkUosophy that hath taught them not to fear any such hobgoblin spirits or old wives' tales as hell. But such philosophy Socrates, Plato, and the >viser sort even of the heathen have hissed out of schools as belluine. Yea, the most savage and unlettered people, the less soiled ^ith art, the more confidently do they, out of nature's instinct and divine impression, conclude of an eternal place of well and ill being after death for the souls of men. But these monsters wilfully shut their eyes, deface and obliterate these stamps and principles of nature, and so dance hoodwinked into perdition. Miserable it is to see how boldly and bUndly they think and venture on death. Thei'a-menes, he writes books in praise of death, as the end of all calamities. Augustus, he dies in a jest, calling for a plaitJite. Tiberius in dissimulation. Diogenes, hearing Antisthoncs cry out in his pains, "^Vho shall ease me ? ofiers him a knife to dispatch himself withal. Caninus, called to eie-

cution, bids his fellow remember he had the best of the game. The Earl of Kildare, seeing his writ of death brought in, when he was at shuffle-board, throws his cast, with this in his mouth, ' Whatsoever that is, this is for a huddle.' Little list would these blind bayards have for such idle mirth, if their eyes were opened to see this follower of death. How pitiful is the frenzy of those brave spirits, as they deem and term themselves (as much as they scorn pity), our duelists I mean, who, as if they never had heard of hell, are as prodigal of their lives as cocks or dogs are oi theirs, pouring them out upon every drunken quarrel. I pity not the loss or miss of such, good for little but to set in the front of a battle, or to stop breaches and cannons withal; but I pity the loss of their souls, who serve themselves, as the Jesuit in Lancashire, followed by one that foimd his glove, with a desire to restore it to him, but pursued inwardly with a guilty conscience, leaps over a hedge, plunges into a marlpit behind it, unseen and unthought of, wherein he was drowned. I marvel not that they fear not a rapier or pistol. Who would not choose it before a lingering and painful sickness, were it not for the after-claps of death ? No coward need fear the encounter of it alone in a single combat. But death hath a second, a page ten times more dreadful than himself, with whom we have to begin, when we have done with death, which is but the beginning of sorrows. Death is pale, but his follower is a black fellow, a terrible monster, never enough feared. In which respect how lamentable also is the blindness of all self-mm-derers, who make death the remedy of every grief, and cure of every violent passion. If they find themselves inwardly vexed, or perplexed in conscience, they seek death as a present ease, not considering how they leap out of the smoke into the flame, out of the flame into the fire, out of a curable momentary disturbance into an endless irrecoverable woe (without the extraordinary mercy of God), to which usually the devil speeds them, that he might get them into his clutches, and so pass out of doubt all means of prevention and evasion by faith and repentance.

Oh, senseless Ahithophel! how did thy wisdom fail and befool thee, when thou settest thine house in order, and disposest of thy goods, forgettest thy soul, hangest thyself; which durst thou, or wouldst thou have done, had but one believing thought of an eternal fire come into thy head ? How blockish is the manner of dying of many a Nabal, who, strucken with the fear of death and hell, become as insensate as stocks and stones, have no mind nor power to think of one thing or other, cannot abide to hear any mention of the danger of that which they fear, whose senses the devil bewitches and benumbs, lest they should see and avoid ? Such was Louis XI., who straitly charged his servants, that, when they saw him sick, they should never once dare to name that bitter word death in his ears. So do cowards and cravens shut their eyes, and choose rather to feel blows than to see and shun them.

Little better is the common course that most people take. Scared some are with a confused and preposterous fear of death, and flashes of hell in their consciences, and j^et take no course to get pardon and faith in Christ; but, either taking it to be some melancholy humour, send for merry companions to drive it away; or being given up to hardness of heart and im-penitency, wilfully shake ofi" all thoughts of repentance, shut" their eyes and ears against all good advice, and desperately put all at adventures, and chop into the jaws of that roaring lion. Some of them ridiculously fearing death, they know not why, more for the pangs of it (which often are less than the

tootliaclie) tlian for the hell following; like fools that fear the thunder crack, and not the holt; the report of the piece, and not the hullet; the sergeant's arrest, and not the gaoler's imprisonment; lahour to escape death which they cannot, and hell which they might. Others of them, scared with some terrible apparitions, afl'righted (as Cardinal Crescentius, a little before his death, with a black dog in his chamber), a presage and preludium of hell approaching, they cry out they are damned, the devil, the de\al, do they not see him ? Sec. And so Spira-like, desperately and disconsolately depart in hellish horror. Other of them, a little wiser, and yet little the better for it, admit a cold thought or two, and it may be a little parley about the matter; but, when they have fetched a sigh or two, put all upon a ' Lord, have mercy on them,' trust it shall go as well with them as with others, even as God will have it, and think they do much if they send to a minister to pray with them or for them; never giNing all diligence to make their salvation sure, and to escape so groat a condemnation.

Oh ! if we could consider how fearfully such find themselves deluded, when their souls awake worse than Jonas in the tempest, even in a gulf of fire and brimstone ; how would it awaken and arouse us to foresee death and hell in their shapes, and to fore-appoint om-selvos thoroughly, not against the first death, which we cannot, but against the second we may, if we get our part in the fii'st resurrection.

This text, methinks, speaks to every sick man bound on his bed with the cords of death, as Delilah to Samson. Up and arise, for the Philistines are at hand. Death is at the door and behind the door ; the fiends wait to fetch away thy soul. Bellarmine is of opinion that one glimpse of hell were enough to make a man not only turn Chi-istian and sober, but anchorite and monk, to live after the strictest rule that can be. I am of belief that God's Spirit co-operating a thorough meditation of it, might be a mean to keep one from it. For a man to wish to have a sight of it, or that one might come thence and make report of the intolerable and unutterable pains of it, is superfluous, superstitious ; and if it should be granted, yet being not God's ordinance and allowance, it might go without his blessing and do one no good. Thy best course is well to ponder what we that are God's ministers report of it, out of Moses', the prophets', Christ's, and the apostles' descriptions. And if God mean thee any good, our warning may do thee some good. Popish writers are too bold in maldng maps of heaven and hell, as if they had surveyed them and their regions and inhabitants ; but most, I think, ai"e on the other hand too brief and summary in their meditations and writings. To paint it in its own native colours is impossible, or by any contemplation to comprehend the horror of it. Shadows and parables the Scripture useth, by which thou mayest and oughtest to help thy conjectures, and to work on thy affections withal, after this or the like manner.

Here God hath allowed thee on his earth a pleasant habitation, commo-diously situate in a good air, richly decked with fm-niture, compassed wnth delightful gardens, orchards, and fields, where thou hast liberty to walk and ride at thy pleasure ; how would it trouble thee to think of being laid up all thy life in some strait and loathsome prison ? By this consideration how ill thou wilt brook to be cast into a doleful, disconsolate dungeon, to lie in utter darkness, blackness of darkness, in eternal chains, in little case for ever.

Here a great part of thy contentment is to live among good neighbours, with a lo\'ing wife, with cheerful companions; and loath thou art at any time to be long in the house of mourning, to be among melancholy, mal-con-tented, complaining, feeble, or brawhng pwplc, in hospitals, or bridewells,

or bedlams. How will then thine ears endure to be tired with continual howling, screeching, and gnashing of teeth, to live among dogs, enchanters, unclean birds, reprobate spirits, worse than so many toads, tigers, or serpents?

Here, if thy Father should, in displeasure, bid get thee out of sight, or thy prince banish thee his court and presence, as David did Absalom, for some offence, thou wouldst take it heavily; how shall thine ears tingle to hear God say, ' Depart out of my presence; go, thou cursed, into the lake-prepared for the devil and his angels ?'

Here thou shrinkest to think of the gout, cohc, stone, or strangurian, shiverest to hear of the strappado, the rack, or the lawn; how then wilt thou bear universal tortures in all the parts of thy body, exquisite anguish and pains, such as of which the pangs of childbirth, bm-nings of material fire and brimstone, gnawings of chest-worms, drinks of gall and wormwood, are but shadows ; and to which they are all but sports and flea-bitings, even to the tonnents thy body shall suffer for its sins against the Creator.

But hast thou ever, here in this world, tasted of a troubled spirit, of the grief and fears of a wounded conscience, possessed with bitter things; strucken and pierced with the venom of God's arrows, fears of the Almighty? By these thou mayest make the best guess how it will fare with thy soul when God shall pour all the vials of his wrath into a vessel of his fury, and vex thy soul in his sore displeasure, scom'ge thee with the rods of scorpions, make thee drunk with the gall of asps and cockatrices, make thy mind heavy unto the death, holding it ever in those agonies which made his own Son sweat clots of water and blood. Oh, how fearful a thing it is to fall into the hands of God, who is a consuming fire ! Think of it whiles there is hope, you that forget God, heaven, and hell, lest you come there where there is no redemption, no hope of ease or end, which is that that makes hell, hell indeed. For if these pains might have an end, were it after million and millions of years, as many as there be sands in the sea-shore, yet mightst thou nourish some miserable comfort of a release in the long run ; but this night hath no day, this ague no intermission, this death no death to end it withal.

Here thou wouldst be loath to lie on the rack from morning to night, to be wi'ung with the colic for a few days or hours, to be haimted with a quartan from Michael to Easter. Oh ! then, add eternity to insupportable torments, and let thine ears tingle, and thine heart melt, to think of it-Were it not for hope in small pressures, we say heart would bm'st. Oh B then, this word ever and ever, if thou couldst duly believe and consider it, how would it break that hard heart of thine, which knows not how to repent, nor cares to prevent, the wrath to come.

What thinkest thou ? Are these things tales and fables ? Is hell but a name and word, a scarebug for to keep fools in awe ? Hath not God, thinkest thou, a day of reckoning, a prison and power to punish rebels and traitors ? or are not his punishments like to his justice, infinite and eternal ? Know these things to be as true as God is truth, save that they are short of the truth itself. Why dost thou not, then, take thy soul apart, and ruminate of these things by thyself, judging thyself here, that thou mayest not be condemned in the world to come ? Ai't thou afi-aid of a melancholy fit ? and fearest thou not this gulf, and whirlpool, and sorrow ? Art thou loath to be tormented before thy time, and fearest not to be tormented time without end ? I wonder how the souls of wicked men and unbelievers go not out of their bodies, as the devils out of demonincs, rending, raging, tearing, and foaming. I wonder how any can die in their wits.

that die not in the faith of our Lord Christ. Verily, if llioso things move thee not, thou art in a worse plight than Felix and Belsha/zar ; yoa, the very devils themselves, who believe them, yea, quake and tremble to think of them. How fain would I snatch thy soul out of this lire ! Undoubtedly know, that if this warning do thee no good, it is because thou art of old justly ordained to perish in thy impenitency, and to be a fire-brand in these everlasting flames. Now, on the contraiy, if thou beest a vessel of mercy and honour, it will do thee no hurt, but drive thee to Christ, in whom there is no condemnation, who only is perfectly able to save and deliver thee out of this lake. If thou beest already in him, it will cause thee to rejoice in thy Lord and Saviour, who hath delivered thee from the fear of two such enemies, that now thou mayest, with the ostrich in Job, despise the horse and his rider, and triumph by faith over hell and death : * 0 death, where is thy sting ? 0 hell, where is thy victory ? ' Death is to men as he that comos attended : to Dives he comes followed with devils, to cany his soul to hell ; to Lazarus with troops of angels, to convey him to Abraham's bosom: so that we may in earnest say, that death is the atheist's fear, and the Christian's desire. Diogenes could jestingly call it, the rich man's enemy, and the poor man's friend. This, this is that which makes death so easy, so familiar and dreadless to a believer. He sees death indeed, but death is not death without hell follow him ; and hell he sees not, but only as escaped and vanquished, and therefore is said not to see death. Now (says the behever) comes death, and the prince of this world with him ; but he hath no part in me ; all the bitterness and tears of death lie in the fear of hell, which, thanks be to Christ, hath nothing to do with me, nor I with it, therefore I taste not of death. Now comes God's sergeant, pale death, whom I know I cannot avoid ; but this I know, he comes not to an'cst me, to carry me to prison, but only to invite me to a feast, attend, and convey me thither. Let such fear him as are in debt and danger, mine are all • discharged and cancelled. He comes with his horse to take me up behind him, and to fetch me to my Father's joys, to a paradise as full of pleasures, as he carries the wicked to a prison full of pains. Pharaoh's baker and butler were sent for out of prison, the one to promotion, the other to execution ; he that had the ill di*eam expected the messenger with hon-or, the other longed for him with comfort. The latter is my case ; therefore, though I be reasonably well in this world, as a child at boai'd, yet home is home, therefore will I wait till this pale horse comes, and bid him heartily welcome ; and with him tlie angels of my father, who have a charge to lay my body in a bed of rest, and to bestow my soul under the altar, as it follows in the next seal, which is so pleasing a vision, that wo need no voice or preface, such as we had in the fonner, inviting us to ' Come and see.' The very excellency cf the object itself, is of force enough to draw and hold the eyes of our minds unto it.

THE SECOND SERMON.

And when Tie had opened the first seal, I saw under the altar the sauh, (tc. —

Verse 9.

When death hath been viewed in the palest, and hell in the blackest colours that may be, yet, if w^e have faith enough to see souls in their white

robes under the altar, there is comfort enough against the horror of both, enough to enable the believer to despise and trample over them both. In the opening of this fifth seal, I hope to find more soUd antidotes, more lively cordials, against the fear of death, than in all the dead and dry precepts of Bellai-mine's doting ' Art of Dying.' For this part of the vision was shewed John of purpose to sweeten the harshness of the former, that his spirit, grieved and amazed with the sight of the calamities and mortaUty under the persecuting butchers, rather than emperors, might yet be reheved and refi-eshed with a sight of the blessed estate of such as died either in or for the Lord.

Wlierein was proposed to his sight, and to our consideration, these severals. First, the immortal subsistence of souls, after their separation from the body. Secondly, then- sure and secure condition under the altar. Thirdbj, their dignity and felicity, clothed with white robes. Fourthly, their complete happiness at the last day, when the number of their brethren shall be accomplished.

Of all these Christ meant John should take notice, and all believers by his testimony, to their full consolation.

First, John, being in the spirit, could see spirits. Men, indeed, clad in flesh, can hardly imagine how a soul can have existence out of the flesh. Eagles can see that which owls cannot; so is that visible and credible to a spiritual man, which to a natural is invisible, incredible. And yet even nature's dim eyes have been clear enough to see this truth. Nature, I say, pm'e and mere nature, not only the Platonists, and other learned ones, who resolutely concluded it, and aptly resembled it to the distinct being of the waggoner after the breaking of the coach, the swimming out of the mariner in the wreck of the ship, the creeping of the snail out of the shell, the worm out of the case. Not unto the learned Grecians and civilized Romans, but even the rudest Scythians and unlettered savages; yea, though there be many languages, and sundry dialects in the world, yet is, and hath this ever been the common voice of them all, that souls die not with the body. And however the body's resurrection hath to them been a problem and paradox, yet is the soul's eternity an inbred instinct sucked from nature's breast, or rather an indelible principle stamped in the souls of men by the finger of God. And indeed, to right reason, what difiiculty or absurdity is there in it ? What lets me to conceive a being of it in the air, in the heaven, or in any other place, as well as in the compass of my body ? Is not one substance as capable of it as another ? Can it hve in the one, and not in the other ?

Hath it not, even whiles it is in the body, thoughts, motives, passions by itself, of its own, difi"erent fi-om the body, many cross and contrary to the disposition of the body ; cheerful ones when that is in pain or melancholy, choleric ones when that is phlegmatic ? Doth it wait upon the body for joy, sorrow, anger, and the like ? doth it not more often begin unto it ? Not to speak of martyi's innumerable, who have been exceedingly pleasant in the midst of torments, as if they had been spmts without flesh; how many ancient stories and daily examples have we of cheerful minds, in distempered, pained, languishing, dying bodies ? Reason will then conclude, that the soul may well be, and be sensible after death without the body, which even in the body can be well when that is ill, cheerily when that is hurt or sick, gi-ieved or troubled when that is in perfect temper and health. And, on the contrary, small reason have we to think it sleeps out of the body, or that it is seized by death out of the body, which never was

THE LIFE OF FAITH IN DEATH. • G3

overcome by sleep, which is but death's image and younger brother, in the body, but ever was working and discoursing in the deepest and deadest Bleeps of the body.

Besides, is it likely God would enrich it with such noble and divine dowries, to be salt only to the body, to exhale with it as brutes do ? The admirable invention of arts, letters, engines, the strange forecasts, prospects and presages of the imderstanding part, the infinite lodgings, the firm retainings of the memory, do they not argue an immortality ? Do men engi'ave curiously in snow, ice, or transient stufl'?

What means the greatest anxiety of men about their surviving name, if the mind perished with the body, if death were the cessation of the man, and destruction of the whole substance ? What should nature care for an airy accident without a subject, whereof no part of him should be sen-Bible ?

What means the very fear of death, if that were the end of all fears, and cares, and sorrows, if nothing remained sensible, and capable of any thing to be feared ?

Lastly, the fresh vigour, the unimpaired ability, that nimble agility of the mind in sickness, yea, many times the freer use of the faculties of it in the confines, yea, in the act and article of death, than in fonner health ; do they not tell the body, the soul means not to fall with the carcase (which hath the name* of falUng), lies not a d}ang with it, but erects itself, means only to leave it as an inhabitant doth a ruinous house, or as a musician lays down a lute whose strings are broken, a carpenter a worn instniment unfit any longer for service and emplojTuent, and as a guest makes haste out of his inn, to his long home and place of abode.

Loath I am to mingle philosophical cordials with divine, as water with wine, lest my consolations should be flash and dilute ; yet, even these and Buch like arguments have taught all philosophy (the brutish school of the Epicure excepted) to see and acknowledge that the soul is not a vapour but a spirit, not an accident but a substance, and elder and more excellent sister to the body, immixt and separable ; a guest that dies not with it, but diverts out of it, intending to revisit and reunite it again imto itself. But divinity certainly knows all this to be most certain, that it is a particle of divine breath, imbreathed into the red loam at the first, not arising out of it, but infused from heaven into it, and therefore may as well exist without the clay after it, as it did before it; and when the dust retm-ns to the dust, heaven goes to heaven, both to their originals, the soul first, because first and principal in every action, the body after, as an accessor^' and second: and so the day of death to the body, is the birth of eternity to the soul.

This undying and ever-hving condition of the soul, throughly rolled in the mind, firmly embraced, and undoubtedly apprehended by faith, works admirable efl'ects, as in Ufe, so in the approach of death. Seneca, that saw it but through clouds, crannies, and cn^vices, with ifs and and,s, yet pro-fesseth that when he thought but a little of it, and had some pleasant dreams of it, he loathed himself and all his trifling greatness. But most divinely and resolutely, Julius Palmer: ' He that hath his soul linked and tied to the body, as a thief s feet to a clog with gp>'cs and fetters, no marvel he knows not how to die, is loath to endure a division ; but he that useth, and can by faith separate the spirit from the body, to him it is as to drink this:' and with that drinks ofl' a cup of wine in his hand, and within a while after, as cheerfully drinks of death's cup in the sight of the same witnesses. Even * I suppose ' Cadaver,' from ' Cadare,' to fall.— Ed.

Socrates himself sweetened his cup of poison, with his discourse of the soul's immortality, to the amazement of the beholders. Such souls indeed as place all their felicity to be in a full-fed and well-complexioned body, and to partake of the senses' corporeal delights, hath not accustomed itself to its own retired delights of abstracted meditations, knows not how to be merry without a plaj^ellow, no marvel though it be as loath to part with the body, as a crooked, defoiTQed body to part with rich robes, gorgeous apparel, which were its only ornaments.

But such noble and regenerate spirits as know their own dowries, have inured themselves to subhmate contemplations, and to have their conversation in heaven, whiles they were in the body; such, I say, though they do not cynically revile the body as a clog, a prison, a lump of mire, &c., but know it to be the temple of the Holy Ghost, yet are they willing, yea, and sigh to be unclothed, to sow it awhile in the earth, being a dark and thick lantern, hindering the clear sight of it, till they may reassume it clarified, a spiritual, an angelified body made apt and obsequious to all divine services, to celestial ofiices without weariness, intermission, and such like vanity, which here it is subject unto: as willing as David to lay aside Saul's cumbersome armour, and to betake him to such as he could better wield and command at pleasure.

This is the first and lowest help faith hath to comfort the soul withal in the approach of death. When the strong men buckle, the keepers of the house fail; they wax dim that look out at the windows, when the whole outward man decays. That the inner man ages not, faints not, languisheth not, but rather Ufts up the head, is more fresh than formerly, and expects to be unburdened, and to be at hberty, fi"eed from coi^poreal, tedious, unpleasing works of sleeping, eating, drinking, and other meaner drudgery, that it may once come to higher and more spiritual emplojTuents better suiting with its native condition ; even as the lion longeth to be out of the grate, and the eagle out of the cage, that they may have their free scope and fuller liberty.

TJnDEK THE AliTAK.

Now if this much revived John (as no doubt it did) to see the soul's continuance after death, how much more to see their safety and rest under the altar ; that is, under Christ's protection and custody, under the shadow of his wings ; who makes them grateful to his Father, covers them from his wrath, safeguards them from aU molestation, procures them absolute quiet and security. The phrase alluding to the altar in the tabernacle, which gave the offerings grace and acceptation ; and partly to the safety of such as fled from the avenger to the altar. Christ is our altar, and aU the souls of such as die in his faith, are as Stephen bequeathed to him; he presents them to his Father, shelters them from accusation and condemnation, gathers them, as the hen her chickens, under his wings, being fully able to keep what is committed to him from all disquiet. He that could keep the three young men in the furnace, with whom he walked, yea, their very garments from the violence of fire; the Israelites and their apparel in the wilderness; Jonah in the whale's belly; how much more easily, now he sits at the right hand of his Father in majesty and glory, can he defend saved and glorified souls from external and internal annoyance, and settle them in absolute peace with him in his paradise, according to his frequent promise to such as overcome, ' They shall sit with me upon thrones.'

THE LIFE OF FAITH IN DEATH.

And long white Robes were gives unto every one.

If John had seen souls at rest, though in poor and mean condition, yet were a corner of an house with peace to be preferred to a wide pahico with disquiet; a poor diet with gi'een herbs, with quiet, to a feast with stalled oxen, and crammed fowls, sauced with bitter contention. But behold, ho sees not naked, beggarly, ragged souls, but adorned with white robes ; that is, endowed now, and glorified with perfect righteousness, purity, clarity, dignity, and festivity, of all which white apparel hath ever been an emblem and S3Tnbol in divine and human heraldiy, a clothing of princes in their great solemnities of coronation, triumphs and ovations, says Eusebius ; so was Herod an'ayed in cloth of silver, with which the sunbeams meeting, made such a glister, as amazed the people, that styled him a God ; so says Tertullian, were they wont to dignify sen'ants at their manumissions with white apparel, in token of their new liberty and preferment. At feasts gi-eat persons were wont to change their guests' ordinary clothes with a white synthesis, a colom' fit to express alacrity. Christians the w'hole Easter week wore white apparel. All the gi'aces the souls had here in this their infancy of regeneration, were but stained and polluted clouts; their knowledge dark and obscured with ignorance, their memories clouded with oblivion, their wills and affections tempested with mutinies and perturbations, their habits of holiness and charity sullied with defects and infumities, their dehghts dusk and parti-colom'ed and spotted with mixture of soitow ; all their apparel black and sad russet at the best; but they are purer than the crystal, whiter than the snow, or than fullers' eai'th is able to make them. The lihes, and Solomon, in all their royalties, not like unto the meanest of them. Call us no more Marah, may they say, but Naomi. For fulness of beauty is conferred upon them, God becoming fulness of clarity and light unto the understanding, without error or darkness, continuation of eternity to the memoiy without forgetfulness, multitude of peace to the will and affections without distm-bance or disorder; the superior part of the soifl pleasing itself in the blessed vision of God, and the inferior satiate with the fiTiition of rivers of pleasm-es, and variety of monthly finits. All thie joy increased by the amity and magnificence of the place, being God's palace, buUt and prepared for eternity, for the honour of his majesty, and habitation of his saints, all shining like precious jasper ; enchanted by the full choir of angels, and communion of holy men, excellent when they were on earth, now perfected in their virtues, and freed from frailties, never mouraing, bufc ever singing and lauding their Creator with hallelujahs, without defatigation or satiety; all this made up and consummate by the addition, not of a number of years, but of eternity uncountable, unalterable, incomprehensible. What are the chief miseries of this life, but the sordid apparel of the soul, the black thoughts, the speckled phantasies, dark obhvion, roiled, soiled afl'ections, all the habit of it squalid, jagged and tattered ? Now then was Joseph loath to change his prison rags, or Esther her old and mean clothes, with stately and royal array ? Promise a child a new satin suit, and see whether he will not long for it, and call for it; see whether he will cry when you bid him lay off his russets. Whence is it then that men die so dully, so unwillingly, so heavily ? Or whence can it be, but because they do not hve and certainly beheve, and expect these white robes for their souls ? When the beauty of a man's mind is here obfuscate and defaced ^vith melancholy tentations, opaque imaginations, with yellow cholcr, with pallid fear, with ruddy shame, with sable despair; 0 what would he give for a

candid, calm, and serene state of his mind! And when again it pleaseth God to aflford him sunshine hoUdays of joy and tranquilHty, wherein his mind is clad, and decked with golden, silver, and precious ornaments of peace, meekness, temperance, patience, 0 what an heaven would he think he had here on earth, if all his days were but such days ! Whereas this a Christian may well assure himself of, that whatever grace doth here prepare and begin, there glory will absolve and perpetuate, for matter of sanctity, purity, and alacrity of the mind, typified in these white robes; yea, further formatter of dignity and triumph, which then shall be most complete, where they shall see Christ at that day come in the glory of the Father with millions of his angels, descending and bringing down his heavenly Jerusalem, meeting them half way in the clouds, and there avenging them on their enemies, sitting with them as assessors upon thrones, to judge the angels, and the world of wicked ones, and such as have insulted over them on the earth, in which they shall then without any malignity of envy, anger, or appetite of revenge, take admirable and unspeakable content and comfort, yea, reckon it as the accomplishment of their inchoate glory, for which they are here said to long for and groan under the altar, till the number of all their brethren being consummate, God shall openly acquit and applaud them, condemn and confound their opposites. These, these are the only, stately, and kingly dignities ; the meditations whereof are only able to beget and foster true heroical and Christian resolutions against the fear of death and hell, otherwise unvanquished. To conclude, then: to the man that would both in health and sickness nom'ish ever in his breast undaunted and more conquering thoughts of these two enemies, instead of Bellarmine's many frivolous and tedious rules, I prescribe but these two practices of faith. The first is to work in his mind a settled and undoubted certainty; and the second, a lively and frequent representation of them.

Were heaven nothing else but an haven of rest, we know how welcome the one is to a sea-sick weather-beaten traveller, and may by that guess how desirable the other should be to a soul that long hath been tossed in the waves of this world, sick of its own sinful imaginations, and tired with external tentations. The happiest soul that ever hath sailed over this Euripus, in the best ship, in the healthfulest body that ever was, never had so calm a passage but that it hath had cause enough often to wish itself on shore. What with self-groaning phantasies, and injected tentations, how little respite or rest is here to be found! Is there any palace or tower here so high or strong that can keep diseases from the body ? how much less cares, sorrows, fears, and Satan's assaults from the soul ! Were there but such an island as some have dreamed of here on earth, that might free our bodies or minds from disquiet, but for the space of the moment of this life, how would people covet to dwell in it! In the times of the late wars in the Netherlands, how did the boors forsake their farms and fly into waUed cities for security from dangers! What violence then should our heavenly Jerusalem sufier of our wishes and desires ! were it but for the sweet and amiable name of peace whereof it is denominated, having indeed the God of peace for the king and keeper of it; walls many cubits high, into which no Sennacherib can shoot an arrow, nor the dragon-beast, nor the false prophet to seduce or to accuse; strong gates and bars excluding all enemies and annoyances, and so affording perfect tranquilHty to all the inhabitants, out of which they insult ten times more safely than the Jebusites did over the blind and lame, over the pale horse and his riders, death and hell. Consider and compare a little the simplicity of the worldling with the wis-

THE LIFE OF FAITH IN DEATH. G7

dom of the Christian, the happy stabihty of the one with the woful uncertainty of the other, at the time of their departure. Even foxes and hares and other such vermin, fore-acquaint themselves with muses, thickets, and burrows, into which, when they are chased and hunted, they may repair for safety; but these fools, while they live in health and prosperity, never think of the evil day: and when away they see they must go, how unshiftable are they ! Some of the meaner sort, they take care for their winding-sheet; or if richer, for a marble or painted sepulchre, which yet cannot preserve their bodies or names from putrefection; the supcrsitious sort, to be buried in a fidar's cowl or under an altar of stone ; the despcrater sort, wishing the mountains might cover them from the wrath of the Lamb. An harbour or receptacle for their souls they never think of; whence it is that they are as loath to have them turned out of their bodies as Hagar and Ishmacl to be out of doors, and exposed to misery and dangers; or rather as Cain, to be cast as a vagabond out of God's presence, fearing lest every one that met him next should cut his throat for a cursed caitiff. And indeed what else can they look for, but instantly to be devoui'ed of the roaring lion that waits at the door of death, to fetch away their souls into the place where there is no night nor day. Only the wise believer, he hath provided a sanctuaiT, or city of refuge, against time of danger, hath learned wisdom of the conies, who, though a little nation, yet wise and forecasting, have their refuge in the rocks. Christ is the believer's rock and his strong tower, his altar, and therefore he fears not what death can do unto him. Christ hath assured him on his word, that he shall have all tears wiped away, and the Spirit secured him that he shall rest from his labours. In which regard he is so far from lingering and hankering after a continuance in this ISaca of tears, this wilderness of fears, that he studies rather to enter into this rest, cries out with David, ' Woe is mc, that I dwell in Meshek and Kedar ! when I think of peace, there is war at hand.' With Jeremiah, ' Woe is me, that I dwell with a contentious people.' With Ehas, ' I am weaiy of my life; an end, good Lord.' Or with blessed Simeon, ' Now, Lord, let thy servant depart in peace, into that land of peace. Here I have seen that there is no peace to be had; all here is vanity and vexation of spirit.' For a minute of peace, months of vanity ; for a dram of honey, pounds of aloes and gall. Souls here find no resting-place for the soles of their feet, till they come to the Mount Ararat, whither their works follow them, where their sorrows leave them. And so conclude with Vidus Bressius: ' 0 that my soul had the wings of tlie dove, to fly and make haste to that mountain of God, and hill of tranquillity and eternity.' Thus the one dies howling, the other singing; because the one knows ho changeth for the better, the other for the worse. The one takes death for a gulf of sorrow, the other for a port of liberty and ease ; the one because he is stripped for a scourging, the other because he lays off his clothes to go to bed after his toil.

If Queen Elizabeth, whiles she was a prisoner in her sister's days, could have been fully assured, and had clearly foreseen her own long, glorious, and prosperous reign ensuing, would she have wished herself a milkmaid for the present? No; it had been impossible. All our fears and doubts arise from infidelity, and the uncertainty, or else from the deadness and dulness, of our hopes; to put life into which there can be no better, no other help than first to ground and root our faith in Christ thi-ongh the word and Spirit, and then often to be setting before our eyes a state and condition happy above all that cities, kingdoms, crowns, pearls and jewels, mar-

riages, feasts, and all other metaphors and parables of Scrijiture, do but shadow out unto us: which supereminent and superabundant felicity Paul, that had been an eye-witness, not able to describe, much less to amplify, sums it up, ' An exceeding-exceeding, eternal weight of glory.'

A superlative, transcendent phrase, such as is not to be found in all the rhetoric of the heathens, because they never wrote of such a theme, nor with such a spirit. If any of us had but half the strength of Paul's faith, or life of his hope, or cheerful fore-imaginations, which he had of this felicity, we could not but have the same desires and longings for our dissolution and fruition of them. If we thoroughly believed and remembered this to be the state of ourselves and dead friends, would we or could we so fear for ourselves or mourn for them in blacks whiles they are in whites, as Jacob for Joseph, thinking him devoured by some evil beast, when he was lording it in Egypt? No, verily; but think of it and look for it we would with the same affections that children do for their plays, apprentices their freedom, spouses their man-iage, labourers their wages, husbandmen their harvest, heirs their inheritance, princes their kingdoms. Amongst many thousands, I choose to instance and end with Monica and Augustine's examples, the mother using this speech to her son: ' All that I have desired to live to see is that which I now see—thee, my son, a Christian. And now, what do I any longer in this base and impui-e world ?' And he of his mother: ' What cause have I to mourn for a mother of whose happiness I may be so well assured ?'

When I Awake I shall be Satisfied.

Write, 0 Christ, these meditations in our hearts, imprint these patterns so fast in our memories, that we may all the days of our lives have frequent forethoughts of our appointed change, chiefly in that last and solemn day of our death, when the prince of this world will be busy and we shall be weak. Let thy Comforter then bring them to mind, that by faith we may overcome, and, having the ark of thy covenant in eye, cheerfully pass through the waters of Jordan, and so take possession of that land which flows with all variety of delights, v^thout either end or satiety. ' Even so, come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.'

A COAL FROM THE ALTAR TO KINDLE THE HOLY FIRE OF ZEAL.

IN A SERMON PREACHED AT A GENERAL VISITATION AT IPSWICH.

TO MY KEVEREND FRIEND ME SAMUEL WARD

Sir — Your sermon, which I copied partly from your mouth, and partly from your notes, I have adventured into the hght; encouraged by the approbation and earnest entreaty of such whose judgments you reverence and whose love you embrace; who also have made bold here and there to vaiy some things, not of any great consequence, if I can judge. I was loath to smother such fire in my breast, but to vent it, to inflame others. If you shall blame me, I know others will thank me. What I have done is out of zeal to God and his church.

Your affectionate Friend,

AMBROSE WOOD.

VOL. m.

Be zealous. — Eev. ITT. 19.

This "vratcli-word of Christ, if it be not now a word in season, I know not when ever it was, or will be. Would he now vouchsafe to bestow a letter upon his church here on earth, should he need to alter the tenor of this ? Which being the last to the last of the seven churches, why may it not (saith an ancient, upon this text) typify the estate of the last age of his churches ? the coldness whereof himself hath expressly foretold. And if God should now send through the earth such sui'veying angels as Zachariah mentions, chap, i., could they return any other observation of their travels than theirs, ' The whole world lies in lukewannness' ? which makes me often, in my thoughts, proportion these ends of time to the like period of David's age, when no clothes were enough to keep heat in him, 1 Kings i. 1. Faith, I grant, is a more radical, vital, and necessary grace ; but yet not so wholly out of grace with the times as poor zeal, which yet, if by any means it might once again be reduced into favour and practice, before time sets, and be no more, I doubt not but Christ would also jei once again, in this evening of the world, come and sup with us, a favour including all other in it.

j\Iy desire especially is, that this our island might take it to itself, as well as if it had by name been directed to it; what would it hurt us to make an especial benefit and use of it ? Some of our own have so applied it (either out of their judgments or afi'ections, I say not). Learned Fulke marvels if it were not by a prophetical spirit penned for us ; others more resolutely have made it a singular type of pui-pose for us. Their warrant I know not, especially if it be true, which all travellers tell you, that they find more zeal at home than abroad. We are, I grant, in smuhy respects equal to Laodicea. Even the very names thereof, as well the first and oldest in regard of the blessings of God, A/otrcroX/c, God's darling, as the latter in regard of good laws and civility, Laodicea, how well do they become us ? As rich as they, and that in the very same commodity of wools, abounding as they with many learned Zenos, and bountiful Hieros, parallel in all regards, I would I could say lukewarmness excepted. But I must be a faithful and true witness, and yet this is all I have to say; it was, as I conceive, Laodicea's complexion, and not her constitution ; her practice, not her orders ; personal lukewarmness, not legal, which Christ strikes at. That fault I find in my text, the same I find in our common Christians, whose spiritual condition and state is too like the external situation of om* country, between the torrid and the frigid zones, neither hot nor cold ; and so like Laodicea, that if we take not warniug, or warming, we may, I fear, in time to come be spued out of God's mouth.

For this present assembl}^ of ministers, could all the choice and time in the world have better fitted me than mine ordinary lot ? If fire be set upon the beacons, will not the whole country soon be warned and enlightened ?

For myself also, methinks it will better beseem my years to heat, than to teach, my ancients; to enkindle their afi'ections, then to inform their judgments. And whereas Paul bids Titus preach zeal with all authority, though in mine own name I crave your patience and audience, yet in his name that is the first of the creatures, and Amen, I counsel him that hath an ear, to hear what the Spirit saith to the churchep.

ZjjXwffov, * Be zealous.''

A COAL FE03I THE ALTAE.

ZjjXwffov, ' Be zealous.' — Rev. IH. 19.

Zeal hath been little practised, less studied. This lieavenly fire hath ever been a stranger upon earth; few in all ages that have felt the heat of it, few that have known the nature of it. A description will rake it out of the embers of obscurity; and it may be that many, when they shall know it better, will better affect it.

2. Zeal hath many counterfeits and alHes.* There are many strange fii'es, which, ha^'ing sought to carry away the credit of it, have brought in an ill name upon it. From these it would be distinguished.

3. Zeal is everywhere spoken against; it hath many enemies and few fi-iends. The world can no more abide it, than beasts can the elementary fire; the rebukes of many have fallen upon it, the devil weaves cunning hes to bring down the honour of it. Oh, that we could raise and maintain it, by setting forth the deserved praise of it, and challenge it ft'om the false imputations of such as hate it without a cause.

4. Zeal hath in this our earthly mould little fuel, much quench-coal; is hardly fired, soon cooled. A good Christian, therefore, would be glad to know the incentives and preservatives of it, which might enkindle it, inflame it, feed it, and revive it when it is going out.

6. Zeal, in the world's opinion, is as common as fire on eveiy man's hearth; no man's heart without zeal, if eveiy man might be his owti judge. If most might be heard, there is too much of it. But the contrary will appear if the right marks be taken, and the true niles of trial and conviction be observed, and the heart thereby examined.

6. Zeal generally handled will break as lightning in the air, and seize upon no subject. Application must set it on men's hearts, and exhortation wai-m this old and cold age of the world, chiefly this temperate cUmate of our nation.

The First Part.

It was said of old, that zeal was an intention of love; of late, that it is a compound of love and auger, or indignation.

The ancients aimed right and shot near, if not somewhat with the shortest. The modern well discovered the use and exercise of more affec-» Qu.'AUoys?'— Ed.

tions than love within the fathom and compass of zeal; but in helping that default went themselves somewhat wide, and came not close to the mark; which I ascribe not to any defect of eyesight in those sharp-sighted eagles, but only to the want of fixed contemplation. And, to speak truth, I have oft wondered why poor zeal, a virtue so high in God's books, could never be so much beholden to men's writings as to obtain a just treatise, which hath been the lot of many particular virtues of inferior worth, a plain sign of too much undervalue and neglect.

He that shall stedfastly view it shall find it not to be a degree or intention of love, or any single afiection (as the schools rather confined than defined zeal), neither yet any mixed affection (as the latter rather compounded than comprehended the nature of it), but a hot temper, higher degree or intention of them all. As varnish is no one colour, but that which gives gloss and lustre to all, so the opposites of zeal, key-coldness and lukewarmness, which by the law of contraries must be of the same nature, are no affections, but several tempers of them all.

Paul warrants this description where he speaks of the twelve tribes. They served God with intention or vehemency, Acts xxvi. 7.

The root shews the nature of the branch. Zeal comes of a word framed of the very sound and hissing noise which hot coals or bm-ning iron make when they meet with their contrary. In plain English, zeal is nothing but heat; from whence it is that zealous men are oft in Scriptm'e said to bum in the Spirit.

He that doth moderately or remissly affect anything may be styled Philemon, a lover ; he that earnestly or extremely, Zelotes, a zealot; who to all the objects of his aftections is excessively and passionately disposed; his love is ever fervent, his desires eager, his delights ravishing, his hopes longing, his hatred deadly, his anger fierce, his grief deep, his fear terrible. The Hebrews express these intentions by doubling the word.

This being the nature of zeal in general, Christian zeal, of which we desire only to speak, differs fi.'om carnal and worldly chiefly in the causes and objects.

It is a spiritual heat wrought in the heart of man by the holy Ghost, improving the good aftections of love, joy, hope, &c., for the best service and furtherance of God's glory, with all the appurtenances thereof, his word, his house, his saints, and salvation of souls; vising the contrary of hati'ed, anger, gi'ief, &c., as so many mastiffs to fly upon the throat of God's enemies, the devU, his angels, sin, the world, with the lusts thereof. By the virtue whereof a zealot may run aU through all his affections, and with David breathe zeal out of every pipe, after this manner for a taste.

Love. —' How do I love thy law, 0 Lord, more than the honey or the honeycomb, more than the thousands of silver and gold ?'

Hatred. —' Thine enemies I hate with a perfect hatred.'

Joy. —' Thy testimonies are my delight. I rejoice more in them than they that find gi'eat spoils, more than in my appointed food.'

G-rief, —' Mine eyes gush out rivers of tears. 0 that my head were a fountain of tears, because they destroy thy law !'

Hope. —' Mine eyes are dim with waiting: how do I long for thy salvation !'

Fear. —Thy judgments are terrible, I tremble and quake,' &c.

Look what pitch of afiection the natural man bestows upon his dearest darling, what insatiable thirst the covetous worldling upon his Mammon, the ambitious upon his honour, the voluptuous upon his pleasure, the same

the Christian stviveth in equal, yea (if possible), far exceeding terms to convert and confer upon God and his worship.

Li brief, to open a little crevice of further light, and to give a little glimpse of heat; zeal is to the soul, that which the spirits are to the bod}^ wine to the spirits, putting vigour and agility into them. Whence comes that elegant antithesis in the Scripture, ' Jie not drunk with wine, wherein is excess, but be tilled with the Spirit.'

Christ is said to lead his spouse into the wine-cellar; which simile Bernard-- delighting oft to repeat, in two or three sennons interprets of a special measure of zeal inspired into his church. Thus (saith he) Christ led his disciples into the wine-cellar on the day of Pentecost, Acts ii., and filled them and the house with such zeal, as they came forth like giants refreshed with wine, and seemed to the people as men drunk with new wine.

It is to the soul as wings to the fowl. This also is a Scripture emblem to picture the angels with wings, as in the hangings of the temple, and in the visions of the Revelation, in token of their ardent and zealous execution of God's will, whence also they have their name seraphim; ' he maketh his ministers a flame of fire,' Heb. i. 7.

To this fire and these wings, which we in the Lord's prayer desire to imitate, there is nothing in us answerable but our zeal; as wheels to the chariot, which makes us not go, but run the ways of God's commandments, and so run that we may obtain. As sails to the wind, and wind to the saUs, to which alludes the phrase so frequent in Scripture, PIfwphnnj.

As courage to the soldier, mettle to the horse, lustf to the gi'ound, which makes it bring forth much fruit, yea, a hundi-edfold, vivacity to all creatures. To conclude this, this is that celestial fire which was shadowed out unto us by that poor element in comparison and beggarly rudiment, the fire (I mean) of such necessary use in the law, which rather than it should be wanting, the Lord caused it to descend from heaven, that it might cause the sacrifices to ascend thither again, as a sweet incense unto the Lord, without which no burnt-ofl'ering was acceptable.

The Second Part.

But now, as then, there are certain fiJsc fires, abominable to God, odious to men, dangerous to the Nadabs and Abihues that meddle with them, bringing thereby coals upon their OAvn heads, and ill favour upon all their services ; and not only so, but that which is worse, an ill report and surmise even on those that offer the right fire, and ser\'e the Lord in spirit and truth ; yet for their sakes is the name of zeal blasphemed all the day long.

Against these, as then, so now, severe caveats and clear distinctions must be laid, lest such as have not their senses exercised to put a diflerence, mistake poisonful weeds for wholesome herbs, to their own destruction, and for the sake of one revile the other, to the •wTong of God and his saints.

It fares not otherwise with the soul than with the body; besides the native and radical heat, the principal instrument of life, there are aguish and distempered heats, the causes of sickness and death.

To discern of those requires some skill and judgment; yet a good empiric, a Christian of experience, will give a shrewd guess at them, the easier and the better if he mark these following signs and symptoms common to all the kinds of zeal, here also following.

First, They are deeply sick of the pharisaical humour, they love to be * Serm. xli. in Can. iv. 9. t That is, ' fatness or fertiUty.'— Ed.

seen of men, and say with Jehu, ' Come and see how zealous I am for the Lord of Hosts.' They proclaim their alms with a trumpet, paint their good deeds upon church windows, engrave their legacies upon tombs, have their acts upon record. Thus, comets blaze more than fixed stars ; aguish heats breed flushings, and are more seen in the face than natural warmth at the heart. Scholars count hiding of art the best art; the godly man studies by all means how to conceal the one hand from the other in doing well. Hiding of zeal is the best zeal.

Secondly, Of Ahab's disease; exceeding in external humiliation, affected gestures, passionate sighs, loudness of voice, odd attires, and such like. These know how to rend the garment, hang the head with the bulrush, to ■whip and lance their skins with Baal's priests, and yet strangers to a wounded spirit; not but that true and hearty zeal doth lift up the eyes, knock the breast, dance before the ark. Therefore, this character may deceive the unwary. Let Eli take heed of judging Hannah's spirit rashly by the moving of her lips ; yet hypocrites so usually strain nature, and without a cause exceed, and that in public, and upon the stage, that for the most part their actions and affections are palpable; as Jesuits, Capuchins, &c., yea, in many histrionical protestants. Horse-coursers' jades will bound, curvet, and shew more tricks, than a horse well mettled for the road or cart.

Thirdly, You may know them by their diligence and curiosity in lighter matters, joined with omission and neglect of greater, wise in circumstance and careless in substance, tithing mint, straining at gnats, &c. In all cheap and easy duties, prodigal; niggardly and slothful in the weighty things of the law. These have at command good words, countenance, yet tears fi-om their eyes sooner than a farthing from their purse, having this world's goods, and see their brother want; these stick up feathers for the carcase, beguiling the simple, cozening the world, but chiefly themselves.

Foarthli/, These fires cannot keep themselves within their own hearths, these spirits cannot keep themselves within their own circles. True zeal loves to keep home, studieth to be quiet in other men's dioceses; false zeal loves to be gadding, is eagle-eyed abroad, and mole-eyed at home. Instead of burning bright and shining clear, like brinish Hghts, they sparkle and spit at others, or, like iU-couched fireworks, let fly on all sides ; only out of their wisdom they know how to spare Agag and the great ones, and be sure they anger not their great masters, and meddle with their matches ; whereas it is the property of fire that comes from above, to spare the yielding sheath, and melt the resisting metal, to pass by the lower roofs, and strike the towered pinnacle, as Nathan, David ; EUas, Ahab ; John, Herod; Jonas, Nmeveh, &c.

Fifthly, Note, also, in all their proceedings wdth others, instead of wholesome severity (which rightly zealous men never come unto but by compulsion, and not without compassion of the ofiender, weeping wdth Moses and Samuel over the people, being sorry with the emperor, that they know how to write sentences of condemnation), these delight in cruelty, the brand of the malignant church; feed their eyes with massacres, as the queen-mother.* No diet so pleasing to these ravening wolves as the warm blood of the sheep. These are they that cry fire and faggot, away with them, not worthy to live; their veiy mercies are cruelty; especially in their own cause, they heat the furnace seven times hotter than in God's.

Lastly, These meteors and vapours have no constant light, or continued heat (as the fixed stars, ever like themselves), but have on\j their aguish *" I presume tlie reference is to tlic massacre of St Bartholomew.— Ed.

fits and lunatic moods; sometimes, in adversity, they are pood under the rod, as Pharaoh ; again, in prosperity, Hke the fat kine of Bashan, ungrateful and forgetful. iSometimes in prosperity-, when the sun of peace shincth on them, and the favourable influence of great ones, they shoot forth their blade with the corn on the housetop, running with the stream, and sailing with the wind ; sometimes their zeal depends upon the life of Jehoiada ; sometimes on the company of the prophets. Commonly in the beginning they blaze like straw-fire, but in the end go out in smoke, and smother; whereas in theii- entrance into profession, they galloped into shows, and made some girds at hand, they tire, give in, and end in the flesh, whereas all natural motions are swiftest toward their end.

The vestal fii'es were perpetual, and the fire of the altar never went out. Spices and wefts of these e\ils may be foimd in the sincerest Christians; but they sufl'er not the dead flies to lie and putrefy in the precious boxes of true zeal. Of all these the preacher's caveat may be constmed, ' be not over just,'- though it may also admit other interpretations, as after shall appear.

These are the special notes and SATuptoms of strange fires. The kinds, also, are many, and might be distributed into many heads; but I will reduce them into three, which are known by their names:—

1. Counterfeit zeal, fiilse fii'e.

2. Bhnd zeal, smoky fu'c, or fool's fii'e, ignis fatiais.

3. Turbulent zeal, wild fu"e.

The first, wanting trath and sincerity, propounds sinister ends.

The second, knowledge and discretion, takes wi'ong ways.

The third, love and humilit}', exceeds measure.

The first abounds amongst subtle and crafty professors, and is to be abhorred and detected.f

The second, among simple and devout, is to be pitied and directed.

The third, amongst passionate and aflectionate, and is to be moderated and coiTected.

The first is the mere vizor of zeal, looldng asquint one way, and tending another ; pretending God and his glory, intending some private and sinister end ; first either of honour and promotion, as Jehu, who marched furiously, and his word was the Lord of hosts, but his project was the kingdom.

Secondly, at filthy lucre ; as Demetrius and his fellows, who cried. Great is Diana of Ephesus, but meant her little silver shiines. It cannot be denied, but many such there were who helped to pull down the abbeys, not out of any hatred to those unclean cages, but to rear their own houses out of the ruins, and spoiled copies to make cushions.| Judas complained of superfluity, but giieved it fell besides his bag. Many hold temporalities, tithes, and glebes unlawful, because they are loath to forego them. If Jezebel proclaimed a fast, let Naboth look to his vineyard. If the usurer and tradesman frequent sermons, let the buyer and borrower look to themselves. It is too common a thing to make zeal a lure and stale to di-aw customers, a bait of fraud, a net to entrap ; wth malicious Doegs, to make it a stalking horse for revenge against the priest, thereby to discharge their gall at mmisters and other Christians, for the omission and commission of such things as themselves cai'C not for. With the strumpet in the Proverbs, to wipe their mouths, and frequent the sacrifices, that they may be free from suspicion.

* * Be not over just' hath seven expositions here, two or three more hereafter. t Qu. ' detested •?'— Ed. That is, ' tore up manuscripts, and stuffed cushions with the fragments."— Ed.

All these evils have I seen under the sunshine of the gospel; but by how much zeal is more glorious than common profession, by so much is dissembled fervency more detestable than usual hypocrisy ; yea, no better than devilish villainy and double iniquity. Such painted walls and whited sepulchres the Lord will break down. Let all Timothies and Nathanaels learn to descry them, and discard them. The cure of this was deeply fore-laid by Christ, ' I counsel thee to buy gold tried in the fire.' All is not gold that glistereth ; an image of faith breeds but a show of zeal. Many seemed to trust in Christ, but Christ would not trust them; but such faith as will abide the fire brings forth zeal that will abide the touchstone.

The second is erroneous or blind zeal, not according to knowledge, Rom. X. I bear many devout papists witness (though I fear the leamedst of them be self-condemned) that they have this zeal, persuading themselves they do God best service when they please the devil most in their will-worship. The same witness I bear many separatists, though I fear most of them be sick of self-conceitedness, new-fangleness, and desire of mastership. For who would not suspect such zeal, which condemns all refonned churches, and refuseth communion with such as they themselves confess to be Christians, and consequently such as have communion with Christ ? It would grieve a man, indeed, to see zeal misplaced, like mettle in a blind horse ; to see men take such pains, and yet fall into the pit. This made Paul to wish himself Anathema for the sake of such ; and yet the multitude and common people reason thus : Is it possible but these men have the right ? But, alas ! how should it be otherwise, when a blind company will follow a blind sect-master? This being one property of blind zeal (xaxo^jjX/a), a fond admiration and apish imitation of some person, for some excellence they see in him, which so dazzles their eyes, that they cannot discern their errors and infirmities, which they oftener inherit than their virtues ; as appears in the Lutherans, and the Jews, that would sacrifice their children to Moloch, in imitation of Abraham. In these the devil becomes an angel of light, and playeth that dragon, Rev. xii., pouring out floods of persecution against the church, causing devout men and women to raise tragedies, breathe out threatenings, and persecute without measure. Than these the devil hath no better soldiers ; but when their scales fall from their eyes, and they come into God's tents, God hath none like unto them. The cure of this divinely is forelaid by Christ also, to buy eye-salve of him. Angels have eyes as weU as wings to guide their flight; when the ship is under sail, and hath the freshest way, it hath most need to look to the steerage, keep the watch, have an eye to the compass and landmarks.

The third kind is turbulent zeal, called by James bitter zeal, a kind of wild fire transporting men beyond all bounds and compass of moderation ; proceeding sometime of a weakness of nature in men, that have no stay of their passion, hke to clocks whose springs are broken, and cities whose walls are down. Zeal is a good servant, but an ill master ; mettle is dangerous in ahead-strong horse. And so the poets (which were the heathen's prophets) shadowed out the cure of this in Minerva's golden bridle, wherewith she managed her winged Pegasus. There is too much of this bitter zeal, of this Hierapicra, in all our books of controversies ; but, especially, there hath been too much in our domestical wars; some sons of Bichri have blown the trumpet of contention, trumpets of anger. The churches of God should have no such custom ; Oh, that our churches understood that

saymg

In quarrels of this natm-e Paul spends his zeal, not in partaking, but in

parting the fray, beating do\vn the weapons on both sides. "NMio art thou that judgest? who art thou that condenmest thy brother? Rom. xiv. 10 ; as if he should say, ' the matters ai'e not tanti, we have made the devil too much sport ah-eady; who threw in these bones to set us together by the ears, whilst he lets in the common enemy upon us. Charity, charity is the builder of churches; strife about trifles hath wasted many famous ones, and placed the temples of Mahomet where the golden candlestick was wont to stand. We pity the former ages contending about leavened and unleavened bread, keepmg of Easter, fasting on Sundays, &c. The future ages will do the like for us. Oh ! that the Lord would put into the hearts both of the governors and parties to these quarrels, once to make an end of these Midianitish wars, that we might jointly poui* out the vials of oui" zeal upon the throne of the beast.

Thus have you heard the errors and counterfeits of zeal, through whose sides, and upon the back of which, divers of the malicious world use to beat those whom it hates, because their works are better than their own ; injuriously concluding that all zealots are alike. Thus I have heard our merchants complain that the set up blues have made strangers loathe the rich woaded blues, only in request; this is an old sophism. True judgment would teach us to conclude that the best drugs have their adulterates ; the most current coins their slips ; and that -vdi-tue which so many hypocrites put on, to grace themselves withal, is surely some rare and excellent jewel.

The Third Part.

The true zealot, whose fervency is in the spirit, not in show ; in substance, not in circumstance ; for God, not himself; guided by the word, not with humours ; tempered with charity, not with bitterness : such a man's praise is of God though not of men ; such a man's worth cannot be set forth with the tongues of men and of angels.

Oh! that I had so much zeal as to steep it in its o\vn liquor ; to set it forth in its own colours, that the Lord would touch my tongue with a coal from his altar, that I might regain the decayed credit of it with the sons of men.

It is good to be zealous in good things, and is it not best in the best ? Or is there any better than God, or the kingdom of heaven ? Is it comely whatever we do, to do it with all our might ? Only uncomely when we serve God ? Is mean and mediocrity in all excellent arts excluded, and only to be admitted in religion ? Were it not better to forbear poetr}' or painting, than to rhyme and daub ? And were it not better to be of no rehgion, than to be cold or lukewarm in any ? Is it good to be earnest for a friend, and cold for the Lord of hosts ? For whom dost thou reserve the top of thy aftections ? for thy gold ? for thy Herodias ? &c. 0 ye adulterers and adulteresses, can ye ofter God a baser indignity ? What aileth the world ? Is it afraid, think we, that God can have too much love ; who, in regard of his own infinite beauty, and the beams he vouchsafeth to cast upon us, desen'es the best, yea all, and a thousand times more than all ? Ought not all the springs and brooks of our affection to run into this main ? May not he justly disdain that the least riveret should be drained another way ? That anything in the world should be respected before him, equalled with him, or loved out of him, of whom, for whom, and through whom are all things ? Who, or what can be sufficient for him, our Maker and Saviour ? In other objects fear excess; here no ecstasy is high enough.

Consider and reason thus with thyself (0 man), canst thou brook a sluggard in thy work, if thou be of any spirit thyself? Is not a slothful messenger as vinegar to thy teeth, and as smoke to thine eyes ? Hast thou any sharpness-of wit ? is not dulness tedious unto thee ? And shall he that is all spirit (for whom the angels are slow and cold enough) take pleasure in thj drovrsy and heavy service ? Do men choose the forwardest deer in the herd, the liveliest colt in the drove ? and is the backwardest man fittest for God ? Is not all his dehght in the quickest and cheerfulest givers and servitors ? Even to Judas he saith, That thou doest, do quickly; so odious is dulness unto him. What else moved him to ordain that the neck of the consecrated ass should be broken rather than offered up in sacrifice ? Doth God hate the ass ? Or is it not for the sake of the quality of the creature ; which hath ever among the heathens been an hieroglyphic of heaviness and tardity.

Thirdly, This zeal is so gracious a favourite with God, that it graces vdth him all the rest of his graces. Prayer, if it be frequent,* prevaileth much ; the zealous witnesses had power to shut and open heaven, Kev. xii. By this Israel -wi-estled with God, overcame, and was called a prince with God ; this strengthened the heart of Moses (as Aaron and Hur supported his hands) till the Lord said. Let me alone; this made Cornehus's prayer to come into heaven, whither oui' cold suits can no more ascend than vapom's fit'om the still, unless there be fire under it. Repentance, a needful and primary grace, which the Baptist so urged ; but then we must be zealous and repent (as my text joins them), or else no repentance pleaseth God ; nor are there fruits worthy repentance. Alms and good deeds ai'e sacrifices pleasing to God; but, without zeal, the vddow's mites are no better than the rest; it is the cheerful losef that doubleth the gift. Generally, as some man's mark and name furthereth the sale of his commodity, so zeal enhanceth aU the graces of God. It pitieth me for Laodicea that lost so much cost, had as many virtues, did as many duties as other churches; but, for want of this, Christ could not sup with them. Furnish a table with the principallest fare and daintiest dishes that may be had ; let them be roasted and boiled to the halves, or stand on the table till they be lukewarm ! what will the guests say ? All that we can do, is but the deed done, opus operatum, unless zeal confer grace.

Fourthly, Zeal is the richest evidence of faith, and the clearest demonstration of the Spirit. The baptism of water is but a cold proof of man's Christendom, being common to all comers ; but if any be baptized with fire, the same is sealed up till the day of redemption. If any shall say. Friend, what doest thou profess a rehgion without it ? how can he choose but be struck dumb ? Can we suppose wormwood without bitterness, a man without reason ? then may we imagine a religion, and a Christian, without spirit and zeal.

The Jesuit saith, I am zealous; the Separatist, I am zealous ; their plea is more probable than the lukewarm worldlings', that sei-ve God without life. If the colour be pale and wan, and the motion insensible, the party is dead or in a swoon; if good and swift, we make no question. The zealous Christian is never to seek for a proof of his salvation ; what makes one Christian differ from another in grace, as stars do in gloiy, but zeal ? All believers have a like precious faith ; all true Christians have all graces in their seeds ; but the degrees of them are no way better discerned than by zeal. Men of place distinguish themselves by glistering pearls. A Christian * Qu. 'fervent?'— Ed. f That is, 'eagerness.'— Ed.

of degrees shines above others in zeal. Comparisons I know are odious to the world, that i'lJii would have all alike ; but the righteous is better than his neighbour. All Christians are the excellent of the earth ; the zealot surmounteth them all, as Saul the people by the head and shoulders; he is ever striving to excel and exceed others and himself.

One of these is worth a thousand others, one doth the work of many, which made him speak of Elisha* in the plural number, ' The horsemen and chariots of Israel;' besides his own work, he wins and procures others, makes proselvtes. It is the nature of fire to multiply, one coal kindles another ; his work so shines, that others come in and glorify God, marvelling and inquiring what such forwardness should mean, concluding with Nebuchadnezzar, ' Surely the servants of the most high God.'

These are good factors and agents, doing God as good service, as Boute-fewsf do the devil, and Jesuits the pope, sparing no cost nor laboui-, and what they cannot do themselves, they do by their friends ; * Who is on my side, who ?' &c.

As for lets and impediments, they overlook and overleap them, as fire passeth from one house to another; neither is there any standing for any of God's enemies before them ; they make havoc of their own and others' cornip-tions. If you will rightly conceive of Peter's zeal in converting and confounding, you must imagine (saith Chiysostom) a man made all of fire walking in stubble. All difficulties are but whetstones of their fortitude. The sluggard saith, ' There is a lion in the way.' Tell Samson and Dand so; they will the rather go out to meet them. Tell Nehemiah of Sanballat; ho answercth, ' Shall such a man as I fear ?' Tell Caleb there are Anakims, and he will say, ' Let us go up at once,' &c. Let Agabus put off his girdle and bind Paul, let him be told in every city that bonds await him; he is not only ready for bonds, but for death. Tell Jubentius he must lay down his hfe ; he is as willing as to lay off his clothes. Tell Luther of enemies in Worms ; he will go, if all the tiles of the houses were de^^ls. The horse neighs at the trumpet, the leviathan laughs at the spear. They that mean to take the kingdom of God by violence, provide themselves to go through fii-e and water, carry their lives in their hands, embrace fagots ; they say to father and mother, ' I know you not,' to carnal coimsellors and friendly enemies, ' Get you behind me, Satan.' Zeal is as strong as death, hot as the coals of juniper, floods of many waters cannot quench it. Agar, Prov. XXX., speaks of four things, stately in their kind; I will make bold to add a fifth, comprehending and excelling them all, namely, the zealous Christian, strong and bold as the Uon, not turning his head for any; as swift as the greyhound in the ways of God's commandments, in the race to heaven ; as nimble as the goat, climbing the steep and craggy mountains of piety and virtue; a victorious king, overcoming the world and his lusts ; Solomon in all his royalty is not clothed hke one of these in his fiery chariot.

To cut off the infinite praises of zeal, let us hear what honourable testimonies and glorious rewards it pleaseth God to confer upon it. David's ruddy complexion, and his skill in music, made him amiable in the eyes of men; but the zeal of his heart styled him a man after God's own heart, and the sweet singer of Israel. Abraham, that could find in his heart to sacrifice his Isaac, was called the friend of God. The same virtue denominated Jacob a prince with God. Ehsha,* the chariots and horsemen; Paul, a chosen vessel, &c. • ' Elijah.'— Ed. t This is the French Boute-feu, an inceadiary.— Ed.

Neither dotli God put them oflf with names and empty favours, but upon these he bestows his grace. David dedicateth his Psalms to him that excelled ; God, in dispensing of favours, observeth the same rule, : ' To him that overcometh will I give,' &c. To him that hath shall be given. Husbandmen cast their seed upon the fertilest ground, which returns it with the greatest interest; God gives most talents to those that improve them in the best bank. Joseph shall have a parti-coloui-ed coat, of all kinds of graces and blessings; and because he knows this will purchase them hatred and env}', he takes them in special tuition; if any will hurt his zealous witnesses, there goeth out a fire out of their mouths to devour their enemies. Rev. xii. A man were better anger all the witches in the world than one of these. If God bring any common judgments, he sets his seal. Rev. vii. 3, and than, Ezek. ix., on their foreheads, and sprinkles their posts, Exod. xii.; snatcheth Lot out of the fire (who burneth in zeal, as Sodom in lust) as men do their plate whiles they let the baser stuff bum. In fine, he taketh Enoch and Elijah in triumphant chariots up to heaven, and after their labours and toils, setteth them in special thrones, to rest in glory; the apostles in their twelve, the rest in their orders, according to their zeal. And though he may well reckon the best of these unprofitable servants, yet such congruity (not of merits, but of favour) it pleaseth him to observe in crowning his graces, that the most zealous here are the most glorious there.

Who would not now wonder, how ever this royal virtue should have lost its grace with the world ? how ever any should admit a low thought of it ? But what ? shall all the indignity which hell can cast upon it, make it vile in our eyes ? Or rather, shall we not reason from the opposition, as Ter-tulUan did of Nero ? That rehgion which Nero so persecutes, must needs be excellent.

If zeal were not some admirable good, the devil and world would not so hate it; yet lest silence should be thought to baulk some unanswerable reasons, let us see how they labour to be mad with reason. Let Festus be the speaker for the rest, for he speaks what all the rest think; you know his mad objection, and Paul's sober answer in that place, Acts xxvi. 24, and the like, 2 Cor. v. 13; whether he be mad or sober, it is for God and you.

This text bids us be zealous and repent; the word signifies, be wise again, or return to your wits. The prodigal is said to come to himself, when he was first heated with this fire. We may well answer the world as old men do young ; you think us Christians to be mad that follow heaven so eagerly, but we know you to be mad, that run a madding so after vanity.

A Christian indeed is never right, till he seems to the world to be beside himself ; Christ's own kindred were afraid of him. The apostles are said to be fall of new wine. Acts ii.; besides, with these the world is mad, they run with Stephen like mad men, Acts vii.; Nicodemus, and such as he, never offends them.

You know also what Ahab laid to the charge of Elijah, with the apology he made for himself. This is a stale imputation in ages. Haman accused Mordecai and the Jews of it. The apostles are said to be troublers of the whole earth. In the primitive church all mutinies and contentions were laid to the martyi's. True it is, where zeal is there is opposition, and so consequently troubles. Christ sets this fire on earth, not as an author, but by accident. The thief is the author of the fray, though the true man strike never so many blows; but the Ahabs of the world trouble Israel,

then complain of Elijah. The papists will blow up the state, then father it upon the puritans. It is not for any wise man to behove the tithe of the tales and slanders which fly abroad of the zealous. Lowd men would fain strike at all goodness through their sides.

You may remember also Eliab's uuchantable censure of David, I know the pride of thine heart. So do all worldlings measure others by their own length. If they see any forwardness in the peaceablest spirit, they ascribe it either to vainglory or covetousness, the only springs that set their wheels on going ; but of this the knowcr of the heart must judge between us.

When slandering will not serve, then they fall to glaveriug, cunningly glancing at zeal, whiles they commend the golden mean wherein virtue consists. But Christians, take heed none spoil you through such philosophy, or rather sophistry; for true philosophy will tell you that the mean wherein virtue is placed is the middle betwixt two kinds, and not degi'ees. And it is but mean virtue that loves the mean in their sense.

Oh, say they, but some discretion would do well. It is true, but take withal Calvin's caveat to Melancthon, that he aflect not so the name of a moderate man, and listen to such sp'ens' songs till he lose his zeal.

I have observed that which the world miscalls discretion to eat up zeal, as that which they call policy doth wisdom. As Joab stabbed Abner under a colour of friendship, antichrist undermineth Christ by pretending to be his vicar. The fear of overdoing makes most come too short. Of the two extremities we should most fear lukewarmness. Rather let your milk boil over than be raw.

From glavering they fall to scoffing. Young saints will prove but old devils. These hot-spurs will soon run themselves out of breath. But wo say such were never right bred. Such as prove faUing stars never were aug'ht but meteors ; the other never lose hght or motion. Spu'itual motions may be violent and perpetual.

When none of these will take, they fall to right down railing. These puritans, these singular fellows, &c., mifit for all honest company. I hope the state's puritan* and the common puritan be two creatures. For with that statf the multitude beats all that are better than themselves, and lets fly at all that have any show of goodness. But with that which most call puritanism I desire to worship God. For singularity, Christ calls for it, and presseth and urgeth it. What singular thing do you ? or what odd thing do you ? Shall God's peculiar people do nothing peculiar ? The world thinks it strange we run not with them into excesses, and do as most do, that we might escape derision. Judge you which of these men shall please. I believe none shall ever please Christ till they appear odd, strange, and precise men to the common sort, and yet need not be over just neither. Let them that have tender ears stop them against the charms of the world and scorns of Michal, unless they were wiser. Let him that hath a right ear hear what Christ saith to the churches ; Be zealous.

The Fourth Part.

Yea, but by what means shall a Christian attain this fire, and maintain it when he hath gotten it ?

Say not in thine heart, AVhat Prometheus shall ascend into heaven and fetch it thence ? Thou mayest fetch it thence by thine own prayer, as did * That ia, the political puritan.— Ed.

Elias and the apostles, men of infirmities as well as thyself. Pray continually and instantly. The Lord that breathed first thy soul into thee, will also breathe on thy soul. I speak not of miraculous (which was but a type), but of ordinary inspiration. Prayer and zeal are as water and ice, mutually producing each other. When it is once come down upon thine altar, though no water can quench it, yet must it be preserved fresh by ordinary fuel, especially the priest's hps must keep it alive.

Sermons are bellows ordained for this purpose. The word read is of divine use, but doth not with that motion stir these coals.

Exnerience sheweth the best oration will not so much move as the meanest orator.

After the sparkles once by these means kindled, cherish and feed them by reading the word. Let it dwell richly in thine heart. Excite thy dul-ness by spiritual hymns. Love songs inflame not lust more than the Song of sonrfs doth zeal. Eead or sing the 116th psalm; and if thou be not zealous, every verse will check thee in thy throat. Meditation is another help, approved by Isaac's and David's practice; an art lately so taught, as I shall need only to point at the choice themes suiting and furthering this argument. I need not go far to fetch this fire. I may strike it out of every word of this epistle to Laodicea. Behold the Lord God, especially thy Lord Christ, in his glorious titles and majesty; for so he begins his visions to John, and his epistles to the churches, exciting their dull hearts. By such apparitions did he set on fire the heart of Moses in the burning bush, and inflamed Stephen, his first martyr. Answerable and proportionable to v;hich are our serious contemplations. Behold him as one that seeth thee, and Imoweth thy works, the rousing preface of all these letters. Ca3sar's eye made his soldiers prodigal of their blood. The atheist thinks God takes as much notice of him and his prayers as he doth of the humming of flies and bees; and therefore no marvel if his service be fonnal and fashionable. The faithful Christian, by faith's prospective, sees him at home, and hears him saying, Well done, thou good servant, which maketh him to work out his heart. Behold him as the beginning of creatures, especially of the new creature. Oh, what love hath he shewed thee in thy redemption ! Out of what misery into what happiness, by what a price, to what end, but that thou shouldest be zealous of good works. Behold him as the faithful witness, that witnessed himself for thee a good vv^itness, and here faithfully counsels thee to follow his pattern. Behold him as a speedy and royal rewarder of his followers. Take thyself into paradise, represent to thyself thy crown, thy throne, thy white robes. Look not on the things that are seen, but on the far most excellent weight of glory. Look upon these, and faint if thou canst.

Behold, also, he is a consuming fire, a jealous God, hating lukewarm-ness, not only destroying Sodom with fire and brimstone, and providing Tophet for his enemies, but awaking also his di'owsy servants by judgments (as Absalom Joab, by firing his corn), his Israelites by fiery serpents. "V^Tiom he loveth he chasteneth, and keepeth them in the furnace of fiery trials, till they come to their right temper. He standeth and knocketh. If nothing v/ill arouse lis, a'time will come when heaven and earth shall burn with fii'e, and Christ shall come in flaming tire, to render vengeance with fire unquenchable. We, therefore, that know the terror of that day, what manner of persons ought we to be ?

From God turn thuie eyes unto man; set before thee the pillar and cloud of fiery examples, that have led us the way into Canaan. He is but a dull

A COAI. FROM TUE ALTAR.

8S

jade that will not follow. The stories of the Scriptures, the lives of the fathers, the acts and monuments of the church, have a special virtue for this effect. The verv pictures of the fires and martyrs cannot but warm thee. If thou canst meet with any living examples, follow them, as they follow Christ, frenuent their company ; even Saul amongst the prophets wiU prophesy. No bangling hawk, but with a high flier will mend her pitch ; the poorest good companion will do thee some good. When bilas came Paul burnt in the spirit. A lesser stick may fii'e a billet. It thou findest none, let the coldness of the times heat thee, as frosts do fire. l.et every indi'niation make thee zealous, as the dunstcry ot the monks made Erasmus studious. One wav to be rich in times of dearth, is to engross a rare commodity, such as zeal is. Now, if ever ' they have destroyed thy law, it is now high time to be zealous.

Consider and emulate the children of this generation, to see how eager every Demas is for worldly promotion. How did that worthy bishop disdain to sec an harlot more curiously to adorn her body unto sin and death, than he could his soul unto life everlasting. It angered Demosthenes to see a smith earlier at his anvil than he was at his desk.

When thou hast thus heat thyself, take heed of catchmg of cold again, as many have done, and brought theu- zeal to death's door.

The fire may go out divers ways : first by subtraction of fuel; if a man forbear his accustomed meals, will not his natural heat decay? The Levites that kept God's watch in the temple, were charged expressly, morn-inct and evening, if not oftener, to look to the lights and the fire. He that shall forget (at the least) with the curfew-bell in the evening to rake up his zeal by prayer, and with the day-bell in the morning to stir up and kindle the same, if not oftener, with Daniel; I cannot conceive how he can possibly keep fire in his heart. Will God bless such as bid him not so much as good-morrow and good-even ? i -u ii.

He that shaU despise or neglect prophecy, must he not needs quench tiie Spirit ? Have I not marked glorious professors, who for some farm s sake, or other commodities, have flitted from Jerusalem to Jericho, where the situation was good, but the waters naught! and their zeal hath perished, because

vision hath failed! • n i i -tv.

Such as read the Bible bv fits upon rainy days, not eating the book witH John, but tasting onlv with the tip of the tongue; such as meditate by snatches, never chewing the cud and digesting their meat, they may happily get a smackering, for discourse and table-talk, but not enough to keep soul and Ufe together, much less for strength and vigoui-. Such as forsake the best fellowship, and wax strange to holy asscmbhes (as now the manner of many is); how can they but take cold ? Can one coal alone keep itself

clowin'^ ? ,1

Thou.^h it go not out for want of matter, yet may it be put out by sundry accidents; when it is newly kindled, it may be put out with scofls and reproaches, if Peter take not heed, and fence himself weU agamst them; but & once thoroughly gi'own, such breath will but spread and increase it.

It is possible fire may be oppressed with too much wood, and heat suflo-cated with too much noimshment; over-much prayer, readmg, and study, may be a weariness both to flesh and spirit; but it so rarely hr.ppcneth, that I need not mention it; and yet the soul hath its satiety, ihere be some such perchance over-nice men in this sense also, who have not loarnea that God will have them merciful to themselves. It is often smothered for want of vent and exercise. " Let such as use not, and express not their

zeal, brag of their good hearts ; surely they have none such, or not like to have them such. If Nicoclemus had not buried Christ by day, we might have feared his zeal had gone out, for all his coming by night.

Yet this is not so ordinary as to extinguish it by the quench-coal of sin. Gross siu every man knows wiU waste the conscience, and make shipwreck of zeal. But I say, the least known evil unrepented of, is as a thief in the candle, or an obstruction in the liver. I fear David served God but reasonably, till he published his repentance ; he that steals his meat, though poverty tempt him, yet giveth thanks but coldly; zeal and sin will soon expel the one or the other out of their subject. Can you imagine in the same roof God and Belial, the ark and Dagon ? Lastly, and most commonly, foreign heat will extract the inward, and adventitious heat consume the natural.

The sun will put out the fire; and so wiU the love of the world, the love of'the Father ; they cannot stand together in intense degrees, one cannot serve both these masters with such affection as both would have. Seldom seest thou a man make haste to be rich, and thrive in religion. Christ's message to John holds true. The poor are most forward in receiving and following the gospel; as thou lovest thy zeal, beware of resolving to be rich, lest gain prove thy godhness ; take heed of ambitious aspiring, lest courts and great places prove ill airs for zeal, whither it is as easy to go zealous as to return wise. Peter, whiles he warmed his hands, cooled his heart. Not that greatness and zeal cannot agree, but for that our wealtness many times severs them. If thou beest willing to die poor in estate, thou mayest the more easily live in grace. Smyrna, the poorest of the seven candlesticks, hath the richest price upon it.

The diligent practice of these courses will make easy the practice of this counsel, Be zealous, &c.

The Fifth Paet.

But here methinks I hear the lukewarm worldling of our times fume and chafe, and ask what needs aU this ado for zeal, as if all God's people were not zealous enough.

Such as think they are, or can be zealous enough, need no other conviction to be poor, blind, naked, wretched, and pitiful Laodiceans. Fire is ever chmbing and aspiring higher; zeal is ever aiming at that which is before ; carried toward perfection ; thinking meanly of that which is past, and already attained, condemning his unprofitable service, as Calvin in his last will; this rule tries full conceited Christians.

What would you have us to do ? We profess, keep our church, hear sermons, as Christians ought to do.

Affectionate friendship and ser^dce is not only for public show and pomp upon festival days in chambers of presence, but for domestical, ordinary, and private use ; to such holiday and church retainers, God may well say, Let us have some of this zeal at home and apart.

All affections are most passionate, without a witness. Such as whose families, closets, fields, beds, walks do testify of their worship, as well as temples and sjTiagogues, are right serA^tors. God much respects their devotions ; and they have strong proof of the power of godliness.

We would you should know, that we are such as have prayers said or read in our famihcs and household; or else we say some to ourselves at

our lying down and uprising; and more than that, say you what you will, we hold more than needs.

First, know that zeal knows no snch unmannerly courses as to slubber over a few prayers, whiles you are dressing and undressing yourselves ; as most do, half asleep half awake. Know further, that such as hold only a certain stint of daily duties, as malt-horses their pace or mill-horses their round, out of custom or form, are far from that mettle which is ever putting forward, growing from strength to strength, and instant in duties, in season, out of season ; and this says hard to lazy Christians.

May not we go too far on the right hand ?

It is true ; but hberality baulks and fears covetousness and niggardnesa more a great deal than prodigahty; so does zeal, lukewarmness, and coldness more than too much heat and forwardness ; the defect is more opposite and dangerous to some virtues than the excess.

Why, are not some, think you, too strait-laced; that dare not use their Christian liberty in some recreations; sweai* by small oaths, or lend money for reasonable use ? Hath not God left many things indifferent, wherein some shew themselves more nice than wise ?

Zeal win cut off the right hand if it cause to offend, much more to pare nails and superfluities; it consumes the strongest, dearest corruptions, much more will it singe off such hair and dross as these. If aught be praiseworthy, it embraceth such things; if any be doubtful, carrying show of evil, of ill report, it dares not meddle with them; it fears that some of these are as indifferent, as fornication was among the heathen.

There are but few such, no, not of the better sort you speak of.

Grant there be any, and zealous emulation cuUeth the highest examples. Such as mean to excel in any art, travel to find out the rarest workmen, purchase the choicest copies. He that hath true zeal, wiU strive to purge himself, as Christ is pure.

Will you have us nm before our neighbours, or live without example, or company ?

Cowards and cravens stand and look who goes first; soldiers of courage will cast lots for the onset and fore-rank, for desperate semces and single combats. Jades will not go without the way be led.

So we may soon come to trouble and danger enough.

What danger can there be for an honest, peaceable, religious forwardness ?

The slug or snail puts out its tender horns to feel for lets in the way, and pulls them in where there is no cause ; so do the fearful that shall be without; but zeal either finds no dangers or makes them none : it neither fears to do well, or to reprove ill-doers, let whoso wiU be displeased.

Some indeed care not whom they offend, they are so harsh and fiery; they can bear with nothing.

Will true Christianity allow us to bear with any sin ?

Can tin or hot iron choose but to hiss again, if cold water be cast on it ? Can a righteous soul choose but vex itself at open evil ? Such ostriches as can digest oaths, profane and filthy speeches, shew what mettle they have for the Lord of hosts; who will yet be ready enough to offer the challenge, or stab, for the least disgrace to themselves or their mistress. Phinehas had rather, if it were lawful, fight in God's quarrels than in his own.

All are not by nature of so hot dispositions, or so fiery-spirited, as others.

If there be such a dull, phlegmatic creature as hath no life or spirit in anything he goes about, or whom nothing will move; he may plead com-

voL. in. B b

plexion ; and yet grace is above nature. But the best way is, see every man compare his devotion in matters of God with his spirits and mettle in other affairs, wherein his element or delight lies. K the one equal not the other, the fault is not in nature : the oldest man hath memory enough for his gold, and the coldest constitution heat enough where it likes.

Well, our hearts may be as good as the best, though we cannot shew it.

Fu-e cannot be long smothered, it will either find a vent or go out; zeal will either find word or deed to express itself withal.

All have not the gift of utterance.

Violent afiections have made the dumb to find a tongue. If it be low water, the miU may stand; but abundance of heart will set the wheels on going. What earnest discourses will unlearned mariners make of their voyages, huntsmen of their game, &c.

All have not ability and means : many have great charges.

Love and zeal are munificent, make money their servant, not their master; wheresoever the heart is enlarged, the hand cannot be strained; where the bowels are open, the purse is not shut. Herod, for his pleasure, cares not for half his kingdom: what will not some gentlemen give for hawks and hounds ? Not only the poor woman that spent the rich ointment on Christ, the widow that gave all her substance, the converts that sold all and threw all at the feet of the apostles; but even the bounty of the superstitious papists shall rise in judgment against such as profess a rehgion, will give it good words and countenance, but be at no cost with it, and know a cheaper way to save charge withal.

All have not so much leisure to spend so much time and study about matters of rehgion; they have somewhat else to do.

There are indeed many vanities which distract and divide the mind of worldlings ; but zeal counts one thing needful, to which it makes all other vail and stand by. Is there any so good a husband of his time, that wiU not steal some hour for his pleasure; that cannot spare his God and his soul half an hour, morning and evening; that bestows not idly as much time as a sermon or two would take up in the week ? The soul, I confess, hath his satiety as well as the body; but why should we sit on thorns more at a sermon than at a play, think the Sabbaths longer than hohdays, but for want of zeal ? If thou beest not a vain and wilUng deceiver of thyself and others, deal honestly and plauily with thy soul, try thyself by these few rules ; and if thou judgest thyself to come short of them, amend and • be zealous.'

The Sixth Paet.

Which little round fire-ball coming to hand, as David's small stone, by ordinary lot, knowing the insufiiciency of mine own, I pray that God with his arm would scatter it far and wide into those wild parts of the world, without the pale of Christendom, which he so frozen and benumbed in their paganism, that they feel not the coldness of their reUgions ; as also in those regions, that being within the tropics of the church, have just so much and so httle heat, as to think they have enough, and need no more. Chiefly mine afi'ections burn mthin me for the good of mine own nation, for which I would I had but so much zeal as truly to wish myself anathema, upon condition it had heat suitable to its light. For I must bear it record, it hath knowledge, I would I could say according to zeal. But the Spirit,

knowing that wliich is spoken to all to be in effect as spoken to none, directs me what I should speak to churches, to speak to particular un^els. Now the principal in our church, under that Ai-changel of the covenant, I most willingly acknowledge to be my lord the king, as an angel of light. And why not that very angel, who by his writing hath begun to pour out tho fifth vial upon the throne of the beast, darkened his kingdom, caused them to gnaw their tongues for grief, and blaspheme for the smart of their wounds ; though as yet they will not repent of their errors ? The Lord anoint him more and more with this oil above all the princes of the earth, that fi-om his head it may run down upon our skirts ; make him shine in zeal above all other stars, to the warming and enlightening of this wholo horizon ; set him up as a standard for his people ; clothe him with zeal as ^s'ith a cloak, to recompense the fury of the adversaries, that ho may strike the Ai-amites, not tkreo but five times, till they bo consumed ; that he may put the Ammonites under the iron saws, harrows, axes, which have provoked him as much as ever they did David, 2 Sam. xii. But yet, as in the time of the Old Testament, the custody of tho fire and light was the charge of the priest, so here I obsen-e Christ to lay it upon his ministers, interpreting his rule by his practice : ' Tell the church, tell the angel of the church ;' houoming that despised ofiice with that stately style ; intimating the union between people and minister, that they should be as one. Wliat is spoken to the one, is spoken to the other; not as some, that ever make clergy and laity two members, in division and opposition ; neither yet as seme spii-its, that lay all level, but implying a property, especially in gi-ace and zeal in the ministers, whom the preacher calls the master of the assemblies ; that they should exceed as for the people as angels do men, and that he will reckon with them for the religion of the people, because cold priests mako bold sinners. Zealous Jehoiada may make Jehoash the king zealous, so long as he lives with him. We therefore, men and brethren, or rather, men and angels, upon whom it hes to keep hfe and heat in the devotion of the world, to consume the di'oss of vices and heresies, that have fallen into the sink of om" times ; we that are to make ready our people for the second coming of Christ, is the spu-it of Eli, think we, sufiicient for us ? What manner of persons ought we to be, burning in spirit, fervent in prayer, thundering ui preaching, shining inUfe and conversation ? Why is it then, my brethren (Oh, let my plainest rebukes be the fruits and signs of my best love to mine own tribe; let them not be as brcaldngs of the head, but as precious balm to those whose honour with the people I prefer to my life), why is it that some of us pray so rarely and so coldly in private (the evils of our times will not out but by fi'equent fasting and fervent prayer), in pubhc so brielly, so perfunctorily, and feebly, that we scarce have any witnesses of what we say ? Why are there yet remaining any mutes amongst us ? Why are there any tongues that dare speak against often or zealous preaching '? Doth not Paul adjure us before Him that shall judge the elect angels, that we preach instantly, in season and out of season '? Read wo the commentaries of that text, or let the practice of ancients expound it; and tell me if ever old or new interpreted that charge, of bare readuig, of quarterly, or monthly, yea, or of once on tho Sabbath, preaching only, as if that were fully sufficient, without endeavouring or desiring any more. If always often preaching be prating, what meant the practice, I say, not only of Calvin and Beza, but of Chrysostom, Basil, Ambrose, with other of tho fathers, preaching every day in the week, some of them twice in tho week, none of them so seldom, as such would bear tho world in hand ? What

bo A COAX, FROM THE ALTAK.

meant sundry ancient councils, the eleventh of Tolet in Spain, yea, even of Trent itself, to excite (be torpor of the bishops of their times, as their canons speak, enjoining fiequent preaching, calling for more than almost any man is able to perform ?

But here I may turn reproving into rejoicing, that preaching is grown in any better fashion and grace with our times, by royal and reverend, both examples and countenance: only I wish that every Archippus may fulfil his ministij, be instant and constant in preaching. Solomon, the older and wiser he grew, the more he taught the people, sharpened his goads, and fastened his nails ; whereas many amongst us are so ■vrise in their youth, as to affect the foolishness of preaching, but in their dotage ease slays the fool; when the door is oiled, it leaves creaking. They must then fall to make much of themselves, till, contrary with the prophet, they cry out, ' My fatness, my fatness, my belly, my belly!' so favouring their lungs that they will be sure never to die of David's consumption of zeal. Let such preach, say they, that want livings; and if for shame they preach at all, it must be rarely and easily for breaking of their wind (mv meaning is not to tax such whom God disenabled by wealmess of body, or such as recompense their rarity with industry, as Perkins, &c.); and yet, forsooth, these think they may justly challenge, and wear the double honour of countenance and maintenance, I marvel v/ith what right or with what face, so long as there remains express canon of Scripture bequeathing it to those that toil in word and doctrine. Neither will zeal set us on work only to preach, or to preach often, to avoid the infamy of bare readers; but it will teach us to preach painfully, and that in the evidence and demonstration, not so much of art or nature, as of the Spirit and grace, regarding only that the people know Christ and him crucified, not caring whether they know what we have read, how many quotations our memory will carry level, how roundly we can utter our mind in new-minted words, in like sounding, idle, vain, and offensive paranomasies. I blush to faU into the least touch of that kind; yet, at once to shew and reprove that childish folly, 'It is a vein of vain preaching, turning sound preaching into a sound of preaching, tickling men's ears like a tinkling cymbal, feeding them 7idv6(iasi xt ix. BBidfiaai, spoiling the plain song with descant and division.* What is this but to shew our own levity and want of true art; indeed, affecting such a dancing, piperly, and effeminate eloquence (as TuUy, Demosthenes, or any masculine orator would scorn), instead of that divine, powerful dehvery which be-cometh him that speaks the oracles of God ? If ever we mean to do any good, we must exliort and reprove with all vehemency and authority, hfting up our voice as a trumpet, as the sons of thunder, piercing their ears, witnessing, striving, and contending, according to our gift, whatsoever it be, to manifest our affections, that we may work upon the people, which all the art in the world will not teach us to do; only zeal at the heart will naturally produce it, without straining or afiecting. If God require the heart as well as the head, why should we not labour to move the affections as well as inform the judgment? There is a doctrinal, and, as some term it, a doctorly kind of preaching, which is admired of some that understand it not; of others, that could be content with the mass again, because it was gentle and had no teeth in it. And such sermons I have sometimes heard for matter void of exception, but so dehvered, as if one were acting a part, or saying a lesson by heart. It hath called to mind a song which sometimes I have met, withal excellently composed, full of sweet air, sm-ely and truly sung, but with flat and dead voices without spirit, which hath marred

the music. Of such a sermon and preacher the countrjTuan's verdict did well that said, This man may be a great scholar, but he wants beetle and wedges to hew our knotted timber withal; our green wood will not bum unless it be better blown. You shall sometimes see an excellent horse of shape and colour, having many of those marks Du Bartas describes in Cain's supposed horse, which yet, wanting mettle, hath been of little worth and less use. If there were no other preachers than these, which hold themselves the only profound and learned preachers, I muse what should become of conversion of souls, which they that covet must come with the spirit of lias, to turn the hearts of the fathers to their childi'en. I may in truth, and I hope with modesty, speak with the preacher, that in observing I have observed and have foimd that divers great clerks have had but little fruit of their ministiy; but hardly any truly zealous man of God (though of lesser gifts) but have had much comfort of labours in their own and bordering parishes, being in this likened by Gregory to the iron on the smith's anvil, sparkling round about. And if for this any bordering neighbours, whose cold labours work not the like success, shall accuse them of some kind (I know not what) of policy in bewitching the people, they may well reply, Behold our zealous affections are oui- charms, and zeal all our witchcraft ; as Latimer well answered one that accused the people of partiality for not affecting him that preached one of his printed sermons, that he had indeed his stick, but wanted his rosin, meaning his zealous manner of preaching and living, without which last all the former will do but little good, if a good ensample of life accompany not their doctrine, as lightning doth thunder. For there are some (I speak it with sorrow of heart) that seem to have fire in their preaching, but carry water in their life ; being notoriously proud, covetous, or debauched, stained with odious vices. Let us hear the sum of all. Do we love Christ more than ordinary ? Would we give proof of our treble love to him ? Let us, then, feed his flock with a treble zeal, expressed in our prayer, preaching, and living. Let us make it appear to the consciences of all, that the top of our ambition is God's glory ; and that we prefer the winning of souls to the winning of the world.

This title of angels, why may it not also be extended to magistrates, as well as that higher style of gods ? Sure I am that the scarlet robe of zeal would exceeding well become them. Jethro maketh it their prime and essential character ; God and Moses their only and sole, in the charge and commission to Joshua so oft repeated, ' Only be of good courage.' And if David were now to re-pen his psalm, I think he might alter the form of his counsel and say, ' Be zealous, ye rulers and judges of the world,' and not wise and politic; or rather, under the tenns of wisdom, he comprehends indeed the zeal we call for, the most now-a-days being Gallios, wise only for the matters of the commonwealth : not having a spark of that spirit which was in Phinohas, Daniel, and Nehemiah, Sec, for the Lord of hosts, or to his laws and commandments ; as if God had made magistrates keepers only of the second table, governors of men, and not of Christians ; guardians only of civil societies, and not of his church, and shepherds also of his flock. Are idolatries, blasphemies, profaning of Sabbaths, no sins ? Why then either have not the laws force and strength enough in them, as sometime we are answered when we complain ? or why are they not executed for the suppressing of these raging sins ? Are not all they punished with death in the Scriptures, as well as breaches of the second table ? Blood I leave to the malignant church, and admire clemency in rulers as much as any; but yet I know the profane dissoluteness of the times requires a three-

stringed whip of severity to purge our Augean stable of tlie foul abuses, whipped often with pens and tongues, but spared by them that bear the sword (a man may say, of many governors), altogether in vain for matters of religion. Are not kings of the earth charged to render double to the bloody strumpet of Kome ? Why, then, doth the hurtful pity of our times embolden and increase their numbers ? Laodicea itself, I doubt not, for matters of mine and thine, had, as their name reports, good civil justice and justicers ; but was God the nearer for it ? Doth he not threaten, for all that, to spew them out of his mouth ? Shall he not curse those that do his work neghgently, fearfully, and partially ? Our times complain of two special cankerworms of justice, which eat up zeal in magistrates. The first is covetousness, which makes men of place transgiess for a morsel of bread : the zeal of their own houses consumes the zeal of God's house. The building of gi'eat houses, keeping of great houses, and matching with great houses, raising and leaving of great houses behind them, makes them so ravenous, that they devour so much as chokes all their zeal; which would teach them to shake their laps of bribes, and scorn to accept gifts, though men would augment them for the perverting of judgment. The other, cowardice and fearfulness, which how unfit and base a quality did Nehemiah think it for a man of his place ! No better than shyness in a fore-horse, whose eyes men fence on both sides, that they may lead the way, and go without starting ; unto which zeal is answerable to magistrates, causing them only to see him that is invisible, without casting a squint eye at men ; to sing to God only of judgment and mercy, without tuning their songs to man's care ; to walk in the perfect way, without turning either to the right or left hand, for fear or favour. 0 that there were such a heart in our leaders ! how easily would our people foUow! What a spring-tide of zeal should we have, if the sun and moon would cast out a benign aspect upon them ! Doth it not flourish in all those shires and towns, where the word and sword do jointly cherish it ? In others, which are the greatest number, how doth it languish and wane awaj', and hang down the head ! Where is it in divers places of the land to be seen ? I had almost said, in my haste and heat, there is none that hath zeal, no, not one, there is no courage for the truth ; but that I remember that Elijah was checked for overshooting himself in his too short and quick computation. I hope the Lord hath his fifties amongst us, though but thin sown in comparison of the swairms of professed recusants, and church-papists, of profane atheists, key-cold worldlings, and lukewarm professors. The bodies of our many several congregations, yea, even of the better sort, whereunto have they been likened by our separated adversaries, but unto the prophet Hosea's cake, half-baked upon the hearth, having one side, that is, the outside to the world-ward, in public service, scorched a little and browned over; but the inside to God-ward, in private and family duties, no better than dough ; many of them making, indeed, some show, as the outlandish fruits that are plashed upon our walls, but, wanting heat, never come to maturity. If we should make good their resemblances, how then should we please the stomach of God ? who hath indeed brooked and borne us a long time. I doubt but wamblingly. How near were we going in '88, and in the powder treason ? Do we think he will ever digest us, in the temper we are in ? which (to confess the truth of the fashionable Christian) what is it but a state of neutrality, indifferency, or such a mediocritj^ as will just serve the time, satisfy law, or stand with reputation of neighbours ? Beyond

•which, if any step a little forward, do not the rest hunt upon the stop ? If there hap to break out a sparldo of zeal in anj' one house in a parish, is not the whole town in an uproar? as when the bells ring awke,* every man brings his bucket to the quenching of this fire. If hell be in an ale-house, who cries out of it ? and as for our Sundays, church service, which is all that God gets at our hands, how perfunctorily and fashionably is it slubbered over. How are his Sabbaths made the voider and dunghill fur all refuse business, divided between the church and the ale-house, the Maypole commonly beguiling the pulpit! What man would not spew to see God thus worshipped ? This want of devotion makes the foul-mouthed papists to spit at us ; this want of refonnation makes the queasy-stomached Brownists cast themselves out of the church; and shall God always suflfer the land to bear us ? But behold, he stands at the door and knocks, by treasons, by plagues, by the hammer of dearths, discontents, fires, inundations, especially by the word ; his locks are wet with waiting. 0, before he shake off the dust of his feet against us, and turn to some other nation more worthy, let us open the door, that he may come in and sup with us. If he loves us, he will purge us and scour us, by one chastisement or other; if he have no pleasure in us, he cannot but unbm-then his stomach of us. If all the land besides should turn the deaf ear, yet let me entreat and charge you of my flock to hear his voice, and be zealous. Since my coming amongst you, I have handled some books of the Old Testament, the Epistles to the Romans, to the Hebrews, of Saint James, Peter, and John; out of them taught the doctrine of the law, of faith, love, and good works. Now, in the choice of this epistle of Christ to Laodicea, my desire was to boil up the former to their just temper, in which work I can willingly be content to spend my strength and days, if God see it fit. I cannot be a better sacrifice than to God, and for you. If I waste myself, so you may have light and heat, what else is the end of my life ? God hath given you a name, your zeal is gone abroad ; and I hope you have many names among you. The Lord increase then* number and zeal. K but one of us this day shall open this door of his heart with Joshua, ' Let others choose, I and my house will serve the Lord' more zealously than heretofore, neither I nor he shall have lost om- labours. A lively picture casts its eye upon every one that comes near it; such is the word with whom, and with which, we have to do. Let him that is now cold, grow colder and colder ; but let him that hath an ear, hear what hath been said to the churches, and be zealous and amend.

The Lord give us not only understanding, but zeal in all things ; he baptize us with fii'e ; he breathe on us, and inspire into us the Spirit of life and power, &c. So shall we run the ways of his commandments.

I suppose ' awake,' an alarm—Ei*.

BALM FROM GILEAD TO RECOVER

CONSCIENCE.

IN A SEEMON PKEACHED AT PAUL'S CKOSS, OCTOBER 20. 1616.

TO THE EEABER.

Vouchsafe, good reader, in a word or two, to understand the occasion of bringing this Meditation to the press, that was purposed only for the pulpit: the rather for that it cometh not from the author's own hand, who would, no doubt, more exactly have polished it, could he have been persuaded to pubhsh it himself; but he, out of his modesty, as he delivered it not hke a scholar, his lesson learned without book, nor brought with him any intent to have it further made pubhc, so could not be induced, though instantly laboured both by myself and many others desiring further fruit of so learned a labour, either to pubUsh it himself, or to have any hand at all in the publishing of it.

Howbeit at length, upon extreme importunity (rather to prevent the wrong that, by imperfect copies printed, he might otherwise sustain, than to satisfy such as were earnest suitors to him for the same), he was with much ado drawn, before his departure from the city, to deUver his notes to a friend, with reference of the whole business to the judgment and discretion of others, to deal in, and dispose of, as they should deem fit; who being present at the speaking of it, with the author's notes, and his o^vn helps, hath done his endeavour to pen it as near as he could to that which by the author himself was then delivered ; which, though it be not altogether verbatim the same, yet it is hoped that there is not anything material wanting that the diligent hearer shall desire ; besides, that he shall find some things over and above, that straits of time, and default of memory, were then a means to keep back.

If any ask, what needed such importunity in this business, there being already so many sermons abroad that even printers themselves complain that the press is oppressed with them ? I answer: True it is that there are sermons indeed abroad, by some, more than enough, but yet not enough (I dare say it) such as this is, that deal so pithily, so efi'ectually, in points of practice

80 necessary, so ordinary, as this doth, wherein learning and piety, delightful manner of handling, together with profitable and useful matter, so concur, that if it please not any, they are those alone, whose profane palates can relish nothing that savoureth of grace, though never so delightful otherwise. If it profit not any, it is to bo feared they are such whose corrupt consciences are grown well-near irrecoverable, if not wholly incurable.

But I am loath to be long where the work itself is not. This little be spoken rather in way of apology for myself and such others as urged the publishing of it, than in commendation of the work, which, in the very reading of it, to any judicious, ingenious, and religious, will sufficiently commend itself. For myself, considering the general approbation given it by all sorts that heard it, together with the earnest suits of many others so instantly desiring it upon their reports, and finding, upon view and survey, the thing itself fully to answer both the reports of the one and the desires of the other, I was right willing and ready (as he speaketh in Plato), though one barren hitherto in this kind myself, to perform some midwife-Uke office to another, for the further enlargement of so generally blessed and so deservedly desired a birth. Wherein, if thou shalt chance to find any defects, consider but (I pray thee) how hard a thing it is for another (though not imskilful) to perfect a work that some curious artist hath left unfinished.

And so, wishing only that it may, through God's gracious assistance, either work into or increase in thee a good conscience, and the comfort thereof, I leave the work to thy perusal, and it to his blessing whose gift a good conscience is, and with whom, beside the present comfort of it here, is a plentiful reward reserved for it elsewhere.

Thine in Christ,

THOMAS GATACKE.

BALM FROM GILEAD TO RECOVER

CONSCIENCE.

For xi'e are assured that we have a good conscience, desiring in all things to ivalk honestly. — Heb. XIII. 18.

1 WILL nse no other preface but the short one before my text, and that not as a preface, but in way of earnest suit, ' Pray for me.' For I desire this day, entreating of a good conscience, both so myself to keep and discharge one, and so to speak home to yours, that the dead consciences may hear the voice of God in my text, and be quickened, the secure ones awakened, the troubled ones comforted, the tender confirmed, the good bettered, and all receive some light and life, that we may all depart hence in the peace of a good conscience, ' assured (with our apostle) that we have a good one, desiring in all things to walk honestly.'

This work, God witnessing to my conscience, I much desire to do; and in so doing I know I desire a worthy work, a work so highly and peculiarly needful for these times, that a sharp seer of them was often heard to pray that God would stir up some to write and preach of this argument, and another to Augustine's wish, that he might hear Paul preach, addeth his own, that the text and theme might be conscience. They both saw it gasping, drawing on, and dying, and therefore desired that some life might be put into and kept in it, before it should be utterly overwhelmed in death and darkness.

The time, indeed, was in the beginning of time, when Adam by his first sin brought death upon his soul, and caused it to reign over all the powers of it, that this faculty had most life left in it, like Job's messengers, to tell news of the great loss. This little spark was left fresh, to shew what great light had been extinguished; * but now this also, thi'ough afiected blindness and wilful malice, is so smothered and suffocated, through a daily custom of sinning, the eyes of it so pecked out, the mouth so stopped, the very heart of it so wounded and quelled, that (as the world justly complains) it is dead long since, yea, long since buried in the grave of habitual sinning, with the stone of hardness rolled upon it, that, as Mary said of Lazarus, the very name of it is grown unsavoury, odious, and, I fear, ridiculous in the ears of many. Is it not, then, high time for the Lord to work ? and for us to see it, by crying aloud (as Elias said of the dead idol) we may * Scintilla reliqua rectae rationis.—Lips.

fetch life again into it, which is the very hfo of oxir spiritual lifo, and soul of our soul.

The time is now come upon us wherein men affect and desire good names, estates, wives, houses, good clothes, good everything, but content themselves with mean and vile consciences, which ought to be the chief and only good. Wherein men love to exercise and shew, m prcachfng, in hearing, in trading, and all manner of conversing, their memory, theii* skill and cunning, and all other their good parts, as they call them, neglecting this, which is the whole of a man, and despising Paul's exercise and Paul's policy,' to have a good conscience before God and man,' Acts xxiv. IG, 33. Wherein men love preaching, indeed, and luiowledge, but not wholesome doctrine, preaching to the conscience and knowledge of themselves, which makes this pulpit and churchyard full of polemical and school divinity, while the plain, practical, and ascctical part licth untilled and unregarded, which maketh city and country full of craft and cunning, but void and destitute, not onl}' of the power, but show, of conscience. All which maketh me to choose rather, with the apostle, to speak five words to the heart than ten thousand to the ear, 1 Cor. xiv., yea, one to shew you a good conscience, than ten thousand to shew all the science in the world. Sermon you hear upon seiinon, till this manna comes out at your nostrils; but, as one said of laws, one is yet wanting for the practising of all the rest. Xow conscience is the spring of practice, and the wheel that must set all the rest on going. Is it not high time to speak to conscience, that we bo no longer hearers only, but doers also?

The time is now approaching, as we may easily discern, if wo have not drunk or slept out our eyes, as in the times of Noah, in which Christ is pouring out his vials upon the earth ; and, shortly, wherein the books shall be opened, these clasped and sealed books of our consciences, the contents whereof are now like letters written with the juice of oranges, that cannot be read till it come to that fire which shall make the secrets of all hearts legible ; yea eveiy the least fraction, even the least idle thought or speech; all which are faithfully registered in them. Is it not then high time to look into these books, to cast up these books, yea, to be well skilled and versed in them, for the sake and rectifying whereof all other good books are wi-itten, that we might be able to prove and examine om-selves, whether upon good gi-ound we can say, with our apostle, ' We are assured we have a good conscience' ? &c.

Which text, when I read and pronounce, which I do that yon may well understand, methinks I hear Paul's voice, and discera his spirit, as the maid knew Peter's voice. I hear him use the like appeal in the very like case, when the Hebrews accused him, and Ananias had smitten him on the mouth: * I have, in aU good conscience, served God to this day.'

In the self-same case, when they hired Tertullus to paint him out with his rhetoric for a pestilent fcUow, a troubler and commotioner of the whole world, he used the like provocation : ' I endeavour always to have a good conscience towards God and man.' The very like protestation against the surmises of the same Hebrews, Rom. ix. Yea, so often that, 2 Cor. i. 12, be calls this and claims it as his own glory: ' This is my boasting, a good conscience.' So that, as we discern ships by their flags, so may we Paul bv this flag of comfort and defiance, which he hangs out almost in every epistle; and if we may guess at the whole cloth by the list, this epistle, as this triumph, is his. And worthily, indeed, becomes it this chosen vessel, to glory in this choice jewel, with which the whole world, compared and

weighed in the balance, will be found as light as dross and vanity; and, without this, loss, dung, and vexation of spirit. For mine own part, when I view this triumph, and the apostle so frequently and so confidently using it, I profess myself deeply afiected therewithal. The world hath many stately sights, glorious objects, as, namely, strong towers, tall ships under Bail, armies under banners, sumptuous buildings, pleasant orchards and groves ; but when I represent to myself, w'hen I seriously conceive and con-eider Paul, riding in this triumphant chariot, advanced above the reach of men's thoughts and tongues, yea, above all sublunary changes, all the fore-mentioned are in mine eyes but stately Babels, pompous fantasies, painted pageants. Did Paul, in the fruition of this, envy Agrippa's golden chain ? No ; it was but for manner's sake Paul excepted his chain.* And he that hath this good, needs not envy, I say, not any greatness here present ; no, not Nebuchadnezzar's stalking in his magnificent galleries, built for his honour, the great Turk guarded with his Janissaries, the triple-crowned man of pride riding upon men's shoulders, and treading upon emperors' necks ; much less the rich fool in the gospel, with his goods increasing and bams enlarged, or the rich glutton, with his delicate fare and purple raiment, or any other glistering appearances of happiness which dazzle the eyes of the doting world. Let become of the rest what will, so that this be my lot and portion (which ever let be my wish above all wishes) that, through God's grace and Christ's blood, I may have a good conscience, and be assured that I have one, desiring, in all things, to walk honestly.

In which text or fwoof of Scriptm'e, which I may call Paul's triumph, I find these threads : 1. The excellent matter, a good conscience. 2. The glorious manner, a certain confidence.

The trophies are not mean and base, but the richest gift which Christ ascending on high left us to rejoice in, a good conscience.J

The boasting is not vain ; it is no fantastical opinion, no fanatical revelation, but a true persuasion, 'we are assured.' It is no audacious presumption, but a grounded assertion, built upon these four pillars, as so many characters of a good conscience: (1.) Desiring; (2.) In all things ; (3.) To walk or converse; (4.) Honestly.

Now, that we may more distinctly apprehend the contents of the text, and that which is best of all, attain the scope and subject matter thereof, which is the end of all, a good conscience (because many talk of conscience, few know it); I will first discover the nature of it, which hath been darkened by school definitions and rhetorical descriptions.

Secondly, because many slips and bad coins go for current and good ones (most brag of a good one, and fewest have it); I will shew you the goodness thereof,- wherein it consists, how it is made good, and how it is distinguished from seeming good ones, and how by four infallible characters it is certainly approved and known to be good.

Because it is a dead commodity, a grape of Canaan, the sweetness whereof few have tasted, and they that have it cannot utter it; I will shadow out the excellency of it, as my poor skill and experience wiU allow me.

Lastly, when I have taught conscience to know itself and its own worth, I will set it a work to do its office in the apphcation of the points of this and all other sermons.

Briefly collect and remark the heads.

* That is, he wished Agrippa were altogether like himself; only 'for manner's sake,' he added, ' except these bonds.'— Ed,

t 2w,aa Tiai u(pog rrig ygapjj;. J Seges glorisB.

. What conscience is.

, Wliat a good one is ; bow it may be discerned from bad ones, and known to be good.

3. How good a thing it is. And

4. What is the use, office, and eflfect of a good one.

1. For the nature of it. Things that are nearest, and most nearly concern us, are commonly fiirthest otF our knowledge and respect. As God, that is in ns and near unto us, our own faces and visages, are hardlicst known, hardliest remembered. Some fools doubt whether there be such a thing in them, yea or no. Origeu thought it a spirit or ffeuius, associated to our souls, to guide and tutor them: but this is like some of his other conceits. The carnal atheist thinks it a melancholy humour of the body, and so thinks all the checks thereof to be effects of humour. The schoolmen, somewhat acuter, thought it, some, an habit; some, an act of the soul. The latter di\-ines, a faculty of the intellectual part. But the truth is, it is no such inmate, no such guest of the soul, but an inbred faculty of it: ' a noble and divine power, planted of God in the soul, working upon itself by reflection :' or thus, ' the soul of a man recoiHng upon itself.'*

A faculty I call it, because it produceth acts, and is not got and lost as habits are, but is inseparable from the soul, immoveable from the subject, as neither acts nor habits are, which is Thomas's chief reason to prove conscience an act, quia deponi j^otest; the clean contrary whereof is true, though indeed one might think some had laid aside and lost their conscience.

A noble faculty I call it, because so admirably strange in the reciprocal working of it. The eye of man sees not itself but by the help of a looking-glass ; neither hath any creature in this world this privilege and property, besides the soul of man. I give it room, and place it in the whole soul, and thrust it not, as some have done, like a spider, into some comer of it, as if it were a part of a part; whereas the operation and power of it is circumscribed in no narrower bounds than the soul itself, and therefore the Hebrews more aptly call it ^, heart or soul, and the Grecians xaobla. 'If our heart condemn us,' (1 John iii. 20).

It hath indeed the imderstauding for the throne and palace thereof, where it is chiefly resident, whereby it exerciseth the principal functions, from whence commonly it hath its name conscience, as the emperor of Russia from Moscow, his chief city ; and look bow the soul itself is chiefly seated in the head, and there performeth the chief actions of reason, discourse, and sense, yet is in all and every part of the body, and in them performeth baser and meaner offices of nourishment and motion : right so the conscience keepeth a complete court in the whole soul, commonly called forum con-scienti(C.

In the understanding part it is a judge, determining and prescribing, absolving and condemning de jure. In the memory it is a register, a recorder, and witness, testifying de facto. In the will and afiections, a jailor and executioner, pvmishing and rewarding. Say we not in common i^se of speech, which is the emperor of words. My conscience tells me I did or did not such a thing, which is an action of the memorj'? My conscience bids me do, or forbids me to do this or this, which is but an action of the will. It smites me, it checks me, it comforts or it torments me; what are these but actions of the afiections recoiling upon the soul ? But if any list to

• Cum alia scit animus, Scientia dicitur, cum seipsum, Conscientia, &c.—Hugo et Beraardus.

contend about these subtilties, conscience tells them it hath no such custom. Conscience, falsely so called, delighteth to languish about questions not tending to edification. Let us rather tui'n our eyes to behold and wonder at the divine royalties and endowments of it, it being in man the principal part of God's image, and that by which man resembleth most the autarchy and self-sufficiency of God, which I gi-ant is proper to his infiniteness, to be content and complete within itself, but under him, and with his leave and love. This faculty makes him self-sufficient and independent of other creatures, like unto those self-moving engines which have their principle of motion within themselves. Thus Adam, when he was alone, was not yet alone and desolate, but might converse with this his conscience, as well as with a thousand companions and acquaintances.

Secondly, God hath given it more force and power to work upon men than all other agents whatsoever. It, being internal a,nd domestical, hath the advantage of all foreign and outward. Man in this respect being like to the earth, immoveable of all the winds, though at once they should blow from all the points of the compass, yet easily shaken by a vapour from within; whence it is that the approofs and reproofs of it are so powerful and terrible, the one cheering more than any cordial, the other gnawing more than any chestworm, tormenting worse than hot pincers, boiling caldi'ons, racks, strappadoes, or what other the cruelty of tyrants hath invented. If one had angels daily ascending and descending, as Jacob had, to comfort him, it were not so comfortable; or if langold or coupled to devils, no more terrible.

Thirdly, It being individual* and inseparable, there is no putting of it to flight or flying from it. Nee fugere, nee fugare potens.\ It was bred and born with us; it wiU Hve and die with us. Agues a man may shake off, tyrants and ill masters a man may fly from; but this saith (as Ruth to Naomi), ' I will go with thee whithersoever thou goest.' It hath more immediate deputation and authority from God (of whom all principalities and powers receive theirs) than angels, kings, magistrates, father, mother, or any other superior. It is only inferior to God. It is a certain middle thing between God and man, and hath the dignity of earls and nobles, that are comites region. And so Paul is bold, Romans ix., to call his conscience a co-witness with God, whence it hath the name conscience, where being no other creature with whom it can bear witness, none knowing what is in man, save God, and the spirit, or conscience, which is man; which makes Paul join them in one appeal, Romans xi. It is his spy and intelligencer in our bosoms and bedchambers; a most exact notary of whatever we think or do. It is his lieutenant, and under him the principal commander, and chief controller of man's life ; yea, every man's God, in that sense that Moses was Aaron's. It is the surest prognostication and pre-judgment of God's last judgment;]: and best almanac within a man's own breast, foretelling him what will become of him at that day.

Wonderful is the greatness and sovereignty of it. 0 men therefore, and 0 consciences, know yourselves, and in this sense, love, respect, and reverence yourselves more than all other creatures, fi'iends, and acquaintance. If they could speak, they would say to man's conscience, as the people to David, A thousand of us are not equal to thee in worth. It fares with conscience as with simple constables. Many an officer, if he knew his place, would stand more upon it, and take more upon him than he doth. The

* That is, " indivisible."— Ed. f Lyps. Pol.

X Pra}judicium extremi judicii.—Tcrtul.

husbandman were happy, if he knew his happiness. The horse \Vfero strong, if he knew his strength. Conscience, if it knew its power and authority, would not sutler itself so to bo silenced, abused, suibbcd, and kept under, being under God, the lord-controller of the soul, and supen'isor of our life.

2. Thus have we seen in part the greatness of conscience. Doth it not concern us now to sec the goodness of it ? The gi'catness of it maketh it, if good, nothing better; if bad, nothing worse; the surest friend and tho severest foe. "Whose heart burns not witliin him, to hoai- wherein that goodness consists, and how he may come by it ?

The goodness of it is the peace of it; for sturing, accusing, and galling consciences are consequents of sin, and presuppose some evil.

They, secondly, prove good unto us only by accident, and God's goodness, which maketh them as atHictions, gather gi-apes of thorns ; yea, all things work to the best of his beloved, as physicians do poisons in their confections.

And thh'dly, they do not always produce this eflect. Sometimes as sicknesses and purgations, they arc in order to health, as in tho Jews, Acts ii. Oftentimes as in Cain, Judas, Ahithophel, they destroy their owners.

Good consciences, therefore, properly to speak, are onlj^ quiet ones, excusing and comforting; but here take heed the devil, tho great impostor of our souls, put not upon oui- folly and simplicity, three sorts of quiet ones, as he doth to most: the blind, the secure, and the seared.

BUnd and ignorant consciences speak peace, or hold their peace, because they have not skill enough to accuse and find fault; they swallow many a iiy, and digest all well enough. While the scales were upon Paul's eyes, he was alive and quiet; he thought concupiscence, the sink and breeder of all sin, to bo no sin. Such consciences discern sins as we do stars in a dark night; see only the gi'eat ones of the first magnitude, whereas a bright even discovers miUions ; or as we see a few motes in dark houses, which sunlight shews to be infinite. Such think good meaning will serve the tura, that all religions will save, or a ' Lord, have mercy on us,' at the last gasp; and that which is worst of all, they love to live under blind Sir Johns, seek dark comers, say they are not book-learned, nor indeed will suffer their consciences to prove good lawyers in God's book, lest they should provo common baiTotters.* The law which nature hath engraven they tread out with sins, as men do the engravings of tombs they walk on with foul shoes; they dare not look in the glass of God's law, which makes sin abound, lest the foulness of then- souls should aflright them. A number of such sottish souls there be, whose consciences, if God opens as he did the eyes of the prophet's servant, they shall see ai-mies and legions of sins and devils in them.

In as pitiful a plight as this, are secure, sleepy, and di-owsy consciences, who see, but wiU not see, with whom sin, Satan, and their conscience is not at peace, but at truce for a time. Safe they are not, only secure they be and careless. These sleep and delight in sleeping; and two ways especially the de^^l pipes and lulls them asleep: by mirth and by business. Ease and prosperity slay some fools; wealth and hearts-ease, like Dehlah, rock them asleep on her lap; jesting and men-y tales, eating and di'inking, cast them into a spirit of slumber, and put their sin and judgment fur away, and make them say they shall never be moved. While they prosper and flourish in the world, their consciences deal as creditors with their debtors ; whiles they are in trading and doing, say nothing to them, but if once down the wind, in sickness, crosses, and poverty, then arrest upon arrest, action upon action, then come the fowls of the au* and seize upon * That is, ' blackguards.'— Ed.

the sick soul, as the ravens upon sick sheep, -write bitter things against them, and make them possess the sin of their youth. Mark this, you that dwell at ease, and swim in wealth in London. Your consciences that Ue Btill like sleepy mastiffs, in plague times and sweating sicknesses, they fly in the throat; they flatter like parasites in prosperity, and like sycophants accuse in adversity. Business also and cares of this life choke the conscience, and the voice of manifold employments drown the voice of conscience, as the drums in the sacrifices to Moloch the cry of the infants. And such consciences are quiet, not because they are at peace,' but because they are not at leisure. Mark then, you that have mills of business in your heads, whole Westminster Halls, Bourses, Exchanges, and East Indies (as I fear many of you have whilst I am speaking to your conscience), that making haste to be rich, overlay your brains wdth afi'airs, are so busy in your counting-house and books, and that upon this very day, that you never have once in a week, or year, an hour's space to confer with your poor consciences ; yea, when did you ? Let your consciences answer within you. No; but if' at a sermon you appoint them a time, and say you will, you disappoint them and say, as Agrippa* to Paul, * We wiU hear thee another time ;' and for the most part do as he did, that is, never hear them again.

All these sleepers have but a jBrenzy man's sleep. This tranquilhty wiU be sure to end in a tempest.

Yet in a more horrible case, and step nearer hell, are such as sear their consciences with a hot iron, harden them of purpose, as men do steel, by quenching the motions of them ; brand them with often sinning against their checking, fleshing tender novices with this counsel, when their consciences trouble them for anything, then to do it the rather, and so they shall hear no more of them. And so it proves, through God's just judgment giving them over to a reprobate sense, that their consciences serve them as Moses did Pharaoh, having received many repulses, and at last commanded to come no more in sight, forbare to lose any more breath unto him, but complained to God, who swept him and his host* with a final destruction.

When tutors and pedagogues are weary with pupils, they give them over to theii" parents' ftiry. These are avroxarax^iroi, and to these villains, there is no peace, saith my God, and my text. These men's consciences, if ever they awake (as seldom they do), they awake as Jonah, in fearful astonishment; and if they sleep out this life till their long sleep, yet their condemnation sleepeth not. Think of this, you monsters, scorners, and mock-gods, that forget your consciences, lest they awake and tear you in pieces. Be not, my brethren, deceived with any of these deceiving consciences, children of darkness. Though conscience be not usually mocked, yet many * deceive their own heart,' James i. 26, for want of examination. Many say, and think in their consciences, that they have good consciences, when God saith, 0 that this people had such a conscience ; and so Paul speaks in my text, as once to Agrippa, ' 0 that you were as I am,' ' assured that you have a good conscience, desiring,' &c.

What, then, is a good conscience ? That which speaks peace with God's allowance, which is a messenger of good things between God and us, that upon good grounds is in good terms with God. It Ues in the lawful peace of it, and not in integrity and freedom from sin. If my conscience accuse me not, yet am I not thereby justified ; God is greater than my conscience. If any conscience say to any man, he hath no sin, it lies in the throat, and * Qu. 'Felix?'— Ed.

is a liar. Adam only had such a paradise, such a good conscience, walking with God, without sin, witl'out fear, in the state of inuoceucy. There is but one way now to come to it; our peace is now to he had by mediation and reconciliation; being justified by Christ's blood, we have this peace. Instead of many, mark one remarkable place of Scripture for this purpose. If you ask what makes a good conscience, there is but one thing in the world will make it: ' the blood of Christ, once offered by his eternal Spirit, without fault, purgeth our consciences from dead works,* Heb. ix. 14. Yea, so admirable is the force of this blood, that it leaves no more conscience of sin withm it. This Lamb takes them away (Heb. x. 2), and carries them out of God's remembrance into the wilderness of obhvion. If any conscience rage as the sea, Christ cast into it, as Jonah, whists all the waves of it. If the law make it as Mount Sinai, covered with darkness, the gospel calms and lightens it presently. If tossed as the ship where the disciples sailed in the night, he rebukes the winds, and they are still; if the devils rend and rage in it, he casts them out presently.

The jailor came in trembhng, ready to for-do himself; ' Believe on Christ,' sent him out leaping and rejoicing. It is strange how fi-eely, effectually, and speedily he quiets all. 0 all ill consciences, hear and believe! this is the honour, royalty, and peculiar dignity of Christ's blood, to pacify and make good our consciences. I do not so much admire at all his miraculous healings of diseases, leprosies, blindness, and lameness, demoniacs of all sorts, as I do at his gracious and sudden quieting of the conscience of Mary Magdalene, of Zaccheus, of Paul; and so the like vii-tue this blood hath still, to-day and yesterday the same. Nothing else in the world hath this mtue save his blood: all other merriments have no more power to quiet conscience than holy-water and charms to conjure the devil.

I find in a French comedy one brought in as troubled in conscience for sin, and he runs up and down like a hart with an arrow in its side: for remedy he buys a pardon, nins to shrift, whips himself, goes on pilgrimages, and all this while, like an aguish man that drinks water, or leaps into a pool, his disease increascth; then falls he to seek merry company, to see if he can play away his trouble; but, like Saul's ill spirit, it re-tams with gi-eater violence, and brings seven worse with it to torment. In the end he finds Christ, or rather is found of Chi-ist, and so finds peace. And this is the good conscience wo speak of, to which being in Christ there is no condemnation, no accusation. Wouldst thou purchase a good conscience at an easier rate ? wouldst thou have it for sleeping ? "\\Tien thou hast tried all conclusions, come hither and buy salve for thy conscience -nithout money. When thou hast spent all thy time and money about what will not quiet thy mind, as alchemists smoke out all in seeking the philosopher's-stone, here is that which will do it: believe and prove, and thou and thy conscience shall be safe and quiet. This is approved, thus Paul got his. Yea, but is this all ? Is it so cheap and easy a thing ? May we now sing a requiem to our souls, lay the reins on our necks, cast care away, and do what we list ? I fear not such an objection from a true beheving conscience. They that prattle thus know not vuienium fidei et bona; conscientiic, the good natm-e of faith and a good conscience.

Let me not daub your consciences with untempered mortar. Faith, as it pacifieth, so it purifieth, conscience. Christ purgeth our consciences to serve the living God; and, after all his cm-es, bids the healed go away and walk after the Spirit, and sin no more. There are indeed a generation of libertines and hypocrites, that sen-e Chi-ist as Louis the XI. is reported

VOL. in. o c

to have served his leaden crucifix, which he used to wear in his hat; and when he had blasphemed or done any villany, he would pull it off and kiss it, and so sin over and over again: like our common swearers, that cry God mercy, and ask him leave to abuse his name again, and that wittingly and wUlingly.

These and such like let their consciences speak peace to them, as the friar in Stephan absolved a gentleman that would needs pay well, yet would not promise to amend his fault, instead of an absolution he pronounced a curse upon him in Latin, which he took for pay : ' Christ absolve thee, which I believe he will not; and bring thee to heaven, which is impossible.'

Many sentences hath the master of sentences ■'■ borrowed from Ambrose against such consciences, which I omit to rehearse; lest, as Abner's body, they hinder the passing of the people by. A good conscience stands not with a purpose of sinning; no, not with an irresolution against sin. He is a fool and a vain mocker, no true penitent, that mourns for sin past, and yet means at the same time to sin for the time to come. With which sophism the most perish at this day, with this in their mouths: ' They be-heve on Christ, and have as good a conscience as the best,' and yet walk in sin. But 0 thou vain fellow, shew me Paul's good conscience by Paul's proof, by his ' desire in all things,' &c. Is Christ able to save thee, and is he not able to sanctify thee ? Let me with TertuUian tell thee that, the promises standing true, thy faith is false; and, the gospel remaining safe, thou shalt perish.

Titus, a tradesman or lawyer here present, haply is desirous to have peace of conscience, is sorry for his oaths and fraudulent courses this week past, but knows he shall fall to the like the week coming, hates them not, and means not to strive against them, but to return to the mire ; my text saith not to him, ' Go in peace,' to such loose and licentious consciences that make Christ a bawd of sinning, and faith a cloak of hberty. I have heard that the pope hath sold a pardon for a murder past, with a dispensation annexed for the next; but Christ, my Lord and Master (as bountiful and gracious as he is), grants no such. If he forgive that which is past, he gives at least so much grace, as to deny ungodliness for the time to come. To conclude this point. Thou desirest a good conscience, without intending or conditioning: I bid thee believe in Christ, and thou hast one ; yet take this, not into the bargain, but as an after proviso. Art thou willing to have a good conscience ? and to be assured thereof ? here follow four infallible characters and marks of a good one, which I desire you to mark attentively, and by them to try your consciences thoroughly. Hitherto I have shewed how you may get one ; now how you may prove one. Here are four elements or humours ; which, well compounded and mixed, make up a perfect healthful conscience ; if any one be wanting, or fail in a just measure or proportion, conscience is accordingly defective and sick.

The first is, that which must be the first in every good action, that is, the will—(^iXovrsf); that the bent and inclination of that be set right. I would the word had been plainly translated as it is in other places, verbatim, ' will-ing.' It imphes first, that he that hath a good conscience, doth not only do well, but wills to do well, doth it voluntarily, not forcedly, or out of external and sinister motions, but from an internal principle, a sanctified and rectified wUl, which God accepts for the deed, and above the deed. Secondly, that he doth not only wish and faintly desire, which translation

♦ Lib. iv. Dist. 14.

may flatter an h}'pocritc''that liatli some sluggish lusts, and some sudden good pangs and moods, and such as for the time little differ in sickness and starts from a regenerate will; but the word notes a strong and settled resolution, a constant purpose, and such asproduccth endeavour. 'He that will be rich, pierceth himself through with many sorrows ;' where the same word is used. I grant it is carnijiciua, a rack to a good conscience, to say, it must always do well; and contrarily, it is a true gi-ound of comfort to say, that a will and purpose is sufficient testimony and approof of a good one; but then it must be meant, not every languishing and lazy flash of ever)' wisher and woulder, but of a wilier ; and this word is equal with the other two, which are good sjTionimas and glosses upon this used by Paul, Acts xxiii. 24, ' I labour,' or ' exercise myself,' and crsToX/rsu/za/,' I lay my policy,' or bend my wit and will to have a good conscience, and to servo God, &c.

It may be said of some, they would be good, but they have no will to it. There is none so prodigal or slothful but would be rich; yet we say not such will be rich, that is, set it down determining it ttltimata voluntate. There are none so wicked, but at some times would be good and leave sin ; but these dispositions breed imperfect essays and profilers, ripen not, hold not, discern not the name of will. CoiTupt flesh hath many such propensities and bubbles, and is very prodigal in momentary purposes and promises; but David saith he will keep God's commandments, * I have vowed, sworn,' &c.; whenMichal mocked, * I will yet bo more vile,' as resolute swaggerers, whose will is set and sold to sin. They sin and vnW sin, say preachers what they can. Ahab will go, cry Micaiah what he please ; so Joshua will serve God, let others do what they will. Sanctified will may be crossed, and captivated, and hindered, but yet it holds its own bent, and overcomes the law of rebellion, is predominant, and can never be forced to sin, or to will to sin, without a curb in the mouth; the more stiff and steady this will is, the better symptom of a good conscience.

Secondly, this will must extend itself to all {iv rragi), though in many thmgs our deeds fail: which extent let Paul expound with a distribution, towards God and man. In duties divine, human, of charity and piety, whatsoever is done for God's sake and conscience sake, is done equally. No man makes a conscience of one, but he that doth of all; he that delights in the breach of one commandment, hates all the rest. The rich and precious box of a good conscience, is polluted and made impure, if but one dead fly be suffered, I say not, if one fly of infirmity light in it, against the will forementioned ; but if with our will it lie, and die, and putrefy in it. "When Chi-ist purgeth Maiy's conscience, he casts out, not six, but seven devils, yea, ho leaves not one of the legion remaining, not one spot of leprosy in any one member, but saith, ' Faith hath made thee whole.' Here I see many fall short, and I pity to see so many civil men and hypocrites to come so near the kingdom of heaven and a good conscience, and yet one thing is wanting. Foolish Herod, that docst many things and stickest at one ; foolish Ananias, that spillest and losest all thy cost with a small reservation : foolish hypocrite, why takest thou pains to climb so high on the hill of piety, and yet for one step of injustice to thy neighbour, ascends not into God's mountain, though thou comcst often into God's tabernacle ? Thou civil, honest man, why givest thou alms, livest fairly with man, and forgettest the main, art so far short of this ' all things,' that thou forgettest that which should be all in all, that is, piety to God ? Universal and catholic obedience, is the best distinguishing touchstone of

truth and falsehood, of good and bad consciences. This universality must also extend to great and smaU duties. I say universality, not equality; a good conscience mainly desires to please God in the great commandments, as Christ calls them, and then in every complement, in every hoof and nail, so near as he can, yet observing a due proportion. It most of all strains at gross sins, yet swallows not gnats. It ti-embles at wounds and blood, fears faith and truth ; it abhors adultery, hates dalliance ; it pays tithe-sheaves carefully, it detains not tithe, mint, and aniseed; it says not, an inch breaks no square, and small faults must be winked at, and in this sense may weU be said to be scrupulous, because it being tender feels scruples ; only here I lay a caveat, that it be not erroneous, or ignorantly dubious and scrupulous, like the wall-eyed or bird-eyed horse, that starts upon every shadow without occasion or cause, makes conscience where God and his word makes none, makes many questions for conscience sake. Light and information is as good as tenderness, both together make an excellent conscience; and obiter for the sake of scrupulous consciences, that desire unfeignedly in all things to walk honestly, I give them these solemn charges:

First, That they study the peace of the church.

Secondly, That they study their liberties.

Thirdly, That they be humble towards God and their superiors, and wilUng to illuminate and regulate their consciences by the word, and be established in what they are to do, not admitting every fear of the contrary without ground, yet remembering Paul's rule, to follow the dictates of conscience, rather than of angel, potentate, or prelate, yea, of apostle. For, after the apostle had determined that, in the 14th to the Romans, he yet requires in the eater a plerophory, and blesseth him that doth it with consent of conscience, and makes all other sin a sin against conscience, being worse than a sin against man, yea, next to the sin aginst the Holy Ghost. An erroneous conscience holds the wolf by the ears, binds to the act, frees not from the fault. Oh! therefore labour to get a salve, and think not your own eyesight to be sharper than the eagles'. Endeavour to inform your consciences aright; and, having so done, be careful in all things to keep a good conscience, and that through the whole tenor and course of your hves, which is required in the next term of conversation.

A word that adds to the former, constancy and equahty. There are in the Ufe of man many turnings [amciT^i(pie&ai), references, and divers respects, in aU these ; at every turn to be the same man, requires the strength of a good conscience. To take a step or two well, a chUd or a drunkard may; but to walk evenly, and to turn hither and thither well, argues strength. A jade, or a broken-paced horse, may rack or strike a stroke or two right; but to maintain the thorough pace at eveiy stop and turn, to be at the command of the rider, argues mettle and goodness. This term is expressed by Paul: * I have always, or thoroughly, to this day' [c^x^^ TTiC, Tj/Mi^ag rauTTig, dia Tavrog), Acts xxiii. 1 ; and, xxiv. 16, u-rehsxo'Trov f-^uv euvsidi^Giv. That is, without tripping or stumbling, or without ofl'ence to other, &c. A weak conscience falls at every turn: godly in one company, profane in another; a good one, as a square cube, is the same which way soever you turn him. Turn him to God, to his neighbour, turn him to company, turn him alone, turn him loose to all occurrences, he holds his own, and walks honestly. For example, one day is the brief of a man's whole life, and is a little life, bounded with the night and the morning, as with birth and death : wherein a conscionable man fii-st turns

to God in prayer alone, then with his family, then to his callinfj, then to his recreation, to society, eating and drinking, and at night retunis to God and his rest; in all these walking godly, soberly, righteonsly, and is able to say trulier than the epicure at night, ' I have lived this day :' fSi^iuxa, I have walked honestly. He is a good day's-man, or journeyman, or tasker, which is an excellent mystery of well living and redemption of time, a working up our salvation in holiness and righteousness all the days of our life. He that lets slip one day's watch and work may sleep at night in a whole skin, but not in a sound conscience. Such crazy consciences have, as broken brains, their good and evil days, turbida et lucida intenalla. Conscience, as a vessel, may easily be kept pvu-e and clean if rinsed every day; but if it go longer, it gathers soil, and asks harder scouring by more than ordinaiy repentance. Daily washing will keep it pure and fair, which is the last thing which is yet wanting to perfection, such perfection as is to be found in the way; and that being added, will set on the roof and pinnacle upon this building.

KaXw;, honesthj; I could wish the translators had used some other word, because this is so disgraceful and contemptible as the world goes, though the word in its due signification is honourable, honesty in truth (as ironically as the world useth it) being only truly honourable, forcing honour from the breasts of men, which is the seat of honour, which bravery doth but beg. The word is comprehensive, and compasseth in the fathom of it as much as any of all the other adverbs in Scripture: worthily, decently, accurately, circumspectly, gravely, after the best fashion or comely, praiseworthy, lively, famously [d^iug, iu'^si'Trug, dx»il3ui;, Ce/xvSjg, hs^r,ij:,avSj;). It notes the lustre and grace of an action, which makes our conversation shine before men, and sets out God's glory. Th xaXhv, a thing that citizen and com'tier much stand upon in their actions; yea, all men now-a-days build, feast, wear apparel, not for bare necessity, but for their credit, so as they may get honesty by them. Unconscionable men slubber over their work, and think anything good enough for God, as in Malachi; and content them'selves with reasonable service, for so they translate that, Xoyixrjv "kar^siuv, Rom. xii. Whereas Paul often requires Christians should be excellent ringleaders in fair works (xaXuv hyuiv moigat^i), and provide honest or honom-able things before men, and to possess their vessels, much more their consciences, in honour, that they may be fit temples for the Holy Ghost. As Theodoret most divinely upon Exodus, look how the temple was adorned with the finest gold, silver, silk, purple, scarlet, jewels, &c, so must thy conscience, of which temples this was but a t\-pe.

There is in every duty, besides the deed done, an honourable decorum annexed, as in hearing, to hear swiftly ; in preaching, to labour and to bo instant in season, &c.; in giving alms, to do it cheerfully; in trading, to \>e at a word; in pajonents and promises, to keep day and touch : and thus it becomes a Christian to exceed the pharisee and the civil man, or else it is not for his and his Master's honour.

David did excellently when ho would not oSer a sacrifice without cost; the woman that spent her costly spikenard on Christ, the smell whereof perfumed all the house, and holds the scent to this day; the widow that gave all her substance. Our honourable personages, how mean are they in allowances to ministers, in alms to the poor, or any expenses that respect God and their souls! A good conscience, for the sake of this honesty, avoids and flies, not only scandalous blemishes and stains, but all the least blushes and appearances of evil, all brackish-tasted things, his

stomach goes against them. If lie knew never so well cards, dice, usury, non-residency, plui'ality to be never so lawful, yet because they stand not with this honour, he wiU none of them. He asks not what he may do with a safe conscience, but with an excellent one ; not what is lawful and expedient, but honoui-able.

Thus have we seen the apostle riding in this triumphant chariot, drawn, as it were, with these four horses, the four evidences of conscience.

The first proves it good ; the second, true ; the third, strong; the fourth, excellent.

He that hath * the wiU,' hath the seeds of religion, and is a Christian, and no atheist.

He that wiUeth ' in all things' is a sound Christian, and no hypocrite.

He that ' converseth or walketh,' is a gi'own Christian, no babe or weakling.

He that walks ' honourably,' is an excellent Christian, no ordinary one.

He that hath ' aU these,' may well say and glory with the apostle's confidence, that he is assured.

He that hath them not, as most have them not, may well conclude. We are assured that our consciences are evil and impure, willing to sin, and walk after the flesh.

The word (TJcrE/c/Aa/)* is Paul's word, and yet he speaks it in the plural number by way of syllepsis, changing the number, because he would have it the word of every Chi'istian. orgTs/ff/xa/ is a word of as good certainty as oida, it seconds and binds it as the better word, Kom. xiv., ' I know and am assured.' Of it, as of the root, springs Tr/g/s, for all BeUarmine would elevate it. It imphes a grounded persuasion, not fi-om inspiration or revelation, but from arguments and experience. Faith is the subsistence and evidence (i/woVrac/g, iXiyy^og) ; and the persuasion or assm-ance of a Chi-istian is as firm as is any wordling's for his estate; yea, a thousand times surer. You rich men think yom-selves sure of estates here upon earth, but we Christians know om-selves sure of heaven. Conscience knows itself, as well as science any principle, or sense any object. Without which certainty. Christians were, of all men, most miserable. Popeiy and nature, and the old leaven of Pelagius, newly worse som-ed by Anninius, never having had experience of this plerophory, serve Christians, when they boast of this their confidence, as Ananias did Paul, strike them on the face with the term of pride and presumption, yea, stick not to give them the lie; but such betray themselves with their own noise. I would ask them but Paul's question, ' Do not you know ?' If they answer, as usually they do, No, nor they think any man living on earth, I would pray them to mark what follows : ' Except you be reprobate,' refuse, or rejectanii, as yet in the state of reprobation, for aught they know.

Indeed, it becomes the strumpet and adulteress to doubt of her husband, and not to call him ishi, Hosea ii.; but let him mark (saith Bernard) the spouse's language, ' My beloved is mine, and I am his.' See (saith he) what a good conscience dares do. Hahet ecclesia spiritualessiios, quijiduci-aliter aijunt cum Cliristo: ' The church hath her spiritual ones that rely boldly on Christ,' or ' confidently;' the very term that BeUarmine excepts against. And, id audet umis, quod aiidet universitas; ego jndvis et cinis, &c. Yea, every particular person dares do as much as the Catholic Church; I that am dust and ashes, dare apply this to myself. And Thompson upon that text, ' These things (saith he) are not written, for I know not what * Qu. '7ri'joi/Mi6a ? crsTrs/fffca/ is not Paul's word, neither is it plural.—En.

aiiy notions or ideas, but for mo and thee.'* "Without which, who would be a Christian ? A man's conscience is deep and deceitful; but the spirit of man, especially helped by the Spirit of God, and upon examination and trial, may and doth know as well (saith Augustine), his charity wherewith he loves, as his brother whom he loves; and if his charit}', then his faith.

Three seines I find in the end of John's epistle. The major, or proposition, is God's word, ' The believer is saved.' The minor is assumed by God's Spirit and the conscience, two sufficient witnesses, fortified and assisted by many premises, by the compass within, the landmarks without faith, and the fruits of faith. ' Dost thou believe ?' saith Christ; ' I be-heve,' saith the man. And this is the restipulation of a good conscience in baptism, and in every ti'ue believer. Credis? Credo was the ancient form, which answer all waverers must reverse and innovate. Latitudes of assurance I grant in babes and old men. David knew, when he cnme to Hebron, that God meant to establish the kingdom to him and his, which he knew before, but now with a confirmed knowledge. The balances of the scale shake and tremble at the first; after the weight is in a while, it settles and rests, and so our souls. And even this certainty is of the nature of all precious faith, though experienced faith incrcaseth it. It is this confidence that makes a good conscience ; this valour makes the value of it invaluable and unutterable.

3. Look upon my text, and see how valiantly, by the right and interest of it, Paul first challengeth and commands prayers, even at the hands of the Jews. ^Vho waters a dry stake -with any heart ? WTiat comfort hath Peter to pray for Simon Magus in the gall of bitterness ? But with what hope of audience might he pray for Cornelius, and such as he was ? So John for Gains and the elect lady, walking in the truth; not so for Diotrephes. Secondly, see how he begs, not their good opinion and good words of him, though he knew they had strange sunnises and suggestions of him from the false apostles, to be a veiy Proteus and Fohjpus, the grand cheater of the world ; but instead of apologies and captation of good will, he relies to this fort, passeth not for man's da}^; he is happy enough without them; he carries his comforter in his bosom and breast, and hath a self-sutficiency. A dependent and beholden happiness is half a miseiy, like mills that cannot grind without wind or water. Saul cannot be merry without a fiddler; Ahab without Naboth's vineyard ; Haman without Mor-decai's courtesy. A good conscience without music, or money, or honour, is happy and meny alone, and is hke the late engine of the pei-petual motion.

As rich men stand upon teiTns, I can live by you and without you; so saith a good conscience to the world.

It lays ckiim not only to the prayers and communion of saints, but to the attendance of angels. As Luther is said to have said, they are cooks and butlers to this continual feast; they ascend and descend to them with messages from heaven. Christ, as Aliasuerus with Esther, delights to sup with such. The Holy Ghost takes up in them his abode and temple. See in the Canticles how Christ is enamoured with the beauty and fiimiliarity of his spouse, and they often mutually invite one another to walks and feasts.

Thirdly, which is more, in the fail of all other comforts; yea, in despite of the greatest discomforts and disgraces that can be, in the greatest storms and stress, in the foulest weather, this ship reigns and rides at anchor, as * Hsec non sunt scripta pro idseis nescio quibus, sed pro me et te.

in a harbour and lee, hangs out the flag of comfort and defiance. Let the Jews think and speak what they will, it stu's not Paul; he soars like an eagle, not respecting the chitting of sparrows ; is above the scourges and razors of tongues.

I am much taken up with admiration, when I read Acts xxvii. How Paul in the angry Adriatical Sea, at midnight, when the tempestuous Euroclydon blew, after fourteen days' want of meat and light, when the mariners despaired, how courageous he was; but I wonder as much and more, to see his conscience pass with topsail and banners displayed, through the sea and waves of good report and bad report, to seehimsiugingand praying at midnight in the dungeon, all manacled and fettered, in a wounded skin, but whole and merry conscience.

Censures and rumom's the world is full of; who escapes ? Not Paul himself; yet is above them, and gives a secret item to all such as censm-e him, that they wronged him in judging a good conscience. The fashion is, to judge and censure all com'ses we reach not, or favom- not; and so we smite many a good conscience. In this respect what need have we all of good consciences, seeing tongues spare none!

There be three days especially, the day of sickness, of death, of judgment, in which comfort is worth a world, and then all worldly comforts and comforters, like runaway sei'vants and dranken serving-men, are to seek when one hath most use and need of them, as Job complaineth of the brooks of Teman in the drought of summer ; which makes the triumph of the wicked (Job xx.) momentary, and as a night vision, whenas the prophet said, ' One di-eams of bread, and wakes hungry.' In these times you shall see the meriy and jolly worldling hang the head like a buh'ush, and the ruffian's brags lag like a starched ruff in a storm. How do such droop, even in old age, and say. The days are come, wherein there is no pleasure! The storm comes after the rain; that which is worst, an ill conscience, like a bloodhound, hunts dry-foot, and brings the scent of sins of his youth; whereas the conscience of a well-passed life is the staif of age, pabulum senile, better than all the sack and sugars, and such pitiful comforters. When the stomach fails, and the grinders wax few, and appetite ceaseth, this is a continual feast. In the decay of sleep this is a down pillow. In all our tribulation, this Simon helps us to bear our crosses. In all our evil days it is at hand. It sustains the infii-mities of the body. When princes sat in council against David, this was his Jonathan to solace him. When the lion roars, the righteous is bold as the lion, and fears not what man can do unto him.

But if once death begin to look us in the face, how doth Nabal die Hke a stone! How do Ahithophel and Judas die the death of cowardly harts and hares, pursued with the full cry of their sins, that makes them dead in the nest before they die ! Then a kingdom for a good conscience ! Then send (as in the sweating sickness and the plague) for Mr Minister, but alas ! he is come ; he can but speak to the ear, and all in vain, unless God open the conscience to hear and be quiet, to hear and embrace comfort. But when speech fails, and aU thy senses shut up their doors and windows, then who or what can avail but a good conscience ? When thy wife and thy friends do augment thy grief with parting, and loath to depart, as Paul's friends broke his heart with weeping, then this only and alone dies, or rather Uves with thee, and seeing land approaching, bids thee be of good comfort. More cheerfully have I seen it make some die than others wed.

All the martyrs, from Stephen the proto-martyr, down to the last that Buffered, are clouds of witnesses; it hath enabled them to embrace their

stakes, clap their hands, leap, as Dr Taylor did, within two stiles of the stake, or (as he said) of his home and Father's house.

Lastly, at the last day, and after the last day, when all these shadows shall fly away, this substance shall abide. A good wife is a good thing, but Sarah must part with Abraham; and these relations shall cease in heaven ; but a good conscience, attended with good works, shall follow, and the bettor it hath been here, the better in degi'ce it shall be there, the wider entrance and entertainment it shall find there. Wlien all books shall perish, and heaven melt like a parchment scroll, this book shall be of use ; when all devils and damned shall tremble, and wish the hills to cover them, this shall lift up thy head, for thy redemption approacheth; when neither fi-iends nor a full purse shall plead, nor the wicked stand upright in judgment, then, then, well-fare a good conscience; then shall conscience have its mouth opened, tongue untied, and God will bid it speak. Happy he then that hath an excusing one, miserable he that hath it an accusing adversary.

Yet still farther : faith and hope are excellent things here in this valley; these shall cease, but conscience abides. A good one was a petty heaven upon earth, a Mount Tabor, a glimpse of glory here ; a bad one was a hell, a purgatory, or a limbo at the least, tasting of the flashes and smoke of hell; but hereafter how intolerable shall be the horror of the one, and how inconceivable the joys of the otlier. Without this woim that dies not, hell should not be hell ; without this continual feast, heaven should not be heaven. Next the happy vision of God shall be the company of a good conscience, and next to that the society of saints and angels.

4. But, 0 Lord, who believes our report, or to whom is the benefit and excellency of this creature of thine revealed? 0 Lord, to whom shall we speak and apply what hath been said? You, the sons of men, have lost youi" hearing; chann we never so wisely, thunder we never so earnestly, you despise us ministers. You think we come hither to play our prizes, to speak out of form and not of conscience, or to speak out of choler and passion.

Besides, if you would hear us, we are strangers to your secrets, to your hearts and ways. We are confined to our cells and studies, and are not acquainted with the tithe of the world's villanies; besides, when the hour-glass is out we can say no more to you, and perhaps shall never see you again. But your consciences know you, though happily you be strangers to them; they compass your paths, your lying down, and accustomed ways.

I will therefore turn my speech (as the prophet to the earth and heaven) to your consciences. Hearken, 0 consciences! hear the word of the Lord. I call you to record this day, that it is your oflice to preach over our semions again, or else all our sermons and labours are lost. Y''ou are the cuds of the soul, to chew over again. Against your reproofs, and against your secret and faithful admonitions, what exception can any take ? Your balm is precious; your smitings break not the head, nor bring any disgrace. God hath given you a faculty to work wonders in private and solitude. Follow them home, therefore, cry aloud in their ears and bosoms, and apply what hath now and at other times been dehvered.

Conscience, if the house and owner where thou dwellest be a son of peace, let thy peace and th}' Master's peace abide and rest on him; that peace which the world never knows, nor can give, nor take away. Be thou propitious and benign, speak good things, cherish the least sparks and smoke of grace; if thou findest desii'e in truth, and in all things, bid them not fear and doubt of their election and caUing. With those that desire to

walk honestly, walk tliou comfortably. Handle the tender and fearful gently and sweetly; be not rough and rigorous to them. Bind up the broken-hearted. Say unto them, Why art thou so disquieted and sad? When thou seest them melancholy for losses and crosses, say unto them in cheer, as Elkanah to Hannah, 'What dost thou want? Am not I a thousand friends, wives, and children unto thee ?'

Clap them on the back, hearten them in well-doing, spur them on to walk forward; yea, wind them up to the highest pitch of excellency, and then applaud them. Delight in the excellent of the earth. Be a light to the blind and scrupulous. Be a goad in the sides of the dull ones.

Be an alarm and trumpet of judgment to the sleepers and dreamers. But as for the hypocrite, gall him and prick him at'the heart. Let him well know that thou art God's spy in his bosom, a secret intelligencer, and wilt be faithful to God.

Bid the hypocrite walk ' in all things.' Bid the civil add piety to charity.

Bid the wavering, inconstant, and licentious ' walk constantly.' Bid the lukewarm and common Protestant for shame amend, be zealous, and ' walk honestly.'

But with the sons of Belial, the profane scorners, walk frowardly with them, haunt and molest them, give them no rest tiU they repent, be the gaU of bitterness unto them. When they are swilling and drinking, serve them as Absalom's servants did Amnon, stab him at the heart. Yet remember, so long as there is any hope, that thine office is to be a pedagogue to Christ, to wound and kill, only to the end they may live in Christ, not so much to gaster and affright as to lead to him; and, to that purpose, to be instant in season and out of season, that they may believe and repent. But if they refuse to hear, and sin against thee, and the Holy Ghost also, then shake off the dust of thy feet, and either fall to tonnent them before their time, and drive them to despair; or if thou give them ease here, tell them thou wilt fly in their throat at the day of hearing, when thou shalt and must speak, and they shall and must hear.

Conscience, thou hast commission to go into princes' chambers and council tables; be a faithful man of their counsel. Oh, that they would in all courts of Christendom set policy beneath thee, and make thee president of their councils, and hear thy voice, and not croaking Jesuits, sycophants, and liars. Thou mayest speak to them, subjects must pray for them, and be subject, for thy sake, to honour and obey them in the Lord.

Charge the courtiers not to trust in uncertain favours of princes, but to be trusty and faithful, as Nehemiah, Daniel, Joseph; whose histories pray them to read, imitate, and believe above Machiavelli's oracles.

Tell the foxes and politicians, that make the inain the by, and the by the main, that an iU conscience hanged Ahithophel, overthrew Haman, Shebna, &c. Tell them it is the best policy, and Solomon's, who knew the best, to get and keep thy favour; to exalt thee, and thou shalt exalt them, be a shield to them, and make them as bold as the lion in the day of trouble, not fearing the envy of all the beasts of the forest, no, nor the roaring of the lion, in righteous causes.

Conscience, thou art the judge of judges, and shalt one day judge them; in the meanwhile, if they fear neither God nor man, be as the importunate widow, and urge them to do justice. Oh ! that thou sattest highest in all com-ts, especially in such com-ts as are of thy jurisdiction, and receive theii:.

denomination from theo, suffer not thyself to bo exiled, make Felix tremble, discourse of judgment to them.

To the just judges, bid them please God and thee, and fear no other fear; ' assure them, for whatever they do of partiality or popuhirity, thou wilt leave them in the lurch ; but what upon thy suit and command, thou wilt bear them out in it, and bo their exceeding gi'cat reward.

If thou meetest in those courts and findest any such pleaders as are of thine acquaintance and followers, be their fee and their promoter, tell them if they durst trust thee, and leave Sunday works, bribing on both sides, selling of silence, pleading in ill causes, and making the law a nose of wax, if they durst plead all and only rightful causes, thou hast riches in one hand, and honour in the other, to bestow on them.

As for the tribe of Levi, there maycst thou be a little bolder, as being men of God, and men of conscience, by profession. Be earnest with them to add con to their science, as a number to cyphers, that wiU make it something worth. Desire them to preach, not for filthy lucre or vainglory, but for thy sake; wish them to keep thee pure, and in thee to keep the mystery of faith ; assure them thou ai*t the only ship and cabinet of orthodoxal faith, of which, if they make shipwTcck by laziness and covetousness, they shall be given over to popery and Arminianism, and lose the faith, and then wTite books of the apostasy, and intcrcision of faith, and a good conscience, which they never were acquainted withal, nor some di'imkards of them ever BO much as seemed to have.

And whereas thou Icnowest that many of all sorts are discouraged with the taxation and slanders; some that confer, some that are fearful and doubtful, if they do it to the Lord and thee (as who knows but God ?) bid the world as Paul doth here, turn censuring into praying; and, if they will not, let them, as thej' preach thee, so regard thee in all godly simplicit}', i^ itXixBi/siag ■/.ani/u'xiov rS 0£s, and expect their reward at the hand of the great Shepherd.

For the city get thou into the high places, into the pulpits, into the entries and gates of the city; cry aloud and utter thy words in the streets. Oh ! that thou wcrt free of it, and hadst freedom of speech and audience in all their com-ts and companies; and that, for thy sake, they would make and keep wholesome constitutions for the Sabbath, and orderly keeping of it, and see that well executed and observed, which is the nurse of all piety and conscience.

Charge them that are rich citizens, and in their thousands, that they lay no weak foundation, no three-halfpemiy foundation, but be bountiful to pious uses, to the poor, and to the ministry of the city, that they take away the scandal of the times, and upbraiding of the Romish Peninnah against the Hannah of our times. Let the hospital, widows, and oqihans, taste of their bounty; with such sacrifices (if they come from faith and a good conscience) God is pleased. Bid them not tnist in the shadow of silver and gold, which will wither as Jonah's gourd, but in thy shelter. Go home with them this day, I invite thee to their table. If I had liberty (as they Bay it is a courtesy for the preacher to invito a guest). Conscience, thou shouldst be my guest. Defer not till to-morrow, lest business hinder thee. This day reckon and walk with them, and talk with them. Bid them lay aside all reckoning books and reckon with thee, and often reckoning will make you friends.

Be at their elbows when they nse false weights and balances, and give them privy nips; let the mutual profit of buyer and seller be the rule of

buying and selling, and not the gain of the one of them alone. Assure them that are hoarders by fraud, that they hatch as the hen the partridge's egg, that hath wings and will fly away; and that they heap up wrath against the day of wrath, and are in the mean time self-condemned; whereas thou wouldst make them rich and add no sorrow, nor gravelly grit in their mouth, but such gain as wiU stand with content and self-sufficiency.

If thou meetest with Simonaical patrons, tell them, they and their money shall perish, for selling thee and the souls of the people.

I have not, as Ezeluel, a map of the city, but thou knowest all the lurking dens, stews, and infinite books.* I send thee to preach and cry unto them.

Eoar and thunder in the ears of the roaring boys, of all the swaggering crew, and tell them they must for all these come to judgment.

To the fashion-mongers, both the statelier sort and the light-headed, yellow-banded fools: tell the one, that the richest lining and inside is a good conscience; and for the other, if thou wilt vouchsafe, tell them, that plain apparel and a good conscience wiU do them more honour than all these apes' toys.

As for the players, and jesters, and rhjrmers, and all that rabblement, tell them, thou wilt one day be in earnest with them, and though thou suffer them to personate thee upon their stages, and shew their wit, and break their jests on thee now, thou wilt owe it them, till they come upon the great stage, before God and all the world. Where my sides, memory, and knowledge fail, add, enlarge, and apply. Print it in the hearts of as many as thou canst, and the Lord grant thee grace and audience in their ears, that they may suffer the words of exhortation ; and so I end with the prayer after my text, which is like a rich garment, that hath facing, guards, and selvage of its own. ' The God of peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you perfect in all good works, to do his will,' &c.

Thou, 0 Lord, that hast wonderfully planted and formed our consciences within us ; that only knowest and searchest our consciences; that hast thy chair in the heavens, and only art able to teach them and purify them; thou which woundedst and healedst three thousand at one sermon; whose hand is not shortened; stretch out thine arm, and do the Hke in these latter times.

Forgive the sins against thee and our consciences, and the frequent checks of it and thy Spirit.

Overthrow the man of sin, that tyrant and usurper of conscience.

Mollify and enlighten the obstinate consciences of the Jews, Turks, and pagans.

Illuminate and sanctify all Christian princes, especially our sovereign, and fill the royal treasure of his conscience full of excellent comfort; and that he may as much excel in conscience all other kings of the earth, as he doth in science, without all comparison.

Comfort the afflicted, direct the doubtful and scrupulous, and remove all snares and scandals of weak consciences, which thou hast not planted, and which thou knowest are not for the peace of thy Sion.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God our Father, and the comfortable fellowship of the Holy Ghost, and the peace of a good conscience, be with you all, now and ever! Amen.

Qu. ' Nooks ?'— Ed.

JETHRO'S JUSTICE OF PEACE.

A SERMON PREACHED AT A GENERAL ASSIZES, HELD AT BURT ST EDMUND'S, FOR THE COUNTY OF SUFFOLK.

TO THE EIGHT HONOURABLE

SIB FKANCIS BACON, KNIGHT,

LORD CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND, ETC.

When we see one go or do amiss, though his feet or hands be the next actors and instruments of his error, yet we say not, Are you lame ? but, Have you no eyes ? or, Can you not see ? ^Miatever swervings or stumbUngs any part of the body politic makes, the blame lights not upon the gentry or commonalty, the immediate delinquents, but on the principal lights in magistracy or ministry, which, being as guardians and tutors of the rest, should either prevent or reform their aberrations. And herein miserable is the condition of these two optic pieces, that they are more subject, and that to more distempers than other inferior parts; yet herein more, that, being hurt, they are more impatient of cm-e, not only of searching acrimonious waters (which yet oft are needful), but shy of the most soft and lawny touches ; but most of all in this, that being once extinct, they leave a void darkness to the whole body, exposing it to the pits of destruction. As exceeding gi-eat, on the other hand, is the happiness, honour, and use of them, if clear and single. For this our national body, it will httle boot either to applaud the one, or to bewail the other ; I rather wish and look about me for some eye-salve, which may help to descry and redress, if anything be amiss. And behold here (Right Honoui'able) a confection promising something thereto. It was prescribed first by Jethro, whom Moses calls the eyes of Israel, Num. x. 31 ; and newly compounded by an oculist, of whom as I may not, so I need not, say anjlhing at all. Next under the sacred fountain of light (the light of our Israel), I worthily

account your Lordsliip most sufficient in law to accept, to make use, to judge, to patronise it. The subject of the book is the principal object of your office, to elect, direct, and correct inferior magistracy. To which purposes, nature, literature, and grace have enabled you, that if you should fail the world's expectation, they will hardly trust any other in haste. Many in rising have followed the stiiTup, pampered and jetting honour not standing the ground, but once seated have done renownedly. But your. Lordship had never any other graces than your birth and desert, to which hereditary dignity hath so gently tendered itself, that you have not let fall your name of religion in getting up. Therefore, now you are in the top of honour, all that know you look you will be exactly honourable. For my part, bounden to your lordship for a favom- formerly received, greater than your honour knows of, or I can express, I shall leave Jethro to be your monitor, and myself remain ever an humble suitor to God, who hath made you a judge of conscience, that he would make you continue a con-scionable judge, improving your place and abilities to the best advantage belonging to it, the fui'therance of your reckoning at the last day.

Your honour's daily beadsman,

NATH. WAED.

JETHROS JUSTICE OF PEACE.

Moreover, thou shalt provide out of all the people able men, such as fear God, men of truth, hating covetoiisness, and ]}lace such over them, to he nders of thousands, and aiders of hundreds, rulers of fifties, and rulers of tens. And let them judge the people at all seasons: and it shall be, that everg great matter theg shall bring unto thee, but everg small matter theg shall judge: so shall it be easier for thyself, and theg shall bear the burden with thee. If thou do this thing, and God command thee so, tJien thou shalt be able to endure, and all this peojile shall also go to their place in peace. — Exodus XVni. 21, 22, 23

If Jethro were, as the fashion of those times and the nature of his style will bear, and (as some conceit) both prince and priest, =!= then was he, beyond all exception, every way qualified for skill, as a judicious divine, and for experience as an aged governor, to give direction in matters of magistracy, and to cast Moses a mould for a polity in Israel. Sure I am, a godly and religious man he was, for he begins with prayer, and ends with sacrifice. And such as himself was his advice, sage and holy. And howsoever it passed from him at the first under God's correction, yet afterward allowed by God, and practised by Moses, becomes, of good policy, sound divinity; of private counsel, a general oracle; ruling for the substance of it all ages and persons.

Venerable it is for the very antiquity of it. What price do men set upon old copies, coins, and statues ? \Vho passeth by a cr}'stal fountain, bearing some ancient name or date, and tastes not of it, though no thirst provoke him ?t Such is this, the clear head-spring of all ensuing brooks in Scriptui'e and other writers concerning magistracy. All those texts (which I wish were set as a frontlet between the eyes, and as a seal upon the hearts of all in authority), Jehoshaphat's charge, 2 Chron. xix. 5, Job's character, chap, xxix, David's vow, Ps. ci., the scattered parables of Solomon, and passages of the prophets, chiefly that round and smart one, Isa. xxxiii. 14, are they not all branches of this root ? In which respect it must needs be of sovereign use for the discovering and reforming of whatsoever error time hath soiled government withal. How are defaced copies and disfigured

* Cohen.

t Tsuj caf/ovra; y.at firj di-^uiffiv ifiXxovrai u^veu^ai row rrorov. Ignat. ad Marian. Cassub.

pictures better amended than by reducing them to their original ? If the pipe fail, go we not to the head ?

Here is the archetype or first draught of magistracy, worthy in this re--gard, chosen by judicious Bucer to press upon Edward the Sixth, for the purgation of his offices and laws from the dross and filth contracted under the Romish confusion, which considering, that worthy Josiah of ours took in such good part, and practised with such good success. Yea, Moses himself, learned in all good literature, trained up in court, the greatest lawgiver that ever was, and father of all lawgivers, of the thrice great Hermes, Lycurgus, Solon, Plato, Justinian, and the rest, yea, God's familiar favourite, faithful in his house, known by name and face, honoured with miraculous power, &c., and that at the hands of one (age and fatherhood excepted) his inferior; I trust that none wiU dare to reject or slight it ofi", remembering that divinity, as the mistress, taketh upon her to direct her handmaid, and that the Scripture is the best man of counsel for the greatest statesman in the world, this little portion thereof containing in it more than all Lep-sius's Bee-hive, or Machiavelli's Spider-iveb. All which will best appear by the opening of this rich cabinet, and viewing the several jewels in it, which are these—•

1. It first gives order for the care and circumspection in the choice. ' Provide.'

2. Secondly, it directs this choice by four essential characters of magis-strates :—(1.) Men of abiUty. (2.) Fearing God. (3.) Men of truth. (4.) Hating covetousness.

3. Thirdly, it applies these four to magistrates of all degrees, in an exact distribution of them, by way of gradation, descending step by step, from the hif^hest to the lowest. ' And place such over them to be rulers :' (1) of thousands ; (2) of hundreds ; (3) of fifties ; (4) of tens.

4. Fourthly, it prescribes to the magistrates, thus qualified and chosen, their offices, viz., to judge the people in the smaller causes, &c., and their assiduity and industry therein. ' And let them judge the people at all sea-Bons, &c. And it shall be that they shall bring every great matter to thee, but every small matter they shall jndge.'

5. Lastly, it propounds the blessed fruit and emolument that will necessarily ensue thereupon. First, to Moses himself, ' So shall it be easier for thyself, and they shall bear the burden with thee, and thou shalt be able to endure.' Secondly, to the people, ' And all this people shall go to their place in peace.'

The First Part.

Techezeh, ' provide,' or look out. A word implying all exactness and curiosity incident to elections, as inspection, circumspection, inquisition, suspicion, information, deliberation, coming of Chozah, to see or contemplate, whence the prophets were called Chosi, seers. It is in a manner translated by a word of the like force, in a business of the like nature. Acts vi. 5, £'Tisx.i-^as6s, ' survey' the whole body of the people, and choose the best you can call out. It were somewhat strict and strange to say that prayer and fasting must be used. And yet this I find practised in such cases, ' Let the Lord God of the spirits of all flesh set a man over this con-.gregation,' Acts i. and Num. xxvii. 16. Yea, Jethro himself sanctified this his advice with prayer, ' God be with thee,' ver. 19. And good reason He should be called to counsel whose the judgment is, and whose providence

is always very special in those elections, whether sought or no. If God supervise not, Samuel the seer sluill take seven wrong before one right, 1 Sam. xvi. Some men's faults are palpable, and go before election; some are cunningly concealed, and break not out till after. First, therefore, look up to God, and then amongst the people. Have thine eyes in thy head, all the care that may be will be little enough. Say not there are no sutHcient persons, nor yd think every one that thinks himself so, or commonly goes for such, is sufficient. Seek out such, and such may bo found. Look among the olives, vines, and fig-trees. Such trees must be climbed. Brambles will hiy hold on the sleeve for preferment. Ne sit qui ambit. Let him never speed that sues. Lay hands on none rashly. They that are fit and able must and will be sought to, yea, hauled out of their ease and privacy into tlie light of emplo\Tnent, the charge and danger whereof they weighing, as well as the credit or gain, and knowing them to be callings, will not meddle with them till they be called to them, which ambitious incousiderates, not being able to ponder, much bss to sustain, thrust their shoulders under, and either b}"^ hook or crook come in, or climb into the chair of honour, more tickle than the stool Eli brake his neck off: whither, when they have aspired with much trouble and cost, they sit as in the top of a mast, in fear and hazard, and often fall with shame and confusion, not unlike to some rash youth, that, having gotten a horse as wild as himself, with much ado backs him, sets him in a sweat, and comes down with a mischief.

For the prevention of all which e\als unavoidably attending ambition, lighting partly upon the intmders themselves, partly upon the admitters, but most heavily upon the commonweal, see how needful Jethro's counsel was and ever will be. That such be provided, not as would have places, but as places should have. Which care, as Jethro commits to Moses, so both the Scripture and reason imposeth upon the superior magistrate, in whose power and place it is either to nominate or constitute inferior authorities ; and whose laidt chielly it is, if they be othei-wise than they ought, or the people injured in this kind. How circmnspect and rehgious ought such to be in the performance of this greatest and weightiest duty.

Unless you will reply, as I fear many a fox doth in his bosom. Thus indeed you have heard it said of old, but those times wei-e plain, and Jethro a simple-meaning old man. A beaten politician of our times, learned in the wisdom of newer state, and acquainted with the mysteries of the market, that knows how to improve things to the best, for his o\^■n time and turn, and to let the common body shift for itself, would have projected Moses a far more commodious plot, after this or the like manner. Now you have oflices to bestow, a fair opportunity in your hand to make yom-self for ever, to raise your house, to pleasm-e your friends; either proclaim it openly or secretly, set it abroad by some means or other, see who bids fairest, weigh the sacrifices, choose the men of the best and greatest gifts.

0 gall of bitterness, 0 root of all evil to church and commonwealth ! when authorities and offices of justice shall be bought and sold, ■■'■ as with a trumpet or drum, to the candle or outrope. The particular branches v.'hereof, when I seriously consider,. I wonder not that Christ with such zealous severity brake down the banks, and whipped out the chapmen out of the temple; nor that Peter with such fiery indignat'on banned Simon and his money. For if such men and money perish not, kingdoms and churches must perish, and both civil and ecclesiastical courts will soon prove dens of thieves. * Tanquam sub hasta.

VOL. UI. D d

Whose sonl bleeds not to see men's souls bought and sold, like sbeep at tbe market to every butcher ? Of this you lawyers much complain against the clergymen, for buying of benefices, which you might do the more justly, if you yourselves were not often the sellers of them. I would the fault rested only in benefices, and reached not into oflices and civil dignities. Indeed that kind of purchase we call not simony, it may from his other name be fitlier Htyled magic; for by I Imow not what kind of witchcraft, men sin by leave and law in these ci'val purchases ; the laws and statutes provided for the remedy of the evil in some cases, tolerating it in other, and the practice by means of this allowance growing intolerable. Some of them (as the world reports) offices for Ufe, and at pleasure, amounting to the rate of lands and inheritances.

I am not ignorant of the distinction of judicature, trust and pains ; but are they not all offices of justice ? Do they not prepare to judicatm-e, and lies it not in them to guide or misguide, to hasten or delay justice, &c., which how can they freely give, which buy dearly ?

Doth not Bucer deal faithfully with his sovereign ? Offices are not hvings and salaries, but charges and duties; not preferments for favourites, but rewards of deserts, &c. Doth Julius, Justinianus, or Theodosius their laws give allowance to any ? See then how providently Jethro provides against this hemlock root of justice ! out of whose proviso I conclude that which Augustine saw in his time, and dear experience confirms in others; that such as provide themselves places, are not provided for them; come into them, and execute them, not with a mind of doing good, but domineering ; not of providing for others' welfare, but for their own turns. Let us pray that, if it be possible, this fault may be forgiven and amended.

And not this only, but another near of kin to this, met withal in the very next clause of my text, 'Among all the people' (Micol Hagnam). Where Jethro restrains not Moses to his own family, to any particular tribe, or to the richer sort; but requires this freedom, as well as the former circumspection. Generality and impartiality being requisite to the good being of a choice ; and limitation and restraint the very banes of election, yea, contradictions to it. As if one should say, you shall choose amongst twenty, but you shall choose this or that one; doth he not in effect say, jovl shall not have your choice ? Will a man, when he goes to market, be confined to any shop or stall, if he mean to provide the best ? How grossly is the country wronged and befooled, chieffy in the choice of such as into whose hands they put their lives and lands at parliaments, by a kind of cowje d' elire, usually sent them by some of the gentry of the shhes, persuading (if not prescribing) the very couple they must choose. Thus have we seen naturals tied to a post with a straw, which they durst not break.

This text bids you know and stand fast in your lawful liberties of election, which, that you may not abuse, I come to the second pai't of the text.

The Second Past.

It teacheth you how to order and direct it by these four marks following, which I reckon as four supporters of the throne of justice, not altogether unlike to those four in Christ's throne, so often mentioned in the Old and New Testament, which, being properties of angels, are symbols both of magistrates and ministers.

These four, whosoever is compounded of, is a man after God's own heart,

and is a star in his right hand. Ho that wants any of them is but a blazing comet, how high soever he seems to soar. These will not only sci-ve for the trial of such as are cand'ulaii, and not to be chosen ; but also of such as are invested and already in place, to approve or reprove their condition. And for this end and purpose, let us use them this day as four weights of the sanctuary, whereunto whatsoever officer here present, from the judges to the bailill's, shall not answer, this text (as the handwriting on the wall) shall say unto him from God, ' Thou art weighed in the balance, and found too light, and thine office (at least, ought to be) taken from thee.'

1. The lii'st and prime mark is abihty {anishi chaiil). So our new translation cxpresseth it well in a comprehensive word, and so I find it in Scripture, signifying and comprising all the severals that belong to faculty or ability ; whereof I number, hi-st, three complemental, for conveniency ; secondly, three substantial, and of necessity.

F'lnt, Chaiil includes strength of body and manhood, such as enableth them for riding, going, sitting, watching, and industrious execution of their place ; such as the Scripture commends in Caleb at fourscore and live ; and stories in Vespasian, om- Alfred, Hardicanutus, Ironsides, &c.

Which our strait-buttoned, carpet, and effeminate gentry, wanting, cannot endm-e to hold out a forenoon or afternoon sitting without a tobacco bait, or a game at bowls, or some such breathing, to refresh their bodies and minds, Httle acqitainted with the tediousness of wise and serious business. ' Woe to the people (saith Solomon) whose princes are children, and eat in the morning; and blessed are the people whose governors eat in time and for strength,' Eccles. x.

Secondly, Neither is wealth to be excluded. That Diana of the world, which it only accounts ability, and calls it opes et potentia, which yet is better called value than valour, yet may it concur to make up that which our law term calls mieux, valiant; and though at the beam of the sanctuary money makes not the man, yet it adds some mettle to the man.

And besides, there is some use of these trappings to the common sort; Ad populum pilialeras, which taught Agrippa to come to the judgment-seat with pomp, state, and attendance, like that of om* sheriffs, not to be neglected, as that which procures some terror and awe in the people ; which Alexander, well advised of, left his gigantic armour behind him among the Indians, and used more state than at Greece.

Yet remembering that these compliments, without the substance, ai'e but empty gulls and scarebugs of majesty, the sophistiy of goveniment,* as ono calls them, and as Zechariah the prophet saith, the instruments of a foohsh governor. And such as Jeremiah derides in Shallum the son of Josiah, Jer. xxii. 14, ' Thinkest thou to rule because of thy large building, cedar ceiling, painted with vennilion ? Did not thy father prosper when he did execute judgment and justice ?' which is indeed the tnith and substance, the other but the flom-ish.

Thirdly, I exclude not birth and blood, which many times conveys spirit and courage with it. ' Blessed is the land whose princes are the sons of nobles,' Eccles. x. 17. Eagles produce eagles, and crows cravens, j-et regeneration and education often corrects this rule ; and experience tells us, that cottages and ploughs have brought forth as able men for the gown and sword, as palaces and sceptres. Gideon came out of the poorest of the family of Manasseh, Judges vi. 15, and he the least in his father's house, a

* lofigiMara iji,op/xo}.vy.sia. Cassa et hordeacea morionia sceptra.—Cliap. Zac.

poor thresher, David was taken from the sheep-fold, &c. Yet both mighty men of valour, and special saviours of their people. And the wisdom of some of our neighbour nations is much to be commended in this, that if ttiey discern an excellent spirit and faculty in any man, they respect not his wealth, or birth, or profession, but choose him into their magistracy and weighty employments.

But these three are but of the by and well-being, the three following of the main and essential to magistracy, all comprised under the word chaiil, as first vpisdom and experience, which the preacher tells us is better than strength either of body or estate, Eccles. ix. 16. And of this abihty, Moses expoimds this word in his practice, Deut. i. 15, which is a good commentary upon his father's advice.

And indeed, without this, what is a magistrate, but a blind Polyphemus, or a monster without an eye ?* If he want either skill in the laws, or observation of his own, must he not be tutored by his clerk, as it often falls out ? Or shall he not be misled b}'- some councillor, crossed and contradicted by every stander by, that shall tell him. This you cannot do by law, or, I take it, you are besides your book ?

The second is strength of mind to govern and manage passion and unruly affections, which he that wields at will is stronger than he that subdues a city and conquers a kingdom. To bear and forbear, and to order the mutinous perturbations of the mind, is that ability which the Grecians call x^oLTog and eyxoarg/a.

Very requisite in a judge, who must not suffer his affection to disquiet his judgment and understanding, in rising at the first complaint, nor at any accident or present miscarriage of either party, suddenly occasioned, which is collateral to the cause, and impertinent to the question; but he must be patient and meek towards their personal weakness. Likewise long-minded, to endure the rusticity and homeliness of common people in giving evidence, after their plain fashion and faculty, in time, and multitude of words, happily with some absurdities of phrase or gestures, nor impatient towards then* foolish affected eloquent terms, nor anything else whereby the truth of their tale may be guessed at.

Lastly and principally, I understand with the Geneva translation, that fortitude, valour, and magnanimity, which we call courage and spirit; typified in Judah, the law-giving tribe, whose emblem or scutcheon was the lion concliant, that sits or lies by the prey without fear of rescue, that turns not his head at the sight of any other creature, Prov. xxx., which Solomon symbolised in the steps of his throne adorned with lions; the Athenian judges by sitting in Mars Street, =v Ags/w rrayM. Some think that from this virtue Constantine was termed. Rev. xii., the church's male or man-child; others apply it to Luther; others to Cluist, the true Lion of Judah.

And though I regard not the Salique Ian:, because the God of spirits hath often put great spirits into that sex, yet I mislike not Theodoret's observation upon that in Leviticus, chap. iv. 22, 27, where the ruler, for his sin, is enjoined to offer an he-goat, the private man a she-goat, f The male suits the ruler best, and the female the ruled.

This ability is so requisite, that it is often put for the only quality, as if this alone would serve, as in Moses' charge to Joshua, and Da%dd's to Solomon. And experience hath taught, that where this one hath abounded, * Monstrum cui lumen ademptum. f •!r^oc(pogov a^oiv tQj a^y^ovTi to ds ^^Xu tw ag^o/Mevtfj.

tbongh the other hath been wantinp; in some magistrates, they have done more good service to their countr}-, than many others who have had some tolerable measure of the rest, but have failed only in tliis.

Had not the principal posts of an house need to be of heart of oak ? Are rulers and standards, that regulate other measures, to bo made of soft wood, or of lead, that will bend and bow at pleasure ? Do men choose a starting horse to lead the team ? Had not ho need be of David's valour, and Samson's courage, that must take the prey out of the lion's mouth, and rescue the oppressed from the man that is too mighty for him ? Had not he need to be of some spirit and resolution, that must neglect the displeasure and frowns, reject the letters and suits, of great men and superiors ?

It is incredible to those that know it not, what strength great men will put to (especially if once interested) for the upholding of a rotten ale-house, countenancing of a disordered retainer, &c. The resistance whereof, re-quii-es it not some spirit ? Had not the brain need to be of a strong constitution, that must dispel and disperse the fumes ascending from a corrupt liver, stomach, or spleen ? I mean the clamours, rumours, and sometimes the flatteries of the vulgar, which often intoxicate able men, and make them as wx'ak as water; yielding and giving, as Pilate, when he heard but a buzz that he was not Cresar's friend, and saw that, in dismissing Christ, he should displease the Jews.

What heroical spirit had he need have, that must encounter the Hydra of sin, oppose the current of the times, and the torrent of vice, that must turn the wheel over the wicked; especially such roariug monsters, and rebellious Korahs, such lawless sons of Belial, wherewith our times swann, who stick not to oppose with crest and breast, whosoever stand in the way of their humours and lusts ! Surely if Jethro called for courage in those modest primitive times, and among a people newly tamed with Egyptian yokes, what do our audacious and foreheadless swaggerers require ? Our lees and dregs of time, not unlike to those wherein God was fain to raise up exti-aordinary judges to smite hip and thigh, &c. What Atlas shall support the state of the ruinous and tottering world, in these perilous ends of time ?

For all these fore-named purposes, how unapt is a man of a soft, timorous, and flexible nature ! for whom it is as possible to steer a right course, without swerving to the left hand or right, for fear or favour, as it is for a cock-boat to keep head against wund and tide, without help of oars or sails : experience ever making this good, that cowards are slaves to their superiors, fellow-fools to their equals, tyrants to their inferiors, and windmills to popular breath, not being able to any of these to say so much as No!

■Wherefore this text proclaims and speaks, as Gideon, in the cars of all the faint-hearted, * Whosoever is fearful and timorous, let him depart' from Mount Gilead, Judges \ii. 3, and there departed twenty thousand; and yet God the second time, out of the remnant, viz., ten thousand, dei'aulks all the lazy persons, and reduced that huge army to three hundred able persons.

It were excellent for the commonwealth, if such a subtraction might be made, and the weak-hearted would resign their rooms to able men. For what have servile cowards to do with the sword of the Lord and Gideon, with God and the king's offices ?

On the contrary, it saith to all men of ability, as the angel to Gideon,

* The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valour; go on in this thy might, to save Israel,' &c. What is our office, that are ministers, but as Grod's trumpeters and drummers to encourage, hearken, and put life in those that fight his battles, and do his work ? By the virtue, then, of this my text, I say to every good-hearted magistrate, Proceed, and go on from strength to strength.

And if any ask me, TlTio, then, is sufficient for these things ? Or where shall we get this strength, that are but flesh and blood, and men as others ? I answer, with Job, ' Silver hath his vein, and gold his mine where it is found; iron is taken out of the earth, and brass molten out of the stone,' Job xxviii.; but the place of this ability is not to be found in the land of the living. Nature saith it is not to be found in me ; wealth and honour says not in me. It is falsely said of Cato and Fabricius, that the sun might sooner be stayed or altered in his race, than they in the com-se of justice. The stoutest and the richest will yield. But David tells his son Solomon, on his deathbed, where he shall find it, 1 Chron. xxix. 11, 12 : ' Thine, 0 Lord, is greatness and power ; thou art the head of all riches ; honour and strength are in thy hands ; it is in thee to make great,' &c. This God hath taught David to break a bow of steel with his hands. It is he that looseth the collar of princes, girdeth their loins, and ungirdeth them again, befools the counsellor, the judge, and the spokesman. He it was that made the shoes of Joseph as strong as brass, Jeremiah as a wall of brass, Caleb as strong at fourscore and five as at forty. If Samson's hair be off, and God departed from him, he is as other men, and he can strengthen liim again without his locks at his pleasure.

If any man want wisdom or strength, let him pray, and he can make him wiser than the children of the east, and stronger than the Anakims. Wherefore be strong in the Lord, faint not; be not weary of well-doing, for fear of opposition and crossing. Though in rowing this ship the winds blow, and the seas rage, Chiist can straight send an halcyon, and set it on shore.

It is the fault of many Christian magistrates, ever to be complaining and groaning under the burthen, as if ease and delicacy were to be sought for in government. What if there be a lion in the way ? The righteous is bolder than the lion. What if thou be weak ? Is not God strength ? and doth he not perfect his strength in our weakness ? What if there be many opposites in the way ? True courage is strong as death, Cant, viii., and will trample all under feet without resistance.

Yea, but what if an host come against thee, and as bees encompass thee ? True faith sees more on God's side than against them, even guards of angels, as plainly as men do the sheriff's halberts, and doubts not, but in the name of the Lord, to vanquish them all.

One concluding place for all, out of a preacher's mouth, Eccles. vii. 15, that knew what he said : ' Wisdom strengthens one man more than twenty mighty potentates that are in a city,' he that feareth God shall come forth of all dangers. Whence, by way of passage, note that the next point of the fear of God, is that which giveth life to the foregoing, and to the two following also : and is placed in the text, as the heart in the body, for conveying life to all the parts ; or, as a dram of musk, perfuming the whole box of ointment.

2. Fearing God. Jethro must be understood, not Of the poor, bastardly, slavish fear, which depraved natm'e hath left in all; nor of any sudden flash of fear wrought by word or works, such as Felix, Belshazzar, and CaUgula,

were not void of, and yot never the better magistrates ; but such a filial fear as faith and the assurance of God's love and salvation breeds, such as awed Joseph, Cornelius, DaN-id, &c. This is the fear re(]uired by Jethro, euffEjSs/a, qua juirit suXujSilav, godliness which breedeth an heedfulness in all our ways and actions.

Without this fear of God, what is ability but the devil's anvil, whereon he forgcth and hammereth mischief'? ^Vhat is msdom but subtilty ? What is courage uusanctiiied but injustice ? Wherein is such skill in the laws commonly employed, but in colouring and covering bad causes and persons, and in making the laws a nose of wax to private ends ? Other men have other bits and restraints; but men in authority, if they fear not God, have nothing else to fear. Wherefore Christ joins them well in the unrighteous judge, that he feared neither God nor man. If he be a simple coward, he fears all men ; if a man of ability, he fears none at all.

What are the nerves and sinews of all government, the bonds and commands of obedience, but an oath ? And what are oaths to profane men, but as Samson's cords, which he snapt asunder, as fast as they were offered him. The common sort of our people count the oaths that men take when they take offices, no other than formal; so they distinguish them (a strange distinction) from other oaths of contract, and dally with them accordingly.

They discern God no more in oaths than Christ in the sacraments, and therefore take them, and break them, rashly and regardlessly; which, when they have done, the devil enters into them, as into Judas, and runs them headlong into all peijured com-ses, which makes the land to mourn for the contempt of oaths and neglect of duties. What is the ground of all fidelity to king and coinitry but religion ? Well fare Constantius's maxim : ' He cannot be faithful to me that is unfaithful to God.' Why, then, what are oaths for atheists and papists, other than collars for monkies' necks, which slip them at then* pleasure ? -:= Such neither are, nor can be, good subjects, much less good magistrates. Papists ■n-ill keep no faith with pro-testants, let protestants give no trust to papists, though they swear upon all the books in the world.f

Finally, what is the principal scope of magistracy in God's intention, whose creature and ordinance it is ; but, to promote his glor}-, countenancing the gospel and the professors of it, safeguard of the church and commonwealth, the first and second table, and principally the former. Now, for all these, chiefly for the chiefest, what cares a Cato or a Galho, who bears the sword in vain for God and his ends; who never minds anything but his own cabinet, or the ship of the commonwealth, at the best ? For the other, sink they, swim they, all is one to him, he took no charge, nor will he take notice of them.

WTierefore I conclude, that the fear of God is the principal part, as of my text, so of a good magistrate, whom Chi-ist calls a ruler in Israel, John iii.; Paul, God's minister and sword-bearer, Rom. xiii.; yea, the veiy form and soul of such an one; yea, it troubles me to make it, but a part which Solomon calls the whole of a man, Ecdes. xi. 13, especially such a man who is sent of God, for the praise of the godly, and the pimishment of evildoers, 1 Pet. ii. In which respect, being the main of my text, give me leave to give you a short character of such a magistrate, as this quahty will make him, wherever it is found in any good latitude.

t Nulla Hiics habenda papistis, etiamsi per omnes decs juravennt.

He is one that came into liis place by God's door, and not by the devil's window; when he is in, he eyes him that is invisible, even God in the assembly of gods; and therefore sits on the judgment-seat in as great, though not in so slavish, a fear of offending, as Olanes upon the flayed skin of his father Sylannes, nailed by Cambyses on the tribunal; or as a Russian ludge that fears the boiling cauldron or opeu-battocking ; * or the Turldsh senate, when they think the gi'eat Turk to stand behind the arras, at the dangerous door.

Who hath always (as God enjoineth, Deut. xvii. 18) a copy of the law of his God before him, and reads it all the days of his life, that he may learn to fear the Lord his God, and to keep the commandments, without turning aside either to the right hand or left.

If at all he be glad of his place, it is not as a chair of honour, or farm of commodity, nor sword of revenge; but only as a mean of furthering his reckoning and pleasuring his country. For his oath he remembers it, and trembles lest, if carelessly he transgress it, the winged flying book overtake him before he get home ; if he cut but the skirt or lap of justice, his heart smites him with a privy pinch, till he sets all right again -with God and man. He dares not so much as by countenance offend any of God's little ones, nor afford a good look to a varlet, nor yet to respect their persons as to wrong their cause, for he knows all these to be abomination to his Lord, into whose hands he dreads to fall, as knowing him a consuming fii-e, and one that hath provided Tophet for princes. When an unlawful suit is com-mencedf by power or by friendship, his heart answers (if not his tongTie) with Job: ' How shall I do this, and answer God when he comes to judgment ?'

As for bribes he dares not look on them, lest they blind his eyes before he be aware; such pitch he dares not touch, nor receive into his bosom, lest it defile him in the open sun; if tendered in closet or chamber, he fears the timber and stones in the wall would be witnesses against him.

When he comes in court, he fixeth his eye, neither before him on that person, nor about him on the beholders, nor behind him for bribes, but upward on God,]; generally considering that Christ is Lord-paramount of all courts of justice, and that now his Father hath resigned all judgment into his hands. He stewards all to his content, promotes his profits without wrong to the tenant. Looks so to the church, that the commonweal receive no detriment; and so to the commonwealth as the church shall sm'ely flourish; so countenancing the servants of God that he WTong not the worst worldling ; maintains piety and neglects not equity ; keeps his house well, but his church better; in frequenting whereof, he, v/ith his family, are precedents to all the hundreds where he dwells ; and, in a word, doth as much good by his example as by his authority.

This is the godly man, whom the Lord chooseth and guideth, whose praise and reward is of God, which David, having found true in this life, a httle before his death recordeth to all ages. ' The Spirit of the Lord spake by me, and his word was in my tongue. The God of Israel spake to me, the strength of Israel said. Thou shalt bear rule over men, being iust, and ruling in the fear of God. Even as the morning hght when the sun riseth, the morning, I say, vt'ithout clouds, so shall mine house be, and not as the grass of the earth is by the bright rain. For God hath

* That is, the bastinado— Ed. t Qu-' Commended ?'— Ed.

X Summa boni judicis est neqne respicere neque despicere, neque circumspicere, sad suspicere.—Ferus iu John v. 30.

made with mo an everlasting covenant, perfect in all points, and sure,' 2 Sam. xxiii. 2—4.

Let the devil and the world storm and burst with envy. One of these is worth a thousand of the common sort, though men will see no difference, but say, Ai'c not all honest and sufficient men ? Let men talk of their quiet and peaceable neighbours, and good housekeepers, good commonwealth men; though these be good things, yet if religion come not in, as a number to make them of some value, they ai'o all but as cyphers m God's account.

Now, if God think so meanly of these, who are either mere civil and politic mon, or idle, pleasurable gentlemen, what reckoning do we think ho makes of such profane, uncu'cumcised \'ice-gods (as I may, in the worst seust', host term them) that sell themselves to work wickedness, that give themselves to all good fellowship (as they call it), and to all excess of riot (as the apostle calls it), and that hate to be refonned,—such, I mean, as hold religion a disparagement to gentry, and fear nothing more than to have a name that they fear God, who think when they have gotten an office they may swear by authority, oppress by hcencc, diink and swill without control.

What shall I say of such ? Ai-e these gods and children of the Most High, or the characters of his most holy image? Devils are they rather than deputies for him, imps of his kingdom, far better becoming an ale-bench than a shire-bench, and the bai* than a judgment-seat.

But what shall I say to such mock-god-like Esaus ? Shall I take up the words of Moses, * If thou wilt not fear this glorious name. The Lord thy God, I will make thy plagues wonderful, and of great continuance?' or those of Da\id, which perhaps will fit them better, and these times of imminent changes, ' They know not, and understand nothing; they walk in darkness, albeit the foundations of the earth be moved. I have said. Ye are gods; but ye shall die like men, and fall hke others.' Or will they suffer the prophet's exhortation, Isa. hi. 8, 12, 13. ' Who art thou that dreadest a mortal man, whose breath is in his nostrils, whom the moth shall cat like a garment, and the worm like wool, and forgettest thy maker, that hath spread the heavens, laid the foundations of the earth, that giveth the fii'st and latter rain, that hath set the bounds to the sea,' Sec, Jer. v. 23, 24. Or will they hear Solomon's end of all, * Fear God, that will bring every secret to judgment' ? or a greater yet than Solomon, ' Fear him that is able, when he hath killed the body, to destroy the soul also in hell fire for evermore ' ?

Well, the Lord cause them to hear, that hath planted the ear, and plant his fear in their hearts where it is not, increase it where it is, that there may be more holy magistrates, and that the holy may yet be more holy. And then we hope the other two properties following ^^^ll more abound, and we shall spend the less time and labour about them; for men fearing God truly win be also

3. ' Men of trath,' without which show of rcUgion is but lying vanity,— a glorious profession, but plain h}'pocrisy; and courage, if it be not for the truth, and in the truth, is but either tlu'asonical audacity or wicked impudency. And therefore this character, added to the former, joins those which are in the form of jurates, and ought to be in all officers, * good men and true.'

This style, ' men of truth,' admits two interpretations, both compatible with the text and theme. A man of truth is cither a tnie Israelite, a true Nathanael, void of guile, as truth is opposed to hj-pocrisy, ©<> a? »jt'>if; or

else a lover of tlie truth, as truth is opposed unto falsehood; one that, in particular cases, suits, and controversies between man and man, counts it his honour to sift out the truth, maintain the truth, stick to it, not suffering himself to be misinformed by tale-bearers, promoters, and sycophants, nor misled and perverted by the false pleading and colouring of conscienceless counsellors, but brings judgment to the balance and rule of righteousness, and delights (as the hound doth naturally in scenting out the hare) to search and trace out the truth out of all the thickets and dens of juggling and conveyance, laboming as much to bolt it out by examination in hypo-thesi as the j^hilosophers by disputations in thesi; being of his temper that worthily said, Plato is my friend, Socrates my friend, but the truth is my dearest friend; or like Job, chap. xxix. 16, who covered himself with justice, and to whom judgment was as a robe and a crown, who, when he knew not the cause, sought it out diligently.

And, for this purpose, a man of truth keeps men of tmth about him, and, with David, abandons all liars out of his household, Ps. ci. 7; whereas of a prince that hearkeneth to lies, all his servants are liars. And of such justice which is in truth and for truth, I say (as of old it was said) neither the evening nor morning star equals it in brightness.*

But withal I must complain, as of old, that truth is fallen in the streets, and utterly perished from among men, Isa. v. 44. Judgment fails, and stands afar off. Equity enters not, the common trade of the times being to weave lies in all cases, especially against the true servants of God, and the common weakness of the times to receive the slanders which are broached and bruited by tongues set on fire from heU, so that he that refrains from cunning makes himself a prej^ the Latin whereof was all that Louis the Eleventh would have his son to learn,f and is all the policy that most study and practise; insomuch that the common bywords are, that when men swear by faith and truth, they swear by idols that are not. Names they are, and notions; things they are not, nor substances. Jewels they are, but such as use them die beggars; honourable ladies and mistresses they are, but such as follow them close at the heels may have their teeth dashed out of their heads.

Well, let deceivers thus deceive themselves ; let cunning heads and glozing tongues make as much as they will of Tiberius's art, or the devil's rather, the father of the art of dissimulation. In the end, they shaU prove it to be most pernicious to the students and masters of it. Let the children of truth justify their mother, which hath the reward of honour in her right hand, and of wealth in the left. And if it should be attended with hatred and crosses for a time, yet he that is Amen, the true witness, yea, truth itself, will reward them in the end ; when he shall shut out with the dogs all such as love and make lies; with whose exhortation I close up this link, and knit with the following, ' Buy the truth, and seU it not;' which he that means to do must be,

4. A true ' hater of covetousness,' else will Solomon's several proverbs meet in him, ' The wicked gives heed to the false lip, and the liar to a naughty tongue,' Pro. xvii. 4. He taketh the gift out of the bosom to wrest judgment. Acceptation of gifts prove commonly prevarication to the truth.] It is impossible to be a champion to truth and a slave to Mammon; but he must love the one and hate the other.' It is best, therefore, to hate the worst, yea, the worst of all vices incident to magistracy, the root of all evil, which, if it be not rooted out of the magistrate's heart, it alone will poison

* Nee Hesperus nee vesper formosior. f Qui nescit dissimulare nescit vivere. J Acceptatio muneris est prsevaricatio veritatis.

all the three former qualities required in him. Neither strength, nor religion, nor love of the truth, shall bo able to preserve him from enchantmcuts of covctousness.

Which being an inordinate love of money, an evil concupiscence of having more than God hath allotted, or a la\vful course aflordcth, is such a kind of idolatry as transformeth the worshippers of this golden calf into idols themselves, making them to have eyes that see not, cars that hear not, only leaving them hands to handle that which perveiieth the eyes of the wise, Deut. xvi. 19. It bores out their eyes, and maketh them as blind as ever was Samson and Zedekiah.

Eyes, you know, are tender things, and small motes annoy them ; even handfuls of barley and morsels of bread make such men to transgress, Ezek. xiii. 8; and a dram's weight injected inclines the golden scales of justice to which side they please.

There is such a strange, bewitching power in Balaam's deceitful wages, that he that will admit them for justice shall soon take them for injustice.* If the right hand be full of bribes, the left hand must be full of mischief. The devil as well as the briber layeth his hooks in this shrap, whereof he that is greedy and will needs be rich fallcth into his snare, and many other noisome lusts, which sink men into perdition, 1 Tim. vi., pierce their souls with sorrow, their names with reproach, cause them to swerve fi-om the tnith, and make shipwi-eck of a good conscience. Even the most precious things are vile and cheap in his eyes to whom money is dear. He will not stick, with Ahab, to sell even himself to work wickedness for the compassing of that his soul loveth and longeth after.

But thou, 0 man of God, flee these things, and hate covctousness with a perfect hatred. Hate it as Amnon did Taniar. First thrust it out of thy heart, and shut and lock the door after it. Secondly, let thy behaviour and conversation be averse and strange from the love of money.f Let all sordid and filthy lucre be abominable, all ill-gotten goods execrable. Let them stink in thy nostrils as ill as Vespasian's tribute of ui'ine.

Shake thy lap of bribes with Nehemiah. Consider, as Bernard counsels Eugcnius, how the people may grow rich under thee, and not thou by them. J Remember the end of Balaam's wages, and of Judas's bag. And wish with Damianus rather to have Gehazi's leprosy than his curse entailed to thee and thy posterity and inheritance after thee, fretting thine estate as a canker and moth, consuming your flesh as fire, and crying in the ears of the Lord of hosts for vengeance.

But what do I making myself ridiculous to this old, doting, covetous age of the world ? This theme only made the pharisees laugh at Christ's woes, because they were covetous. And so do they serve all our caveats against covctousness, applauding themselves, and laughing in their sleeves when they behold their bags in the chest, and their lands from ofl" their turrets, saying to themselves, What is a man but his wealth ? What is an office but the fees.

There is a text in Isaiah, chap, xxxiii 14, that, if Paul had the preaching of it, he would make every gi'oppiug and gripping Felix to tremble. I mean such as the Scripture tenneth roaring lions, ranging bears, horse-leeches, wolves, devouring all in the evening, and leaving none till the morning, as well judges that judge for reward, and say with shame, ' Bring you,' * A venditione justi judicii venitur ad venditionem nequissimi. t Heb. xiii. 5, a^iXaeyvPog 6 rgocroj.

X Prtees ut de subditis crescas ? ncquaquam, sed ut ipsi de te.

such as the countiy calls capon-justices; as also such mercenary lawyers as sell both their tongues and their silence, their clients' causes, and their own consciences, who only keep life in the law so long as there is money in the purse, and when this golden stream ceaseth the mill stands still, and the case is altered; such extorting officers of justice as invent pulleys and winches for extraordinary fees, to the miserable undoing of poor suitors ; such false perjured sherifis, stewards of liberties, and their deputies, as for money falsify their charges; such corrupted jurates and witnesses of the post, which are as hammers and swords and sharp arrows in their brethren's hearts; such cheese-bailiffs and lamb-bailifis as vex the poor countiymen with unjust summonses to the assizes and sessions, with the rest of that rabble.

These muck-woi-ms of the world, which, like the gentles, breed of putrefaction, and beetles fed in the dung, relishing nothing else but earthly things, think there is no other godliness but gain, no happiness but to scrape and gather, to have and to hold. Let such consult shame to their houses. Let such make their offices as casting-nets for all fish that come, till they get the devil and all. Let them heap up treasures of wickedness and treasures of wrath withal.

But where there is any fear of God and love of the truth, let John's counsel prevail with them, to ' be content with their due wages.' Let Paul persuade them that godliness is gain with contentation; Solomon, that God's blessing maketh rich, and adds no sorrow therewith. So shall they follow Jethro's advice the better, and prove complete magistrates and officers, * men of courage, men of religion, men of truth, hating covetousness.'

These are the fom- cardinal virtues of magistrates, of which, if all were compounded, and were as eminent for them as for their place, and did (as the great dictator of reason speaks in his politics) as far exceed the vulgar sort in those heroical virtues as the statues of the gods the statues of men, then would people become voluntaiy subjects, put the sceptres into their hands, and the law of commanding and obeying become easy, things thought irreparable would easily be reformed.

The Third Paet.

But before I come to make use of what hath been said, let me, as the third part of my text and the distribution of magistracy requires, tell you to whom all this hath been spoken. Not to judges and justices of peace only, as I fear most have imagined in hearing it, but to all, from the highest and greatest to the lowest and least instrument of justice, from the governor of the thousand to the centm-ion, fi-om him to the tithing man or deci-ner. To the which ancient division of the Jewish commonwealth our platform agrees in substance. Their Sanhedrim or senate of seventy, to our parHament, council table, star chamber, exchequer chamber, &c. Our justices of assizes, in their circuit, and justices of peace, in their general commission or dominion, and high sherifis in their shires, answering to the rulers of thousands.

Our justices in their several di\'isions, judges of hundred courts and turns, to their rulers of hundi-eds, to whom I may add high constables in their places; our court leets, and court barons, to their rulers of fifties ; to whom I add ordinary constables in their offices ; our chief pledges, tithing-men, or deciners, to their rulers of tens. Now all these Jethro means, and speaks of every one of them in their station and degree, con-

ceiving the commonwealth as an instrument not -well In tunc, if hut the least of these strings be false or naught.

Contrary to the common and dangerous opinion of the Aiilgar, who to their own injury think and say, that it matters not for petty officers, constables, and bailifl's, &c,, though they bo of the lees and di'cgs of men; nay, they hold that for some offices, it is pity any honest men should come into them. Alas ! alas ! the more subject to teutation and vice it is, the more neetlful it is that none other should have them.

0 but (say they) a good judge or justice may help all. They err and aro deceived ; it is no one beam, though never so bright, that enlightens all; it is not the light and influence of the fixed stars, though the greatest and highest, but of the sun and moon, and the lowest and nearest orbs, that govern the world. It is the ground wind, not the rack wind, that drives mills and ships. It is in the civil, as in the ecclesiastical body ; if bishops be never so learned, and the parishional ministers negligent, worldly, proud, or blind Sir Johns, ' the people perish for want of vision.'

What can the superior do, if the inferior infoiTu not ? '\Miat can the eye do, if the hand and foot be crooked and unserviceable ? Yea, not only if such as be organs of justice, such as have places of judicature ; but if the media and spectacles of the sense will yield a false report, how shall the common sense make a right judgment ? If pleaders and attorneys will coloui" and gloze, if the clerks and penmen make false records, may not any of these disturb or pervert justice '? If the least finger or toe of this body Le distorted, I mean jailor or sergeant, or any other that should execute justice, be remiss and slack, then must the Dutchman's proverb be verified, Look what the bell is without the clapper, such are good laws and judgments without due execution. =:«

Thus we see in this cmious clock-work of justice, the least pin or wheel amiss may distemper and disorder all; but if care were had to frame all these parts of the building according to the platform of this skiliul architect, what an absolute harmony of the parts, what an exact perfection of the whole; yea, what golden times should wo live to see!

Hearken, 0 ye mountains and little hills, you ralers of thousands, you rulers of tens, you reverend sages of the laws, you worshipful kuights and gentlemen of the countiy ; yea, listen to this charge of Jethro, ye of the meanest places of the commonwealth, weigh not things nor persons at the common beam of custom and opinion, but at the golden standard of God's sanctuary, with these goldsmiths' weights of my text, which if I shall persuade you to do, I fear that we must say with the Psalmist, that sons of men Bcni-Adam, yea, the chiefestmen. Beiil-ish, to be laid upon the balance, ^vill be found lies, and lighter than vanity, Ps. Ixi. 9; here money will not make the man, nor craft carry it awa)'. Eveiy Nabal of Mount Cannel, nor every Ahithophel may be admitted.

The text saith to evciy timorous, profane, false-hearted, covetous person, as Samuel to Saul, ' God hath rent thine office from thee, and bestowed it on thy better;' or as the Scripture of Judas, ' Let another more worthy take his place ;' if this order and rule of trial might take place, how many would be turned out of commission ? how many would bo ojicii jurda; 1 how would benches and shire-houses be tliinned V

As for this present, to the which God hath called mc to speak (for if I had called myself, I could not nor durst not speak), give me leave without ofience to speak that plainly and openlv, which I conceive inwardly. AVhen * Quod campaua sine pistillo, &c. Apud Bucolacum.

I have come into the shire-house sometimes to observe the state of it, it hath presented itself to my view, not unhke to that image in Daniel, or picture in Horace, or table of the popes of Rome, which for memory's sake I reduce to these two distichs :

Ex aiiro caput est, argentea brachia, venter

^neus, admisto fcn-ea crura luto Divino capiti, ceruix liumana, ferinus

Assuitur truncus, Dsemoniique pedes.

The head of gold. And with such honourable judges God hath usually, and for a long time, blessed this circuit. If I had ever heard other of these present, I durst not give titles, lest my Maker should condemn me ; yet being unknown to me but by fame, which hath spoken all good, I desire you to prove and weigh yourselves by Jethro's weights, and accordingly to have peace and approof in your own consciences before the Judge of all judges.

The shoulders of silver. A worthy bench, yet mingled with some dross, and not so refined as I have known and seen it, like the sky in a clear evening bespangled with bright stars. Many such there be at this present. God be praised, religious and able justices, and so many, as I believe few other benches are furnished withal; yet in this silver I fear some dross, some whose skill and ability the country doubts of, being conceived to be either so simple or so timorous, that they dare meddle with none that dare meddle with them ; or else so popular they will displease none. The devil himself, they say, may keep an ale-house under their nose. Others whose religion they call into question, at least for the truth, and for the power of it; unless religion may stand with common swearing, with drinking, with familiarity with papists and recusants, with ungoverned and ungodly families, void of all exercises of religion, fraught with spirits of the buttery, ruffians, ale-house hunters, and such as are the sin-tutors and sin-leaders to all the country about them. I hope there be few such, I could wish there were none at all.

The breast and belly of brass, the strength of the country, in which rank I account the great inquest, jurymen, and constables, of which number how few make a conscience to present disorders according to oath, or that know and regard the bond of an oath !

The legs and feet of iron and clay, or mire. Indeed the very mire and dirt of the country, the bailifis, stewards of small liberties, bum-bailiffs, jailors, &c. If Beelzebub wanted officers, he needed no worse than some of these ; what mysteries have they to vex the poor countrymen with false arrests ? and by virtue of that statute tying every freeholder of forty shilhngs per annum to attend the assizes ; but I list not to stir this sediment of the country, too unsavory to be raked up in a sermon.

0 that some Jehoshaphat would visit and reform, or that you judges in these your days of visitations would redress some part of these grievances, and reduce all to this idea of Jethro's, which indeed would make a heaven upon earth amongst us. An Utopia, I fear some will say, too good to be true, objecting to me as to Cato, that, he not discerning the times he Uved in, looked for Plato's commonwealth in the dregs of Romulus. And so that these magistrates, thus limned out, might be found in Moses' golden age of the world, but not in these lees of time.

To which I answer: that if Jethro were now to give advice, he would double the force of it. If David's reason be true, it is now high time for God to work, for men have destroyed his law. Was there ever more need

of courage than now, when sin is so andacions ? of truth, when Esauism ? of rehgion, when hypocrisy and iniquity ? of contcntation, when the love of the world so ahouuds ? The only way to repair these x-uins of the dying world, is to renew government to the primitive heauty of it: the face whereof I have now shewed in this excellent mirror or looking-glass; so you go not away, and forget hoth the comeliness and spots it hath shewed you, but wash and be clean, and such as it would have you to be.

The Fourth Part.

There being nothing else remaining to your perfection, and tho peace of the commonwealth, but this one item following in my text, requiring assiduity and diligence : ' Let them judge the people at all times,' &c.

A most needful caveat in times that love ease and private employments, with neglect of pubhc. Sitting in the gate is pei-petually needful. Diligence in hearing and ending causes, would prevent that grievance of delays which occasioned Jethro his discourse: how do you think it would have affected him to have seen six or seven, I have heard sixteen, sums set upon one suit ? These our Enghsh delays being (as Marnixius complained) worse than Spanish strappadoes.

And it is fit, though public and general courts have their terms, yet that particular audience of petty gi'ievance should have no vacation.

Many are the suits and controversies, many are the criminal offences, that need continual inspection. Let him therefore that hath an office, attend to his office with cheerfulness; he that hath no leisure to hear his neighbour's causes, let him (as the woman said to Phihp) have no leisure to bear office. Cursed is he that doeth the work of the Lord negligently, and withholdeth his hands therefi'om.

You gentlemen complain often of idle shepherds, dumb dogs, &c., in the ministiy. But how many such in the magistracy ! Some in commission, that never sit on the bench but for fashion; constables that are but cyphers in their place. Forsooth they will be no pragmatical fellows, no busybodies to trouble the country. Is there no mean between busybodies and tell-clocks, between factotums and faineants ?

From this neglect comes that wrong and injury to the assizes, that such petty causes, trilling actions and complaints, trouble these gi-ave and reverend personages, which a mean yeoman were judge fit enough to end in a chair at home : when the whole shire must be troubled to hear and judge of a curtsey* made out of the path, or a blow given upon the shoulder, upon occasion of a wager, or such like bauble-trespasses which I shame to mention. And to punish every petty larcenary, every small riot or disorder, which lighter controversies and faults, if particular oflicers would compromise and redi-ess in their spheres, these gi'eater orbs should not be troubled with them.

The Fifth Part.

Then indeed would that follow, which Jethro assures Moses of in the last part of my text, ver 23 : 'If thou do this thing (God so commanding thee), then shalt thou and thy people endure, and all this people shall go quietly to their place.'

That is, 'a short-cut.'— Ed.

An admirable emolument of magistracy, and sufficient reward of all the pains of it; that they and the people may go home in peace, sit under their vines and fig-trees, follow their callings, and, that which is the chief jewel of all, may lead their lives in all godliness and honesty. That the gold, blue, and purple silk might shine and glitter within the tabernacle, the outside was covered with red skins and goats' hair ; such a shelter is magistracy to God's chm'ch and religion. Nebuchadnezzar was a great tree, and every particular magistrate a little one, under whose boughs people build and sing, and bring up their young ones in religious nurture, even foster-fathers as Joseph in Eg}'pt. Such were the rich and religious times under David and Solomon, and under such as are described, Isa. xxxii., which whole chapter is worth the reading, as a just commentary upon this point; setting forth the felicity, quietness, plenty, virtue and piety of just governors, as are hiding-places fi.-om the wind, and refuges from the tempest, rivers of waters to dry places, and as the rain to the new mown grass, &c.

Such also were the times enjoyed by the church under Constantine, deciphered, as I take it, Rev. viii., when there was silence in the heaven about half an hour, the golden vials filled with sweet odours, the prayers of the saints ascending as a pillar of smoke up to heaven.

Of these times see panegyrical sermons, and encomiastical discourses storied of old, and one of them at large recorded by Eusebius,* which whole book is nothing but an eulogium of those peaceable days, wherein the church was edified and multiplied. The commonwealth being to the church, as the elm is to the vine, or as the garden to the bees ; the flom-ishing of the one, the thriving of the other; and the disturbance of the one, the disquiet of the other.

How can men either attend God's service or their own work, when they are molested at home with drunkards, barretors, quarrellous persons ? when hurried up to London with suits ? As I have known a constable molested with five or sis actions, for an act of justice in punishing vice according to his office, "With what bitterness of spirit do men gi'oan under delayed and perverted justice, when it is turned into hemlock, and turns them out of their wits, some of them swooning at the sight of their orders, as I have heard from credible eye-witnesses, others ready to destroy themselves, their adversaries, yea, and sometimes their* judges!

Oh, the benefit of good magistrates. It is an unlmown good, as the countryman in an ancient poet, when he had met withal, feelingly cries out, that he had found that swnmuni bonum, which the philosophers so much sought after, he now enjoying more sweetness of little than of great revenues in troublous times. Surely, we Christians ought to prize it as the mean of our greatest good, of om- peaceable frequenting of our churches, and our serving of God. Merchants make a higher use, and are more glad of a calm than common passengers; so should we Christians than heathens, by how much we may and ought to improve it for richer ends of God's glory, and the salvation of our souls.

Lord, what manner of persons ought we to be in all godliness and honesty, which enjoy such length and latitude of halcyon days, as w^e do ; the tithe whereof, not only former days, but our neighbour nations, would now be glad of.

God give us the use and fruit of them, continue and increase them, which will then be when this text shall be most studied and practised. Then (as Amos speaks) shall judgment flow as waters, and righteousness run down

* Euseb. lib. 10

as a mighty torrent; or as David: ' Then shall the earth increase, all people shall praise God, and God even oui* God shall bless us, and all the ends of the earth shall I'oar him.' And so I make Jcthro's preface my conclusion. ' I have given you comisel this day; hearken to my voice, and the Lord God be with you all.' Amen.

TO ]MY LOVING BROTHER MR SAMUEL WAED

'' Brother — ^If you meet vrith your Jethi'o's counsel, returned from beyond the seas, and as much beyond yom* expectation preserved alive as his son-in-law was against Pharaoh's injunction, marvel as much as you will, but be no more offended than you have cause. Joab sinned wider on the other hand in destrojing David's Absalom, contraiy to his serious charge, yet Joab was pardoned, and yet no brother. I have noted you hitherto inexorable for yom* o\\'n publishing of anything of your own; whether out of judgment, modesty, cui'iosity, or melancholy, I judge not; but when others have adventured them with fruit and acceptance into the light, I have seen you rest content with the public good. The Uke leave I have taken, expecting the like success ; assuring you and myself of the general welcome-ness and usefuhiess hereof to all whom it concerns, which are the greatest number of the land, even so many as have any reference to s.\ssions and assizes, if not all sorts of Chi-istians. Only I fear that the corruption of our times is grown so gross and Eglon-like, that it doth not Ehud-like enough shai-pen the points, and send them home to the hilt, that they may reach to the quick. I had myself added thereto a project and persuasion for the redress of many abuses crept into offices and officers, having spent so much time in the study of the law, and execution of some offices, as made me weary of the errors I saw, and heartily wish the refonnation of them; but fearing I have learned too much bluntness and plumpness of speech among the Lutherans, which is here as prime a quaUty as smoothness with you, as also loath to meddle out of mine orb, in my second thoughts I suppressed it. And so wishing unto this many dihgent, couscionable, and ingenuous readers and appliers, and to them God's blessing and the fruit intended, I take my leave. From Elbing in Prussia.

Your Brother in the flesh, in the Lord, and in the work of the ministry,

NATH. WARD.

VOL. in. K e

i PEACE-OFFERING TO GOD

FOR THE BLESSINGS WE ENJOY UNDER HIS MAJESTY'S

REIGN;

WITH A THANKSGIVING FOB THe PRINCE's SAFE RETURN, ON SUNDAY THE 5tH

OF OCTOBER 1623.

IN A SEKMON PKEACHED AT MANITREE, IN ESSEX, ON THURSDAY

THE 9th of OCTOBER, NEXT AFTER HIS HIGHNESS'S

HAPPY ARRIVAL.

TO THE

KING'S MOST SACEED MAJESTY.

The altar of incense was compassed about with a crown of pure gold. Gratitude is a rich and royal virtue, best beseeming the best princes, which have the best means to express, and the most cause to excite them thereunto. The meanest subject following the mill, may be as thankful as the greatest monarch sitting upon the throne. But between the effects of their thanks, there is as broad a difference, as between the acts of a giant and a cripple, whose fortitude may yet be equal. A private man praiseth God upon a ten-stringed, a king upon a ten thousand stringed, instrument, upon the loud-sounding organs, having so many milhons of pipes, as there be men to whom his authority or example reacheth. The fruits of Constantine, Theodosius, and such good emperors' gi*atitudes, have been religion planted and promoted, churches erected, idolatiy suppressed, wholesome laws enacted and executed, which makes divines doubt whether such kings were well advised, ='■= though much applauded in story, who upon victories obtained, not laid down only, but wholly laid off their crowns, and resigned their kingdoms to God, not considering they might better have

* Elethan Rex Ethiopum (Niceph li. 17). Fernandus Rex Castili» (Rodericus de rebus Hispanicig, lib. 4. Fox, torn. i. Martyrolog).

paid their thanks to him in kind, as kings, than in private devotions, as monks. Da\dd was, therefore, a man after God's own heart, not because a king, but because a thankful kmg ; the sweet singer of Israel, not for his poetry or music, but for his gi'ateiul hjinns, composed and sung to God's praise upon every fresh occasion ; and he calls upon princes and rulers three times in one verse, because they have three times the cause that subjects have, who have but a single share in those blessings, which jointly meet in the head of sovereignty. He often puts the thorn to his breast, as if he found some oblivion there, or unwillingness; -1= yea, he often calls upon the angels, either implying the worth of the work, or else that the best alacrity may admit excitation. Alphonsus, that renowned king, f in a speech to the pope's ambassador, professeth he did not so much wonder at his courtiers' ingi-atitude to him, who had raised sundiy of them from mean to great estates, as at his own to God. How acceptable an offering shall this be to God, if it may kindle the least spark, or rather blow those coak aheady flaming in your royal breast, or testify our gi-atefulness to him for his infinite old and new favours to yom' majesty's person, and thereby to your kingdoms ! For all defects in it, the title pleads pardon and acceptance. Even God himself allowed a female in peace-ofl'erings, not admitted in other kinds. Gratitude hath set a price upon mean presents. The form of a sermon will not disparage the subject-matter. The best monument of Constantine's government is a grateful sermon, recorded at large by Eusebius in his tenth, whose blessed and much honoui'ed days, God make yours equal, and exceed in length and happiness ! So humbly and heartily prays.

Your Majesty's most loyal and thankful Subject,

SAMUEL WAED.

• Attg. In Vs. cxlv. Qnasi tacentes invenerit angelos, hortatar qni tamen nnii' qnani tacuerunt. t iEucas Sylvius, lib. iv. de dictis Alphonai:

A PEACE-OFFERING TO GOD;

OB,

A THANKSGIVINa EOE THE PEINCE'S SAFE EETUEK

In all things give thanks, for this is the ivill of God in Christ Jesus our Lord towards you. —1 Thess. V. 18.

May an herald find out a rich coat of arms ungiven, then may a dmne meet with a profitable subject unhandled. Gratitude, a virtue whose beauty so equally blazeth in the eyes of all,* whose name sounds so pleasantly in the ears of all, whose contrary is so odiously censured of all, to whom hath it been beholden for so much as a small tract or sermon ?f "What divine hath bestowed so much cost upon it, as to acquaint us with the nature, kinds, canons, and motives of it ? Men, I confess, had the use of logs before the art was penned ; and so David the king, of aU gi-ateful persons, with other the servants of God in all ages, have in abundant measure expressed their thankfulness ; yet no man will deny, but that rules and directions orderly collected and compiled, do much conduce to a more lively and certain practice, than wild and unguided aftections : and such helps God's Spirit in<ordinary despiseth not.

All that I shall upon this sudden and extraordinary cause of public thanks undertake, is to be as the wheel to the bird, which with its coar^ noise sets better music on work; and out of this short text of gratitude, endeavour to bring some light to the duty enjoined, * Give thanks.' Secondly, To shew the extent of its matter, ' In all things.' Thirdly, To enforce the practice from this motive of motives, ' For this is the will of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.'

Fourthly, To bring it home and apply it, ' Towards you.' In handling whereof, if I shall procure any whit the more tribute of thanks and praise to God, I shall attain that which is the queen of aU causes, the end of my labour, yea, that which is the queen of ah. ends, God's glor3^

' Give thanks.' The nature and grace of thankfulness consists in a kindly reflection of honom- upon the benefactor for the benefit received.

* Virtutum IfaTciitissimn, &c.—Sen.

t Basil enfitletli a homily, ■ Of giving thanks,' but the subject-matter is of bearing afflictions cheerfully.

Look what perfection a solid body ^vcs to the sunbeams, which having obscurely passed through the translucent air, are by it made to rebound with a spreading increase of their lustre and heat; look v.hat such an echo as the sevenfold porch of Thebes is to the sound of a trumpet; such is thankfulness to the benefactor. And therefore, in reference to parents, is the sum of piety ; to equals, of amity and humanity ; to God, of relif^on ; yea, the very prime and sum of all virtues and duties, because it most du-ectly and fully promotes and achieves that which is the end and scope of all the Creator's works and gifts, ' his glory.' * He that praiseth me honoureth me,' Ps. 1. ; and contrariwise, * They glorified not God, neither were they thankful,' Rom. i.

To discuss here these school queries,* whether it be a part of commutative or distributive justice, whether a general ^•irtue or special, distinct or confounded with piety and justice, whether voluntary or bounden, whether of debt and by law or mere honesty, whether the innocent or the penitent be more obliged, whether it may adequate or surpass the benefit, were to trouble your heads with frigid subtleties, instead ofwanningyour hearts with profitable matter. A thankful man had rather by ten times learn how to discharge this bond of needful duty, than to untie these knots of curious wit.

To such a one, I content myself to give the old tripartite rule, let him see that his soul, his tongue, and his lifef bear their parts, discharge their several offices in glorifying God, that so his thanks being cordial, oreal, and real,I they may be complete and accepted of God. And fu'st let them make sui-e of the j&rst, especially when he hath to do with God, the maker, searcher, and judge of spirits, who in these kinds of offerings loves the fat, and the inwards, Levit. iii. ; the deeper and hoUower the belly of the lute or viol is, the pleasanter is the sound; the fleeter, the more gi'ating and harsh in our ears: the voice which is made in the mouth, is nothing so sweet as that which comes from the depth of the breast. By how much spring water is better than plash water, by so much handy, hearty, than wordy tlianks. ' Sing with grace in your hearts,' is the best tune to all the Psalms, without which, if one could descant with the voice of an angel, he were but as the sound of a tinkhng cymbal. The very Alpha and Omega, the principal and total of our thanks with God, is as Bernard ends his epistles, and counsels to one that inquired of him what God required of man, ' Give me thy heart,' or keep all to thyself. If Benjamin come not, all the rest may stay behind. Unless, therefore, you mean to offer the sacrifice of fools, and the lips of calves, begin and end as David his Psalms, ' My soul, praise thou the Lord.' Take also David's commentary, Ps. ciii. ' And all that is within me, praise his holy name.'§ The fu-st work is of the understanding, to judge of the worth of the benefit, to consider the unworthiness of the receiver, to study a quid retribuam. A fool cannot, and a proud man will not, be thankful; the first, because he cannot estimate and weigh in the balance of judgment the value of the favour conferred upon him, or, through melancholy conceitedness, will not see what God hath done for him. The second, because he conceives it no more, if not less, than his due and desert, which is the reason that an heretic, overweeuing the strength of his naturals, or the merit of his works, cannot be thankful; which taught Prosper wittily and wisely to entitle his poems, Contra ingratos,

* Vide Thomam secunda secundte qnestione centesima sexta. t Corde, ore, opere. Bradward, lib. ii. c. 23. j Conscientia lingua, vita. Aug. in Ps. cxlviii. § Tota estimatio ud animuni rudit. Sen.

"without further naming the adversaries of God's grace. A rash man cannot be thankful, who for a fit only and brunt, sends up an extemporary

* God be thanked,' whereas he ought fixedly and seriously to study and devise how he might cast most honour upon his good God for his bounty to him.

The second care must be had of the memory, that a deep impression be made, frequent refreshing and refrication be used with David's watchword, ' My soul, forget not all his benefits,' which made him write down his passions, and give his Psalms the title o{Record, or Remembrance. Oblivion is so far from excusing, that itself is the worst kind of ingratitude, excluding all hopes of future thanks, and arguing a slight esteem of favours past, which 80 soon have set them behind back, and out of sight in some blind corner of the mind. Our memory is a natural mother to injuries, a stepmother to benefits, for the help whereof our grateful forefathers were wont to erect pillars and monuments, stamp coins, give names to places, dedicate days, and keep anniversary feasts, that so they might preserve a vestal fire in their breasts, and not serve God with a flash of joy and blaze of thanks.

A third work is the warmth of the afiections, which if dead and cold, how can any fumes of incense ascend ? Excess of joy and gladness is instead of thanks, which the nearer it comes to a rapture and ecstasy (such an one as Peter was in, when he wot not what he said, or the Jews coming out of captivity, faring as one in a di-eam); the more pleasing it is unto God, though it express itself in abrupt and exorbitant passions and gestures, such as David's dancing, unseemly in foolish Michal's, but most comely and Mngly in God's eyes.

These acts of the soul are often all that God requires, but always the hest fountain and spring of thanks, which sets the price upon the offering, and makes the turtle of the poor as welcome as the ox of the rich, the cruse and mite of the widow more worth than the rivers of oil and treasures of the wicked.

All this is intrinsical and immanent thanks; but God's favours are too great for one man's heart to comprehend or requite ; and therefore he will not have them die in the breast of one man, and lie buried in silent admiration, but requires a transitive expression and publication of them. How many aids and witnesses doth David summon to assist him in this work, the mountains to leap, the floods to make a noise, the hills to clap their hands, and which of his musical instruments doth he not call upon ? Sundry helps and signs of thankfulness hath nature and art found out and used ; ringing of bells, displaying of banners, pomp and feasting, lights and fires, which while some condemn, they come near his fault that asked,

* What meaneth this waste ?' Yet are all these but a poor and senseless kind of sacrifice, performed by reasonless deputies, if the thanks determine and end in these without more significant expression. Cheer of the countenance, gestures of the body, leaping and dancing, are but dumb shows ; the best interpreter of the mind is the tongue, the glory of man andglorifier of God. ' My tongue shall teU of thy wondrous acts, and my hps shall never cease to publish thy praise.' This was all the fee Christ expected for his cures, ' Go and tell what God hath done for thee.' Words seem to be a poor and slight recompence, but Christ (saith Nazianzen) called himself the Word, and good words coming fi'om a good heart are of great account and force with God and man.

David envied the birds, that might in their kinds sing God's praise in his courts; and in imitation of them, who set themselves on the highest tops of

trees, whence their notes may be furthest heard, he laboured to spread God's praises in the greatest congregations, in Saul's court, in all companies he came in, in the temple itself. By speech one man's heart conveys into another the cheerly conceptions and passions of his soul, and bo multiplies praise, and sets others on work to bless God with him; and the more the merrier ; and the more mirth, the more thanks ; the greater the flock, the cheerlior noise; the fuller the choir, the louder the music, and one cheerly bird often sets all the flock a chirping. One man shouts and the whole host follows. John heard a voice from the throne saying, ' Praise ye oiu: God, all his servants, small and gi-eat; and immediately a noise as of many waters and mighty thunders saying, Halelujah, for the Almighty reigneth.'

Yet, because speech is transient, and of life for the present only, the pens and writings of thankful men have been of singular use to transmit and convey unto posterity the noble acts of God ; one generation teaching another to keep like praises in store, that God's thanks may be immortal in succession and propagation. Such fruit may our statute have in after ages, penned for the perpetuation of God's invaluable deliverance from the hellish powder-plot, were it as duly read as it was providently enacted.

When we have given God good words, it remains that we give him not words alone, but our real obedience, preferred by God to all our sacrifices; slay not our beasts, but our beastly lusts; give him not our goods, but ourselves ; not any dead, but a living and seasonable sacrifice. * He that in way of thankfulness vows and performs the mortification of one darling sin, the addition of one good duty, pleaseth God better than Solomon with his twenty thousand beeves and sheep. Would we know, then, how we should perfect our thanks, walk we with God, let us do righteousness, abound in alms and prayer, better our piety and charity, increase the works of our callings, bring forth more fruit in our kinds; for with such sacrifices God is most honom-ed and best pleased. The ancient and wonted thanks after victories and blessings were reformation of vices, removal of idols, sanctions and executions of good laws, release of debts, bounty to the poor.f The life of thankfulness consists in the hves of the thankful; otherwise it is but as one should sing a good song with his voice, and play a bad one on his iustrimient, which would make but a black Sanctis, and become such saints. He that saith, * God be thanked' with his mouth, and his life remains reprobate to every good work, hath the show of thanks, but the power of ingi-atitude, and is near the curse of the fig tree, full of leaves and empty of fruit; for God is not mocked with words. Wherefore, 0 thou vain man, justify thy words by thy works, and thou shalt be blessed in thy deeds, and God by the poor blessed for them, who hath himself no need or profit of our works ; but, as great men, turns over his fees and thanks to his poor followers and servants, and tells us in plain terms he reckons that done to himself which is done to the least of his; and smells as sweet a savour of Cornelius's alms as of his prayers, and counts himself as much honoured by a good housekeeper as by a church-frequenter; but best by him that is both in truth and from faith. A new eong | becomes

• Per victimas caro aliena, per obedientiam, propria voluntas mactatur.

t Non sola vox sonet, sed et mauus coiisouet; verbis facta coucordaut, quando cantas hakhijuh, mauum porrigaa esurienti.—Aug. iu Ps. cxlix.

I Canticum novum et vetus homo male concordant, cautet canticum novum qui nova est creatuni, qui novam prsestat obedientiam.—Aug. in Ps. cxlix. Cui lingua tua laudes Dei cautillat, cujus vita sacrcligium cxhalat.— Idem, iu Ps. xxiii.

not tlie old man's mouth ; and let him sing a new song that leads a new hfe, and that's the best harmony, and makes the best music in God's ear.

' In all things.' Now I have shewed how thou mayest and must be thankful. If thou ask me wherein, or for what, I will ask thee what thou hast of thine own, and what of right and desert ? If nothing, then ' in all things give thanks.' We have heard that a thankful man needs a good judgment; but we shall see that he needs no invention ; if his heart be in tune, all things will bring matter to hand. Gratitude is as large as logic, that hath for its object things that are, and that are not. There be favours privative, and favours positive ; there be good things bestowed and evils kept from us ; yea, the very evils that do betide us are turned to our good, and therefore we are bound to give thanks in all, and for all. Not with a collective thanks by lump and wholesale, with a ' God be thanked for all his benefits,' but distributively keeping a bill of the particulars, and duly thanking as we daily receive them. This distribution is best made by a just gradation and scale of discretion, ascending in our thanks according to the degi'ees of his favours.

First, he will be praised in all his creatures, whereof we have the sight or the use, even as if we had a propriety in them ; for every one of us have no less benefit by the sun and air, than if we saw and breathed alone. The Hebrews have a canon, that God would be praised in the least emmet or gnat, but magnified in the elephant and leviathan; admired in the sun, moon, stars, comets, earthquakes, thunders, and such extraordinary works. The praise of his wisdom and power lies asleep and dead in every creature, till man actuates and enlives it.* The heavens and the earth, and all things therein, are said to praise God; that is (saith Augustine) when thou con-siderest their order and beauty, and praisest the invisible Creator, they praise him with thy understanding and thy voice, which have none of their own, but are dumb and senseless.f

In all the works of his provident administration. And here let pubHc blessings have the precedency in thy thanks. It is not only self-love, but want of judgment, that makes fools prize a domestical and private welfare before the commonwealth, and the good of the kingdom, which is in itself the greater, and would, in the long run, be greater to the particular man. Is any cost bestowed on the private cabin comparable to the saving of the whole ship ? The very heathens rejoiced more in their country's good than in their own ; let Christians much more praise God for theii' kings, princes, and rulers, by whose wise government they may live a quiet life under their vines and fig trees, and in all honesty and godliness worship God in their chapels and chui-ches.

In all thy personal favours ; among which the privative challenge a place, that is, such evils as pass by and over thee. Famous is the story of the good bishop, that, seeing a toad by the way, lift up his heart unto God, that made him not such a creature. And Chrysostom wills us to walk into hospitals and lazar-houses,| that, by the sight of other's miseries, we may be occasioned to thanks for our o-wti freedom. Every man that sees another stricken, and himself spared, is to keep a passover for himself.

In all the crosses that do befal us ; yea, happily more than in them we count and call blessings. To call for afilictions, we have no precedent or precept in Scripture ; but to praise God for them, store of both. To count

* RaymunduB in Theologia naturali.

t August, in Ps. xlviii., Tua voce clamat, &c.

j Clirysost. ad Stagorium.—Epist. 3.

it exceeding joy because of the exceeding gain ; to count it an honour that we are counted worthy to suffer, as the disciples that leaped and sung after their scourgiugs; and in this theme Basil spends all his sermon, which ho entitles giving of thanks in all things.

In all the gifts of God, whether for necessity or pleasure, of nature or of grace, temporal or eternal, more for necessities than for delicacies, more for thy bread and water than for thy wine and oil, for thy clothes than for thy lace and ornaments, for thy health more than thy wealth, for thy good name above thy jewels, the goods of thy soul above all goods. Plato observed this order in his thanks, that he was a man, a Grecian, an Athenian, aiid Socrates's scholar; Alphonsus, that he was a king, a philosopher, and a Christian; Theodosius, more that he was a member of Chi'ist in his church, than head of the empire ; Paul best of all, ' Blessed be God, that hath blessed us with spiritual blessings in heavenly things.' One spuitual is better than all corporal, and one eternal than all temporal.

In all thy spiritual blessings, preparations, preventions, excitations, motions, acts, confirmations, consummations, give all to the praise of his grace, by which thou art that thou art; chiefly in those thou hast most wanted and earnestly begged, in these let thy praises answer thy prayers. Samuel and Augustine, children of many prayers and fears, were also children of many praises and thanks.

In all and above all, for him that is all in all, thanks and praises. For he is worthy who hath redeemed us, and made us kings and priests unto himself; and if thanks be the will of God in Jesus Christ towai'ds us, then sure I am it is his ^\^ll, that all thanks be given him for Jesus CLiist, in whom all the promises are yea and amen.

In all things, in all times, and in all places ; so the very context imphes. Pray always, in all things give thanks. Wish with Epictetus, thou wert of the nightingale's unwearied spu'it, ever to be singing day and night; at least, with Bernard, imitate the other birds, w'hich morning and evening, at the rise and setting of the sun, omit not to praise their Creator. These must be constant, set, and inviolable times. Occasional times are when benefits are newly received, which otherwise soon wax stale, and putrefy as fish; no pai't of the thanks-offering might be kept unspent till the third day. Hezekiah wrote his song the third day after his recovery: ' The living shall praise thee as I do this day.' And if he had been as speedy in his thanks after his deUverance from Ashur, it may be (saith Lavater) his plate had never been carried into Babylon. All days of prosperity and mirth are seasonable for thanks, as birds sing more in clear days than in gloomy. Let him that is sad, pray, and he that is merry, give thanks. The Jews' three solemn feasts were to be kept in three cheerful seasons :* the passover, at the first riping of com; Whitsuntide, at the first reaping; tabernacles, at the end of harvest. God loves a cheerful giver. Christ willed his passion should be remembered when oiu* spirits are refreshed with bread and wine. 'I will take the cup of salvation,' kc. Our joy, which otherwise is a slippery passion, is then safe and sanctified, when it brings forth thanksgiving.

Were it not now superfluous to say to whom this thanks ought to be given ? To whom, but to him of whom we have all things ? Yet we had rather change the name, and shift the debt to any save the right creditor, ascribing events to nature, destiny, and fortune, rather than to the hving God; which is as if one should say, be owed no money to Seneca, but to • Isidor. in Levit. Theodoret.

Lucius Annasus, wliicli are but blind names of the same man. What is more common than to rob God to pay the instrument ? The fisher sacri-ficeth to his net, the husbandman will thank his dunghill for his crop, rather than him that gives the increase. God allows some praise to the instrument. The sword of God and the sword of Gideon ; but when he hears us give more to the means than to the author, he is jealous, and offended more justly than Saul with the people, for singing of David's ten thousand, and Saul's thousand. Let Solomon have his thousand, and the keeper of the vine two hundred. Cant. iii. Adrian and Verus, emperors of old, Selimus and Ferdinand of late, are taxed in history for erecting monuments of victory to their horses, forgetting the Lord of hosts. Let us learn of Paul, in right down terms, in all things to bless the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Thus all things invite us to thanks ; and yet Paul, foreseeing our back-•wardness and excuses, opposeth to them all the will of God in Jesus Christ, * For this is the will of God.' The ungrateful, like unto the sluggard, is witty in filiding out pretexts and pretences, making a clog to hinder of that which should be his goad to quicken him. God's name, he will tell you, excels all thanksgiving, his blessings are innumerable, and why should he attempt impossibilities ? And yet the same man, in seeking of wealth and honour, will shoot at the fairest mark, though he take up his arrow short. Here, unless he may do all, he wdll do nothing at all; but God's will is, thou shouldst do thy good will, and he mil accept thy will for the deed. And if thou shouldst say in thy heart. What addition shall my praise make to his honour, that is infinite and self-sufficient?* was he not as happy before there was a man or angel to praise him, as since ? I might answer with a schoolman,! he counts it an increase ad extra, in the notice and gloiy of his attributes, though ad intra, in the perfection and excellence of tiiem, he cannot increase. But I had rather answer with our apostle, * It is his will.' But we have need of his benefits; if he will allow us the profit, we may well allow him the praise; our emptiness calls for the one, and to his fulness belongs the other. Bradwardine, as thankful an English heart as ever wrote, knits and imties the knot thus: 'WTiy should I go about to pay that debt which is vmpayable, and by paying whereof I run farther in debt ? for the gi-ace and heart, the will and ability to be thankful, is his gift; and for that I must be further obliged, as David when he built the temple. But God forbid, saith he, that I should entangle mine heart in this chain of iirgratitude, and break asimder this my bond of thanks, because I cannot unloose it. Let me rather know this to be my happiness, to whom I owe much, to owe more ; to be as deep in his books as I can, who loves to water where he plants, to heap favour upon favour, till he overcome us with favour; to him let me be ever owing, and ever paying, never discharged, but ever becoming more and more thankftil, till I be wholly transformed into thankfdness, and when all is done, account myself indebted and unprofitable.];

' For this is God's will in Jesus Christ.' God's will hath binding authority enough; but he adds a winning word, his * will in Christ,' commending the duty to us from God by that lovely name. The force of the persuasion is, as if God should say to us, Behold, I have so loved you, as

* Nee deterior si vitnperatur, nee melior si laudatur.—Bernard, t Eaymundus de Naturali Theolog.

X Bradward. de causa dei, lib. 3, cap. 23. Gratissimis gratitudinis vinculis alligor ut gratior, et gratior fiam taudemque in gratias gratissime transformer.

to give you my Son, and -with him all things; and what return do I expect? ■what is my will, but that in all things you give me thanks in his name ? Thanks is my will, and pleaseth my will, as sweet odours do man's nostrils. Gratitude needs not, as other yirtues, letters testimonial, or commendatory. David often tells us it is comely and lovely enough of itself. Prayer is proiit;i]ile, but praise is honourable. To ask is a troublesome thing,* and a mendicant word implying want, and therefore comes hardly and liarshly from us; but praise becomes the angels, yea, the Son of God, and therefore should be welcome to us, It is a grace and praise to him that gives, as well as to him to whom it is given. How renowned in all story hath been the practice of this virtue in David to Jonathan's, Abimelech's, and Bar-zillai's posterity; in Joseph to his parents ; in Hannah (more honoured for being the author of a song than the mother of a son) ; in Cromwell's to Frescobald ; Agrippa to Thaumastus's servant, for a cup of cold water in his troubles; Egehcd to the swineherd;! yea, in brute beasts, in lions,! dragons,§ eagles, and falcons; in elephants, fishes, dogs. The contrary most hateful: in Judas, Aliithophel, Pharaoh's butler, &c., not actionable, or finable by any legal or set mulct, as sufticiently censurable, but deserving, and left to excess of hatred by God's judgment, and so generally reputed of all, the sum of all disgrace, the worst, yea, all that can be said of a man; say this, and say all; the main sin of the apostate angels and damned spirits. Thanks the chief, if not the whole, work of the glorified seraphims, who vent and spend all their burning fire in the flames of God's praise. How cheerfully should we redeem time to this blessed work! || which, because it is too large to be done in this span-long life, it shall ever be doing in that eternity. What like evidence hath a saint, of God's fi'ee and princely spirit residing in his heart and tongue, to this frankincense, and free work, wherein our ingenuity is best tried, not extorted from us by our own necessities, as prayer; not exacted by law, or di'awn by shame or penalty from us, but voluntary, and therefore best testifying us to be of God's willing people: which gi'ace, where ho gives, surely he will confer more of all kinds. For where do men deUght to sow, but in fertile soils, where they reap most ? Where do musicians delight to sound their instruments, but where the echo multiplies them most in their return ? But our profit is too sordid a motive for this liberal virtue. Thanks is not thanks, if bribing and eyeing futui-e favour, if anything more than the praise of past bounty, though there should never be need or receipt of any more afterwards. But our dulness hath need of aU spurs. David, the nightingale of Israel, sets many a thorn to his breast; that vigilant cock clappelh oft his own wings. An ingenuous child desires no more but to know what his father loves. Isaac, if his diet be known, shall be sure of venison enough ; and if Saul take delight in David's harp, he shall not want music. A grateful courtier desires but to know what the will and pleasure of his sovereign is : and this is enough, and above all other bonds, to a man sensible of the benefits of creation and redemption. What else is the difference and preeminence of the gospel above the law, but thanks the one and debt the other ? Which made Ursinus judiciously give his book of obedience and good works the title of Gratitude: which whoso slights or neglects undoes

* Molestissimum istud verbum Togo. —Sen.

t Fox, torn. i. % Agell. lib. x. cap. 5.

§ Pierius, lib. xix. Strabo, lib. v. Philarchus apuJ Athenapum. Gesnerus, &c. II Sit ilia meditatio frequena in hoc saeculo ijuod opus erit in future.—Aug. Pa. •xlviii.

and dissolves the whole bond of perfection, not of humanity alone, but of aU Christianity. God abhorring all that "sve can do with other respect or end, bidding the proud man and his merits perish, done in way of desert or pay; only accepting that which is done in the name of Christ, in way of thankfulness for him and his merit, who is the altar which sanctifies and graceth the gold and the gift, to the homs whereof it is best binding with the cords of thanks all our offerings: who is the great master of requests, having a golden vial ready to ofier up, and commend to his Father all the incense of his saints, and to give a sweet odour and perfume unto them, making the least cup of water tendered in his name of precious account, without which all is abominable. And therefore he that would set a special gloss upon his sacrifice of thanks, let him, with the acknowledgment of his vdeness (as David, ' Who am I and my people ?'), crave acceptance in his name, in whom God is well pleased; for ' this is his will in Christ Jesus our Lord,' &c.

That thanks in tJiesi and general, is God's wiU, it is now out of question; but there is yet another clause in my text, ' towards you,' which bids us search what is God's will in liijpothesi, in particular. * Towards us :' even to uswards of this nation, this assembly, towards thee and me, all and every one of us jointly and severally. First, It is requisite that we take good notice of our receipts, and then balance them well with our retm-ns; and so shall we see oui- aiTearages best, and what remains for us to do. Mark we advisedly what our own writers, historians, poets, usually applaud in our nation. How they extol om- climate, our soil, our native commodities, our policies, laws, orders, peace, plenty, prosperity, terming us Albion, quasi Olhion; Angli, quasi AngeU. Can too much in truth be spoken to the praise of God's bounty, and blot of our ingi'atitude ? How hath he lifted us up to heaven, severed this island with the seas of his mercies firom all the world besides, and bordering kingdoms round about, setting it as a queen in the midst of them, to hear news of wars, pestilence, bloodshed, and desolations, not to feel the least disturbance from within and without, scarce to hear a dog bark against its long-lontinued peace, unmatchable in present or past examples. Above all, what a golden candlestick hath he placed in it, furnished with oil and lamps, I would I could say in every shaft and pipe of it; but so as I may well resemble it to a bright sky in a clear evening sparkling with stars, though not in every part, yet in every zone and quarter of it! "What times can tell of the like light, learning, preaching, knowledge ? 0 that I could say practice and thankfulness answerable! "WTiat a hedge or wall of fire and protection hath God made about us! WTiat glorious salvations from foreign invasions,* from domestical treasons,f such as will scarce be credible to after ages. J: Was Israel itself ever honoui-ed with more ? To aU these, when for a while of late we were in a damp of grief and fear in the absence of our prince for a season, how suddenly hath he blown over that cloud! How speedily and happily hath he returned him, that we fare as people as in a dream, can scarce tell how to believe ourselves, or how to express our joys enough ! How hath he filled our hearts with gladness ! 0 that I may be able truly to say, our tongues with praise, and our lives with duties. In this fresh and last favour of his, he deals, methinks, with us as creditors with slow debtors:

* 1588. (The year of the Spanish Armada.— Ed.) t 1605. (The year of the Gunpowder Plot.— Ed.)

% Factum est hoc a Domino, mirifico in consiliis, magnifico in operibus, et est mirahile in oculis nostris.

wliero they have advcnturcil much, tboy will sometime shoot another arrow, in hope to find and make good theu* former losses ; as Seneca counsels Lis Ebutius to imitate the husbandman, who never leaves husbanding and manuring the barren ground, till ho make it fertile, to heap benefit on benefit, till ho awaken his unthankful friend, overcome him with kindness, and in the end, by some welcome good turn, excite his duluess, and extort thanks by that for all the former fi-om him. I would I were as sure God should speed of his end, as I am sure this is his end, to put us to the blush for our former ingratitude, to win us at length to pay our debts and vows unto him. Some, and sundry of all sorts, great and mean, ho hath, I doubt not, among us, gi'atcful observers and receivers of his blessmgs, like a few berries after the shaking of a tree, which makes him forbear to lay the axe to the root for a while : but the common thanks which ho reaps at the hand of the multitude, is lukewaimness and neutrality at the best; in many, lingerings after superstition and idolatry; in the worser sort, desperate swearing, dissolute Sabbath keeping, brutish diimkenness and uncleanness, falsehood in dealings till all burst again, vanity in fashion-following, without shamo or modesty. These are the dregs of our times, and blots of our feasts, which, if not amended, may not a withdraught of all God's favours, a removal of his candlestick, the worst of all plagues, be as certainly foreseen and foretold, as if visions and letters were sent us from heaven, as to the seven churches of Asia ? But I hope better things of our better sort, and love as little as may be to have mine eye and finger upon such sores, wishing we might see such a book-fire as we read of Acts xvii., made of all om* clandestine libels, seditious and malcontented pamphlets. I speak not against the precious balm of reproof, no, not oil of scorpions. Let the righteous smite us with plain and faithful rebukes, and such smitings shall not wound the body, or break the head, but shew us our defects without rancour and malice, pom-ing in no poison and venom, but oil and wine to heal our woimds, to excite us to thankfulness worthy the blessings heaped and renewed daily upon us ; and what is the best thanks, but national and personal amendment of life ? And what thanks is enough, what hecatombs of sacrifices are sufficient for a God that hath done so much for us, and yet ceaseth not to do us good ? I would know of the most ungrateful man, what he can require of us more than he hath richly and abundantly deserved, were it to half, yea, to all the wealth of the kingdom '? I take not upon me to prescribe particulars. But suppose he should exact of us this particular, which, I dare say, would highly pleaso him, and would, I am sm-e, bo a most worthy and needful fruit of our gratitude to him. I will not mention a ceremonial, circumstantial, superfluous matter of form and order, but a necessaiy substantial amends of what all confess to be amiss; a provision, I mean, of a sufficient maintenance and minister in every parish of the kingdom, a righting of what popery hath wronged, a restitution of what religion first consecrated, superstition misplaced, covetousness wholly alienated and impropriated. This could not in likelihood but prove a cure to all the maladies, spiritual and temporal, a dispelling of our Egyptian fogs, a dispersing of the frogs that yet remain as thorns in our sides, a quickening to all good woias of piety and charity, a goad and spur to all kinds and fruits of thankfulness that God can require of us. Have I spoken of more than ho requires, or we need, or of that which is impossible ? The last will bo the only plea, but withal the plea only of our ingratitude and infidelity, not disability. Is it harder now to restore, than at first to give ? When God stin-ed up his»

people's affections, their princes and priests were fain to set mortmains and bounds to their bounty, and stay their hands from giving more. What were a subsidy or two for God and his church ? If God give us hearts, wood and the sacrifice will soon be found, and brought to hand; and till this be done, a just brand of ingratitude lies upon us. It is impossible for any explication to extend to every particular. If every soul would study thankfulness, God would direct to the best duties. If every Englishman would kindle a bonfire in his own heart, how would the flame break out, and shine abroad, and the smoke ascend up to the heavens ! If every thankful man would take up his harp, and sing and play with his tongue and hand a new song of thanks, how loud and full melody would it make ! what joy would be on the earth, yea, in the heavens, to see our thankfulness and amendment. It is but every man's labour to sweep before his own door, and every man's fagot to this fire, and the work were done, and God pleased. ' Give unto the Lord,' you potentates, ' glory and strength;' give unto the Lord, ye sons of the mighty, worship and praise due to his name. You house of Aaron, and you that serve him in his courts, praise ye the Lord, and stir up others to praise him. Let Israel, and all that fear him, say, ' His mercy endureth for ever.' Whatever others shaU do, * My soul, praise thou the Lord.'

A POSTSCRIPT TO THE READER.

A THANKFUL man is worth his weight in the gold of Ophir. Could I be aa thankful as I ought to be, which sure I am I never shall be, yet can the thanks of a mean man procure but mean honom* to God. Could I be as thankful as is possible for any one man to be, yet single thanks is like a single voice, which makes but simple music. But could I stir up thankful intentions and affections in every reader,—for example, in thy heart whose eye is now upon this advice,—then wouldst thou also endeavour to work the like in others; and so a small number, by multiplication, might prove a large sum, as a great debt is often paid by a collection fi*om many hands which one poor man's ability could never have reached unto. That we may be aright thankful, it is requisite that with one eye we observe our sins and evils, both public and personal, and with the other our favours and blessings, that the one may acquaint us with our unworthiness, the other may prevent malcontented ungi'atefulness. Many a man would be much more thankful than he is, if he had but a hint of excitation and help of direction ; as many a scholar, if he had but a few heads of commonplaces, would be rich in observations, which, for want of such a slight help, vanish in the reading and perish in the meditating. Behold, therefore, I give thee here a register or inventory, which I wish thee to keep and use as a table of thanks due to God in kind, and negligently by thee paid; which, when thou perusest, thou must, under every head in the space left of purpose, record, not all and every favour, which is impossible, but the most memorable and thankworthy, putting a special Selah of thanks upon them, as David upon his deliverance from the bear, lion, and Goliah. It cannot but revive thy memoiy and quicken thy affections so often as thou shalt seriously review it.

A THANKFUL MAN'S CALENDAR.

Public. —Consider in what times and places the lot of my hTc hath fallen ; in what king's reign, in what nation, in what toNvn, under what magistracy and ministry.

Domestical. —What parents, schoolmasters, and tutors, what wife, children, and servants, hath God blessed mo withal ?

Personal and Privative. —What sickness have I been delivered from ? What dangers, casualties by sea or land? What suits and vexations by law or otherwise ?

Positive, Corporal. —What measure of health and strength of body ?

External. —What talents of wealth, birth, office, authority, repute ?

Mental. —Wliat faculties of understanding, memory? What helps of arts, sciences, education? &c.

When and how my conversion to God was wrought ? Wliat assurance of God's love in Christ, what peace and joy in the Holy Ghost? Sec.

What progress, gi-owth, and increase have I made in grace, and in good duties of my place and calling ?

^Vhat victory over tentations and special sins, old and inveterate customs of evil ?

When thoTi hast written down some particulars, then minister these in-terrogatives between God and thyself to thy conscience :—

What times fonnerly, or now usually, do I take to ponder and take notice of God's blessings ? What daily observation make I of them ? How many hours spend I weekly or monthly in revolving the memoiy of them ? What occasion take I to speak of them in company, to God's gloiy rather than mine own ostentation ?

What gain have my talents brought into my Master's banks ?

"\Vhat benefit have my brethi-en by them ? Of what use is my life, parts of mind and body, &c., to my country, church, or commonwealth?

What alms and good deeds have I done or intend to do ?

What shall I render to God for all his benefits ? How shall I add to my former thankfulness ? What good service may I do him more than I have, that men may glorify my heavenly Father ?

BRADWAKDINI GRATA AD DEUM PRECATIUNCULA, LIB. 3, DE CAUSA DEI.

Da mihi mendicanti et misero, qui tuus sum magis quam mens, imo non mens sed tuus, ut tlbi Patri luminum, cujus dona gratuita sunt omnes boni motus, actus, habitus, carentia) malorum actuum, bona positiva, privativa, gratias, quaj mihi posibilcs sunt agam maximas gi-atissimus. Da ut facilius corde ct opere faciam quam ore proferam. Da, itenim atque itenim precor, nihil ut mihi dulcius sit et delectabilius quam hajc efiectuosissime aUectuo-sissime adimplcre, incessanter semper sed ubique ab aitenio in a3tcmum. Amen.

Quoties tentatio superatur, periculum declinatur, vitium subjugatur, annosa et inveterata animi passio sanatur, laqueus dc}n-ehouditur, aut multum cupita virtus obtinctur, totics personare debet vox laudis ad siugula bencficia.—Bcrnai'dus in Cant. Senn. I.

Atjgust. in PsAIj.

Qviid est, tota die impleatur os meum laudihm ? Sine intermissione to laudem, in prosperis quia consolaris, in adversis quia corrigis, antequam essem quia, ^■Rcisti, quum essem quia salutem dedisti, quum peccassem quia ignovisti, &c.

WOE TO DRUNKARDS.

To whom is woe 1 To whom is sorrow ? To ii'hom is strife ? dc. In the end it will bite like a serpent, and sting like a cockatrice. — Prov. XXIII. 29, 32.

Seer, art thou also blind ? Watchman, art thou also drunk or asleep ? Isa. xxi.; or hath a spirit of slumber put out thine eyes ? Up to thy watch-tower ; what descriest thou ? Ah, Lord ! what end or number is there of the vanities which mine eyes are weary of beholding ? But what seest thou ? I see men walking like the tops of trees shaken with the wind, like masts of ships reehng on the tempestuous seas. Drunkenness I mean, that hateful night-bird, which was wont to wait for the twilight, to seek nooks and comers, to avoid the hooting and wonderment of bovs and girls. Now, as it were some eaglet, to dare the sunhght, to fly abr;aJ at high noon in every street, in open markets and fairs, without fear or shame, without control or punishment, to the disgrace of tlie nation, the outfacing of magistracy and ministry, the utter undoing (without timely prevention) of health and wealth, piety and virtue, town and countiy, church and commonwealth. And dost thou, like a dumb dog, hold thy peace at these things ? Dost thou, with Solomon's sluggard, fold thine hands in thy bosom, and give thyself to ease and drowsiness, while the en\ious man causeth the noisomest and basest of weeds to overrun the choicest Eden of God ? Up and arise, lift up thy voice, spare not, and ciy aloud. What shall I cry ? Cry woe, and woe again, unto the crown of pride, the dninkards of Ephraim. Take up a parable, and tell them how it stingeth like the cockatrice, declare unto them the deadly poison of this odious sin. Shew them also the sovereign antidote and cure of it, in the cup that was drimk off by him that was able to overcome it. Cause them to behold the brazen serpent, and be healed. And what though some of these deaf adders will not be charmed nor cured, yea, though few or none of these swinish herd of habitual drunkards, accustomed to wallow in their mire, yea, deeply and irre-,coverably plunged by legions of devils into the dead sea of their filtliinoss, what if not one of them will be washed and made clean, but turn again to their vomit, and trample the pearls of all admonition undoi feet, yea, turn again, and rend their reprovers with scoffs and scorns, making josts and songs on their ale-bench; yet may some young ones be deterred, and stime novices reclaimed, some parents and magistrates awakened to prevent and suppress

VOL. III. F f

the spreading of this gangrene, and God have his work in such as belong to his grace. And what is impossible to the work of his grace ? Go to then now, ye drunkards, listen not what I, or any ordinary hedge-priest (as you style us), but that most wise and experienced royal preacher, hath to say unto you. And because you are a dull and thick-eared generation, he first deals with you by way of question, a figm'e of force and impression.* ' To whom is woe,' &c. You use to sa}^ Woe be to hypocrites. It is trae woe be to such, and all other witting and willing sinners ; but there are no kind of offenders on whom woe doth so palpably, inevitably attend as to you drunkards. You promise yourselves mirth, pleasure, and jollity in your cups; but for one drop of your mad mirth be sure of gallons and tuns of woe, gall, wormwood, and bitterness here and hereafter. Other sinners shall taste of the cup, but you shaU di'ink of the dregs of God's wrath and displeasure. ' To whom is strife ?' You talk of good fellowship and friendship, but wine is a rager and tumultuous make-bate, and sets you a quarrelling and meddling. When wit is out of the head, and strength out of the body, it tkrusts even cowards and dastards, unfenced and unarmed, into needless frays and combats. And then to whom are wounds, broken heads, blue eyes, maimed Hmbs ? You have a drunken by-word, ' Drunkards take no harm ;' but how many are the mishaps and untimely misfortimes that betide such, which, though they feel not in drink, they carry as marks and brands to their grave ? You pretend you diink healths, and for healths; but to whom are all kind of diseases, infirmities, deformities, pearled faces, palsies, di'opsies, headaches, if not to drunkards ?

Upon these premises he forcibly infers his sober and serious advice. Look upon these woful effects and evils of drunkenness, and look not upon the wine, look upon the blue womids, upon the red eyes it causeth, and look not on the red colour when it sparkleth in the cup, If there were no worse than these, yet would no wise man be overtaken with wine; as if he should say, What see you in the cup or di-ink, that countervaileth these dregs that lie in the bottom ? Behold, this is the sugar you are to look for, and the tang it leaves behind. Woe, and alas ! sorrow and strife, shame, poverty, and diseases, these are enough to make it odious, but that which followeth withal will make it hideous and fearful. For Solomon, duly considering that he speaks to men past shame and gi-ace, senseless of blows, and therefore much more of reasons and words, insisteth not upon these petty woes, which they, bewitched and besotted with the love of wine, wiU easily oversee and overleap, but sets before their eyes the direful end and fruit, the black and poisonful tail, of this sin. * In the end it stingeth like the serpent, it biteth hke the cockatrice' (or adder), saith our new translation.

AH interpreters agree that he means some most virulent serpent, whose poison is present and deadly.t All the woes he hath mentioned before were but as the sting of some emmet, wasp, or nettle, in comparison of this cockatrice, which is even unto death, death speedy, death painful, and woful death, and that as naturally and inevitably as opium procm-eth sleep, ■ as hellebore purgeth, or any poison killeth.

Three-forked is this sting, and threefold is the death it procureth to aU that are stung therewith. The first is the death of grace, the second is of the body, the third is of soul and body eternal. AU sin is the poison

* MsyaXTj rrig hoirriesug hs^yna. —Basil.

+ ^d^iMa-Kov^avuTri^prj^ov, (p^cao'zoTov, 6rj}.r,TriPiov. ' Novissirao tanquam serpens mordebit, et tanquam regulus punget.'—(Montanus et Mercerus.) ' Tamquam haemorrhois vel dipsas.'—(Tremelius.)

wherewithal the old serpent and red dragon envenoms the soul of man, but no sin (except it bo that which is unto death) so mortal as this, whictx though not ever unpardonubly, yet for the most part is also irrecoverably and inevitably imto death. Seost thou one bitten with any other snake, there is hope and help, as the father said of his sou, when ho had information of his gaming, of his prodigalit}', yea, of his whoring ; but when ho hoard that ho was poisoned with drunkenness, he gave him for dead, his case for desperate and forlorn. Ago and experience often cures the other; but this increaseth with years, and parteth not till death. Whoring is a deep ditch, yet some few shall a man see return and lay hold on the ways of life, one of a thousand, but scarce one drunkard of ten thousand. One, Ambrose mentions, and one have I known, and but one of all that ever I knew or heard of. Often have I been asked, and often have I inquired, but never could meet with an instance, save one or two at the most. I speak of drunkards, not of one drunken,=:= of such who rarely and casually have, Noah-like, been surprised, overtaken at unawares. But if once a custom, ever necessity. Wino takes away the heart, and spoils the brain, over-thi'ows the faculties and organs of repentance and resolution.f And is it not just with God, that he who will put out his natui-al light, should have his spiritual extinguished ? Ho that will deprive himself of reason, should lose also the guide and pilot of reason, God's Spirit and grace; he that will wittingly and willingly make himself an habitation of unclean spirits, should not dispossess them at his own pleasure ? Most aptly therefore is it translated by Trcmelius, hamonhois, which Gesner confounds with the dipsas, or thirst}' sei-pent, whoso poison breedeth such thirst, di'ought, and inflammation, like that of ratsbane, that they never leave drinking tiU they bm'st and die withal. Would it not gi'ieve and pity any Christian soul, to see a towardly hopeful yoimg man, well-natured, well-nurtured, stung with this cockatrice, bev/ailing his own case, crying out against the baseness of tho sin, inveighing against company, melting under the persuasions of fi'iends, yea, protesting against all enticements, vow, covenant, and seriously indent with himself, and his friends, for the relinquishing of it; and yet if he meet with a companion that holds but up his finger, he follows him as a fool to the stocks, and as an ox to the slaughter-house, having no power to withstand the temptation, but in he goes with him to tho tippling-house, not considering that its chambers are the chambers of death, and the guests, the guests of death ; and there ho continues as one bewitched, or conjured in a spell, out of which he retm-us not till he hath emptied his purse of money, his head of reason, and his heart of all his former seeming grace. There his eyes behold the strange woman, his heart speaketh perverse things, becoming heartless, as one (saith Solomon) in the heart of the sea, resolving to continue, and retmn to his vomit, whatever it cost him, to make it his daily work. 'I was sick, and knew it not. I was struck, and felt it not; when I awake, I will seek it yet stiU,' ver. 34, 35, And why indeed (without a miracle) should any expect that one stung with this %'iper should shake it oil', <aud ever recover of it again ? Yea, so far are they from recovering themselves, that they infect and become contagious and pestilent to all they come near; tho dragon infusing his venom, and assimilating his elves to himself in no sin so much as in this, that it becomes as good as meat and drink to them, to spend their wits and money, to compass ale-house after ale-house, yea, town after town, to transform others with their Circean cups, till they have made thum

* Do ebrioso, non de cbrio; cujus vivero est bibere.

t Priucipia loidit et cjcdit, Lominem in fungum et testudinem vertit.

brutes and swine worse than themselves. The adulterer and usurer desire to enjoy their sin alone, but the chiefest pastime of a drunkard is to heat and overcome others with wine, that he may discover their nakedness, and glory in their foil and folly. In a word, excess of wine and the spirit of grace are opposites: the former expels the latter out of the heart, as smoke doth bees out of the hive, and makes the man a mere slave and prey to Satan and his snares; when by this poison he hath put out his eyes, and spoiled him of his strength, he useth him as the Phihstines did Samson, leads him in a string whither he pleaseth, like a very di-udge, scorn, and make-sport to himself and his imps, makes him grind in the mill of aU kind of sins and vices. And that I take to be the reason why drunkenness is not specially prohibited in any one of the ten commandments, because it is not the single breach of any one, but in effect the violation of all and every one ; it is no one sin, but all sins, because it is the inlet and sluice to all other sins.* The devil having moistened and steeped him in his liquor, shapes him hke soft clay into what mould he pleaseth ; hsLYing shaken off his rudder and pilot, dashes his soul upon what rocks, sands, and syrtes he listeth, and that with as much ease as a man may push down his body with the least thrust of his hand or finger. He that in his right wits and sober mood seems religious, modest, chaste, courteous, secret; in his drunken fits swears, blasphemes, rages, strikes, talks filthily, blabs all secrets, commits folly, knows no difierence of persons or sexes, becomes wholly at Satan's command, as a dead organ to be enacted at his will and pleasure.! 0 that God would be pleased to open the eyes of some drunkard to see what a dunghill and carrion his soul becomes, and how loathsome effects follow upon this spiritual death, and sting of this cockatrice, which is the fountain of the other two following, temporal and eternal death.

And well may it be, that some such as are altogether fearless and careless of the former death, will yet tremble and be moved with that which I shall in the second place tell them. Among aU other sins that are, none brings forth bodily death so frequently as this, none so ordinarily slays in the act of sin as this. And what can be more horrible than to die in the act of a sin without the act of repentance ? I pronounce no definitive sentence of damnation upon any particular so dying; but what door of hope or comfort is left to their friends behind of their salvation ? The whoremaster, he hopes to have a space and time to repent in age, though sometimes it pleaseth God that death strikes Cosbi and Zimri napping, as the devil is said to slay one of the popes in the instant of his adultery, and carry him quick to hell. The swearer and blasphemer hath commonly space, though seldom grace to repent and amend ; and some rare examples stories afford, of some taken with oaths and blasphemies in their mouths. The thief and oppressor may live, and repent, and make restitution, as Zaccheus, though I have seen one slain right out with the timber he stole half an hour before; and heard of one that having stolen a sheep, and laying it down upon a stone to rest him, was ginned and hanged with the struggling of it about his neck. But these are extraordinary and rare cases. God sometimes practising martial law, and doing present execution, lest fools should say in their hearts, there were no God, or judgment; but conniving and deferring the most, that men might expect a judge coming, and a solemn day

* Omne vitium incendit et cletep:it, obstantem malis conatibus verecundiam re-tnovet —(Senec. Epist. 84.) El.irietas in se ciilpas complectitur omnes.

t Mnsto dolia ipsa rumpuntur, sic vino exajstuante quidquid in imo latet effertur. (Idem Ibidem.)

of judgment to come. But this sin of drunkenness is so odious to him, that he makes itself justice, judge, and executioner, slaying the ungodly with misfortune, bringing them to untimely, shameful ends in brutish and bestial manner, often in their own vomit and ordure; sending them sottish, sleeping, and senseless to hell, not leaving them either time, or reason, or grace to repent, and cry so much as ' Lord, have mercy upon us.' Were there (as in some cities in Italy) an office kept, or a record and register by every coroner in shires and counties, of such dismal events which God hath avenged this sin withal, what a volume would it have made within these few yeai's in this our nation ! How terrible a theatre of God's judgments against dmnkards, such as might make their heaiis to bleed and relent, if Dot their ears to tingle, to hear of a taste of some few such noted and remarkable examples of God's justice, as have come within the compass of mine own notice and certain knowledge; I think I should oftend to conceal them from the world, whom they may happily keep from being the like to others, themselves.

An alewife in Kesgrave, near to Ipswich, who would needs force three serving-men (that had been di-inking in her house, and were taking their leaves), to stay and drink the three outs first (that is, wit out of the head, money out of the purse, ale out of the pot), as she was coming towai-ds them with the pot in her hand, was suddenly taken speechless and sick, her tongue swollen in her mouth, never recovered speech, the thu-d day after died. This Sir Anthony Felton, the next gentleman and justice, with divers other eye-witnesses of her in sickness, related to me; whereupon I went to the house with two or three ■witnesses, inquu-ed the tmth of it.

Two servants of a brewer in Ipswich, drinking for a rump of a tm-key, struggling in their drink for it, fell into a scalding caldi-on backwards ; whereof the one died presently, the other lingeringly and painfully, since my coming^') Ipswich.

Anno lUli). A miller in Bromeswell coming home di-unk fi'om Wood-bridge (as he oft did), would needs go and swim in the mill-pond. His wife and servants, knowing he could not swim, dissuaded him, once by entreaty got him out of the water, but in he would needs go again, and there was drowned. I was at the house to inquire of this, and fomid it to be true.

In Barnwell, near to Cambridge, one at the sign of the plough, a lusty yoimg man, with two of his neighbours, and one woman in their company, agi-eed to drink a barrel of strong beer. They drunk up the vessel. Three of them died within four and twenty hours, the fourth hardly escaped, after great sicluiess. This I have under a justice of peace's hand, near dwelling, besides the common fame.

A butcher in Haslingfield, hearing the minister inveigh against dmnken-ness, being at his cups in the alehouse, fell a jesting and scoffing at the minister and his sermons. As he was drinking, the drink, or something in the cup, quackled him, stuck so in his throat that he could not get it up nor down, but strangled him presently.

At TiUingham, in Dengy Hundred, in Essex, three young men meeting to drink strong waters, fell by degrees to half pints. One fell dead in the room, and the other,* prevented by company coming in, escaped not without much sickness.

At Bungey, in Norfolk, three coming out of an alehouse in a very dark evening, swore they thought it was not darker in hell itself. One of them fell off the bridge into the water, and was drowned. The second fell off his * That id, ' the others.'— Ed.

horse. The third, sleeping on the ground by the river's side, was frozen to death. This have I often heard, but have no certain gi'ound for the truth of it.

A baihff of Hadly, upon the Lord's day, being drunk at Melford, would needs get upon his mare to ride through the street, affirming (as the report goes) that his mare would carry him to the devil. His mare casts him off, and broke his neck instantly. Reported by sundry sufficient witnesses.

Company drinking in an alehouse at Harwich in the night, over against one Mr Russel's, and by him, out of his window, once or twice willed tp depart. At length he came down, and took one of them, and made as if he would carry him to prison, who, drawing his knife, fled from him, and was, three days after, taken out of the sea, with the Imife in his hand. Related to me by Mr Russel himself, mayor of the town.

At Tenby, in Pembrokeshhe, a drunkard being exceeding drunk, broke himself all to pieces off an high and steep rock in a most fearful manner, and yet the occasion and circumstances of his fall so ridiculous as I think not fit to relate, lest in so serious a judgment I should move laughter to the reader.

A glazier in Chancery Lane, in London, noted foi-merly for profession, fell to a common course of drinking, whereof, being oft by his wife and many Christian friends admonished, yet presuming much of God's mercy to himself, continued therein, till upon a time, having surcharged his stomach with drink, he fell a vomiting, broke a vein, lay two days in extreme pain of body and distress of mind, till in the end, recovering a little comfort, he died. Both these examples related to me by a gentleman of worth, upon his own knowledge.

Four sundry instances of drunkards wallowing and tumbling in their drink, slain by carts, I forbear to mention, because such examples are so common and ordinary.

A yeoman's son, in Northamptonshire, being drunk at Wellingborough on a market-day, would needs ride his horse in a bravery over the ploughed lands, fell from his horse, and brake his neck. Reported to me by a kinsman of his own.

A knight notoriously given to drunkenness, carrying sometimes pails of drink into the open field to make people drank withal, being upon a time drinking with company, a woman comes in, delivering him a ring with this poesy, ' Drink and die,' saying to him. This is for you, which he took and wore, and within a week after came to his end by drinking. Reported by sundry, and justified by a minister dwelling within a mile of the place.

Two examples have I known of children that murdered their own mothers in drink, and one notorious drunkard that attempted to kill his father, of which being hindered, he fired his barn, and was afterward executed. One of these formerly in print.

At a tavern in Bread Street, in London, certain gentlemen drinking health to their lords on whom they had dependence, one desperate wretch steps to the table's end, lays hold on a pottle pot full of Canary, sack, swears a deep oath. What! will none here drink a health to my noble lord and master ? and so setting the pottle pot to his mouth, drinks it off to the bottom; was not able to rise up or to speak when he had done, but fell into a deep snoring sleep, and being removed, laid aside, and covered by one of the servants of the house, attending the time of the drinking, was within the space of two hours irrecoverably dead. Witnessed at the time of the printing hereof, by the same servant that stood by him in the act, and helped to remove him.

In Dengy Hundi'ed, near Maldon, about the beginning of his majest3''8 reign, theno fell out an extraordinary judgment upon five or six that plotted a solemn drinking at one of their houses ; laid iu beer for the once, di-unk healths iu a strange manner, and died thereof within a few weeks, some sooner, and some later. "Witnessed to me by one that was with one of them on his deathbed, to demand a debt, and often spoken of by Mr Heydon, bite preacher of JMaldou, in the hearing of many. The particular circumstances were exceeding remarkable, but having not sufficient proof for the pai'ticulars, I will not report them.

One of Aylesham, in Norfolk, a notorious drunkard, drowned in a shallow brook of water, with his horse by him.

'Wliilst this was at the press, a man eighty-five years old or thereabout, in Suffolk, overtaken with wine (though never in all his life before, as he himself said a little before his fall, seeming to bewail his present condition, jind others that knew him so say of him), yet, going down a pair of stairs, against the persuasion of a W'Oman sitting by him in his chamber, fell, and was so dangerously hurt, as he died soon after, not being able to speak from the time of his fall to his death.

The names of the parties thus punished, I forbear, for the kindred's sake yet li\ang.

If conscionable ministers of all places of the land, would give notice of such judgments as come within the compass of their certain knowledge, it might be a great mean to suppress this sin, which reigns eveiywhere, to the scandal of our nation, and high displeasure of Almighty God.

These may suffice for a taste of God's judgments. Easy were it to abound in sundiy particular casualties, and fearful examples of this nature. Drunkard, that which hath befallen anyone of these may befall thee, if thou wilt dally with this cockatrice, whatever leagues thou makest with death, and dispensations thou givest thyself from the like. Some of these were young, some were rich, some thought themselves as wise as thou; none of them ever looked for such ignominious ends more than thou, whoever thou art. If thou hatest such ends, God give thee gi-ace to decline such courses.

If thou beest yet insensate with wine, void of wit and fear, I know not what fui-ther to mind thee of, but of that thii'd and worst sting of all the rest, which will ever be gnawing and never dying; which if thou wilt not fear here, sm-e thou art to feel there, when the red dragon hath gotten thee into his den, and shall fill thy soul with the gall of scorpions, where thou shalt yell and howl for a di'op of water to cool thy tongue withal, and shalt be denied so small a refreshing, and have no other liquor to allay thy thirst but that which the lake of brimstone shall afibrd thee. And that worthily, for that thou wouldst incm* the wi-ath of the Lamb for so base and sordid a sin as di'unkenness, of which thou mayest think as venially and slightly as thou wilt. But Paul, that knew the danger of it, gives thee foir warning, and bids thee not deceive thyself, expressly and by name mentioning it among the mortal sins excluding from the kingdom of heaven, 1 Cor. vi. 10. And the prophet Isaiah tells thee, that for it hell hath enlarged itself, opened its mouth wide, and ^\^thout measure, Isa. v. 1-4;' and therefore shall the multitude and their pomp, and the jolliest among them, descend into it. Consider this, you that are strong to pour in drink, that love to drink sorrow and care away. And be you well assured, that there you shall drink enough for all, having for every drop of your former housings, vials, yea, whole seas of God's wrath, never to be exhaust.

Now, then, I appeal from yourselves in drink to yourselves in your sober

fits. Eeason a little the case, and tell me calmly, -would you, for your own or any man's pleasure, to gratify friend or companion, if you knew there had been a toad in the wine-pot (as twice I have known happened, to the death of drinkers); or did you think that some Caesar Borgia or Brasutus had tempered the cup; or did you see but a spider in the glass,—would you, or dui'st you, carouse it off? And are you so simple to fear the poison that can kill the body, and not that which killeth the soul and body ever, yea, for ever and ever, and if it were possible for more than for ever, for evermore? Oh, thou vain feUow, what tellest thou me of friendship or good fellowship ? Wilt thou account him thy friend or good fellow that di'aws thee into his company that he may poison thee, and never thinks he hath given thee right entertainment or shewed thee kindness enough till he bath killed thy soul with his kindness, and with beer made thy body a carcase fit for the bier, a laughing and loathing-stock, not to boys and girls alone, but to men and angels ? Why rather sayest thou not to such, What have I to do with you, ye sons of Belial, ye poisonful generation of vipers, that hunt for the precious hfe of a man ? Oh, but there are few good wits or great spirits now-a-days but will pot it a little for company. What hear I ? Oh, base and low-spirited times, if that were true! if we were fallen into such lees of time foretold of by Seneca,* in which all were so drowned in the di-egs of vices, that it should be virtue and honour to bear most drink. But thanks be to God, who has reserved many thousands of men, and, without all comparison, more witty and valorous than such pot-wits and spirits of the buttery, who never bared their knees to di'ink healths, nor ever needed to whet their wits with wine, or arm their courage with pot-harness. And if it were so, yet, if no such wits or spirits shall ever enter into heaven without repentance, let my spirit never come and enter into their paradise; ever abhor to partake of their brutish pleasui'es, lest I partake of their endless woes. If young Cyrus could refuse to drink wine, and tell Astyages he thought it to be poison, for he saw it metamorphose men into beasts and carcases, what would he have said if he had known that which we may know, that the wine of drunkards is the wine of Sodom and Gomorrah, Deut. xxxii. 32, then* gi'apes the grapes of gall, their clusters the clusters of bitterness, the juice of dragons and the venom of asps. In which words Moses, in a full commentaiy upon Solomon, largely expressing that he speaks here more briefly, ' It stings like the serpent, and bites like the cockatrice;' to the which I may not unfitly add that of Paul's, and think I ought to write of such with more passion and compassion than he did of the Christians in his time, which sure were not such monsters as ours in the shapes of Christians, * whose god is their belly' (whom they serve with drink-offerings), ' whose glory is their shame, and whose end is damnation.'

What then ? Take we pleasure in thundering out hell against drunkards ? Is there nothing but death and damnation to drunkards ? Nothing else to them, so continuing, so dying. But what? Is there no help nor hope, no amulet, antidote, or triacle ? Are there no precedents found of recovery ? Ambrose, I remember, tells of one that, having been a spectacle of drunkenness, proved, after his conversion, a pattern of sobriety.f And I myself must confess that one have I known, yet Uving, who, having drunk out his

* Seneca de Beneficiis, lib. i. cap. 10, Quum plurimum meri sumpsisse virtus erit, &c.

t Qui ludibrium fuerat ebrietatis, factus est postea sobrietatis exemplum.—Amb de Hes.

bodily eyes, had his spiritual eyes opened, proved diligent in hearing and practising. Though the pit be deep, mir}', and narrow, like that dungeon into which Jeremiah was put, yet, if it please God to let down the cords of his divine mercy, and cause the party to lay hold thereon, it is possible they may escape the snares of death. There is, even for the most debauched drunkard that ever was, a sovereign medicine,* a rich triacle, of force enough to cure and recover his disease, to obtain his pardon, and to furnish him with strength to overcome this deadly poison, fatal to the most. And though we may well say of it, as men out of experience do of quartan agues, that it is the disgrace of all moral physic, of all reproofs, counsels, and admonitions, yet is there a salve for this sore. There came one from heaven that trod the winepress of hisFather's fierceness, drunk off a cup tempered with all the bitterness of God's wrath and the devil's malice, that he might heal even such as have drunk deepest of the sweet cup of sin. And let all such know, that in all the former discovery of this poison I have only aimed to cause them feel their sting, and that they might with earnest eyes behold the brazen serpent, and seriously repair to him for mercy and gi-ace, who is perfectly able to eject even this kind, which so rarely and hardly is thrown out where once he gets possession. This seed of the woman is able to bruise this sei-pent's head. Oh, that they would listen to the gracious offers of Christ! If once there be Avrought in thy soul a spiritual thirst after mercy, as the thirsty land hath after rain, a longing appetite after the water that comes out of the Rock, after the blood that was shed for thee, then let him that is athirst come, let him drink of the water of life without any money, of which if thou hast took but one true and thorough di'aught, thou wilt never long after thy old puddle waters of sin any more. Easy will it be for thee, after thou hast tasted of the bread and wine in thy Father's house, ever to loathe the husks and swill thou wert wont to follow after ■n'ith greediness. The Lord Christ will bring thee into his mother's house. Cant. viii. 2, cause thee to drink of his spiced wine, of the new wine of the pomegranate. Yea, he will bring thee into his cellar, spread his banner of love over thee, stay thee ■sv'ith flagons, fill thee with his love, till thou beest sick and overcome with the sweetness of his consolations. Cant. ii. 4. In other drink there is excess, but here can be no danger. The devil hath his invitation, ' Come, let us drink;' and Christ hath his inehriamlni, ' Be ye filled with the Spirit.'f Here is a fountain set open, and proclamation made; and if it were possible for the brutishest drunkard in the world to Icnow who it is that offereth, and what kind of water he ofi'ereth, he would ask, and God would give it frankly without money; he should drink liberally, be satisfied, and out of his belly should sally springs of the water of life, quenching and extinguishing all his inordinate longings after stolen water of sin and death.

All this while little hope have I to work upon many draukards, especially by a sermon read (of less life and force in God's ordinance, and in its own nature, than preached). My first drift is, to stir up the spirits of parents and masters, who in all places complain of this evil, robbing them of good servants and dutiful children, by all care and industry to prevent it in their domestical education, by carrying a watchful and restraining hand over them. Parents, if you love cither soul or body, thrift or piety, look to keep them from the infection. Lay all the bars of your authority, cautions, threats, and charges for the avoiding of this epidemical pestilence. If any of them be bitten of this cockatrice, sleep not, rest not, till you have cured

* Magna merlicina tollit pcccata magna.—Am.

f Habet Deus suum incbriamiui, &c.—Bernard in Cant.

%

them of it, if you lOve tlieir liealtli, husbandry, grace, their present or future lives. Dead are they while they live, if they live in this sin. Mothers, lay about you, as Bathsheba, with all entreaties, * What, my son, my son of my loves and delights, wine is not for you,' &c.

My next hope is, to arouse and awaken the vigilancy of all faithful pastors and teachers. I speak not to such stars as this dragon hath swept down ft'om heaven with its tail; for of such the prophets, the fathers of the primitive, yea, all ages, complain of. I hate and abhor to mention this abomination. To alter the proverb, ' As drunk as a beggar,' to a gentleman is odious; but to a man of Grod, to an angel, how harsh and hellish a sound is it in a Christian's ears! I speak, therefore, to sober watchmen, ' Watch and be sober,' and labour to keep your charges sober and watchful, that they may be so found of Him that comes like a thief in the night. Two means have you of great virtue for the quelling of this serpent,— zealous preaching and praying against it. It is an old received antidote, that man's spittle, especially fasting spittle, is mortal to sei'pents.* Saint Donatus is famous in story for spitting upon a di-agon that kept a highway, and devoured many passengers. This have I made good observation of, that where God hath raised up zealous preachers, in such towns this serpent hath no nestling, no stabliag or denning. If this wiU not do, Augustine enforceth another, which I conceive God's and man's laws allow us upon the reason he gives. If Paul (saith he) forbid to eat with such our common bread in our own private houses, how much more the Lord's body in church assemblies ? If in our times this were strictly observed, the sei-pent would soon languish and vanish. In the time of an epidemical disease, such as the sweating or sneezing sickness, a wise physician would leave the study of all other diseases to find out the cure of the present raging evil; if Chiysostom were now alive, the bent of all his homilies, or at least one part of them, should be spent to cry down drunkenness, as he did swearing in Antioch, never desisting to reprove it till (if not the fear of God, yet) his importunity made them weary of the sin.

Such Anakims and Zanzummims as the spiritual sword will not work upon, I turn them over to the secular arm, with a signification of the dangerous and contagious spreading of this poison in the veins and bowels of the commonwealth, in the church's, and Christ's name also, entreating them to carry a more vigilant eye over the dens and buiTows of this cockatrice, superfluous, blind, and clandestine ale-houses : I mean the very pest houses of the nation. Which I could wish had all for their sign, a picture of some hideous serpent, or a pair of them, as the best hieroglyphic of the genius of the place, to warn passengers to shun and avoid the danger of them. Who sees and knows not, that some one needless alehouse in a country town, undoes all the rest of the houses in it, eating up the thrift and fruit of their labours ; the ill manner of simdiy places being there to meet in some one night of the week, and spend what they have gathered and spared all the days of the same before, to the prejudice of their poor wives and children at home, and upon the Lord's day, after evening prayers there to quench and drown all the good lessons they have heard that day at church. If this go on, what shall become of us in time ? If woe be to single drunkards, is not a national woe to be feared and expected of a nation overrun with drunkenness ? Had we no other sin reigning but this,

* Ut serpens hominis quiim tacta salivis, Disperit, ac sese mandendo conficit ipsa.—

Lucretius: vide etiam Ophilium et (Jesnerum, &c. . j

which cannot reign alone, will not God justly spew us out of his mouth for this alone ? Wo read of whole countries wasted, dispeopled, by serpents. PUny tells ns of the Amycla), Lycophron of Salamis, Herodotus of the Neuri, utterly depopulate and made unhabitable by them. Verily, if this cockatrice multiply and get head amongst us a whUo longer, as they have of late begim, where shall the people have sober servants to till their lands, or children to hold and enjoy them ? They speak of draining fens ; but if this evil be not stopped, wo shall all shortly be drowned with it. I wish the magistracy, gentry, and yeomanry would take it to serious consideration, how to deal with this serpent, before he gi-ow too strong and fierce for them. It is past the egg already,* and much at that pass, of which Augustine complains of in his time, that he scarce knew what remedy to advise, but thought it required the meeting of a general council, f The best com-se I think of is, if the great persons would fii-st begin thorough reformation in their own families, banish the spirits of their butteries, abandon that foolish and vicious custom, as Ambrose and Basil calls it, of drinking healths, J and making that a sacrifice to God for the health of others, which is rather a sacrifice to the devil, and a bane of their ovm. I remember well, Sigis-mund the emperor's grave answer, wherein there concurred excellent wisdom and wit (seldom meeting in one saying) which he gave before the Council of Constance, to such as proposed a reformation of the church, to begin with the Franciscans and Minorites. You will never do any good, saith he, unless you begin with the Majorites first. Sure till it be out of fashion and grace in gentlemen's tables, butteries, and cellars, hardly shall you persuade the countrjonan to lay it down, who, as in fiishions, so in vices, will ever be the ape of the gentry.

If this help not, I shall then conclude it to be such an evil as is only by sovereign power, and the king's hand, curable. And verily next under the word of God, which is omnipotent, how potent and wonder-working is the word of a king ! § When both meet as the sun and some good star in a benign conjunction, what enemy shall stand before the sword of God and Gideon ? "\i\Tiat vice so predominant which these subdue not ? If the lion roar, what beast of the forest shall not tremble and hide their head ? Have we not a noble experiment hereof yet fi-esh in our memory, and worthy never to die, in the timely and speedy suppression of that impudent abomination of women's mannish habits, threatening the confusion of sexes, and ruin of modesty ? The same royal hand and cai-e the church and commonwealth implores for the vanquishing of this poison, no less pernicious, more spreading, and prevaihng. * Take us these little foxes,' was wont to be the suit of the church, for they gnabble our grapes, and hurt our tender branches ; but now it is become more serious. Take us these serpents, lest they destroy our vines, vinedressers, vineyards and all. This hath ever been royal game. How famous, in the story of Diodorus Siculus, )c> tJae roy?'< munificence of Ptolemy, Idng of Egv^jt, for provision of nets, .'ind maintenau^so o2 h^mtsmen, for the taking and destroying of serpents, noxious ar.d noisome to ma ccur'+iTr. The like of Philip in Aiis-

* F/ft) fie gV(x/v5 fi-nXiera fXi:vovi, ''(^ci ^'^n(p'Jo u-va rui\ xrxSjv -•'xo-rrouff/. —iElian. lib. 14. «« '^

'f. t Tanta potentia nnjurf mjill, ist SAoari prorsns sine concilii autontaK iion possit. —Aup;. Ep. 64 ad Aurelium.

X Bibamus pro salute Imperatorum, comltmn. Oh 3hz]*^^i<:itm3, Tititlin sacrificium putant.—Amb. do Helia, &c. Basil. Horn contra Ebrlos.

§ Where the word of a king is, there is power, Eccles. viii. 4.

totle, and of Attilius Regulus in Aulus Gellius. The emblem mentioned at large by Plutarch, engraven on Hercules' shield, what is it but a symbol of the divine honour due to princes following their Herculean labours, in subduing the like hydras, too mighty for any inferior person to take in hand ? It is their honour to tread upon basilisks, and trample dragons under their feet. Solomon thinks it not unworthy his pen to discourse their danger.

A royal and elegant oration is happily and worthily preserved in the large volume of ancient writings, with this title, Oratio magnifici et pacifici Edgari Eegis, habita ad Dunstanum Archie]^. Ejoiscopos, <&c. The main scope whereof is, to excite the clergy's care and devotion for the suppressing of this vice for the common good. Undertakers of difficult plots promise themselves speed and effect, if once they interest the king, and make him party. And what more generally beneficial can be devised or proposed than this, with more honour and less charge to be effected, if it shall please his Majesty but to make trial of the strength of his temporal and spiritua,l arms. For the effecting of it, if this help not, what have we else remaining, but wishes and prayers to cast out this kind withal ? God help us ! To him I commend the success of these labours, and the vanquishing of this cockatrice.

THE HAPPINESS OF PRACTICE.

TO THE

WOESHIPFUL THE BAILIFFS, BUEGHEES, MD COMMONALTY

OF THE TOWN OF IPSWICH.

Speech requires presence, writings have their use in absence; sermons are as showers of rain that water for the instant, books are as snow that Hes longer on the earth : these may preach when the author cannot, and which is more, when he is not. Zisca desired his skin might serve the Bohemians in their wars, when his body could no more do it. Such is my afi'ection towards you, that I ever desire to be sounding in your ears, and putting you in mind of these things, in season, out of season, in absence, in presence, whiles I remain in this tabernacle, and what I may, even after dissolution. For which pui-pose I have improved a little leisure, occasioned against my vdll, to whet upon you the scope and frait of all my former labours, whose they are, and whose I am. To whom should I wish happiness but to you, whose happiness shall redound upon mine own head, and welldoing be put upon mine own account ? And what other can be your happiness, but to be doers of what you areknowers ? One-half of the Scriptm-es I have handled among you, endeavoured to acquaint you with the whole counsel of God ; and what is now the top of all my ambition, but to make you doers of what you have been hearers ? Wherein consists the delight of a husbandman ? Not in his ploughing, sowing, or carting, but to see the fm*-rows crowned, and barns filled, with the fruit of his labours.* When we preach we sow the seed ; when we see good desires, then the com sprouts up; when the people begin to do well, then it blades; but, when they are abund-

* Quum desideria bona concipimus, semen in terram mittimus; quum vero opera rncta incipimus, herba sumus ; qunm ad profectum boni operis crescimus, ad spicam p^rvenimus ; quura in ejusdemboni operis perfectione solidamur, bonum fninicntum in spica profcrimus.—Greg, in llom.

ant in good works, then are the ears laden with com; when stedfast and persevering to the end, then are they ripe for God's barn. It was a pride in Montanus to overween his Pepuza and Tymium, two pelting parishes in Phrygia, and to call them Jerusalem,* as if they had been the only churches in the world. But this is the commendable zeal of every true pastor, to adorn his own lot, and to wish his garden as the Eden of God. Such shall you be, if God shall please to water the means you have with the dew of liis Spirit, to continue and increase your love to hearing and doing; to the muzzhng of the mouths of all scoffers and scorners at profession, to the joy, crown, and eternal happiness of your own souls, and such as God hath made watchmen over them, and of me the unworthiest of the rest.

SAMUEL WARD.

* JIs<ffovaa« kI Tuimiqv li^ovaaKri/j:> ovowaeag Euseb. 1. 5, cap xvii.

THE HAPPINESS OF PRACTICE.

These things if you Jcnow, happy are you if you do them.—' John XIII. 17.

The fastening nail of the chief Master of the assemblies, the great Shepherd's peg, driving home, and making sure, all his fonnor counsels, chosen as a farewell close, making and leaving a deep impression of all his deeds and sajangs, as the last strong and loud knoll of a bell, that ends aU the peals going before. A text that puts life into all other texts, lu-ging the life of them, which is the practice of them, and is therefore aptly and duly-pronounced by many at the end of their sei-mons. A sermon upon which text the world hath as much need of as of any one yet extant; the multitude of them, as statutes and proclamations, wanting yet one to enforce the observation of the rest. The necessity of doing was the scope of our Lord's solemn and uncouth action of girding himself with a towel, rising from his magisterial seat, washing and wiping his disciples' feet. Ho had indeed two other by-ends: one mystical, intimated in his dialogue with Peter, tj-pifying the great end of his descent from heaven, and begirding himself with our flesh, viz., that he might totally wash our souls in the bath of justification (Jv oXov/tt^cJ) once for all, and partially in the lavor of regeneration so often (h cr&ciowTrouJ) as wo soil our feet in the mire of this world by daily sins of infii-mity. The other moral, to set his disciples a pattern of himiility and love, stooping to the meanest offices of mutual service, without emulation or affectation of priority, which ho foresaw would else be the bane of their sacred function. But his third and most principal aim was, by this his both verbal and real strange kind of lesson, to learn them not so much what they knew not as the use of doing that they knew, else would words only have served the turn, and not so much ado havo needed ; but he first does the things, and then expresses his intent, ' These things if you do,' &c.

In this conditional benediction, observe first the object on which happiness is confen-ed, and to which it is confined: ' These things.' Secondly, the two acts required hereto : ' if you know, if you do ;' chiefl}', the chief of them is, * if you do.' To which happiness is fore-annexed specially: * H^ppy are you if ye do,' &c.

' These things.' The loiowledge and practice of these things only blesseth; these main arch-mysteries of faith, and these divine and cardinal virtues

of love and humility, symbolised in their ablution, and not the doing or knowing of all the natural, moral, and manual sciences in the world besides.

If one knew all the circle of learning, and knew, as was said of Beren-garius, all that was knowable, all the rules of policy, secrets of state, mysteries of trading, and could execute them all; yet in his such knowing and doing he might not bless himself, were not happy, nor so to be reputed of Christians. The right placing or misplacing of happiness is the rudder of a man's life, the fountain of his well or ill doing; according to which men take their marks, and shoot right or wrong, all the actions of their lives. He that admireth in his heart, and blesseth with his mouth, any other idol of good, instead of this only true good, must needs miss of his end, and be a miserable man, grossly mistaking his marks, as silly country people that oftentimes give terms of honours and majesties to mean persons. So do most people, when they transfer this transcendent word and stately thing happiness unto any shadow of skill save of these things to which it is perpetually restrained in Scriptures, Psalm i., Luke ii., James i. Insomuch that Christ himself was displeased when they bestowed it on the paps and womb of his mother, in comparison of hearing and keeping his Father's will. Here then, and here only, is to be found the lost jewel of happiness, which weU may be likened to a stake set up in the midst of a field, which blinded men grope after, to make the beholders sport at their wanderings.

Augustine tells of a mountebank that undertook, in a city of great trading, to teU every man his wish, which was in his fallible conjecture, to buy cheap and sell dear. But here he who hath made, and knoweth the hearts of all, tells every man the end of his desire ; and that which is more, shews him the way of attaining them. * These things if you know, and if you do them, happy are you.'

The first if, providently premixed, and cautelously presupposed by Christ, intimates that knowledge must be the pilot, guide, and usher of practice, else superstitious deeds done by rote and random, the blind whelps of ignorant devotion, God regards not. Good works, the fruits of faith, and children of a believer that knows what he does, such are only pleasing in his sight. Christ divinely foresaw the devilish policy of subtile worldlings, that would cry up practice to cry down knowledge, as cunning papists will extol St James to disparage St Paul; praise good meanings and works, with an e\'il eye to hearing sermons and reading good books; and carnal protestants be ever commending reading to disgrace preaching; and another sort ever talking of a good heart, a good meaning, and the power of religion, ever disliking all show apd profession of it; which, if well observed, are the least and worst doers in a country. Which Satanical sophism St James deeply prevents; vv^ho, though the chief aim of his epistle was to u)'ge hypocrites to be doers, and vain boasters of justifying faith to justify their faith by their works, yet forelaid this caveat, ' Be swift to hear:' needful even in these hearing and knovvang times, wherein though knowledge cover the earth as waters the sea, yet may the Lord have justly a controversy with the land, or a great number at least in it, hke dry rocks in the midst of this sea, who have not a dram of saving and well-grounded knowledge. But tins is but a pre-requisite to the main thing here required, which happiness is intendedly fore-placed, knowledge being but a step to this turret of happiness, ' happy are you if you do them.'

Here is the labour, here is the difiiculty, here is the happiness, in the conjunction of doing with knowing, to practise that we know; to perform

the duties prescribed in the gospel; to believe the things to be believed, and to do the things io be done ; the sum of faith and love, sweetly coupled in this significant ablution of his disciples' feet.

Three noblb ends divinity propounds to her followers: the first and greatest, God's gloiy; the second, next to that, man's o\vn content here, and salvation hereafter; the last like to the former, the edification and conversion of our neighbours. In the attainment of these is a Christian's perfection and happiness, none whereof bare theory shall ever more than come near. All three practice, joined thereto, fally apprehends.

Of these three, that must needs be the noblest which God primarily intended in the revelation of his will to mankind, and Moses oft tells us, is that we might observe to do them. For if (as Wolphius reasoneth by a distribution) he had given us his laws to preserve only, he safelier might have committed them to iron coflers and marble pillars; if only to talk and prate of them, better to geese and parrots ; if only for contemplation, to owls in i^'J•-woods, or to monks in cloisters, and not to all sorts of people. His scope sm"e was not to make trial of the wits of men, who could sharp-liest conceive ; nor of their memories, who could faithfuUiest retain; of their eloquence, who could roundliest discourse; but of their wills, who would most obediently do them: this being his chief honour, to have his throne and command, not in the head and brains, but in the strongholds of their hearts and hves. For what shall God reward thee, 0 man, but for that which men praise God for in thee ? Now for admirable gifts of science and learning, men may admire thee, but they give God thanks only for the good they receive from thee. The sun itself, if it did not shine and give warmth unto the creatures, were the glorious hue of it ten times more than it is, none would half so much bless God for it.

The men for whom onr heavenly Father is glorified, are such whose works shine afore men, who warm the loins of the poor, and with their knowledge are an eye to the blind. I can hardly believe that God (;ver made any creature only to behold ; neither star, pearl, flower, or feathered fowl, only to shew their glorious outsides, but to have influence, \irtues, qualities, beneficial to mankind ; much less a man to know only, or an art only to be known, but aU to his glory, and man's service, which to eflfect is all the glory of men and arts. Some sciences, I know, in comparison of others more operative, are termed speculative; but not one of these, whose speculation tends and ends not in some operation, by which man is profited, and God honoured; specially divinity, which makes us his workmanship, not to knowledge; but to good works, to the praise of his grace. Who commends a schoolmaster, whose scholars can say and understand their rules, but speak not and write not any good styles by them ? A captain, whose soldiers can skill of mihtary terms and orders, unless their aiis and exploits of war be suitable ? Who praiseth a horse that feeds well, but is not deedy for the race or travel, speed or length ? Little says the Scripture of the learning of the apostles, but much of their acts. These are the richest, and usual styles of commendation in Scripture. Moses, * a man mighty in words and deeds ;' Cornelius, ' a man fearing God, and gi\ing much alms ;' the Centurion, worthy of favour, for * he hath built us a synagogue ;' Dorcas ' made thus many coats for the poor ;' Gains, the ' host of the chm'ch,' &c. Such benefactors their works shall follow them, and praise them in the gates here, yea, at the great day obtain that, * Come, you blessed of my Father: for I was naked, and you clothed me.' For such men God is blessed of men, and such men shall be blessed of God in their deeds; and as the more ' VOL. lu. o g

knowing without doing shall procure the more stripes, because God for them is the more blasphemed; so the more doing with knowing, shall have double honour, because God was doubly honoured in them. ' Behold I come quickly, and my reward is in mine hand, to give every man according to his deeds.' Blessed are they that do my commandments. If you know them, and do not, miserable are you ; but these things if you know, and do them, you are the happiest men living.

The second branch of. happiness, wherein doing hath the advantage of knowing, is in the personal benefit, consisting in the present sweetness, and future gain accraing thereby. Some luscious delight, yea, a kind of ravishing douceness there is in studying good books, ruminating on good notions, not unlike that which is in tasting and swallowing sweet meats, which made the epicure in Julian wish his throat as long as the crane's; but all the benefit is in the strength and nourishment it breedeth after concoction, when thoughts breed works, and studies turn into manners, when the fat pasture is seen in the flesh and fleece of the sheep. One apple of the tree of life hath more sweet relish, than ten of the tree of knowledge of good and evil; which yet we fondly prefer in our longing, ever since our first parents' teeth were set on edge therewithal. For instance, thou findest thine ear tickled with an elaborate discourse of temperance, but try the practice of it, and tell me if it biing thee not in sundry real commodities to body and mind, beyond a poor, aui'icular transient titillation. Were it not for the difierent energy and efl&cacy in the heart and life, there might be well near as much pleasure in reading the witty commendations of folly, or pride, as in the sound tractate of wisdom, and humility; I had almost said in the language of fools ; in the reading of Sir Philip, as St Peter.

All discourses of faith and hope are but dry things, in comparison of the acts and practice of them, which are delicate above the honey and the honeycomb, sweeter than the taste of any nectar. Some say, the study of the law is cragged, that if the gain of practice did not sweeten it, few would plod upon Ployden. But, I believe, few would study Saint Paul, and preach as Saint Paul did, instantly in season and out of season (quaintly and rarely they might for credit and preferment), but painfully and profitably, I hardly believe they would; fervently and feeUngly they cannot, except the sweetness of their practice drives and constrains them. Of all men I hold them fools that bend their studies to divinity, not intending to be doers, as well as students and preachers; not much wiser, such as will be professors of religion and not practitioners. The parables in the Talmud fit their folly well, resembling them to such as plough and sow all the year, and never reap ; to the grasshopper that sings all the summer and wants in the winter; to women ever conceiving, and ever making abortion, never coming to the birth ; and, best of all, that of Christ, distinguishing hearers into fooHsh, that build on the sand of hearing, and professing, blown down with every pufi" of trouble ; and the wise, that build on the rock of doing, unshakable. Search all the Scripture, and see if any covenants or grants were made to knowing, and not all to doing. Is not the ancient tenor of the law, ' Do this and Uve ?' and the gospel, ' Beheve and live ?' which impHes an act to be done, and that act implying sundry consequents and firuits of it: ' He that doth my Father's will, he is my brother and sister.' ' Not every one that saith. Lord, Lord, but he that doth my Father's will.' To him that doth ill shall be tribulation and anguish, to every soul, of Jew and Grecian ; to him that doth well shall be honour and peace upon all the Israel of God. Unto whom shall that Eiige be given at that great day but the doer; and

in what form, but, ' Well done, good sen-ant,' that bast not buried thy talent in a napkin ? He himself cxpresseth the manner: ' Behold, I come quickly; my reward is in my hand, to give every man according to his works. Blessed is every one that doth my commandments, that he «nay eat of the tree of life, and enter through the gates into the city.' In all which, happiness in this life and that to come, is conferred upon the living acts and exercises, not upon the dead habits of any grace whatsoever. In all labour there is abundance, but in the conceits of the brain and talk of the lips, nothing but emptiness and misery. If one could do as much as Mr Stoughton prints, and many credible witnesses report of the yoimg gentlewoman of nine years old, that can say every syllable of the New Testament by heart, and, upon trial, not fail in returning a lino vrithout the right chapter and verse, and yet practise never a jot nor tittle of it, happier were such as never heard word of God's word. If one should take pains to get together a great number of songs, curiously set, artificially composed, yea, and knew how to sing or play them, and yet never heard them sung or played, what pleasui^e had he of them ? The practice and use of all operative arts is all in all; in divinity, the chief of all, which else is as the ^ane, excellent only in the sweet juice of it, otherwise fit not so much as for pin or peg.

Next to God's glory and a man's own good, a Christian placeth much happiness in winning and edifying others; to which purpose a speechless life hath more life in it than a lifeless speech. Irresistible is the Suada of a good life above a fair profession. Chiysostom* calls good works unanswerable syllogisms, in%incible demonstrations, to confute and convert pagans. Withal, tells us they have a louder language than the sun and moon, whose sound yet goes over all the world, pubhshing God's glorj^ not in Hebrew, Greek, or Latin, which many barbai'ous nations understand not, but in an oratory they can better skill of. An archer puts not more force into an arrow he shoots, than the life of the speaker into his speech ; whence it comes that one and the same sermon, or counsel, in several men's mouths, differ as much as a shaft out of a giant's, or child's, shooting. Miracles (says he) are now ceased, good conversation comes in their place; the apostles might have preached long enough without audience, or acceptance, had not theii' mu-acles, as bells, tolled to their sermons, and as harbingers, made way into men's hearts for their doctrine; by such weapons they conquered the world, as Gideon's soldiers the Midianites, cairying in one hand the burning lamp of a good hfe, and in the other the loud, shrill trumpets of preaching; f otherwise, plain men will answer as Jovinian, to the orthodox and Ai-ian bishops contending about the faith. Of your learning and subtle disputations I cannot so well judge, but I can well mark and observe which of your behavioiu's is most peaceable and fruitful; and as one, Moses,J renowned for piety, to Lucius, reputed an Arian bishop, tendering the confession of his faith to clear himself: Tush, says he, what tellest thou me of the faith of the ears ? Let me have the faith of the hands. I will rather go without my instalment than take it of hands imbrued in blood, bribery, and injustice, as all know and report thine to be. Arguments are dark, and persuasions dull things, to hves and actions ; and most people are like sheep, easdier following example than led or driven by pre-

* In 1 Cor. i. 10, ffuXXoy/tf/xous avavri^^T^rovi, ipajvrjv Xa/J^rrporisav.

t Thcod. in Jud., (p'soovni Xa/ira6aj T^ay/Maruv iv rri hi^i^, xai eaXmyyai XTiovyiLaTuv ev rri Xa/a.

X liuffium eccles. hist. lib. ii. c. x.

cepts and rules. Let any make proof of both. Let a gentleman or minister persuade parishioners to contribute liberally to a brief, and set a niggardly example, and see how much less will come of it, than if he said less and gave more. What else moved Christ and the prophets so frequently to use that potent figure, which rhetoricians, from the special usefulness of it, call Xgitoi", that is, when the orator seconds and enlives his speech with some action ; as Christ, when here in my text, he girds himself with a towel; and elsewhere, when he took the child and set him in the midst of the apostles; the prophet when he took Paul's girdle, and the old divine in Dorotheus, that had his auditor pluck at a great old tree, which he could not stir, and at a young sprout easily plucked up, to shew the difficulty of rooting out an old habit, in comparison of its beginnings.' '

The reason is, words are but wind, and vanish into the wind, leaving no print or impression more than a ship in the sea, in comparison of actions, which men take marks and notice of. This same inartificial argument of examples, thoTigh scholars less regard it as having less art in it, yet is it all the countryman's logic ; as the martyr that answered Bishop Bonner, ' My lord, I cannot dispute, but I can die for the truth,' moved the spectators as much as many learned discourses. By this, Christ demonstrated to John's disciples his Messiahship, ' Go and tell, not what you heard me preach, but saw me do ; how the blind receive sight,' &c. If I do not such works as none other hath done before me, I desire not men to believe in me. By these courses, Peter would have Christians win their neighbours, and wives their husbands, rather than by tutoring of them. Then would neighbours follow one another to the right religion and the true church, as tradesmen do to those markets where they see them gather wealth; yea, imitate their lives, and bring forth fruits as Jacob's sheep, if they saw their rods speckled with works, as well as with words. Thus Monica, Saint Augustine's famous mother, taught one of her neighbour gentlewomen, complaining of her churlish Nabal, and wondering how she won her perverse husband. Why, says she, I observed his mind, pleased him in all indiflerent things, forbore him in his passions, gave him all content in diet, attendance, and so have made him first God's, and then mine by degrees. These are the arts and charms that, if now used by preachers and professors, would convert multitudes of people, and cover multitudes of sins, and cause themselves to shine as stars. These things mind and exercise. These things, if you know and do, you shall save yourselves, and those you live withal, and so be every way happy men.

Thus in all these three references, you see that doing only brings in the happiness ; without which, all our knowing makes and leaves us but dis-honom-able to God, uncomfortable to ourselves, scandalous to others, in no nearer terms of happiness, than Balaam, Judas, and the devil himself, who, the more they know, the worse for them ; the more sin, and the more punishment. They do but teach God how to condemn them.

Use 1; 0/ reproof. —K knowing made up happiness, England were an happy nation, our times as happy as ever any ; but if doing be required, great is the fehcity of both. Of which, shall I complain in the words of Seneca ? Men now-a-days choose rather to discourse than to live ;* study styles rather than deeds; or in Bernard's, men desire knowledge to be known by it ;f or as Anacharsis taxed the Athenians for using their money to count withal, and knowledge to know withal ;% or as Tully of the phUo-

* Malint disputare quam vivere. f Scire ut sciantur.

% Nummis ad numerandum, scientia ad sciendum.

sophers, that their Hves and their discourses miserably crossed one another.* The truth is this, a plcthory and dropsy there is of hearing and reading; a dearth and consumption of doing ; most ever gathering, never using ; not unhko some old university drones, ever in studying and learning, never preaching or venting their studies. Like tedious musicians, ever tuning and never playing, or like the changeling Luther mentions, ever suckUng, never battling; or like dying men, and sick of apoplexies, with speech, but no faculty locomotive, no power to stir hand or foot. Few (I confess) troubled in these times with the deaf and dumb spirits, but most having withered hands, and dried amis, and lame feet.

This same want of doing what we know, what does it else but make common people blaspheme God ? doubt whether all divinity be but policj', and the Scriptures a fable ? Verily, the atheism of the times hath this for its principal fountain and pretext. There was a woman lately living, much spoken of in some parts of this land, living in professed doubt of the Deity, after illumination and repentance hardly comforted, who often protested, that the vicious and offensive life of a gi'eat learned man in the town where she lived occasioned those damned doubts. This opens men's mouths, and gives the hint of all blasphemies, scorns, and scoffs of religion ; such as he broke upon the Jesuits, whom in foreign nations they call apostles. ' The apostles, indeed, shewed the world heaven, left the earth to earthly men, got heaven themselves ; but we are more beholden to our new ones ; they shew us heaven, leave it to us to pm-chase, and cozen us only of earthly possessions in the mean time.' This made Linacre, reading upon the ' New Testament the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters of Saint Matthew, and comparing those rules with Christians' lives, to throw down the book, and burst out into this protestation, ' Either this is not God's gospel, or we are not Christians and gospellers.' Questionless, the more any men know, or profess to know, and the less thej^ do, the more do they dishonour God.

And what are such themselves the better for their knowledge ? but as the preacher experimentally speaks, ' He that increaseth such knowledge, addeth sorrow.' Their folly I cannot better express than Erasmus, in his dialogue of a carnal gospeller, whom he calls Cyclops Eroniieliophonts, a swaggering ruffian, affecting yet the name of a gospeller, whom he describes, having by one side hanging a bottle of rich sack, and by the other a Testament of Erasmus's translation, richly bound and bossed, the leaves gilt over as fair as his life was foul, and conditions base. This man he discovers by certain interrogatories, to have no inward knowledge or affection to the gospel, nor better proof of his love thereto, than that he carried it always about him, and had laid it upon the pate of a Franciscan, that had railed on Erasmus and the new gospellers. To convince him, he asks him. What if he were tied ever to can-y the bottle at his girdle and never to taste of it; or but to taste only and never to drink it down ? His answer is, that were but a punishment, Tantalus-like. But what if he did, as his manner was, drink deeply of it ? He then answers, it would warm his heart, refresh his spirits, cheer his countenance. So, says he, would that little book, if thou didst eat it down; concoct, digest, and turn it into nutriment in thy life and practice. My meaning is not in this relation to tax Bible canning, which I hold a better gi-ace than rapiers or fans of feathers, but only to shew the fopperj' of them that carry Ihom in their hands, or in their memories or understandings, as asses do dainty burdens and taste not of them, have no fniit of them themselves. Verily, a muu * Cum riiilosophorum vita miserabiliter puguat oratio.

knows no more rightly than he practises. It is said of Christ, he knew no sins, because he did no sin ; and in that sense, he knows no good that doth no good. He that will obey shall know my Father's will, and such as will not do what they know to be good, shall soon unknow that which they know, and become as if they never had kno^n any such matter; it being lust with God to punish shipwreck of a good conscience, with loss of the freight of knowledge; according to that imprecation of the Hebrews, that if they should abuse their skill in music, their right hand might forget its cunning, and their tongue cleave to the roof of their mouths. From which just judgment, I persuade myself, it comes to pass that many become in matters of rehgion mere sceptics, because they would not be practics, and that the commonest religion of our times is Socrates's uncertainty. Men know nothing now-a-days. It is become a disputable problem whether the Pope be antichrist, Rome a good church; whether a man may worship God before pictures, play upon any paii of the Sabbath as well as upon the week days ; whether election be of foreseen faith ; whether the true believer may apostatise ? Shortly, I think, whether the Scripture be scripture, and whether there be a God or no ? To conclude, a good understanding have all they that do thereafter; and cursed are all such as know these things and do the clean contrary.

Cursed (I say) are they, because they lay a stumbling-block before others, both weak ones within and bad ones without; such, I say, as know God, and yet deny him in their lives, and are reprobate to every good word and work; such as buy by one balance and sell by another, have a form of knowledge which they prescribe to others and hve themselves by contrary rules. Of such I would I could speak with as much detestation, as Paul writes of them, Phil, iii., friends in show, but enemies in truth to the cross of Christ. Unclean beasts, for all their chemng of the cud, repeating of seimons, because they divide not the hoof, walk without all diflerences, and judgment, as if God had given them their lights to tread in puddles and gutters withal, to walk and wallow in the mire of all filthiness, which makes men mislike not only their persons, but the very religion which they retain too. Some few wise and gi'oimded Christians will do as they say, and not as they do ; hear them, because they sit in the chair of Moses ; but the gi-eatest number will loathe their sayings for their doings, as men the good light of a candle for the ill savour the stinking taUow yields, resolving as the Indians of the Spaniards, whatever their religion be, they will be of the clean contrary; if such go to heaven, they wiU go to hell. I wonder with what face such can call themselves Christians, or with what ears hear themselves so called.-= Does any man look to be called a carpenter that never squared timber, or erected frames ? What if never so skilful ? I say of all such skill, as Cato of superfluous useless trifles, they are dear of a farthing that are good for nothing.

Oh! rather let us all lay claim to that honourable name, do the works of Christians, and thereby approve ourselves to God and man, as the angel to Manoah, who, being asked of his name, made answer. It was wonderftd, and did wonderfully, ascended in the flame and made good his name by his action. Here is the labom', and here lies all the difiiculty; the maxims and sanctions of things to be done and believed are but few, contained in brief summaries ; but the incentives, motives, directions, reproofs, and such like appurtenances of practice, these make volumes swell, these lengthen sennons, and multiply books.f The art of doing is that which requires

* Greg. Nyssen. de nomine Christiani. t Sic Epictetus de Philosophia.

study, strength, and divine assistance. Do the sins that swann in our times proceed from ignorance, or incontinence rather, and wilfulness ? It were happy if men had that plea; if the hght were not so great, the times and the nation had not sin. May wo not use the apostle's ordinaiy in-crepation and exprobration ? l^ow you not that idolatry, swearing. Sabbath - breaking, di-inking, and whoring are sins ? Know you not that for these things comes the anger of God ? Is any so simple that h knows not the ten commandments, and the sum of the gospels ? yet hovk desperately do men rush upon these pikes, carelessly, wittingly, and willingly, seeing the gulf, and yet leaping into it! Many condemning them selves in Medea's tenus, see the better and yet follow the worse, havmg Ux. heart to leave that they see to be evil: as if men thought that ignorance only should condemn ; as if God should only come in flaming lire to render vengeance upon poor pagans, savages, and Indians, or heretics, that know not the truth, and not much more upon his owti servants, that knew and refused to do his will.

The infidel disputes against the faith, the impious lives against it; "-^- the one denies it in terms, the other in deeds; and therefore both shall be held as enemies to the faith, and never attain salvation: of the two, it is worse to kick against the prick one sees, than to stumble in the dark at a block one sees not. But here is the chief cause of all impiety ; illumination is easy, sanctification is hard to flesh and blood, requires crossing and mastery, yea, crucifying of our lusts, wills, and affiections, which is not done without much prayer and travaU; and therefore men neglect that, and content themselves with the easier and cheaper work. Upon this therefore do I wish Chi-istians would set their prizes, and spend their studies, even about the aii of doing. But how shall we attain this facility and faculty of doing ? I answer : to wish it and heartily to desu'e it is half, yea, and the best half, of the work; as Socrates was wont to say. He that would be an honest man shall soon be one, and is past the hardest part of the work. To afiect goodness above cunning is a good sign, and a good help, and step to be such an one, especially when this desire breeds prayer for power to do, knowing that without Christ we can do just nothing, but Ue becalmed and unable to move or promove ; as a ship on the sea, a mill on the land, without the breath of the Spirit. And this I commend as the best and first general help of practice, that eveiy morning, and in the enterprise of all thy aflairs, thou acknowledge thine own disability, or rather deadness, to eveiy good work, and commend thyself to the work of his grace for the will and the deed : for preventing and subsequent, operating and co-operatmg, preserving and perfecting grace : entreating him not only to regenerate thee, and give thee new principles of motion, but to renew his inspiration upon every new act of thine, that by Chi-ist, or rather Christ by and in thee, may do all things, pray as if thou hadst no will, vow as if there were no grace, that is seriously both.

Secondly, in the use of all means of practice, when thou goest to hear, read, or meditate, pray and desire thou mayest hght upon profitable and pertinent themes, books, and sermons, apphcatory, and levelling at thyself, and orations as if made for thee rather than for anybody else : desire not to gather flowers, but pot-herbs and fruit. Charms are said to have no efl'ect unless one go with a belief unto them: I am sure no means ordinaiily will do thee any good unless thou go with a mind to be bettered by them.

• Aug. lib. iv. contra Donat.

Thirdly, In the use of these, attend to thyself as well as to the matter, have one eye and ear fixed on what is said, and another on thyself; lay thyself to the rule, and say, What is this to me ? how do I and that agree ? Be not as httle children, who, while they are looking in the glass, think only it is the baby's face, and not their own. Observe not, in hearing a sermon, the pleasing sound of the pipe, but how thou dancest thereunto ; in reading of the Scriptures, at the end of every period ask thy heart. How do I practise this ? or. How does this reproof tax me ? This promise comfort me ? When thou art well persuaded to do anything, resolve thoroughly to do it; and when resolved, dispatch and execute it speedily.

Fourthly, After the sermon is ended, say not, as the common manner is, Now the sermon is done ; but consider it is not done till thou hast done it. After reading and hearing do as men do after dinner, sit a while, concoct it, by pondering of it, digest it, and after draw it out into action. So do such as learn music or writing : they play over their lesson, write after the copy. This, I think, Paul meant when he saith, affxw. I exercise myself to have an inoffensive conscience, &c. Most err grossly in the fail of this, thinking it enough to retain it in memory, to repeat it over, serving divinity as absurdly as the countryman his physic, who, being bidden to take his bill or receipt, took it home, and carried it in his pocket, and after finding no ease upon his complaint, being directed to take it in posset ale, put the bill in a cup, but never took the ingredients prescribed into his body. And look how much good his physic did him, so much good wiU divinity do us, taken into our memories and tongues, and no further.

Fifthly, In all thy talk, discourses, and counsels to others, lick first thine own fingers. That wise man is a fool that is not wise for himself. And yet many such there be that can preach and write good books, like Tusser, that wrote well of husbandry, and was the most unthrifty husband himself that ever water wet.

Sixthly and lastly. In all thy privy reckonings with thyself, which must be duly observed at the close of every week, month, and year, less and more solemnly, observe what thou hast done, consider if thou shouldst keep a diary or journal, as many thi-iving Christians do, what acts it would record when I go out of the world. WTiat, shall the world say, hath this man done singular or memorable ? Take such accounts of thyself daily as masters of their journeymen and apprentices. As Pharoah's taskmaster of the Israelites, Where is the work done this day ? lest thou be as huntsmen and falconers that have toiled all the day and have no quarry or roast at night.

A Word of Application.

If now, at the end of my sermon, my several hearers and readers would do, as St John Baptist's did, ask. What shall I do ? and what shall I do ? You have said much in the general of doing, what say you in particular to this nation, and to the several conditions of men in it ?

I answer: What can I say to these knowing times, which hath not been said before me. What new doctrine, unheard of before, is it possible for me to broach ? I will, therefore, say no more but ' do that which you know you should do.' If you know that Baal be God, if Rome be the church, let us return to it again. If you know that swearing, Sabbath-breaking, and fashion-following be good things, let us all fall to do these things. But if God hath given us the truth and the light, let us walk in it,

and work by it while it is to-day, lest, if we play revel and riot by it, the candlestick be removed, and the light put out. If purity, sanctity, and sobriety be knowTi to you to be good things, and pleasing to God, ♦ happy arc you if you do them.'

Certain things there are known and acknowledged at all hands as meet to be done, that an able minister might be provided for every parish, that popery, swearing, and drunkenness would be suppressed. But why ai'e they ever spoken of and never done ? How did they, in superstition, maintain so many idle bellies ? How was [the head of the beast cut ofi' at the first in this nation ? Is it harder for us to cut ofi' the friggling tail of that hydra of Rome ? How was the infinite swarm of rogues and beggars suppressed by good laws ? Verily, nothing is hard to industrious and active spirits, God assisting; and now it is high time, and God looks that these things should be done.

To the reverend clergy, and such as carry hohness in their fronts. Let such be sure to have Thummim as well as Urim on their breasts; then* right thumbs and feet anointed with holy oil, as well as their right ears; their fruitful pomegranates on their skirts, as well as their bells to ring and make a sound withal, lest they be as tinkling cymbals to God's and men's ears. You know better than I can tell you wlaat should be done. Happy are you if you do what you know.

To nobles and gi'eat persons. It is not your countenancing of religion will serve the turn, which yet were well if many of you would afibrd but your practising of it, not the having of a chaplain to say and do you such service as Ahab's four hundred did, but a faithful Micaiah to direct you, what God would have done, whom you may hear as Cornelius did Peter, with an intent to obey, not him, but the message he delivers out of God's book unto you.

To gentlemen. For God's sake, do something, besides hawking and hunting and living upon your lands and patrimonies. You have better means of knowing and doing than meaner men. Happy if you do what you know.

To lawj-ers and soldiers. I remit you to St John's counsel, which wiU serve you both. And happy should they and their clients be if they would practise it, be content with their wages, and do no ^Tong.

To merchants and tradesmen. If you beheve there be a country and city that lies eastward, a new Jerusalem, where there are rich commodities, as rich as any in the East Indies, send yoiu* prayers and good works to factor there for you, and have a stock employed in God's banks to pauperous and pious uses; and think of religion as of tradings that will bring no gain unless diligently followed and practised. It is not a nimble head, but a diUgent hand, that maketh rich.

In a word, to all hearers and goers to sermons. Play not the fools, as most do. Hear not to hear. Go not to church as many now-a-days do to universities and inns of court, neither to get learaing, law, nor money, for mere form or fashion; or as boys go into the water to play and paddle there only, not to wash and be clean. To all sorts: I say not a word more; but do that which you know to be good, and happy are you.

Brevis predicatio, longa ruminatio, actio perpetua, Denique, quid verbis opus spectemur agendo.

A POSTSCRIPT.

Reader, if thou hadst read over a treatise of physic, poUty, mathematics, or any other mysterj', earnestly promisiag thee health, wealth, or special benefit, wouldst thou not long till thou hadst made some trial of it ia practice? Here, if thou wilt be persuaded to do the like, without all if or and, happy shalt thou be. To conclude: before thou be tired, consider weU much reading is a weariness to the flesh, but much doing a refreshing to the spirit. The general complaint of the world is that there is no end of making many books, because there is httle or no fruit in those that read them, but as the grass on the housetop, which withers before it cometh forth, whereof the mower fiUeth not his hand nor the gleaner his lap, neither they which go by say. The blessing of the Lord be on you, or, We bless you in the name of the Lord. Thou, therefore, who desirest to be a wise reader, one of a thousand, read to some purpose; that is, intend of a reader to become a doer. So shalt thou avert this curse and reproach from thee. So shall God and man call thee blessed; and blessed shalt thou feel thyself in so doing. Do, then; and so he hath done, that layeth no heavier burden on thee than on himself, nor wisheth other happiness than to himself.

SA. WAPJ).

Ability without the fear of God Is the deyH's an-yil, on which he forgeth mischief, 123.

Auctions, thouah we may not pray that they may come, yet we should praise God for, when they do come, 141,

Alehouses, superfiuoos and clandestine, are pest-houses, 158.

Alphonso, subjects of his thanksgiving, 141.

.Altar. A Coal FRO>t the, 69, et seq.

A mbilious men ought not to be appointed to oiHces, 117.

Anods. have not only wings to fly, but eyes to guide their flight, 7().

Anhalt, Count, his statement as to the contents of the Sciiptures, 4.

Ass, why the neclt of the firstling waste be broken, 78.

Assurance is attainable, 106.

Auguslinn, anil his mother, their mutual comfort, 68 ; wished that he might have heard Paul preach, on wliich one adds that he wished so too, and that his subject had been conscience, 94.

fiacnn. Sir Francis, dedication to, 113.

Hailifs, jailors, Ac, their wickedneis, 130.

Balm from Gilead, 92, el seq.

Basilis'c, saiil to be harmless to those who see it b.'fora it sees them, 53.

lielievers and natural men may do the same duties, but from difTerent motives, 32.

Bellarmine, his opinion tliat one glimpse of hell would make every man not only a Christian but an anchorite, 59 ; his^rt of Dying a doting book of dead and dry precepts, 62.

Bishops, ancient Cliristian, desired martyrdom more ambitiously than others desire honours and preferments, 52 ; one seeing a toad by the way, lifted up his heart in thanksgiving that Goii had not made him such a creature, 140.

Blessing, one spiritual better than all corporal, <ine etornal, than all temporal, 141.

Bradwardine, his sound reasoning on thankfulness, 142.

Calrndar, a Thanrffl Man's, 147.

Calvin, his caveat to Melancthon, 81 ; in ^ilswlll

lamented tiie unprofitablen&ss of his service, 84. Charity Is the builder of churches, and strife their

waster, 77. CTiarles the Great, bis adaptation of an old maxim,

6. Chkist is All in All, 3, «.' seq. Christ will not endure any partner In our Jnsti-

tlcation, 9 ; nor in oar sanctificatiOD, ib. ; should

be the substance of onr talk, the theme of the learned, the study of the unlearned, the solu scope and subject of preaching, 10 ; is the fountain of lite, 18 ; delights to forgive much, that he may bind to love much, 22 ; why he raised from the dead one newly dead, one about to be buried, and one who had been buried four days, 32 ; his miracles not so wonderful as his gracious and sudden quieting of the conscience, 101; gives no permission to sin, 102 ; his purpose in washing his disciples' feet, 161.

Christia.ns, Dyikg, tueie Livino Speeches, 44, et seq.

Christians, their great defect that they want skill, or else forget, to hold up the shield of faith when darts come upon them, 34; a zcalou.s one, his stateliness, 79 ; sure to be misrepresented by the world, 81.

Christopher, St, a type of the preacher, wading through the sea of the world, stajnng on the stafl' of faith, and lifting up Christ aloft to be seen of men, 10.

Clergy and laity, distinct, but not opposed, 7 ; coldness of, gives l)oldness to sinners, ib.

Coal from the Altar, A, 69, et seq.

Comfort, specially needed in the day of sickness, calamity, death, and judgment, 108; this, only a good conscience can afford, ib.

Commonwealth, is to the church what the elm is to the vine, 132.

Conflicts, uses of, as occasions of faith's greatest triumphs, 34.

Conscience, the pangs of a wounded, the best figure of hell, 60 ; iiuried in the grave of habitual sinning, with the stone of liardness rolled over it, 94 ; definition of, 97 ; its divine royalties and endowments, 98 ; than a good, there is nothing better, than a bad, nothing worse, 99 ; silenced by prosperity, riches, and business, 100 ; seared witli sin, ib. ; four intallible marks of a good one, 102 ; cautions concerning scrupulous, 104; a good one is independent of the world, 107 ; address to, personified, 1()9.

Contemplation, time should be set apart for, twice or thrice in the day, 24

Controversy, in books of, too much bitterness, 76.

Covetousness is a kind of idolatry, which transforms tlie worsliippers of the golden calf into Idols themselves (so tliat they have eyes, but see not, &c.), 127.

Couarrts are slaves to their superiors, fellow-fools to their equals, tyrants to their inferiors, and windmills to popular breath, 121.

Creatures, none made only to be looked at, 165.

Cross, to bear, is the first lesson in Christ's school* 36

Cyrus, young, his opinion of wine, 156.

* It is not considered necessary to give an Index of Scripture Texts, as there are only a rery fevr quoted, and the remarks upon them are not of much importance Kd.

INDEX.

Death, fear of, mars all the joy of life, 42; only faith can remove, ib. ; triumphant of multitudes of Christians, 43 ; the worst known and the best known thing in the worid, 53 ; uncertainty of its time an advantage, 54 ; why his horse is represented as pale, 56; without hell as a follower were no formidable antagonist, 58 ; comes not to the believer to carry him to a prison, but to convey him to a feast, 61.

Srvinitii propounds three noble ends to her followers, 165.

Dkcnkards, Woe to, 149, et seq.

Drunkards, if Ihey be not reclaimed, yet the young may be preserved, 149; shall drink the dregs of God s wrath, 150 ; stories of, who have died in their drunkenness, 153 ; instances of two converted, 157.

Drunkenness, once held a disgrace, now a glory, 149 ; one of the most destructive of sins, 151; destroys the power to resist temptation, ib. ; why not specially forbidden in the Decalogue, 152 ; no sin so often leads to bodily death, ib. ; instances of this within the author's knowledge, 153 ; threatens the ruin of the country, 159.

Duellists were little to be regretted but for the loss of their souls, 58.

Edgar, King, his charge to the clergy for the suppression of drunkenness, 160.

E'iification of others will be more promoted by a speechless life than a lifeless speech, 167.

Edward VI., the English Josiah, 116 ; Bucer's advice to, ib.

Elections must be free, or they are none, 118.

Elizabeth, while a prisoner in Queen Mary's days, wished she had been a milkmaid, 67.

England, points of resemblance to Laodicea, 70 ; her causes of thankfulness, 144 ; her unthank-falness, 145.

Erasmus, his picture of an inconsistent professor of the gospel, 169.

* Exceeding-exceeding' (far more exceeding, A. V.) eternal weight of glory, a phrase not to be found elsewhere, 68.

Faith, The Life op, 17, et seq.

Faith engrosseth and appropriateth God, 18, styled the mother of all graces, as Eve was the mother of all living, 19 ; justifying, is not beneath miraculous in the sphere of its own activity, ib.; all its praise, beauty, and lustre consists" in action, 20; causes of want of comfort from, 22 ; must be a daily diet, rather tlian an occasional medicine, 24; its persuasive power, 80 ; its power to overcome corruption. 31 ; how it vivifies. 32 ; is the conduit pipe that waters all the herbs and flowers in the garden, 33 ; how it upholds life in affliction, ib. ; her five special cordials for the relief of a troubled .soul, 34 ; both pacifies and parifles the conscience, 101; of the hands better than of the ears, 167.

Fathers, Chrysostom, Basil, Ambrose, and others, their frequent preaching, 87.

Feasts of the Jews were held in three joyous seasons, 141.

Fervency, dissembled, as much more detestable than ordinary hypocri.^y, as zeal is more glorious than common profession, 76.

Forgetfulness no excuse for ingratitude, but one of the worst kinds of it, 138.

Friar, trick of one in the confessional, 102.

Happiness of Practice, The, 161, et seq.

Happiness, the placing or misplacing of, gives its character to man's life, 164.

Heaven infinitely desirable if but as a place ot rest, 66.

Hell is the grave of the soul, 57 ; consists of insupportable torments, with the addition of eternity, 60.

Honesty alone is truly honourable, 105.

Husbandmen will thank their dunghills for their crops rather than God, 142.

Infidels dispute against the faith, impious live against it, 171.

Ingo, king of the Draves and Veneds, his appreciation of Christians, 8.

Ingratitude the sum of all disgrace, 143.

Interrogatories touching the life of faith, 37.

James T. an angel of light, perhaps the angel that was to pour out the fifth vial on the throne of the beast, 87.

Jesuit, story of one in Lancashire who had a guilty conscience, 58.

Jethro's Justice of Peace, 113, et seq.

Jethro evidently a religious man, 115 ; his requirements of magistrates applicable to officers of all grades, the lowest as much as the highest, 1'28.

Jews, all their prophets, priests, and kings of note, were types of Christ, 4.

John, Eleemosynarius, his desire on his deathbed, 11.

Jovinian, his counsel to the orthodox and Arian bi.?hops, 167.

Joy, the best Christian has not perfect, in this life, hut has more than any other man, 39.

JcsTiCB OF Peace, Jethro's, 113, et seq.

Justice, delay in administering, a great evil, 131.

Justices, too inactive and indifferent, 130.

Justification by faith, doctrine of, does not encourage immorality, 29.

Kingdom of heaven, its main element is joy, 26.

Knowledge must be the pilot, guide, and usher of practice, 164; without practice, makes and leaves us dishonourable to God, uncomfortable to ourselves, scandalous to others, 168.

Labour, in all, there is abundance, but in the conceits of the brain, and talk of the lips, only emptiness and misery, 167.

Lateran Council, last, their blasphemous ascrip. tions to the pope, 5.

Latu, one wanted for the practising of the rest, 95 ; good, if not well administered, like a bell without a clapper (Dutch proverb), 129 ; God gave us, not merely that we might preserve, or talk of, or contemplate, but obey, 165; and gospel, both require action, 166.

Life of Faith, 17, et seq.

Life, best way to lengthen, 38.

Linacre declared that either the sermon on the mount is not Christianity, or we are not Christians, 169.

Living Speeches of Dting Christians, 44, etseq.

Louis XI. forbade the word 'death' ever to be uttered in his hearing, 58 ; his way of quieting his conscience, 102 ; the maxim he inculcated on his son, 126.

Lukewarmness a greater evil than excessive zeal 81; pleas for it stated and refuted, 84.

Gilead, Balm from, 92, et seq.

Girl of nine years old, one can say every word of

the New Testament by heart, 167. God, a Peace-offering to, 134, et seq. Gospel, its preeminence above the law is as thanks

above debt, 143. Gunpowder-plot, deliverance from, should' bo

thankfully commemorated, 139.

Magistrates, the scarlet robe of zeal becoming to, 89; four qualities essential to a good one, abi-lity, the fear of God, truthfulness, and disinte. restedness, 118; chief use of their office, 123; description of God-fearing, 124.

Martyr, answer of one to Bishop Bonner, 168.

Mary, Virgin, divine honours paid her, 5.

Meant of prace will ordinarily do no good but to those who seek Rood from tliein, 171.

i/fditatiuii, sulijects for, 82.

ifinistfrs, disrespect shewn to, 8 ; duties and qua-liflcations of, .37 ; have, or nilKht, or should have, more fiiitli than common Christians. 38 ; many learned, have had small fruits of their ministry, but hardly any zealous man of God, thouffh'of less Kifts. 8'J ; are as trumpeters and drummers to put life into the Christian army, 122 ; and teachers, their duty to be sober, and to keep their charges sober, 158 ; wherever they are zealous, drunkenness decreases, j6.

Monica, how she won her perverse husband, 168.

Moses, the greatest lawgiver that ever was, and the father of all lawgivers, 116.

Mountebank. Augustine's story of one who undertook to tell every man his wish, 164.

Oaths of office, by the common sort considered bat

formal, 12.3. Oration has less power than the orator, 82.

Palmer, Julius, his views of death, 63.

Parents ami masters, their duty to preserve their children aiul apprentices from drunkenness, 157.

Paul, object of all his writings, 3 ; his courage admirable, his conscientiousness more so, 108.

Peace, Jkthro's Justice of, 113, et seq.

Peace-offering to God, A, 134, et seq.

Peace of conscience, now to be had only through the blood of Christ, 101.

Peter compared by Chrysostom to fire in stubble, 79.

Popish writers too bold in giving descriptions of heaven and hell, 59.

Porcelain clay prepared for use by being buried for scores of years, 57.

PuACTicE, The Hahpinkss of, 131, et seq.

Praise of God from all his creatures, 140 ; for all his providence, *. ; for all personal favours in keej)ing away evil and bestowing good, ib. ; for all afflictions, »6. ; for all his gifts, 141 ; for all spiritual blessings, ib. ; most of all for Christ, ib. ; in all times, things, and places, t6.

Prayers without warmth can no more reach heaven, than steam from the still without fire, 78.

Preaching, fanciful, conceits in, ridiculed by a specimen, 88.

Prodigal, one how wrought upon by thoughts of death, 53.

Profession without practice, its folly, 166.

Purchase of office, a great evil, 117; if not • simony,' may be called ' magic,' 118.

Babbi, story of one, 21.

Heading, much, is a weariness to the flesh, but much doing is a refreshing to the spirit, 174.

Becreatiun. may be used by the Christian, if used aright, 28.

Bepentance, not pleasing to God unless it be zealous, 78.

Bobes, white, their significance variously explained, 65.

Rough, Mr, the lesson he learned in Smithfield, 52.

Sabbath, desecration of, by drinking and sports, 91.

'iSai/its, young, turn out old devils,'a false proverb, 81.

Seats, purposes of, 54; In what sense death is sealed, U}.

Seeking of Christ, in a lazy and cold manner, does not secure the enjoymeut of him, 7.

Self examination, to be duly observed at the close

of every week, month, and year, 172. Seneca, how atfccted by thoughts of the Immortality of the soul, 63 Sermon, is not done till the. hcirer has done it, 172. .Skkmons, Two Funeral, 52, el seq.; 61, el seq. Sigismund, his wise and witty saying at the

Council of Constance, 159. Sin, to be overcome, not so much by struggling

with it, as by wrestling with Christ for grace,

31 ; the lca.st, unrepented of, is ruinous, 84. Singular, Christians must be, 81. Smyrna, the poorest of the seven churches, richest

in grace, 84. Socrates, his power »t fl.^ing his eyes on an object

53. Soul, immortality sf, figures under which the

Platonists repre.sented it,G2 ; arguments for, i6. Souls under the altar, that is, enjoying safety and

rest under Christ's protection and custody, 64. Students of divinity, who do not intend to be doers

as well as students and preachers, the greatMt

of fools, 166. Suffering Is the most honourable badge of sonship,

as the nearest resemblance of Christ. 35. Stiicides, their blindness lamentable, 58. Sun is not so much admired for its beauty as its

usefulness, 165.

TertuUian argues that Christianity must be of God, since it was persecuted by Nero, 80.

Thankfulness, to parents is the sum of piety, to equals, of amity and humanity, to God, of religion, 137 ; in some cases, all that is required, in others, active thanksgiving, 138 ; its perfection is to abound in good works, 139.

Thanksgiving, not sufficiently treated of by preachers or writers, 136.

Theodosius was mcire thankful for being a Christian than for being an emperor, 141.

Toledo, eleventh council of, enjoined frequent preaching, 88.

' Truth, men of,' either opposed to hypocrites, or to those who are indifferent about truth, 125; the covetous cannot be, in either sense, 126.

Universe, all that is most excellent in, a shadow of the excellence of Christ, 5.

Viruxntinm, his noble defiance of a tyrant, 36.

Woe to Drunkards, 149, et seq.

Woman, one converted from infidelity declared that her doubts were occasioned by the vicious life of a great learned man, 169.

Worldling, at death, is stripped for scourging, the Christian puts off his clothes to go to bed after his toil, 67.

Works, good; Chrysostom calls unanswerable syllogisms, invincible demonstrations for confuting and converting pagans, 167.

Zeal, its excellence and rarity, 70 ; definitions of, 71; remarkable that no separate treatise has ever been written on, 72 ; is the intensity o< all the affections, as love, hatred, joy, grief, hope, fear, ib. ; counterfeit, its characteristics, 73 ; is reasonable in all good things, and most in the service of God, 77 ; compared to fire, 79 ; how to bu attained and maintaiued. 81.

EREATA.

P. 23, line 42, ior Zaccheus the jailor, read Zaccheus, the jailor

30 last, ... suader ... suadeo

38 5, ... Chistians ... Christians

52 17, ... president ... precedent (?)

63 8, ... shoulst ... shouldst

88 33, ... rjhuoficcsi % ... ridva/Maffi xai

89 10, ... lias ... Elias

106 28, ... VMoaraffig ... Wooraff/s

115 34, ... Tifus ... Toug

136 30, ... lauditissivia ... laudatissima

139 last, ... Cui...sacreligiuni ... Cur...sacrilegium

147 38, ... posibiles .. possibiles

I