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PRELIMINARY ESSAY.

A SPECIAL interest attaches to the first act of the individual who plays a distinguished part on the stage of life, and to the first production of the writer, who by the number of his works and the power of his genius exerts an important influence on the public mind. The one and the other seem to constitute a sort of prophetic index. Had an individual, in whom blended the philosopher and the philanthropist, been among the listeners to our Lord's sermon on the mount, the gracious words which proceeded from his mouth, and the authoritative and solemn calm of his address, would have gladdened his heart and filled him with hope. Sending his thoughts forward into the future, he would have marked the path of Jesus as one of integrity and love, illumined by a heavenly light, and conducting to a glorious end. In this case the anticipation could be in no danger of being frustrated. With Christ there was no variableness. What He was, that He should be, ever affording the same perfect exhibition of holiness and truth. It is well, however, that we are denied a foreseeing power, for the blossom of many a promise goes up as dust. In a multitude of cases, the hopes which we should be led to cherish from the first act, springing from the unsophisticated feelings and generous sympathies of youth, or the first w^ork, bearing the stamp of an unperverted mind, and breathing the spirit of noble aspiring, would be doomed to bitter disappointment.

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The records of the "mighty dead" gratify the same curiosity, while they do not inflict the same pain. The beginning, the intermediate, and the end are brought together, so that we may speedily pass from the one to the other; and the whole taking place in the region of contemplation instead of the world of action, a want of correspondency does not to a similar extent jar upon the mind.

In studying the life or the works of Baxter, however, we never require the aid of this feeling. He was true to himself throughout his long course. His path was an onward and an upward one. The spirit of the " Saints' Everlasting Rest" breathed in all his conduct and in all his productions. It serves in fact as an index to his character. " In describing this," observes his biographer, " I have no better or more appropriate term which I can employ than the word unearthly. Among his contemporaries there were men of equal talents, of more amiable dispositions, and of greater learning. But there was no man in whom there appears to have been so little of earth, and so much of heaven; so small a portion of the alloy of humanity, and so large a portion of all that is celestial. He felt scarcely any of the attraction of this world, but felt and manifested the most powerful affinity for the world to come." As the face of Moses shone when he came down from the mount from communing with the Lord, so did Baxter's meditations of heaven communicate to his character a radiance which it never lost. Before the publication of this work he never felt any inclination to write for the public. He even resisted the solicitations of many of his friends ; but of the remaining years of his life hardly one was undistinguished by the appearance of several volumes. Yet they were all more or less baptized with the spirit in which the " Everlasting Rest" is conceived, and which the subject tended materially to foster and strengthen. In many of them—in the polemical department especially—there is not a little which the juster taste of the present age will find occasion to censure ; but the condemnation will ever be passed with trembling, as upon the work of a soul " which has tasted the powers of the world to come." He was seldom out of controversy,—now ranging through the army of the Parliament,

of a temper as belligerent in spiritual matters, as the fiercest enemy of the king in his enthusiasm for civil rights,—now taking up or throwing down the gauntlet of defiance, and panting for the opportunity of public discussion,—now marshalling in the stillness of his study his " disputations and arguments and replies;" but as the athleta bathed and anointed his body for the contest, so had Baxter bathed his soul in heaven, and received the unction of the Holy One.

It is matter of deep regret that it should be the character of theological controversy—so much so that it has become a by-word— that it awakens unchristian feelings of animosity, and destroys all spirituality of mind. But the example of Baxter is sufficient to show that this is not its necessary consequence. The age in which he lived was one of strife in theology, as much as in politics. It was the true era of the Reformation in England. The yoke of Rome had indeed been previously removed, but by no simultaneous movement of the minds of the people, as had been the case in Germany and other continental nations. The consequence was, that the multitude remained still comparatively indifferent to religious doctrines, ignorant both of their own freedom and power; but now the yoke of despotism was being removed likewise, and the effort which this required, and the sensation with which it was accompanied throughout the country, aroused the slumbering energies of mind. There went abroad through the nation a spirit of inquiry, and there was claimed a liberty of judgment, which in not a few instances was pushed to licentiousness. Baxter engaged, as no other man did, in the war of opinions; but at the same time he continued to grow in grace. He was ever meetening for the inheritance of the saints in light. Towards the close of his life, in reviewing his own character,—and in his judgment of himself we think he was unduly severe,—he observes, " My judgment is much more for frequent and serious meditation on the heavenly blessedness than it was in my younger days. I then thought that a sermon on the attributes of God, and the joys of heaven, was not the most excellent; and was wont to say, ' Every

body knoweth that God is great and good, and that heaven is a blessed place : I had rather hear how I may attain it.' Nothing pleased me so well as the doctrine of regeneration and the marks of sincerity, because these things were suitable to me in that state ; but now I had rather read, hear, and meditate on God and heaven, than on any other subject. I perceive that it is the object which altereth and elevateth the mind; which will resemble that which it most frequently feedeth on. It is not only useful to our comfort to be much in heaven in believing thoughts; it must animate all our other duties, and fortify us against every temptation and sin. The love of the end is the poise or spring which setteth every wheel a going, and must put us on to all the means ; for a man is no more a Christian indeed than he is heavenly." The secret of Baxter's spirituality—which has procured for him the honourable epithet that cometh from above, "The holy"—lay in the habit of heavenly meditation; as indeed it constitutes itself the essence of all spirituality. Whenever the Christian in controversy descends from argument to acrimony, from the simple and almighty exhibition of truth to sarcastic hits and sly insinuations, it is because his spirit's rest is elsewhere than in heaven, and he comes not forth into the arena of debate, as into the field of duty and from the armoury of the closet.

An undue influence is sometimes attributed to the circumstances of the times in forming the characters of Baxter and some of his distinguished contemporaries; perhaps we should say more correctly, that the way in which these circumstances operated is not properly understood. The character of Baxter was formed by the truth of God's word, received by a most perspicacious intellect, and allowed to mould the whole being after its own fashion. He was not led by the convulsions of the times to contemplate the heavenly rest. His spirit was formed for stormy times: had he been confined to the gloom and solitude of a cloister, he would have been consumed by his own fire. It is true that the strong and lofty soul was imprisoned in a most delicate body, but his life afforded an unparalleled example of the superiority of spirit over matter. He was not of

a temper of mind to be depressed by the changes of human affairs. Amid the turmoil and tossing which attended the civil contests, he would be at rest, or warmed into a glow of satisfaction by the surrounding tumult. He could enjoy all this, even " as the war-horse paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength, as he goeth on to meet the armed men, as he saith among the trumpets. Ha ! ha! and smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting." The circumstances of the times tended to increase the natural energy of Baxter's mind, and afforded full scope for its display. It was not the practical illustration which they gave of the insufficiency of the world—the instability of its highest dignities, and the unsatisfactoriness of its highest honours— that drew him away from earth, and led him to have his conversation in heaven. This was done by the deep feeling of religion as the proper business of the soul. He reasoned as an angel might reason, who knows the capacities of the soul, but has not experienced the comparative worthlessness of earth. It was the convictioH of his spiritual faculties, and the clear perception of their nature, and of the entire adaptation to them of the gospel and the glory which is revealed, that imparted the beauty of holiness to his character, and a seraphic fervour to all his sermons and writings. He did not rise above the earth because it rocked beneath his feet, and the fashion of it was continually changing, but because he felt that it could give his nobler being no suitable satisfaction—that even in all its fascination, and pomp, and glory, it was to the immortal spirit vanity, and vexation, and woe. He had drawn nigh to the throne, penetrating the veil of the unseen, and the light of God's countenance had fallen upon his soul, and he felt thereafter that earth could not be his portion ; just as a seraph that has rejoiced before the Almighty, would spurn all the kingdoms of this world and the glory of them.

" The holy Baxter " is a title more honourable in the sight of Heaven, than the epithet which marks the greatest degree of earthly dignity. That he in the " holy nation " should possess this high distinction is indicative of something wrong; for in reference to

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every member of it this is the will of God^—even his sanctification; and this was the wish of Paul,—even his perfection. It is not meant that the holiness of Baxter has never been equalled. Far from it. There are many whose names the world, not being worthy of them, has not recorded, that will occupy a place in heaven as near to the throne as he, having walked as closely with God upon earth; but still the simple fact that this term has been applied to him with a sort of exclusive meaning, proves that in the multitude of professing Christians there is a mournful short-coming of the mark at which he aimed, and to which he rose. This should not be. His excellence was not occasioned by any peculiarities of the age in which he lived, but was the fruit of the unchangeable word of God, springing up within his soul. He obeyed this word, and so purified his heart; and, to use words which have been already quoted, "perceiving that it is the object which altereth and ele-vateth the mind," he directed his mind to holy objects and to hea venly contemplations. In vain will any one pant after holiness unless he pursue the same course, but doing this he is certain of equal success.

We have no very minute record of Baxter's character prior to the publication of " The Saints' Everlasting Rest." It gave promise doubtless of his future eminence in piety, but the conception and writing of this work formed an epoch in his life. Of this he was aware himself, for in the dedication of it to the inhabitants of Kidderminster, speaking of its occasion and results, he says, " Being in my quarters (with the army) far from home, cast into extreme languishing, by the sudden loss of about a gallon of blood, after many years' foregoing weakness, and having no acquaintance about me, nor any book but my Bible, and living in continual expectation of death, I bent my thoughts on my everlasting rest; and because my memory through extreme weakness was imperfect, I took my pen and began to draw up my own funeral sermon, or some helps for my own meditations of heaven, to sweeten both the rest of my life and my death. In this condition God was pleased to continue me about five months from home; where, being able for nothing

else, I went on with this work, which so lengthened to this which here you see. It is no wonder, therefore, if I be too abrupt in the beginning, seeing I then intended but the length of a sermon or two ; much less may you wonder if the whole be very imperfect, seeing it was written, as it were, with one foot in the grave, by a man that was betwixt living and dead, that wanted strength of nature to quicken invention or affection, and had no book but his Bible, while the chief part was finished; nor any mind of human ornaments if he had been furnished. But oh how sweet is this providence now to my review, which so happily forced me to that work of meditation which I had formerly found so profitable to my soul, and showed me more mercy in depriving me of other helps than I was aware of, and hath caused my thoughts to feed on this heavenly subject, and hath more benefited me than all the studies of my life ! "

It was good for him that he was afflicted, being thereby made partaker of the Divine holiness. During the five months of his sickness, the Lord visited him as a refiner, and purified and purged him as gold and silver, that he might offer unto the Lord an offering of righteousness. Having dwelt so long upon the borders of eternity, he learned and realized much of its indescribable length and breadth, and height and depth, and was delivered from the thraldom of time. " As the lark," says he, " sings sweetly while she soars on high, but is suddenly silenced when she falls to the earth ; so is the frame of the soul most delightful and divine, while it keepeth God in view by contemplation: but, alas ! we make there too short a stay, and lay by our music." It is the nature of the lark, however, to rise to heaven, and give utterance to its joy near the fount of light; and it was fortunate for Baxter that through the long stay which he was compelled to make studying the everlasting rest, this became nature with him. His meditations of heaven were so protracted, that his soul was completely imbued with them, and ever after he could not be on earth other than a stranger and pilgrim, looking forward to the better country, that is, the heavenly.

The treatise lengthened far beyond the author's original intention. Of the four parts in which it is comprised, he designed at the commencement only the first and last,—the last principally, being, from the nature of its contents—directions for the getting and keeping of the heart in heaven—most adapted to sweeten the rest of his life and his death. It would have been a difficult matter for him, however, to compose a sermon, or to produce a work, in which he contemplated nothing more than to edify and console. To convince and convert, to reprove gainsayers, and to rescue souls from the everlasting burnings, were the objects in the pursuit of which above all others he might be said to live, and move, and have his being. Accordingly he added the second part, to evince the certainty of the rest, and that the Scripture, upon whose promises the hope of it is grounded, is the perfect infallible word and law of God ; and the third, containing a number of most pungent appeals to the sinner to move from his death in trespasses and sins, and lay hold on the glorious hope, and to the people of God, " to persuade hem to the great duty of helping to save their brethren's souls."

Without the third part, the work would have been incomplete ; but not a few will wish that the second, or at least a considerable portion of it, had been omitted. Some will think that such a controversial discussion is out of place in a devotional treatise ; and certainly it is a great descent from communing with God to wrestle with sceptics. The reader whose wish is to know more of the powers of the world to come, and to be stirred up to increased activity in his Master's service, will sustain no loss, if he pass at once from the first part to the eighth chapter of the second. But before the introduction of such a subject be set down among the sins against prudence with which Baxter was frequently chargeable, and is still more frequently charged, the character of his own mind—by no means peculiar—and the nature of the times should be taken into account. His soul fed on truth. " Who," he inquires, " will set his heart on the goodness of a thing, that is not certain of its truth?" A new argument, or the better exhibition

of an old one, caused him as much delight as the occurrence of a new thought concerning the rest, or the flashing on his previous conceptions of a new light. It pushed the object of his love nearer to his heart. He derived enjoyment not only from going into the temple and worshipping, but from walking about Zion, and going round about her, and telling the towers thereof; from marking well her bulwarks and considering her palaces. In regard to the everlasting rest itself, this exercise of mind about its certainty occasioned him a feeling of exultation, similar to that which led David, in the conclusion of the Psalm, the language of which we have adopted, to exclaim,—" This God is our God for ever and ever." It caused no loss of devotional feeling to the author, nor will the perusal of great part of it cause any to minds which are of a corresponding order.

It should be remembered likewise, that the age was a very peculiar one—though presenting many points of analogy to the character of the present times. " All the winds of doctrine," as Milton says, " were let loose to play upon the earth," It was necessary that " truth should be prepared to grapple with falsehood, and sustain no injury in a free and open encounter." The exhortation of Peter never was more applicable—that believers should be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh them a reason of the hope that is in them. Baxter felt himself that he was set for the defence of the gospel; and while he was anxious to induce in all the godly and orthodox a similar feeling, he wanted at the same time to put arms into their hands.

These remarks may refute the charge of impropriety for entering, in such a work, into the evidences of revelation ; but we fully agree with Mr. Orme, that " the discussions and stories about apparitions, witches, and compacts with the devil, are blemishes on the fair face of this beautiful production." It is in the fourth and last argument for the truth of the Scriptures that these are introduced. Having made one main branch of his reasoning to depend on the existence of the devil, and his seeking our eternal undoing, he proceeds to prove both the one and the other by his temptations; by

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apparitions ; by their possessions and dispossessions; and by the devil's contracts with witches. On the subject of apparitions, he quotes from the " learned godly Zanchius " to the elFect, that " he wonders any should deny that there are such spirits as from the effects are called hags, or fairies, that is, such as exercise familiarity with men, and do, without hurting men's bodies, come to them-and trouble them, and as it were play with them. I could (saith he) bring many examples of persons yet alive, that have experience of these on themselves." With regard to possessions, he confesses that " there have been many counterfeits of this kind; but the history of the dispossession of the devil out of many persons together in a room in Lancashire, at the prayer of some godly ministers, is very famous; read the book and judge. Amojig the papists possessions are common ; though very many of them are the priests' and Jesuits' delusions." Most " palpable " in his opinion is the case of witches. " If any one should doubt whether there be any such witches, who work by the power of the devil, or have any compact with him, he hath as good opportunity now to be easily resolved, as hath been known in most ages. Let him go but into Suffolk, or Essex, or Lancashire, &c. and he may quickly be informed. Sure it were strange if in an age of so much knowledge and conscience, there should so many scores of poor creatures be put to death as witches, if it were not clearly manifest that they were such. We have too many examples lately among us, to leave any doubt of the truth of this."

That a man of Baxter's perspicacity and truthfulness should have given way to these vagaries of the times is much to be lamented. But he was not singular. The fault was common to him and the most enlightened of his contemporaries. It may sometimes furnish occasion for a sneer against religion, but this will fall harmless and unheeded upon all who have learned their religion from the Bible, and imbibed the spirit of Baxter. It was one of those corruptions of the Romish church, from the trammels of which protestantism could not all at once escape. In the first place, a belief in demoniac agency, exerting itself in the several ways which our

author mentions, passed over from the heathen world into the Christian church. In process of time the true would have been discriminated from the false. The light of God's word irradiating the minds of men, would have delivered them from the bondage of the erroneous views received from their fathers. The mysterious providence of God, however, permitted His truth to be corrupted, and amalgamated with the spurious doctrines of men. Not only did the pagan temples pass into the hands of Christian worshippers, but pagan errors for selfish ends were united with the disclosures of the Bible. The belief above mentioned, along with many other monstrous opinions and practices, was stereotyped in the creed of Europe by the papacy, to subserve its own mercenary and atrocious lust of wealth ; and the spirit of the Reformation was fatal to it as to all the other abominations of the " man of sin."

Nor should we forget that the age of the Reformers on the continent and the age of Baxter were most marvellous in their character. The kingdoms of this world, both civil and ecclesiastical, were shaken and overturned by individuals rising from among the lowest ranks. Men found themselves possessed of powers of whose existence they had never dreamed, and animated with an energy to which they had been total strangers. They felt unusual impulses, and having no records of previous experience of a similar order, it was no wonder that they did not immediately discard a dogma of their creed, which furnished an easy explanation of the phenomena.

A more heavy charge than that of believing in witchcraft ma.y be fixed on Baxter from this part of the Saints' Rest, and for which it is not possible to offer the same apology, or indeed any apology at all. We allude to the protests which he takes occasion to enter against liberty of conscience. " They talk," says he sneeringly, " of a toleration of all religions, and some desire that the Jews may have free commerce among us. The libertines think it necessary that we should have such a toleration to discover the unsound." " If a bare connivance of these divisions (he subjoins in a note) have already occasioned such a combustion, what do we

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think would a toleration do ? a toleration of all sorts of sects, and schisms, and heresies, and blasphemies, which is by some, (and those more than a good many,) under the abused notion of liberty of conscience, so earnestly pleaded for ? For my own part, should this be once yielded, (which I hope their eyes shall first fail that look for it,) I should look on it as the passing-bell to the church's peace and glory, if not to the true religion of God in this kingdom." In this he was behind the spirit of his age, and that on a subject which must have engaged much of his attention. He never would have been a persecutor himself, but he would not have denied to the secular power the right to compel recusants to submit to the form of church government, and acknowledge the views of Scripture truth, which he regarded as right. We do not attempt to justify nor to extenuate the fault of Baxter in this matter. Freedom of judgment in religion is essential to responsibility. No man will be able to answer for another before the tribunal of God, and it is the duty therefore of every man to think and decide for himself, while he is accomplishing the period of his probation. The right of private judgment may be productive of temporary evil, just as the freedom of the press may be perverted to pernicious purposes, but like this latter it contains within itself a principle of rectification. It is pleasing to contemplate the failure of Baxter's prediction. The toleration which he so much di-eaded, and from which he anticipated nothing less than the destruction of the church's peace and glory, has been accorded for a length of time, and been accompanied with the most beneficial effects both to the church and the world. It is with error as with spirits;— it is the condition of both that they

" Cannot but by annihilating die."

The sword of civil power wielded against error has no more effect than the sword of Michael, when it passed through the body of Satan, and the ethereal substance instantly closed. But the sword of truth consumes as well as cuts. Error cannot subsist before it, and the result of every fair encounter must be, that the latter will

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become as though it had never been. " All sorts of sects, and heresies, and schisms" are now tolerated, but the cause of God prospers. Let truth be left to fight its own battles, and it will overthrow all opposing authority, and establish its kingdom from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof.

We have been kept too long by these blemishes from the more grateful themes of the Everlasting Rest. But the errors of such a man as Baxter are instructive. That with all his metaphysical acumen and fearless intellect he should have been enthralled by a weakness which children now are taught to ridicule, may instruct us to sympathize and bear with the struggles of the mind, which we are endeavouring to deliver from the meshes of error. That with a character of Christian excellence, which makes churchmen and dissenters both claim the sanction of his name, he should have clung to a doctrine which contains in it the essence of persecution, may impart a spirit of charity in the contest which now divides the Christian world—a contest we believe the result of which will be to perfect the Reformation of the 16th century, exalting the Bible in the church, not only as a book of doctrines, but likewise as a book of discipline, " there to reign supreme as the very word of the living God."

The arguments of Baxter for the authority of the Scriptures deserve notice, as being the first original effort on the part of any English writer to exhibit the evidences of revealed religion. With the exception of that on which we have animadverted they are worthy of him, and will abundantly repay an attentive perusal. The subject he would then have entered upon at much greater length but for the importunities of friends, to whom these discussions appeared, as they do to many now, inconsistent with the design of a devotional treatise. To the author himself, however, they never so appeared. We dismiss the subject in the words of his own final review of his character and works:—" Upon my more mature reviews, I find that I said not half that which the subject did require in some of my writings : as, e. g., in the doctrines of the covenants and of justification, but especially about

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the Divine authority of the Scripture in the second part of the Saints' Rest."

They will be greatly disappointed who expect to find in the Saints' Everlasting Rest any thing of mysticism. Nothing was more foreign to the mind and habits of the writer, iVll his elevation was intelligent and practical. If his spirit at times was raised to ecsta.sy, it was through an inability to sustain the brightness that streamed from the discoveries of an ever-active intellect. There was no quietude about him. His mind never sank into a mood, which might be imaged by the sea-bird floating on a waveless ocean. The term " rest" is given to " the most happy estate," about which the thoughts of Baxter were occupied, with reference to the Christian's toilsome pilgrimage on earth, and is not to be understood as intimating any cessation of action. " It is the perfect endless fruition of God, by the perfected saints, according to the measure of their capacity, to which their souls arrive at death, and both soul and body most fully after the resurrection and final judgment," This by no means supposes a listlessness of the mental powers or a torpor of the affections. The very reverse indeed is the case, all the powers of the soul being directed to their proper objects, and the aifections of the heart exercised with the greatest yet sweetest intensity. It is a rest from sin and sorrow and doubt,—a deliverance from the allurements and shackles of earth,—" a sweet and constant action of all the powers of the soul and body in the enjoyment of God." Heaven, according to this conception,—a conception founded on right reason and God's word,—is the sphere in which the soul acts according to the proper laws of its being. To the right understanding of the devotional and practical treatises of our author, it is necessary that the reader keep prominently before the mind his views concerning the high nature and capabilities of the soul, as formed for God, and finding its due gratification only in his fulness. The dark cloud w hich sin has brought over the understanding being dispelled, and the wrong direction which it has given to the will being rectified, the soul bounds forward to

the discharge of its natural functions. The body of death being replaced by an immortal and spiritual body, all its members become the ready instruments of the spirit—inlets through which are received the purest and most refined pleasures. The barrier that has been raised up between the reflective and emotional parts of our constitution being removed, every new field which opens to the mind becomes a source of unmingled joy. God is all in all. Whatever faculty be exercised, whether memory, or reason, or perception, the soul turns naturally from its object to God, as the flower turns its leaves to the sun. And from the blessed Spirit himself there flows to every spirit made perfect a perpetual stream of blessing. This is heaven—the glorious liberty of the sons of God.

On a reconsideration of the work, Baxter wished that, when treating of the several elements of the rest, he had introduced other two—that we shall be members of the heavenly Jerusalem, and see the face of our glorified Redeemer. No small portion of the delight of heaven will arise from these two sources—the companionship of the innumerable company of angels and of all the good in the universe, and the constant beholding of the glory which God has given to our Lord. The former will demand the most lively exertion of our powers; for who supposes that those spirits which excel in wisdom and in strength are not most active, soaring to the loftiest heights, and descending to the greatest depths, in their endeavours to comprehend the dispensations of the Most High, and traversing with inconceivable rapidity the longest distances of space, in the execution of his will ? How elevated must be their conceptions of his being, for sin has never deadened the glance nor lessened the strength of their faculties ! How vast must be the range of their knowledge, for old, I had almost written, as the eternity of God, they have ever been supplied out of his fulness, and given themselves to the contemplation of his character and works ! To be fellow citizens with them will confer the richest enjoyment, and require the utmost activity. The latter—the vision and enjoyment of our glorified Redeemer—will

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constitute the chief ingredient of the heavenly hlesseclness. It formed the last petition of his intercessory prayer, that they whom the Father had given to him might be with him where he was, that they might behold his glory. Our God and Saviour will be the object of universal adoration. Before the throne of Inmianuel, God with us, angels and archangels, " every creature which is in heaven, and in the earth, and under the earth," will worship. And the perfected saint will have more than the vision of this honour, and the satisfaction thence derived. By virtue of his union with the Lord, he will have a participation in it. To him it will be granted to sit down with Christ in his throne. Whether the everlasting rest will include any service of God in connexion with this glory of the Redeemer beyond the limits of the heavenly temple, is an inquiry upon which Baxter does not enter. Since the mediatorial scheme, from its surpassing exhibition of the Divine character, is of universal interest,—since the cross of Christ is the means whereby God will reconcile all things to himself, whether they be things in earth or things in heaven,—and since the redeemed are those who can descant most eloquently on its virtues, and testify most strongly of its power, it may be one of their future engagements to set it up and make it known throughout the universe. But the character of his mind was not discursive nor speculative, and he limited himself to the exercise of his reason on the disclosures of Scripture. Whether this kind of action, however, belong to the future state or not, it is to be regretted that his mind was not more directed to consider this element of the rest, for the worth of the soul is much increased by virtue of its union with Christ. The cardinal point of his practical theology would in this way have received additional weight, for the soul that is lost is not that of the man merely, but that for which the Son of God died—which through the fact of redemption might be brought near to God with a new and peculiar order of emotions, surpassing any that Adam experienced when the light of Jehovah's countenance fell upon him in paradise; and which, through the same fact, being constituted a priest and a king to God, and a

joint-heir of God with Christ, might be raised higher in the scale of being, than it were possible for a child of man otherwise to occupy.

The contemplation of heaven increased Baxter's appreciation of the worth and proper business of the soul, inducing, instead of the constrained acknowledgment of reason, the ever-present and active consciousness of the truth. It was his experience, indeed, that without the habit of heavenly meditation his piety was sure to droop. " I have found," says he, " by reason and experience, as well as Scripture, that it is not our comfort only, but our stability, our liveliness in all our duties, our enduring tribulation, our honouring of God, the vigour of our love, thankfulness, and all our graces, yea, the very being of our religion, and Christianity itself, that dependeth on the believing serious thoughts of our rest. The end directeth to and in the means. To know what is indeed your end and happiness, and heartily to take it so to be, is the very first stone in the foundation of religion : most souls that perish in the Christian world, do perish for want of being sincere in this point. In a word, we can neither live safely, profitably, piously, conscionably, or comfortably, nor die so, without believing serious considerations of our rest."

It was not possible for him, after having dwelt upon the realities of eternity, to be absorbed by the frivolous concerns of time— after having tasted the business of angels, to enter with zest into the trifling businesses of men. It was not possible for him to be satisfied with earth, to feel any powerful influence of the things which are seen and temporal. Man's bustling life appeared to him, as he has expressed it in his work entitled "■ Crucifying the World by the Cross of Christ," to be " but like children's games, where all is done in jest, and which wise men account not worthy of their observance. It is but like the acting of a comedy, where great persons and actions are personated and counterfeited ; and a pompous stir there is for a while, to please the foolish spectators, that themselves may be pleased by their applause, and then they come down and the sport is ended, and ihey are as they were. It

is but like a puppet-play, where there is great doings to little purpose; or like the busy gadding of the laborious ants, to gather together a little sticks and straw, which the spurn of a man's foot will soon disperse." Is not this the very height of reason? Is it or is it not the case that here we have no abiding city ?—that we are full of immortal longings, which God only can satisfy ?—that we are destined to join the multitude which no man can number, rejoicing for ever in the light and service of God and the Lamb, or to be banished to the companionship of the blasphemous, and odious, and impure, according to the temper of mind and habits of life which we cultivate and display while we are here ?—If this be true, what ought our life to be but a walk with God, a preparation for the engagements of the other state, a constant struggle with and victory over the world and the things thereof? There are few if any professing Christians who would controvert the reasonableness of these views, and yet how few act under their habitual impression ! They are in the world, and it would be hard to discover that they are not of the world—anxious about its gains as other men, equally grasping at its honours, and fearful of its brand. This should not be, and this would not be, were the example of Baxter followed. Were the future to be contemplated as much as the present,—were the nature of the soul and the engagements of heaven and hell to be dwelt upon,—his style of thinking and tone of mind would not be a strange thing to meet with. " What! should we prefer a molehill before a kingdom ? A shadow before the substance ? An hour before eternity ? Nothing before all things ? Vanity and vexation before felicity ? The cross of Christ hath set up such a sun as quite darkeneth the light of worldly glory. Though earth were something, if there were no better to be had, it is nothing when heaven standeth by." It is a most important observation which we have already quoted from one of his last productions, that a man is a Christian just so far as he is heavenly. This has been the distinguishing feature of God's people since the beginning of the world. "It is written of Cain," observes Augustine, " that he built a city. But Abel lived on earth as a stranger, and built

none ; for the city of the saints is above, though its citizens are born here and tarry a while, till the kingdom comes to which they belong."

It is to be observed likewise, that through this habit of heavenly meditation Baxter was enabled to maintain a wonderful equanimity of mind, though his trials and sufterings were exceedingly severe. He was the constant victim of disease, seldom blessed with a remission of pain. His name was often assailed by slander, and he was subjected to the most extravagant accusations. He was driven from the people among whom his labours were abundantly blessed of God, and suffered cruel persecution and imprisonment for righteousness' sake. Endowed with a most restless spirit and ardent temperament, he was ever harassed by the prevalence of religious views opposed to his own, and the course of public affairs proceeding contrary to his wishes and efforts. Notwithstanding all these afflictions, we have his own testimony that his life was happy and joyful; and Dr. Bates, in his funeral sermon, asks—"Who ever heard an unsubmissive word drop from his lips ? " The rest which remaineth cheered his soul, and enabled him to possess it in perfect peace. It threw the shadow of a holy calm forward upon his spirit. He was not more familiar by rude experience with the differences of men and the distractions of controversy, than by realizing anticipations with "the multitude of one heart, of one mind, and one employment." The thought of heaven as the harmonious convocation of the good smoothed his asperities, and imparted a tranquil delight such as the discovery of the dwelling of the nymphs gave to the weary and storm-tossed Trojans. The thought of it as the place where sorrow and sighing should flee away—where all tears should be wiped from the eye, and all doubt and grief be removed from the soul—subdued him to patience, and restrained all murmurs and repining.

Such was the consequence of his habitual study of the everlasting rest. Probably he was deemed by the world a joyless, cheerless ascetic, one who went mourning all the day, for in nothing does it conceive more falsely of religion than in its tendency

to diffuse a sweet tranquillity and joy. There is no rest on earth. It produces no halsam for the wounds which it inflicts,—discloses no haven from the storms with which it is ruffled. There is in every breast a longing which it cannot satisfy—a void which it cannot fill. It was an address from Christ to the whole human race— Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Sooner or later, though it may be only for a brief instant, being effaced by the brand of worldliness, or overwhelmed by the gust of passion, there arise in all the feeling of want and an earnest craving.

There must be a sad failing in the general character of religious persons, when such a misconception, as we have mentioned, can prevail. Religion is the life of God in the soul, yet may not the finger of scorn be often pointed at those who cultivate it with the exclamation—Where is your God ? The hands are allowed to hang down, and the knees to wax feeble, and depression and gloom to settle on the mind, because the duty which Baxter enjoins is neglected. Were the attention sufficiently directed to the rest which remaineth, and the glory which is to be revealed, and the joy which awaits, songs of deliverance would be more frequent, and the courageous bearing and undisturbed equanimity would speedily set the world's opinion right, and have not a little influence in carrying to the conviction and the heart the invitation of Jesus.

We observed that the devotion of Baxter was practical. It not only promoted the purity of his own heart, and served as an antidote to the trials of his lot, but it also led him with more intense eagerness to desire the good of others. He was taught by his exercises on the everlasting rest to feel the worth of the soul, and a heavy grief pressed upon his mind, when he thought that this invaluable possession might in any case be lost. There was not a grain of selfishness in his nature. He retired to commune with God, that he might be better fitted to contend with men. No man ever had more reason to inscribe over the door of his closet the w^ords of Peter,—"It is good to be here;" yet that closet was but the spirit's resting-place, where he recruited his

energies, and prepared anew for the course of duty. " The proper value of the contemplative life/' observes Orme, " in him was thus strikingly illustrated." He gave himself to it in the spirit of that wisdom, which, according to Milton,

" Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where, with her best nurse Contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle and resort Had been too ruffled and sometimes impaired."

When the brightness of the Divine glories flashed upon his mind, and the high nature of the soul's engagements in the upper world occupied his understanding, he could not but feel, when he contemplated the thoughtlessness and heedless career of the majority of men, as Jesus felt when he wept over Jerusalem. How affect-ingly does he open the inconceivable misery of the ungodly in their loss of the rest! " If this rest be for none but the people of God, what doleful tidings is this to the ungodly- world ! That there is so much glory, but none for them ! so great joys for the saints of God, while they must consume in perpetual sorrows! such rest for them that have obeyed the gospel, while they must be restless in the flames of hell! If thou who readest these words art in thy soul a stranger to Christ, and to the holy nature and life of his people, and art not of them who are before described, and shalt live and die in the same condition that thou art now in; I am a messenger of the saddest tidings to thee, that ever yet thy ears did hear; that thou shalt never partake of the joys of heaven, nor have the least taste of the saints' eternal rest." We do not know that there are in his " Reformed Pastor" four chapters more calculated to awaken the serious thoughtfulness of sinners, and especially to stir up the energies of those whose business it is to win souls, than the four opening chapters of the third book, addressed to the ungodly. Baxter displays in them the most masterly acquaintance with the human heart,—exposes its sophistries, detects its subterfuges, rouses its fears, lays hold of its hopes. He wants to lead the sinner to flee from the wrath to come, and

seek the everlasting rest, and he will not have his purpose frustrated. He is pleading for immortal souls, and he will not be repelled by the risings of their pride. He unfolds the magnitude of their loss, and brings the clearest reason to demonstrate that with an agonizing consciousness they shall feel it; with a graphic pen he enlarges on the various aggravations of their miserable lot ; and finding them still stout-hearted, grapples closely with the heart and conscience, clutches them with a giant grasp, and throws a clear and confounding light into their dark chambers, until it is hardly possible for the sinner not to writhe under his revelations and warnings. At the same time there is nothing harsh or severe about the style; it is the pleading of " a dying man with dying men," the uttered, yet unutterable agony of love. " Alas ! it is no pleasure to a minister to speak to people upon such an unwelcome subject, any more than it is to a pitiful physician to tell his patient, I do despair of your life, except you let blood. Why, I beseech you, think on it reasonably without prejudice or passion, and tell me where doth God give any hope of your salvation, till you are new creatures ? And will it do you any good for a minister to give you hopes where God gives you none ; or would you desire him to do so ? Why, what would you think of such a minister when those hopes forsake you; or what thanks will you give him when you find yourself in hell ? Would you not there lie and curse him for a deceiver for ever ? I know this to be true, and therefore I had rather you were displeased with me here, than curse me there."

The thought of the soul's inestimable worth must ever supply the fuel of ministerial zeal—the feeling that his message is one of eternal importance in its results, must ever communicate an intense energy to the addresses of the preacher, and a deep pathos to his appeals. He has taken upon him to be the keeper of his brethren's souls, and woe unto him if their blood should cry against him from hell! And all permanent good must be effected by forcing on the sinner's mind the conviction of his immortality, and the solemn interest which belongs to this life from its determination on the condition of the future.

" Behold! O man, thy soul was formed by God for himself. It is of a finer texture than the trodden clod—endowed with an intelligence of a higher nature than animal instinct. It is a vile degradation of its powers to feed it only with the heggarly elements of earth—thou oughtest to set thy affections on things that are above, and to commune with the invisible and the eternal. It is the property of God, and thou wrongest him. Thou robbest the Almighty —thou art treasuring up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God. Thou canst not perish absolutely, for God will not annihilate thee. Be zealous and repent, lest thou become an eternal monument of his just vengeance. Oh that some Jonas had this point in hand, to cry in your ears, ' Yet a few days and the rebellious shall be destroyed ;' till you were brought down on your knees in sackcloth and in ashes ! Oh if some John Baptist might cry it abroad, ' Now is the axe laid to the root of the trees; every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire !' Oh that some son of thunder, who could speak as Paul, till the hearers tremble, were now to preach this doctrine to thee ! Alas ! as terribly as you think I speak, yet is it not the thousandth part of what must be felt; for what heart can now possibly conceive, or what tongue can express, the dolours of those souls that are under the wrath of God ? Ah, that ever blind sinners should wilfully bring themselves to such unspeakable misery! You will then be crying to Jesus Christ,—Oh, mercy ! Oh, pity, pity on a poor soul! Why, I do now in the name of the Lord Jesus cry to thee, Oh, have mercy, have pity, man, upon thine own soul! ' Who can stand before the Lord, and who can abide the fierceness of his anger?' Methinks thou shouldst need no more words, but presently cast away thy soul-damning sins, and wholly deliver up thyself to Christ. Resolve on it immediately, man, and let it be done, that I may see thy face in rest among the saints. The Lord persuade thy heart to strike this covenant without any longer delay; but if thou be hardened unto death, and there be no remedy, yet do not say

another day but that thou wast faithfully warned, and that thou hadst a friend that would fain have prevented thy damnation."

We have touched on some of the most marked features of the Saints' Everlasting Rest, and the corresponding developments of the author's character. Whatever there was in him of unearthly excellence was owing in a great measure to his habit of heavenly meditation, induced and fostered by the composition of this work. This made his religion one of enjoyment and activity, and his preaching of distinguished usefulness. It is seldom that the labours of ministers have been followed by such abundant tokens of God's favour. A rude and dissolute population were subdued under him by the power of Divine grace, and exhibited the beauties and excellences of the Christian character. The energy of his own mind and his earnest concern for the good of souls were diffused among his people. " They thirsted," says he, " after the salvation of their neighbours, and were in private my assistants; and being dispersed throughout the town, were ready in almost all companies to repress seducing words, and to justify godliness, convince, reprove, and exhort men according to their needs ; as also to teach them how to pray, and to help them to sanctify the Lord's day," Through their united labours, the moral world budded and blossomed ai'ound them, and became as the garden of the Lord. In the habit, the importance of cultivating which we would impress upon our readers, lay the secret of his strength. His radiant piety gave him a mighty influence with men ; there is indeed about it a moral power which the world cannot withstand. And no wonder, for it indicates the presence of the Most High. The same habit, cultivated with the same diligence and zest, will be accompanied with the same success in others. No man is straitened in God. Baxter, of weak bodily presence, and a martyr to disease, was a most unlikely instrument to accomplish such effects. We need only to have in every town throughout the kingdom ministers of a similar spirit, who walk with God, and whose labours are baptized with prayer, and a peo-

pie will be found ready to co-operate in every good work, and the success which attended his preaching will not be denied to theirs. We need only thi'oughout the world to have labourers, who are equally men of God, having their hearts in heaven, and " the Spirit will be poured from on high, and the wilderness be a fruitful field, and the fruitful field be counted for a forest."

The Saints' Rest has been eminently blessed of God to the promotion of piety. The spirit of it is communicative; and that such a work is now called for, is one of the most favourable signs of the times.

How would the church revive, and cast abroad its roots, and diffuse a most pleasant fragrance, were the rest to become the object of all believers' habitual contemplation ! Bickerings and contention would be shrunk from. Joy and gladness, thanksgiving and the voice of melody, would resound in the habitations of the righteous. A spirit of calm repose would brood over our world, and shed its gentle yet powerful influence upon the minds of men. The God of peace and love would rejoice over his people with joy and singing, and the time would be much accelerated, when, as our world rolls round its multitude of holy and happy inhabitants, he would have occasion again to pronounce it good.

We conclude with a few stanzas out of Orme from Baxter's " Exit," where he takes his leave of the world, and longs to be in heaven.

My soul, go boldly forth, Forsake this sinful earth ; What hath it been to thee,

But pain and sorrow ? And thinkest thou 'twill be

Better to-morrow ?

Look up towards heaven and see How vast those regions be, Where blessed spirits dwell;

How pure and lightful! But earth is near to hell;

How dark and frightful!

PRELIMINARY ESSAY.

Jeruf3alem above, Glorious in light and love, Is mother of us all.

Who shall enjoy them ? The wicked hell-ward fall,

Sin will destroy them,

God is essential love ; And all the saints above Are like unto him made.

Each in his measure. Love is their life and trade,

Their constant pleasure.

What joy must there needs be, Where all God's glory see ! Feeling God's vital love.

Which still is burning; And flaming God-ward move,

Full love returning.

PAGE

Chap. VI. An exhortation to seriousness in seeking rest .... 268 VII. Use 3.—Persuading all men to try their title to this rest; and

directing them how to try that they may know . . . 289 VIII. Further causes of doubting among Christians . . .305

IX. Containing an exhortation, and motives to examine . . 315 X. Containing directions for examination, and some marks for trial 324

XI. A more exact inquiry into the number and use of marks; the nature of sincerity; with other things of great moment in

the work of self-examination 332

XII. Use 4.—The reason of the saints' afflictions here . . . 3/2

XIII. Use 5.—An exhortation to those that have got assurance of this

rest, or title to it, that they would do all that possibly they can to help others to it also 3S5

XIV. An advice to some more specially to help others to this rest,

pressed largely on ministers and parents . . . .416

THE FOURTH PART.

A DIRECTORY FOR THE GETTING AND KEEPING OF THE HEART IN HEAVEN.

Chap. I. Use G. —Reproving our expectations of rest on earth . . 454 II. Use 7-—Repi'oving our unwillingness to die .... 465

III. Motives to a heavenly life 4S2

IV. Containing some hinderances of a heavenly life . . . 517 V. Some general helps to a heavenly life 534

VI. Containing the desci'iption of the great duty of heavenly contemplation 547

VII. Containing the fittest time and place for this contemplation,

and the preparation of the heart unto it ... . 555 VIII. Of consideration, the instrument of this work; and what force

it hath to move the soul 570

IX. What affections must be acted, and by what considerations and

objects, and in what order 574

X. By what actings of the soul to proceed in this work of heavenly

contemplation 592

XI. Some advantages and helps, for raising and affecting the soul by

this meditation 597

XII. How to manage and watch over the heart through the whole work 615

XIII. The abstract, or sum of all, for the use of the weak . . . 620

XIV. An example of this heavenly contemplation, for the help of the

unskilful 622

The Conclusion 652

Broughton in the conclusion of his " Consent of Scripture," concerning the new Jerusalem, and the everlasting sabbatism, meant in my text,

as begun here, and perfected in heaven 658

A Poem of Master G. Herbert, in his " Temple " 660

An addition to the eleventh chapter of the third part of the " Saints' Rest" 662 To the Reader 667

SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST.

PART I.

THERE EEMAINETH THEREFOIIE A REST TO THE PEOPLE OF GOD.—HEB. IV. 9.

CHAPTER I.

Sect. 1. It was not only our interest in God, and actual fruition of him, which was lost in Adam's covenant-breaking fall, but all spiritual knowledge of him, and true disposition towards such a felicity. Man hath now a heart too suitable to his estate ; a low state, and a low spirit. And (as some expound that of Luke xviii. 8) when the Son of God comes with recovering grace, and discoveries and tenders of a spiritual and eternal happiness and glory, he finds not faith in man to believe it. But as the poor man that would not believe that any one man had such a sum as a hundred pounds, (it was so far above what he possessed,) so man will hardly now believe that there is such a happiness as once he had, much less as Christ hath now procured. When God would give the Israelites his sabbaths of rest in a land of rest, he had more ado to make them believe it, than to overcome their enemies, and procure it for them; and when they had it, only as a small intimation and earnest of a more incomparably glorious rest through Christ, they stick there ; and will yet believe no more than they do possess, but sit down and say, as the glutton at the feast, Sure there is no other heaven but this : or if they do expect more by the Messiah, it is only the increase of their earthly felicity. The apostle bestows most of this epistle against this distemper; and clearly and largely proves unto them, that it is the end of all ceremonies and shadows to direct them to Jesus Christ, the Substance; and that the rest of sabbaths and Canaan should teach them to look for a further rest, which indeed is their happiness. My text is his conclusion, after divers arguments to that end; a conclusion so useful to a believer, as containing the ground of all his comforts, the end of all his duty and sufferings, the life and sum of all gospel promises and Christian privileges, that you may easily be satisfied why I have made it the subject of my present discourse. What more welcome

to men, under personal afflictions, tiring duty, successions of sufferings, than rpst ? What more welcome news, to men under public calamities,'^ unpleasing employments, plundering losses, sad tidings, &c. which is the common case, than this of rest? Hearers,

1 pray God your attentions, intention of spirit, entertainment of it, be but half answerable to the verity, necessity, and excellency of this subject, and then you will have cause to bless God, while you live, tliat ever you heard it, as I have, that ever I studied it.

Sect. 2. The text is, as you may see, the apostle's assertion in, an entire proposition, Avith the concluding illative : the subject is* rest; the predicate, it yet remains to the people of God. It is requisite we say somewhat briefly, 1. For explication of the terms ; 2. Of the subject of them.

" Therefore, i. e. it clearly follows, from the former argument, "there remains:" 1. In order of speaking, as the consequence follows the antecedent, or the conclusion the premises ; so there remains a rest, or it remains that there is another rest. 2. But rather, in order of being, as the bargain remains after the earnest, the performance after the promise, the antitype after the type, and the ultimate end after all the means; so there remains a rest " to the people of God." God hath a twofold people within the church : one his only, by a common vocation (Heb. x. 30; Micah ii. 8;

2 Pet. ii. 20; John ii. 23; Heb. vi. 4—6; x. 29, 30), by an external acceptation of Christ, and covenanting, sanctified by the blood of the covenant so far as to be separated from the open enemies of Christ, and all without the church, therefore not to be accounted common and unclean in the sense as Jews and pagans are; but holy, and saints, in a larger sense, as the nation of the Jews, and all proselyted Gentiles, were holy before Christ's coming. These are called branches in Christ not bearing fruit, and shall be cut off, &c. (John XV. 2, 6); for they are in the church, and in him, by the foresaid profession and external covenant, but no further. There are, in his kingdom, things that offend, and men that work iniquity, which the angels, at the last day, shall gather out and cast into the lake of fire (Matt. xiii. 41); there are ilshes, good and bad, in his net; and tares, with wheat, in his field. The son of perdition is one of those given to Christ by the Father, though not as the rest (John xvii. 12) : these be not the people of God my text speaks of. 2. But God hath a peculiar people that are his by special vocation, cordial acceptation of Christ, internal, sincere covenanting, sanctified by the blood of the covenant and Spirit of grace, so far as not only to be separated from open infidels, but from all unregenerate Christians, being branches in Christ bearing fruit; and for these remains the rest in my text.

1. To be God's people by a forced subjection, i. e. under his dominion, is common to all persons, even open enemies; yea, devils : this yields not comfort.

2. To be his by a verbal covenant and profession, and external call, is common to all in, and of, the visible church, even traitors and secret enemies, of which see my " Disputations of Right to

Sacraments;" yet hath this many privileges, as the external seals, means of grace, common mercies, but no interest in this rest.

3. But to be his by election, union with Christ, and special interest, as before mentioned, is the peculiar property of those that shall have this rest.

Sect. 3. Quest. But is it to a determinate number of persons, by name, or only to a people thus and thus qualified, viz. persevering believers, without determining by name who they are (

A))sw. I purpose, in this discourse, to omit controversies ; only, in a word, thus : 1. It is promised only to persevering believers, and not to any particular persons by name. 2. It is purposed, with all the conditions of it, and means to it, to a determinate number, called the elect, and known by name, which evidently follows these plain propositions:

1. There are few will deny that God foreknows,from eternity, who these are, and shall be, numerically, personally, by name.

2. To purpose it only to such, and to know that only these will be such, is, in effect, to purpose it only to these.

3. Especially, if we know how little knowledge and purpose, in God, do differ.

4. However, we must not make his knowledge active, and his purpose idle, much less to contradict each other, as it must be, if, from eternity, he purposed salvation alike to all, and yet from eternity knew that only such and such should receive it.

5. To purpose all persevering believers to salvation, and not to purpose faith and perseverance absolutely to any particular persons, is to purpose salvation absolutely to none at all; yet I know much more is necessary to be said to make this plain, which I purpose not (at least here) to meddle with.

Sect. 4. Quest. To whom ? Is it to the people of God, upon certainty, or only upon possibility ?

Atisw. If only possible, it cannot thus be called theirs.

1. While they are only elect, not called, it is certain to them (we speak of a certainty of the object) by Divine purpose ; for they are ordained to eternal life first, and therefore believe ; and not first believe, and therefore elected.

2. When they are called according to his purpose, then it is certain to them by a certainty of promise also, as sure as if they were named in that promise; for the promise is, to believers, which they may, though but imperfectly, know themselves to be ; and though it be yet upon condition of overcoming, and abiding in Christ, and enduring to the end, yet that condition being absolutely promised, it still remaineth absolutely certain upon promise : and, indeed, if glory be ours only upon a condition, which condition depends chiefly on our own wills, it were cold comfort to those that know what man's will is, and how certainly we should play the prodigals with this, as we did with our first stock. But I have hitherto understood, that in the behalf of the elect, Christ is resolved, and hath undertaken, for the working and finishing of their faith, and the full effecting his people's salvation; and not only

B 2

given us a (feigned) sufficient grace, not effectual, leaving it to our wills to make it effectual, as some think ; so that, though still the promise of justification and salvation he conditional, yet God, having manifested his purpose of enabling us to fulfil those conditions, he doth thereby show us a certainty of our salvation, both in his promise and his purpose. Though God's eternal purpose gives us no right to the benefit whatsoever, (some lately say to the contrary,) it being the proper work of God's law or covenant, to confer right or due ; yet the event or futurition of it is made certain by God's unchangeable decree, his eternal willing it being the first and infallible cause, that, in time, it is accomplished or produced.

CHAPTER II.

THIS REST DEFINED.

Sect. 1. Now let us see, 1. What this rest is. 2. What these people of God, and why so called. 3. The truth of this, from other Scripture arguments. 4. Why this rest must yet remain. 5. Why only to the people of God. 6. What use to make of it.

1. And though the sense of the text includes in the word rest,* all that ease and safety, which a soul, wearied with the burden of sin and suffering, and pursued by law, wrath, and conscience, hath with Christ in this life, the rest of grace; yet, because it chiefly intends the rest of eternal glory, as the end and main part, I shall therefore confine my discourse to this last.

Definition. Rest is the end and perfection of motion. The saint's rest, here in question, is the most happy estate of a Christian, having obtained the end of his course : or, it is the perfect, endless fruition of God, by the perfected saints, according to the measure of their capacity, to which their souls arrive at death ; and both soul and body most fully, after the resurrection and final judgment.

Sect. 2. I. I call it the estate of a Christian, though perfection consists in action, as the philosopher thinks, to note both the active and passive fruition, wherein a Christian's blessedness lies, and the established continuance of both. Our title will be perfect, and perfectly cleared; ourselves, and so our capacity, perfected; our possession and security for its perpetuity perfect; our reception from God perfect; our motion or action in and upon him perfect; and, therefore, our fruition of him, and consequently our happiness, will then be perfect. And this is the estate which we now briefly

* I doubt not but the Holy Ghost, by this sabbatism, or rest, intends the whole estate of reconciliation, peace, and happiness purchased by Christ: but because that fulness and perfection in glory is the chicfest part, in comparison whereof the beginning in this life is -very small, I may very well extend the text to that which itself intends as the principal part; but I exclude not the beginnings here, though I purpose not the handling of them.

mention, and shall afterwards more fully describe and open to you, and which we hope, by Jesus Christ, very shortly to enter upon, and for ever to possess.

Sect. 3. II. I call it the most happy estate, to difference it, not only from all seeming happiness, which is to be found in the enjoyment of creatures, but also from all those beginnings, foretastes, earnests, first-fruits, and imperfect degrees, which we have here in this life, while we are but in the way. It is the chief good which the world hath so much disputed, yet mistaken or neglected, without which the greatest confluence of all other good leaves a man miserable ; and with the enjoyment of which, all misery is inconsistent. The beginnings, in our present state of grace, as they are a real part of this, may also be called a state of happiness; but, if considered disjunctly by themselves, they deserve not that title, except in a comparative sense, as a Christian is compared to men out of Christ.

Sect. 4. III. I call it the estate of a Christian, where I m.eau only the sincere, regenerate, sanctified Christian, whose soul, having discovered that excellency in God through Christ, which is not in the world to be found, thereupon closeth with him, and is cordially set upon him. I do not mean every one that, being born where Christianity is the religion of the country, takes it up as other fashions, and is become a Christian he scarce knows how, or why ; nor mean I those that profess Christ in words, but in works deny him. I shall describe this Christian to you more plainly afterwards. It is an estate to which many pretend, and that with much confidence ; and because they know it is only the Christian's, therefore they all call themselves Christians. But multitudes will at last know, to their eternal sorrow, that this is only the inheritance of the saints, and only those Christians shall possess it, who are not of the w orld : and, therefore, the world hates them who have forsaken all for Christ, and having taken up the cross, do follow him, with patient waiting, till they inherit the promised glory. (Col. i. 12; Acts xxvi. 18 ; xx. 32 ; John xv. 19; Matt. x. 31 ; Luke xiv. 27; Heb. X. 38; vi. 15).

Sect. 5. IV. I add, that this happiness consists in obtaining the end, where I mean the ultimate and principal end, not any end, secundum quid, so called subordinate, or less principal. Not the end of conclusion, in regard of time; for so every man hath his end; but the end of intention, which sets the soul to work, and is its prime motive in all its actions. That the chief happiness is in the enjoyment of this end, I shall fully show through the whole discourse, and, therefore, here omit. Everlasting w'oe to that man who makes that his end here, (to the death,) which, if he could attain, would not make him happy. Oh how much doth our everlasting state depend on ourright judgment and estimation of our end!

Sect. 6. But it is great doubt with many, whe- ^vi^^thcr to make ther the obtainment of this glory may be our end; salvation our end, nay, concluded, that it is mercenary ; yea, that to \l legai p*"' asT[L make salvation the end of duty, is to be a legalist, very feeiins of life.

at all, were the sureei and act under a covenant of works, whose tenor CleCcmSary Jo i^, Do this and live. And many that think it may the whole tenor of be our end, yet think it may not be our ultimate Scripture. g^^j^ f^^. ^^^^^ should be only the glory of God. I

shall answer these particularly and briefly.

1. It is properly called mercenary, when we expect it as wages for work done ;* and so we may not make it our end; otherwise it is only such a mercenariness as Christ commandeth. For, consider what this end is ; it is the fruition of God in Christ: and, if seeking Christ be mercenary, I desire to be so mercenary.

2. It is not a note of a legalist neither : it hath been the ground of a multitude of late mistakes in divinity, to think that " Do this and live," is only the language of the covenant of works. It is true, in some sense it is; but in other, not. The law of works only saith, " Do this," that is, perfectly fulfil the whole law, " and live," that is, for so doing : but the law of grace saith, " Do this and live" too ; that is, believe in Christ, seek him, obey him sincerely, as thy Lord and King; forsake all, suffer all things, and overcome ; and by so doing, or in so doing, as the conditions which the gospel propounds for salvation, you shall live. If you set up the abrogated duties of the law again, you are a legalist ; if you set up the duties of the gospel in Christ's stead, in whole or in part, you err still. Christ hath his place and work ; duty hath its place and work too; set it but in its own place, and expect fi'om it but its own part, and you go right: yea, more, how unsavoury soever the phrase may seem, you may, so far as this comes to, trust to your duty and works ; that is, for their own part; and many miscarry in expecting no more from them, as to pray, and to expect nothing the more, that is, from Christ, in a way of duty; for if duty have no share, why may we not trust Christ, as well in a way of disobedience as duty { In a word, you must both use and trust duty in subordination to Christ, but neither use them nor trust them in co-ordination with him. So that this derogates nothing from Christ : for he hath done and will do all his work perfectly, and enableth his people to do theirs; yet he is not properly said to do it himself ;t he believes not, repents not, &c. but worketh these in them; that is, enableth and exciteth them to do it. No man must look for more from duty than God hath laid upon it; and so much we may and must.

Sect. 7. II. If I should quote all the Scriptures that plainly prove this, I should transcribe a great part of the Bible : I will bring none out of the Old Testament; for I know not whether their authority will here be acknowledged; but I desire the contrary-minded, whose consciences are tender of abusing Scripture, and wresting it from the plain sense, to study what tolerable interpretation can be given of these following places, which will not prove that life and salvation may be, yea, must be the end of duty.

* Viz. by -way of merit, strictly so called.

t Christ believed for us legally, or so far as the law required faith, but not as it is the condition or command of the new covenant.

" Ye vill not come to me, that ye might have life," John v. 39, 40. " The kingdom of heaven sufForeth violence, and the violent take it by force," JMatt. xi. 12. " Strive to enter in at the strait ^te," Matt. vii. 13; Luke xiii, 24. " Work out your salvation with fear and trembling," Phil. ii. 12. " To them who, by patient continuance in well-doing, seek for gloi7, and honour, and immortality, eternal life. Glory, honour, and peace, to every man that worketh good," &c. Rom. ii. 7, 10. " So run that ye may obtain," 1 Cor. ix. 24. " A man is not crowned, except he strive lawfully," 2 Tim. ii. 5. " If we suffer with him, we shall reign with him," 2 Tim. ii. 12. " Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life," 1 Tim. vi. 12. " That they do good works, laying up a good foundation against the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life," 1 Tim. vi. 18, 19. " If by any means I might attain to the resurrection of the dead; I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling," &c. Phil. iii. 14. " Blessed aue they that do his connnandments, that they-may have right to the tree of life, and enter in by the gates into the city," Rev. xxii. 14. " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit, &c. For I was hungry, and ye," &c. Matt. XXV. " Blessed are the pure in heart, &c. They that hunger and thirst, &c. Be glad and rejoice, for great is your reward in heaven," Matt. v. " Blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it," Luke xi. 28. Yea, the escaping of hell is a right end of duty to a believer. " Let us fear, lest a promise being left us of entering into his rest, any of you should seem to come short of it," Heb. iv. 1. " Fear him that is able to destroy both soul and body in hell; yea, (whatsoever others say,) I say unto you, Fear him," Luke xii. 5. " I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway," 1 Cor. ix. 27. Multitudes of Scriptures and Scripture arguments might be brought, but these may suffice to any that believe Scripture.*

Sect. 8. III. For those that think this rest may be our end, but not our ultimate end, that must be God's glory only, I will not gainsay them. Only let them consider, what God hath joined, jnan must not separate. The glorifying himself, and the saving of his people, as I judge, are not two decrees with God, but one decree, to glorify his mercy in their salvation ; though w'e may say, that one is the end of the other; so I think they should be with us together intended. We should aim at the glory of God, not alone considered, without our salvation, but in our salvation. Therefore,

1 know no warrant for putting such a question to ourselves, as some

* I speak the more of this, because I find that many moderate men, -nlio think they have found the mean between the Autinomian and the legalist, yet do foully err in this point. As IMr. F. in the " Marrow of Modern Divinity," a book applauded by so many eminent divines, in their commendatory epistles, before it: and because the doctrine, That -we must act from life, but not for life ; or in thankfulness to him that hath saved us, but not for the obtaining of salvation ; is of such dangerous consequence, that I would advise all men to take heed of it, that regard their salvation, 1 Cor. xv. ult. ;

2 Cor. iv. 17 ; v. 10, 11 ; 2 Pet. i. 10, 11. I here undertake to prove that this fore-mentioned doctrine, reduced to practice, will certainly be the damnation of the practiser: but I hope many Antinomlaus do not practise their own doctrine.

do, Whether we could be content to be damned, so God were glorified ? Christ hath put no such question to us, nor bid us put such to ourselves. Christ had rather that men would inquire after their true willingness to be saved, than their willingness to be damned. Sure I am, Christ himself is offered to faith in terms for the most part respecting the welfare of the sinner, more than his own ab-.stracted glory. He would be received as a Saviour, Mediator, Redeemer, Reconciler, Intercessor, &c. And all the precepts of Scripture, being backed with so many promises and threatenings, every one intended of God as a motive to us, do imply as much. If any think they should be distinguished as two several ends, and God's glory preferred, so they separate them not asunder, I contend not. I3ut I had rather make that high pitch, which Gibieuf and many others insist on, to be the mark at which we should all aim, than the mark by which every weak Christian should try himself.

Sect. 9. IV. In the definition, I call a Christian's happiness, the end of his course, thereby meaning, as Paul, 2 Tim. iv. 7, the whole scope of his life. For as salvation may, and must, be our end, so not only the end of our faith, though that principally^ but of all our actions ; for as whatsoever we do, must be done to the glory of God, whether eating, drinking, &c. so must they all be done to our salvation. That we may believe for salvation, some will grant, who yet deny that we may do or obey for it.* I would it were well understood, for the clearing of many controversies, what the Scripture usually means by faith. Doubtless, the gospel takes it not so strictly as philosophers do ; but, in a larger sense, for our accepting Christ for our King and Saviour. To believe in his name, and to receive him, are all one (John i. 12) ; but we must receive him as King, as well as Saviour : therefore, believing doth not produce heart-subjection as a fruit, but contains it as an essential part; except we say, that faith receives Christ as a Saviour first, and so justifies before it take him for King, as some think; which is a maimed, unsound, and no Scripture faith.f I doubt not but the soul more sensibly looks at salvation from Christ, than government by him, in the first work : yet, whatever precedaneous act there may be, it never conceives of Christ, and receives him to justification, nor knows him with the knowledge which is eternal life, till it conceive of him, and know him, and receive him for Lord and King. Therefore there is not such a wide difference between faith and gospel obedience, or works, as some judge.J Obedience to the gospel is put for faith, and disobedience put for unbelief, ofttimes in the New Testament. But of this I have spoken more fully elsewhere.

V. Lastly : I make happiness to consist in this end obtained; for it is not the mere promise of it that immediately makes per-

* The scriptures before cited do prove both.

f See more of this hereafter.

i In this point of works concurring in justification, I am wholly of Davenant's judgment, " De Justifia Actuali." I will not speak so harshly for works, nor in describing faith, as Mr. Mead's sermon doth : yet I believe he meant orthodoxly. See Diodate's notes ou James ii. and abundance more cited in my " Confession."

fectly happy, nor Christ's mere purchase, nor our mere seeking, but the apprehending and obtaining, which sets the crown on the saint's head; when we can say of our work, as Christ of the price paid, " It is finished ;" and as Paul, " I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course : henceforth is laid up for me a crown of salvation," 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. Oh that we did all heartily and strongly believe, that we shall never be truly happy till then ! Then should wc not so dote upon a seeming happiness here.

CHAPTER III.

WHAT THIS REST PRESUPPOSETH.

Sect. I. For the clearer understanding yet of the nature of this rest, you must know :

1. There are some things necessarily presupposed to it.

2. Some things really contained in it.

1. All these things are presupposed to this rest.

1. A person in motion, seeking rest. This is man here in the way; angels and glorified spirits have it already; and the devils and damned are past hope.

Sect. II. 2. An end toward which he moveth for rest: which end must be sufficient for his rest; else, when it is obtained, it deceiv-eth him. This can be only God, the chief good. He that taketh any thing else for his happiness, is out of the way the first step. The principal damning sin, is to make any thing besides God our end or rest. And the first true saving act, is to choose God only for our end and. happiness.

Sect. III. 3. A distance is presupposed from this end; else there can be no motion towards it. This sad distance is the woeful case of all mankind since the fall : it was our God that we principally lost, and were shut out of his gracious presence.* Though some talk of losing only a temporal, earthly felicity; sure I am, it was God that we fell from, and him we lost, and since are said to be without him in the world ; and there would have been no death, but for sin; and to enjoy God without death, is neither an earthly nor temporal enjoyment: nay, in all men at age, here is supposed, not only a distance from God, but also a contrary motion : for sin hath not overthrown our being, nor taken away our motion; but our well-being, and the rectitude of our motion, ^^'hen Christ comes with regenerating, saving grace, he finds no man sitting still, but all posting to eternal ruin, and making haste towards hell; till by conviction, he first bring them to a stand ; and by conversion, turn first their hearts, and then their lives, sincerely to himself. Even those that are sanctified and justified from the womb, are yet

* The only cause of this evil, is aversion from God. As a coachman, if he let the horses run headlong over hanks, or which way they -will, &c. Athanas. lib. i. cont. Gent.

first the children of Adam, and so of wrath ; at least, in order of nature, if not in time.

Sect, IV. 4. Here is presupposed knowledge of the true ultimate end, and its excellency, and a serious intending it. For so the motion of the rational creature proceedeth : an unknown end is no end; it is a contradiction. We cannot make that our end, which we know not ; nor that our chief end, which we know not, or judge not, to be the chief good. An unknown good moves not to desire or endeavour: therefore where it is not truly known that God is this end, and containeth all good in him ; there is no obtaining rest in an ordinary, known way, whatsoever may be in ways that by God are kept secret.^'

Sect. V. 5. Here is presupposed, not only a distance from this rest, but also the true knowledge of this distance. If a man have lost his way, and know it not, he seeks not to return; if he lose his gold, and know it not, he seeks it not: therefore, they that never knew they were without God, never j^et enjoyed him ; and they that never knew they were naturally and actually in the way to hell, did never yet know the way to heaven.f Nay, there will not only be a knowledge of this distance, and lost estate, but also affections answerable. Can a man be brought to find himself hard by the brink of hell, and not tremble ? or, to find he hath lost his God and his soul, and not cry out, I am undone ? or can such a stupid soul be so recovered ! This is the sad case of many thousands, and the reason why so few obtain this rest: they will not be convinced, or made sensible, that they are, in point of title, distant from it; and in point of practice, contrary to it. They have lost their God, their souls, their rest, and do not know it, nor will believe him that tells them so. Who ever travelleth towards a place which he thought he was at already, or sought for that which he knew not he had lost ? " The whole need not the physician, but they that are sick," Matt. ix. 12.

Sect. VI. 6. Here is also presupposed, a superior, moving cause, and an influence therefrom, else should we all stand still, and not move a step forward towards our rest; any more than the inferior wheels in the watch would stir, if you take away the spring, or the first mover. This 2rri)?ium movens is God. "What hand God hath in evil actions, or whether he aftbrd the like influence to their production, I will not here trouble this discourse and the reader to dispute. The case is clear in good actions. If God move us not, we cannot move : therefore, it is a most necessary part of our Christian wisdom, to keep our subordination to God, and dependence on him ; to be still in the path where he walks, and in tliat way where his Spirit doth most usually move. Take heed of being estranged or separated from God, or of slacking your daily expectations of renewed help, or of growing insensible of the necessity of the con-

* I speak all this of men of age, converted by the word, not of those sanctified in infancy.

t I mean those that were converted at years of discretion, and received not holiness insensibly in their infancy, as I doubt not but many thousands do.

tinual influence and assistance of the Spirit. When you once begin to trust your stock of habitual grace, and to depend on your own understanding or resohition for duty and holy walking, you are then in a dangerous, declining state. In every duty remember Christ's words, " Without me ye can do nothing," John xv. 5, and, " Not that we are sufficient of ourselves, to do any thing as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God," 2 Cor. iii. 5.

Sect. VII. 7. Here is presupposed an internal principle of life in the person. God moves not man like a stone, but by enduing him first with life, not to enable him to move without God, but thereby to qualify him to move himself, in subordination to God the first Mover. What the nature of this spiritual life is, is a question exceeding difficult.* Whether, as some think, (but, as I judge, erroneously,) it be Christ himself in person or essence, or the Holy Ghost personally; or as some will distinguish, with what sense I know^ not, it is the person of the Holy Ghost, but not personally. Whether it be an accident or quality; or whether it be a spiritual substance, as the soul itself; whether it be only an act, or a disposition, or a habit, as it is generally taken; whether a habit infused, or acquired by frequent acts, to which the soul hath been morally persuaded; or whether it be somewhat distinct from a habit ; i. e. a power ; viz. jwtentia j^t'o.vima intelligendl, credeudi, rolendi, 8fc. in spirituaUbus; which some think the most probable, A multitude of such difficulties occur, which will be difficulties while the doctrine of spirits and spirituals is so dark to us, and that will be while the dust of mortality and corruption is in our eyes. This is my comfort, that death will shortly blow out this dust, and then I shall be resolved of these and many more. In the mean time, I am a sceptic, and know little in this whole doctrine of spirits and spiritual workings, further than Scripture clearly revealeth, and think we might clo well to keep closer to its language.

Sect. VIII. 8. Here is presupposed before rest, an actual motion : rest is the end of motion : no motion, no rest. Christianity is not a sedentary profession and employment, nor doth it consist in mere negatives. It is not for feeding, or clothing, &c. that Christ condemns. Not doing good, is not the least evil: sitting still will lose you heaven, as well as if you run from it. I know, when we have done all we are unprofitable servants ; and he cannot be a Christian, that relies upon the supposed merit of his works, in proper sense; but yet he that hides his talent, shall receive the wages of a slothful servant.

Sect. IX. 9. Here is presupposed, also, as motion, so such

* I speak not here de gratia operante, but de gratia operata; not of the cause, but of the effect ; for (so tar as these obscure things are known to us, on the ordinary grounds) •we must say, that it is the very essence of God which worketh grace on the soul ; for it is his telle effcctivum, his will. God needs do no more to produce the creature, or any quality in it, but only to will it, as Dr. Twisse saith, and Bradwardine more fully and peremptorily : and God's will is his essence. I speak on supposition of God's immediate operation ; for if God work grace by angels, or any second causes, then it cannot be thus said of the act of the second cause, but of God's act it is still true. So Clem. Alex. As God's will is his work, and that is called the world ; so his will is man's salvation, and that is called the church. CI. Al. Ptedagog. 1. i. c. 6.

motion as is rightly ordered and directed toward the end; not all motion, labour, seeking, that brings to rest. Every way leads not to this end; but he whose goodness hath appointed the end, hath in his wisdom, and by his sovereign authority, appointed the way. Our own invented ways may seem to us more wise, comely, equal, pleasant; but that is the best key that will open the lock, which none but that of God's appointing will do. Oh the pains that sinners take, and worldlings take, but not for this rest! Oh the pains and cost that many an ignorant and superstitious soul is at for this rest, but all in vain ! How many have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge ! who, being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God; nor known " that Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth," Rom. x. 2—4. Christ is the door; the only way to this rest. Some will allow nothing else to be called the way, lest it derogate from Christ. The truth is, Christ is the only way to the Father; yet faith is the way to Christ; and gospel obedience, or faith and works, the way for those to walk in, that are in Christ. There be, as before, many ways requisite in subordination to Christy but none in co-ordination with him; so then it is only God's way that will lead to this end and rest.

Sect. X. 10. There is supposed, also, as motion rightly ordered, so strong and constant motion, which may reach the end. If there be not strength put to the bow, the arrow will not reach the mark: the lazy world, that think all too much, will find this to their cost one day. They that think less ado might have served, do but reproach Christ for making us so much to do : they that have been most holy, watchful, painful, to get faith and assurance, do find, when they come to die, all little enough. We see, daily, the best Christians, when dying, repent their negligence : I never knew any, then, repent his holiness and diligence. It would grieve a man's soul to see a multitude of mistaken sinners lay out their wit, and care, and pains, for a thing of nought, and think to have eternal salvation with a wish. If the way to heaven be not far harder than the world imagines, then Christ and his apostles knew not the way, or else have deceived us; for they have told us, " that the kingdom of heaven suiFereth violence ; that the gate is strait, and the way narrow ; and we must strive, if we will enter; for many shall seek to enter, and not be able" (Matt. xi. 12; vii. 13; Luke xiii. 24, 25; 1 Pet. iv. 18), which implies the faintness of their seeking, and that they put not strength to the work; and, "that the righteous themselves are scarcely saved." If ever souls obtain salvation in the world's common, careless, easy way, then I will say there is a nearer way found out than ever God, in Scripture, hath revealed to the sons of men. But when they have obtained life and rest in this way, let them boast of it; till then, let them give us leave, who would fain go upon sure grounds, in point of eternal salvation, to believe that God knows the way better than they, and that his word is a true and infallible discovery thereof.

I have seen this doctrine also thrown by with contempt Ity others, who say, What ! do you set us a-working for heaven .' Doth our duty do any thing .' Ilath not Christ done all { Is not this to make him a half Saviour, and to preach law ?

A/tsir. It is to preach the law of Christ: his subjects are not lawless. It is to preach duty to Christ: none.a more exact re-quirer of duty, or hater of sin, than Christ. Christ hath done and will do all his work, and therefore is a perfect Saviour; but yet leaves for us a work too. He hath paid all the price, and left us none to pay; yet he never intended his purchase should put us into absolute, immediate, personal title to glory, in point of law, much less into immediate possession. What title, improperly so called, we may have from his own and his Father's secret counsel, is nothing to the question : he hath purchased the crown to bestow only on condition of believing, denying all for him, suffering with him, persevering, and overcoming. He hath purchased justification, to bestow only on condition of our believing ; yea, repenting and believing. That the first grace hath any such condition, I will not affirm ; but following mercies have; though it is Christ that enableth also to perform the condition. It is not a Saviour offered, but received also, that must save : it is not the blood of Christ shed only, but applied also, that must fully deliver ; nor is it applied to the justification or salvation of a sleepy soul; nor doth Christ carry us to heaven in a chair of security. Where he will pardon, he will make you pray, " Forgive us our trespasses;" and where he will give righteousness, he will give hungering and thirsting. It is not through any imperfection in Christ, that the righteous are scarcely saved; no, nor that the wicked perish, as they shall be convinced one day. In the same sense as the prayer of the faithful, if fervent, availeth for outward mercies, in the same sense it prevaileth for salvation also; for Christ hath purchased both. And as baptism is said to save us, so other duties too. Our righteousness, which the law of works requireth, and by which it is satisfied, is wholly in Christ, and not one grain in ourselves; nor must we dare to think of patching up a legal righteousness of Christ's and our own together : that is, that our doings can be the least part of satisfaction for our sins, or proper merit. But yet ourselves must personally fulfil the conditions of the new covenant, and so have a personal, evangelical righteousness, or never be saved by Christ's righteousness; therefore, say not it is not duty, but Christ; for it is Christ in a way of duty. As duty cannot do it without Christ, so Christ will not do it without duty: but of this enough before.

And as the motion must be strong, so must it be constant; or it will fall short of rest. To begin in the Spirit, and end in the flesh, will not bring to the end of the saints. The certainty of the saints' perseverance doth not make admonition to constancy un-useful: men, as seemingly holy as the best of us, have fallen off. He that knew it impossible, in the foundation, to deceive the elect, yet saw it necessary to warn us, that he only that endureth to the

end shall be saved (Matt. xxiv. 13; Mark xiii. 13, 22; Acts xiii. 43; xiv. 22 ; Rom. xi. 22 ; Col. i. 23 ; Heb. viii. 9 ; James i. 25). Head but the promises, (Rev. ii. and iii.) " To him that over-cometh." Christ's own disciples must be commanded to continue in his love, and that by keeping his commandments; and to abide in him, and his .word in them, and he in them. It will seem strange to some, that Christ should command us, that " he abide in us." See John xv. 4—10; viii. 31 ; 1 John i. 22 ; iv. 28.

Sect. XI. 11. There is presupposed, also, to the obtaining of this rest, a strong desire after it. The soul's motion is not that which we call violent or constrained, (none can force it,) but free. As every thing inclines to its proper centre, so the rational creature is carried on in all its motion, with desires after its end. This end is the first thing intended, and chiefest desired, though last obtained. Observe it, and believe it, whoever thou art; there was never a soul that made Christ and glory the principal end, nor that obtained rest with God, whose desire was not set upon him, and that above all things else in the world whatsoever. Christ brings the heart to heaven first, and then the person. His own mouth spoke it, " Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also," Matt. vi. 21. A sad conclusion to thousands of professed Christians. He that had truly rather have the enjoyment of God in Christ, than any thing in the world, shall have it; and he that had rather have any thing else, shall not have this, except God change him. It is true, the remainder of our old nature will much weaken and interrupt these desires, but never overcome them. The passionate motion of them is oft strongest towards inferior, sensible things ; but the serious, deliberate will or choice, which is the rational desire, is most for God.

Sect. XII. 12. Lastly: here is presupposed painfulness and weariness in our motion. This ariseth not from any evil in the work or way, for Christ's yoke is easy, his burden light, and his commands not grievous (Prov. iv. 6; Matt. xi. 30; 1 John v. 3) : but, 1. From the opposition we meet with. 2. The contrary principles still remaining in our nature, which will make us cry out, " O wretched men !" Rom. vii. 24. 3. From the weakness of our graces, and so of our motion. Great labour, where there is a suitable strength, is a pleasure ; but to the weak, how painful! With what panting and weariness doth a feeble man ascend that hill which the sound man runs up with ease ! We are all, even the best, but feeble. An easy, dull profession of religion, that never encountereth with these difficulties and pains, is a sad sign of an unsound heart. Christ, indeed, hath freed us from the impossibilities of the covenant of works, and from the burden and yoke of legal ceremonies, but not from the difficulties and pains of gospel duties. 4. Our continued distance from the end, will raise some grief also; for desire and hope, implying the absence of the thing desired and hoped for, do ever imply also some grief for that absence ; which all vanish when we come to possession. All these twelve things are implied in a Christian's motion, and so presup-

posed to this rost. And he only that hath the prerequisite qualifications, shall have the crown. Here, therefore, should ('hristians lay out their utmost care and industry. Sec to your part, and Glod will certainly see to his part. Look you to your hearts and duties, in which God is ready with assisting grace, and he will see that you lose not the reward. Oh how most Christians wrong God and themselves, with heing more solicitous about God's part of the work than their own, as if God's faithfulness were more to be suspected than their unfaithful, treacherous hearts ! The rest is glorious, and God is faithful: Christ's death is sufficient, and the promise is universal, free, and true. You need not fear missing of heaven through the deficiency or fault of any of these. But yet for all these, the falseness of your own hearts, if you look not to them, may undo you. If you doubt of this, believe the Holy Ghost. " Having a promise left us of entering into his rest, let us fear lest any of you should seem to come short of it," Heb. iv. 1. The promise is true, but conditional. Never fear whether God will break promise, but fear lest you should not truly perform the condition ; for nothing else can bereave you of the benefit.

CHAPTER IV.

AVHAT THIS REST CONTAINETH.

Sect. I. But all this is only the outward court, or at least not the holiest of all. Now we have ascended the steps, may we look within the veil ? May we show what this rest containeth, as well as what it presupposeth ? But, alas ! how little know I of that whereof I am about to speak ! Shall I speak before I know ? But if I stay till I clearly know, I shall not come again to speak. That glimpse which Paul saw, containeth that which could not, or must not, be uttered, or both (2 Cor. xii. 4). And if Paul had had a tongue to have uttered it, it would have done no good, except his hearers had ears to hear it. If Paul had spoke the things of heaven in the language of heaven, and none understood that language, what the better .'' Therefore, I will speak, while I may, that little, very little, which I do know of it, rather than be wholly silent. The Lord reveal it to me, that I may reveal it to you ; and the Lord open some light, and show both you and me his inheritance : not, as to Balaam only, whose eyes the vision of God opened, to see the goodliness of Jacob's tents and Israel's tabernacles, where he had no portion, but from whence must come his own destruction (Numb. xxiv. 15 ; xvi. 5) ; nor as to Moses, who had only a discovery, instead of possession, and saw the land which he never entered (Deut. xxxiv. 1—4); but as the pearl was revealed to the merchant in the gospel, who rested not till he had sold all he had, and bought it (Matt. xiii. 44—4G); and as heaven was opened to

blessed Stephen, which he was shortly to enter, and the glory showed him, which should be his own possession (Acts vii. 55, 56).

1. Cessation from all ^''ect. II. 1. There is contahied in this rest, 1. A that action which cessation from motion or action; not of all action, hath the nature of ^ml of that which hath the nature of a means, and

means. 1. Know- . ,• , i n ^ -\ txti i

ledge. 2. Faith implies the absence oi the end. When we have (how far). 3 Pray- obtained the haven, we have done sailing. When

cr. 4. So fasting, , , i i i • • • ■ -^^^ ^ ^ ■,

weeping, watching, the workman hath his wages, it is implied he hath preaching, and sa- done his woi'k. When we are at our journey's end, we have done with the way. All motion ends at the centre, and all means cease when we have the end. Therefore, prophesying ceaseth, tongues fail, and knowledge shall be done away ; that is, so far as it had the nature of a means, and was imperfect.* And so faith may be said to cease : not all faith, for how shall we know all things past, which we saw not but by believing ? How shall we knov/ the last judgment, the resurrection of the body beforehand, but by believing ? How shall we know the life everlasting, the eternity of the joys we possess, but by believing ? But all that faith, which, as a means, referred to the chief end, shall cease. There shall be no more prayer, because no more necessity, but the full enjoyment of what we prayed for. Whether the soul pray for the body's resurrection, for the last judgment, &c. or whether soul and body pray for the eternal continuance of their joys, is to me unknown; otherwise, we shall not need to pray for what we have, and we shall have all that is desirable. Neither shall we need to fast, and weep, and watch any more, being out of the reach of sin and temptations. Nor will there be use for instructions and exhortations : preaching is done, the ministry of man ceaseth, sacraments useless, the labourers called in because the harvest is gathered, the tares burned, and the work done, the unregenerate past hope, the saints past fear for ever: much less shall there be any need of labouring for inferior ends, as here we do, seeing they will all devolve themselves into the ocean of the ultimate end, and the lesser good be wholly swallowed up of the greatest.

2. Perfect freedom Scct. III. 2. This rcst containeth a perfect free-

fromevii. dom from all the evils that accompanied us through

our course, and which necessarily follow our absence from the chief good; besides our freedom from those eternal flames and restless miseries, which the neglecters of Christ and grace must remedi-lessly endure ; an inheritance which, both by birth and actual , g.^ rnerit, was due to us as well as to them. As God

will not know the wicked so as to own them; so neither will heaven know iniquity to receive it: for there entereth nothing that defileth, or is unclean; all that remains without (Rev.

* 1 Cor. xiii. 8. There are two excellent parts of our glory, which I have here omitted, and only put them among the adjuncts, which should not have been done. 1. That Ave shall be meml)ers of the heavenly Jerusalem ; and so glorify God in that blessed society. 2. That we shall see the face of our glorified Redeemer ; and his Person shall everlastingly be glorified in us. Were it again to do, I should largelier treat of both these, as principal parts of our glory and felicity.

xxi. 27). And, doubtless, there is not such a thing 2. Sorrow and suf-as grief and sorrow known there : nor is there such lering.

a thing as a pale face, a languid body, feeble joints, unable infancy decrepit age, peccant humours, dolorous sickness, griping fears, consuming care, nor whatsoever deserves the name of evil. Indeed, a gale of groans and sighs, a stream of tears, accompanied us to the very gates, and there bid us farewell for ever. We did weep and lament, when the world did rejoice ; but our sorrow is turned into joy, and our joy shall no man take from us (John xvi. 20—22). God were not the chief and perfect good, if the full fruition of him did not free us from all evil. But we shall have occasion to speak more fully of this in that which follows.

Sect. IV. 3. This rest containeth the highest .. „ 1 <■

T „ , . , , /• • 1 1 r •^- Personal perfec-

degree ot the samts personal perlection, both or tion in the highest soul and body. This necessarily qualifies them an§'"^o]'°'''"'"""^ to enjoy the glory, and thoroughly to partake the sweetness of it. Were the glory never so great, and themselves not made capable by a personal perfection suitable thereto, it would be little to them. There is necessary a right disposition of the recipient, to a right enjoying, and aftecting. This is one thing that makes the saints' joys there so great. Here, " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived, what God hath laid up for them that wait for him." For this eye of flesh is not capable of seeing it, nor this ear of hearing it, nor this heart of understanding it; but there the eye, and ear, and heart, are made capable ; else how do they enjoy it ? The more perfect the sight is, the more delightful the beautiful object. The more perfect the appetite, the sweeter the food. The more musical the ear, the more pleasant the melody. The more perfect the soul, the more joyous those joys, and the more glorious to us is that glory. Nor is it only our sinful imperfection that is here to be removed; nor only that which is the fruit of sin, but that which adhered to us in our pure naturals. Adam's dressing the garden, was neither sin nor the fruit of sin : nor is either to be less glorious than the stars or the sun in the firmament of our Father : yet is this the dignity to which the righteous shall be advanced (Gen. ii. 15; Dan. xii. 3). There is far more procured by Christ, than was lost by Adam. It is the misery of wicked men here, that all without them is mercy, excellent mercies, but within them a heart full of sin shuts the door against all, and makes them but the more miserable. When all is well within, then all is well indeed. The near good is the best, and the near evil and enemy the worst. Therefore will God, as a special part of his saints' happiness, perfect themselves, as well as their condition.

Sect. V. 4. This rest containeth, as the principal 4 chicilv the near-part, our nearest fruition of God, the chiefest good, est imition of God And here, reader, wonder not if I be at a loss, and '^^^^''^^sood. if my apprehensions receive but little of that which is in my expressions. If, to the beloved disciple that durst speak and inquire into Christ's secrets, and was filled with his revelations, and saw

c

the new Jerusalem in her glory, and had seen Christ, Moses, and Elias, in part of theirs ; if it did not appear to him what we shall be, but only in general, that when Christ appears we shall be like him (1 John iii. 2), no wonder if I know little. When I know so little of God, I cannot know much what it is to enjoy him. When it is so little I know of mine own soul, either its quiddity or quality, while it is here in this tabernacle, how little must I needs know of the infinite Majesty, or the state of this soul when it is advanced to that enjoyment ! If I know so little of spirits and spirituals, how little of the Father of spirits ! Nay, if I never saw that creature which contains not something unsearchable; nor the worm so small, which aifordeth not matter for questions to puzzle the greatest philosopher that ever I met with ; no wonder, then, if mine eyes fail, when I would look at God, my tongue fail me in speaking of him, and my heart in conceiving. As long as the Athenian superscription doth so too well suit with my sacrifices, " To the unknown God," and while I cannot contain the smallest rivulet, it is little I can contain of this immense ocean. We shall never be capable of clearly knowing, till we are capable of fully enjoying; nay, nor till we do actually enjoy him. What strange conceivings hath a man, born blind, of the sun, and its light; or a man born deaf, of the nature of sounds and music ! so do we yet want that sense by which God must be clearly known. I stand and look upon a heap of ants, and see them all, with one view, very busy to little purpose. They know not me, my being, nature, or thoughts, though I am their fellow creature ; how little, then, must we know of the great Creator, though he with one view continually beholds us all ! Yet acknowledge we have, though imperfect, and such as must be done away. A glimpse the saints behold, though but in a glass, which makes us capable of some poor, general, dark apprehensions of what we shall behold in glory. If I should tell a worldling but what the holiness and spiritual joys of the saints on earth are, he cannot know it; for grace cannot be clearly known without grace : how much less could he conceive it, should I tell him of this glory ! But to the saints I may be somewhat more encouraged to speak ; for grace giveth them a dark knowledge and slight taste of glory.

As all good whatsoever is comprised in God, and all in the creature are but drops of this ocean ; so all the glory of the blessed is comprised in their enjoyment of God : and if there be any mediate joys there, they are but drops from this. If men and angels should study to speak the blessedness of that estate in one word, what can they say beyond this. That it is the nearest enjoyment of God ? Say, They have God; and you say, They have all that is worth the having. Oh the full joys offered to a believer in that one sentence of Christ's ! I would not, for all the world, that one verse had been left out of the Bible : " Father, I will, that those whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me," John xvii. 24. Every word is full of life and joy. If the queen of Sheba had cause to say of

Solomon's glory, " Happy are thy men, happy are these thy servants, that stand continually before thee, and that hear thy wisdom," 1 Kings X. 8 ; then, sure, they that stand continually before God, and see his glory, and the glory of the Lamb, are somewhat more than happy : to them will Christ "give to rat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God; " and " to eat of the hidden manna," Rev. ii. 7, 17. Yea, " He will make them pillars in the temple of God, and they shall go no more out : and he will write upon them the name of his God, and the name of the city of his God, new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from God, and his own new name," Rev. iii. 12. Yea, more, if more may be, " He will grant them to sit with him in his throne," Rev. iii. 21. "These are they who come out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb ; therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple : and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them : and the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and lead them unto living fountains of water; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes," Rev. vii. 14, 15, 17. And may we not now boast with the spouse, " This is my beloved, O daughters of Jerusalem ! " And this is the glory of the saints ! O blind, deceived world, can you show us such a glory ? " This is the city of our God, where the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God." " The glory of God shall lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof," Rev. xxi. 3, 23. " And there shall be no more curse, but the throne of God and the Lamb shall be in it, and his servants shall serve him, and they shall see his face, and his name shall be in their foreheads. These sayings are faithful and true, and these are the things that must shortly be done," Rev. xxii. 3, 4, 6. And now we say, as Mephibosheth, Let the world take all besides, if we may but see the face of our Lord in peace. If the Lord lift up the light of his countenance on us here, it puts more gladness in our hearts than the world's increase can do, Psal. iv. 6, 7. How much more, when in his light we shall have light without darkness; and he shall make us full of joy with his countenance ! Psal. xxxvi. 9; Acts ii. 28; Psal. xxxiii. 1. Rejoice, therefore, in the Lord, O ye righteous; and shout for joy, all ye that are upright of heart; and say with his servant David, " The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance; the lines are fallen to me in pleasant places ; yea, I have a goodly heritage. I have set the Lord always before me : because he is at my right hand I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth; my flesh also shall rest in hope : for he will not leave me in the grave, nor suffer me (for ever) to see corruption. He will show me the path of life, and bring me into his presence, where is fulness of joy ; and at his right hand, where are pleasures for evermore," Psal. xvi. 5, 6, 8—11. " Whom, therefore, have I in heaven but him, or in earth that I desire besides him .' Mv flesh and my heart have failed, and will

c 2

fail me ; but God is the strength of my heart, and will be my portion for ever. He shall guide me with his counsel, and afterwards receive me to glory. And as they that are far from him shall perish, so is it good, the chief good, for us to be near to God," Psal. Ixxiii. 24—28.

The advancement is exceeding high : what unreverent, damnable presumption would it have been, once to have thought or spoken of such a thing, if God had not spoken it before us! I durst not have thought of the saints' preferment in this life, as Scripture sets it forth, had it not been the express truth of God. What vile unmannerliness, to talk of " l)eing sons of God," " speaking to him," " having fellowship and communion with him," " dwelling in him and he in us;" if this had not been God's own language ! How much less durst we have once thought of " being brighter than the sun in glory ;" of " being coheirs with Christ; of judging the world ; of sitting on Christ's throne ; of being one with him ;" if we had not all this from the mouth and under the hand of God ! But hath he said it, and shall it not come to pass ? Hath he spoken it, and will he not do it ? Yes, as true as the Lord God is true, thus shall it be done to the man whom Christ delights to honour. " The eternal God is their refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms : and the beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety by him, and the Lord shall cover them all the day long, and he shall dwell between their shoulders," Deut. xxxiii. 27, 28, " Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow them all the days of their lives, and then they shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever," Psal. xxiii. 6. O Christians! believe and consider this. Is sun, and moon, and stars, and all creatures, called upon to praise the Lord ? Psal. cxlviii. What then should his people do ? Surely they are nearer him, and enjoy more of him, than the brutes shall do. All his works praise him, but, above all, let his saints bless him, Psal. cv. 10. O let them speak of the glory of his kingdom, and talk of his power : to make known to the sons of men his mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of his kingdom, ver. 11, 12. " Let his praise be in the congregation of his saints. Let Israel rejoice in him that made him : let the children of Zion be joyful in their King. Let the saints be joyful in glory : let them sing aloud upon their beds. Let the high praises of God be in their mouth; for the Lord taketh pleasure in his people, and will beautify the meek with salvation," Psal. cxlix. 1, 2, 4—6. This is the "light that is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart," Psal. xcvii. 11. Yea, ''this honour have all his saints," Psal. cxlix. 9. If the estate of the devils, before their fall, were not much meaner than this, and perhaps lower than some of their fellow angels, surely their sin was most accursed and detestable. Could they aspire higher ? And was there yet room for discontent? What is it, then, that would satisfy them .' Indeed, the distance that we sinners and mortals are at from our God, leave us some excuse for discontent with our estate. The poor soul out of the depth cries, and cries aloud, as if his Father were out of hearing:

sometimes he chicles the interposing clouds ; sometimes he is angry at the vast gulf that is set between ; sometimes he would have the veil of mortality drawn aside, and thinks death hath forgot his business ; he ever quarrels with his sin that separates, and longs till it be separated from the soul, that it may separate God and him no more. Why, poor Christian, be of good cheer ; the time is near, when God and thou shalt be near, and as near as thou canst well desire : thou shalt dwell in his family ; is that enough { It is better to be a door-keeper in his house, than enjoy the portion of the wicked. Thou shalt ever stand before him, about his throne, in the room with him, in his presence-chamber. Wouldst thou yet be nearer .'' Thou shalt be his child, and he thy Father; thou shalt be an heir of his kingdom ; yea, more, the spouse of his Son : and what more canst thou desire t I'hou shalt be a member of the body of his Son, he shall be thy Head ; thou shalt be one with him, who is one with the Father. Read what he hath desired for thee of his Father. " That they all may be one, as thou. Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us; and the glory which thou gavest me, I have given them, that they may be one, even as we are one ; I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one, that the world may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me," John xvii. 21—23. What can you desire yet more ? Except you will, as some do, abuse Christ's expression of oneness, to conceive of such a union, as shall deify us; which were a sin one step beyond the aspiring arrogancy of Adam ; and, I think, heyond that of the devils. A real conjunction, improperly called union, we may expect; and a true union of affections. A moral union, improperly still called union, and a true relative union, such as is between the members of the same politic body and the head; yea, such as is between the husband and the wife, who are called one flesh. And a real communion, and communication of real favours, flowing from that relative union. If there be any more, it is acknowledged unconceivable, and consequently unexpressible, and so not to be spoken of. If any can conceive of a proper real* union and identity, which shall neither be a unity of essence, nor of person with Christ, I shall not oppose it: but to think of such a union were high blasphemy. Nor must you think of a union, as some do, upon natural grounds, following the dark, mistaken principles of Plato and Plotinus. If your thoughts be not guided and limited by Scripture in this, you are lost. Quest But how is it we shall enjoy God / q. How do wc enjoy

Answ. That is the fifth and last we come to. Ciod?

Sect. VI. 5. This rest containeth a sweet and a. A sweet and constant action of all the powers of the soul and constant action of all body in this fruition of God. It is not the rest of loXThe fruuL ' a stone, which ceaseth from all motion when it at- of God. tains the centre. The senses themselves, as I , r^^.i.

• 1 , , . . ..,'., 1. Ot the senses.

judge, are not only passive in receiving their ob-

* I take not the word real, as opposite to feigned, but to relative. Sec Mr. Wallis's Answer to the Lord Brooks fully on this.

ject, but partly passive and partly active. Whether the external senses, such as now we have, shall be continued and employed in this work, is a great doubt. For some of them, it is usually acknowledged they shall cease, because their being iniporteth their use, and their use implieth our estate of imperfection: as there is no use for eating and drinking, so neither for the taste. But for other senses the question will be harder; for Job saith, " I shall see him with these eyes."

But do not all senses imply our imperfection ? If Job did speak of more than a redemption from this present distress, as it is like he did, yet certainly these eyes will be made so spiritual, that whether the name of sense, in the same sense as now, shall befit them, is a question. This body shall be so changed, that it shall be no more flesh and blood,* for " that cannot inherit the kingdom of God," 1 Cor. XV. 50, but " a spiritual body," ver. 44. " That which we sow, we sow not that body that shall be; but God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own body," 1 Cor. XV. 37, 38. As the ore is cast into the fire a stone, but comes forth so pure a metal, that it deserves another name, and so the difference betwixt it and the gold exceeding great: so far greater will the change of our bodies and senses be ; even so great, as now we cannot conceive. If grace make a Christian differ so much from what he was, that the Christian could say to his companion. Ego non sian ego, I am not the man I was; how much more will glory make us differ ! We may then say much more. This is not the body I had, and these are not the senses I had. But because we have no other name for them, let us call them senses, call them eyes and ears, seeing and hearing : but thus conceive of the difference ; that as much as a body spiritual, above the sun in glory, exceedeth these frail, noisome, diseased lumps of flesh or dirt that now we carry about us; so far shall our senses of seeing and hearing exceed these we now possess : for the change of the senses must be conceived proportionable to the change of the body. And, doubtless, as God advanceth our sense, and enlargeth our capacity ; so will he advance the happiness of those senses, and fill up with himself all that capacity. And certainly the body should not be raised up and continued, if it should not share of the glory : for as it hath shared in the obedience and suff"erings, so shall it also do in the blessedness ; and as Christ bought the whole man, so shall the whole partake of the everlasting benefits of the purchase. The same difference is to be allowed for the tongue. For though, perhaps, that which we now call the tongue, the voice, the language, shall not then be; yet, with the forementioned, unconceivable change, it may continue. Certain it is, it shall be the

* I thiuk the apostle speaks of flesh and blood in a proper sense, and not of sin. For them that say, the flesh is but the soul's instrument, and therefore should no more suffer, than a cup, because poison was put in it, or a sword for killing a man, &c. they may find this very objection fully answered by Tertullian, lib. de Resurrect. Carnis, cap. 16. p. 410. Where he both shows, that the instruments may suffer according to their capacity, and that the flesh is more than a mere instrument to the soul, eyen a servant and an associate.

everlasting work of those blessed saints, to stand before the throne of God and the lianib, and to praise him for ever and ever. As their eyes and hearts shall be filled with his knowledf:fe, with his glory, and with his love ; so shall thcMr mouths be filled with his praises. Go on, therefore, O ye saints, while you are on earth, in that divine duty. Learn, O learn, that saint-beseeming work ; for in the mouths of his saints his praise is comely. Pray, but still praise : hear and read, but still praise (Psal. xxxiii. I, 2 ; cxlvii.) : praise him in the presence of his people; for it shall be your eternal work : praise him, while his enemies deride and abuse you : you shall praise him, while they shall bewail it, and admire you. O blessed employment, to sound forth for ever, " Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive honour, glory, and power," Rev. iv. 11. And, " Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing ; for he hath redeemed us to God by his blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; and hath made us unto your God kings and priests," Rev. v. 9, 10, 12. " AUelujah, salvation, and honour, and glory, and power, unto the Lord our God : praise our God, all ye his servants, and ye that fear him, small and great. AUelujah : for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth," Rev. xix. 1, 5, G. O Christians ! this is the blessed rest; a rest without rest : for, " they rest not day nor night, saying, Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come," Rev. iv. 8. Sing forth his praises now, ye saints; it is a work our Master Christ hath taught us. And you shall for ever sing Before him the song of Moses, and the song of the Lamb : " Great and marvellous are thy works. Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints," Rev. xv. 3.

Sect. VIL And if the body shall be thus em ^^^^^ ^^^

ployed, oh how shall the soul be taken up ! As its powers and capacities are greatest, so its actions strongest, and its enjoyments sweetest; as the bodily senses have their proper aptitude and action, whereby they receive and enjoy their objects, so doth the soul in its own action enjoy its own object, by knowing, by thinking and remembering, by loving, and by delightful joying : this is the soul's enjoying. By these eyes it sees, and by these arms it embraceth. If it might be said of the disciples with Christ on earth, much more that behold him in his glory, " Blessed are the eyes that see the things that ye see, and the ears that hear the things that ye hear ; for many princes and great ones have desired, and hoped, to see the things that ye see, and have not seen them," &c. Matt. xiii. 16, 17.

Knowledge of itself is very desirable, even the knowledge of some evil, though not the evil itself. As far as the rational soul exceeds the sensitive, so far the delights of a philosopher, in discovering the secrets of nature, and knowing the mystery of sciences, exceed the delights of the glutton, the drunkard, the unclean, and of all voluptuous sensualists whatsoever ; so excellent is all truth. What then is their delight, who know the God of truth ! What

would I not give, so that all the uncertain, questionable principles in logic, natural philosophy, metaphysics, and medicine, were but certain in themselves, and to me ; and that my dull, obscure notions of them were but quick and clear ! Oh, what then should I not either perform or part with to enjoy a clear and true apprehension of the most true God ! How noble a faculty of the soul is the understanding! It can compass the earth ; it can measure the sun, moon, stars, and heaven ; it can foreknow each eclipse to a minute, many years before : yea, but this is the top of all its excellency, it can know God, who is infinite, who made all these; a little here, and more, and much more hereafter. Oh the wisdom and goodness of our blessed Lord ! He hath created the understanding with a natural bias and inclination to truth and its object; and to the prime truth, as its prime object: and lest we should turn aside to any creature, he hath kept this as his own divine prerogative, not communicable to any creature, viz. to be the prime truth. And though I think not, as some do, that there is so near a close between the understanding and truth, as may produce a proper union or identity; yet, doubtless, it is no such cold touch or disdainful embrace, as is between these gross, earthly heterogeneals. The true, studious, contemplative man knows this to be true ; who feels as sweet embraces between his intellect and truth, and far more than ever the quickest sense did in possessing its desired object. But the true, studious, contemplative Christian knows it much more ; who sometimes hath felt more sweet embraces between his soul and Jesus Christ than all inferior truth can afford. I know some JChristians are kept short this way, especially the careless in their watch and walking; and those that are ignorant or negligent in the daily actings of faith, who look when God casts in joys, while they lie idle, and labour not to fetch them in by believing : but for others, I appeal to the most of them. Christian, dost thou not sometimes, when after long gazing heavenward thou hast got a glimpse of Christ, dost thou not seem to have been with Paul in the third heaven, whether in the body or out, and to have seen what is unutterable ? art thou not, with Peter, almost beyond thyself, ready to say, " Master, it is good to be here ?" Oh that I might ever see what I now see ! Didst thou never look so long upon the Son of God, till thine eyes were dazzled with his astonishing glory ? and did not the splendour of it make all things below seem black and dark to thee when thou lookedst down again, especially in thy day of suffering for Christ, when he usually appears most manifestly to his people ? Didst thou never see one walking in the midst of the fiery furnace with thee, like to the Son of God ? If thou do know him, value him as thy life, and follow on to know him (Hos. vi. 2, 3), and thou shalt know incomparably more than this; or, if I do but renew thy grief to tell thee what thou once didst feel, but now hast lost, I counsel thee to remember whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works, and be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain (Rev. ii. 5; iii. 2); and I dare promise thee, because God hath promised, thou

shalt see and know that which here thine eye could not see, nor thy understanding conceive. Believe me, Christians, yea, believe God, you that have known most of God in Christ here, it is as nothing to that you shall know ; it scarce, in comparison of that, deserves to be called knowledge. The dill'erence betwixt our knowledge now and our knowledge then, will be as great as that between our fleshly bodies now and our spiritual, glorified bodies then; for as these bodies, so that knowledge, nmst cease, that.a more perfect may succeed. Our silly, childish thoughts of God, which now is the highest we can reach to, must give place to a more manly knowledge. All this saith the apostle, " Knowledge shall vanish away ; for we know in part, &c. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I thought as a child, I understood as a child, but when I became a man, I put away childish things ; for now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face : now I know in part, but then I shall know even as also I am known," 1 Cor. xiii. 8—12.

Marvel not, therefore, Christian, at the sense of that place of John xvii. 3, how it can be life eternal to know God and his Son Jesus Christ; you must needs know, that to enjoy God and his Christ is eternal life, and the soul's enjoying is in knowing. They that savour only of earth, and consult with flesh, and have no way to try and judge but by sense, and never were acquainted with this know-lodge of God, nor tasted how gracious he is, these think it is a poor happiness to know God; let them have health and wealth, and worldly delights, and take you the other. Alas, poor men, they that have made trial of both do not grudge you your delights, nor envy your happiness, but pity your undoing folly, and wish. Oh that you could come near, and taste and try as they have done, and then judge ; then continue in your former mind if you can ! For our parts, we say with that knowing apostle, though the speech may seem presumptuous, " We know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness; and we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know him that is true ; and we are in him that is true, in his Son Jesus Christ: this is the true God, and eternal Life," 1 John v. 19, 20. Here one verse contains the sum of most that I have said. The Son of God is come to be our Head and Fountain of life, and so hath given us an understanding, that the soul may be personally qualified and made capable to know him (God) that is true, the prime Truth ; and we are brought so near in this enjoyment that we are in him that is true, not properly by an essential or personal union, but we are in him by being in his Son Jesus Christ. This, that we have mentioned, is the only true God, and so the fittest object for our understanding, which chooseth truth; and this knowing of him, and being in him, in Christ, is eternal life.

Sect. VIII. And, doubtless, the memory will not „ m

1-11 1 • 1 ■ 1 1 1 1 •,■ • 1 1 i 2. Memorv.

he Kile or useless m this blessed work, it it be but

by looking back to help the soul to value its enjoyment. Our

knowledge will be enlarged, not diminished; therefore, the knowledge of things past shall not be taken away; and what is that knowledge, but remembrance ? Doubtless, from that height, the saint can look behind him and before him ; and to compare past with present things, must needs raise, in the blessed soul, an inconceivable esteem and sense of its condition. To stand on that mount, whence we can see the wilderness and Canaan both at once; to stand in heaven, and look back on earth, and weigh them together in the balance of a comparing sense and judgment; how must it needs transport the soul, and make it cry out. Is this the purchase that cost so dear as the blood of God I No wonder: O blessed price, and thrice blessed love, that invented and condescended ! Is this the end of believing ? is this the end of the Spirit's workings? Have the gales of grace blown me into such a harbour ? is it hither that Christ hath enticed my soul ? O blessed way, and thrice blessed end! Is this the glory which the Scriptures spoke of, and ministers preached of so much ? Why, now I see the gospel indeed is good tidings, even tidings of peace and good things ; tidings of great joy to all nations (Luke i. 19 ; ii. 10; Acts xiii. 32). Is my mourning, my fasting, my sad humblings, my heavy walking, groanings, complainings, come to this ? are all my afflictions, sickness, languishing, troublesome physic, fears of death, come to this ? are all Satan's temptations, the world's scorns and jeers, come to this ? And, now, if there be such a thing as indignation left, how will it here let fly ! O vile nature, that resisted so much and so long such a blessing! Unworthy soul! is this the place thou earnest so unwillingly towards ? was duty wearisome ? was the world too good to lose ? Didst thou stick at leaving all, denying all, and suffering any thing for this ? wast thou loth to die to come to this ? O false heart, that had almost betrayed me to eternal flames, and lost me this glory ! O base flesh, that would needs have been pleased, though to the loss of this felicity ! Didst thou make me to question the truth of this glory ? didst thou show me improbabilities, and draw me to distrust the Lord ? didst thou question the truth of that Scripture which promised this ? Why, my soul, art thou not now ashamed that ever thou didst question that love that hath brought thee hither; that thou wast jealous of the faithfulness of thy Lord; that thou suspectedst his love when thou shouldst only have suspected thyself; that thou didst not live continually transported with thy Saviour's love ; and that ever thou quenchedst a motion of his Spirit ? Art thou not ashamed of all thy hard thoughts of such a God ; of all thy misinterpreting of, and grudging at, those providences, and repining at those ways, that have such an end ? Now, thou art sufficiently convinced that the ways thou calledst hard, and the cup thou calledst bitter, were necessary; that thy Lord hath sweeter ends, and meant thee better, than thou wouldst believe ; and that thy Redeemer was saving thee, as well when he crossed thy desires as when he granted them, and as well when he broke thy heart as when he bound it up. O, no thanks to thee, unworthy self, but shame.

for this received crown ; but to Jehovah and the Lamb be glory for ever.

Thus, as the memory of the wicked will eternally promote their torment, to look back on the pleasures enjoyed, the sin committed, the grace refused, Christ neglected, and time lost; so will the memory of the saints for ever promote their joys. And as it is said to the wicked, " Remember that thou in thy life-time re-ceivedst thy good things;" so will it be said to the Christian, " Remember that thou in thy life-time receivedst thine evils; but now thou art comforted, and they are tormented," Luke xvi. 25. And as here the remembrance of former good is the occasion of increasing our grief, " I remembered God, and was troubled; I called to remembrance my songs in the night," Psal. Ixxvii. 3, G; so there the remembrance of our former sorrows adds life to our joys.

Sect. IX. But oh the full, the near, the sweet 3. Affections. enjoyment is that of the affections, love, and joy ! l- Love. It is near; for love is of the essence of the soul, and love is the essence of God: "for God is love." How near, therefore, is this blessed closure ! The Spirit's phrase is, " God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him," 1 John iv. 8, 16. The acting of this affection, wheresoever, carrieth much delight along with it, especially when the object appears deserving, and the aflfection- is strong; but oh, what will it be when perfect affections shall have the strongest, perfect, incessant acting upon the most perfect object, the ever-blessed God ! Now the poor soul complains. Oh that I could love Christ more ! but I cannot ; alas ! I cannot: yea, but then thou canst not choose but love him : I had almost said, forbear if thou canst. Now, thou knowest little of his amiableness, and therefore lovest little ; then thine eye will affect thy heart, and the continual viewing of that perfect beauty will keep thee in continual ravishments of love. Now thy salvation is not perfected, nor all the mercies purchased yet given in; but w^hen the top-stone is set on, thou shalt, with shouting, cry, Grace, grace! Now thy sanctification is imperfect, and thy pardon and justification* not so complete as then it shall be ; now thou knowest not what thou enjoyest, and therefore lovest the less: but when thou knowest much is forgiven, and much bestowed, thou wilt love more. Doth David, after an imperfect deliverance, sing forth his love, " I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and supplications?" Psal. cxvi. 1. What think you will he do eternally ; and how will he love the Lord, who hath lifted him up to that glory ? Doth he cry out, " Oh how I love thy law !" Psal. cxix. 97. " My delight is in the saints on earth, and the excellent," Psal. xvi. 3. How will he say then, Oh how I love the Lord, and the King of saints, in whom is all my delight! Christians, doth it

* I know it is commonly said, that justification hath no degrees ; but j-et it is taken for several acts, whereof that of Christ absolving and acquitting us at the last judgment, is the most complete justification ; as Mr. Burgess, in his last lectures of justification, affirmeth.

now stir up your love, to remember all the experiences of his love; to look back upon a life of mercies ? doth not kindness melt you, and the sun-shine of Divine goodness warm your frozen hearts ? \V hat will it do, then, when you shall live in love, and have all in him, who is All ? Oh the high delights of love, of this love ; the content that the heart findeth in it; the satisfaction it brings along with it! Surely love is both work and wages.

And if this were all, what a high favour, that God will give us leave to love him ; that he will vouchsafe to be embraced by such arms, that have embraced lust and sin before him ! But this is not all. He returneth love for love ; nay, a thousand times more : as perfect as we shall be, we cannot reach his measure of love. Christian, thou wilt be then brimful of love; yet love as much as thou canst, thou shalt be ten thousand times more beloved (John xi. 33, 35, 36 ; Cant. i. 5 ; v. 2 ; vi. 9 ; iv. 9, 10, &c.) Dost thou think thou canst overlove him ? What! love more than love itself? Were the arms of the Son of God open upon the cross, and an open passage made to his heart by the spear, and will not arms and heart be open to thee in glory ? did he begin to love before thou lovedst, and will not he continue now ? did he love thee, an enemy; thee, a sinner; thee, who even loathedst thyself; and own thee when thou didst disclaim thyself; and will he not now immeasurably love thee, a son; thee, a perfect saint; thee, who returnest some love for love ? Thou wast wont injuriously to question his love ; doubt of it now if thou canst. As the pains of hell will convince the rebellious sinner of God's wrath, who would never before believe it; so the joys of heaven will convince thee thoroughly of that love which thou wouldst so hardly be persuaded of. He that in love wept over the old Jerusalem near her ruins, with what love will he rejoice over the new Jerusalem in her glory ! O, methinks I see him groaning and weeping over dead Lazarus, till he forced the Jews that stood by to say, " Behold how he loved him !" Will he not then much more, by rejoicing over us, make all (even the damned, if they see it) to say, Behold how he loveth them ? Is his spouse, while black, yet comely ? is she his love, his dove, his undefiled; doth she ravish his heart with one of her eyes ; is her love better than wine ? O believing soul, study a little, and tell me, what is the harvest which these first-fruits foretell; and the love which these are but the earnest of? Here! O, here is the heaven of heaven! this is the saint's fruition of God; in these sweet, mutual, constant actings and embracements of love, doth it consist. To love, and be beloved : " These are the everlasting arms that are underneath," Deut. xxxiii. 27. " His left hand is under their heads, and with his right hand doth he embrace them," Cant, ii. 6. Reader, stop here, and think awhile what a state this is. Is it a small thing in thine eyes to be beloved of God; to be the son, the spouse, the love, the delight of the King of glory ? Christian, believe this, and think on it; thou shalt be eternally embraced in the arms of that love, which was from everlasting, and will extend to everlasting: of tliat love, which brought the Son of God's love

from heaven to earth, from earth to the cross, from the cross to the grave, from the grave to glory : that love, which was weary, hungry, tempted, scorned, scourged, InifTeted, spit upon, crucified, pierced ; which did fast, pray, teach, heal, weep, sweat, bleed, die : that love •will eternally embrace them. When perfect created love and most perfect uncreated love meet together, oh the blessed meeting! It will not be like Joseph and his brethren, who lay upon one another's necks weeping ; it will break forth into a pure joy, and not such a mixture of joy and sorrow as their weeping argued ; it will be loving and rejoicing, not loving and sorrowing : yet will it make Pharaoh's (Satan's) court to ring with the news, that Joseph's brethren are come; that the saints are arrived safe at the bosom of Christ, out of the reach of hell for ever. Neither is there any such love as David's and Jonathan's; shutting up in sorrows, and breathing out its last into sad lamentations for a forced separation : no, Christ is the powerful attractive, the effectual Loadstone, who draws to it all like itself. " All that the Father hath given him, shall come unto him j" even the lover, as well as the love, doth he draw ; " and they that come unto him, he will in nowise cast out," John vi. 37—39. For know this, believer, to thy everlasting comfort, that if these arms have once embraced thee, neither sin nor hell can get thee thence for ever: the sanctuary is inviolable, and the rock impregnable, whither thou art fled, and thou art safe locked up to all eternity. Thou hast not now to deal with an unconstant creature, but with him with whom is no varying nor shadow of change, even the immutable God. If thy happiness were in thine own hand, as Adam's, there were yet fear; but it is in the keeping of a faithful Creator. Christ hath not bought thee so dear, to trust thee with thyself any more. His love to thee will not be as thine was on earth to him, seldom and cold, up and down, mixed (as agueish bodies) with burning and quaking, with a good day and a bad: no, Christian, he that would not be discouraged by thine enmity, by thy loathsome, hateful nature, by all thy unwillingness, unkind neglects, and churlish resistances; he that would neither cease nor abate his love for all these, can he cease to love thee, when he hath made thee truly lovely ? He that keepeth thee so constant in thy love to him, that thou canst challenge " tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, or sword," to separate thy love from Christ if they can, Rom. viii. 3.5, how much more will himself be constant ! Indeed, he that produced these mutual, embracing aifections, will also produce such a mutual constancy in both, that thou mayst confidently be persuaded, as Paul was before thee, " that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord," ver. 3S, 39. And now are we not left in the apostle's admiration ? What shall we say to these things ! Infinite love must needs be a mystery to a finite capacity. No wonder if angels desire to pry into this mystery (1 Pet. i. 12; Eph. iii. 18); and if it be the study of the

saints here, to know the height, and breadth, and length, and depth, of this love, though it passeth knowledge : this is the saints' rest in the fruition of God by love.

. Sect, X. Lastly: The affection of joy hath not

^ "'°^' the least share in this fruition. It is that which

all the rest lead to, and conclude in ; even the unconceivable complacency which the blessed feel in their seeing, knowing, loving, and being ])eloved of God. The delight of the senses here, cannot be known by expressions, as they are felt; how much less this joy ! This is the " white stone, which none knoweth but he that re-ceiveth," Rev. ii. 17 ; and if there be any "joy which the stranger meddleth not with," Prov. xiv. 10, then surely this, above all, is it. All Christ's ways of mercy tend to and end in the saints' joys. He wept, sorrowed, suffered, that they might rejoice ; he sendeth the Spirit to be their comforter; he multiplieth promises, he discovers their future happiness, that their " joy may be full:" he aboundeth to them in the mercies of all sorts; he maketh them lie down in green pastures, and leadeth them by the still waters; yea, openeth to them the fountain of living waters ; that their joy may be full; that they may thirst no more ; and that it may spring up in them to everlasting life (John xv. 11 ; xvi. 24; xvii. 13; Psal. xciv. 12, 13; 1 Thess. v. 16; Psal. xxxii. 11; xxxiii. 1, &c.) Yea, he causeth them to suffer, that he may cause them to rejoice ; and chasteneth them, that he may give them rest; and maketh them, as he did himself, " to drink of the brook in the way, that they may lift up the head," Psal. ex. 7. And lest, after all this, they should neglect their own comforts, he maketh it their duty, and presseth it on them, commanding them to " rejoice in him alway, and again to rejoice." And he never brings them into so low a condition, wherein he leaves them not more cause of joy than of sorrow. And hath the Lord such a care of our comfort here ; where, the Bridegroom being from us, we must mourn ? (Matt. ix. 15.) Oh ! what will that joy be, where the soul being perfectly prepared for joy, and joy prepared by Christ for the soul, it shall be our work, our business, eternally to rejoice ! And it seems the saints' joy shall be greater than the damned's torment: for their torment is the torment of creatures, prepared for the devil and his angels (Matt, xxv.) ; but our joy is the joy of our Lord; even our Lord's own joy shall we enter : " and the same glory which the Father giveth him, doth the Son give to them," John xvii. 22; " and to sit with him in his throne, even as he is set down in his Father's throne," Rev. iii. 21. What sayest thou to all this, O thou sad and drooping soul ? Thou that now spendest thy days in sorrow, and thy breath in sighings, and turnest all thy voice into groanings; who knowest no garments but sackcloth, no food but the bread and water of affliction; who minglest thy bread with tears, and drinkest the tears which thou weepest; what sayest thou to this great change, from all sorrow to more than all joy ? Thou poor soul, who prayest for joy, waitest for joy, complainest for want of joy, longest for joy; why, then, thou shalt have full joy,

as much as thou canst hold, and more than ever thou thoughtest on, or thy heart desired. And, in the mean time, walk carefully, watch constantly, and then lot God measure out thy times and degrees of joy. It may he he keeps them till thou have more need: thou mayst hetter lose thy comfort than thy safety : if thou shouldst die full of fears and sorrows, it will he but a moment, and they are all gone, and conclude in joy unconceivable. As the joy of the hypocrite, so the fears of the upright are but for a moment. And as their hopes are but golden dreams, which, when death awakes, do then all perish, and their hopes die with them ; so the saints' doubts and fears are but terrible dreams, which, when they die, do all vanish ; and they awake in joyful glory. For " God's anger endureth but a moment, but in his favour is life : w^eeping may endure for a night, (darkness and sadness go together,) but joy com-eth in the morning," Psal. xxx. 5. O blessed morning, thrice blessed morning ! poor, humble, drooping soul, how would it fill thee with joy now, if a voice from heaven should tell thee of the love of God; of the pardon of thy sins; and should assure thee of thy part in these joys ! Oh what then will thy joys be, when thy actual possession shall convince thee of thy title, and thou shalt be in heaven before thou art well aware ! when the angels shall bring thee to Christ, and when Christ shall, as it were, take thee by the hand, and lead thee into thy purchased possession, and bid thee welcome to his rest, and present thee unspotted before his Father, and give thee thy place about his throne ! Poor sinner, what sayest thou to such a day as this ? wilt thou not be almost ready to draw back, and to say, What I, Lord, I, the unworthy neglecter of thy grace ! I, the unworthy disesteemer of thy blood, and slighter of thy love ! must I have this glory ? " Make me a hired servant, I am no more worthy to be called a son." But love will have it so ; therefore must thou enter into his joy.

Sect. XI. And it is not thy joy only; it is a God will joy in us as mutual joy as well as a mutual love. Is there well as we iu him. such joy in heaven at thy conversion, and will there be none at thy glorification ? will not the angels welcome thee thither, and congratulate thy safe arrival ? Yea, it is the joy of Jesus Christ: for now he hath the end of his undertaking, labour, suffering, dying, when we have our joys ; when he is " glorified in his saints, and admired in all them that believe," 2 Thess. i. 10. We are his seed, and the fruit of his soul's travail, which, when he seetli, he will be satisfied, Isa. liii. 10, 11. This is Christ's harvest, when he shall reap the fruit of his labours ; and when he seeth it was not in vain, it will not repent him concerning his sufferings ; but he will rejoice over his purchased inheritance, and his people shall rejoice in him.

Yea, the Father himself puts on joy, too, in our joy : as we grieve his Spirit, and weary him with our iniquities, so he is rejoiced in our good. Oh how quickly here he doth espy a returning prodigal, even afar off! how doth he run and meet him ; and with what compassion falls he on his neck, and kisseth him; and puts

on him the best robe, and a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet, and spares not to kill the fatted calf, that they may eat and be merry ! This is indeed a happy meeting; but nothing to the em-bracements and the joy of that last and great meeting.

Yea, more yet; as God doth mutually love and joy, so he makes this his rest, as it is our rest. Did he appoint a sabbath, because he rested from six days' work, and saw all good, and very good ? "What an eternal sabbatism, then, when the work of redemption, sanctification, preservation, glorification, are all finished, and his work more perfect than ever, and very good indeed! So the Lord is said to rejoice, and to take pleasure in his people, Psal. cxlvii. 11, and cxlix. 4. O Christians, write these words in letters of gold; " The Lord thy God in the midst of thee, is mighty : he will save: he will rejoice over thee with joy : he will rest in his love : he will joy over thee with singing," Zeph. iii. 17. Oh, well may we then rejoice in our God with joy, and rest in our love, and joy in him with singing. See Isa. Ixv. 18, 19.

And now look back upon all this : I say to thee as the angel to John, " \\ hat hast thou seen ?" or if yet thou perceive not, draw nearer, come up higher, come and see. Dost thou fear thou hast been all this while in a dream ? Why, these are the true sayings of God. Dost thou fear, as the disciples, that thou hast seen but a ghost, instead of Christ (Luke xxiv. 37—39; Mark xvi. 7); a shadow instead of rest ? Why, come near and feel: a shadow contains not those substantial blessings, nor rests upon the basis of such a foundation truth, and sure word of promise, as you have seen these do. Go thy way now, and tell the disciples, and tell the humble, drooping souls thou meetest with, that thou hast in this glass seen heaven; that the Lord indeed is risen, and hath there appeared to thee ; and behold he is gone before us into rest; and that he is now preparing a place for them, and will come again, and take them to himself, that where he is, there they may be also, John xiv. 3. Yea, go thy ways, and tell the unbelieving world, and tell thy unbelieving heart, if they ask what is the hope thou boastest of, and what will be thy rest. Why, this is my Beloved, and my Friend, and this is my hope and my rest. Call them forth, and say, " Behold what love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be the sons of God," 1 John iii. 1 ; and that we should enter into our Lord's own rest.

Sect. Xn. But, alas! my fearful heart dare scarce proceed: methinks I hear the Almighty's voice saying to me, as to Elihu, " Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge ? " Job xxxviii. 2.

But pardon, O Lord, thy servant's sin : I have not pried into unrevealed things, nor, with audacious wits, curiously searched into thy counsels; but, indeed, I have dishonoured thy holiness, wronged thine excellency, disgraced thy saints' glory, by my own exceeding disproportionable portraying. 1 will bewail, from my heart, that my conceivings fall so short, my apprehensions are so dull, my thoughts so mean, my affections so stupid, and my expressions so

low and unbeso;Miiing such a glory. But I have only heard by the hearing of the ear: O let thy servant see thee, ancl possess these joys ; and then I shall have more suitable conceivings, and shall give thee fuller glory, and abhor my present self, and disclaim and renounce all those imperfections. " 1 have now uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not. Yet I believed, and therefore spake," Job xlii. 3. Remember with whom thou hast to do: what canst thou expect from dust but levity ; or from corruption, but defilement ? Our foul hands will leave, where they touch, the marks of their uncleanness ; and most on those things that are most pure. " 1 know thou wilt be sanctified in them that come nigh thee, and before all the people thou wilt be glorified," Lev. x. 2, 3; Numb. xx. 12 ; Deut. xxxii. 51. And if thy jealousy excluded from that land of rest thy servants, Moses and Aaron, because they sanctified thee not in the midst of Israel, what then may I expect ? But though the weakness and irreverence be the fruit of my own corruption, yet the fire is from thine altar, and the work of thy commanding. I looked not into thine ark, nor put forth my hand unto it without thee. O, therefore, wash away these stains also in the blood of the Lamb : and let not jealousy burn us up ; lest thou affright the people away from thee, and make them, in their discouragement, to cry out, " How shall the ark of God come to us ? Who is able to stand before this holy Lord God ? Who shall approach and dwell with the consuming fire.'" 2 Sam. vi. 9; 1 Sam. vi. 20; Matt. xxvi. 14. Imperfect, or none, must be thy service here. O, take thy Son's excuse, " The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

CHAPTER V.

THE FOUR GREAT PRETARATIVES TO OUR REST.

Sect. I. Having thus opened you a window toward the temple, and showed you a small glimpse of the back parts of that resemblance of the saints' rest which I had seen in the gospel-glass, it follows, that we proceed to view a little the adjuncts and blessed properties of this rest; but, alas ! this little whieh I have seen makes me cry out, with the prophet Isaiah, chap. vi. 5 —7, " Woe is me ! for I am undone, because I am a man of unclean lips, and dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts." Yet if he will send and touch my lips with a coal from the altar of his Son, and say, " Thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged," I shall then speak boldly; and if he ask, " Whom shall I send ?" I shall gladly answer, " Here am I, send me," ver. 8. And why doth my trembling heart draw back ? Surely the Lord is not now so terrible and inaccessible, nor the passage of paradise so blocked up, as when the law and curse

reigned. Wherefore, finding, beloved Christians,''' that the new and living way is consecrated for us, through the veil, the flesh of Christ, by which we may with boldness enter into the holiest, by the blood of Jesus, I shall draw near with the fuller assurance," Heb. X. 20—22. And finding the flaming sword removed, shall look again into the paradise of our God: and because 1 know that this is no forbidden fruit, and, withal, that it is good for food, and pleasant to the spiritual eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one truly wise and happy, Gen. iii. G ; I shall take, through the assistance of the Spirit, and eat thereof myself, and give to you, according to my power, that you may eat. For you. Christians, is this food prepared, this wine broached, this fountain opened; and the message my Father sends you is this hearty welcome, which you shall have in his own words, " Eat, O friends ; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved," Cant. v. 1. i\.nd, surely, it is neither manners nor wisdom for you or me, to draw back or to demur upon such an invitation.

The antecedents of And first, Let US consider of the eminent ante-our rest. cedents, the great preparations ; that notable in-

troduction to this rest; for the porch of this temple is exceeding glorious, and the gate of it is called Beautiful: and here offer themselves to our distinct observation, these four things, as the four corners of this porch.

1. The most glorious coming and appearing of the Son of God.

2. His powerful and wonderful raising of our bodies from the dust, and uniting them again with the soul.

3. His public and solemn proceedings in their judgment, where they shall be justified and acquitted before all the world.

4. His solemn celebration of their coronation, and his enthron-izing of them in their glory. Follow but this fourfold stream unto the head, and it will bring you just to the garden of Eden.

1. The coming of Sect. II. And well may the coming of Christ be Christ. reckoned into his people's glory, and enumerated

with those ingredients that compound this precious antidote of rest: for to this end it is intended; and to this end it is of apparent necessity. For his people's sake he sanctified himself to his office ; for their sake he came into the world, suffered, died, rose, ascended; and for their sake it is that he will return. Whether his own exaltation, or theirs, were his* primary intention, is a question, though of seeming usefulness, yet so unresolved, for aught I have found, in Scripture, that I dare not scan it, for fear of pressing into the Divine secrets, and approaching too near the inaccessible light. I find Scripture mentioning both ends distinctly and conjunctly, but not comparatively. This is most clear, that to this end will Christ come again to receive his people to himself, " that where he is, there they may be also," John xiv. 3. The Bridegroom's departure was not upon divorce ; he did not leave us with a purpose to return no more : he hath left pledges enough to assure us ; we have

* Viz. of the man Christ, next the alovy of the Godhead, Rom. xiv. 9; 2 Tliess. i. 10 ; Tit. ii. 14.

his word in pawn, his many promises, his sacraments, which show forth his death till he come, and his Spirit to direct, sanctify, and comfort, till he return. We have frequent tokens of love from him, to show us he forgets not his purpose, nor us. We he-hold the forerunners of his coming, foretold hy liimself, daily come to pass. We see the fig tree put forth her hranches, and therefore know the summer is nigh. We see the fields white unto harvest: and though the riotous world say, Our Lord will he long a coming, yet let the saints lift up their heads, for their redemption draweth nigh. Alas ! fellow Christians, what should we do, if our Lord should not return.''* What a case are we here left in ! What! leave us among wolves, and in the lion's den, among a generation of serpents, and here forget us ! Did he huy us so dear, and then cast us oif so { to leave us sinning, suffering, groaning, dying daily, and come no more at us ? It cannot be ; never fear it: it cannot be. This is like our unkind dealing witli Christ, who, when we feel ourselves warm in the world, care not for coming at him ; but this is not like Christ's dealing with us. He that would come to suffer, will surely come to triumph ; and he that would come to purchase, will surely come to possess. Alas ! where else were all our hopes ? What were become of our faith, our prayers, our tears, and our waiting ? What were all the patience of the saints worth to them ? Were we not left of all men most miserable !* Christians, hath Christ made us forsake all the world, and be forsaken of all the world ; to hate all, and to be hated of all; and all this for him, that we might have him instead of all ^ and will he, think you, after all this, forget us and forsake us himself? Far be such a thought from our hearts ! But why stayed he not with his people, while he was here { Why must not the Comforter be sent { \\ as not the work on earth done ? Must he not receive the recompence of reward, and enter into his glory i Must he not take possession in our behalf? Must he not go to prepare a place for us ? Must he not intercede with the Father; and plead his sufferings, and be filled with the Spirit, to send it forth ; and receive authority, to subdue his enemies ? Our abode here is short; if he had stayed on earth, what would it have been to enjoy him for a few days, and then die ? But he hath more in heaven to dwell among; even the spirits of the just of many generations, there made perfect. Besides, he will have us live by faith, and not by sight. Oh, fellow Christians, what a day will that be, when w^e, who have been kept prisoners l)y sin, by sinners, by the grave, shall be fetched out by the Lord himself; when Christ shall come from heaven to plead with his enemies, and set his captives free ! It will not be such a coming as his first was, in meanness, and poverty, and contempt: he will not come to be spit

* Matt. xxiv. 32, 48 ; x. IG ; Psal. Ivii. 4 ; Mntt. iii. 7. The ancient Christians still ^vorshipped in the churches with their faces eastward, to signify their continual expectation of Christ's coming, who they thousiht should appear in the east; from that of Matt. xxiv. 27 ; John xvi. 7 ; xvii." 4 ; lleh. xii. 2 ; Luke xxiv. 26 ; John xiv. 3 ; Hch. vii. 25, 26 ; Gal. iii. 14 ; Eph. iv. S, 9.

upon, and buffeted, and scorned, and crucified again : he will not come, O careless world, to be slighted and neglected by you any more. And yet that coming, which was necessarily in infirmity and reproach for our sakes, wanted not its glory. If the angels of heaven must be the messengers of that coming, as being " tidings of joy to all people," Luke ii. 22; and the heavenly host must go before or accompany the celebration of his nativity, and must praise God with that solemnity, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men;" oh, then, with what shoutings will angels and saints at that day proclaim. Glory to God, and peace and good will towards men! If the stars of heaven must lead men from remote parts of the world to come to worship a child in a manger, how will the glory of his next appearing constrain all the world to acknowledge his sovereignty ! If tlie King of Israel, riding on an ass, made his entry into Jerusalem with hosannahs, " Blessed be the King that comes in the name of the Lord : peace in heaven, and glory in the highest!" Luke xix. 38 ; oh with what proclamations of blessings, peace, and glory, will he come toward the new Jerusalem ! If, when he was in the form of a servant, they cry out, " What manner of man is this, that both wind and sea obey him ?" Matt. viii. 27 ; what will they say when they see him coming in his glory, and the heavens and the earth obey him! " Then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven : and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory," Mark iv, 41 ; Matt. xxiv. 30. O Christians, it was comfortable to you to hear from him, to believe in him, and hope for him. What wall it be to see him ? The promise of his coming and our deliverance was comfortable. What will it be thus to see him, with all the glorious attendance of angels, come in person to deliver us ? " The mighty God, the Lord, hath spoken, and called the earth from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof. Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God hath shined. Our God shall come, and shall not keep silence ; a fire shall devour before him, and it shall be very tempestuous round about him. He shall call to the heavens from above, and to the earth, that he might judge his people. Gather my saints together to me, those that have made a covenant with me by sacrifice. And the heavens shall declare his righteousness : for God is Judge himself. Selah," Psal. 1, 1—6. This coming of Christ is frequently mentioned in the prophets, as the great support of his people's spirits till then. And whenever the apostles would quicken to duty, or comfort, and encourage to patient waiting, they usually do it by mentioning Christ's coming. Why, then, do we not use more this cordial consideration, whenever we want support and comfort ? To think and speak of that day with horror, doth well beseem the impenitent sinner, but ill the believing saint. Such may be the voice of a believer, but it is not the voice of faith. Christians, what do we believe, and hope, and wait for, but to see that day ? This is Paul's encouragement to nioderation, to " rejoicing in the Lord alway;

The Lord is at hand," Phil. iv. 4, 5. It is " to all thorn that love his appoariiis:, that tho Lord, the righteous .Judge, shall give the crown of righteousness at that day," 2 Tim. iv. H. Dost thou so long to have him come into thy soul with comfort and life, and takest thyself hut for a forlorn orphan, while he seemeth ahsent ? And dost thou not nuich more long for that coming which shall perfect thy life, and joy, and glory { Dost thou so rejoice after some short and slender enjoyment of him in thy heart ? Oh ! how wilt thou then rejoice ! How full of joy was that blessed martyr, Mr. Glover, with the discovery of Christ to his soul, after long doubting and waiting in sorrows ! So that he cries out, He is come ! he is come ! If thou have but a dear friend returned, that hath been far and long absent, how do all run out to meet him with joy ! Oh ! saith the child, My father is come ! saith the wife, My husband is come ! And shall not we, when we behold our Lord in his majesty returning, cry out, He is come ! He is come ! Sliall the wicked, with inconceivable horror, behold him, and cry out, Oh 1 yonder is he whose blood we neglected, whose grace we resisted, whose counsels we refused, whose government we cast off! And shall not then the saints, with inconceivable gladness, cry out. Oh ! yonder is he whose blood redeemed us, whose Spirit cleansed us, whose law did govern us ! Yonder comes he in whom we trusted, and now we see he hath not deceived our trust ; he for whom we long waited, and now we see we have not waited in vain ! O cursed corruption, that would have had us turn to the world and present things, and give up our hopes, and say, ^V'hy should we wait for the Lord any longer ? Now we see, that " blessed are all they that wait for him." Believe it, fellow Christians, this day is not far off. " For yet a little w'hile, and he that comes will come, and will not tarry." And though the unbelieving world, and the unbelief of thy heart, may say, as those atheistical scoffers, " Where is the promise of his coming .'' Do not all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation ?" Yet, let us know, " the Lord is not slack of his promise, as some men count slackness : one day with him is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day," 2 Pet. iii. 3, 4, 8, 9. I have thought on it many a time, as a small emblem of that day, when I have seen a prevailing army drawing towards the towns and castles of the enemy. Oh ! with what glad hearts do all the poor prisoners within hear the news, and behold their approach ! How do they run up to their prison windows, and thence behold their friends with joy ! How glad are they at the roaring report of that cannon, which is the enemy's terror! How do they clap each other on the back, and cry, Deliverance, deliverance ! AVhile, in the mean time, the late insulting, scorning, cruel enemies begin to speak them fair, and beg their favour ; but all in vain, for they are not at the disposal of prisoners, but of the general. Their fair usage may make their conditions somewhat the more easy, but yet they are used as enemies still. Matt. xxiv. 27. Oh! when the conquering Lion of the tribe of Judah shall appear with all the hosts of heaven ;

when he shall surprise the careless world, as a thief in the night; when as the lightning, which appeareth in the east, and shineth even to the west, so they shall behold him coming; what a change will the sight of this appearance work, both with the world and with the saints ! Now, poor deluded world, where is your mirth and your jollity ? Now, where is your wealth and your glory ? where is that profane and careless heart, that slighted Christ and his Spirit, and withstood all the oiFers of grace ? Now, where is that tongue that mocked the saints, and jeered the holy ways of God, and made merry with his people's imperfections, and their own slanders ? What! was it not you ? Deny it if you can. Your heart condemns you, and " God is greater than your heart, and will condemn you much more," 1 John iii. 20, 21. Even when you say, " Peace and safety, then destruction cometh upon you, as travail upon a woman with child ; and you shall not escape," I Thess. v. 3. Perhaps, if you had known just the day and hour when the Son of man would have come, then you would have Ijeen found praying, or the like; but you should have watched, and been ready, because you know not the hour. But for that faithful and Avise servant, whom his Lord when he comes shall find so doing; " O, blessed is that servant: verily I say unto you, (for Christ hath said it,) he shall make him ruler over all his goods," Matt, xxiv. 42—47. " And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, he shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away," 1 Pet. v. 4. Oh how should it then be the character of a Christian, " to wait for the Son of God from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come," 1 Thess. i. 10. And with all faithful diligence, to prepare to meet our Lord with joy. And seeing his coming is on purpose " to be glorified in his saints, and admired in all them that believe," 2 Thess. i. 10; O, what thought should glad our hearts more than the thought of that day ! A little while, indeed, we have not " seen him, but yet a little while, and we shall see him," John xiv. 18. For he hath said, " I will not leave you comfortless, but will come unto you." We were comfortless, should he not come. And while we daily gaze and look up to heaven after him, let us remember what the angel said, " This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come, in like manner, as ye have seen him go into heaven," Acts i. 10. While he is now out of sight, it is a sword to our souls, while they daily ask us, " Where is your God ? " Psal. xlii. But then we shall be able to answer our enemies ; See, O proud sinners, yonder is our Lord. O now. Christians, should we not put up that petition heartily, " Let thy kingdom come ; for the Spirit and the bride say. Come. And let every Christian that heareth and read-eth, say, Come." And our Lord himself saith, " Surely I come quickly; Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus," Rev. xxii. 17, 20. Sect. in. The second stream that leadeth to „ _

T • ,1 . , 1 n r «-,,-.• 2. Our lesurrcction.

paradise, is that great work of Jesus Christ, in

raising our bodies from the dust, uniting them again unto the soul.

A wonderful effect of infinite power and love. Yea, wonderful in-

deed, saith unbelief, if it be true. Wbat! saith ibe allieist and Sadducce, sball all these scattered bones and dust become a man f A man drowned in the sea is eaten by fishes, and they by men again, and these men by worms ; what is become of the body of that first man ; shall it rise again ! I'hou fool, (for so Paul calls thee,) dost thou dispute against the power of the Almighty .' wilt thou pose him with thy sophistry .'' dost thou object dilHculties to the infinite strength ? Thou blind mole ; thou silly worm ; thou little piece of creeping, breathing clay ; thou dust; thou nothing ; knowest thou who it is, whose power thou dost question { If thou shouldst see him, thou wouldst presently die. If he should come and dispute his cause with thee, couldst thou bear it.'' or if thou shouldst hear his voice, couldst thou endure .'' But come thy way, let me take thee by the hand, and do thou a little follow me ; and let me, with reverence, as Elihu, plead for God, and for that power whereby I hope to arise. Seest thou this great, massy body of the earth : what beareth it, and upon what foundation doth it stand.'' Seest thou this vast ocean of waters : Avhat limits them, and why do they not overflow and drown the earth ? whence is that constant ebbing and flowing of her tides ? wilt thou say from the moon, or other planets ? and whence have they that power of eftective influence ? must thou not come to a cause of causes, that can do all things!" And doth not reason require thee to conceive of that cause as a perfect intelligence, and voluntary agent, and not such a blind worker and eni])ty notion as that nothing is, which thou callest nature ? Look upward ; seest thou that glorious body of light, the sun : how many times bigger it is than all the earth; and yet how many thousand miles doth it run in one minute of an hour, and that without weariness, or failing a moment! What thinkest thou ; is not that power able to efl^^ct thy resurrection, which doth all this i dost thou not see as great works as a resurrection every day before thine eyes, but that the commonness makes thee not admire them ? Read but Job xxxvii. to xli. and take heed of disputing against God again, for ever. Knowest thou not, that with him all things are possible ? Can he make a camel go through the eye of a needle ; can he make such a blind sinner as thou to see, and such a proud heart as thine to stoop, and such an earthly mind as thine heavenly ; and subdue all that thy fleshly, foolish wisdom ; and is not this as great a work, as to raise thee from the dust { Wast thou any unlikelier to be, when thou wast nothing, than thou shalt be when thou art dust ? Is it not as easy to raise the dead, as to make heaven and earth, and all of nothing .'' But if thou be unpersuadable, all I say to thee more is, as the prophet to the prince of Samaria, (2 Kings vii, 20,) " Thou shalt see that day with thine eyes," but little to thy comfort; for that which is the day of relief to the saints, shall be a day of revenge on thee; there is a rest prepared, but thou canst not '•' enter in because of unbelief," Heb. iii. 10. But for thee, O believing soul, never think to comprehend, in the narrow-capacity of thy shallow brain, the counsels and ways of thy Maker ; any more than thou canst contain in thy fist the vast ocean. He

never intended thee such a capacity, when he made thee, and gave thee that measure thou hast, any more than he intended to enable that worm, or this post, or stone, fully to know thee. Therefore, when he speaks, dispute not, but believe, as Abraham, who considered not his own body now dead, when he was about a hundred years old, nor yet the deadness of Sarah's womb ; he staggered not at the pi'omise of God through unbelief, but was strong in faith, giving glory to God; and being fully persuaded, that what he had promised he was also able to perform ; and so, " against hope, believed in hope," Rom. iv. 18—21. So look thou not on the dead bones, and dust, and difficulties, but at the promise, Isa. xxvi. 20, 21. Martha knew her brother should rise again at the resurrection ; but if Christ say, he shall rise before, it must be believed. Come, then, fellow Christians, let us contentedly commit these carcasses to the dust: that prison shall not long contain them. Let us lie down in peace, and take our rest; it will not be an everlasting night, or endless sleep. What if we go out of the troubles and stirs of the world, and enter into those chambers of dust, and the doors be shut upon us, and we hide ourselves, as it were, for a little moment, until the indignation be over-past ? Yet, behold the Lord cometh out of his place, to punish the inhabitants of the earth for their iniquity: and then the earth shall disclose us, and the dust shall hide us no more. As sure as we awake in the morning, when we have slept out the night, so sure shall we then awake. And what if, in the mean time, we must be loathsome lumps, cast out of the sight of men, as not fit to be endured among the living ; what, if our carcasses become as vile as those of the beasts that perish ; what, if our bones be dug up, and scattered about the pit brink, and worms consume our flesh { yet we know our Redeemer liveth, and shall stand at last on earth, and we shall see him with these eyes. And withal it is but this flesh that suffers all this, which has been a clog to our souls so long. And what is this comely piece of flesh, which thou art loth should come to so base a state ? It is not a hundred years since it was either nothing, or an invisible something. And is it not most of it for the present, if not an appearing nothing, seeming something to an imperfect sense ; yet, at best, a condensation of invisibles, which, that they may become sensible, are become more gross, and so more vile ? Where is all that fair mass of flesh and blood which thou hadst, before sickness consumed thee ? annihilated it is not; only resolved into its principles : show it me if thou canst. Into how small a handful of dust or ashes will that whole mass, if buried or burnt, return ! and into how much smaller can a chemist reduce that little, and leave all the rest invisible! What if God prick the bladder, and let out the whid that puff's thee up to such a substance, and resolve thee into thy principles ? Doth not the seed thou sowest die before it spring ? And what cause have we to be tender of this body ? Oh what care, what labour, what grief and sorrow hath it cost us; how many a weary, painful, tedious hour ! O my soul, grudge not that God should disburden thee of all this : fear not lest he should free

thee from thy fettors : he not so loth that he should break down thy prison, and lot thoe cjo : what though some terrii)le earthcjuake gobefore ; it is but that the foundations of the prison may be shaken, and so the doors fly open ; the terror will be to thy jailer, but to thee deliverance. O, therefore, at what hour of the night soever thy Lord come, let him find thee, though with thy feet in these stocks, yet singing praises to him, and not fearing the time of thy deliverance. If unclothing be the thing thou fearest, why it is that thou mayst have better clothing put on. If to be turned out of doors be the thing thou fearest, why remend)er, then, when this earthly house of thy tabernacle is dissolved, thou hast " a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." How willingly do our soldiers burn their huts, when the siege is ended, being glad their work is done, that they may go home and dwell in houses ! Lay down, then, cheerfully this bag of loathsome filth, this lump of corruption ; thou shalt undoubtedly receive it again in incorruption. Lay down freely this terrestrial, this natural ])ody ; believe it, thou shalt receive it again a celestial, a spiritual body. And though thou lay it down into the dirt with great dishonour, thou shalt receive it into glory with honour : and though thou art separated from it through weakness, it shall be raised again, and joined to thee in mighty power. When the trumpet of God shall sound the call, " Come away, arise, ye dead," 1 Cor. xv. 42—4.5 ; who shall then stay behind ? Who can resist the powerful command of our Lord, when he shall call to the earth and sea, " O earth, give up thy dead! O sea, give up thy dead?" Then shall our Samson break for us the bonds of death. And as the ungodly shall, like toads from their holes, be drawn forth whether they will or no; so shall the godly, as prisoners of hope, awake out of sleep, and come with joy to meet their Lord. The first that shall be called, are the saints that sleep ; and then the saints that are then alive shall be changed. For Paul hath told us, by the word of the Lord, " That they which are alive, and remain till the coming of the Lord, shall not prevent them w hich are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then they which are alive, and remain, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air; and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore, O Christians, comfort one another with these words," 1 Thess. iv. 15—18. This is one of the gospel mysteries : " That we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption ; and this mortal, immortality. Then is death swallow-ed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory ? Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ," 1 Cor. xv. 51—57. Triumph now, O Christian, in these promises; thou shalt shortly triumph in their performance. For this is the day

that the Lord will make; " we shall be glad and rejoice therein," Psalm cxviii. The grave that could not keep our Lord, cannot keep us: he arose for us, anil by the same power will cause us to arise. " For if we believe that Jesus died, and rose again; even so them also which sleep in Jesus, will God bring with him," 1 Thess. iv. 14. Can the head live, and the body and members remain dead ? O, write those sweet words upon thy heart, Christian, " Because I live, ye shall live also," John xiv. 19. As sure as Christ lives, ye shall live ; and as sure as he is risen, we shall rise. Else the dead perish. Else what is our hope ; what advan-tageth all our duty or suffering ? Else the sensual epicure were one of the wisest men; and what better are we than our beasts ? Surely our knowledge, more than theirs, would but increase our sorrows ; and our dominion over them is no great felicity. The servant hath ofttimes a better life than his master, because he hath few of his master's cares. And our dead carcasses are no more comely, nor yield a sweeter savour, than theirs. But we have a sure ground of hope, x^nd besides this life, we have " a life that is hid with Christ in God; and when Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall we also appear with him in glory," Col. iii. 3, 4.

0 let us not be as the purblind world, that cannot see afar off; let us never look at the grave, but let us see the resurrection beyond it. Faith is quick-sighted, and can see as far as that is ; yea, as far as eternity. Therefore let our hearts be glad, and our glory rejoice, and our flesh also shall rest in hope ; for he will not leave us in the grave, nor suffer us still to see corruption. Yea, " Therefore, let us be stedfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as we know our labour is not in vain in the Lord,"

1 Cor. XV. 58. (1 Cor. xv. 13, 14, 17—19, 30—32.)

God made not death, but Christ overcame it, when sin had introduced it. Death is from ourselves, but life from the Author and Lord of life. The devil had the power of death till he was overcome by death, Heb. ii. 14, 15; but he that liveth and was dead, and is alive for evermore, hath now the keys of death and hell. Rev. i. 18. That the very damned live, is to be ascribed to him; that they live in misery, is long of themselves. Not that it is more desirable to them to live miserably, as there they must do, than not to live; but as God's glory is his chief, if not only, end, in all his works, so was it the Mediator's chief end in the world's reparation. They shall, therefore, live, whether they will or no, for God's glory, though they live not to their own comfort, because they would not.

But whatsoever is the cause of the wicked's resurrection, this sufficeth to the saints' comfort, that resurrection to glory is only the fruit of Christ's death : and this fruit they shall certainly partake of. The promise is sure : " All that are in their graves shall hear his voice, and come forth," John v. 28. And this is the Father's will which hath sent Christ, " that of all which he hath given him he should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day," John vi. 39; " and that every one that believeth on the Son

may have everlasting life, and he will raise him np at the last clay," vor. U). If the prayers of the prophet coukl raise the Shunani-mite's dead chikl, and if the dead soldier revived at the touch of the prophet's hones, how certainly shall the will of Christ, and the power of his death, raise us. The voice that said to J aims' daughter, "Arise;" and to Lazarus, "Arise, and come forth," can do the like for us. If his death immediately raised the dead bodies of many saints in Jerusalem; if he gave power to his apostles to raise the dead ; then what doubt of our resurrection ? And thus, Christian, thou seest that, Christ having sanctified the grave by his burial, and conquered death, and broke the ice for us, a dead body and a grave is not now so horrid a spectacle to a believing eye ; but as our Lord was nearest his resurrection and glory when he was in the grave, even so are we ; and he that hath promised to make our bed in sickness, will make the dust as a bed of roses. Death shall not dissolve the union betwixt him and us, nor turn away his affections from us; but in the morning of eternity he will send his angels, yea, come himself, and roll away the stone, and unseal our grave, and reach us his hand, and deliver us alive to our Father. Why, then, doth the approach of death so cast thee down, O my soul; and why art thou thus disquieted within me ? The grave is not boll: if it were, yet there is thy Lord present; and thence should his merit and mercy fetch thee out. Thy sickness is not unto death, though I die, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified thereby. Say not, then, he lifted me up to cast me down, and hath raised me high that my fall may 1)6 the lower; but he casts me down that he may lift me up, and layeth me low that I may rise the higher. A hundred experiences have sealed this truth unto thee, that the greatest dejections are intended but for advantages to thy greatest dignity and the Redeemer's glory.

Sect. IV. The third part of this prologue to the 3. Our justification saints' rest, is the public and solemn process at ^^ judgment. their judgment, where they shall first, themselves, be acquitted and justified; and then, wdth Christ, judge the world. Public I may v.ell call it, for all the world must there appear; young and old, of all estates and nations, that ever were from the creation to that day, must here come and receive their doom. The judgment shall l)e set, and the books opened, and the book of life produced; "and the dead shall be judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works; and whosoever is not found written in the book of life, is cast into the lake of fire," Rom. ii. 16; xiv. 10; Rev. XX. 12—15. O, terrible ! O, joyful day ! Terrible to those that have let their lamps go out, and have not watched, but forgot the coming of their Lord; joyful to the saints, whose waiting and hope was to see this day. Then shall the world behold the goodness and severity of the I^ord: on them who perish, severity ; but to his chosen, goodness : when every one must give account of his stewardship, and every talent of time, health, wit, mercies, afiiictions, means, warnings, nmst be reckoned for, Matt.

xxiv.; XXV. 5—7 ; Rom. i. 22; when the sins of youth, and those which they had forgotten, and their secret sins, shall all be laid open before angels and men; when they shall see all their friends, wealth, old delights, all their confidence and false hopes of heaven, to forsake them ; when they shall see the Lord Jesus Christ, whom they neglected, whose word they disobeyed, whose ministers they abused, whose servants they hated, now sitting to judge them ; when their own consciences shall cry out against them, and call to their remembrance all their misdoings : Remember at such a time, such or such a sin; at such a time Christ sued hard for thy conversion ; the minister pressed it home to thy heart, thou wast touched to the quick with the word; thou didst purpose and promise retui'ning, and yet thou cast off all. When a hundred sermons, sabbaths, mercies, shall each step up and say, I am witness against the prisoner ; Lord, I was abused, and I was neglected ; oh, which way will the wretched sinner look ! oh, who can conceive the terrible thoughts of his heart! Now the world cannot help him ; his old companions cannot help him ; the saints neither can nor will: only the Lord Jesus can ; but, oh ! there is the soul-killing misery, he will not; nay, without violating the truth of his word, he cannot ; though otherwise, in regard of his absolute power, he might. The time was, sinner, when Christ would, and you would not ; and now, oh ! fain would you, and he will not. Then he followed thee, in vain, with entreaties : O poor sinner, what doest thou; wilt thou sell thy soul and Saviour for a lust ? look to me, and be saved; return, why wilt thou die i* But thy ear and heart were shut up against all. Why, now thou shalt cry. Lord, Lord, open to us; and he shall saj^, " Depart, I know you not, ye workers of iniquity," Matt, vii, 22, 23. Now, Mercy, mercy, Lord! O, but it was mercy you so long set light by, and now your day of mercy is over. What then remains, but to cry out to the mountains. Fall upon us; and to the hills, O cover us from the presence of him that sits upon the throne ! But all in vain ; for thou hast the Lord of mountains and hills for thine enemy, whose voice they will obey, and not thine. Sinner, make not light of this ; for, as thou livest, except a thorough change and coming in to Christ prevent it, which God grant, thou shalt shortly, to thy unconceivable horror, see that day. O wretch, will thy cups then be wine or gall ; will they be sweet or bitter ; will it comfort thee to think of thy merry days, and how pleasantly thy time slipped away ; will it do thee good to think how rich thou wast, and how honourable thou wast ? or will it not rather wound thy very soul to remember thy folly, and make thee, with anguish of heart, and rage against thyself, to cry out, O wretch, where was mine understanding ? Didst thou make so light of that sin that now makes thee tremble ? how couldst thou hear so lightly of the redeeming blood of the Son of God; how couldst thou quench so many motions of his Spirit, and stifle so many quickening thoughts as were cast into thy soul ? What took up all that life's time which thou hadst given thee to make sure work against this day; what took up all thy heart, thy love, and delight,

which should have hccn laid out on the Lord Jesus ? Hadst thou room in thy heart for the world, thy friend, ihy flesh, thy lusts, and none for Christ ? O wretch, whom hadst thou to love, hut him ; what hadst thou to do, hut to seek him, and cleave to him, and enjoy him ? Oh ! wast thou not told of this dreadful day a thousand times, till the commonness of that doctrine made thee weary? how couldst thou slight such warnings, and rage against the minister, and say he preached damnation? had it not heen hetter to have heard and prevented it, than now to endure it ? Oh, now, for one offer of Christ, for one sermon, for one day of grace more ; but too late ; alas ! too late. Poor, careless sinner, I did not think here to have said so much to thee ; for my business is to refresh the saints; but if these lines do fall into thy hands, and thou vouchsafe the reading of them, I here charge thee, before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom, 2 Tim. iv. 1, that thou make haste and get alone, and set thyself sadly to ponder on these things. Ask thy heart. Is this true, or is it not; is there such a day, and must I see it ? Oh what do I then; why trifle I; is it not time, full time, that I had made sure of Christ and comfort long ago ; should I sit still another day, who have lost so many ? had I not rather be found one of the holy, faithful, watchful Christians, than a worldling, a good fellow, or a man of honour; why should I not, then, choose it now ; will it be best then, and is it not best now ? O, think of these things ! A few sad hours spent in serious fore-thoughts is a cheap prevention ; it is worth this, or it is worth nothing. Friend, I profess to thee, from the word of the Lord, that of all thy sweet sins, there will then be nothing left, but the sting in thy conscience, which will never out through all eternity ; except the blood of Christ, believed in, and valued above all the world, do now, in this day of grace, get it out. Thy sin is like a beautiful harlot : while she is young and fresh, she hath many followers; but when old and withered, every one would shut their hands of her: she is only their shame ; none would know her. So will it be with thee : now thou wilt venture on it, whatever it cost thee ; but then, when men's rebellious ways are charged on their souls to death, oh that thou couldst rid thy hands of it ; oh that thou couldst say. Lord, it was not I! Then, Lord, when saw we thee hungry, naked, imprisoned ? how fain would they put it olF! Then sin will be sin indeed, and grace will be grace indeed; then, say the foolish virgins. Give us of your oil, for our lamps are out. Oh for some of your faith and holiness, which we were wont to mock at! But what is the answer. Go buy for yourselves ; we have little enough ; would we had rather much more. Then they will be glad of any thing like grace; and if they can but produce any external familiarity with Christ, or common gifts, how glad are they ! Lord, we have eat and drunk in thy presence, prophesied in thy name, cast out devils, done many wonderful works; we have been baptized, heard sermons, professed Christianity : but, alas ! this will hot serve the turn. He will profess to them, I never knew you; depart from me,

ye workers of iniquity. O dead-hearted sinner, is all this nothing to thee ? As sure as Christ is true, this is true; take it in his own words : " When the Son of man shall come in his glory : and before him shall be gathered all nations ; and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats : and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, and the goats on the left," Matt. XXV. 31. And so on, as you may read in the text.

But why tremblest thou, O humble, gracious soul .'' Cannot the enemies and slighters of Christ be foretold their doom, but thou must quake ? do I make sad the soul that God would not have sad? Ezek. xiii. 22. Doth not thy Lord know his own sheep, " who have heard his voice, and followed him .'"' John x. 27. He that would not lose the family of one Noah in a common deluge, when him only he had found faithful in all the earth. Gen. vii. 1—3; xix. 22 ; he that would not overlook one Lot in Sodom, nay, that could do nothing till he went forth ; will he forget thee at that day ? " Thy Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptation, and to reserve the unjust to the day of judgment to be punished," 2 Pet. ii. 9 ; he knoweth how to make the same day the greatest for terror to his foes, and yet the greatest for joy to his people. He ever intended it for the great distinguishing and separating day ; wherein both love and fury should be manifested to the highest, Matt. xiii. O, then, " Let the heavens rejoice, the sea, the earth, the floods, the hills; for the Lord cometii to judge the earth : with righteousness shall he judge the world, and the people with equity," Psal. xcvi. 11—13. But, especially, " Let Sion hear, and be glad, and her children rejoice," Psal. xcviii. 7—9 ; for, " when God ariseth to judgment, it is to save the meek of the earth," Psal. xcvii. 8. They have judged and condemned themselves many a day in heart-breaking confessions, and therefore shall not be judged to condemnation by the Lord; " for there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit," 1 Cor. xi. 31. And, " Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect ?" Rom. viii. 1, 33. Shall the law ? Why, " Whatsoever the law saith, it saith to them that are under the law ; but we are not under the law, but under grace : for the law of the Spirit of life, which is in Christ Jesus, hath made us free from the law of sin and death," Rom. iii. 19 ; v. 1 ; vi. 14; viii. 2. Or shall conscience ? Why, we were, long ago, " justified by faith, and so have peace with God, and have our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience; and the Spirit bearing witness with our spirits, that we are the children of God," Heb. x. 22. " It is God that justifieth ; who shall condemn?" Rom. viii. IG. If our Judge condemn us not, who shall ? He that said to the adulterous woman, " Hath no man condemned thee ? neither do I condemn thee," John viii. 11; he will say to us, more faithfully than Peter to him, " Though all men deny thee, or condemn thee, I will not," Mark xiv. 31. " Thou hast confessed me before men, and I will confess thee before my Father, and the angels of heaven," Matt. x. 32. He, whose first coming was not " to condemn the world, but

that the world through him might be saved," John iii. 17 ; I am sure, intends not his second coming to condenm his people, hut that they, through him, might he saved. He hath given us eternal lite in charter and title already, yea, and partly in possession; and will he after that condenm us ? When he gave us the knowledge of his Father and himself, he gave us eternal life ; and he hath verily told us, "that he that heareth his word, and believeth on him that sent him, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, hut is passed from death to life," John v. 24; xvii, S. Indeed, if our Judge were our enemy, as he is to the world, tlien we might well fear. If the devil were our judge, or the ungodly were our judge, then we should he condemned as hypocrites, as heretics, as schismatics, as proud, or covetous, or what not ? liut our Judge is Christ, who died ; yea, rather, who is risen again, and maketh request for us: for "all power is given him in heaven and in earth, and all things delivered into his hands ; and the Father hath given him authority to execute judgment also, because he is the Son of man" (Kom. viii. 34, 35; Matt, xxviii. 18; John xiii. 3; ix. 22, 23, 27), For, though God judge the world, yet the Father, immediately, without his Vicegerent, Christ, judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment to the Son, that all men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father. Oh what unexpressible joy may this afford to a believer, that our dear Lord, who loveth our souls, and whom our souls love, shall be our Judge! Will a man fear to be judged by his dearest friend, by a brother, by a father, or a wife by her own husband i Christian, did he come down, and suffer, and weep, and bleed, and die for thee, and will he now condemn thee i was he judged, and condemned, and executed in thy stead, and now will he condemn thee himself.'' did he make a bath of his blood for thy sins, and a garment of his own righteousness for thy nakedness, and will he nov/ open them to thy shame ! is he the undertaker for thy salvation, and will he be against thee i hath it cost him so dear to save thee, and will he now himself destroy thee ? hath he done the most of the work already, in redeeming, regenerating, and sanctifying, justifying, preserving, and perfecting thee, and will he now undo all again .' nay, hath he begun, and will he not finish ; hath he interceded so long for thee to the Father, and will he cast thee away himself? If all these be likely, then fear, and then rejoice not. Oh what an unreasonable sin is unbelief, that will charge our Lord with such unmercifulness and absurdities ! Well, then, fellow Christians, let the terror of that clay be never so great, surely our Lord can mean no ill to us in all: let it make the devils tremble, and the wicked tremble ; but it shall make us to leap for joy : let Satan accuse us, we have our answer at hand ; our Surety hath discharged the debt. If he have not fulfilled the law, then let us be charged as breakers of it: if he have not suffered, then let us suffer; but if he have, we are free: nay, our Lord will make answer for us himself. '• These are mine, and shall be made up with my jewels : for their transgressions was I stricken, and cut off from the earth ; for them

was I bruised and put to grief: my soul was made an offering for . their sin, and I bore their transgressions. They are my seed, and the travail of my so\d: I have healed them by my stripes ; I have justified them by my knowledge," Isa. liii. 5, 8, 10, 11. "They are my sheep : who shall take them out of my hands ?" John x. 28. Yea, though the humble soul be ready to speak against itself, " Lord, when did we see thee hungry, and fed thee," &c. yet will not Christ do so. This is the day of the believer's full justification. They were, before, made just, and esteemed just, and by faith justified in law ; and this, to some, evidenced to their consciences. But now they shall both, by apology, be maintained just; and, by sentence, pronounced just actually, by the lively voice of the Judge himself; which is the most perfect justification. Their justification by faith, is a giving them title in law, to that apology and absolving sentence which at that day they shall actually receive from the mouth of Christ; by which sentence, their sin, which before was pardoned in the sense of the law, is now perfectly pardoned, or blotted out by this ultimate judgment, Acts iii. 19. Therefore, well may it be called the time of refreshing, as being to the saints the perfecting of all their former refreshments. He who was vexed with a quarrelling conscience, an accusing world, a cursing law, is solemnly pronounced righteous by the Lord, the Judge. Though he cannot plead Not guilty, in regard of fact, yet, being pardoned, he shall be acquitted by the proclamation of Christ: and that is not all; "but he that was accused as deserving hell, is pronounced a member of Christ, a son of God, and so adjudged to eternal glory. The sentence of pardon, passed by the Spirit and conscience within us, was wont to be ex^eding sweet; but this will fully and finally resolve the question, and leave no room for doubting again for ever. We shall more rejoice that our names are found written in the book of life, than if men or devils were subjected to us ; and it must needs affect us deeply with the sense of our mercy and happiness, to behold the contrary condition of others; to see most of the world tremble with terror, while we triumph with joy ; to hear them doomed to everlasting flames, and see them thrust into hell, when we are proclaimed heirs of the kingdom ; to see our neighbours, that lived in the same towns, came to the same congregations, sat in the same seats, dwelt in the same houses, and were esteemed more honourable in the world than ourselves; to see them now so differenced from us, and, by the Searcher of hearts, eternally separated. This, with the great magnificence and dreadfulness of the day, doth the apostle pathetically express: " It is righteous with God, to recompense tribulation to them that trouble you; and to you who are troubled, rest with us ; when the Lord Jesus shall "he revealed from heaven with his mighty angels, in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power," &c. 2 Thess, i. 6—10. And now, is not here enough to make that day a welcome

(lay, and the thoughts of it delightful to us ? but yet there is more. ^Vo shall be so far from the dread of that judgment, that ourselves shall become the judges. Christ will take his people, as it were, into commission with him ; and they shall sit and approve his righteous judgment. O fear not now the reproaches, scorns, and censures, of those that nmst then be judged by us. Did you think, O wretched worldlings, that those poor, despised men, whom you made your daily derision, should be your judges ? did you believe this, when you made them stand as oiFenders before the bar of your judgment ? No more than Pilate, when he was judging Christ, did believe that he was condemning his Judge ; or the Jews, when they were whipping, imprisoning, killing the apostles, did think to see them sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. " Do you not know," saith Paul, " that the saints shall judge the world ! nay, know you not that we shall judge angels?" 1 Cor, vi. 2, 3. Surely, were it not the word of Christ that speaks it, this advancement would seem incredible, and the language arrogant; yet even Enoch, the seventh from Adam, prophesied of this, saying, " Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousand of his saints, to execute judgment upon all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them, of all their ungodly deeds, w^hich they have ungodly committed ; and of all their hard speeches, which ungodly sinners have spoken against him," Jude 14. Thus shall the saints be honoured, and the " righteous have dominion in the morning," Psal. ix. 14. Oh that the careless world were "but wise to consider this, and that they would remember their latter end !" Deut. xxxii. 29. That they would be now of the same mind as they will be when they shall see the " heavens pass away with a noise, and the elements melt with fervent heat; the earth also, and the works that are therein, to be burnt up," 2 Pet. iii. 10. When all shall be on fire about their ears, and all earthly glory consumed ; " for the heavens and the earth, which are now, are reserved unto fire against the day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men," 2 Pet. iii. 7, But, alas ! when all is said, " the wicked will do wickedly; and none of the wicked shall understand ; but the wise shall understand," Dan. xii. 10. Rejoice, therefore, O ye saints, yet watch; and what you have, hold fast till your Lord come. Rev. ii. 25. And study that use of this doctrine which the apostle propounds : " Seeing, then, that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be, in all holy conversation and godliness, looking for and hasting to the coming of the day of God; wherein the heavens being on fire, shall be dissolved, and the elements melt with fervent heat?" 2 Pet. iii. 11, 12. But go your way, keep close with God, and wait till your change come, and till this end be ; " for you shall rest, and stand in the lot at the end of the days," Dan. xii. 13.

Sect. V. The fourth antecedent, and highest 4. Our solemn coro-step to the saints' advancement, is their solemn nation,

coronation, enthronizing, and receiving into the kingdom. For, as Christ, their Head, is anointed both King and Priest, so under

E

him are his people made unto God both kings and priests, Rev, i. 5, (for prophecy, that ceaseth,) " to reign and to offer praises for ever," Rev. v. 10. " The crown of righteousness, which was laid up for them, shall by the Lord the righteous Judge he given them at that day," 2 Tim. iv. 8. " They have been faithful to the death, and therefore shall receive the crown of life," Rev. ii. 10. And according to the improvement of their talents here, so shall their rule and dignity be enlarged, Matt. xxv. 21, 23; so that they are not dignified with empty titles, but real dominions : for Christ " will take them and set them down with himself on his own throne," Rev. iii. 21 ; and will give them power over the nations, even as he received of his Father, Rev. ii. 26—28 ; and will give them the morning star. The Lord himself will give them possession with these applauding expressions : " Well done, good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things : enter thou into the joy of thy Lord," Matt. xxv. 21, 23. And with this solemn and blessed proclamation shall he enthrone them : " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." Every word full of life and joy. " Come ;" this is the holding forth of the golden sceptre, to warrant our approach unto this glory. Come now as near as you will: fear not the Bethshemites' judgment, for the enmity is utterly taken away. This is not such a " come " as we were wont to hear; " Come, take up your cross and follow me : " though that was sweet, yet this much more. "Ye blessed;" blessed indeed, when that mouth shall so pronounce us. For though the world hath accounted us accursed, and we have been ready to account ourselves so, yet certainly those that he blesseth are blessed, and those whom he curseth only are cursed: and his blessing shall not be revoked; but he hath blessed us, and we shall be blessed. " Of my Father ;" blessed in the Father's love as well as the Son's, for they are one. The Father hath testified his love in their election, donation to Christ, sending of Christ, accepting his ransom, &c. as the Son hath also testified his. " Inherit;" no longer bondmen, nor servants only, nor children under age, v.'ho differ not in possession, but only in title, from servants. Gal. iv. 1, 5—7 ; but now we are heirs of the kingdom, James ii. 5, coheirs with Christ. " The kingdom ;" no less than the kingdom. Indeed, to be a King of kings, and Lord of lords, is our Lord's own proper title ; but to be kings and reign with him, is ours. The fruition of this kingdom, is as the fruition of the light of the sun, each have the whole, and the rest never the less. " Prepared for you;" God is the alpha as well as the omega of our blessedness. Eternal love hath laid the foundation. He prepared the kingdom for us, and then prepared us for the kingdom. This is the preparation of his counsel and decree, for the execution whereof Christ was yet to make a further preparation. " For you;" not for believers only in general, who without individual persons are nobody; nor only for you, upon condition of your believing, but for you personally and determinately, for all the conditions were also

Chap. V. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. fy\

prepared for you. " From the foundation of the world ;" not only from the promise after Adam's fall, as some, but, as the phrase usually signifieth, though not always, from eternity. These were the eternal thoughts of God's love towards us, and this is it he purposed for us. Matt. xxv. 20, 21, 34, 35; Rev. ii.; iii.

But a greater difficulty ariseth in our way.* In what sense is our improvement of our talent, our well-doing, our overcoming, our harbouring, visiting, feeding, &c. Christ, in his little ones, alleged as a reason of our coronation and glory ? Is not it the purchased possession and mere fruit of Christ's blood.' If everyinan nuist be judged according to his works, and receive according to what they have done in the flesh, whether good or evil ; and God " will render to every man according to his deeds," Rom. ii. 6, 7, and give eternal life to all men, if they patiently continue in welldoing, and give right to the tree of life. Rev. xxii. 14, and entrance into the city, to the doers of his commandments; and if this last absolving sentence be the completing of our justification, and so " the doers of the law be justified," Rom. ii. 13; why, then, what is become of free grace, or justification by faith only, of the sole righteousness of Christ to make us accepted ? Then, the papists say rightly. That we are righteous by our personal righteousness; and good works concur to justification.

An.siv. I did not think to have said so much upon controversy; but because the difficulty is very great, and the matter very weighty, as being near the foundation, I have in another book added to what is said before, certain brief positions, containing my thoughts on this subject; which may tend to the clearing of these and many other difliculties hereabouts, to which I refer you.

But that the plain, constant language of Scripture may not be perverted or disregarded, I only premise these advertisements by way of caution, till thou come to read the fuller answer.

1. Let not the names of men draw thee one way or other, nor make thee partial in searching for truth : dislike the men for their unsound doctrine ; but call not doctrine unsound, because it is theirs ; nor sound, because of the repute of the writer.

2. Know this, that as an unhumbled soul is far apter to give too much to duty and personal righteousness, than to Christ; so a humble, self-denying Christian is as likely to err on the other hand, in giving less to duty than Christ hath given, and laying all the work from himself on Christ, for fear of robbing Christ of the honour ; and so much to look at Christ without him, and think he should look at nothing in himself, that he forgets Christ within him. As Luther said of Melancthon's self-denying humility. Soli Deo omnia deheri tarn obstinate assent, lit mihi plane ricleatur saltern in hoc errare, quod Christian ipsejingat lo?t(/iiis ahesse cordi suo quam sit revera — Certe nimis nullus in hoc est Philippiis. He so constantly ascribes all to God, that to me he seems directly to err, at least in this, that he feigneth or imagineth Christ to be

* See what is after cited in cap. vii. sect. 2. E 2

further off from his own heart than indeed he is. Certainly he is too much nothing in this.

3. Our giving to Christ more of the work than Scripture doth, or rather our ascribing it to him out of the Scripture way and sense, doth but dishonour, and not honour him ; and depress, but not exalt his free grace : while we deny the inward, sanctifying work of his Spirit, and extol his free justification, which are equal fruits of his merit, we make him an imperfect Saviour.

4. But to arrogate to ourselves any part of Christ's prerogative, is most desperate of all, and no doctrine more directly overthrows the gospel, almost, than that of justification by the merits of our own, or by works of the law.

And thus we have, by the line and plummet of Scripture, fathomed this fourfold stream, and seen the Christian safely landed in paradise ; and, in this four-wheeled fiery chariot, conveyed honourably to his rest. Now, let us a little further view those mansions, consider his privileges, and see whether there be any glory like unto this glory; read and judge, but not by outward appearance, but judge righteous judgment.

CHAPTER VI.

THIS REST MOST EXCELLENT, DISCOVERED BY REASON.

The next thing to be handled is, the excellent properties of this rest, and admirable attributes, which, as so many jewels, shall adorn the crown of the saints. And first, before we speak of them particularly, let us try this happiness by the rules of the philosophers, and see whether they will not approve it the most transcend-ently good : not as if they were a sufficient touchstone, but that both the worldling and the saint may see, when any thing stands up in competition with this glory for the pre-eminence, reason itself will conclude against it. Now, in order of good, the philosopher will tell you, that by these rules you may know which is best.

Sect. I. 1. That which is desired and sought for itself, is better than that which is desired for something else ; or the end, as such, is better than all the means. This concludeth for heaven's preeminence. All things are but means to that end. If any thing here be excellent, it is because it is a step to that; and the more conducible thereto, the more excellent. The salvation of our souls is the end of our faith, our hope, our diligence, of all mercies, of all ordinances, as before is proved. It is not for themselves, but for this rest, that all these are desired and used, 1 Pet. v. 9; 1 Thess. V. 8; 2 Tim. ii. 10. Praying is not the end of praying, nor preaching the end of preaching, nor believing the end of believing. These are but the way to him, who is the way to this rest. Indeed, Christ himself is both the way and the rest, the means

and the end, singularly desirable as the way, but yet more as the end, John xiv. G. If any tiling that ever you saw or enjoyed, appear lovely and desirable, then must its end be so nmch more.

Sect. II. 2. In order of good, the last is still the best; for all good tends to perfection. The end is still the last enjoyed, though first intended. Now, this rest is the saints' last estate. Their beginning was as a grain of mustard-seed, but their perfection will be an estate high and flourishing. They were taken with David from the sheep-fold, to reign as kings for ever. Their first day was a day of small things, but their last will be an everlasting perfection. They sowed in tears, but they reap in joy. If their prosperity here, their res secunda, were desirable, much more their res ultutne, their final blessedness, Psal. cxxvi. 5. Rondeletius saw a priest at Rome, who would fall down in an ecstasy whenever he heard those words of Christ, Consummaitun est, " It is finished ;" but observing him careful in his fall ever to lay his head in a soft place, he, suspecting the dissimulation, by the threats of a cudgel quicldy recovered him. But, methinks, the forethought of that consummation and last estate we spake of, should bring a considering Christian into such an unfeigned ecstasy, that he should even forget the things of the flesh, and no care or fear should raise him out of it. Surely that is well which ends well, and that is good which is good at last; and, therefore, heaven must needs be good.

Sect. III. 3. Another rule is this: That whose absence or loss is the worst or the greatest evil, must needs itself be best, or the greatest good: and is there a greater loss than to lose this rest ? If you could ask the restless souls that are shut out of it, they would tell you more sensibly than I can ; for as none know the sweetness like those who enjoy it, so none know the loss like those who are deprived of it. Wicked men are here senseless of the loss, because they know not what they lose, and have the delights of flesh and sense to make them up, and make them forget it : but when they shall know it to their torment, as the saints do to their joy; and when they shall see men, from the east and west, sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of God, and themselves shut out, Luke xiii. 29 ; when they shall know both what they have lost, and for what, and why they lost it, surely there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. He that loses riches may have more, and he that loseth honour may repair it; or if not, yet he is not undone. He that loseth life may save it; but what becomes of him that loseth God; and who, or what, shall repair his loss I Mark viii. 35. "NVe can bear the loss of any thing below: if we have it not, we can either live without it, or die, and live eternally without it: but can we do so without God in Christ ? INIatt. vi. 33. As God gives us outward things as auctaries, as overplus, or above measure, into our bargain, so when he takes them from us, he takes away our superfluities, rather than our necessaries, and pareth but our nails, and toucheth not the quick. But can we so spare our part in glory ? You know whose question

it is, " What shall it profit a man to win all the world, and lose his own soul?" Will it prove a saving match? Or, " What shall a man give for the ransom of his soul ?" Matt. xvi. 2G. Christians, compare but all your losses with that loss, and all your sufferings with that suffering; and I hope you will lay your hand upon your mouth, and cease your repining thoughts for ever.

Sect. IV. 4. Another rule is this : That which cannot be given by man, or taken away by man, is ever better than that which can ; and then I hope heaven will carry it; for, who hath the key of the everlasting treasures, and who is the disposer of the dignities of the saints ? Who saith, " Come, ye blessed, and go, ye cursed?" Is it the voice of God, or of mere man? If " every good and perfect gift cometh from above, from the Father of lights," James i. 17, whence, then, cometh the gift of eternal light with the Father ? Whose privilege soever it is to be key-keepers of the visible churches here below ; sure no mere man, but the man of sin, will challenge the keys of that kingdom, and undertake to shut out, or take in, or to dispose of that treasure of the church. We may be beholden to men, as God's instruments, for our faith, but no further; for " who is Paul, or who is Apollos, but ministers by whom we believed, even as the ,Lord gave to every man ?" 1 Cor. iii. 4. Surely every step to that glory, every gracious gift and act, every deliverance and mercy to the church, shall be so clearly from God, that his very name shall be written in the forehead of it, and his excellent attributes stamped upon it, that he who runs may read it was the work of God; and the question may easily be answered, whether it be from heaven or of men; much more evidently that glory is the gift of the God of glory. What! can man give God, or earth and dust give heaven ? Surely no: and as much is it beyond them to deprive us of it. Tyrants and persecutors may take away our goods, but not our chief good ; our liberties here, but not that state of freedom ; our heads, but not our crown. You can shut us up in prisons, and shut us out of your church and kingdom, but shut us out of heaven if you can. Try in lower attempts. Can you deny us the light of the sun, and cause it to forbear its shining ? Can you stop the influences of the planets, or deny us the dew of heaven, or command the clouds to shut up their womb, or stay the course of the flowing streams, or seal up the passages of the deep ? How much less can you deprive us of our God, or deny us the light of his countenance, or stop the influences of his Spirit, or forbid the dew of his grace to fall, or stay the streams of his love, and shut up his overflowing, everflow-ing springs, or seal up the bottomless depth of his bounty ? You can kill our bodies, it he permit you; but try whether you can reach our souls. Nay, it is not in the saints' own power to give to, or take away from, themselves this glory: so that, according to this rule, there is no state like the saints' rest; for no man can give this rest to us, and none can take our joy from us, John xvi. 22.

Sect. V. 5. Another rule is this : That is ever better or best, which maketh the owner or possessor himself better or best. And

sure, according to this rule, there is no state like heaven. Riches, honour, and pleasure, make a man neither better nor best: grace here makes us better, but not best: that is reserved as the prerogative of glory. That is our good that doth us good, and that doth us good which makes us good ; else it may be good in itself, but not good to us. External good is at too great a distance to be our happiness. It is not bread on our tables, but in our stomachs, tliat must nourish ; nor blood on our clothes or skin, but in the liver, heart, and veins, which is our life. Nay, the things of the world are so far from making the owners good, that they prove not the least impediments thereto, and snares to the best of men. Riches and honour do seldom help to humility ; but of pride they occasionally become most frequent fomenters. The difficulty is so great of conjoining graciousness with greatness, that it is next to an impossibility ; and their conjunctions so rare, that they are next to inconsistent. To have a heart taken up with Christ and heaven, when we have health and abundance in the world, is neither easy nor ordinary. Though soul and body compose but one man, yet they seldom prosper both together. Therefore, that is our chief good which will do us good at the heart; and that is our true glory w'hich makes us all glorious within ; and that the blessed day which will make us holy and blessed men ; which will not only beautify our house, but cleanse our hearts; not only give us new habitations, and new relations, but also new souls and new bodies. The true knowing, living Christian complains more frequently and more bitterly of the wants and woes within him, than without him. If you overhear his prayers, or see him in his tears, and ask him what aileth him, he will cry out more, Oh ! my dark understanding ! oh ! my hard, my unbelieving heart! rather than. Oh ! my dishonour ! or, Oh ! my poverty ! Therefore it is his desired place and state, which affords a relief suitable to his necessities and complaints. And surely that is only this rest.

Sect. VI. G. Another rule is, that the difficulty of obtaining shows the excellency : and, surely, if you consider but what it cost Christ to purchase it; what it costs the Spirit to bring men's hearts to it; what it costs ministers to persuade to it; what it costs Christians, after all this, to obtain it; and what it costs many a half Christian, that, after all, goes without it; you will say, that here is difficulty, and therefore excellency. Trifles may be had at a trivial rate, and men may have damnation far more easily. It is but lie still, and sleep out our days in careless laziness. It is but take our pleasure, and mind the world, and cast away the thoughts of sin, and grace, and Christ,, and heaven, and hell, out of our minds ; and do as the most do, and never trouble ourselves about these high things, but venture our souls upon our presumptuous conceits and hopes, and let the vessel swim which way it will; and then stream, and wind, and tide, will all help us apace to the gulf of perdition. You may burn a hundred houses easier than build one; and kill a thousand men, than make one alive. The descent is easy, the ascent not so. To bring diseases is but to cherish sloth.

please the appetite, and take what most delights us; but to cure them, will cost bitter pills, loathsome potions, tedious gripings, abstemious, accurate living ; and perhaps all fall short too. He that made the way, and knows the way better than we, hath told us " it is narrow and strait," and requires striving; and they that have placed it more truly and observantly than we, do tell us it lies through many tribulations, and is with much ado passed through. Conclude, then, it is sure somewhat worth that must cost all this.

Sect. VII. 7. Another rule is this : That is best, which not only supplieth necessity, but aiFordeth abundance. I3y necessity is meant here, that which we cannot live without; and by abundance is meant a more perfect supply, a comfortable, not a useless abundance. Indeed, it is suitable to a Christian state and use, to be scanted here, and to have only from hand to mouth; and that, not only in his corporeal, but in his spiritual comforts. Here we must not be filled full, that so our emptiness may cause hungering, and our hungering cause seeking and craving, and our craving testify our dependence, and occasion receiving, and our receiving occasion thanks returning, and all advance the glory of the Giver. But when we shall be brought to the well-head, and united close to the ovei-flowing fountain, we shall then thirst no more, because we shall be empty no more. Surely if those blessed souls did not abound in their blessedness, they would never so abound in praises. Such blessing, and honour, and glory, and praise to God, would never accompany common mercies. All those allelujahs are not, sure, the language of needy men. Now, we are poor, we speak supplications, and our beggar's tone discovers our low condition; all our language almost is complaining and craving, our breath sighing, and our life a labouring, Prov. xviii. 23. But, sure, where all this is turned into eternal praising and rejoicing, the case must needs be altered, and all wants supplied and forgotten. I think their hearts full of joy, and their mouths full of thanks, proves their state abounding full of blessedness.

Sect. VIII. 8. "Reason concludes that for the best, which is so in the judgment of the best and wisest men. Though it is true the judgment of imperfect man can be no perfect rule of truth or goodness ; yet God revealeth this good to all on whom he will bestow it, and hides not from his people the end they should aim at and attain. If the holiest men are the best and wisest, then their lives tell you their judgments ; and their unwearied labour and sufferings for this rest, show you they take it for the perfection of their happiness. If men of the greatest experience be the wisest men, and they that have tried both estates, then surely it is vanity and vexation that is found below, and solid happiness and rest above. If dying men are wiser than others, who, by the world's forsaking them, and by the approach of eternity, begin to be undeceived ; then surely happiness is hereafter, and not here : for though the deluded world, in their flourishing prosperity, can bless themselves in their fool's paradise, and merrily jest at the simplicity of the

sftints, yet scarce one of many, even of the worst of them, but are ready at last to cry out with Hahiani, " Oh that I might die the death of the righteous, and my last end might be like his ! " Never take heed, therefore, what they think or say now ; for as sure as they shall die, they will one of these days think and say clean contrary. As we regard not what a drunken man says, because it is not he, but the drink, and when he hath slept he will awake in another mind; so why should we regard what wicked men say now, who are drunk with security and fleshly delights, when we know beforehand, for certain, that when they have slept the sleep of death, at the furthest, they will awake in another mind. Only pity the perverted understandings of these poor men, who are beside themselves; knowing that one of these days, when too late experience brings them to their right minds, they will be of a far different judgment. They ask us, What, are you wiser than your forefathers; than all the town besides ; than such and such great men and learned men ? And do you think, in good sadness, we may not, with better reason, ask you, What, are you wiser than Enoch and Noah; than Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Samuel; than David and Solomon; than Moses and the prophets ; than Peter, Paul, all the apostles, and all the sons of God, in all ages and nations, that ever went to heaven ; yea, than Jesus Christ himself.' JNlen may be deceived; but we appeal to the unerring judgment of wisdom itself, even the wise, all-knowing God, whether " a day in his courts be not better than a thousand elsewhere;" and whether '' it be not better to be- door-keepers there, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness?" Psal. Ixxxiv. 10. Nay, whether the very "reproaches of Christ (even the scorns we have from you, for Christ's sake and the gospel's) be not greater riches than all the treasures of the world?" Heb. xi. 25, 26. If wisdom, then, may pass the sentence, you see which way the cause will go; and " wisdom is justified of all her children," Matt. xi. 19.

Sect. IX. Lastly, another rule in reason is this : That good which containeth all other good in it, must needs itself be best. And where do you think, in reason, that all the streams of goodness do finally empty themselves ? Is it not in God, from whom, by secret springs, they finally proceed ? Where, else, do all the lines of goodness concentre ? Are not all the sparks contained in this fire ; and all the drops in this ocean ? Surely the time was when there was nothing besides God, and then all good was only in him. And even now the creature's essence and existence are secondary, derived, contingent, improper, in comparison of his, " who is, and was, and is to come;" whose name alone is called, " I am." What do thine eyes see, or thine heart conceive desirable, which is not there to be had ? Sin, indeed, there is none; but durst thou call that good ? Worldly delights there is none; for they are good but for the present necessity, and please but the brutish senses. Brethren, do you fear losing or parting with any thing you now enjoy ? What ! do you fear you shall want when you come to heaven ? Shall you want the drops when you have

the ocean; or the light of the candle, when you have the sun; or the shallow creature, when you have the perfect Creator ? " Cast thy bread upon the waters, and after many days thou shalt find it," Eccles. xi. 1. Lay abroad thy tears, thy prayers, pains, boldly and unweariedly : as God is true, thou dost but set them to usury, and shalt receive a hundredfold. Matt. xix. 29. Spare not, man, for state, for honour, for labour. If heaven do not make amends for all, God hath deceived us ; which who dare once imagine ? Cast away friends, houses, lands, life, if he bid thee : leap into the sea, as Peter, (Mark viii. 35,) if he command thee : lose thy life, and thou shalt save it everlastingly; when those that saved theirs, shall lose them everlastingly. Venture all, man, upon God's word and promise. There is a day of rest coming will fully pay for all. All the pence and the farthings thou expendest for him, are contained, with infinite advantage, in the massy gold and jewels of thy crown. When Alexander had given away his treasure, and they asked him where it was, he pointed to the poor, and said. In scriniis, In my chests. And when he went upon a hopeful expedition, he gave away his gold ; and when he was asked what he kept for himself, he answers, Spem majorum et mellorum. The hope of greater and better things. How much more boldly may we lay out all, and point to heaven, and say, it is in scriniis, in our everlasting treasure ; and take that hope of greater and better things, instead of all! Nay, lose thyself for God, and renounce thyself, and thou shalt at that day find thyself again in him. Give him thyself, and he will receive thee upon the same terms as Socrates did his scholar, yEschines ; who gave himself to his master, because he had nothing else, Accipio, sed ea lege vt te tihi meliorem reddam qiiam accept: that he may return thee to thyself better than he received thee. So, then, this rest is the good which containeth all other good in it. And thus you see, according to the rules of reason, the transcendent excellency of the saints' glory in the general. We shall next mention the particular excellences.

CHAPTER VII.

THE EXCELLENCES OF OUR REST.

Yet let us draw a little nearer, and see more immediately from the pure fountain of the Scriptures, what further excellences this rest afFordeth. And the Lord hide us in the clefts of the rock, and cover us with the hands of indulgent grace, while we approach to take this view. And the Lord grant we may put off from our feet the shoes of irreverence and fleshly conceivings, while we stand upon this holy ground.

1. It is the fruit of "^^ct. I. And first, it is a most singular honour the love and blood and Ornament, in the style of the saints' rest, to be

called the purchased possession ; that it is the fruit of Christ, whom we of the blood of the Son of God; yea, the dhief fruit; shall there also be-yea, the end and perfection of all the fruits and efficacy '" '^" *'"J"^-of that blood. Surely love is the most precious ingredient in the whole composition ; and of all the flowers that grow in the garden of love, can there be brought one more sweet and beautiful to the garland, than this blood .' Greater love than this there is not; to lay down the life of the lover, John xv. 13. And to have this our Redeemer ever before our eyes, and the liveliest sense and freshest remembrance of that dying, bleeding love still upon our souls ! Oh, how will it fill our souls with perpetual ravishments, to think, that in the streams of this blood we have swam through the violence of the world, the snares of Satan, the seducements of the flesh, the curse of the law, the wrath of an ofiended God, the accusations of a guilty conscience, and the vexing doubts and fears of an unbelieving heart, and are passed through all, and are arrived safely at the breast of God! Now we are stupified with vile and senseless hearts, that can hear all the story of this bloody love, and read all the dolours and sulferings of love, and hear all his sad complaints, and all with dulness, and unaftectcd. He cries to us, " Behold and see ; is it nothing to you, O all ye that pass by ? Is there any sorrow like unto my sorrow .^" Lam. i. 12, And we will scarce hear or regard the dolorous voice, nor scarce turn aside to view the wounds of him, who turned aside and took us up to heal our wounds at this so dear a rate. But, oh ! then our perfected souls will feel as well as hear, and, witli feeling apprehensions, flame again in love for love. Now we set his picture, wounded and dying, before our eyes, but can get it no nearer our hearts than if we believed nothing of what we read ; but thexi, when the obstructions between the eye and the understanding are taken away, and the passage opened between the head and the heart, surely our eyes will everlastingly aflect our heart. And while we view, with one eye, our slain, revived Lord, and with the other eye, our lost, recovered souls, and transcendent glory, these views will eternally pierce us, and warm our very souls. And those eyes, through which folly and lust have so often stolen into our hearts, shall now be the casements to let in the love of our dearest Lord for ever. Now, though we should, as some do, travel to Jerusalem, and view the Mount of Olives, where he prayed and wept, and see that dolorous way by which he bare his cross, and entered the temple of the holy grave; yea, if we should, with Peter, have stooped down and seen the place where he lay, and beheld his relics ; yet these bolted doors of sin and flesh would have kept out the feeling of all that love. But, oh ! that is the joy ! We shall then leave these hearts of stone and rock behind us, and the sin that here so close besets us; and the sottish unkindness that followed us so long, shall not be able to follow us into that glory. But we shall behold, as it were, the wounds of love with eyes and hearts of love for ever. Suppose, a little to help our apprehensions, that a saint, who had partaken of the joys of heaven, hath been translated from

as long an above in hell, and after the experience of such a change, should have stood with Mary and the rest, by the cross of Christ, and have seen the blood and heard the groans of his Redeemer. What think you, would love have stirred in his breast or no ? Would the voice of his dying Lord have melted his heart or no ? Oh that I were sensible of what I speak ! With what astonishing apprehensions, then, will redeemed saints everlastingly behold their blessed Redeemer ! I will not meddle with their vain, audacious question, who must needs know, whether the glorified body of Christ do yet retain either the wounds or scars. But this is most certain, that the memory of it will be as fresh, and the impressions of love as deep, and its working as strong, as if his wounds were still in our eyes, and his complaints still in our ears, and his blood still streaming afresh. Now his heart is open to us, and ours shut to him: but when his heart shall be open, and our hearts open, oh the blessed congress that there will then be ! What a passionate meeting was there between our new-risen Lord and the first sinful, silly woman that he appears to ! How cloth love struggle for expressions, and the straitened fire, shut up in the breast, strive to break forth! John XX. 16 ; Matt, xxviii. 9. " Mary ! " saith Christ: " Master !" saith Mary ; and presently she clasps about his feet, having her heart as near to his heart as her hands were to his feet. What a meeting of love, then, will there be, between the new-glorified saint and the glorious Redeemer ! But I am here at a loss, my apprehensions fail me, and fall too short; only this I know, it will be the singular praise of our inheritance, that it was bought with the price of that blood; and the singular joy of the saints, to behold the purchaser and the price together with the possession. Neither will the views of the wounds of love renew our wounds of sorrow ; he whose first words, after his resurrection, were to a great sinner, "Woman, why weepest thou?" John xx. 13, knows how to raise love and joy by all those views, without raising any cloud of sorrow or storm of teai's at all, 2 Sam. xxiii. 16, 17, He that made the sacramental commemoration of his death to be his church's feast, will sure make the real enjoyment of its blessed purchase to be marrow and fatness. And if it afforded joy to hear from his mouth, " This is my body which is given for you," and " This is my blood which was shed for you ;" what joy will it afford to hear, " This glory is the fruit of my body and my blood !" And what a merry feast will it be, when we shall drink of the fruit of the vine new with him in the kingdom of his Father, as the fruit of his own blood ! David would not drink of the waters which he longed for, because they were the blood of those men who jeoparded their lives for them, and thought them fitter to offer to God, than to please him. But we shall value these waters more highly, and yet drink them the more sweetly, because they are the blood of Christ, not jeoparded only, but shed for them. They will be the more sweet and dear to us, because they were so bitter and dear to him. If the buyer be judicious, we estimate things by the price they cost. If any thing we enjoy were purchased with the life of our

CiiAi'. VII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. Gl

clearest friend, how highly should we value it ! nay, if a dying fricMul deliver but a token of his love, how carefully do we preserve it, and still remember him when we behold it, as if his own name were written on it! And will not then the death and blood of our Lord everlastingly sweeten our possessed glory? Methinks they should value the plenty of the gospel, with their peace and freedom, at a higher rate, who may remember what it hath cost; how nmch precious blood; how many of the lives of God's worthies and witnesses, besides all other costs ! Methinks, when I am preaching, or hearing, or reading, I see them as before mine eyes, whose blood was shed to seal the truth, and look the more respectively on them yet living, who suffered to assert it. Oh, then, when we are rejoicing in glory, how shall we think of the blood that revived our souls, and how shall we look upon him whose sufferings did put that joy into our heart! How carefully preserve we those prizes which with greatest hazard we gained from the enemy ! Goliath's sword must be kept as a trophy, and laid up behind the ephod: and in a time of need, David says, " There is none to that," I Sam. xxi. 9. Surely, when we do divide the spoil, and partake of the prize which our Lord so dearly won, we shall say indeed, " '^I'here is none like that." How dear was Jonathan's love to David, which was testified by stripping himself of the robe that was upon him, and giving it to David, and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle; and also by saving him from his father's wrath ! How dear for ever will the love of Christ be then to us, who stripped himself, as it were, of his majesty and glory, and put our mean garment of flesh upon him, that he might put the robes of his own righteousness and glory upon us ; and saved us, not from cruel injustice, but from his Father's deserved wrath ! Well then. Christians, as you use to do in your books, and on your goods, to write down the price they cost; so do you on your righteousness and on your glory, write down the price, " The precious blood of Christ."

Yet understand this rightly : not that this highest glory was in strictest proper sense purchased, so as that it was the most immediate effect of Christ's death. We must take heed that we conceive not of God as a tyrant, who so delighteth in cruelty, as to exchange mercies for stripes, or to give a crown on condition he may torment men. God was never so pleased with the sufferings of the innocent, much less of his Son, as to sell his mercy properly for their sufferings; fury dwelleth not in him, nor doth he willingly correct the sons of men, nor take pleasure in the death of him that dieth. But the sufferings of Christ were primarily and immediately to satisfy justice that required blood, and to bear what was due to the sinner, and to receive the blow that should have fallen upon him, and so to restore him to the life he lost, and the happiness he fell from ; but this dignity, which surpasseth the first, is, as it were, from the redundancy of his merit, or a secondary fruit of his death. The work of his redemption so well pleased the Father, that he gave him power to advance his chosen to a higher dignity than they

fell from, and to give them the glory which was given to himself; and all this according to his counsel, and the good pleasure of his own will.

Sect. II. The second pearl in the saints' diadem, It ,s freely given us. j^^ ^^^^^ .^. -^ ^^.^^^ rj,^-^ seemeth, as Pharaoh's

second kine, to devour the former ; and, as the angel to Balaam, to meet it with a drawn sword of a full opposition. But the seeming discord is but a pleasing diversity, composed into that harmony which constitutes the melody. These two attributes, purchased and free, are the two chains of gold, which by their pleasant twisting, do make up the wreath for the heads of the pillars in the temple of God, 1 Kings vii. 17, It was dear to Christ, but free to us. When Christ was to buy, silver and gold were nothing worth, prayers and tears could not suffice, nor any thing below his blood ; but when we come to buy, the price is fallen to just nothing: our buying is but receiving, we have it freely, without money, and without price. Nor do the gospel conditions make it the less free, or the covenant tenor before mentioned contradict any of this. If the gospel conditions had been such as are the laws, or payment of the debt required at our hands, the freeness then were more questionable : yea, if God had said to us. Sinners, if you will satisfy my justice but for one of your sins, I will forgive you all the rest; it would have been a hard condition on our part, and the grace of the covenant not so free, as our disability doth necessarily require. But if all the condition be our cordial acceptation, surely we deserve not the name of purchasers: thankful accepting of a free acquittance is no paying of the debt. If life be offered to a condemned man, upon condition that he shall not refuse the offer, I think the favour is nevertheless free ; nay, though the condition were, that he should beg and wait before he have his pardon, and take him for his Lord who hath thus redeemed him : and this is no satisfying of the justice of the law; especially when the condition is also given, as it is by God to all his chosen. Surely, then, here is all free. If the Father freely forgive the Son, and the Son freely pay the debt; and if God do freely accept that way of payment, when he might have required it of the principal; and if both Father and Son do freely offer us the purchased life upon those fair conditions, and if they also freely send the Spirit to enable us to perform those conditions; then what is here that is not free ? Is not every stone that builds this temple free stone ? Oh the everlasting admiration that must needs surprise the saints to think of this freeness ! What did the Lord see in me that he should judge me meet for such a state ? That I, who was but a poor, diseased, despised wretch, should be clad in the brightness of this glory ! That I, a silly, creeping, breathing worm, should be advanced to this high dignity ! That I, who was but lately groaning, weeping, dying, should now be as full of joy as my heart can hold; yea, should be taken from the grave, where I was rotting and stinking, and from the dust and darkness, where I seemed forgotten, and here set before his throne ! That I should

Chap. VII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G3

be taken with Mortlecai from captivity, to be set next unto the king ; and with Daniel from the den, to be made ruler of princes and provinces; and with Saul from seeking asses, to be advanced to a kingdom ! Oh who can fathom unmeasurable love ? Indeed, if the proud-hearted, self-ignorant, self-admiring sinners should be thus advanced, who think none so fit for preferment as themselves, perhaps instead of admiring free love, they would, with those unhappy angels, be discontented yet with their estate. But when the self-denying, self-accusing, humble soul, who thought himself unworthy the ground he trod on, and the air he breathed in, unworthy to eat, drink, or live, when he shall be taken up into this glory; he who durst scarce come among or speak to the imperfect saints on earth, because he was unworthy; he who durst scarce hear, or scarce read the Scripture, or scarce pray and call God Father, or scarce receive the sacraments of his covenant, and all because he was unworthy; for this soul to find itself rapt up into heaven, and closed in the arms of Christ even in a moment! do but think with yourselves, what the transporting, astonishing admiration of such a soul will be ! He that durst not lift up his eyes to heaven, but stood afar oif, smiting on his breast, and crying, " Lord, be merciful to me a sinner ;" now to be lift up to heaven himself! He who was wont to write his name in Bradford's style, " The unthankful, the hard-hearted, the unworthy sinner," and wa"s wont to admire that patience could bear so long, and justice suffer him to live ; sure he will admire at this alteration, when he shall find by experience, that unworthiness could not hinder his salvation, which he thought would have bereaved him of every mercy ! Ah, Christian, there is no talk of our worthiness or unworthiness ; if worthiness were our condition for admittance, W'e might sit down with St: John and weep, " because none in heaven or earth is found worthy ; but the Lion of the tribe of Judah is worthy and hath prevailed:" and by that title must we hold the inheritance: we shall offer there the offering that David refused, even praise for that which cost us nothing. Here our commission runs, " Freely ye have received, freely give :" but Christ hath dearly received, yet freely gives. The Master heals us of our leprosy freely ; but Gehazi, who had no finger in the cure, wdll surely run after us, and take something of us, and falsely pretend, it is his Master's pleasure. The pope, and his servants, will be paid for their pardons and indulgences, but Christ will take nothing for his. The fees of their prelates' courts are large, and commutation of penance must cost men's purses dear, or else they must be cast out of the synagogue, and soul and body delivered up to the devil: but none are shut out of that church for want of money, nor is poverty any eyesore to Christ. An empty heart may bar them out, but an empty purse cannot: his kingdom of grace hath ever been more consistent with despised poverty than wealth and honour; and riches occasion the difficulty of entrance far more than want can do, " for that which is highly esteemed among men, is despised with God:" and so it is, also, " the poor of the world, rich in faith, whom God hath chosen to be heirs of that

kingdom, which he hath prepared for them that love him." I know the true " labourer is worthy of his hire ;" and, " they that serve at the altar, should live upon the altar;" and, " it is not fit to muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn," James ii. 5; 1 Cor. vi. 4—13: and I know, it is either hellish malice, or penurious baseness, or ignorance of the weight of their work and burden, that makes their maintenance so generally incompetent, and their very livelihood and subsistence so envied and grudged at; and that it is a mere plot of the prince of darkness, for the diversion of their thoughts, that they must be studying how to get bread for their own and children's mouths, when they should be preparing the bread of life for their people's souls : but yet let me desire the right-aiming ministers of Christ, to consider what is expedient as well as what is lawful, and that the saving of one soul is better than a thousand pounds a year, and our gain, though due, is a cursed gain, which is a stumbling-block to our people's souls : let us make the free gospel as little burdensome and chargeable as is possible. I had rather never take their tithes while I live, than by them to destroy the souls for whom Christ died, 1 Cor. ix. 18, 19 ; and though God hath ordained, that" they which preach the gospel should live of the gospel," yet I had rather suiFer all things than hinder the gospel, Rom. xiv. 13, 15, 20, 21 ; and it were better for me to die than that any man should make this my glorying void, Rom. xv. 1, 2; 1 Cor. ix. 12—15. Though the well-leading elders be w^orthy of double honour, especially the laborious in the word and doctrine, yet if the necessity of souls and the promoting of the gospel should require it, 1 had rather preach the gospel in hunger and rags, than rigidly contend for what is my due ; and if I should do so, yet have I not whereof to glory, for necessity is laid upon me; yea, woe be to me if I preach not the gospel, though I never received any thing from men, 1 Tim. v. 17 ; 1 Cor. iv. 10—12; ix. 16. How unbeseeming the messengers of his free grace and kingdom is it, rather to lose the hearts and souls of their people, than to lose a groat of their due ; and rather to exasperate them against • the message of God, than to forbear somewhat of their right ; and to contend with them at law for the wages of the gospel, and to make the glad tidings to their yet carnal hearts seem to be sad tidings because of this burden ! This is not the way of Christ and his apostles, nor according to the self-denying, yielding, suffering doctrine which they taught. Away with all those actions that are against the main end of our studies and calling, which is to win souls; and woe be upon that gain which hinders the gaining of men to Christ! I know, flesh will here object necessities, and distrust will not want arguments; but we who have enough to answer to the diffidence of our people, let us take home some of our answers to ourselves, and teach ourselves first before we teach them. How many have you known that God suffered to starve in his vineyard ! But this is our exceeding consolation, that though we may pay for our Bibles, and books, and sermons, and, it may be, pay for our freedom too, to enjoy and use them; yet as we paid nothing for

Chap. YII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G.5

God's eternal love, and nothing for the Son of his love, and nothing for his Spirit, and our grace and faith, and nothing for our pardon, so shall we pay nothing for our eternal rest. We may pay for the hread and wine, hut we shall not pay for the hody and hlood, nor for the great things of the covenant which it seals unto us ; and, indeed, we have a valuahle price to give for those, hut for these we have none at all: yet this is not all: if it were only for nothing, and without our merit, the wonder were great; hut it is, moreover, against our merit, and against our long endeavouring of our own ruin. Oh, the hroken heart that hath known the desert of sin, doth both understand and feel what I say! What an astonishing thought it will be to think of the unmeasurable difference between our descrvings and our receivings ; between the state we should have been in, and the state we are in; to look down upon hell, and sec the vast difference that free grace hath made betwixt us and them ; to see the inheritance there, which we were born to, so different from that which we are adopted to ! Oh what pangs of love will it cause within us, to think, Yonder was my native right, my deserved portion; those should have been my hideous cries, my doleful groans, my easeless pains, my endless torment ; those unquenchable flames I should have lain in ; that never-dying worm should have fed upon me; yonder was the place that sin would have brought me to, but this is it that Christ hath brought me to ; yonder death was the wages of my sin, but this eternal life is the gift of God through Jesus Christ my Lord. Did not I neglect grace, and make light of the offers of life, and slight my Redeemer's blood, a long time, as well as yonder suffering .souls !* Did I not let pass my time, and forget my God and soul, as well as they; and was not I born in sin and wrath as well as they I O, who made me to differ ? Was my heart naturally any readier for Christ than theirs, or any whit better affected to the Spirit's persuasions ? Should I ever have begun to love, if God had not begun to me ; or ever be willing, if he had not made me willing ; or ever differed, if he had not made me to differ ? Had I not now been in those flames, if I had had mine own way, and been let alone to mine own will ? Did I not resist as powerful means, and lose as fair advantages, as they? And should I not have lingered in Sodom till the flames had seized on me, if God had not in mercy carried me out .'' Oh how free was all this love ; and how free is this enjoyed glory ! Doubtless this will be our everlasting admiration, that so rich a crown should fit the head of so vile a sinner ; that such high advancement, and such long unfruitfulness and unkindness, can be the state of the same persons ; and that such vile rebellions can conclude in such most precious joys. But no thanks to us, nor to any of our duties and labours, much less to our neglects and laziness : we know to whom the praise is due, and must be given for ever; and, indeed, to this very end it was, that infinite wisdom did cast the whole design of man's salvation into the mould of pur5:hase and freeness,* that the love and joy of man

* It is a fond conceit of the Antinoinians, to think that justification and salvation F

might be perfected, and the honour of grace most highly advanced, that the thought of merit might neither cloud the one nor obstruct the other, and that on these two hinges the gates of heaven might turn. So then, let '"' Deserved" be written on the door of hell, but on the door of heaven and life, " The free gift." 3. Itisihe saints' Sect. III. Thirdly, The third comfortable at-possession. tribute of this rest is, that it is the saints' proper and peculiar possession. It belongs to no other of all the sons of men; not that it would have detracted from the greatness or free-ness of the gift, if God had so pleased, that all the world should have enjoyed it: but when God had resolved otherwise, that it must be enjoyed but by few, to find our names among that number must needs make us the more to value our enjoyment. If all Egypt had been light, the Israelites should not have had the less; but yet to enjoy that light alone, while their neighbours live in thick darkness, must make them more sensible of their privilege. Distinguishing, separating mercy aifecteth more than any mercy. If it should rain on our grounds alone, or the sun shine alone upon our habitations, or the blessing of heaven divide between our flocks and other men's, as between Jacob's and Laban's, we should more feelingly acknowledge mercy than now, while we possess the same in common. Ordinariness dulleth our sense ; and if miracles were common, they would be slighted. If Pharaoh had passed as safely as Israel, the Red Sea would have been less remembered; if the first-born of Egypt had not been slain, the first-born of Israel had not been the Lord's peculiar ; if the rest of the world had not been drowned, and the rest of Sodom and Gomorrah burned, the saving of Noah had been no wonder, nor Lot's deliverance so much talked of. The lower the weighty end of the balance descends, the higher is the other lifted up; and the falling of one of the sails of the windmill is the occasion of the rising of the other. It would be no extenuation of the mercies of the saints here, if all the world were as holy as they; and the communication of their happiness is their greatest desire ; yet it might perhaps dull their thankfulness, and differencing grace would not be known. But when one should ])e enlightened, and another left in darkness ; one reformed, and another by his lusts enslaved; it makes them cry out, with the disciples, " Lord, how is it that thou wilt reyeal thyself to us, and not unto the world?" John xiv. 22. When the prophet shall be sent to one widow only of all that were in Samaria, and to cleanse one Naaman of all the lepers, the mercy is more observable, Luke iv. 24—27. Oh ! that will surely be a day of passionate sense on both sides, when two shall be in a bed, and two in the field, the one taken, and the other forsaken. Eor a Christian, who is conscious of his own undeserving and ill-deserving, to see his companion in sin perish, his neighbour, kinsman, father, mother, wife,

ave not free, if given on condition ; as long as the condition is but acceptance, and the frueness excludeth all our merit of satisfaction. The like may be said of the condition-ality of sincere evangelical obedience to the continuance ancV,consummation of our justification, and to our salvation.

CriAi'. VI1. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G7

child, for ever in hell, vvhile lio is preferred among the hlessed; to see other men's sins eternally plagued, while his are all pardoned ; to see those that were wont to sit with us in the same seat, and eat with us at the tahle, and join wilh us in the same duties, now to lie tornirnted in those flames, while we are triumphing in divine praises; that Lot must leave his sons-in-law in the flames of Sodom, and the wife of his l)OSom- as a monument of Divine vengeance, and escape with his two daughters alone ; h'^re is choosing, distinguishing mercy ! Therefore, the Scripture seems to affirm, that as the damned souls shall, from hell, see the saints' liappiness, to increase their own torments, so shall the hlessed, from heaven, hehold the wicked's misery to the increase of their own joy : and as they looked on the dead bodies of Christ's two witnesses, slain in their streets, and they that dwelt on the earth rejoiced over them and made merry, Rev. xi. 10, and as the wicked here hehold the calamities of God's people with gladness; so shall the saints look down upon them in the burning lake, and in the sense of their own happiness, and in the approbation of God's just proceedings, they shall rejoice and sing, " Thou art righteous, O Lord, which art, and wast, and shalt be, because thou hast thus judged; for they have shed the blood of saints and prophets, and thou hast given them blood to drink, for they are worthy. Allelujah, salvation, and glory, and honour, and power to our God ; for true and righteous are his judgments," Rev. xvi. 5, G. And as the command is over Babylon, so will it be over all the condemned souls, " Rejoice over her, thou heaven, and ye holy apostles and prophets ; for God hath avenged you on her," Rev. xviii. 20; xix. 7, 8. By this time the impenitent Avorld will see a reason for the saints' singularity while they were on earth, and will be able to answer their own demands, Why must you be more holy than your neighbours? even because they would fain be more happy than their neighbours : and why cannot you do as others, and live as the world about you .'' even because they are full loth to speed as those others, or to be damned with the world about them. Sincere singularity in holiness is, by this time, known to be neither hypocrisy nor folly. If to be singular in that glory be so desirable, surely to be singular in godly living is not contemptible. As every one of them now knows his own sore, and his own grief, so shall every one of them feel his own joy : and if they can now call Christ their own, and call God their own God, how much more then upon their full possession of him ! for as he takes his people for his inheritance, so will he himself be the inheritance of his people for ever, 2 Chron. vi. 29; Psal. xvi. 5 \ xxxiii. 12; Ixvii. 6; Ixxviii. 71.

Sect. IV. A fourth comfortable adjunct of this 4 j, j, a rest with rest is, that it is the fellowship of the blessed angels ami perfect saints and angels of God. Not so singular will *^'"'^-the Christian be, as to be solitary. Though it be proper to the saints only, yet is it common to all the saints; for what is it but an association of blessed spirits in God ; a corporation of perfected

F 2

saints, whereof Christ is the Head; the communion of saints completed ? Nor doth this make those joys to he therefore mediate, derived by creatures to us, as here ; for all the lines may be drawn from the centre, and not from each other, and yet their collocation make them more comely than one alone could be. Though the strings receive not their sound and sweetness from each other, yet their concurrence causeth that harmony which could not be by one alone. For those that have prayed, and fasted, and wept, and watched, and waited together, now to joy, and enjoy, and praise together, niethinks should much advance their pleasure. Whatsoever it will be upon the great change that will be in our natures perfected, sure I am, according to the present temperature of the most sanctified human aifections, it would aiFect exceedingly : and he who mentioneth the qualifications of our happiness, of purpose that our joy may be full, and maketh so oft mention of our consociation and conjunction in his praises, sure doth hereby intimate to us, that this will be some advantage to our joys. Certain I am of this, fellow Christians, that as we have been together in the labour, duty, danger, and distress, so shall we be in the great re-compence and deliverance; and as we have been scorned and despised, so shall we be crowned and honoured together; and we who have gone through the day of sadness, shall enjoy together that day of gladness. And those who have been with us in persecution and prison, shall be with us also in that palace of consolation. Can the wilful world say. If our forefathers and friends be all in hell, we will venture there too ? And may not the Christian say on better grounds. Seeing my faithful friends are gone before me to heaven, I am much the more willing to be there too '{ Oh ! the blessed day, dear friends, when we that were wont to inquire together, and hear of heaven and talk of heaven together, shall then live in heaven together ; when we who were wont to complain to one another, and open our doubts to one another, and our fears, whether ever we should come there or no, shall then rejoice with one another, and triumph over those doubts and fears ; when we who were wont formerly, in private, to meet together for mutual edification, shall now, most publicly, be conjoined in the same consolation. Those same disciples, who were wont to meet in a private house for fear of the Jews, are now met in the celestial habitation without fear; and as their fear then did cause them to shut the door against their enemies, so will God's justice shut it now. Oh ! when I look in the faces of the precious people of God, and believingly think of this day, what a refreshing thought is it! Shall we not there remember, think you, the pikes which we passed through here; our fellowship in duty and in suiFerings ; how oft our groans made, as it were, one sound, our conjunct tears but one stream, and our conjunct desires but one prayer ? and now all our praises shall make up one melody, and all our churches one church, and all ourselves but one body; for we shall be one in Christ, even as he and the Father are one. It is true we must be very careful in this case, that, in our thoughts, we look not for that in the saints which is

alone in Christ, and that we give them not his own prerogative, nor expect too great a part of our comfort in the fruition of them : we are prone enough to this kind of idohitry. But, yet, lie who commands us so to love thom now, will give us leave, in the same subordination to hinisoir, to lov(> them then, when himself hath made them much more lovely : and if we may love them, we shall surely rejoice in them ; for love and enjoyment cannot stand without an answerable joy. If the forethought of sitting down with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, may be our lawful joy, then how nmch more that real sight and actual possession ! it cannot choose but be comfortable to me to think of that day, when I shall join with Moses in his song, with David in his psalms of praise, and with all the redeemed in the song of the Lamb for ever; when we shall see Enoch walking with God, Noah enjoying the end of his singularity, Joseph of his integrity. Job of his patience, Hezekiah of his uprightness, and all the saints the end of their faith. Will it be nothing conducible to the completing of our comforts, to live eternally with Peter, Paul, Austin, Chrysos-tom, Jerome, Wickliffe, Luther, Zuinglius, Calvin, Beza, Bullinger, Zanchius, Parasus, Piscator, Camero; with Hooper, Bradford, Latimer, Glovei*, Saunders, Philpot; with Reighnolds, Whitaker, Cartwright, Brightman, Bayne, Bradshaw, Bolton, Ball, Hilder-sham, Pemble, Twisse, Ames, Preston, Sibbs ? O felicem diem (said holy GryntBus) quiim ad illiid animanini concilium jtrojicis-car, et ex hoc tnrha colluvione discedam /" * O happy day, when I shall depart out of this crowd and sink, and go to that same council of souls ! I know that Christ is all in all; and that it is the presence of God that maketh heaven to be heaven. But, yet, it much sweeteneth the thoughts of that place to me, to remember that there are such a multitude of my most dear and precious friends in Christ; with whom I took sweet counsel, and with whom I went up to the house of God; who walked with me in the fear of God, and integrity of their hearts ; in the face of whose conversations there was written the name of Christ; whose sweet and sensible mention of his excellences hath made my heart to burn within me. To think such a friend, that died at such a time, and such a one at another time ; oh what a number of them could I name ! and that all these are entered into rest; and we shall surely go to them, but they shall not return to us. It is a question with some, whether we shall know each other in heaven or no. Surely there shall no knowledge cease which now we have, but only that which implieth our imperfection; and what imperfection can this imply? Nay, our present knowledge shall be increased beyond belief, 2 Cor. v. 16. It shall indeed be done away, but as the light of candles and stars is done away, by the rising of the sun; which is more properly a doing away of our ignorance than of our knowledge: indeed, we

* Junius -writcth in his life, of a man that so esteemed him, that he digged up a turf of the ground where he stood, and carried it home ; how, then, sliould we love the habitatfon of the saints in light! By this example you may see how worshipping of saints, relics, shrines, images, was brought in by honest zeal (misguided).

shall not know each other after the flesh ; nor by stature, voice, colour, complexion, visage, or outward shape; if we had so known Christ, we should know him no more ; nor by parts and gifts of learning, nor titles of honour and worldly dignity ; nor by terms of affinity and consanguinity, nor benefits, nor such relations ; nor by youth or age ; nor, I think, by sex: but by the image of Christ, and spiritual relation, and former faithfulness in improving our talents, beyond doubt, we shall knov/ and be known. Nor is it only our old acquaintance, but all the saints of all ages, whose faces in the flesh we never saw, whom we shall there both know and comfortably enjoy. Luther, in his last sickness, being asked his judgment, whether we shall know one another in heaven, answered thus, Quid accidit Adamo ? Nioiquam ille vklerat Evam, &c. i. e. How was it with Adam ? He had never seen Eve : yet he asked not, who she was, or whence she came ; but saith, She is flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bone. And how knew he that ? Why, being full of the Holy Ghost, and endued with the true knowledge of God, he so pronounced. After the same sort shall we be renewed by Christ in another life, and we shall know our parents, wives, children, &c. much more perfectly than Adam did then know Eve ; yea, and angels as well as saints, will be our blessed acquaintance and sweet associates. We have every one now our own angels, then beholding our Father's face; and those who now are willingly ministering spirits for our good, will willingly then be our companions in joy for the perfecting of our good; and they who had such joy in heaven for our conversion, will gladly rejoice with us in our glorification. I think. Christian, this will be a more honourable assembly than ever you have beheld ; and a more happy society than you were ever of before. Then we shall truly say, as David, " I am a companion of all them that fear thee : when we are come to Mount Sion, and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels; to the general assembly and church of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the nev/ covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling," Acts xii. 15; Matt, xviii. 10; Luke xv. 10, and xvi. 22 ; Heb. i. 7, &c. and xii. 22—24 ; Psal. cxix. 16. We are come thither already in respect of title, and of earnest and first-fruits; but we shall then come into the full possession. O beloved, if it be a happiness to live with the saints in their imperfection, when they have sin to imbitter, as vrell as holiness to sweeten, their society, what will it be to live with them in their perfection, where saints are wholly and only saints ? if it be a delight to hear them pray or preach, what will it be to hear them praise ? if we thought ourselves in the suburbs of heaven when we heard them set forth the beauty of our Lord, and speak of the excellences of his kingdom, what a day will it be when we shall join with them in praises to our Lord in and for that kingdom ! Now we have corruption, and they have corruption; and we are apter to set awork each other's corruption than our graces;

and so lose the benefit of their conipany while we do enjoy it, he-cause we know not how to make use ot" a saint : bul then it will not he so. Now we spend many an hour which might be profitable, hi a dull, silent looking on each other, or else in vain and common conference; but then it will not be so. Now the best do know but in part, and therefore can instruct and help us but in part; but then we shall, with them, make up one perfect man. So then, I conclude, this is one singular excellency of the rest of heaven, that we arc " fellow citizens with the saints, and of the household of God," Eph. ii. 19.

Sect. V. Fifthly, Another excellent property of r, ^ j^ i„„j,<,,|iate our rest will be, that the joys of it are immedi- iVom (j(,(i, and in ately from God. Nor doth this contradict the '"'"• former, as I have before made plain. Whether Christ, who is God as well as man, shall be the conveyer of all from the Divine nature to us ; and whether the giving up the kingdom to the Father do imply the ceasing of the Mediator's office ; oi whether he shall be; Mediator//v^/V/o/^/.?, as well as acqiiisitionts; are questions which I will not now attempt to handle. But this is sure : we shall see God face to face, and stand continually in his presence, and consequently derive our life and comfort immediately from him. Whether God will make use of any creatures for our service then, or, if any, of what creatures, and what use, is more than I yet know. It seems that the creature shall have a day of deliverance, and that into the glorious liberty of the sons of God, Rom. viii, 21 : but whether this before, or at the great and full deliverance; or whether to endure to eternity ; or to what particular employment they shall be continued; are questions yet too hard for me. When God speaks them plainer, and mine understanding is made clearei', then I may know these; but it is certain that at least our most and great joys will be immediate, if not all. Now, we have nothing at all immediately, but at the second, or third, or fourth, or fifth hand, or how many, who knows .'' From the earth, from man, from sun and moon, from the influence of the planets, from the ministration of angels, and from the Spirit and Christ; and, doubtless, the further the stream runs fi-om the fountain, the more impure it is. It gathers some defilement from every unclean channel it passeth through. Though it savours not, in the hand of angels, of the imperfection of sinners, yet it doth of the imperfection of creatures; and as it comes from man it savours of both. How quick and piercing is the word in itself! yet many times it never enters, being managed by a feeble arm. Oh ! what w^eight and worth is there in every passage of the blessed gospel! enough, one w^ould think, to enter and force the dullest soul, and wholly possess its thoughts and affections : and yet how oft doth it fall as water upon a stone ! and how easily can our hearts sleep out a sermon time ! and nmch because these words of life do die in the delivery, and the fruit of conception is almost still-born. Our people's spirits remain congealed, while we who are intrusted with the word that should melt them, do suffer it to freeze between our lips. We speak, indeed.

of soul-concerning truths, and set before them life and death; but it is with such self-seeking affectation, and in such a lazy, formal, customary strain, like the pace the Spaniard rides, that the people little think we are in good sadness, or that our hearts do mean as our tongues do speak. I have heard of some tongues that can lick a coal of fire till it be cold. I fear these tongues are in most of our mouths, and that the breath that is given us to blow up this fire, till it flame in our people's souls, is rather used to blow it out. Such preaching is it that hath brought the most to hear sermons, as they say their creed and paier-voHters, even as a few good words of course. How many a cold and mean sermon that yet contains most precious truths ! The things of God which we handle are divine; but our manner of handling too human: and there is little or none that ever we touch, but we leave the print of our fingers behind us ; but if God should speak this word himself, it would be a piercing, melting word indeed. How full of comfort are the gospel promises! yet do we oft so heartlessly declare them, that the broken, bleeding-hearted saints, are much debarred of their joys. Christ is indeed a precious pearl, but oft held forth in leprous hands; and thus do we disgrace the riches of the gospel, when it is the work of our calling to make it honourable in the eyes of men ; and we dim the glory of that jewel by our dull and low expressions, and dunghill conversations, whose lustre we do pretend to discover, while the hearers judge of it by our expressions, and not its proper, genuine worth. The truth is, the best of men do apprehend but little of what God, in his word, expresseth, and what they do apprehend they are unable to utter. Human language is not so copious as the heart's conceivings are ; and what we possibly might declare, yet, through our own unbelief, stupidity, laziness, and other corruptions, we usually fail in; and what we do declare, yet the darkness of our people's understandings, and the sad senselessness of their hearts, do usually shut out and make void. So that as all the works of God are perfect in their season, as he is perfect ; so are all the works of man, as himself, imperfect; and those which God performeth by the hand of man, will too much savour of the instrument. If an angel from heaven should, preach the gospel, yet could he not deliver it according to its glory; much less we, who never saw what they have seen, and keep this treasure in earthen vessels. The comforts that flow through sermons, through sacraments, through reading, and company, and conference, and creatures, are but half comforts; and the life that comes by these is but a half life, in comparison of those which the Almighty shall speak with his own mouth, and reach forth to us with his own hand. The Christian knows by experience, now, that his most immediate joys are his sweetest joys ; those which have least of man, and are most directly from the Spirit. That is one reason, as I conceive, why Christians who are much in secret prayer, and in meditation and contemplation, rather than they who are more in hearing, reading, and conference, are men of greatest life and joy, because they are nearer the well-head, and have all

more immediately from God himself; and that I conceive the reason, also, uhy we are more indisposed (o those secret duties, and can easilier bring our hearts to hear, and read, and confer, than to secret prayer, self-examination, and meditation, because in the former is more of man; and in these we approach the Lord alone, and our natures draw back from the most spiritual and fruitful duties : not that we should therefore cast off the other, and neglect any ordinance of God. To live above them, wdiile we use them, is the way of a Christian ; but to live above ordinances, as to live without them, is to live without the compass of the gospel lines, and so without (lie government of Christ. Let such beware, lest while they would be higher than Christians, they prove in the end lower than men. We are not yet come to the time and state where we shall have all from God's immediate hand. As God hath made all creatures, and instituted all ordinances, for us, so will he continue our need of all. We nuist yet be contented with love-tokens from him, till we come to receive our all in him. We nmst be thankful if Joseph sustain our lives by relieving us in our famine with his provisions, till we come to see his own face. There is joy in these remote receivings, but the fulness is in his own presence. O Christians ! you will then know the difference betwixt the creature and the Creator, and the content that each of them affords. We shall then have light without a candle, and a perpetual day without the sun; " for the city hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof," Rev. xxi. 23 : nay, " there shall be no night there, and they need no candle, nor light of the sun ; for the Lord God giv-eth them light, and they shall reign for ever and ever," Rev. xxii. 5. We shall then have rest without sleep, and be kept from cold without our clothing, and need no fig-leaves to hide our shame ; for God will be our rest, and Christ our clothing, and shame and sin will cease together. We shall then have health without physic, and strength without the use of food ; for the Lord God will be our strength, and the light of his countenance will be health to our souls, and marrow to our bones. We shall then, and never till then, have enlightened understandings without Scripture, and be governed without a written law ; for the Lord will perfect his law in our hearts, and we shall be all perfectly taught of God. His own will shall be our law, and his own face shall be our light for ever. Then shall we have joy, which we drew not from the promises, nor was fetched us home by faith or hope. Beholding and possessing will exclude the most of these. We shall then have communion without sacraments, when Christ shall drink with us of the fruit of the vine new, that is, refresh us with the comforting-wine of immediate fruition, in the kingdom of his Father. To have necessities and no supply, is the case of them in hell; to have necessity supplied by the means of creatures, is the case of us on earth ; to have necessity supplied immediately from God, is the case of the saints in heaven ; to have no necessity at all, is the prerogative of God himself. The more of God is seen and received

with and by the means and creature here, the nearer is our state like that in glorJ^ In a \vord, we have now our mercies, as Ben-iamin had Joseph's cup, Gen. xliv. 12; we find them at a distance from God, and scarcely know from whence they come, and understand not the good-will intended in them, hut are oft ready to fear they come in wrath, and think they will but work our ruin. But when we shall feed at Joseph's own house, yea, receive our portion from his own hand; when he shall fully unbowel his love unto us, and take us to dwell in Goshen by him ; when we shall live in our Father's house and presence, and " God shall be all and in all;" then we are, indeed, at home in rest.

Sect. VI. Sixthly, Again, a further excellency is e. It will be a sea-this; it will be unto us a seasonable rest. He sonablc rest. that expecteth the fruit of this vineyard in season, and maketh his people as trees planted by the waters, fruitful in their season, he will also give them the crown in season. He that will have the words of joy spoken to the weary in season, will sure cause that time of joy to appear in the meetest season. And they who knew the season of grace, and did repent and believe in season, shall also, if they faint not, reap in season, Mark xii. 1 ; Luke xx. 10 ; Psal. i. 3 ; Isa. 1. 4 ; Gal. vi. 9. If God will not miss the season of common mercies, even to his enemies, but " will give both the former and latter rain in their season, and the appointed weeks of the harvest in its season," Jer. v. 24 ; xxxiii. 20; and by an inviolable covenant hath established day and night in their seasons ; then, sure, the harvest of the saints and their day of gladness shall not miss its season. Doubtless, he that would not stay a day longer than his promise, but brought Israel out of Egypt that self-same day that the four hundred and thirty years were expired; neither will he fail of one day or hour of the fittest season for his people's glory, Exod. xii. 40, 41 ; Jer. viii. 7. And as Christ failed not to come in the fulness of time, even then when Daniel and others had foretold his coming; so in the fulness and fitness of time will his second coming be. He that hath given the stork, the crane, the swallow, to know their appointed time, will surely keep his time appointed. When we have had in this world a long night of sad darkness, will not the day-breaking and the rising of the Sun of righteousness be then seasonable ? When we have endured a hard winter in this cold climate, will not the reviving spring be then seasonable ? ^ hen we have (as St. Paul, Acts xxvii, 7, 9) sailed slowly many days, and much time spent, and sailing now grown, more dangerous; and when neither sun, nor stars, in many days appear, and no small tempest lieth on us, and all hope that we shall be saved is almost taken away ; do you think that the haven of rest is not then seasonable? When we have passed a long and tedious journey, and that through no small dangers, is not home then seasonable ? When we have had a long and perilous war, and have lived in the midst of furious enemies, and have been forced to stand on a perpetual watch, and received from them many a woundj would not a peace, with victory, be now seasonable ?

When wo have been captivated in many years' imprisonment, and insult(>d over by scornful foes, and suHered many pinching wants, and hardly enjoyed bare necessaries, would not a full deliverance to a most plentiful state, even from this prison to a throne, be now seasonable .'' Surely a man would think, who looks upon the face of the world, that rest should to all men seem seasonable. Some of us are languishing under continual weakness, and groaning under most grievous pains, crying, in the morning, Would God it were evening! and, in the evening. Would God it were morning! weary of going, weary of sitting, weary of standing, weary of lying, weary of eating, of speaking, of walking, weary of our very friends, weary of ourselves ; oh how oft hath this been mine own case ! and is not rest yet seasonable ? Some are complaining under the pressure of the times; weary of their taxes, weary of their quartering, weary of plunderings, weary of their fears and dangers, weary of their poverty and wants ; and is not rest yet seasonable ? W hither can you go, or into what company can you come, where the voice of complaining doth not show, that men live in a continual weariness, but especially the saints, who are most weary of that which the world cannot feel i" What godly society almost can you fall into, but you shall hear by their moans that somewhat aileth them { some weary of a blind mind, doubting concerning the way they walk in, unsettled in almost all their thoughts ; some weary of a hard heart, some of a proud, some of a passionate, and some of all these, and much more : some weary of their daily doubtings, and fear concerning their spiritual estate ; and some of the want of spiritual joys, and some of the sense of God's wrath : and is not rest now seasonable ? When a poor Christian hath desired, and prayed, and waited for deliverance many a year, is it not then seasonable ? Wlien he is ready almost to give up, and saith, I am afraid I shall not reach the end, and that my faith and patience will scarce hold out; is not this a fit season for rest ? If it were to Joseph a seasonable message, which called him from the prison to Pharaoh's court; or if tli? return of his Benjamin, the tidings that Joseph was yet alive, and the sight of the chariots which should convey him to Egypt, were seasonable for the reviving of Jacob's spirits ; then, methinks, the message for a release from the flesh, and our convoy to Christ, should be a seasonable and welcome message. If the voice of the king were seasonable to Daniel, Dan. vi. 19, &c. early in the morning calling him from his den, that he might advance him to more than former dignity, then methinks that morning voice of Christ our King, calling us from our terrors among lions, to possess his rest among his saints, should be to us a very seasonable voice. Will not Canaan be seasonable after so many years' travel, and that through a hazardous and grievous wilderness ? Indeed, to the world it is never in season. They are already at their own home, and have what they most desire. They are not weary of their present state. The saints' sorrow is their joy, and the saints' weariness is their rest : their weary day is coming, where there is no more expectation of rest.

but for the thirsty soul to enjoy the fountain, and the hungry to he filled with the bread of life, and the naked to be clothed from above, for the children to come to their Father's house, and the disjoined member to be conjoined with their Head. Methinks this should be seldom unseasonable. When the atheistical world l^egan to insult, and, question the truth of Scripture promises, and ask us. Where is now your God ? Where is your long-looked-for glorj^ ? Where is the promise of your Lord's coming ? oh how seasonable, then, to convince these unbelievers, to silence these scoffers, to comfort the dejected, waiting believer, will the appearing of our Lord be ! We are oft grudging now that we have not a greater share of comforts; that our deliverances are not more speedy and eminent; that the world prospers more than we ; that our prayers are not preseirtly answered : not considering that our portion is kept to a fitter season; that these are not always winter fruits, but when summer comes we shall have our harvest. We grudge that we do not find a Canaan in the wilderness, or cities of rest in Noah's ark, and the songs of Sion in a strange land; that we have not a harbour in the main ocean, or find not our home in the middle way, and are not crowned in the midst of the fight, and have not our rest in the heat of the day, and have not our inheritance before we are at age, and have not heaven before we leave the earth : and would not all this be very unseasonable .''

I confess, in regard of the church's service, the removing of the saints may sometimes appear to us unseasonable; therefore doth God use it as a judgment, and therefore the church had ever prayed hard before they would part with them, and greatly laid to heart their loss ; therefore are the great mournings at the saints' departures, and the sad hearts that accompany them to their graves; but this is not especially for the departed, but for themselves and their children, as Christ bid the weeping woman. Therefore, also, it is, that the saints, in danger of death, have oft begged for their lives, with that argument, " What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit?" Psal. xxx. 9. " Wilt thou show wonders to the dead ? Shall the dead arise and praise thee ? Shall thy loving-kindness be declared in the grave; or thy faithfulness in destruction ? Shall thy wonders be known in the dark, and thy righteousness in the land of forgetfulness ? " Psal. Ixxxviii. 10. " For in death there is no remembrance of thee; in the grave who shall give thee thanks?" Psal. vi. 5. And this it was that brought Paul to a strait, because he knew it was better for the church that he should remain here. I must confess, it is one of my saddest thoughts, to reckon up the useful instruments, whom God hath lately called out of his vineyard, when the loiterers are many, and the harvest great, and very many congregations desolate, and the people as sheep without shepherds ; and yet the labourers called from their work, especially when a door of liberty and opportunity is open; we cannot but lament so sore a judgment, and think the removal, in regard of the church, unseasonable. I know I speak but your own thoughts; and you are too ready to overrun

nie in application. I fear you are too sensible of what I speak,* and, therefore, am loth to stir you in your sore. I perceive you in the posture of the I'^phcsian elders, and had rather abate the violence of your passions : our applications are quicker about our sufferings, than our sins ; and we will quicklier say, this loss is mine, than, this fault is mine, l^ut, O consider, my dear friends, hath God any need of such a worm as 1 ? Cannot he a thousand ways supply your wants !* You know when your case was worse, and yet he provided: hath he work to do, and will he not find instruments? And though you see not for the present where they should be had, they are never the further off for that. Where was the world before the creation? and where was the promised seed when Isaac lay on the altar ? Where was the land of promise, when Israel's burden was increased; or, when all the old stock, save two, were consumed in the wilderness? Where was David's kingdom when he was hunted in the wilderness ? or the glory of Christ's kingdom when he was in the grave, or when he first sent his twelve apostles? How suddenly did the number of labourers increase immediately upon the reformation by Luther; and how soon were the rooms of those filled up, whom the rage of the papists had sacrificed in the flames! Have you not lately seen so many difficulties overcome, and so many improbable works accomplished, that might silence unbelief, one would think, for ever? But if all this do not quiet you, for sorrow and discontent are unruly passions, yet at least remember this : suppose the worst you fear should happen, yet shall it be well with all the saints; your own turns will shortly come; and we shall be housed with Christ together, where you will want your ministers and friends no more. And for the poor world, which is left behind, whose unregenerate state causeth your grief; why, consider, shall man pretend to be more merciful than God? Hath not he more interest than we, both in the church and in the world; and more bowels of compassion to commiserate their distress ? There is a season for judgment as well as for mercy ; and if he will have the most of men to perish for their sins, and to suffer the eternal tormenting flames, must we question his goodness, or manifest our dislike of the severity of his judgment ? I confess we cannot but bleed over our desolate congregations ; and that it ill beseems us to make light of God's indignation ; but yet we should, as Aaron when his sons were slain. Lev. X. 3, hold our peace, and be silent, because it is the Lord's doing; and say, as David, "If I (and his people) shall find favour in the eyes of the Lord, he will bring me again, and show me them, and his habitations; but if he thus say, I have no delight in thee; be-

* These ^*ords were written by the author to his friends and congregation, who could then discern no probability of his much longer suniving, and upon the late death of some very useful ministers. Postquum enim affectione hypochondriaca innumera-bilibus fere stipata symptomatibus per annos 14 laborasset, cum in Ipngam tandem et inexpugnabilem inciderat debilitatem et contabescentiam, et demum in narium hremor-rhagiam, ad lib. 8. et inde in atrophiam, pro deplorato a medicis peritissimis relictus est. In qua tamen atrophia immensa Dei bonitate debilis adhuc supervivit; modis etiam postea mirabilibiis ex orci faucibus scepius ereptus.

hold, here am I, let him do with me as seemeth good unto him," Psal, xxxix. 9; 2 Sam. xv. 25, 26. I conclude, then, that whatsoever it is to those that are left hehind, yet the saints' departure to themselves is usually seasonable. I say usually, because I know a very saint may have a death * in some respect unseasonable, though it do translate him into this rest. He may die in judgment, as good Josiah, 2 Chron. xxxv. 24; he may die for his sin. For the abuse of the sacrament many were weak and sickly, and many fallen asleep, even of those who were thus judged and chastened by God, that they might not be condemned with the world. He may die by the hand of public justice ; or die in a way of public scandal. He may die in a weak degree of grace, and consequently have less degree of glory, Luke xix. 17—19. He may die in smaller improvements of his talents, and so be ruler but of few cities. The best wheat may be cut down before it is ripe ; therefore it is promised to the righteous, as a blessing, " that they shall be brought as a shock of corn into the barn in season," Job v. 26. Nay, it is possible he may die by his own hands; though some divines think such doctrine not fit to be taught, lest it encourage the tempted to commit the same sin ; but God hath left preservatives enough against sin, without our devising more of our own ; neither hath he need of ourjie to his glory. He hath fixed that principle so deep in nature, that all should endeavour their own preservation, that I never knev/ any whose understanding was not crazed or lost, much subject to that sin; even most of the melancholy are more fearful to die than other men. And this terror is preservative enough of that kind; that such committing of a heinous known sin, is a sad sign, where there is the free use of reason; that, therefore, they make their salvation more questionable ; that they die most woeful scandals to the church ; that, however, the sin itself should make the godly to abhor it, were there no such danger or scandal attending it, &c. But to exclude from salvation all those poor creatures, who in fevers, frenzies, madness, melancholy, &c. shall commit this sin, is a' way of prevention, which Scripture teacheth not, and too uncomfortable to the friends of the deceased. The common argument which they urge, drawn from the necessity of a particular repentance, for every particular known sin ; as it is not universally true, so, were it granted, it would exclude from salvation all men breathing; for there was never any man, save Christ, who died not in some particular sin, either of commission or omission, great or small, which he hath no more time to repent of, than the sinner in question : but yet, this may well be called untimely death:! but in the ordinary course of God's dealing, you may easily observe, that he purposely maketh his people's last hour in this -life, to be of all other to the flesh most bitter, and to the spirit most sweet; and that they who feared death through the most of their lives, yet at last are more willing of it than ever, and all to make their rest more seasonable. Bread and drink are always good ; but at such a time as Samaria's siege,

* Secundum quid. . f Spcuiidum quid.

to have plenty of food instead of doves' dung, in one night's space; or in such a thirst, as Ishmael's or Samson's, to liave a supply of water by miracle in a moment; these are seasonable. So this rest is always good to the saints, and usually also is most seasonable rest.

Sect. V'll. Seventhly, A further excellency of 7. It will be a rest (his rest is this ; as it will be seasonable, so a suit buitable,

able rest: suited, 1. To the natures. 2. To the desires. 3. To the necessity of the saints.

1. To their natures. If suitableness concur not with excellency, the best things may be bad to us ; for it is not that which make things good in themselves, to be good to us. In our choice of friends, we oft pass by the more excellent, to choose the more suitable. Every good agrees not with every nature. To live in a free and open air, uncler the warming rays of the sun, is excellent to man, because suital)]e : but the fish, which is of another nature, doth rather choose another element; and lliat which is to us so excellent, would quickly be to it destructive. The choicest dainties which we feed upon ourselves, would be to our beasts, as an unpleasing, so an insufficient sustenance. The iron which the ostrich well digests, would be but hard food for man : even among men, contrary appetites delight in contrary objects. You know the proverb, " One man's meat is another man's poison." Now, here is suitableness and excellency conjoined. The new nature of saints doth suit their spirits to this rest; and indeed their holiness is nothing else but a spark taken from this element, and by the Spirit of Christ kindled in their hearts, the flame whereof, as mindful of his own Divine original, doth ever mount the soul aloft, and tend to the place from whence it comes. It worketh towards its own centre, and makes us restless, till there we rest. Gold and earthly glory, temporal crowns and kingdoms, could not make a rest for saints. As they were not redeemed with so low a price, so neither are they endued with so low a nature. These might be a portion for lower spirits, and fit those whose nature they suit with ; but so they cannot a saint-like nature, 1 Pet. i. 18, 23. As (iod will have from them a spiritual worship, suitable to his own spiritual being, so will he provide them a spiritual rest, suitable to his people's spiritual nature. As spirits have not fleshly substances, so neither delight they in fleshly pleasures : these arc too gross and vile for them, ^^'hen carnal persons think of heaven, their conceivings of it are also carnal; and their notions answerable to their own natures. x\nd were it possible for such to enjoy it, it would sure be their trouble, and not their rest, because so contrary to their dispositions. A heaven of good fellowship, of wine and wantonness, of gluttony and all voluptuousness, would far better please them, as being most agreeing to their natures. But a heaven of the knowledge of God and his Christ; and a delightful complacency in that mutual love, and everlasting rejoicing in the fruition of our God, a perpetual singing of his high praises ; this is a heaven for a saint, a spiritual rest, suitable to a spiritual nature. Then, dear friends, we shall live in our element. We are now as the

fish in some small vessel of water, that hath only so much as will keep him alive; but what is that to the full ocean ? We have a little air let in to us, to afford us breathing; but what is that to the sweet and fresh gales upon Mount Sion ? We have a beam of the sun to lighten our darkness, and a warm ray to keep us from freezing ; but then we shall live in its light, and be revived by its heat for ever. Oh ! blessed be that hand which fetched a coal, and kindled a fire in our dead hearts, from that same altar where we must offer our sacrifice everlastingly ! To be locked up in gold and in pearl, would be but a wealthy starving; to bave our tables with plate and ornaments richly furnished without meat, is but to be richly famished; to be lifted up with human applause, is but a very airy felicity ; to be advanced to the sovereignty of all the earth, would be but to wear a crown of thorns ; to be filled with the knowledge of arts and sciences, would be but to further the conviction of our unhappiness; but to have a nature like God's very image, holy as he is holy, and to have God himself to be our happiness, how well do these agree ! Whether that in 2 Pet. i. 4, be meant, as is commonly understood, of our own inherent renewed nature, figuratively called divine, or rather of Christ's Divine nature without us, properly so called, whereof we are also relatively made partakers, I know not; but certainly were not our own in some sort divine, the enjoyment of the true Divine nature could not be to us a suitable rest. „ _ J . 2. It is suitable also to the desires of the saints :

2. 1 o our desires. ^ •, ,■, . . i ^ .i • ^ •

tor, such as their nature, such be their desires j and such as their desires, such will be their rest. Indeed, we have now a mixed nature ; and from contrary principles, do arise contrary desires : as they are flesh, they have desires of flesh; and as they are sinful, so they have sinful desires. Perhaps they could be too willing, whilst these are stirring, to have delights, and riches, and honour, and sin itself. But these are not prevailing desires, nor such as in their deliberate choice they will stand to ; therefore is it not they, but sin and flesh. These are not the desires that this rest is suited to, for they will not accompany them to their rest. To provide contents to satisfy these, were to provide food for them that are dead. " For they that are in Christ, have crucified the flesh, with the affections and lusts thereof," Gal. v. 26. But it is the desires of our renewed natures, and those which the Christian will ordinarily own, which this rest is suited to. Whilst our desires remain corrupted and misguided, it is a far greater mercy to deny them, yea, to destroy them, than to satisfy them ; but those which are spiritual, are of his own planting, and he will surely water them, and give the increase. Is it so great a work to raise them in us ; and shall they after all this vanish and fail ? To send the word and Spirit, mercies and judgments, to raise the sinner's desires from the creature to God, and then to suffer them so raised, all to perish without success ; this were to multiply the creature's misery ; and then were the work of sanctification a designed preparative to our torment and tantalizing, but no way con-

ducible to our happy rest. He quickened our hungering and thirst for righteousness, tliat he might make us happy in a full satisfaction. Christian, this is a rest after thy own heart; it containeth all that thy heart can wish ; that which thou longest for, prayest for, lahourest for, there thou shalt find it all. Thou hadst rather have God in Christ, than all the world ; why there thou shalt have him. Oh ! what wouldst thou not give for assurance of his love ? Why, there thou shalt have assurance beyond suspicion : nay, thy desires cannot now extend to the height of what thou shalt there obtain. Was it not a high favour of God to Solomon, to promise to give him whatsoever he would ask ? \^ hy, every Christian hath such a promise. Desire what thou canst, and ask what thou wilt, as a Christian, and it shall be given thee ; not only to half of the kingdom, but to the enjoyment both of kingdom and King. This is a life of desire and prayer; but that is a life of satisfaction and enjoyment. Oh! therefore, that w'e were but so wise, as to limit those which we know should not be satisfied; and those which we know not whether or no they will be satisfied ; and especially those which we know should not be satisfied ; and to keep up continually in heart and life, those desires which w^e are sure shall have full satisfaction. And, oh ! that sinners would also consider, that seeing God will not give them a felicity suitable to their sensual desires, it is, therefore, their wisdom to endeavour for desires suitable to the true felicity, and to direct their ship to the right harbour, seeing they cannot bring the harbour to their ship.

3. This rest is very suitable to the saints' ne- 3. To our necessi-cessities also, as w^ell as to their natures and ''^s-

desires. It contains whatsoever they truly wanted ; not supplying them with the gross created comforts which now they are forced to make use of, which, like Saul's armour on David, are more burden than benefit. But they shall there have the benefit without the burden : and the pure spirits extracted, as it w^ere, shall make up their cordial, without the mixture of any drossy or earthly substance. It was Christ, and perfected holiness, which they most needed, and with these shall they here be principally supplied : their other necessities are far better removed than supplied in the present carnal way. It is better to have no need of meat, and drink, and clothing, and creatures, than to have both the need and the creature continued : their plaster will be fitted to the quality of the sore. The rain which Elias's prayer procured was not more seasonable, after the three years' drought, than this rest will be to his thirsty soul. It will be with us as with the diseased man, who had lain at the waters, and continued diseased thirty-eight years, when Christ did fully cure him in a moment; or with the woman, who, having had the issue of blood, and spent all she had upon physicians, and suffered the space of twelve years, was healed by one touch of Christ, Luke viii. 43; Mark v. 25. So, when we have lain at ordinances, and duties, and creatures, all our life-time, and spent all, and suffered much, we shall have all done by Christ in a moment: but we shall see more of this under the next head.

Sect. VIII. Eighthly, Another excellency of our g it will be a per-rest will be this, that it will be absolutely perfect feet rest.

and complete; and this both in the sincerity and ^- I" the^sincerity universality of it. We shall then have joy without sorrow, and rest without weariness : as there is no mixture of our corruption with our graces, so no mixture of sufferings with our solace. There are none of those waves in that harbour, which now so toss us up and down: we are now sometimes at the gates of heaven, and presently almost as low as hell; we wonder at those changes of Providence towards us, being scarcely two days together in a like condition. To-day we are well, and conclude the bitterness of death is past; to-morrow sick, and conclude we shall shortly perish by our distempers ; to-day in esteem, to-morrow in disgrace; to-day we have friends, to-morrow none; to-day in gladness, tomorrow in sadness : nay, we have wine and vinegar in the same cup, and our pleasantest food hath a taste of the gall. If revelation should raise us to the third heaven, 1 Cor. xii. 7, the messenger of Satan must presently buffet us, and the prick in the flesh will fetch us down ; but there is none of this unconstancy, nor mixtures, in heaven. If perfect love cast out fear, then perfect joy must needs cast out sorrow, 1 John iv. 18, and perfect happiness exclude all the relics of misery. There will be a ^ j,^ th^ universality universal perfecting oi all our parts and powers, of it.

and a universal removal of all our evils: and 1- I" g^?„*''J./ ^"""^ though the positive part be the sweetest, and that 2. In regard of the which draws the other after it, even as the rising ^viU'e shall be freed of the sun excludes the darkness; yet is not the negative part to be slighted, even our freedom from so many and great calamities. Let us, therefore, look over these more punctually, and see what it is that we shall there rest from. In general, it is from all evil. Particularly, first, from the evil of sin; secondly, and of suffering.

First: It excludeth nothing more directly than We shall rest sin; whether original, and of nature ; or actual, ^''o™ ^'°-

and of conversation : for there entereth nothing that defileth, nor that worketh abomination, nor that maketh a lie. Rev. xxi. 27, When they are there, the saints are saints indeed. He that will wash them with his heart-blood, rather than suffer them to enter unclean, will now perfectly see to that; he who hath undertaken to present them to his Father, " not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but perfectly holy, and without blemish, will now most certainly perform his undertaking," Ephes. v. 27. What need Christ at all to have died, if heaven could have contained imperfect souls ? " For to this end came he into the world, that he might put away the works of the devil," 1 John iii. 8. His blood and Spirit have not done all this, to leave us, after all, defiled. " For what communion hath light with darkness; and what fellowship hath Christ with Belial?" 2 Cor. vi. 14. He that hath prepared for sin the torments of hell, will never admit it into the blessedness of heaven; therefore. Christian, never fear this: if thou be once

Chap. VII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. S3

in heaven, thou shalt sin no more. Is not this glad news to thee, who hast prayed, and watched, and laboured against it so long. I know if it were oiFertMl to thy choice, tiiou wouldst rather choose to be freed from sin than to be made ht>ir of all the world. Why, wait till then, and thou shalt have thy desire ; that hard heart, those vile thoughts, which did lie down and rise with thee, which did accompany thee to every duty, which thou couldst no more leave behind thee than leave thyself behind thee, shall be now left behind for ever. They might accompany thee to death, but they cannot proceed a step further. Thy understanding i. From sin in the shall never more be troubled with darkness : ignor- imdcrstan.lin{r. ance and error are inconsistent with this light. Now thou walkest like a man in the twilight, ever afraid of being out of the way; thou seest so many religions in the world, that thou fearest thy own cannot be only the right among all these ; thou seest the Scripture so exceeding difficult, and every one pleading for his own cause, and bringing such specious arguments for so contrary opinions, that it entangleth thee in a labyrinth of perplexities; thou seest so many godly men on this side, and so many on that, and each zealous for his own way, that thou art amazed, not knowing which way to take : and thus do doublings and fears accompany darkness, and we are ready to stumble at every thing in our way; but then will all this darkness be dispelled, and our blind understandings fully opened, and we shall have no more doubts of our way. We shall know which was the right side, and which the wrong; which was the truth, and which the error. Oh ! what would we give to know, clearly, all the profound mysteries in the doctrine of decree, of redemption, of justification, of the nature of grace, of the covenants, of the Divine attributes, &c.; what would we not give to see all dark scriptures made plain, to see all seeming contradictions reconciled ! Why, when glory hath taken the veil from our eyes, all this will be known in a moment; we shall then see clearly into all the controversies about doctrine or discipline that now perplex us. The poorest Christian is presently there a more perfect divine than any is here. We are now, through our ignorance, subject to such mutability, that, in points not fundamental, we change as the moon: that is cast as a just reproach upon us, that we possess our religion with reserves, and resolvedly settle upon almost nothing; that we are to-day of one opinion, and within this week, or month, or year, of another; and yet, alas! we cannot help it. The reproach may fall upon all mankind, as long as we have need of daily growth. Would they have us believe before we understand; or say, We believe, when indeed we do not ? Shall we profess ourselves resolved before we ever thoroughly studied ; or say, We are certain, when we are conscious that we are not ? But when once our ignorance is perfectly healed, then shall we be settled, resolved men; then shall our reproach be taken from us, and we shall never change our judgments more ; then shall we be clear and certain in all, and cease to be sceptics any more. Our ignorance now doth lead us into error, to the grief of our more knowing brethren, to

the disturbing of the church's quiet, and interrupting her desirable, harmonious consent; to the scandaHzing of others, and weakening ourselves. How many a humble and faithful soul is seduced into error, and little knows it! Loth they are to err, God knows, and therefore read, and pray, and confer, and yet err still, and confirmed in it more and more : and in lesser and more difficult points how should it be otherwise ? He that is acquainted amongst men, and knows the quality of professors in England, must needs know the generality of them are no great scholars, nor have much read or studied controversies, nor are men of the profoundest natural parts ; nor have the ministers of England much preached controversies to them, but were glad if their hearers were brought to Christ, and got so much knowledge as might help to salvation, as knowing that to be their great work. And can it be expected that men, void of learning and strength of parts, unstudied and untaught, should, at the first onset, know those truths, which they are almost uncapable of knowing at all; when the greatest divines, of clearest judgment, acknowledge so much difficulty that they could almost find in their hearts sometimes to profess them quite beyond their reach ? Except we will allow them to lay aside their Divine faith, and take up a human, and see with other men's eyes the weight and weakness of arguments, and not with their own, it cannot be thought that the most of Christians, no, nor the most of divines, should be free from erring in those difficult points, where we know they have not headpieces able to reach. Indeed, if it were the way of the Spirit to teach us miraculously, as the apostles were taught the knowledge of tongues, without the intervening use of reason ; or if the Spirit infused the acts of knowledge, as he doth the immediate knowing power ; then he that had most of the Spirit would not only know best, but also know most: but we have enough to convince us of the contrary to this. But, oh! that happy, approaching day, when error shall vanish away for ever; when our understanding shall be filled with God himself, whose light will leave no darkness in us ! His face shall be the Scripture, where we shall read the truth; and himself, instead of teachers and counsels, to perfect our understandings, and acquaint us with himself, who is the perfect truth. No more error, no more scandal to others, no more disquiet to our own spirits, no more mistaking zeal for falsehood; because our understandings have no more sin. Many a godly man hath here, in his mistaking zeal, been a means to deceive and pervert his brethren, and when he sees his own error, cannot again tell how to undeceive them ; but there we shall all conspire in one truth, as being one in him who is that truth.

2 From sin of will ^^^^ ^^ "^^ ^^^^^ ^'^^^ ^^"°"^ ^^^ *^^ ^^^ °^ °^^^ ""'

affection, and con-' derstandings, SO of our wills, affection, and conversation, versation. We shall no more retain this rebelling principle, which is still withdrawing us from God, and addicting us to backsliding. Doubtless, we shall no more be oppressed with the power of our corruptions, nor vexed with their presence; no pride, passion, slothfulness, senselessness, shall enter with us; no

strangeness to God, and the things of God ; no coldness of afFec tions, nor imperfection in our love ; no uneven walking, nor grieving of the Spirit; no scandalous action, or unholy conversation : we shall rest from all these for ever : then shall our understandings receive their light from the face of God, as the full moon from the open sun, where there is no earth to interpose betwixt them ; then shall our wills correspond to the Divine will, as face ansv/ers to face in a glass; and the same, his will, shall be our law and rule, from which we shall never swerve again. Now our corruptions, as the Anakims, dismay us; and, as the Canaanites in Israel, they are left for pricks in our sides, and thorns in our eyes, Josh, xxiii. 13 ; and as the bondwoman and her son in Abraham's house. Gen. xxi. 9, they do but abuse us, and make our lives a burden to us ; but then shall the bondwoman and her son be cast out, and shall not be heirs with us in our rest. As Moses said to Israel, " Ye shall not do after all the things that we do here this day, every one whatsoever is right in his own eyes, for ye are not as yet come to the rest and to the inheritance which the Lord your God giveth you," Deut. xii. 8, 9. I conclude, therefore, with the words next to my text; " For he that is entered into his rest, he also hath ceased from his own works, as God did from his," Heb. iv. 10. So that there is a perfect rest from sin.

Sect. IX. 2. It is a perfect rest from suffering : „ p when the cause is gone the effect ceaseth. Our " "^"^ *" ^"°^' sufferings were but the consequents of our sinning, and here they both shall cease together. I will show particularly ten kinds of suffering, which w^e shall there rest from.

1. We shall rest from all our perplexing doubts i. From doubts of and fears : it shall no more be said that doubts God's love,

are like the thistle, a bad weed, but growing in good ground; they shall now be weeded out, and trouble the gracious soul no more. No more need of so many sermons, books, and marks, and signs, to resolve the poor doubting soul: the full fruition of love itself hath now resolved his doubts for ever. We shall hear that kind of language no more : What shall I do to know my state ? How shall I know that God is my Father, that my heart is upright, that conversion is true, that faith is sincere ? Oh ! I am afraid my sins are unpardoned ; oh ! I fear that all is but in hypocrisy; I fear that God will reject me from his presence; I doubt he doth not hear my prayers ; how can he accept so vile a wretch, so hard-hearted, unkind a sinner, such an undervaluer of Christ, as I am ! All this kind of language is there turned into another tune ; even into the praises of him who hath forgiven, who hath converted, who hath accepted, yea, who hath glorified a wretch so unworthy ; so that it will now be as impossible to doubt and fear, as to doubt of the food which is in our bellies, or to fear it is night when we see the sun shine. If Thomas could doubt with his finger in the wounds of Christ, yet in heaven I am sure he cannot; if we could doubt of what we see, or hear, or taste, or feel, yet I am sure we cannot of what we there possess. Sure this will be comfort to the sad and drooping souls.

whose life was nothing but a doubting distress^ and their language nothing but a constant complaining. If God would speak peace, it would ease them ; but when he shall possess them of this peace, they shall rest from all their doubts and fears for ever. 2. From all sense of Sect. X. 2. We shall rest from all that sense God's displeasme. of God's displeasure, which was our greatest torment, whether manifested mediately or immediately ; " for he will cause his fury towards us to rest, and his jealousy to cease, and he will be angry with us no more," Ezek. xvi. 42. Surely hell shall not be mixed with heaven. There is the place for the glorifying of justice, prepared of purpose to manifest wrath, but heaven is only for mercy and love. Job doth not now use his own language, " Thou writest bitter things against me, and takest me for thine enemy, and settest me up as a mark to shoot at," &c. Job iii. ; xiii. 26; xvi. 12—14; vii. 10. Oh how contrary now to all this! David doth not now complain, " that the arrows of the Almighty stick in him ; that his wounds stink and are corrupt; that his sore runs and ceaseth not; that his moisture is as the drought of summer; that there is no soundness in his flesh because of God's displeasure, nor rest in his bones because of sin ; that he is weary of crying, his throat is dried, his eyes fail in waiting for God," Psal. xxxviii.; "^ that he remembers God, and is troubled; that in complaining his spirit is overwhelmed; that his soul refuseth to be comforted; that God's wrath lieth hard upon him, and that he afflicteth him with all his waves," Psal. Ixvi. 3. Oh how contrary now are David's songs! Now he saith, " I spake in my haste, and this was my infirmity," Psal. Ixxvii. 2, 3. Here the Christian is oft complaining. Oh, if it were the wrath of man, I could bear it (Psal. Ixxxviii. 7) ; but the wrath of the Almighty, who can bear ? Oh that all the world were mine enemies, so that I were assured that he were my Friend ! If it were a stranger, it were nothing ; but that my dearest Friend, my own Father, should be so provoked against me, this wounds my very soul! If it were a creature, I would contemn it, but if God be angry, who may endure ? if he be against me, who can be for me ? and if he will cast me down, who can raise me up ? But, oh ! that blessed day when all these dolorous complaints will be turned into admiring thankfulness ; and all sense of God's displeasure swallowed up .in that ocean of infinite love : when sense shall convince us that fury dwelleth not in God; and though for a little moment he hide his face, yet with everlasting compassion will he receive and embrace us ; when he shall say to Sion, " Arise and shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee," Isa. Ix. 2. 3. From Satan's Sect. XI. 3. We shall rest from all the tempta-

temptations. tions of Satan whereby he continually disturbs our peace. What a grief is it to a Christian, though he yield not to the temptation, yet to be still solicited to deny his Lord; that such a thought should be cast into his heart; that he can set about nothing that is good, but Satan is still dissuading him from it, distracting him in it, or discouraging him after it! What a torment.

as well as a temptation, is it, to have such horrid motions made to his soul, such blasphemous ideas presented to his fantasy ! Sometimes cruel thoughts of God, sometimes undervaluing thoughts of Christ, sometimes unbelieving thoughts of Scripture, sometimes injurious thoughts of Providence; to be tempted sometimes to turn to present things, sometimes to play with the baits of sin, sometimes to venture on the delights of the flesh, and sometimes to flat atheism itself; especially when we know the treachery of our own hearts, that they are as tinder or gunpowder, ready to take fire as soon as one of these sparks shall fall upon them. Oh ! how the poor Christian lives in continual disquietness, to feel these motions ! but more, that his heart should be the soil for this seed, and the too-fruitful mother of such an ofl"spring ; and most of all, through fear lest they will at last prevail, and these cursed motions should procure his consent. But here is our comfort; as we now stand not by our own strength, and shall not be charged with any of this; so when the day of our deliverance comes, we shall fully rest from these temptations : Satan is then bound up, the time of tempting is then done; the time of torment to himself, and his conquered captives, those deluded souls, is then come, and the victorious saints shall have triumph for temptation. Now we do walk among his snares, and are in danger to be circumvented with his methods and wiles; but then we are quite above his snares, and out of the hearing of his enticing charms. He hath power here to tempt us in the wilderness, but he entereth not the holy city. He may set us on the pinnacle of the temple in the earthly Jerusalem ; but the new Jerusalem he may not approach. Perhaps he may bring us to an exceeding high mountain, but the Mount Sion and city of the living God he cannot ascend : or if he should, yet all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them, will be but a poor despised bait to the soul which is possessed with the kingdom of our Lord and the glory of it. No, no, here is no more work for Satan now. Hopes he might have of deceiving poor creatures on earth, wdio lived out of sight, and only heard and read of a kingdom which they never beheld, and had only faith to live upon, and were encompassed with flesh, and drawn aside by sense. But when once they see the glory they read of, and taste the joys they heard of, and possess that kingdom which they then believed and hoped for, and have laid aside their fleshly sense, it is time, then, for Satan to have done ; it is in vain to ofl"er a temptation more. What ! draw them from that glory ; draw them from the arms of Jesus Christ; draw them from the sweet praises of God; draw them from the blessed society of saints and angels ; draw them from the bosom of the Father's love, and that to a place of torment among the damned, which their eyes behold ? Why, what charms, what persuasions, can do it ? To entice them from an unknown joy, and unknown God, were somewhat hopeful; but now they have both seen and enjoyed, there is no hope. Surely it must be a very strong temptation that must draw a blessed saint from that rest. We shall have no more need to pray, " Lead us not into temptation," nor " to watch and pray that we enter not into

temptation," Matt. vi. 13; xxvi. 41; nor shall we serve the Lord as Paul did, in " many tears and temptations," Acts xx. 19 : no; but now they who continued with Christ in temptation, shall by him be appointed to a kingdom, even as his Father appointed to him. Rev. iii. 10, that they may eat and drink at his tahle in his kingdom, Luke xxii. 28—30. " Blessed, therefore, are they that endure temptation; for when they are tried, they sliall receive the crown of life which the Lord hath promised to them that love him," James i. 12 : and then they shall be saved from the hour of temptation. Then the malignant planet Saturn shall be below us, and lose all its influence, which is now above us exercising its enmity: and Satan must be suifering, who would have drawn us into suifer-ing, as Bucholtzer wittily, Uhi Saturnus non supra nos, sed infra nos conspicietiir luens pcenas, pro sua in nos scevHia, et malitia. 4. Fromtempta Sect. XIL 4, We shall rest also from all our

tions of the world temptations which we now undergo from the world and flesh. ^^^ ^j^g flesh, as well as Satan ; and that is a num-

ber unexpressible, and a weight, were it not that we are beholden to supporting grace, utterly intolerable. Oh the hourly dangers that we poor sinners here below walk in! Every sense is a snare; every member a snare; every creature a snare ; every mercy a snare ; and every duty a snare to us. We can scarce open our eyes, but we are in danger. If we behold them above us, we are in danger of envy. If we see sumptuous buildings, pleasant habitations, honour and riches, we are in danger to be drawn away with covetous desires; if the rags and beggary of others, we are in danger of self-applauding thoughts and unmercifulness. If we see beauty, it is a bait to lust; if deformity, loathing and disdain. We can scarcely hear a word spoken, but contains to us matter of temptation. How soon do slanderous reports, vain jests, wanton speeches, by that passage, creep into the heart! How strong and prevalent a temptation is our appetite, and how constant and strong a watch doth it require ! Have we comeliness and beauty? what fuel for pride ! Are we deformed ? what an occasion of repining ! Have we strength of reason, and gifts of learning ? oh ! how hard is it not to be pulled up! 2 Cor. xi. 3; i. 12, &c.: to seek ourselves ; to hunt after applause ; to despise our brethren ; to mis-like the simplicity that is in Christ, both in the matter and manner of Scripture, in doctrine, in discipline, in worship, and in the saints; to affect a pompous, specious, fleshly service of God, and to exalt reason above faith. Are we unlearned, and of shallow heads and slender parts ? how apt, then, to despise what we have not, and to undervalue that which we do not know ; and to err with confidence, because of our ignorance ; and if conceitedness and pride do but strike in, to become a zealous enemy to truth, and a leading troubler of the church's peace, under pretences of truth and holiness ! Are we men of eminency, and in place of authority ? how strong is our temptation to slight our brethren, to abuse our trust, to seek ourselves, to stand upon our honour and privileges ; to forget ourselves, our poor brethren, and the public good! how hard

to devote our power to his glory from whom we have received it ! how prone to make our wills our law, and to cut out all the enjoyments of others, both religious and civil, by the cursed rules and model of our own interest and policy ! Are we inferiors and subject ? how prone to grudge at others' pre-eminence, and to take liberty to bring all their actions to the bar of our incompetent judgment; and to censure and slander them, and murnmr at their proceedings ! Are we rich, and not too much exalted ? Are we poor, and not discontented, and make our worldly necessities a pretence for the robbing God of all his service ? If we be sick, oh how impatient ! if in health, how few and stupid are our thoughts of eternity ! If death be near, we are distracted with the fears of it: if we think it far off, how careless is our preparation ! Do we set upon duty ? why there are snares too: either we are stupid and lazy, or rest on them, and turn from Christ; or we are customary and notional only. In a word, not one word that falls from the mouth of a minister and Christian, but is a snare ; nor a place we come into; not a word that our own tongue speaks; not any mercy we possess ; nor a bit we put into our mouths ; but they are snares : not that God hath made them so, but through our own corruption they become so to us : so that what a sad case are we poor Christians in, and especially they that discern them not! for it is almost impossible they should escape them. It was not for nothing that our Lord cries out, " What I say to one, I say to all. Watch." We are like the lepers at Samaria; if we go into the city, there is nothing but famine; if we sit still, we perish, Deut. xii. 30; vii. 25; Hos. ix. 8; Psal. Ixix. 22; Prov. xx. 25 ; xxii. 25 ; xxix. 6, 25 ; 1 Tim. vi. 9 ; Job viii. 8, 10.

But for ever blessed be Omnipotent love, which saves us out of all these, and makes our straits but the advantages of the glory of his saving grace. And " blessed be the Lord, who hath not given our souls for a prey ; our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler ; the snare is broken and we are escaped," Psal. cxxiv. 6, 7. No, our houses, our clothes, our sleep, our food, our physic, our father, mother, wife, children, friends, goods, lands, are all so many temptations ; and ourselves, the greatest snares to ourselves. But in heaven, the danger and trouble are over; there is nothing but what will advance our joy. Now every old companion, and every loose fellow, is putting up the finger, and beckoning us to sin, and we can scarce tell how to say them nay. What, say they, will not you take a cup ? Mill you not do as your neighbours ? Must you be so precise .' Do you think none shall be saved but puritans t What needs all this strictness, this reading, and praying, and preaching ? Will you make yourself the scorn of all men ? Come, do as we do, take your cups, and drink away sorrow. Oh! how many a poor Christian hath been haunted and vexed with these temptations ! and it may be father, or mother, or nearest friends will strike in, and give a poor Christian no rest : and, alas! how many, to their eternal undoing, have hearkened to their se-ducements ! But this is our comfort, dear friends, our rest will

free us from all these. As Satan hath no entrance there, so neither any thing to serve his malice; but all things shall there, with us, conspire the praises of our great Deliverer.

5. From abuses and . ^ect. XIII. 5. And as we rest from the tempta-persecutions of the tions, SO also from all abuscs and persecutions ^*'°'"^'^ which we suffer at the hands of wicked men. We

shall be scorned, derided, imprisoned, banished, butchered by them no more; the prayers of the souls under the altar will then be answered, and " God will avenge their blood on these that dwell on the earth," Rev. vi. 2, 10; 2 Tim. iii. 12. This is the time for crowning with thorns, buffeting, spitting on; that is the time for crowning with glory, Rom. viii. 17. Now the law is decreed on. That whosoever will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution ; then they that suffered with him shall be glorified with him. (Matt. X. 22, and xxiv. 9 ; 2 Thess. i. 9, 10; John xv. 18—20; xvii. 14; vii. 7; v. 23, and xvii. 22; 1 Cor. iv. 9, 13; Lam. iii. 45; Heb. X. 33; Isa. viii. 18; Luke vi. 22.) Now we must be hated of all men for Christ's name's sake, and the gospel; then will Christ be admired in his saints that were thus hated. Now, because we are not of the world, but Christ hath taken us out of the world, therefore doth the world hate us; then, because we are not of the world, but taken oat of their calamity, therefore will the world admire us. Now, as they hated Christ, they will also hate us; then, as they will honour Christ, so will they also honour us. We are here as the scorn and offscouring of all things ; as men set up for a gazing-stock to angels and men, even for signs and wonders amongst professing Christians; they put us out of their synagogues, and cast out our name as evil, and separate us from their company : but we shall then be as much gazed at for our glory, and they will be shut out of the church of tbe saints, and separated from us, whether they will or no. They now think it strange that we run not with them " to all excess of riot, speaking evil of us," 1 Pet. iv. 4 ; they will then think it more strange, that they ran not with us in the despised ways of God, and speak evil of themselves ; and more vehemently befool themselves for their carelessness, than ever they did us for our heavenliness. A poor Christian can scarce go along the streets now, but every one is pointing the finger in scorn, but then they would be glad of the crumbs of his happiness. The rich man would scarcely have believed him that would have told him, that he should beg for water from the tip of Lazarus's finger. Here is a great change ! We can scarce now pray in our families, or sing praises to God, but our voice is a vexation to them. How must it needs torment them then, to see us praising and rejoicing, while they are howling and lamenting! How full have their prisons oft been, and how bitter their rage ! How have they scattered their carcasses on the earth, and delighted themselves in the blood of saints ! How glad would they have been, if they could have brought them to ruin, and blotted out their name from under heaven ! * How have they prepared,

* In memorial of the Irish massacre, \vhere the number of the murdered in one

like Haman, their gallows ! And if God had not gainsaid it, the execution would have been answerable; "But he that sitteth in heaven did laugh them to scorn, the Lord had them in derision." Oh ! how full wore their hearts of blood, and their hands of cruelty ! so that the next generations, that knew them not, will scarcely believe the fury of their predecessors' rage. Blessed be the Guardian of the saints, who hath not suffered the prevalency of that wrath, which would have overdone the gunpowder treason, the Turkish slavery, the Spanish inquisition, and the French massacres. But the liord of hosts hath oft brought them down, and his power and justice have abated their fury, and raised to his name everlasting trophies, and set up many a monument for remembrance, which God forbid should ever be forgotten. " So let all thine incurable enemies perish, O Lord," Judg. v. 23. " When the liord maketh inquisition for blood, he will remember the precious blood which they have shed; and the earth shall not cover it any more," Psal. ix. 12. They shall pursue, but, as Pharaoh, to their own destruction : and where they fall, there we shall pass over safely, and escape them for ever. For our Lord hath told them, " that whither he goes they cannot come," John vii. 34, 36, and viii. 21, 22 ; Rev. xii. 16; Heb. xi.; Matt, xxvii. 29, 30. When their flood of persecution is dried up, and the church called out of the wilderness, and the new Jerusalem come down from heaven, and mercy and justice are fully glorified, then shall we feel their fury no more. There is no cruel mockings and scourgings ; no bonds, or imprisonments ; no stoning, or sawing asunder; tempting, or slaying with the sword; wandering in sheep-skins, or goat-skins, in deserts and mountains, dens or caves of the earth; no more being destitute, afflicted, tormented. We leave all this behind us, when once we enter the city of our rest: the names of Lollards, Hugonots, &c. are not there used; the inquisition of Spain is there condemned; the statute of the six articles is there repealed ; and the law de hiereiicis conihureiidis more justly executed ; the date of the interim is there expired; no censures to loss of members, perpetual imprisonment, or banishment. Christ is not there clothed in a gorgeous robe, and blindfolded; nor do they smite him, and say. Read who struck thee : nor is truth clothed in the robes of error, and smitten for that which it most directly contradicteth; nor a schismatic wounded, and a saint found bleeding; nor our friends smite us, whilst they mistake us for their enemies: there is none of this blind, mad work there. Dear brethren, you that now can attempt no work of God without resistance, and find you must either lose the love of the world and your outward comforts, or else the love of God and your eternal salvation ; consider, you shall in heaven have no discouraging company, nor any but who will further your work, and gladly join heart ancl voice wnth you in your everlasting joy and praises. Till then, possess your souls in patience; bind all reproaches as a crown to your heads ; esteem them greater

province doubled all that the French massacre slew. Vide Clark's Martyrology. Luke xxvi. 44 ; Psal. Ixxxiii. 4, and ii. 4.

riches than the world's treasures; account it matter of joy, when you fall into tribulation. You have seen that our God is able to deliver us; but this is nothing to our final deliverance; he will recompense tribulation^ to them that trouble you, and to you that are troubled rest with Christ. Only see to this, brethren, that none of you suifer as an evil-doer, as a busy-body in other men's matters, as a resister of the commands of lawful authority, as ungrateful to those that have been instruments of our good, as evil-speakers against dignities, as opposers of the discipline and ordinances of Christ, as scornful revilers of your Christian brethren, as reproachers of a laborious, judicious, conscientious ministry, &c. " But if any of you suffer for the name of Christ, happy are ye, for the Spirit of God and of glory resteth upon you," And if any of you begin to shrink and draw back because of opposition, and are ashamed either of your work or your Master, let such a one know to his face, that he is but a base-spirited, cowardly wretch, and cursedly undervalueth the saints' rest, and most foolishly over-valueth the things below ; and he must learn to forsake all these, or else he can never be Christ's disciple ; and that Christ will renounce him, and be ashamed of him, before his Father and the angels of heaven. But for those that have held fast their integrity, and gone through good report and evil report, and undergone the violence of unreasonable men, " let them hear the word of the Lord ; Your brethren that hated you, that cast you out for my name's sake, said, Let the Lord be glorified ; (they had good words and goodly pretences;) but he shall appear to your joy, and they shall be shamed," Isa. Ixvi. 5. " Your Redeemer is strong, the Lord of hosts is his name. He shall throughly plead your cause, that he may give rest to his people, and disquietness to their enemies," Jer. 1. 34.

6. From our divisions Scct. XIV. 6. We shall then also rest from all and dissensions. our sad divisions, and unchristian-like quarrels with one another. As he said, who saw the carcasses lie together, as if they had embraced each other, who had been slain by each other in a duel, Qucmta se invicem amplectnntur amicitia, qui mutiia implacahili inimicitia j>eriere ! How lovingly do they embrace one another, being dead, who perished through their mutual, implacable enmity ! So how lovingly do thousands live together in heaven, who lived in divisions and quarrels on earth ! Or, as he said, who beheld how quietly and peaceably the bones and dust of mortal enemies did lie together, Non ianta vivi pace essetis con-juncti; You did not live together so peaceably : so we may say of multitudes in heaven now all of one mind, one heart, and one employment ; You lived not on earth in so sweet familiarity. There is no contention, because none of this pride, ignorance, or other corruption ; Paul and Barnabas are now fully reconciled. There they are, not every man conceited of his own understanding, and in love with the issue of his own brain, but all admiring the Divine perfection, and in love with God and one another. As old Gryneus wrote to his friend. Si te non ampUus in ierrin videam, ihi

Chai'. VII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. U.i

lanirn co/tn'/iiemiis uhi I.Htltcnta cum Ziiinglio oplime jiiiii con-re/tit ; If 1 see you no more on earth, yet we shall there meet, where Luther and Zuinglius are now well agreed. 'J'here is a full reconciliation between sacramentarians and ubicjuitarians, Calvin-ists and Lutherans; remonstrants and contra-remonstrants, nonconformists and anti-disciplinarians, conformists and nonconformists, are terms there not known. There is no discipline erected by state policy, nor any disordered popular rule ; no government but that of Christ: no bitter invectives, nor voluminous reproaches ; the language of Martin* is there a stranger ; and the sound of his echo is not heard : no recording our brethren's infirmities ; nor raking into the sores which Christ died to heal. How many sermons zealously preached, how many books studiously compiled, will then by the authors be all disclaimed ! How many backbiting, slanderous speeches, how many secret dividing contrivances, nmst then be laid upon the score of Christ, against whom and his saints they were committed ! The zealous authors dare not own them; they would then, with the Ephesians, burn their books, Acts xix. 19, and rather lose their labour than stand to it. There is no plotting to strengthen our party, nor deep designing against our brethren. And is it not shame and pity, that our course is now so contrary ? Surely, if there be sorrow or shame in heaven, we shall then be both sorry and ashamed to look one another there in the face, and to remember all this carriage on earth ; even as the brethren of Joseph were to behold him, when they remembered their former unkind usage. Is it not enough that all the world is against us, but we nmst also be against one another ? Did I ever think to have heard Christians so to reproach and scorn Christians ; and men pi-ofessing the fear of God, to make so little conscience of censuring, vilifying, slandering, and disgracing one another ? Alas ! if the judgment be once perverted, and error hath possessed the supreme faculty, whither will men go, and what will they do ? nay, what will they not do ? Oh ! what a potent instrument for Satan is a misguided conscience ! It will make a man kill his dearest friend, yea, father, or mother, yea, the holiest saints, and think he doth God service by it; and to facilitate the work, it will first blot out the reputation of their holiness, and make them take a saint for a devil, that so they may vilify or destroy him without remorse. Oh ! what hellish things are ignorance and pride, that can bring men's souls to such a case as this ! Paul knew what he said, when he conmianded that a novice should not be a teacher, lest, being lifted up with pride, he fall into the condemnation of the devil, 1 Tim. iii. G. He discerned that such young Christians that have got but a little smattering knowledge in religion, do lie in greatest danger of this pride and condemnation. Who but a Paul could have foreseen, that among the very teachers and governors of so choice a church as Ephesus, that came to see and hear him, that pray and weep with him, there were some that afterwards

* Two books full of the language of hell, in bitterest scorns at the ministry and discipline, thought to be WTitten by one Overton.

should be notorious sect-masters ? " that of their own selves men should arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them ? " Acts xx. 30. Who then can expect better from any society now, how knowing and holy soever i To-day they may be orthodox, unanimous, and joined in love ; and perhaps within a few weeks be divided, and at bitter enmity, through their doting about questions that tend not to edify. Who that had seen how lovingly the godly of England did live together, would have believed that ever they would have been so bitter against one another ; that we should fall upon one another for the very same duties ; and that professors of religion should oppose and deride almost all that worship God out of conscience, which others did before them through profane-ness ? Did I not think, that of all other, the scorning at the worshippers of Christ had been a sure sign of a wicked wretch ? But I see now we must distinguish between scorners and scorners, or else I fear we shall exclude almost all. I read, indeed, in pagan writers, that the Christians were as cruel as bears and tigers against one another: Ammianus Marcellinus gives it as the reason of Julian's policy, in proclaiming liberty for every party to profess and preach their own opinions, because he knew that cruel Christians would then most fiercely fall upon one another; and so by liberty of conscience, and by keeping their children from the schools of learning, he thought to have rooted out Christianity from the earth. But I had hoped this accusation had come from the malice of the pagan writer; little did I think to have seen it so far verified! Lord, what devils are we unsanctified, when there is yet such a nature remaining in the sanctified! Such a nature hath God in these days suffered to discover itself in the very godly, that if he did not graciously and powerfully restrain, they would shed the blood of one another ; and no thanks to us, if it be not done. But I hope his design is but to humble and shame us by the discovery, and then to prevent the breaking forth.*

Object. But, is it possible such should be truly godly ? Then, what sin will denominate a man ungodly ?

Ansto. Or else I must believe the doctrine of the saints' apostacy, or believe there are scarce any godly in the world. Oh ! what a wound of dishonour hath this given not only to the stricter profession of holiness, but even to the very Christian name ! were there a possibility of hiding it, I durst not thus mention it. O Christian, if thou who readest this be guilty, I charge thee before the living God, that thou sadly consider how far is this unlike the copy ! Suppose thou hadst seen the Lord Jesus, girded to the service, stooping on the earth, washing his disciples' dirty feet, and wiping them, and saying to them, " This I have done to give you an example, that if your Lord and Master have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's;" would not this make thee

* This was written upon the war in Scotland, the death of Mr. Love, the imprisonment of many more, and an ordinance for the sequestering of all ministers that would not go to God on their errands, in fasting and prayer, or in thanksgivings for their successes. And an order made to put out all ministers from all the cities, market towns, and garrisons, that subscribed not their engagement.

Chap. VII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. [)',

ashamed, and tremble { Shall the Lord wipe the feet, and the fellow servant be ready to cut tlie throat { Would not thy proud heart scorn to stoop to thy Master's work .'' l^ook to thyself; it is not the name of a professor, nor the zeal for thy opinions, that will prove thee a Christian, or secure thee from the heat of the consuming lire. If thou love not thine enemy, much more thy Christian friend, thou canst not be Christ's disciple. It is the common mark, whereby his disciples are known to all men, " that they love one another." Is it not his last great legacy, " My peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you," Matt. v. 44 ; John xiii. 35; xiv. 17. INIark the expressions of that command, "If it be possil>le, as much as in you lieth, live peaceably with all men," Rom. xii. 8. " Follow peace with all men, and holiness," Heb. xii. 14. Oh the deceitfulness of the heart of man ! that those same men, who lately in their self-examination could find nothing of Christ so clear within them as their love to their brethren, and were confident of this, when they could scarce discover any other grace, should now look so strangely upon them, and be filled with so much bitterness against them! That the same men, who would have travelled through reproaches many miles, to hear an able, faithful minister, and not think the labour ill bestowed, should now become their bitterest enemies, and the most powerful hinderers of the success of their labours, and travel as far to cry them down ! It makes me almost ready to say, O sweet, O happy days of persecution, which drove us together in a closure of love ! who being now dried at the fire of liberty and prosperity, are crumbled all into dust by our contentions. But it makes me seriously both to say and to think, O sweet, O happy day of the rest of the saints in glory ! when as there is one God, one Christ, one Spirit, so we shall have one judgment, one heart, one church, one employment for ever ! when there shall be no more circumcision anduncircumcision, Jew and Gentile, Anabaptist, Paedobaptist, Brownist, Separatist, Independent, Presbyterian, Episcopal; but Christ is all in all. We shall not there scruple our comnmnioh, nor any of the ordinances of Divine worship ; there will not be one for singing, and another against it; but even those who here jarred in discord, shall all conjoin in blessed concord, and make up one melodious quire, I could wish they were of the martyr's mind, who rejoiced that she might have her foot in the same hole of the stocks in which Master Philpot's had been before her. But, however, I am sure they will joyfully live in the same heaven, and gladly participate in the same rest. Those whom one house could not hold, nor one church hold them, no, nor one kingdom neither ; yet one heaven and one God may hold. One house, one kingdom could not hold Joseph and his brethren; but they nmst together again, w^hether they will or not: and then how is the case altered! then every man must straight withdraw, while they weep over and kiss each other. Oh how canst thou now find in thy heart, if thou bear the heart or face of a Christian, to be bitter or injurious against thy brethren, when thou dost but once think of that time and place, where thou hopest in the nearest and sweetest

familiarity to live and rejoice with them for ever? I confess their infirmities are not to be loved, nor sin to be tolerated, because it is theirs. But be sure it be sin which thou opposest in them ; and do it with a spirit of meekness and compassion, that the world may see thy love to the person, while thou opposest the offence. Alas ! that Turks and pagans can agree in wickedness, better than Christians in the truth ! That bears and lions, wolves and tigers, can agree together, but Christians cannot! That a legion of devils can accord in one body, and not the tenth part of so many Christians in one church ! Matt. v. 9 ; Luke viii. 30. Well, the fault may be mine, and it may be theirs; or more likely both mine and theirs : but this rejoiceth me, that my old friends who now look strangely at me, will joyfully triumph with me in our common rest. 7 From our artici- Sect. XV. 7. We shall then rest from all our p'ation of the suffer- dolorous hours and sad thoughts, which we now mgs of our brethren, undergo, by participating with our brethren in their calamities. Alas, if we had nothing upon ourselves to trouble us, yet what heart could lay aside sorrows, that lives in the sound of the church's sufferings ? If Job had nothing upon his body to disquiet him, yet the message of his children's overthrow must needs grieve the most patient soul. Except we are turned into steel or stone, and have lost both Christian and human affections, there needs no more than the miseries of our brethren, to fill our hearts with successions of sorrows, and make our lives a continued lamentation. The church on earth is a mere hospital; which way ever we go, we hear complaining; and into what corner soever we cast our eyes, we behold objects of pity and grief: some groaning under a dark understanding, some under a senseless heart, some languishing under unfruitful weakness, and some bleeding for miscarriages and wilfulness; and some in such a lethargy that they are past complaining : some crying out of their pining poverty; some groaning under pains and infirmities ; and some bewailing a whole catalogue of calamities, especially in days of common sufferings, when nothing appears to our sight but ruin ;* families ruined; congregations ruined ; sumptuous structures ruined; cities ruined; country ruined ; court ruined ; kingdoms ruined. Who weeps not, when all these bleed ? iVs now our friends' distresses are our distresses, so then our friends' deliverance will be part of our own deliverance. How much more joyous now to join with them in their days of thanksgiving and gladness, than in the days of humiliation in sackcloth and ashes ! How much then more joyous will it be to join with them in their perpetual praises and triumphs, than to hear them now bewailing their wretchedness, their want of light, their want of life, of joy, of assurance, of grace, of Christ, of all things ! How much more comfortable to see them perfected, than now to see them wounded, weak, sick, and afflicted ! to stand by the bed of their languishing as silly comforters, being overwhelmed and

* When Christ's doctrine came first into the world, it was the fruit of it, for some ages, to make people lay by war, and turn to peace ; and is it not sad that now it should work so contrary, as an occasion 1

silenced with the greatness of their griefs, conscious of our own disability to relieve them, scarce having a word of comfort to re-fresli them ; or if we have, alas, they be but words, which are a poor relief, when their sufferings are real: fain we would ease or help them, but cannot: all we can do, is to sorrow with them, which, alas, doth rather increase their sorrows. Our day of rest will free both us and them from all this. Now we may enter many a poor Christian's cottage, and there see their children ragged, their purse empty, their cupboard empty, their belly empty, and poverty possessing and filling all. How nmch better is that day, when we shall see them filled with Christ, clothed with glory, and equalized with the richest and greatest princes ! Oh the sad and heart-piercing spectacles that our eyes have seen in four years' space ! In this fight a dear friend is slain; scarce a month, scarce a week, without the sight or noise of blood : surely there is none of this in heaven. Our eyes shall then be filled no more, nor our hearts pierced, with such dreadful sights, &c. Our eyes shall never more behold the earth covered with the carcasses of the slain. Our mourning attire will then be turned into the white robes and garments of gladness. Oh ! how hardly can our hearts now hold, when we think of such, and such, and such a dear Christian friend slain or departed! Oh how glad must the same hearts be when we see them all alive and glorified! But a far greater grief it is to our spirits, to see the spiritual miseries of our brethren; to see such a one with whom we took sweet counsel, and who zealously joined with us in God's worship, to be now fallen off to sensuality, turned drunkard, worldling, or a persecutor of the saints ! and these trying times have given us too large occasion for such sorrows. To see our dearest and most intimate friends to be turned aside from the truth of Christ, and that either in or near the foundation, and to be raging confident in the grossest errors ; to see many near us in the flesh, continue their neglect of Christ and their souls, and nothing will waken them out of their security; to look an ungodly father or mother, brother or sister, in the face; to look on a carnal wife, or husband, or child, or friend, and to think how certainly they shall be in hell for ever, if they die in their present unregenerate estate ! Oh ! what continual dolours do all these sad sights and thoughts fill our hearts with from day to day ! and will it not be a blessed day when we shall rest from all these ? What Christian now is not in Paul's case, and cannot speak in his language ? " Besides those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak i* Who is offended, and I burn not?" 2 Cor. xi. 28, 29. What heart is not wounded to think on Germany's long desolations! Oh! the learned universities, the flourishing churches there, that now are left desolate ! Look on England's four years' blood, a flourishing land almost made ruinate ; hear but the common voice in most cities', towns, and countries through the land, and judge whether here be no cause of sorrow : especially, look but to the sad effects, and men's spirits grown more out of order, and is this not

H

cause of astonishing sorrows ? Look to Scotland, look to Ireland ; look almost every where, and tell me what you see. Blessed be that approaching day, when our eyes shall behold no more such sights, nor our ears hear any more such tidings ! How many hundred pamphlets are printed, full of almost nothing but the common calamities ! so that it is become a gainful trade to divulge the news of our brethren's sufferings ; and the fears for the future that possessed our hearts, were worse than all that we saw and suffered; nay, have not many died with the fears of that which, if they had lived, they had neither suffered nor seen ? It is said of Melancthon, that the miseries of the church made him almost neglect the death of his most beloved children. To think of the gospel departing, the glory taken from Israel, our sun setting at noon-day, poor souls left willingly dark and destitute, and with great pains and hazard blowing out the light that should guide them to salvation; what sad thoughts must these be ! (See Neh. i. 4 ; ii. 3; Psal. cxxxvii.) To think of Christ removing his family; taking away both worship and worshippers, and to leave the land to the rage of the merciless : these were sad thoughts. Who could then have the harp in hand, or sing the pleasant songs of Sion ? Isa. Ix. 11—14. But blessed be the Lord, who hath frustrated our fears, and who will hasten that rejoicing day, when Sion shall be exalted above the mountains, and her gates shall be open day and night, and the glory of the Gentiles be brought into it, and the nation and kingdom that will not serve her shall perish : when the sons of them that afflicted her shall come bending unto her, and all they that despised her " shall bow themselves at the soles of her feet; and they shall call her the city of the Lord, the Zion of the Holy One of Israel," Isa. Ix. 21, 22 : when her people also shall be all righteous, even the work of God's hands, the branch of his planting, who shall inherit the land for ever, that he may be glorified : when that voice shall sound forth, " Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad with her, all ye that love her : rejoice for joy with her, all ye that love her; that ye may suck, and be satisfied with the breasts of her consolation ; that ye may milk out, and be delighted with the abundance of her glory," Isa. Ixvi. 10, 12. Thus shall we rest from our participation of our brethren's sufferings. 8. From all our own Sect. XVI. 8. We shall rest also from all our personal sufferings, own personal Sufferings, whether natural and ordinary, or extraordinary, from the afflicting hand of God. And though this may seem a small thing to those that live in continual ease, and abound in all kind of prosperity, yet, methinks, to the daily afflicted soul, it should make the forethoughts of heaven delightful ; and I think I shall meet with few of the saints but will say, that this is their own case. Oh the dying life that we now live ! as full of sufferings as of days and hours ! We are the carcasses that all calamities p#y upon : as various as they are, each one will have a snatch at us, *lid be sure to devour a morsel of our comfort. When we bait our bulls and bears, we do but represent our own condition; whose lives are consumed under such assaults.

Chap. YII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. «)0

and spent in succession of tVesli encounters. All creatures have an enmity against us, ever since we made the Lord of all our enemy ; and though we are reconciled hy the blood of the covenant, and the price is paid for our full deliverance, yet our Redeemer sees it fit to leave this measure of misery upon us, to make us know for what we are beholden, to mind us of what we would else forget, to be serviceable to his wise and gracious designs, and advantageous to our full and final recovery. He hath sent us as lambs among wolves; and sure there is little rest to be expected. As all our senses are the inlets of sin, so they are become the inlets of sorrow. Grief creeps in at our eyes, at our ears, and almost every where ; it seizeth upon our heads, our hearts, our flesh, our spirits ; and what part doth escape it.' Fears do devour us, and darken our delights, as the frosts do nip the tender buds ; cares do consume us, and feed upon our spirits, as the scorching sun doth wither the delicate flowers : or, if any saint or stoic have fortified his inwards against these, yet he is naked still without; and if he be wiser than to create his own sorrows, yet shall he be sure to feel his share; he shall produce them as the meritorious, if not as the efiicient cause. "What tender pieces are these dusty bodies ! What brittle glasses do we bear about us; and how many thousand dangers are they hurried through; and how hardly cured if once cracked! Oh the multitudes of slender veins, of tender membranes, nerves, fibres, muscles, arteries, and all subject to obstructions, exhesions, tensions, contractions, resolutions, ruptures, or one thing or other, to cause their grief; every one a fit subject for pain, and fit to comnumicate that pain to the whole ! What nobler part is there that sufffereth its pain or ruin alone ? Whatever it is to the sound and healthful, methinks to such as myself this rest should be acceptable, who in ten or twelve years' time, have scarce had a whole day free from some dolour. Oh the weary nights and days! oh the unserviceable, languishing weakness! oh the restless, working vapours ! oh the tedious, nauseous medicines, besides the daily expectations of worse ! And will it not be desirable to rest from all these ? There will be then no crying out. Oh my head! oh my stomach ! oh my sides ! or oh my bowels! no, no, sin, and flesh, and dust, and pain, will all be left behind together. Oh ! what would we not give now for a little ease, much more for a perfect cure ! How, then, should we value that perfect freedom ! If we have some mixed comforts here, they are scarce enough to sweeten our crosses; or if we have some short and smiling intermissions, it is scarce time enough to breathe us in, and to prepare our tacklings for the next storm. If one wave pass by, another succeeds ; and if the night be over, and the day come, yet will it soon be night again. Some men's fevers are continual, and some intermittent; some have tertians, and some quartans ; but, more or less, all have their fits. Oh the blessed tranquillity of that region, where there is nothing but sweet continued peace ! No succession of joy there, because no intermission. Our lives will be but one joy, as our time will be changed into one eternity.

O healthful place, where none are sick ! O fortunate land, where all are kings ! O place most holy, where all are priests ! How free a state, where none are servants, save to their supreme Monarch ! For it shall come to pass, that in that day the Lord shall give us rest from our sorrow, and our fear, and from the hard bondage wherein we served, Isa. xiv. 3. The poor man shall no more be tired with his incessant labours ; no more use of plough, or flail, or scythe, or sickle ; no stooping of the servant to the master, or the tenant to the landlord; no hunger, or thirst, or cold, or nakedness; no pinching frosts, nor scorching heats. Our very beasts who suffered with us, shall also be freed from their bondage ; ourselves, therefore, much more: our faces shall no more be pale or sad ; our groans and sighs will be done away ; and God will wipe away all tears from our eyes, Rom. viii. 19—22 ; Rev. vii. 15—17 ; xxi. 3, 4. No more parting of friends asunder, nor voice of lamentation heard in our dwellings. No more breaches, nor disproportion, will be in our friendship, nor any trouble accompanying our relations; no more care of master for servants, or parents for children, or magistrates over subjects, or ministers over people; no more sadness for our study lost, our preaching lost, our entreaties lost, the tenders of Christ's blood lost, and our dear people's souls lost; no marrying, nor giving in marriage, but we shall be as the angels of God. Oh what room can there be for any evil, where the whole is perfectly filled with God ? Then shall the " ransomed of the Lord return and come to Sion with songs, and everlasting joy upon their heads : they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away," Isa. xxxv. 10. Hold out then a little longer, O my soul; bear with the infirmities of thine earthly tabernacle; endure that share of sorrows that the love of thy Father shall impose ; submit to his indignation also, because thou hast sinned against him : it will be thus but a little while; the sound of thy Redeemer's feet are even at the door; and thine own deliverance nearer than many others. And thou who hast often cried, in the language of the divine poet, Herbert,

" Sorrow was all my soul; I scarce believed, Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived,"

shalt then feel, that God and joy is all thy soul; the fruition of ^whom, with thy freedom from all these sorrows, will, more sweetly, 'and more feelingly, make thee know, and to his eternal praise acknowledge, that thou livest.

And thus we shall rest from all afflictions.

Sect. XVn. 9. We shall rest also from all the 9. From all the labour trouble and pain of duty. The conscientious ma- and trouble of duties. gistrate now cries out. Oh the burden that lieth upon me ! The conscientious parents, that know the preciousness of their children's souls, and the constant pains required to their godly education, cry out. Oh the burden! The conscientious minister, above all, when he reads his charge, 2 Tim. iv. 1, and views his pattern, Mark iii. 20, 21, &c.; Acts xx. 18, 31; when he hath tried awhile what

it is to study, and pray, and preach, according to the weight and excellency of the work ; to go from house to house, and from neighbour to neighbour, and to beseech them night and day with tears, and, after all, to be hated and persecuted for so doing, no wonder if he cry out, Oh the burden ! and be ready to turn away with Jonas ; and, with Jeremy, to say, " I will not make mention of him, nor speak any more in his name ; for his word is a reproach to us, and a derision daily ; but that he hath niade his word as a fire shut up in our bones and heart, that we are weary of forbearing, and cannot stay," Jer. xx. 8, 9. How long may we study and labour before one soul is brought clear over to Christ! and when it is done, how soon do the snares of sensuality or error entangle them ! How many receive the doctrine of delusion before they have time to be built up in the truth ! and when heresies must of necessity arise, how few of them do appear approved ! The first new, strange apparition of light doth so amaze them, they think they are in the third heaven, when they are but newly passed from the suburbs of hell; and are presently as confident as if they knew all things, when they have not half light enough to acquaint them with their ignorance ; but, after ten or twenty years' study, they become usually of the same judgment with those they despised. And seldom doth a minister live to see the ripeness of his people ; but one soweth and planteth, another watereth, and a third reapeth and receiveth the increase. Yet were all this duty delightful, had we but a true proportion of strength. But, to inform the old, ignorant sinner, to convince the stubborn and worldly wise, to persuade a wilful, resolved wretch, to prick a stony heart to the quick, to make a rock to weep and tremble, to set forth Christ according to our necessity and his excellency, to comfort the soul whom God dejected, to clear up dark and difficult truths, to oppose with convincing arguments all gainsayers, to credit the gospel with exemplary conversations, when multitudes do but watch for our halting; oh ! who is sufficient for these things ? So that every relation, stage, age, hath variety of duty : every conscientious Christian cries out. Oh the burden ! or. Oh my weakness that makes it so burdensome ! But our remaining rest will ease us of the burden. Then will that be sound doctrine, which now is false, that the law hath no more to do with us ; that it becomes not a Christian to beg for pardon, seeing all his sins are perfectly pardoned already ; that we need not fast, nor mourn, nor weep, nor repent; and that a sorrowful countenance beseems not a Christian : then will all these become truths.

Sect. XVni. 10. And, lastly, we shall rest jq From all those from all those sad affections, which necessarily troublesome affec-accompany our absence from God: the trouble 'iuVieom^^^^^^^ that is mixed in our desires and hopes, our long- our absence trom ings and waitings, shall then cease. We shall no ^'"'^• more look into our cabinet, and miss our treasure ; look into our hearts, and miss our Christ ; nor no more seek him from ordinance to ordinance, and inquire for our God of those we meet; our heart

will not lie in our knee, nor our souls be breathed out in our requests ; but all conclude in a most full and blessed fruition. But because this, with the former, are touched before, I will say no more of them now : so you have seen what we shall rest from. 9. It will be an Sect. XIX. The ninth and last jewel in our

everlasting rest. crowu, and blessed attribute of this rest, is, that it is an eternal rest. This is the crown of our crown; without which, all were comparatively little or nothing. The very thought of once leaving it, would else imbitter all our joys : and the more would it pierce us, because of the singular excellences which we must forsake. It would be a hell in heaven to think of once losing heaven ; as it would be a kind of heaven to the damned, had they but hopes of once escaping. Mortality is the disgrace of all sublunary delights. It makes our present life of little value, (were it not for the reference it hath to God and eternity,) to think that we must shortly lay it down. How can we take delight in any thing, when we remember how short that delight would be; that the sweetness of our cups and morsels is dead as soon as they are but once past our taste ! Indeed, if man were as the beast, that knows not his suffering or death till he felt it, and little thinks when the knife is whetting, that it is making ready to cut his throat, then might we be merry till death forbid us, and enjoy our delights till they shall forsake us ; but, alas ! we know both good and evil; and evil foreknown, is in part endured; and thus our knowledge in-creaseth our sorrows, Eccles. i. 18. How can it choose but spoil our pleasure, while we see it dying in our hands ! How can I be as merry as the jovial world, who have mine eye fixed upon eternity ! When methinks I foresee my dying hour, my friends waiting for my last gasp, and closing my eyes, while tears forbid to close their own; methinks I hear them say. He is dead. Methinks I see my coffin made, my grave in digging, and my friends 'there leaving me in the dust: and where, now, is that we took delight in ? O but methinks I see, at the same view, that grave opening, and my dead, revived body rising; methinks I hear that blessed voice, Arise and live, and die no more. Surely, were it not for eternity, I should think man a silly piece ; and all his life and honour but contemptible : I shall call him, with David, a vain shadow; and with the prophet, nothing, and less than nothing, and altogether lighter than vanity itself. It utterly disgraceth the greatest glory in mine eyes, if you can but truly call it mortal. I can value nothing that shall have an end, except as it leads to that which hath no end, or as it comes from that love which hath neither beginning nor end. I speak this of my deliberate thoughts ; and if some ignorant or forgetful soul have no such sad thoughts to disturb his pleasure, I confess he may be merrier for the present; but where is his mirth when he lieth a dying ? Alas ! it is a poor happiness that consists only in the ignorance or forgetfulness of approaching misery; but, O blessed eternity 1 whore our lives are perplexed with no such thoughts, nor our joys interrupted with any such fears ; where we shall be " pillars in God's temple," Rev. iii. 12, and go out no

more. Oh what do I say when I talk of eternity ! Can iny shallow thoughts conceive at all what the most high expression doth contain ! To be eternally blessed, and so blessed ! Why, surely this, if any thing, is the resemblance of God: eternity is a piece of in-finiteness. Then, O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ? Days, and nights, and years, time, and end, and death, are words which there have no signification; nor are used, except perhaps to extol eternity, as the mention of hell, to extol heaven. No more use of our calendars or chronology : all the years of our Lord, and the years of our lives, are swallowed up and lost in this eternity. \\ hile we were servants, we held by lease ; and that but for the term of transitory life ; but the son abideth in the house for ever. Gal. vi. 8. Our first and earthly Paradise in Eden had a way out, but none that ever we could find in again ; but this eternal paradise hath a way in, (a milky way to us, but a bloody way to Christ,) but no way out again; "for they that would pass from hence to you," saith Abraham, " cannot," Luke xvi. 24. A strange phrase ! Would any pass from such a place if they might ? Could they endure to be absent from God again one hour ? No, but upon supposal that they would, yet they could not. O then, my soul^ let go thy dreams of present pleasures ; and loose thy hold of earth and fiesh. Fear not to enter that estate, where thou shalt ever after cease thy fears. Sit down, and sadly, once a day, bethink thyself of this eternity : among all the arithmetical numbers, study the value of this infinite cipher, which, though it stand for nothing in the vulgar account, doth yet contain all our millions, as much less than a simple unit. Lay by the perplexed and contradicting chronological tables, and fix thine eye on this eternity; and the lines which remote thou couldst not follow, thou shalt see all together here concentred. Study less those tedious volumes of history, which contain but the silent narration of dreams, and are but the pictures of the actions of shadows ; and, instead of all, study frequently, study thoroughly this one word, eternity, and when thou hast learned thoroughly that one word, thou wilt never look on books again. What! live, and never die { rejoice, and ever rejoice ? Oh, what sweet words are these, never and ever I O happy souls in hell, should you but escape after millions of ages ! and if the Origenist doctrine were but true ! O miserable saints in heaven, should you be dispossessed after the age of a million of worlds ! But, oh this word, everlasting, contains the accomplished perfection of their torment and our glory. Oh that the wicked sinner would but soundly study this word, everlasting, methinks it should startle him out of his deadest sleep ! Oh that the gracious soul would be-lievingly study this word, everlasting, methinks it should revive him in the deepest agony ! And nmst I, Lord, thus live for ever ? Then will I also love for ever. Must my joys be immortal; and shall not my thanks be also immortal ? Surely, if I shall never lose my glory, 1 will also never cease thy praises. Shouldst thou but renew my lease of the first-fruits, would I not renew thy fine and rent ? But if thou wilt both perfect and perpetuate me and my

glory, as I shall be thine, and not mine own, so shall my glory be thy glory ; and as all did take their spring from thee, so all shall devolve into thee again; and as thy glory was thine ultimate end in my glory, so shall it also be mine end, when thou hast crowned me with that glory which hath no end. And " to thee, O King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, shall be the honour and glory, for ever and ever. Amen," 2 Tim. i. 17.

Sect. XX. And thus I have endeavoured to show you a glimpse of the approaching glory : but, oh, how short are my expressions of its excellency ! Reader, if thou wilt be a humble, sincere believer, and waitest with longing and labouring for this rest, thou wilt shortly see and feel the truth of all this ; then wilt thou have so high an apprehension of this blessed state, that will make thee pity the ignorance and distance of mortals; and will tell thee then all that is here said is spoken but in the dark, and falls short of the truth a thousandfold. In the mean time, let this much kindle thy desires, and quicken thine endeavours. Up, and be doing; run, and strive, and fight, and hold on, for thou hast a certain, glorious prize before thee. God will not mock thee : do not mock thyself, nor betray thy soul, by delaying or dallying, and all is thine own. What kind of men dost thou think Christians would be in their lives and duties, if they had still this glory fresh in their thoughts ? What frame would their spirits be in, if their thoughts of heaven were lively and believing ? Would their hearts be so heavy, and their countenance so sad ? or would they have need to take up their comforts from below ? Would they be so loth to suffer, and afraid to die ? or would they not think every day a year, till they did enjoy it ? The Lord heal our carnal hearts, lest we enter not into his rest, because of our unbelief.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PEOPLE OF GOD DESCRIBED.

Sect. I. Having thus performed my first task of describing and explicating the saints' rest, it remains that now I proceed unto the second, and show you what these "people of God" are, and why so called, for whom this blessed rest remaineth; and I shall suit my speech unto the quality of the subject. While I was in the mount, I felt it was good being there, and therefore tarried there the longer; and were there not an extreme disproportion between my conceivings and that subject, yet much longer had I been. And could my capacity have contained what was there to be seen, I could have been contented to have built me a tabernacle there. Can a prospect of that happy land be tedious, or a discourse of eternity be too long, except it should detain us from actual possession, and our absence move us to impatience ? But now I am

descended from heaven to earth, from God to man, and must discourse of a worm not six feet long, whose life is but a span, and his years as a post that hasteth by ; my discourse also shall be but a span, and in a brief touch 1 will pass it over. Having read of such a high and unspeakable glory, a stranger would wonder for what rare creature this mighty preparation should be, and expect some illustrious sun should now break forth ; but, behold, only a shell full of dust, animated with an invisible rational soul, and that rectified with as unseen a restored power of grace ; and this is the creature that must possess such glory. You would think it must needs be some deserving piece, or one that brings a valuable price. But, behold, one that hath nothing, and can deserve nothing, and confesseth this, yet cannot, of himself, confess it neither, yea, that deserveth the contrary misery, and would, if he might, proceed in that deserving; but being apprehended by love, he is brought to him that is all, and hath done and deserved all, and suffered for all that we deserved; and most affectionately receiving him, and resting on him, he doth, in and through him, receive all this. But let us see more particularly yet, what these " people of God" are.

They are a small part of lost mankind, whom Description God hath from eternity predestinated to this rest, for the glory of his mercy, and given to his Son, to be by him in a special manner redeemed, and fully recovered from their lost estate, and advanced to this higher glory : all which Christ doth, in due time, accomplish accordingly by himself for them, and by his Spirit upon them. To open all the parts of this half-description to the full, will take up more time and room than are allowed me. Therefore briefly thus :

1. I meddle only with mankind, not with angels; nor will I curiously inquire whether there were any other world of men created and destroyed before this had being; nor whether there shall be any other when this is ended. All this is quite above us, and so nothing to us: nor say I the sons of Adam only, because Adam himself is one of them.

2. And as it is no more excellent a creature than man that must have this possession, so is it that man, who once was lost, and had scarcely left himself so much as man. The heirs of this kingdom were taken, even from the tree of execution, and rescued by the strong hand of love from the power of the prince of darkness, who having taken them in his snares, did lead them captive at his will: they were once within a step of hell, who must now be advanced as high as heaven. And though I mention their lost condition before their predestination, yet I thereby intend not to signify any precedency it hath, either in itself, or in the Divine consideration. That question I dare not touch, as being very suspicious that it is high arrogancy in us to dispute of precedency in the Divine consideration ; and that we no more know what we talk of than this paper knows what I write of: when we confess, that all these acts in God are truly one, and that there is no difference of time with

him : it is dangerous to dispute of priority or posterity in nature ; at least of the decree of the means, which is hut one.

3. That they are but a small part of this lost generation, is too apparent in Scripture and experience. " It is the little flock to whom it is the Father's good pleasure to give the kingdom." If the sanctified are few, the saved must needs be few: fewer they are than the world imagines; yet not so few as some drooping spirits deem, who are doubtful that God would cast off them, who would not reject him for all the world ; and are suspicious that God is unwilling to be their God, when yet they know themselves willing to be his people.

4. It is the design of God's eternal decree to glorify his mercy and grace to the highest in this their salvation; and, therefore, needs must it be a great salvation. Every step of mercy to it was great; how much more this end of all those mercies, which stands next to God's ultimate end, his glory! God cannot make any low or mean work to be the great business of an eternal purpose.

5. God hath given all things to his Son, but not as he hath given his chosen to him :* the difference is clearly expressed by the apostle. He hath made him " Head over all things to his church," Eph. i. 22. And though Christ is, in some sense, a ransom for all, yet not in that special manner as for his people. He hath, according to the tenor of his covenant, procured salvation for all, if they will believe ; but he hath procured for his chosen even this condition of believing.!

6. Nor is the redeeming of them by death his whole task ; but also the effecting of their full recovery: he may send his Spirit to persuade others ; but he intends absolutely his prevailing only with his chosen. And as truly as he hath accomplished his part on the cross for them, so truly will he accomplish his part in heaven for them, and his part by his Spirit also on them. And of all that the Father hath thus given him, he will lose nothing.

Sect. II. But this is but a piece of their description, containing God's work for them, and on them ; let us see what they are also in regard of the working of their own souls towards God, and their Redeemer, again.J [These people of God then, are the (1) part of the (2) externally called, (3) who being by the (4) Spirit of Christ (5) thoroughly, though (6) imperfectly, regenerate, are hereupon (7) convinced, and (8) sensible of that (9) evil in sin, (10) that

* See John xvii. 2, a clear place.

t That faith is properly called the condition of the covenant, and justifieth as a condition, besides what I have said in my " Confession," I refer you to Master Wotton de Reconcil. part 1. lib. ii. c. 19, -where you have the attestation of our chief divines. And, indeed, he must he a wiser man than I that can reach to know how faith can directly justify under any other notion than that of a condition ; that apprehensive nature which makes men call it an instrument, being only its aptitude to its office, and not the formal reason of its justifying.

X They that would see this work of God on the soul handled most exactly, judiciously, scholastically, and briefly, let them read Mr. Parker's excellent Theses de Traductione peccatoris ad vitam. If you cannot get the book, it is in the end of Ames, against Grevincho, but maimed of fifteen Theses left out: though I own not every controverted assertion in it.

misery in themselves, that (11) vanity in the creature, and that ( 12) necessity, (13) sufficiency, and (14) excellency of Jesus Christ, that they (15) abhor that evil, (IG) bewail that misery, and (17) turn their hearts from that vanity ; and (IH) accepting of Christ for their (lU) Saviour and (20) Lord, to bring them unto (21) God the chief good, and present them (22) perfectly just before him, do accordingly enter into a (23) cordial covenant with him, and so (24) deliver up themselves unto him, and herein (25) persevere to their lives' end.]

I shall briefly explain to you the branches of this The first description part of the description also. • explained.

]. I say, they are a part of " the externally call- j -pj,^^ ^^^ ^.^^^^ ed," because the Scripture hath yet showed us no nailv called. other way to the internal call, but by the external. ^^'^^^ cLli^'i^!"''''^ " For how shall they believe on him of whom they have not heard i And how shall they hear without a preacher ?" Rom. X. 14. All divulging of the substance of the gospel, whether by solemn sermons, by writing, printing, reading, conference, or any other means that have a rational sufficiency, for information and conviction, are this preaching ; though not alike clear and excellent. The knowledge of Christ is none of nature's principles : the book of the creatures is no means alone, much less a sufficient means to teach the knowledge of Christ. It may what is the means of discover mercy, but gives not the least hint of the this call? Whether way of that mercy : it speaks nothing of God in- IJf ."Jffi.'liT*'*^" carnate, or two natures in one person ; of Jesus the Son of Mary; of Christ's suretiship, and suffering for us, rising, ascending, mediating, returning; of two covenants, and their several conditions, and the reward of keeping them, and penalty of breaking them, &c. It is utterly silent in these things. And to affirm that the Spirit calls or teacheth men where the word is not, and where the creature or nature speaks not, is, I think, a groundless fiction. There is the light of the eye, and the light of the sun, or some other substitute external light, necessary to our seeing any object. The Scripture and certain revelations from heaven (when and where such are) is the sun of external light; the understanding is our eye, or internal light: this eye is become blind, and this internal light in the best is imperfect; but the external light of Scripture is now perfected : therefore the work of the Spirit now is, not to perfect Scripture, or to add any thing to its discovery, or to 1)0 instead of a Scripture where it is wanting, much less where the Scripture is; but to remove the darkness from our understanding, that we may see clearly what the Scripture speaks clearly. Before the Scripture was perfect, the Spirit did enlighten the prophets and penmen of Scripture both ways ; but now I know no teaching of the Spirit, save only by its illuminating or sanctifying work ; teaching men no new lesson, nor the old without book ; but to read with understanding, what Scripture, nature, creatures, and providences, teach.* The asserting of any more, is proper to the enthusiasts.

* As when Christ had opened the eyes of the man born blind, he did but give him a

If the Spirit's teaching did without Scripture or tradition reveal Christ, surely some of those millions of poor blind pagans would have before this believed, and the Christian faith have been propagated among them.

2. They are but part 2. That these people of God are but a part of of the externally those that are thus externally called, is too evident *^^^®'* in Scripture and experience. " Many are called, but few are chosen:" but the internally, effectually called, are all chosen: " for whom he called, them he justified; and whom he justified, them he glorified," Rom. viii, 30. The bare invitation of the gospel, and men's hearing the word, is so far from giving title to, or being an evidence of, Christianity and its privileges, that where it prevails not to a thorough conversion, it sinks deeper, and casts under a double damnation.

3. They are regeue- '^- The first differencing work I affirm to be re-rate by the Spirit of generation by the Spirit of Christ; taking it for ^^"^^ granted, that this regeneration is the same with effectual vocation, with conversion, with sanctification ; understanding conversion, and sanctification, of the first infusion of the principle of spiritual life into the soul, and not for the addition of degrees, or the sanctifying of the conversation, in which last sense it is most frequently taken in Scripture.

Necessity of this re- This Spiritual regeneration, then, is the first and generation. great qualification of these people of God ; which,

though habits are more for their acts than themselves, and are only perceived in their acts, yet by its causes and effects we should chiefly inquire after. To be the people of God without regeneration, is as impossible as to be the natural children of men without generation; seeing we are born God's enemies, we must be newborn his sons, or else remain his enemies still. Oh that the unre-generate world did know or believe this ! in whose ears the new birth sounds as a paradox, and the great change which God works upon the soul is a strange thing: who, because they never felt any such supernatural work upon themselves, do therefore believe that there is no such thing, but that it is the conceit and fantasy of idle brains ; who make the terms of regeneration, sanctification, holiness, and conversion, a matter of common reproach and scorn, though they are the words of the Spirit of God himself; and Christ hath spoken it with his mouth, " that except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." The greatest reformation of life that can be attained to, without this new life wrought in the soul, may procure their further delusion, but never their salvation.

This regeneration I call " thorough," to distinguish it from those slight tinctures, and superficial changes, which other men may par-power to see what present objects the sun or other external lights should reveal, but not the actual sight of all the objects in the world, nor of any without external light; he must yet travel to Rome, to India, &c. if he will see them : so God's illumination by the Spirit doth give men ability to see, but not without external revelation by the word ; and they must travel by long, painful studv, from truth to truth, before they know them. See Heb. v. 11—14, fully for this.

take of; and yet " imperfect," to distinguish our present from our future condition in glory ; and that the ("hristian may know, that it is sincerity, not perfection, which he must inquire after in his soid.

Sect. III. Thus far the soul is passive. Let us j The soul is con-next see hy what acts this new life doth discover vinccd, i.e. i. itself, and this divine spark doth hreak forth; and S;ih'to iho"^'' how the soul, touched with this loadstone of the truth of Scripture Spirit, doth presently move toward God. The ^'"■'"*'^-first work I call " conviction," which comprehends knowledge, and assent. It comprehends the knowledge of what the Scripture speaks against sin, and sinners ; and that this Scripture which so speaks, is the word of God himself. Whosoever knows not hoth these, is not yet thus convinced. It comprehends a sincere assent to the verity of the Scripture ; as also some knowledge of ourselves, and our own guilt, and an acknowledgment of the And knows its own verity of those consequences, which from the pre- sin, and guilt, and mises of sin in us, and threats in Scripture, do con- "^'^'^''y-elude us miserable. It hath been a great question, and disputed in whole volumes, which grace is the first in the soul; where faith and repentance are usually the only competitors. In regard of the principle, the power, or habit, which soever it be that is infused, they are all at once; being indeed all one ; and called several graces from the diversity of their objects and subjects, as residing in the several faculties of the soul; the life and rectitude of which several faculties and affections, are in the same sense several graces; as the German, French, British seas, are ^,

1 \ 1 r x^ i-i i i Ihereiore not any

several seas. And lor the acts, it is most apparent, other, but this know-that neither repentance nor faith (in the ordinary ledge is the first grace,

,•, \ ■ n I. 1 1. ^ 11 nni ■ m retrard of the order

strict sense) is first, but knowledge. Ihere is no of their acting; act of the rational soul about any object preceding though in the vital knowledge. Their evasion is too gross, who tell ^'ether'^'"''"' us, that knowledge is no grace, or but a common act: when a dead soul is by the Spirit enlivened, its first act is to know ; and why should it not exert a sincere act of knowing, as well as believing, and the sincerity of knowledge be requisite, as well as of faith ; especially when faith in the gospel sense is sometimes taken largely, containing many acts, whereof knowledge is one, in which large sense, indeed, faith is the first grace. This conviction implieth also the subduing and silencing in some measure of all their carnal reasonings, which were wont to prevail against the truth, and a discovery of the fallacies of all their former argumentations.

2. As there must be conviction, so also sensi- The soul is sensible bility : God works on the heart, as well as the ofwhat it is con-head ; both were corrupted, and out of order. The ^'"*^*'^-principle of new life doth quicken both. All true spiritual knowledge doth pass into affections. That religion which is merely traditional, doth indeed swim loose in the brain; and the devotion which is kindled but by men and means, is hot in the mouth, and cold in the stomach. The work that had no higher rise than

Necessity of education, example, custom, reading, or hearing, sensibility. doth never kindly pass dowH to the aflfections. The

understanding which did receive but mere notions, cannot deliver them to the aifections, as realities. The bare help of doctrine upon an unrenewed soul, produceth in the understanding but a superficial apprehension, and half assent, and therefore can produce in the heart but small sensibility. As hypocrites may know many things, yea, as many as the best Christian, but nothing with the clear apprehensions of an experienced man ; so may they with as many things be slightly affected, but they give deep rooting to none. To read and hear of the worth of meat and drink, may raise some esteem of them, but not such as the hungry and thirsty feel; for by feeling they know the worth thereof. To view in the map of the gospel, the precious things of Christ and his kingdom, may slightly aftect; but to thirst for, and drink of, the living waters; and to travel, to live in, to be heir of that kingdom, must needs work another kind of sensibility. It is Christ's own differencing mark, and I had rather have one from him, than from any, that the good ground give the good seed deep rooting ; but some others entertain it but into the surface of the soil, and cannot afford it depth of earth. The great things of sin, of grace, and Christ, and eternity, which are of weight, one would think, to move a rock, yet shake not the heart of the carnal professor, nor pierce his soul unto the quick ; though he should have them all ready in his brain, and be a constant preacher of them to others, yet do they little affect himself: when he is pressing them upon the hearts of others most earnestly, and crying out on the senselessness of his dull hearers, you would little think how insensible is his own soul, and the great difference between his tongue and his heart. His study and invention procure him zealous and moving expressions, but they cannot procure him answerable affections. It is true, some soft and passionate natures may have tears at command, when one that is truly gracious hath none; yet is this Christian, with dry eyes, more solidly apprehensive and deeply affected, than the other is in the midst of his tears; and the weeping hypocrite will be drawn to his sin again with a trifle, which the groaning Christian would not be hired to commit with crowns and kingdoms. What the soul is '^^^ things that the soul is thus convinced and

convinced and sen- Sensible of, are especially these in the description ''^^•^ °^ mentioned.

1. The evil of sin. The sinner is made to know 1. Oftheevlofsin. ^^^ ^^^j ^j^^^ ^^^ sin which was his delight, liis

sport, the support of his credit and estate, is indeed a more loathsome thing than toads or serpents, and a greater evil than plague or famine, or any other calamities ; it being a breach of the righteous law of the most high God, dishonourable to him, and destructive to the sinner. Now the sinner reads and hears no more the reproofs of sin, as words of course, as if the minister wanted sonae-thing to say to fill up his sermon; but when you mention his sin, and stir in his wounds, he feels you speak at his very heart, and

Chap. VIII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. HI

yet is contented you should show him the worst, and set it home, thoufjh he bear the smart. He was wont to marvel what made men keep such a stir against sin; what harm it was for a man to take a little forbidden pleasure : he saw no such heinousness in it, that Christ nuist needs die for it, and most of the world be eternally tormented in hell, lie thought this was somewhat hard measure, and greater punishment than could possibly be deserved by a little fleshly liberty, or worldly deligiit, neglect of Christ, his word, or worship; yea, by a wanton thought, a vain word, a dull duty, or cold affection. But now the case is altered : God hath opened his eyes to see that unexpressible vileness in sin, which satisfies him of the reason of all this.

2. The soul in this great work is convinced and 2. Of its own misery, sensible, as of the evil of sin, so of its own misery by reason of sin. by reason of sin. They who before read the threats of God's law, as men do the whole stories of foreign wars, or as they behold the wounds and the blood in a picture, or piece of arras, which never makes them smart or fear ; now they find it is their own story, and they perceive they read their own doom, as if they found their names written in the curse, or heard the law say, as Nathan, " Thou art the man." The wrath of God seemed to him but as a storm to a man in a dry house, or as the pains of the sick to the healthful stander-by, or as the torments of hell to a child that sees the story of Dives and Lazarus upon the wall; but now he finds the disease is his own, and feels the pain in his own bowels, and the smart of the wounds in his own soul. In a word, he finds himself a condemned man, and that he is dead and damned in point of law, and that nothing was wanting but mere execution to make him most absolutely and irrecoverably miserable. Whether you will call this a work of the law or gospel, as in several whether this be the senses it is of both ; the law expressing, and the work of the law or gospel intimating and implying, our former con- ^^"^ gospel. demnation; sure I am, it is a work of the Spirit wrought, in some measure, in all the regenerate: and though some Necessity of this do judge it unnecessary bondage, yet it is beyond sense of sin and my conceiving how he should come to Christ for ™'«ery. pardon who first found not himself guilty and condemned, or for life, who never found himself dead. " The whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." Yet I deny why some gracious not, but the discovery of the remedy as soon as souls can scarce pcr-the misery, must needs prevent a great part of the ,"arce remember, ' trouble, and make the distinct effect on the soul to this work of hum'ilia-be with much more difficulty discerned. Nay, *'°"-the actings of the soul are so quick, and oft so confused, that the distinct order of these workings may not be apprehended or remembered at all; and perhaps the joyful apprehensions of mercy may make the sense of misery the sooner forgotten.

3. So doth the Spirit also convince the soul of 3 Qf^^^^ creature's the creature's vanity and insufficiency. Every man vanity and insuffi-naturally is a flat idolater; our hearts turned from '^'"^"*'>'■

God in our first fall, and ever since the creature hath been our god. This is the grand sin of nature. When we set up to our-^ , selves a wrong end, we must needs err in all the

EveiT natural man mi ^ • .

is an idolater, and means. 1 he creature IS to every unregenerate doth not indeed take man his God and his Christ. He ascribeth to it the Lord tor his God. ^^^ -p-^-^^^ prerogatives, and alloweth it the highest room in his soul; or if ever he come to be convinced of misery, he fleeth to it as his saviour and supply. Indeed, God and.his Christ hath usually the name, and shall be still called both Lord and Saviour; but the real expectation is from the creature, and the work of God is laid upon it. How well it will perform that work the sinner must know hereafter. It is his pleasure, his profit, and his honour, that is the natural man's trinity, and his carnal self D ., . ^, , that is these in unity. Indeed, it is that flesh that

Fride IS the great . • • i -i i i ^ i i •/> i

sin against the first IS the prmcipal idol: the other three are deified menf^'''''°"''"^"''" ^" *^^^^ relation to ourselves. It was our first sin to aspire to be as gods; and it is the greatest sin that runs in our blood, and is propagated in our nature from Man naturally is his generation to generation. When God should guide own idol. xxs^ we guide ourselves; when he should be our

sovereign, we rule ourselves. The laws which he gives us, we would correct and find fault with; and if we had the making of them, we would have made them otherwise. When he should take care of us, and must, or we perish, we will care for ourselves : when we should depend on him for daily receivings, we had rather keep our stock ourselves, and have our portion in our own hands : when we should stand at his disposal, we w^ould be at our own ; and when we should submit to his providence, we usually quarrel at it; as if we knew better what is good or fit for us than he ; or how to dispose of all things more wisely : if we had the disposal of the events of wars, and the ordering of the affairs of churches and states, or the choice of our own outward condition, it would be far otherwise than now it is; and we think we could make a better disposal, order, and choice, than God hath made. This is the language of a carnal heart, though it doth not always speak out. When we should study God, we study ourselves ; when we should mind God, we mind ourselves; when we should love God, we love our carnal selves ; when we should trust God, we trust ourselves; when we should honour God, we honour ourselves; and when we should ascribe to God, and admire him, we ascribe to and admire ourselves; and, instead of God, we w^ould have all men's eyes and dependence on us, and all men's thanks returned to us, and would gladly be the only men on earth extolled and admired by all. And thus we are naturally our own idols; but down falls this Dagon, „ , when God doth once renew the soul. It is the

Kegeneration works , , . r , i , i i ^ -l • i.i

back the heart to great busmess of that great work, to brmg the

^ncetri"' Th^ '^°h' ^^'^^^ ^^^^ *° ^°^ himself. He COnvinceth the sin-creature cannot be '^ ner: 1. That the creature, of himself, can neither our God. 2. Nor be his god, to make him happy; 2. Nor yet his Christ, to recover him from his misery, and re-

store him to God, who is his happiness. This God doth, not only by preaching, but by providence also ; because words seem but wind, and will hardly take off the raging senses, therefore doth God make his rod to speak, and continue speaking, till the sinner hear, and hath learned by it this great lesson. This is the great reason why affliction doth so ordinarily concur providences, and in tbe work of conversion; these real arguments, especially afflictions, which speak to the quick, will force a hearing, 'lo usually much fur-

, ' . 1. ' , ,. , 1 ° thcr this conviction.

when the most convmcmg and powerful words are slighted. When a sinner made his credit his god, and God shall cast him into lowest disgrace; or bring him that idolized his riches into a condition wherein they cannot help him, or cause them to take wing and fly away; or the rust to corrupt, and the thief to steal his adored god in a night, or an hour; what a help is here to this work of conviction ! When a man that made his pleasure his god, whether ease, or sports, or mirth, or company, or gluttony, or drunkenness, or clothing, or buildings, or whatsoever a ranging eye, a curious ear, a raging appetite, or a lustful heart, could desire, and God shall take these from him, or give him their sting and curse with them, and turn them all into gall and wormwood ; what a help is here to this conviction! When God shall cast a man into a languishing sickness, and inflict wounds and anguish on his heart, and stir up against him his own conscience, and then, as it were, take the sinner by the hand, and lead him to credit, to riches, to pleasure, to company, to sports, or whatsoever was dearest to him, and say. Now, try if these can help you ; can these heal thy wounded conscience ? Can they now support thy tottering cottage ? Can they keep thy departing soul in thy body, or save thee from mine everlasting wrath ? Will they prove to thee eternal pleasures, or redeem thy soul from the eternal flames ? Cry aloud to them, and see now whether these will be instead of God and his Christ unto thee. Oh how this works now with the sinner ; when sense itself acknowledgeth the truth, and even the flesh is convinced of the creature's vanity, and our very deceiver is undeceived ! Now he despiseth his former idols, and calleth them all but silly comforters, wooden, earthly, dirty gods, of a few days old, and quickly perishing ; he speaketh as contemptuously of them as Baruk of the pagan idols, or our martyrs of the papists' god of bread, which was yesterday in the oven, and is to-morrow on the dunghill; he chideth himself for his former folly, and pitieth those that have no higher happiness. O poor Croesus, Caesar, Alexander, thinks he, how small, how short was your happiness ! Ah, poor wretches ! Base honours ; woeful pleasures ; sad mirth ; ignorant learning ; defiled dunghill; counterfeit righteousness ! Poor stuff to make a god of; simple things to save souls ! Woe to them that have no better a portion, no surer saviours, nor greater comforts, than these can yield, in their last and great distress and need ! In their own place they are sweet and lovely ; but in the place of God, how contemptible and abominable I They that are accounted excellent and admirable within the bounds of their own calling,

I

should they step into the throne, and usurp sovereignty, would soon, in the eyes of all, be vile and insufferable. 4. Of the need of 4. The fourth thing that the soul is convinced

Christ, and his suf- and Sensible of, is, the absolute necessity, the full ciencyan woi . sufficiency, and perfect excellency, of Jesus Christ. Q. Are not all the It is a great question, whether all the foremen-forementioned works tionecl works are uot commou, and only prepara-

common till this last ? ,. , .i ■ o mi j i

A. No. tions unto this : 1 hey are preparatives, and yet

not common; every lesser work is a preparative to the greater; and all the first works of grace, to those that follow : so faith is a preparative to our continual living in Christ, to our justification and glory. There are, indeed, common convictions, and so there is also a common believing ; but this, as in the former terms explained, is both a sanctifying and saving work; I mean a saving act of a sanctified soul, excited by the Spirit's special grace. That it precedes justification, contradicts not this; for so doth faith itself too : nor that it precedes faith, is any thing against it; for I have showed before, that it is a part of faith in the large sense: and in the strict sense taken, faith is not the first gracious act, much less that act of fiducial recumbency, which is commonly taken for the justifying act; though, indeed, it is no one single act, but many, that are the condition of justification.

This conviction is not by mere argumentation, as a man is convinced of the verity of some unconcerning consequence by dispute ; but also by the sense of our desperate misery, as a man in famine, of the necessity of food ; or a man that had read or heard his sentence of condemnation, is convinced of the absolute necessity of pardon; or as a man that lies in prison for debt, is convinced of the necessity of a surety to discharge it. Now the sinner finds himself in another case than ever he was aware of; he feels an insupportable burden upon him, and sees there is none but Christ can take it off. He perceives that he is under the wrath of God, and that the laws proclaim him a rebel and an outlaw, and none but Christ alone can make his peace : he is a man pursued by a lion, that must perish, if he find not present sanctuary. He feels the curse doth lie upon him, and upon all he hath for his sake, and Christ alone can make him blessed: he is now brought to this dilemma, either he must have Christ to justify him, or be eternally condemned; he must have Christ to save him, or burn in hell for ever; he must have Christ to bring him again to God, or be shut out of his presence everlastingly ; and now no wonder if he cry as the martyr Lambert, " None but Christ, none but Christ!" It is not gold, but bread, that will satisfy the hungry; nor any thing but pardon that will comfort the condemned. " All things are now but dross and dung," Phil. iii. 7—9 ; and what we counted gain, is now but loss in comparison of Christ: for, as the sinner seeth his utter misery, and the disability of himself and all things to relieve him, so he doth perceive that there is no saving mercy out of Christ: the truth of the threatening, and tenor of both covenants, do put him out of all such hopes. There is none found in heaven

or earth that can open the sealed hook, save the Lamh : without his hlood, there is no remission ; and without remission, there is no salvation, Rev. v. 3—G; Ileh. ix. 22; xiii. 12. Could the sinner now make any shift without Christ, or could any thing else supply his wants and save his soul, then might Christ he disregarded; but now he is convinced that there is no other name, and the necessity is absolute. Acts iv. 12.

2. And as the soul is thus convinced of the 2. Of Christ's suffi-necessity of Christ, so also of his full sufficiency. cicncy.

He sees, though the creature cannot, and himself cannot, yet Christ can. Though the fig-leaves of our own unrighteous righteousness are too short to cover our nakedness, yet the righteousness of Christ is large enough : ours is disproportionable to the justice of the law, but Christ's dotli extend to every tittle. If he intercede, there is no denial ; such is the dignity of his person, and the value of his merits, that the Father granteth all he desireth : he tells us himself, " that the Father heareth him always," John xi. 42. His sufferings being a perfect satisfaction to the law, and all power in heaven and earth being given to him, he is now able to supply every of our wants, and to save to the uttermost all that come to him, Heb. vii. 25.

Quest. How can I know his death is sufficient for me, if not for all; and how is it sufficient for all, if not suffered for all ?

Ansiv. Because I will not interrupt my present discourse with controversy, I will say something to this question by itself in another tract, if God enable me.

3. The soul is also convinced of the perfect ex- 3. And of his excel-cellency of Jesus Christ, both as he is considered l^ncy.

in himself, and as considered in relation to us; both as he is the only way to the Father, and as he is the End, being one with the Father. Before, he knew Christ's excellency as a blind man knows the light of the sun; but now, as one that beholdeth his glory.

And thus doth the Spirit convince the soul.

Sect. IV. 3. After this sensible conviction the Of the change of the will discovereth also its change, and that in regard "'U and affections of all the four foreinentioned objects.

1. The sin which the understanding pronounceth 1. it tumeth from sm evil, the will doth accordingly turn from with ab- with abhorrency. horrency. Not that the sensitive appetite is changed, or any way made to abhor its object: but when it would prevail against the conclusions of reason, and carry us to sin against God, when Scripture should be the rule, and reason the master, and sense the servant; this disorder and evil the will abhorreth.

2, The misery also which sin hath procured, as 2. Abhorreth and la-he disccrneth, so he bewaileth. It is impossible menteth its miserable that the soul now living, should look either on its *'*"^

trespass against God, or yet on its own self-procured calamity, without some compunction and contrition. He that truly discerneth that he hath killed Christ, and killed himself, will surely, in some

I 2

measure, be pricked to the heart. If he cannot weep, he can heartily groan ; and his heart feels what his understanding sees. 3. Renounccthallhis 3. The creature he now renounceth as vain, former idokauJ^^^ ^nd tumeth it out of his heart with disdain. directly against'cod,' Not that he undervalueth it, or disclaimeth its as God. Secondly, ^gg; but its idolatrous abuse, and its uniust

directly only against ,.

his laws. usurpation.

Of the first sort is There is a twofold sin :* one against God him-

only gross idolatry. gelf^ as well as his laws, when he is cast out of the heart, and something else doth take his place. This is that I intend in this place. The other is when a man doth take the Lord for his God, but yet swerveth in some things from his commands : of this before. It is a vain distinction that some make, that the soul must be turned first from sin ; secondly, from the creature to God: for the sin that is thus set up against God, is the choice of something below in his stead; and no creature in itself is evil, but the abuse of it is the sin; therefore, to turn from the creature, is only to turn from that sinful abuse.

In what sense we turn Yet hath the creaturc a twofold consideration: from the creature, fij-gt^ as it is vain and insufficient to perform what the idolater expecteth, and so I handle it here; secondly, as it is the object of such sinful abuse, and the occasion of sin; and so it falls under the former branch of our turning from sin, and in this sense their division may be granted. But this is only a various respect; for, indeed, it is still only our sinful abuse of the creature, in our vain admirations, undue estimations, too strong affections, and false expectations, which we turn from.

A twofold error in the ^ There is a twofold error very common in the descriptions of con- description of the work of conversion : the one, version. . .of those who Only mention the sinner's turning

Our turning irom sin, . ^-^ i • i • • • •

is as essential to true irom sm to God, Without mentioning any receiving S'lrchris"^''' °^ Christ by faith; the other, of those who, on the contrary, only mention a sinner's believing, and then think they have said all: nay, they blame them as legalists, who make any thing but the bare believing of the love of God in Christ to us, to be part of the work, and would persuade poor souls to question all their former comforts, and conclude the work to have been only legal and unsound, because they have made their changes of heart, and turning from sin and creatures, part of it, and have taken up part of their comfort from the reviewing of these as evidences of right work. Indeed, should they take up here without Christ, or take such a change instead of Christ, in whole or in part, the reprehension were just, and the danger great. But can Christ be the way, where the creature is the end ? Is he not the only way to the Father ? And must not a right end be intended

* Tills sin directly against God himself, as it is in the understanding and speech, is called blasphemy ; but as it is in the judgment, will, affections, and action altogether, it is called idolatry, or atheism. Great Athanasius approves of this distinction of sin, in his judicious Discourse of the Sin against the Holy Ghost. He saith, between sin in the general, and blasphemy, this is the difference—" He that sinneth, transgresseth the law ; he that blasphemeth, committeth impiety against the Godhead itself."

before right means ? Can we seek to Christ to reconcile us to God, while in our hearts we prefer the creature before him i Or doth God dispossess the' creature, and sincerely turn the heart therefrom, when he will not bring the soul to Christ ? Is it a work that is ever wrought in an unrenewed soul '. You will say, that " without faith it is impossible to please God."* True, but what faith doth the apostle there speak of " He that cometh to God, must believe that God is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." The belief of the Godhead must needs precede the belief of the Mediatorship ; and the taking of the Lord for our God, must in order precede the taking of Christ for our Saviour, though our peace with God do follow this. Therefore Paul, when he was to deal with the Athenian idolaters, teacheth them the knowledge of the Godhead first, and the Mediator afterwards. But you will say, May not an unregenerate man believe that there is a God ? True, and so may he also believe that there is a Christ: but he cannot more cordially accept of the Lord for his God, than he can accept of Christ for his Saviour. In the soul of every unregenerate man, the creature possesseth both places, and a flat necessity both is both God and Christ. Can Christ be believed of coming to God as in, where our own righteousness or any other thing f:jfCi t°o"cE is trusted as our Saviour ? Or doth God ever as the way to the thoroughly discover sin and misery, and clearly ^'^♦^'i<=''. take the heart from all creatures, and self-righteousness, and yet leave the soul unrenewed ? The truth is, where the work is sincere, there it is entire ; and all these parts are truly wrought : and as turning from the creature to God, and not by Christ, is no true turning; so believing in Christ, while the creature hath our hearts, is no true believing. And therefore in the work of self-examination, whoever would find in himself a thorough sincere work, must find an entire work ; even the one of these as well as the other. In the review of which entire work there is no doubt but his soul may take comfort. And it is not to be made so light of, as most do, nor put by with a wet finger, that Scripture doth so ordinarily put repentance before faith, and make them, jointly, conditions of the gospel: which repentance contains those acts of the will's aversion from sin and creatures, before expressed. It is true, if we take faith in the largest sense of all,t then it contains repentance in it; but if we take it strictly, no doubt there are some acts of it go before repentance, and some follow after.

Yet it is not of much moment which of the acts which part of this before mentioned we shall judge to precede, whe- turning goes first. ther our aversion from sin, and renouncing our idols, or our right receiving Christ, seeing it all composeth but one work, which God doth ever perfect where he beginneth but one step, and layeth but

* Heb. xi. 16. Besides, though the person please not God, nor his actions, 8o as for God to justify them, or to take delight in them as gracious ; jet some actions of wicked men, tending to reformation, may please God in some respect, secundum quid ; as Ahab's humiliation.

t As it is put for all obedience to the commands proiier to the gospel.

one stone in sincerity; and the moments of time can be but few that interpose between the several acts.

If any object, That every grace is received from Christ, and therefore must follow our receiving him by faith,

I answer, There be receivings from Christ before believing, and before our receiving of Christ himself. Such is all that work of the Spirit, that brings the soul to Christ; and there is a passive receiving of grace before the active. Both power and act of faith are in order of nature before Christ, actually received; and the power of all other gracious acts, is as soon as that of faith. Though Christ give pardon and salvation, upon condition of believing; yet he gives not (in the first degree) a new heart, a soft heart, and faith itself, nor the first true repentance, on that condition; no more than he gives the preaching of the gospel, the Spirit's motion to believe, &c. upon a prerequisite condition of believing. 4 ,, .„ , Sect. V. 4. And as the will is thus averted from

As the will turns , . , , . ■. , ■ .

from evil, so at the the torenientioncd objects, so, at the same time, same time to God, | ^j^ ^^ cleave to God the Father, and to Christ.

aud the Mediator. , ^ • • n p , • ^ i ^i.

1. To the Godhead Its first acting in order oi nature, is toward the in order of nature. whole Divine essence ; and it consists, especially, in intending and desiring God for his portion and chief good: having been convinced that nothing else can be his happiness, he now finds it is in God, and therefore looks towards it. But it is yet rather with desire than hope; for, alas ! the sinner hath already found himself to be a stranger and enemy to God, under the guilt of sin and curse of his law, and knows there is no coming to him in peace till his case be altered ; and, therefore, having before been convinced, also, that only Christ is able and willing to do this, and having heard his mercy in the gospel freely offered, his next act is, secondly, to accept of Christ for Saviour and Lord. I put the

2. To the Mediator former before this, because the ultimate end is as the way; which is necessarily the first intended, and the Divine ^y ^^^^^ essence is principally that ultimate end, John xiv. 6; yet not excluding the human nature in the second person : but Christ, as Mediator, is the way to that end; and, throughout the gospel, is offered to us in such terms as import his being the means of making us happy in God. And though that former act of the soul toward the Godhead, be not said to justify as this last doth, yet is it, I think, as proper to the people of God as this; nor can any man, unregenerate, truly choose God for his Lord, his portion, and chief good : therefore do they both mistake; they who only mention our turning to Christ, and they who only mention our turning to God, in this work of conversion, as is touched before. Paul's preaching was " repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ," Acts xx. 21; v. 31; xi. 18; xxvi. 20. And life eternal consists, first, in knowing the only true God, and then Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent, John xvii. 3. The former is the natural part of the covenant, to take the Lord only for our God ; the latter is the supernatural part, to take Christ only for our Redeemer. The former is first necessary, and implied in the latter.

Thougli repentance and good works, &c. are re- ■^^^^^ justifying quired to our full justification, at judgment, as faith is. Its proper subservient to, or concurrent with, faith ; yet is the l"^;:'j,;';"Xcr'"" nature of this justifying faith itself contained in assent, and in this accepting of Christ for Saviour and Lord ; and I think it necessarily contains all this in it: some place it in the assenting act only, some in a fiducial adherence, or recumbency ; I call it accepting, it being principally an act of the will; but yet also of the whole soul. This accepting being that which the gospel presseth to, and calleth the receiving or accepting Christ: I call it an aftectionate accepting, though love seem another act quite distinct from faith, and if you take faith for assent only, so it is; yet I take it as essential to that faith which justifies. To accept Christ without love, is not justifying faith. Nor doth love follow as a fruit, but immediately concur; nor concur as a mere concomitant, but essential to a true accepting. For this faith is the receiving of Christ, either with the whole soul, or with part; not with part only, for that is but a partial receiving : and most clearly, divines of late conclude, that justifying faith resides both in the understanding and the will; therefore, in the whole soul; and so cannot be one single act. I add, it is the most affectionate accepting of Christ; because he that loves father, mother, or any thing more than him, is not worthy of him, nor can be his disciple, Luke xiv. 26 ; and consequently not justified by him. And the truth of this affection is not to be judged so much by feeling the pulse of it, as by comparing it with our affection to other things. He that lovetli nothing so much as Christ, doth love him truly, though he find cause still to bewail the coldness of his affections. I make Christ himself the object of his accepting, it being not any theological axiom concerning himself, but himself in person. 1 call it an accepting him for Saviour and Lord. For in both relations will he be received, or not at all. It is not only to acknowledge his sufferings, and accept of pardon and glory, but to acknowledge his sovereignty, and submit to his government, and way of saving ; and I take all this to be contained in justifying faith. The vilest sinner among us w ill accept of Christ to justify and save him, if that only would serve the turn to his justification.

The work (which Christ, thus accepted of, is to y^y^^^^ q^^^.^^^ j^jj^ perform) is, to bring the sinners to God, that they fur us upon our ac-may be happy in him : and this both really by his ceptance. Spirit, and relatively in reconciling them, and making them sons; and to present them perfect before him at last, and to possess them of the kingdom. This wall Christ perform : and the obtaining of these, are the sinner's lawful ends in receiving Christ; and to these uses doth he offer himself unto us.

5. To this end doth the sinner now enter into a • ■ i

cordial covenant with Christ. As the preceptive chrrsu" a"fessential part is called the covenant, so he might be under part of actual con-the covenant before, as also under the offers of a c^hrist'laniu-." covenant on God's part. But he was never strictly

nor comfortably in covenant with Christ till now. He is sure by the free offers, that Christ doth consent, and now doth he cordially consent himself; and so the agreement is fully made; and it never was a match indeed till now.

6. With this covenant concurs a mutual delivery; ^trhimselt'tofhT'"' Christ delivereth himself in all comfortable rela-sinner, and he de- tions to the sinner, and the sinner delivereth up to cw'""'""'"^ himself to be saved and ruled by Christ. This which I call the delivering of Christ, is his act in and by the gospel; without any change in himself. The change is only in the sinner to whom the conditional promises become equivalent to absolute, when they perform the conditions. Now doth the soul resolvedly conclude, I have been blindly led by the flesh and lust, and the world, and the devil, too long already, almost to my utter destruction; I will now be wholly at the disposal of my Lord, who hath bought me with his blood, and will bring me to his glory. And thus the complete work of saving faith consisteth in this covenanting, or mystical marriage, of the sinner to Christ. Lastly, The believer 7. And lastly, I add, that the believer doth persevereth in this herein pcrscvere to the end: though he mav com-

covenant, and all the •. • i t i • ,i i • t i ,1

forementioned ^uit sins, he never clisciaimeth his Lord, renounceth

grounds ofit, to the his allegiance, nor recalleth nor repenteth of his covenant, nor can be properly said to break that covenant, while that faith continues which is the condition of it. Indeed, those that have verbally covenanted, and not cordially, may yet tread under foot the blood of the covenant as an unholy thing (Heb. x. 29; Matt. xxiv. 13; Rev. ii. 26, 27; iii. 11, 12 ; John XV. 4—6, 9; viii. 31; Col. i. 23; Rom. xii. 22), wherewith they were sanctified by separation from those without the church ; but the elect cannot be so deceived. Though this perseverance be certain to true believers; yet it is made a condition of their salvation, yea, of their continued life and fruitfulness, and of the continuance of their justification, though not of their first justification itself. But eternally blessed be that hand of love, which hath drawn the free promise, and subscribed and sealed to that which ascertains us, both of the grace which is the condition, and the kingdom on that condition offered.

The application of ^^^^^ ^^- ^^^ ^hus you have a naked enumera-

this description by tion of the essentials of this people of God : not a way of examination, f^^i portraiture of them in all their excellences, nor all the notes whereby they be discerned; both which were beyond my present purpose. And though it will be part of the following application, to put you upon trial; yet because the description is now before your eyes, and these evidencing works are fresh in your memory, it will not be unseasonable nor unprofitable for you, to take an account of your own estates, and to view yourselves exactly in this glass, before you pass on any further. And I beseech thee, reader, as thou hast the hope of a Christian, yea, or the reason of a man, to deal thoroughly, and search carefully, and judge thyself as one that must shortly be judged by the righteous God; and

faithfully answer to these few questions which I shall here propound.

I will not inquire, whether thou remember the time or the order of those workings of the Spirit : there may be much uncertainty and mistake in that : but I desire thee to look into thy soul, and see whether thou find such works wrought within thee; and then, if thou be sure they are there, the matter is not so great, though thou know not when or how thou camest by them.

And first, hast thou been thoroughly convinced of a universal depravation, through thy whole soul; and a universal wickedness through thy whole life ; and how vile a thing this sin is ; and that by the tenor of that covenant which thou hast transgressed, the least sin deserves eternal death ? Dost thou consent to this law, that it is true and righteous ? Hast thou perceived thyself sentenced to this death by it, and been convinced of thy natural, undone condition ? Hast thou further seen the utter insufficiency of every creature, either to be itself thy happiness, or the means of curing this thy misery, and making thee happy again in God ? Hast thou been convinced, that thy happiness is only in God as the end; and only in Christ as the way to him, and the end also as he is one with the Father; and perceived that thou nmst be brought to God by Christ, or perish eternally ? Hast thou seen hereupon an absolute necessity of the enjoying Christ ; and the full sufficiency that is in him, to do for thee whatsoever thy case requireth, by reason of the fulness of his satisfaction, the greatness of his power, and dignity of his person, and the freeness and indefinite-ness of his promises ? Hast thou discovered the excellency of this pearl, to be worth thy selling all to buy it ? Hath all this been joined with some sensibility; as the convictions of a man that thirsteth, of the worth of drink; and not been only a change in opinion, produced by reading or education, as a bare notion in the understanding ? Hath it proceeded to an abhorring that sin; I mean in the bent and prevailing inclination of thy will, though the flesh do attempt to reconcile thee to it ? Have both thy sin and misery been a burden to thy soul; and if thou couldst not weep, yet couldst thou heartily groan under the insupportable weight of both ? Hast thou renounced all thine own righteousness ? Hast thou turned thy idols out of thy heart; * so that the creature hath no more the sovereignty, but is now a servant to God and to Christ ? Dost thou accept of Christ as thy only Saviour, and expect thy justification, recovery, and glory, from him alone ? Dost thou take him also for Lord and King ? And are his laws the most powerful commanders of thy life and soul ? Do they ordinarily prevail against the commands of the flesh, of Satan, of the greatest on earth that shall countermand ; and against the greatest interest of thy credit, profit, pleasure, or life ; so that thy conscience is direct-

* In one -word, the rerj' nature of sinceritj' lieth in this ; when Christ hath more actual interest in thy heart, esteem, and will, than the flesh ; or when Christ hath the supremacy or sovereignty in the soul; so that his interest prevaileth against the interest of the flesh. Try by this as an infallible mark of grace.

ly subject to Christ alone ? Hath he the highest room in thy heart and affections; so that though thou canst not love him as thou wouldst, yet nothing else is loved so much ? Hast thou made a hearty covenant * to this end with him ; and delivered up thyself accordingly to him ; and takest thyself for his and not thine own ? Is it thy utmost care and watchful endeavour, that thou mayst be found faithful in this covenant; and though thou fall into sin, yet wouldst not renounce thy bargain, nor change thy Lord, nor give up thyself to any other government, for all the world ? If this be truly thy case, thou art one of these people of God w hich my text speaks of; and as sure as the promise of God is true, this blessed rest remains for thee. Only see thou abide in Christ, and continue to the end ; for if any draw back, his soul will have no pleasure in them. But if all this be contrary with thee, or if no such work be found within thee, but thy soul be a stranger to all this, and thy conscience tell thee, it is none of thy case ; the Lord have mercy on thy soul, and open thine eyes, and do this great work upon thee, and by his mighty power overcome thy resistance: for f in the case thou art in, there is no hope. Whatever thy deceived heart may think, or how strong soever thy false hopes be, or though now a little w'hile thou flatter thy soul in confidence and security ; yet wilt thou shortly find to thy cost, except thy thorough conversion do prevent it, that thou art none of these people of God, and the rest of the saints belongs not to thee. Thy dying hour draws near apace, and so doth that great day of separation, when God will make an everlasting difference between his people and his enemies : then woe, and for ever w^oe to thee, if thou be found in the state that thou art now in, Deut. xxxii. 25. Thy own tongue will then proclaim thy woe, w ith a thousand times more dolour and vehemence, than mine can possibly do it now. Oh that thou wert wise to consider this, and that thou wouldst remember thy latter end! That yet while thy soul is in thy body, and a price in thy hand, and day-light, and opportunity, and hope, before thee, thine ears might be open to instruction, and thy heart might yield to the persuasions of God ; and thou mightest bend all the powers of thy soul about this great work; that so thou mightest rest among his people, and enjoy the inheritance of the saints in light! And thus I have showed you who these people of God are. Why called the Sect. VII. And why are they called the people

people of God. ^f Qq^ 7 You may easily from what is said discern the reasons.

, „ , . 1. They are the people whom he hath chosen to

1. By election. , . -ir r . ■.

himself from eternity. 2. Special redemp- 2. And whom Christ hath redeemed with an tion. absolute intent of saving them ; which cannot be

said of any other.

* "Whether thy infant baptism will serve or no, I am assured thy infant covenant will not now serve thy turn; but tliou must actually enter covenant in thy own person. John XV. 4—G ; Matt. xxiv. 13 ; Heb. x. 38, 39.

t I speak not this to the dark and clouded Christian, who cannot discern tliat which is indeed within him.

^ -., .. 3. Whom hfi hath also renewed by the power of

3. Likeness to him. i . , i ,i - ii ^

his grace, and made them m some sort like to himself, stamping his own image on them, and making them holy, as he is holy, 1 Pet. i. 10. . ,. ,, 4. They are those whom he emhraceth with a

4. Mutuallove. t i i i • i i • i n

peculiar love, and do again love him above all.

5. Mutual cove 5. They are entered into a strict and mutual

nantiug. covenant, wherein it is agreed for the Lord to be

their God, and they to be his people. ... , . 6. They are brought into near relation to him,

G. Near relation. ^ i i • ^ i • i ii i

even to be his servants, his sons, and the members and spouse of his Son.

7. Future cohabit- 7. And lastly, they must live with him for ever, ^''on and be perfectly blessed in enjoying his love, and

beholding his glory. And I think these are reasons sufficient, why they peculiarly should be called his people.

THE CONCLUSION.

And thus I have explained to you the subject of my text; and showed you darkly, and in part, what this rest is; and briefly who are this people of God. Oh that the Lord would now open your eyes, and your hearts, to discern and be affected with the glory revealed ! that he would take off your hearts from these dunghill delights, and ravish them with the views of these everlasting pleasures ! that he would bring you into the state of this holy and heavenly people, for whom alone this rest remaineth ! that you would exactly try yourselves by the foregoing description ! that no soul of you might be so damnably deluded, as to take your natural or acquired parts for the characters of a saint! Oh happy and thrice happy you, if these sermons might have such success with your souls, that so you might die the death of the righteous, and your last end might be like his ! For this blessed issue, as I here gladly wait upon you in preaching, so will I also wait upon the Lord in praying.

PART II.

CONTAINING

THE PROOFS OF THE TRUTH AND CERTAIN FUTURITY OF OUR REST ; AND THAT THE SCRIPTURE PROMISING THAT REST TO US, IS THE PERFECT INFALLIBLE WORD AND LAW OF GOD.

CHAPTER I.

Confirmation from Sect. I. We are next to proceed to the con-

other Scriptures. firmation of this truth, which, though it may seem needless in regard of its own clearness and certainty, yet in regard of our distance and infidelity nothing more necessary: but, you will say, to whom will this endeavour be useful ? They who believe the Scriptures are convinced already ; and for those who believe it not, how will you convince them ? Answ. But sad experience tells. The truth confirmed that those that believe, do believe but in part, from other Scrip- and, therefore, have need of further confirmation; *"'^*^ and, doubtless, God hath left us arguments suffi-

cient to convince unbelievers themselves, or else how should we preach to pagans ; or what should we say to the greatest part of the world, that acknowledge not the Scriptures ? Doubtless the gospel should be preached to them ; and though we have not the gift of miracles to convince them of the truth, as the apostles had, yet we have arguments demonstrative and clear, or else our preaching would be in vain ; we having nothing left but bare affirmations.

Though I have all along confirmed sufficiently by testimony of Scripture what I have said, yet I will here briefly add thus much more, that the Scripture doth clearly assert this truth in these six ways.

1 Affi in the ^' ^^ affirms, that this rest is fore-ordained for

saints to have been the saints, and the saints also fore-ordained to it. predestinated to this « God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he hath prepared for them a city," Heb. xi. 16. " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived, what God hath prepared for them that love him," 1 Cor. ii. 9. Which I conceive must be meant of these preparations in heaven; for those on earth are both seen and conceived, or else how are they enjoyed ? To sit on Christ's right and left hand in his kingdom, shall be given to them for whom it is prepared, Matt. xx. 23. And themselves are called " vessels of mercy, before prepared unto glory," Rom. ix. 23. And in Christ we have obtained the inheritance, "being predestinated according to the purpose of Him who

worketh all things after the counsel of his own will," Eph. i. 11. " And whom he thus predcstinateth, them he glorifieth," Rom. viii. 30; " For he hath, from the heginning, chosen them to salvation, through sanctification of the Spirit, and belief of the truth," 2 Thess. ii. 13.

And though the intentions of the unwise and weak may be frustrated, and " without counsel purposes are disappointed," Prov. XV. 22; yet " the thoughts of the Lord shall surely come to pass ; and as he hath purposed it shall stand," Isa. xiv. 24. " The counsel of the Lord standeth for ever, and the thoughts of his heart to all generations," therefore, " blessed are they whose God is the Lord, and the people whom he hath chosen for his own inheritance," Psal. xxxiii. 11, 12. Who can bereave his people of that rest which is designed them by God's eternal purpose ?

Sect. IL Secondly: The Scripture tells us that 2. That it is procured this rest is purchased, as well as purposed for for them by the blood them ; or that they are redeemed to this rest. In "^ Chnst. what sense this may be said to be purchased by Christ, I have showed before, viz. not as the immediate work of his suflferings, which was the immediate payment of our debt, by satisfying the law, but as a more remote, though most excellent fruit; even the effect of that power, which by his death he procured to himself. He himself, for the suffering of death, was crowned with glory, yet did he not properly die for himself, nor was that the direct effect "of his death. Some of those teachers who are gone forth of late, do tell us, as a piece of their new discoveries, that Christ never purchased life and salvation for us, but purchased us to life and salvation: * not understanding that they affirm and deny the same thing in several expressions. What difference is there betwixt buying liberty to the prisoner, and buying the prisoner to liberty ? betwixt buying life to a condemned malefactor, and buying him to life ? or betwixt purchasing reconciliation to an enemy, and purchasing an enemy to reconciliation !" but in this last they have found a difference, and tell us that God never was at enmity with man, but man at enmity with God, and therefore need not be reconciled : directly contrary to Scripture, which tells us that God hateth all the workers of iniquity, and that he is their enemy, Exod. xxiii. 22; Psal. xi. 5; v. 5; Isa. Ixiii. 10; Lam. ii. 5: and though there be no change in God, nor any thing properly called hatred, yet it sufficeth that there is a change in the sinner's relation, and that there is something in God which cannot better be expressed or conceived than by these terms of enmity and hatred : and the enmity of the law against a sinner, may well be called the enmity of God. However, this differenceth betwixt enmity in God, and enmity in us ; but not betwixt the sense of the foremen-tioned expressions : so that whether you will call it purchasing life for us, or purchasing us to life, the sense is the same, viz. by satisfying the law, and removing impediments, to procure us the title and possession of this life. * I confess the latter is the more proper expression, and oftener used in the Scriptures.

It is, then, by the " blood of Jesus that we have entrance into the holiest," Heb. x. 19 ; even all our entrance to the fruition of God, both that by faith and prayer here, and that by full possession hereafter. Therefore do the saints sing forth his praises, " who hath redeemed them out of every nation by his blood, and made them kings and priests to God," Rev. v. 10.

Whether that e»s cnrokvTpwaiv Tj^9 7r£/}t7rot)Jo6w?, in Eph. i. 14, which is translated " the redemption of the purchased possession," do prove this or not; yet I see no appearance of truth in their exposition of it, who, because they deny that salvation is purchased by Christ, do affirm that it is Christ himself who is there called the purchased possession. Therefore did God give his Son, and the Son give his life, and therefore was Christ lifted up on the cross, " as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life," John iii, 15, 16. So, then, I conclude either Christ must lose his blood and suiferings, and " never see of the travail of his soul," Isa. liii. 11, but all his pains and expectation be frustrate, or else there re-maineth a rest to the people of God.

3. It is promised to Sect. III. Thirdly: And as this rest is pur-them. chased for us, so is it also promised to us ; as the

firmament with the stars, so are the sacred pages bespangled with the frequent intermixture of these Divine engagements. Christ hath told us that " it is his will, that those who are given to him should be where he is, that they may behold the glory which is given him of the Father," John xvii. 24 : so also, " Fear not, little flock ; it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom," Luke xii. 32 ; q. d. fear not all your enemy's rage, fear not all your own unworthiness, doubt not of the certainty of the gift; for it is grounded upon the good pleasure of your Father. " I appoint to you a kingdom, as my Father hath appointed unto me a kingdom, that ye may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom," Luke xxii. 29. But because I will not be tedious in the needless confirming of an acknowledged truth, I refer you to the places here cited, 2 Thess. i. 7; Heb. iv. 1, 3; Matt. xxv. 34; xiii. 43; 2 Tim. iv. 18; James ii. 5 ; 2 Pet. i. 11; 2 Thess. i. 5 ; Acts xiv. 22 ; Luke vi. 20; xiii. 28, 29; 1 Thess. ii. 12; Matt. v. 12; Mark x. 21 ; xii. 25 ; 1 Pet. i. 4; Heb. x. 34; xii. 23; Col. i. 5; Phil. iii. 20; Heb. xi. 16; Eph. i. 20 ; 1 Cor. xv.; Rev. ii. 7, 11, 17, &c.

Sect. IV. Fourthly : All the means of grace, motTot"?owardrl and all the workings of the Spirit upon the soul, do prove that there and all the gracious actions of the saints, are so is such an end. ^^^^ evident mediums to prove that there re-

maineth a rest to the people of God. If it be an undeniable maxim that God and nature do nothing in vain, then it is as true of God and his grace. All these means and motions imply some end to which they tend, or else they cannot be called means, nor are they the motions of wisdom or reason : and no lower end than this " rest" can be imagined. God would never have commanded his people to repent and believe, to fast and pray, to knock and

seek, and that continually, to read and study, to confer and meditate, to strive and labour, to run and light, and all this to no purpose. Nor would the Spirit of (iod work them to this, and create in them a supernatural power, and enable them and excite them to a constant performance, were it not for this end whereto it leads us. Nor could the saints reasonably attempt such euiploynients, nor yet undergo so heavy sufferings, were it not for this desirable end. But whatsoever the folly of man might do, certainly Divine wisdom cannot be guilty of setting to work such fruitless motions. Therefore, whatever I read of duty required, whenever I find the grace bestowed, I take it as so many promises of rest. The Spirit would never kindle in us such strong desires after heaven, nor such a love to Jesus Christ, if we should not receive that which we desire and love. He that sets our feet in the way of peace will, undoubtedly, bring us to the end of peace, Luke i. 79. How nearly are the means and end conjoined ! Matt. xi. 12, " The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force ;" or, as Luke xvi. 10, " every man presseth into it:" so that the violent apprehends the kingdom.* Those whom he causeth to follow him in the regeneration, he will sure provide them thrones of judgment, Matt. xix. 28.

5. So do (he begin- Sect. V. Fifthly: Scripture further assures us nings, foretastes, that the saints have the beginnings, foretastes, earnests, and seals, gamests, and seals of this rcst here : and may not all this assure them of the full possession ? The very kingdom of God is within them, Luke xvii. 21. They here, as is before said, take it by force, they have a beginning of that knowledge which Christ hath said is eternal life, John xvii. 3. I have fully manifested that before, that the rest and glory of the people of God doth consist in their knowing, loving, rejoicing, .md praising; and all these are begun, though but begun, here : therefore, doubtless, so much as we here know of God, so much as we love, rejoice, and praise, so much we have of heaven on earth, so much we enjoy of the rest of souls. And do you think that God will give the beginning where he never intends to give the end ? Nay, God doth give his people oftentimes such foresights and foretastes of this same rest, that their spirits are even transported with it, and they could heartily wish they might be present there. Paul is taken up into the third heaven, and seeth things that must not be uttered. The saints are kept by the power of God through faith unto that salvation, ready to be revealed in the last time, wherein they can greatly rejoice, even in temptations, 1 Pet. i. 5, G : and therefore the apostle also tells us, that they who now see not Christ, nor ever saw him, yet love him, and believing do rejoice in him with joy unspeakable and full of glory ; receiving the end of their faith, the salvation of their souls, I Pet. i. 8, 9. Observe here, first, how

* Mr. Burroughs thinks this is meant of the violence of persecution, but Luke's phrase confutcth that : the sense is, that the door being now set open, he that will crowd in first, doth get possession ; as the crowd or common people did, while the rulers that pretended to the chief title, stood without the dooi-s, or by unbelief refused to enter.

God gives his people this foretasting joy : secondly, how this joy is said to be full of glory, and therefore must needs be a beginning of the glory : thirdly, how immediately upon this there follows " receiving the end of their faith, the salvation of the soul." And Paul also brings in the justified " rejoicing in hope of the glory of God," Rom. v. 2. And I doubt not, but some poor Christians among us, who have little to boast of appearing without, have often these foretastes in their souls. And do you think that God will tantalize his people ? Will he give them the first-fruits and not the crop ? Doth he show them glory to set them a longing, and then deny the actual fruition ? Or doth he lift them up so near this rest, and give them such rejoicings in it, and yet never bestow it on them ? It cannot be. Nay, doth he give them the " earnest of the inheritance," Eph. i. 14; and " seal them with the Holy Spirit of promise," Eph. i. 13 ; and yet will he deny the full possession ? These absurdities may not be charged on an ordinary man, much less on the faithful and righteous God.

6. Some have enter- Sect. VI. Sixthly, and lastly : The Scripture ed it already. mentioneth particularly and by name, those who entered into this rest, as Enoch, who was taken up to God. So Abraham, Lazarus, and the thief that was crucified with Christ, &c. And if there be a rest for these, sure there is a rest for all believers. But it is vain to heap up Scripture proof, seeing it is the very end of the Scripture, to be a guide to lead us to this blessed state, and to discover it to us, and persuade us to seek it in the prescribed way, and to acquaint us with the hinderances that would keep us from it, and to be the charter and grant by which we hold all our title to it. So that our rest, and thereby God's glory, is, to the Scripture, as the end is to the way, which is frequently expressed and implied through the whole. There is no one that doubts of the certainty of this promised glory, but only they that doubt of the truth of the Scripture, or else know not what it containeth. And because I find that most temptations are resolved into this, and that there is so much unbelief even in true believers, and that the truth and strength of our belief of Scripture hath an exceeding great influence into all our graces, I shall briefly say something for your confirmation in this.

CHAPTER II.

MOTIVES TO STUDY AND PREACH THE DIVINE AUTHORITY OF SCRIPTURE.

Sect. I. Thus much may suffice where the Scripture is believed, to confirm the truth of the point in hand, viz. the certain futurity of the saints' rest. And for pagans and infidels who believe not Scripture, it is besides the intention of this discourse to endeavour

their conviction, I am eniloavourin<^ the consolation and edification of saints, and not the information and conversion of pagans. Yet do I acknowledge the subject exceeding necessary, even to the saints themselves; for Satan's assaults are oft made at the foundation ; and if he can porsuade them to question the verity of Scripture, they will soon cast away their hopes of heaven.

15ut if I should here enter upon that task, to prove that Scripture to be the infallible word of God, I should make too broad a digression, and set upon a work as large as that, for the sake whereof I should undertake it; neither am I insensible of how great difficulty it would prove to manage it satisfactorily, and how much more than my ability is thereto requisite.

Yet, lest the tempted Christian should have no relief, nor any argument at hand against the temptation, I will here lay down some few, not intending it as a full resolution of that great question, but as a competent help to the weak, that have no time nor ability to read larger volumes. And I the rather am induced to it, because the success of all the rest that I have written depends upon this; no man will love, desire, study, labour for that which he believeth not to be attainable. And in such supernatural points, we must first apprehend the truth of the revelation, before we can well believe the truth of the thing revealed. And I desire the Lord to persuade the hearts of some of his choicest servants in these times, whom he hath best furnished for such a work, to undertake the complete handling of it; to persuade them to which, I will here annex, first, some considerations, which also are the reasons of this brief attempt of my own, and may also serve to persuade all ministers to bestow a little more pains, in a seasonable grounding their hearers in this so great and needful a point, by a more frequent and clear discovery of the verity of the Scripture, though some, that know not what they say, may tell them that it is needless.*

1, Of what exceeding great necessity is it to the salvation of ourselves and hearers, to be soundly persuaded of the truth of Scripture ! As God's own veracity is the prime foundation of our faith, from which particular axioms receive their verity, so the Scripture is the principal foundation quoad patrefaciionem, revealing to us what is of God, without which revelation it is impossible to believe. And should not the foundation be both timely and soundly laid ?

2. The learned divines of these latter times have, in most points of doctrine, done better than any, since the apostles, before them ; and have much advantaged the church thereby, and advanced sacred knowledge. And should we not endeavour it in this point if possible above all, when yet the ancients were more frequent and full in it, for the most part, than we ? I know there are many excellent treatises already extant on this subject, and such as I doubt not may convince gainsayers, and much strengthen the weak ; but yet, doubtless, much more may be done for the clearing this weighty and needful point. Our great divines have said almost

* I have since written a supplement to this second part, called " The Unreasonableness of Infidelity."

as much against papists in this, as need to be said, especially Cha-mier, and our Robert Baronius, Whitaker, Reignoldus, &c. But is not most of their industry there bestowed, while they put oiF the atheist, the Jew, and other infidels, with a few pages or none ? And so the great master-sin of infidelity in the souls of men, whereof the best Christians have too great a share, is much neglected, and the very greatest matter of all overlooked. Grotius, Morney, and Camero, above others, have done well; but if God would stir them up to this work, I doubt not but some, by the help of all foregoers, and especially improving antiquities, might do it more completely than any have yet done ; which I think would be as acceptable a piece of service to the church as ever by human industry was performed.

3. And I fear the course that too many divines take this way, by resolving all into the testimony of the Spirit, in a mistaken sense, hath much wronged the Scripture and church of God, and much hardened pagans and atheists against the truth. I know that the illumination of the Spirit is necessary: a special illumination for the begetting of a special saving belief, and a common illumination for a common belief. But this is not so properly called the testimony of the Spirit: the use of this is to open our eyes to see that evidence of Scripture verity which is already extant; and as to remove our blindness, so by further sanctifying, to remove our natural enmity to the truth, and prejudice against it, which is no small hinderance to the believing of it; for all the hinderance lieth not in the bare intellect.

But it is another kind of testimony than this, which many great divines resolve their faith into : for when the question is of the objective cause of faith, how know you Scripture to be the word of God; or v/hy do you believe it so to be ? they finally conclude, by the testimony of the Spirit: but the Spirit's illumination being only the eflicient cause of our discerning, and the question being only of the objective cause or evidence, they must needs mean some testimony besides illuminating, sanctifying grace, or else not understand themselves : and, therefore, even great Chamier calleth this testimony the word of God, and likens it to the revelations made to the prophets and apostles, dangerously, I think. Tom. iii. lib. 13. c. 17. To imagine a necessity, first, either of an internal proper testimony, which is nrgnmetitmn inartificiale, as if the Spirit, as another person, spoke this truth within me. The Scripture is God's word ; or, secondly, of the Spirit's propounding that objective evidence internally in the soul, which is necessary to persuade by an artificial argument, without propounding it first ah extra ; thirdly, or for the Spirit to infuse or create in a man's mind an actual persuasion that Scripture is God's word, the person not knowing how he is so persuaded, nor why; or of any the like immediate injection of the intelligible species : I say, to aflfirm that the Scriptures cannot be known to be God's word, without such a testimony of the Spirit as some of these, is, in my judgment, a justifying men in their infidelity, and a telling them that there is

not yet extant any sufficient evidence of Scripture truth, till the Spirit create it in ourselves, and. withal, to leave it inipossihle to produce any evidence for the conviction of an unbeliever, who cannot know the testimony of the Spirit in me : and, indeed, it is direct expectation of enthusiasm, and that is ordinary to every Christian. And it also infers that all men have the testimony of the Spirit, who believe the Scriptures to be God's word, which would delude many natural men, who f(>el that they do believe this, though some unsoundly tell us that an unregenerate man cannot believe it. I know that, savingly, he cannot; but undissemblingly, as the devil does, he may. But I leave this point, referring the reader that understands them, for full satisfaction about the nature of the Spirit's testimony, to learned Robert Baronius, Apol. con. Turnebullum, p. 733; and also to judicious Amyraldus, Thes. de Testim. Spir. in Thes. Salmuriens, vol. i. p. 122: in both whom it is most solidly handled.

4. Doubtless, the first and chief work of preachers of the gospel, is to endeavour the conversion of pagans and infidels, where men live within their reach, and have opportunity to do it. And we all believe that the Jews shall be brought in ; and it must be by means. And how shall all this be done, if we cannot prove to them the Divine authority of what we have to say to them, but naked affirmation ? Or, how shall we maintain the credit of Christianity, if we be put to dispute the case with an infidel ? I know somewhat may be done by tradition where Scripture is not; but that is a more weak, uncertain means : I know also that the first truths, and those that are known by the light of nature, may be evinced by natural demonstrations : and when we deal with pagans, there we must begin. But for all supernatural truth, how shall we prove that to them, but by proving first the certainty of the revelation ? As Aquinas, ut in marg.* To tell them that the Spirit testifieth it, is no means to convince them that have not the Spirit. And if they have the Spirit already, then what need we preach to convince them ? If the word must be mixed with faith in them that hear it, before it profit them further to salvation ; then we cannot expect to find the Spirit in infidels. He that thinks an unholy person may not believe the Scriptures to be the word of God, doth not sure think that they may go so much further as our divines and the Scripture tell us they may do.

And to tell an infidel that it is pjincipium indemonstrahile, that Scripture is God's word, and that it is to be believed, and not to be proved, as if the very revelation. Hoc esse iestiinonium dirinum, and not only the thing testified. Hoc esse verum, were not ohjectum scienlia, sed pura Jidei. This might sooner harden infidels, than convince them. Sure I am, that both Christ and his apostles used sufficient, in suo (jenere, convincing arguments to persuade men to believe, and dealt with men as rational creatures. Truly, saith Hooker, " It is not a thing impossible, nor greatly hard, even by such kind of proofs, so to manifest and clear that point, that no

* See also the Act of the Conference at Paris, 156'), July in the bearinning.

man living shall be able to deny it, without denying some apparent principle, such as all men acknowledge to be true. And Scripture teacheth us that saving truth, which God hath discovered to the world by revelation ; but it presumeth us taught otherwise, that itself is divine and sacred. And these things we believe, knowing by reason, that Scripture is the word of God." Again, saith he, "It is not required, nor can be exacted at our hands, that we should yield it any other assent, than such as doth answer the evidence." Again, " How bold and confident soever we "may be in words, when it comes to the trial, such as the evidence is, which the truth hath, such is the assent; nor can it be stronger, if grounded as it should be.

5. Is not faith a rational act of a rational creature ? And so the understanding proceeds discursively in its production. And is not that the strongest faith which hath the strongest reasons to prove the testimony to be valid upon which it resteth, and the clearest apprehension and use of those reasons ? and the truest faith which hath the truest reasons truly apprehended and used ? And must not that, on the contrary, be weak or false faith, which receives the verity and validity of the testimony from weak or false grounds, though the testimony, of itself, be the truest in the world ? Our divines use to say, concerning love to Christ, that it is not to be measured by the degree of fervour so much as by the grounds and motives ; so that if a man should love Christ upon the same reason as the Turk loves Mahomet, it were no true love : if he love him upon false grounds, it must needs be a false love; and if upon common grounds, it can be but a common love. I will not conclude, that to believe in Jesus Christ upon the grounds that a Turk believes in Mahomet, or to believe Scripture upon the same reasons that the Turks believe the Alcoran, is no true faith, supposing that both have the like verity of their reasons ; but at best, it must be more weak and doubtful.

6. Are the generality of Christians able to give any better than some such common reason, to prove the verity of Scripture ? nay, are the more exercised, understanding sorts of Christians able by sound arguments to make it good, if an enemy or a temptation put them to it ? nay, are the meaner sort of ministers in England able to do this ? Let them that have tried, judge.

7. Can the superstructure be firm, where the foundation is sandy ? and can our affections and actions be sound and strong, when our belief of Scripture is unsound or infirm ? Sure this faith will have influence into all. For my own part, I take it to be the greatest cause of coldness in duty, weakness in grace, boldness in sinning, and unwillingness to die, &c. that our faith is either unsound or infirm in this point; few Christians among us, for aught I find, have any better than the popish implicit faith in this point, nor any better arguments than the papists have to prove Scripture the word of God. They have received it by tradition, godly ministers and Christians tell them so, it is impious to doubt of it, and therefore they believe it. And this worm, lying at the root.

causeth the languishing and decay of the whole : yet it is usually undiscerned, for the root lieth secret under gi'ound. But I am apt to judge, that though the most complain of their uncertainty of salvation, through want of assurance of their own interest, and of the weakness of the applying act of faith; yet the greater cause of all their sorrows, and that which shakes the whole building, is the weakness of their faith about the truth of Scripture; though, perhaps, the other be more perceived, and this taken notice of by few. There may be great weakness and unsoundness of belief, where yet no doublings are perceived to stir. Therefore though we could persuade people to believe never so confidently, that Scripture is the very word of God, and yet teach them no more reason why they should believe this than any other book to be that word; as it will prove in them no right way of believing, so is it in us no right way of teaching.

8. There is many a one who feels his faith shake here, who never discovers it: to doubt of our evidence, is taken for no great disgrace, and therefore men more freely profess such doubts ; nay, and some, perhaps, who are not much troubled with them, because they would be thought to be humble Christians. But to question the truth of Scripture, is a reproachful blasphemy, and therefore all that are guilty here, speak not their doubts.

9. Is not the greatest Ijattery by all sorts of enemies especially made against this foundation .' The first place that the papist assaults you in, is here ; How know you the Scripture to be the word of God ^ The Seekers will accost you with the like question; How know you that your Scripture and your ministry is of God ? The Familists and libertines do spit their venom here : and some Christians, by experience, are able to testify, that Satan's temptations are most violent here. Yea, and our own carnal, deluded reason is aptest of all to stumble here.

They talk of a toleration of all religions, and some desire that the Jews may have free commerce amongst us: it will then be time for us, I think, to be well armed at this point. Let the ordinary professors of our time, who are of weak judgments and fiery spirits, look to it, how they will stand in such assaults: lest, as now, when they cannot answer a separatist, they yield to him ; and when they cannot answer an Antinomian, they turn Antinomians ; so, then, when they can much less answer the subtle arguments of a Jew against Christ and the gospel, they should as easily turn Jews, and deny Christ, and the verity of the gospel.

The libertines among us think it necessary that we should have such a toleration to discover the unsound, who hold their faith upon tradition and custom. I am no more of their minds in this, than of his, who would have a fair virgin to lie with him, and try his chastity, and make its victory more honourable : but if we must needs have such a trial, it is time to look to the grounds of our belief, that we may be ready to give a reason of our hope.

10. However, though I were mistaken in all this, yet certain I am, that the strengthening of our faith in the verity of Scripture,

would be an exceeding help to the joy of the saints, and would advance their confident hopes of rest. For myself, if my faith in this point had no imperfection, if I did as verily believe the glory to come, as I do believe that the sun will rise again when it is set; oh ! how would it raise my desires and my joys ; what haste should I make; how serious should I be; how should I trample on these earthly vanities, and even forget the things below; how restless should I be till my right were assured to this rest; and then, how restless till I did possess it! how should I delight in the thought of death, and my heart leap at the tidings of its approach ! how glad should I be of the body's decay; to feel my prison moulder to dust! Surely, this would be the fruit of a perfect belief of the truth of the promise of our eternal rest; which, though it cannot be here expected, yet should we use the most strengthening means, and press on till we have attained. " Truly," saith Mr. Pemble, (Vindic. Grat. p. 219,) " this loose and unsettled faith is one of the fiery darts and forcible engines of Satan, whereby he assaults and overthrows the hope and comfort of many a dying man; who, having not strengthened himself on this point, by undoubted arguments and experiments, is there laid at where he lies open and unarmed, by such cunning cavils, shifts, and elusions against the authority of Scripture, that the poor man, not able to clear himself of them, falls into a doubting of all religion, and sinks into despair."

Sect. II. Thus much I have purposely spoken, as to stir up Christians to look to their faith, so especially to provoke some choice servants of Christ, among the multitudes of books that are written, to bestow their labours on this most needful subject; and all ministers to preach it more frequently and clearly to their people. Some think it is faith's honour to be as credulous as may be, and the weaker are the rational grounds, the stronger is the faith; and therefore we must believe and not dispute. Indeed, when it is once known to be a Divine testimony, then the most credulous soul is the best. But when the doubt is, whether it be the testimony of God, or no, a man may easily be over-credulous; else, why are we bid, " believe not every spirit, but try them, whether they be of God, or not." And how should the false Christs and false prophets be known, who would " deceive, were it possible, the very elect?" " To be given up of God to believe a lie," is one of the sorest of God's judgments.

Some think the only way to deal with such temptations to blasphemy, is to cast them away, and not to dispute them ; and I think the direction is very good, so it be used with distinction and caution. The rule holds good against real blasphemy, known to be such; but if the person know it not, how shall he make use of this rule against it ? Further, it is supposed that he who knows it to be blasphemy, hath arguments whereby to prove it such; else, how doth he know it ? Therefore, here lies the sin ; when a man is, by sufficient evidence, convinced, or, at least, hath evidence sufficient for conviction, that it is a Divine testimony, and yet is still cherish-

ing doubts, or hearkening to temptations which may iced those doubts ; when a man, like lialaam, will take no answer. But he who will, therefore, cast away all doubts before he hath any arguments sufficient against them, or could ever prove the thing in question, he doth indeed cast aside the temptation, but not overcome it, and may expect it should shortly return again; it is a methodical cure which prevents a relapse. Such a neglecter of temptations may be in the right, and may as well be in the wrong ; however, it is not right to him, because not rightly believed. Faith always implies a knowledge, and the knowledge usually of the matter and author of that testimony ; Divine faith hath ever a Divine* testimony, and supposeth the knowledge of the matter, when the faith is particular, but always of the author of that testimony. An implicit faith in God, that is, a believing that all is true which he testifieth, though we see no reason for it, from the evidence of the matter, this is necessary to every true believer: but to believe implicitly, that the testimony is Divine, or that Scripture is the word of God, this is not to believe God, but to resolve our faith into some human testimony; even to lay our foundation upon the sand, where all will fall at the next assault.

It is strange to consider how we all abhor that piece of popery, as most injurious to God of all the rest, which resolves our faith into the authority of the church : and yet that we do; for the generality of professors content ourselves with the same kind of faith. Only with this difference : the papists believe Scripture to be the word of God, because their church saith so ; and we, because our church or our leaders say so. Yea, and many ministers never yet gave their people better grounds, but tell them, wdiich is true, that it is damnable to deny it, but help them not to the necessary antecedents of faith.

If any think that these words tend to the shaking of men's faith, I answer, first, only of that which will fall of itself; secondly, and that it may, in time, be built again more strongly; thirdly, or at least that the sound may be surer settled. It is to be understood that many a thousand do profess Christianity, and zealously hate the enemies thereof, upon the same grounds, to the same ends, and from the same inward, corrupt principles, as the Jews did hate and kill Christ. It is the religion of the country, where every man is reproached who believes otherwise; they were born and brought up in this belief, and it hath increased in them upon the like occasions. Had they been born and bred in the religion of Mahomet, they would have been as zealous for him. The difference betwixt him and a Mahometan is more that he lives where better laws and religion dwell, than that he hath more knowledge or soundness of apprehension.

Yet would I not drive into causeless doubtings the soul of any true believers, or make them believe their faith is unsound, because it is not so strong as some others; therefore I add, some may, per-

Though some extend belief so far as to confound it with opinion. A natura ad

mj

steria, ab oculo ad oraculum, a "visu ad fidem, non ralet consequentia.

haps, have ground for their belief, though they are not able to express it by argumentation; and may have arguments in their hearts to persuade themselves, though they have none in their mouths to persuade another; yea, and those arguments in themselves may be solid and convincing. Some may be strengthened by some one sound argument, and yet be ignorant of all the rest, without overthrowing the truth of their faith. Some, also, may have weaker apprehensions of the Divine authority of Scripture than others; and as weaker grounds for their faith, so a less degree of assent; and yet that assent may be sincere and saving, so it have these two qualifications : 1. If the arguments which we have for beheving the Scripture, be in themselves more sufficient to convince of its truth, than any arguments of the enemies of Scripture can be to persuade a man to the contrary ; and do accordingly discover to us a high degree, at least, of probability. 2. x\nd if being thus far convinced, it prevails with us to choose this as the only way of life, and to adventure our souls upon this way, denying all other, and adhering, though to the loss of estate and life, to the truth of Christ thus weakly apprehended. This, I think, God will accept as true belief.

But though such a faith may serve to salvation, yet when the Christian should use it for his consolation he will find it much fail him ; even as legs or arms of the weak or lame, which when a man should use them, do fail them according to the degrees of their weakness or lameness: so much doubting as there remains of the truth of the word, or so much weakness as there is in our believing, or so much darkness or uncertainty as there is in the evidence which persuades us to believe ; so much will be wanting to our love, desires, labours, adventures, and, especially, to our joys.

Therefore I think it necessary to speak a little, and but a little, to fortify the believer against temptations, and to confirm his faith in the certain truth of that Scripture which contains the promises of this rest.

CHAPTER III.

Sect. I. And here it is necessary that we first distinguish betwixt, 1, The subject matter of Scripture, or the doctrine which it contains; 2. And the words or writings containing or expressing this doctrine. The one is as the blood, the other as the veins in which it runs. Secondly, we must distinguish betwixt, 1. The substantial and fundamental part of Scripture doctrine, without which there is no salvation; and, 2. The circumstantial and the less necessary part, as genealogies, successions, chronology, &c.

Thirdly : Of the substantial, fundamental parts, I. Some may be known and proved, even without Scripture, as being written in nature itself. 2. Some can be known only by the assent of faith to Divine revelation.

Fourthly : Of this last sort, I. Some things are above reason, as

it is without Divine revelation, both in respect of their probability, existence, and futurity. 2. Others may be known by mere reason, without Divine testimony, in regard of their possibility and probability, but not in regard of their existence and futurity.

Fifthly : Again, matter of doctrine must be distinguished from matter of fact.

Sixthly : Matter of fact is either, 1. Such as God produceth in an ordinary, or, 2. Extraordinary and miraculous way.

Seventhly : Ilistory and prophecy must be distinguished.

Eighthly : We nuist distinguish also the books and writings tiiemselves: 1. ]5etwecn the main scope, and those parts which express the chief contents; and, 2. Particular words and phrases not expressing any substantials.

Ninthly : Also it is one question, 1. Whether there be a certain number of books which are canonical, or of Divine authority ? And, 2. Another question, what number there is of these, and which particular books they are ?

Tenthly : The direct express sense must be distinguished fi'om that which is only implied or consequential.

Eleventhly : We must distinguish revelation unwritten, from that which is written.

Twelfthly and lastly : We must distinguish that scripture which was spoken or written by God immediately, from that which was spoken or written immediately by man, and but mediately by God. And of this sort, 1. Some of the instruments or penmen are known ; 2. Some not known. Of those known, 1. Some that spoke much in Scripture were bad men; 2. Others were godly : and of these, some were, 1. More eminent and extraordinary, as prophets and apostles; 2. Others were persons more inferior and ordinary.

Again; As we must distinguish of Scripture and Divine testimony, so must we also distinguish the apprehension of faith by which we do receive it.

1. There is a Divine faith, when we take the testimony to be God's own, and so believe the thing testified as upon God's words. Secondly, there is a human faith, when we believe it merely upon the credit of man.

2. Faith is either, first, implicit, when we believe the thing is true, though we understand not what it is; or, secondly, explicit, when we believe, and understand what we believe. Both these are, again. Divine or human.

3. It is one thing to believe it as probable, another thing to believe it as certain.

4. It is one thing to believe it to be true conditionally, another to believe it absolutely.

5. We must distinguish betwixt the bare assent of the understanding, to the truth of an axiom, when it is only silenced by force of argument, which will be stronger or weaker as the argument seemeth more or less demonstrative. And, secondly, that deep apprehension and firm assent which proceedeth from a well-established, confirmed faith backed by experience.

6. It is one thing to assent to the truth of the axiom, another to taste and choose the good contained in it, which is the work of the will.

Sect. II, The use I shall make of these distinc-tions, is to open the way to these following po- being a'metaphoi!°is sitions, which will resolve the great questions on to be banished dis-foot, how far the belief of the written word is of 1"^^^^^'^ ^''' "^-necessity to salvation, and whether it be the foundation of our faith, and whether this foundation hath been always the same ?

Pos. 1. The object of belief, is the will of God revealed, or a Divine testimony, where two things are absolutely necessary : first, the matter ; secondly, the revelation.*

* "We must, therefore, know it to be a Divine testimony, before we can believe it Jide divina. For if you do merely believe it to be God's word, it is either by a Divine testimony or without: if without, then it is not fides divina, a belief of God ; if by it, then why do you believe that testimony to be Divine ? If upon another Divine testimony, so you may run in infinitum. But you will say, the first testimony which witnesseth of truth doth also witness itself to be of God. Answ. If you mean, that it so witnesseth as a testimony to be merely believed, then the question, how you know it to be a Divine testimony, will still recur in infinitum; but if you mean that it witnesseth itself to be Divine objectively to our reason, as having the evidence of a Divine spirit and authority, then you say right. But, then, as this supposeth the use of other helps to our knowledge, as tradition by human, infallible testimony, &c. so this granteth that it is more properly known than believed to be a Divine testimony. Yet this is not our resolving our faith into reason or human testimony, but a discerning by reasoij and the help of human testimony the marks of a Divine author in the writing, and the miracles, &c.; and thence also by reason concluding the divineness of that testimony into which my faith is resolved. As I detest their use of tradition, which would make it a part of God's law, to supply the defect of Scripture ; so I detest that infidelity, which rejecteth all Scripture, save that which suiteth their reason, and where they can see the evidence of the thing itself. If I once know that God speaks it, I will believe any thing that he saith, though it seem never so unreasonable ; but yet I will see reason for the divineness of the testimony, and know that it is indeed God that speaks it, else I must believe every testimony which affirms itself to be Divine : and for those that say they only believe Scripture to be God's word, because it so testifieth of itself, and do not know it, and so make it a proper act of faith, and not of knowledge, I ask them, 1. Why, then, do you not believe (but hold him accursed) an angel from heaven, if he preach another gospel besides this, and say. It is from God ; and so every one that saith, I am Christ 1 2. Why do you use to produce reasons from the objective characters of divinity in the Scriptures, when you prove it to testify of itself! Do you not know, that to discern those characters as the premises, and thence to conclude the divinity, is an act of knowledge, and not of faith 1 Else you should only say, when you are asked, how you know Scripture to be the word of God, that you believe it, because it saith so, and not give any reason from the thing why you believe it. 3. And then how will you prove it against a Celsus, or Lucian, or Porphyry, or convince Turks and Indians 1 4. And why were the Bereans commended for trying apostolical doctrine, whether it were true or not^ 5. And why are we bid to try the spirits whether they be of God *? What if one of these spirits say as the old prophet, or as Rabshakeh to Hezekiah, " that he comes from God, and God bid him speak," will you believe, or try by reason 1 6. Doth not your doctrine make your belief to be wholly human, as having no Divine testimony for the divinity of the first testimony 1 and so what are all your graces like to prove which are built hereon 1 And what a sad influence must this needs have into all our duties and comforts! If you fly to the inward testimony of the Spirit, (as distinct from the sanctifying illumination of the Spirit,) then the question is most difficult of all, How you know the testimony of that Spirit to be Divine 1 Unless you will take in the fearful delusion of the enthusiasts, and say. That the Spirit manifesteth the divinity of his own testimony. And then I ask. Doth it manifest it to reason 1 or only to inward sense 1 If to reason, .then you come to that you fly from ; and then you can produce that reason, and prove it. If only to inward sense, then how know you but a counterfeit angel of light may produce more strange effects in your soul, than these which you take to be such a manifestation'! Especially seeing, (1.) We know so little of spirits, and what they can

2. All this revealed will is necessary to the completing: of our faith ; and it is our duty to believe it. I5ut it is only the substance and tenor of the covenants, and the things necessarily supposed to the knowing and keeping of the covenant of grace, which are of absolute necessity to the being of faith, and to salvation. A man may be saved, though he should not believe many things, which yet he is bound by God to believe. 3. Yet this must be only through ignorance of the matter, or of the divineness of the testimony. For a flat unbelief of the smallest truth, when we know the testimony to be of God, will not stand with the being of true faith, nor with salvation. For reason lays down this ground, That God can speak nothing but truth ; and faith proceeds upon that supposition. 4. This doctrine, so absolutely necessary, hath not been ever from the beginning the same, but hath differed according to the different covenants and administrations. That doctrine which is now so necessary, was not so before the fall; and that which is so necessary since the coming of Christ, was not so before his coming. Then they might be saved in believing in the Messiah to come of the seed of David : but now it is of necessity to believe, that this Jesus, the Son of Mary, is He, and that we look not for another. I prove it thus : That which is not revealed, can be no object of our faith ; much less so necessary ; but Christ was not revealed before the fall; nor this Jesus revealed to be He, before his coming; therefore these were not of necessity to be believed, or, as some metaphorically speak, they were then no fundamental doctrines. Perhaps, also, some things will be found of absolute necessity to us, which are not so to Indians and Turks. 5. God hath made this substance of Scripture doctrine to be thus necessary, primarily, and for itself. G. That it be revealed, is also of absolute necessity : but, secondarily, and for the doctrine's sake, as a means without which believing is neither possible, nor a duty. x\nd though where

do. (2.) And we have still known those that pretended to the strangest sense of spiritual revelations, to have proved the most deluded persons in the end. 7. Doth not your doctrine teach men, in laying aside reason, to lay aside humanity, and to become brutes t If faith and reason be so contrary, as some men talk, yea, or reason so useless, then you may believe best in your sleep ; and idiots, infants, and madmen are the fittest to make Christians of. 8. And what an injurious doctrine is this to Christ! and disgraceful to the Christian faith ! 9. And how would it harden infidels, and make them deride us, rather than believe !

Thus much I am forced here to add, both because I see many teachers have need to be taught these principles (the more is the pity) ; and, 2. Because some reverend brethren by their exceptions have called me to it. In a word, reason rectified is the eye of the soul, the guide of the life ; the illumination of the spirit is the rectifying it. No small jiart of our sanctification lieth in the rectifying of our reason. The use of the word, and all ordinances and providences, is first to rectify reason, and thereby the will, and thereby the life. Faith itself is an act of reason ; or else it is a brutish act, and not human. The stronger any man's reason is, the stronglier is he persuaded that God is true, and that he cannot lie ; and therefore whatsoever he saith must needs be true, though reason cannot discern the thing in its own evidence. He that hath the Tightest reason, hath the most grace. Sincerity (and consequently our salvation) lieth in the strength and prevalency of rectified reason over the flesh, and all its interests and desires. But without Scripture or Divine revelation, and the Spirit's powerful illumination, reason can never be rectified in spirituals. By thus much, judge of the ignorance, and vanity of those men, who when they read any that write of the reasonableness of Christian religion, do presently accuse it, or suspect it of Socinianism.

there is no revelation, faith is not necessary as a duty; yet it may be necessary, I think, as a means, that is, our natural misery may he such as can no other way he cured; hut this concerns not us that have heard of Christ. 7. Nature, creatures, and Providence, are no sufficient revelation of this tenor of the covenants. 8. It is necessary not only that this doctrine he revealed, but also that it be revealed with grounds and arguments rationally sufficient to evince the verity of the doctrine, or the divineness of the testimony, that from it we may conclude the former. 9. The revelation of truth is to be considered in respect of the first immediate delivery from God: or, secondly, in respect of the way of its coming down to us, it is delivered by God immediately either by writing, as the two tables, or by informing angels, who may be his messengers, or by inspiring some choice, particular men; so that few in the world have received it from God at the first hand. 10. The only ways of revelations that, for aught I know, are now left, are Scripture and tradition. For though God hath not tied himself from revelations by the Spirit, yet he hath ceased them, and perfected his Scripture revelations; so that the Spirit only reveals what is revealed already in the word, by illuminating us to understand it. 11. The more immediate the revelation, ceteris paribus, the more sure ; and the more succession of hands it passeth through, the more uncertain, especially in matter of doctrine. 12. When we receive from men, by tradition, the doctrine of God, as in the words of God, there is less danger of corruption, than when they deliver us that doctrine in their own words; because here taking liberty to vary the expressions, it will represent the truth more uncertainly, and in more various shapes. 13. Therefore hath God been pleased, when he ceased immediate revelation, to leave his will written in a form of words which should be his standing law and rule to try all other men's expressions by. 14. In all the fore-mentioned respects, therefore, the written word doth excel the unwritten tradition of the same doctrine. 15. Yet unwritten tradition, or any sure way of revealing this doctrine, may suffice to save him who thereby is brought to believe ; as if there be any among the Abassines of Ethiopia, the Coptics in Egypt, or elsewhere, that have the substance of the covenants delivered them by unwritten tradition, or by other writings, if hereby they come to believe, they shall be saved. For so the promise of the gospel runs, giving salvation to all that believe, by what means soever they were brought to it. The like may be said of true believers in those parts of the church of Rome, where the Scripture is wholly hid from the vulgar, if there be any such parts. IG, Yet where the written word is wanting, salvation must needs be more difficult and more rare, and faith more feeble, and men's conversations worse ordered, because they want that clearer revelation, that surer rule of faith and life, which might make the way of salvation more easy. 17. When tradition ariseth no higher, or cometh originally but from this written word, and not from the verbal testimonies of the apostles before the word was written^ there that tradition is but the preach-

ing of the word, and not a distinct way of revealing. IH. Such is most of the tradition, for aught I can h^irn, that is now on foot in the world, for matter of doctrine, but not for matter of fact. H). 'I'herefore the Scriptures are not only necessary to the well-being of the church, and to the strength of faith, but, ordinarily, to the very being of faith and churches. 20. Not that the present possession of Scripture is of absolute necessity to the present being of a church ; nor that it is so absolutely necessary to every man's salvation, that he read or know this Scripture himself; but that it either be at present, or have been formerly in the church: that some knowing it, may teach it to others, is of absolute necessity to most persons and churches, and necessary to the well-being of all. 21. Though negative unbelief of the authority of Scripture may stand with salvation, yet positive and universal, I think, cannot : or, though tradition may save where Scripture is not known, yet he that reads or hears the Scripture, and will not believe it to be the testimony of God, I think, cannot be saved, because this is now the clearest and surest revelation ; and he that will not believe it, will much less believe a revelation more uncertain and obscure. 22. Though all Scripture be of Divine authority, yet he that believeth but some one book, which containeth the substance of the doctrine of salvation, may be saved ; much more they that have doubted but of some particular books. 23, They that take the Scripture to be but the writings of godly, honest men, and so to be only a means of making known Christ, having a gradual precedency to the writings of other godly men, and do believe in Christ upon those strong grounds which are drawn from his doctrine, miracles, &c. rather than upon the testimony of the writing, as being purely infallible and Divine, may yet have a Divine and saving faith. 24. Much more, those that believe the whole writing to be of Divine inspiration where it handleth the susbtanoe, but doubt whether God infallibly guided them in every circumstance, 25. And yet more, those that believe that the Spirit did guide the writers to truth, both in substance and circumstance, but doubt whether he guided them in orthography ; or whether their pens were as perfectly guided as their minds. 26. And yet more, may those have saving faith, who only doubt whether Providence infallibly guided any transcribers, or printers, as to retain any copy that perfectly agreeth with the autograph : yea, whether the perfectest copy now extant may not have some inconsiderable literal or verbal errors, through the transcribers' or printers' oversight, is of no great moment, as long as it is certain, that the Scriptures are not de industria corrupted, nor any material doctrine, history, or prophecy thereby obscured or depraved. God hath not engaged himself to direct every printer to the world's end, to do his work without any error. Yet it is unlikely that this should deprave all copies, or leave us uncertain wholly of the right reading, especially since copies were multiplied, because it is unlikely that all transcribers, or printers, will commit the very same error. We know the true copies of our statute books, though the printer be not guided by an

unerring spirit. See Usher's Epistle to Lud. Capell. 27. Yet do all, or most of these, in my judgment, cast away a singular prop to their faith, and lay it open to dangerous assaults, and douht of that which is a certain truth. 28. As the translations are no further Scripture, than they agree with the copies in the original tongues; so neither are those copies further than they agree with the autographs, or original copies, or with some copies perused and approved by the apostles. 29. Yet is there not the like necessity of having the autographs to try the transcripts by, as there is of having the original transcripts to try the translations by. For there is an impossibility that any translation should perfectly express the sense of the original. But there is a possibility, probability, and facility, of true transcribing, and grounds to prove it true, de facto, as we shall touch anon. 30. That part which was written by the finger of God, as also the substance of doctrine through the whole Scriptures, are so purely Divine, that they have not in them any thing human. 31. The next to these, are the words that were spoken by the mouth of Christ, and then those that were spoken by angels. 32. The circumstantials are many of them so Divine, as yet they have in them something human, as the bringing of Paul's cloak - and parchments, and, as it seems, his counsel about marriage, &c. 33. Much more is there something human in the method and phrase, which is not so immediately Divine as the doctrine. 34. Yet is there nothing sinfully human, and therefore nothing false in all. 35. But an innocent imperfection there is in the method and phrase, which if we deny, we must renounce most of our logic and rhetoric. 36. Yet was this imperfect way, at that time, all things considered, the fittest way to divulge the gospel. That is the best language which is best suited to the hearers, and not that which is best simply in itself, and sup-poseth that understanding in the hearers which they have not. Therefore it was wisdom and mercy to fit the Scriptures to the capacity of all. Yet will it not, therefore, follow, that all preachers, at all times, should as much neglect definition, distinction, syllogism, &c. as Scripture doth. 37. Some doctrinal passages in Scripture are only historically related, and therefore the relating them is no asserting them for truth; and therefore those sentences may be false, and yet not the Scriptures false: yea, some falsehoods are written by way of reproving them, as Gehazi's lie, Saul's excuse, &c. 38. Every doctrine that is thus related only historically, is therefore of doubtful credit, because it is not a Divine assertion, except Christ himself were the speaker ; and therefore it is to be tried by the rest of the Scripture. 39. Where ordinary men were the speakers, the credit of such doctrine is the more doubtful, and yet much more, when the speakers were wicked; of the former sort are the speeches of Job's friends, and divers others ; of the latter sort are the speeches of the Pharisees, &c. and perhaps Gamaliel's counsels. Acts v. 34. 40. Yet where God doth testify his inspiration, or approbation, the doctrine is of Divine authority, though the speaker be wicked, as in Balaam's prophecy. 41. The like

may be said of matter of fact;* for it is not cither necessary or lawful, to speak such words or do such actions, merely because men in Scripture did so speak or do; no, not though they were the best saints ; ior their ow^n speeches or actions nre to be judged by the law, and therefore are no part of the law themselves. And as they are evil where they cross the law, as Joseph's swearing, the ancients' polygamy, &c.; so are they doubtful where their congruence with the law is doubtful. 42. But here is one most observable exception, conducing much to resolve that great doubt, whether examples bind ; where men are designed by God to such an office, and act by commission, and with a promise of direction, their doctrines are of Divine authority, though we find not where God did dictate ; and their actions done by that commission are current and exemplary, so far as they are intended or performed for example ; and so example may be equivalent to a law, and the argument, a facto ad jus, may hold. So Moses being appointed to the forming of the old church and commonwealth of the Jews, to the building of the tabernacle, &c.; his precepts and examples in these works, though we could not find his particular direction, are to be taken as Divine. So also the apostles, having commission to form and order the gospel churches, their doctrine and examples therein, are by their general commission warranted; and their practices in establishing the Lord's day, in settling the offices and orders of churches, are to us as laws, still binding with those limitations as positives only, which give way to greater. 43. The ground of this position is, because it is inconsistent with the wisdom and faithfulness of God, to send men to a w^ork, and promise to be with them, and yet to forsake them, and suffer them to err in the building of that house, which must endure till the end of the world. 44. Yet if any of the commissioners do err in their own particular con-versations,t or in matters without the extent of their commission, this may consist with the faithfulness of God: God hath not promised them infallibility and perfection ; the disgrace is their own : but if they should miscarry in that wherein they are sent to be a rule to others, the church would then have an imperfect rule, and the dishonour would redound to God. 45. Yet I find not that ever God authorized any mere man to be a lawgiver to the church in substantials, but only to deliver the laws which he had given to interpret them, and to determine circumstantials not by him determined. 46. Where God owneth men's doctrines and examples by miracles, they are to be taken as infallibly Divine; much more, when commission, promises, and miracles, do concur, which con-iirmeth the apostles' examples for current. 47. So that if any of the kings or prophets had given laws, and formed the church, as Moses, they had not been binding, because without the said commission ; or if any other minister of the gospel shall by word or action arrogate an apostolical privilege. 48. There is no verity about God, or the chief happiness of man written in nature, but it

* A facto ad jus ad licitum vel debitum non \alet argum. t As Peter, Gal. ii. 12, 13.

is to be found written in Scriptures. 49. So that the same thing may, in these several respects, be the object both of knowledge and of faith. 50. The Scripture being so perfect a transcript of the law of nature or reason, is much more to be credited in its supernatural revelations. 51. The probability of most things, and the possibility of all things, contained in the Scriptures, may well be discerned by reason itself, which makes their existence or futurity the more easy to be believed. 52. Yet before this existence or futurity of any thing beyond the reach of reason can be soundly believed, the testimony must be known to be truly Divine. 53. Yet a belief of Scripture doctrine as probable, doth usually go before a belief of certainty, and is a good preparative thereto. 54. The direct, express sense, must be believed directly and absolutely as infallible, and the consequences, where they may be clearly and certainly raised; but where there is danger of erring in raising consequences, the assent can be but weak and conditional. 55. A consequence raised from Scripture, being no part of the immediate sense, cannot be called any part of Scripture. 56. Where one of the premises is in nature, and the other only in Scripture, there the conclusion is mixed, partly known, and partly believed. That it is the consequence of those premises is known; but that it is a truth, is, as I said, apprehended by a mixed act. Such is a Christian's concluding himself to be justified and sanctified, &c. 57. Where, through weakness, we are unable to discern the consequences, there is enough in the express direct sense for salvation. 58. Where the sense is not understood, there the belief can be but implicit. 59. Where the sense is partly understood, but with some doubting, the belief can be but conditionally explicit; that is, we believe it, if it be the sense of the word. 60, Fundamentals must be believed explicitly and absolutely.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FIRST ARGUMENT TO PROVE SCRIPTURE TO BE THE WORD OF GOD.

Sect. I. Having thus showed you in what sense the Scriptures are the word of God, and how far to be believed, and what is the excellency, necessity, and authority of them, I shall now add three or four arguments to help your faith; which, I hope, will not only prove them to be a Divine testimony to the substance of doctrine, (though that be a useful work against our unbelief,) but also that they are the very written laws of God, and a perfect rule of faith and duty, 2 Tim. iii. 16. My arguments shall be but few, because I handle it but on the bye, and those such as I find little of in ordinary writings, lest I should waste time in doing what is done to my hands.

1. Those writings and that doctrine which were confirmed by many and real miracles, must needs be of God, and consequently of undoubted truth. ]5ut the books and doctrines of canonioal Scripture were so confirmed; therefore, &c.

Against the major proposition nothing of any moment can be said; for it is a truth apparent enough to nature, that none but God can work real miracles, or, at least, none but those whom he doth especially enable thereto ; and it is as manifest that the righteous and faithful God will not give this power for a seal to any falsehood or deceit.

The usual objections are these : first, antichrist shall come with lying wonders.

Ansiv. They are no true miracles : as they are rdpaia -^evSovi^ 2 Thess. ii. 9, lying, in sealing to a lying doctrine ; so also in being but seeming and counterfeit miracles. The like may be said to those of Pharaoh's magicians, and all other sorcerers and witches, and those that may be wrought by Satan himself. They may be wonders, but not miracles.

Object. 2. God may enable false prophets to w^ork miracles to try the world, without any derogation to his faithfulness.

Ansio. No: for Divine power being properly the attendant of Divine revelation, if it should be annexed to diabolical delusion, it would be a sufficient excuse to the world for their believing those delusions. And if miracles should not be a sufficient seal to prove the authority of the witness to be Divine, then is there nothing in the world sufficient; and so our faith will be quite overthrown.

Object. But, however, miracles will no more prove Christ to be the Son of God, than they will prove Moses, Elias, or Elisha, to be the sons of God, for they wrought miracles as well as Christ.

Answ. Miracles are God's seal, not to extol the person that is instrumental, nor for his glory; but to extol God, and for his own glory. God doth not intrust any creatures with his seal so absolutely, as that they may use it when and in what case they please. If Moses, or Elias, had affirmed themselves to be the sons of God, they could never have confirmed that affirmation with a miracle ; for God would not have sealed to a lie. Christ's power of working miracles did not immediately prove him to be the Christ, but it immediately proved his testimony to be Divine, and that testimony spoke his nature and office; so that the power of miracles in the prophets and apostles was not to attest to their own greatness, but to the truth of their testimony concerning Christ. Whatsoever any man affirms to me, and works a real miracle to confirm it, I must needs take myself bound to believe him.

Object. But what if some one should work miracles to confirm a doctrine contrary to Scripture, would you believe it ? Doth not Paul say, " If an angel from heaven teach any other doctrine, let him be accursed ?"

Answ. I am sure God will never give any false teacher the power of confirming his doctrine by miracles ; else God should subscribe

his name to contradictions. The appearance of an angel is no miracle, though a wonder.

Object. But every simple man knows not the true definition of a miracle, and consequently knows not the difference between a miracle and a wonder, and so knows not how to believe on this ground.

Ansic. As God doth not use the testimony of miracles, but on very great and weighty causes, to wit, where natural and ordinary means of conviction are wanting, and usually for the delivering of some new law or truth to the world, or the like; so when he doth use it, he sufficiently manifesteth the reality of the miracles. Satan's wonders are such as may be done by natural means; though perhaps, through our ignorance, we see not the means. But God oft worketh that which no natural means can do, and Satan never performed ; as the raising of the dead to life, the creating of sight to him that was born blind, the dividing of the sea, the standing still of the sun, with multitudes of the like. Again, though many of Christ's works may be done by natural means, as the healing of the deaf, the dumb, the lame, &c. yet Christ did them all by a word speaking, and so it is apparent that he made no use of natural means, secretly nor openly. Again, the wonders of Satan are most commonly juggling delusions, and therefore the great miracles that pagans and papists have boasted of, have been but some one or two strange things in an age, or usually before one or two, or some few, and that of the simple and more partial sort, that are easily deceived : but if upon the fame of these you go to look for more that may be a full and open testimony, you v.ill fail of your expectation. But, contrarily, that there might be no room for doubting left, Christ wrought his miracles before multitudes; feeding many thousands at several times, with a small quantity ; healing the sick, blind, lame, and raising the dead, before many ; the persons afterwards showing themselves to the world, and attesting it to his enemies : and this he did not once or twice, but most frequently; so that they that suspected deceit in one, or two, or ten, might be satisfied in twenty. Yea, which is the greatest convincing discovery of the reality, it was not himself only, but multitudes of his followers, whom he enabled, when he was gone from them, to do the like, to speak strange languages before multitudes, to heal the sick and lame, and raise the dead. And usually false wonders are done but among friends, that would have it so, and are ready to believe ; but Christ wrought his in the midst of enemies that gnashed the teeth, and had nothing to say against it. And I am persuaded that it was one reason why God would have Christ and all his followers have so many and cruel enemies, that when they had nothing to say against it, who doubtless would pry narrowly into all, and make the worst of it, it might tend to the establishing of believers afterwards. Again, usually false miracles, as they crept out in the dark, so they were not divulged till some after-ages, and only a little muttered of at the present: but Christ and his apostles wrought and published them openly in the world. If the gospel history had been false, how

many thousand persons could have witnessed against it, seeing they appeahnl lo thousands of witnesses then living, of several ranks, and qualities, and countries! It is true, indeed, the magicians of I'igypt did seem to go far. But consider whether they were mere delusions, or real wonders by secret, natural means ; douhtless, they were no miracles directly so called. And lest any should say that God tempted them by such above their strength, you may observe that he doth not suffer Satan to do what he can do, without a sufficient counter-testimony to undeceive men. When did God suffer the like deceit as those sorcerers used l Nor would he then have suffered it, but that Moses was at hand to overcome their delusions, and leave the beholders with full conviction, that so the enemies' strength might make the victory the more glorious, Balaam could not go beyond the word of the Lord. So that I desire all weak believers to observe this, That as God is the faithful Ruler of the world, so he will not let loose the enemy of mankind to tempt us by wonders, further than he himself shall give us a sufficient contradictory testimony. So that if we do not know the difference between a miracle and a wonder, yet God's faithfulness affords us a sufficient preservative, if we disregard it not. And if we should grant that Satan can work miracles ; yet he being wholly at God's dispose, it is certain that God will not permit him to do it, without a full contradiction; and, therefore, such as Christ's miracles he shall never work. Else should the creature be remedi-lessly deluded by supernatural powers, while God looks on.

Secondly : But the main assault I know will be made against the minor proposition of the argument, and so the question will be, do facto, whether ever such miracles were wrought or no ? I shall grant that we must not here argue circularly to prove the doctrine to be of God by the miracles, and then the miracles to have been wrought by the Divine testimony of the doctrine, and so round. But yet, to use the testimony of the history of Scripture, as a human testimony of the matter of fact, is no circular arguing.

Sect. II. Toward the confirmation of the minor, therefore, I shall first lay these grounds: 1. That there is so i p • • much certainty in some human testimony, that may exclude all doubting, or cause of doubting; or there is some testimony immediately human, which yet may truly be said to be Divine : 2. That such testimony we have of the miracles mentioned in Scripture. If these two be cleared, the minor will stand firm, and the main work here will be done.

First: I will therefore show you, that there is such a certainty in some human testimony. Both experience and reason will confirm this. First, I would desire any rational man to tell me, whether he that never was at London, at Paris, or at Rome, may not be certain, by a human faith, that there are such cities ? For my own part, I think it as certain to me, nay, more certain, than that which I see : and I should sooner question my own sight alone^ than the eyes and credit of so many thousands in such a

L 2

case. And I think the sceptic arguments brought against the certainty of sense, to be as strong as any that can be brought against the certainty of such a testimony. Is it not somewhat more than probable, think you, to the multitudes that never saw either parliament or king, that yet there is such an assembly, and such a person: may we not be fully certain that there was such a person as King James, as Queen Elizabeth, as Queen Mary, &c. here in England ; yea, that there was such a man as William the Conqueror ? may we not be certain, also, that he conquered England; with many other of his actions ? The like may be said of Julius Caesar, of Alexander the Great, &c. Sure, those who charge all human testimony with uncertainty, do hold their lands then upon an uncertain tenure.

Secondly : It may be proved, also, by reason ; for, 1. If the first testifiers may infallibly know it; and, 2. Also by an infallible means transmit it to posterity; and, 3. Have no intent to deceive ; then their testimony may be an infallible testimony. But all these three may easily be proved, I had thought to have laid down here the rules, by which a certain human testimony may be discerned from an uncertain; but you may easily gather them from what I shall lay down for the confirmation of these three positions.

For the first, I suppose none will question whether the testifiers might infallibly know the truth of what they testify ? If they should, let them consider : First, If it be not matter of doctrine, much less abstruse and difficult points, but only matter of fact, then it is beyond doubt it may be certainly known. Secondly, If it be those also who did see, and hear, and handle, who do testify it. Thirdly, If their senses were sound and perfect, within reach of the object, and having no deceiving medium. Fourthly, Which may be discerned, 1. If the witnesses be a multitude; for then it may be known they are not blind or deaf, except they had been culled out of some hospitals ; especially when all present do both see and hear them : 2. When the thing is done openly, in the daylight : 3. When it is done frequently, and near at hand; for then there would be full opportunity to discover any deceit. So that in these cases it is doubtless sense is infallible, and, consequently, those that see and hear are most certain witnesses.

2. Next let us see, whether we may be certain that any testimony is sincere, without a purpose to deceive us. And I take that for undoubted in the following cases: 1. Where the party is ingenuous and honest: 2. And it is apparent he drives on no design of his own, nor cannot expect any advantage in the world; 3. Nay, if his testimony will certainly undo him in the world, and prove the overthrow of his ease, honour, estate, and life. 4. And if it be a multitude that do thus testify, how can they do it with an intent to deceive ? 5. And if their several testimonies do agree ; 6. And if the very enemies deny not this matter of fact, but only refer it to other causes ; then there is no possibility of deceit, as I shall further, anon, evince, when I apply it to the question : 7. And if no one of the witnesses in life, or at the hour of death, did

ever repent of his testimony, and confess it a deceit; as certainly some one would have done for so great a sin, if it had been so.

Thirdly : We are to prove, that there are infallible means of transmitting such testimony down to posterity, without depraving any thing substantial. And then it will remain an undoubted truth, that there is a full certainty in some human testimony, and that to posterity at a remote distance.

Now, this tradition is infallible in these cases: 1. If it be (as before said) in matter of fact only, which the meanest understandings are capable of apprehending. 2. If it be also about the substance of actions, and not every small circumstance. 3. And also if those actions were famous in their times, and of great note and wonder in the world, and such as were the cause of public and eminent alterations. 4. If it be delivered down in writing, and not only by word of mouth, where the change of speech might alter the sense of the matter. 5. If the records be public, where the very enemies may see them ; yea, published on purpose by heralds and ambassadors, that the world may take notice of them. G. If they are men of greatest honesty in all ages, who have both kept and divulged these records. 7. And if there have been also a multitude of these. 8. And this multitude of several countries, where they could never so much as meet to agree upon any deceiving counsels ; much less all accord in such a design ; and, least of all, be able to manage it with secrecy. 9. If also the after-preservers and divulgers of these records could have no more self-advancing ends, than the first testifiers. 10. Nay, if their divulging and attesting these records, did utterly ruin their estates and lives, as well as it did the first testifiers. 11. If there be such a dispersing of the copies of these records all over the world, that the cancelling and abolishing them is a thing impossible. 12. If the very histories of the enemies do never affirm any universal abolishing and consuming of them. 13. If all these dispersed copies through the world do perfectly agree in every thing material. 14. If it were a matter of such moment in the judgment of the preservers, neither to add nor diminish, that they thought their eternal salvation did lie upon it. 15. If the histories of their enemies do generally mention their attesting these records to the loss of their lives, and that successfully in every age. IG. If these records and attestations are yet visible to the world, and that in such a form as none could counterfeit. 17. If the enemies that lived near or in those times when the things were done, do, 1. Write nothing against them of any moment, 2. But oppose them with fire and sword, instead of argument. 3. Nay, if they acknowledge the fact, but deny the cause only. 18. And if all the enemies were inconi-petent witnesses. 1. Witnessing to the negative, of which they could have no certainty. 2. And carried on with apparent malice and prejudice. 3. And having all worldly advantages attending their cause. 4. And being generally men unconscionable and impious. 19. If all these enemies, having all these worldly advantages, could neither by arguments nor violence hinder people from

believing these famous and palpable matters of fact, in the very age wherein they were done, when the truth and falsehood might most easily be discovered, but that the generality of beholders were forced to assent. 20. If multitudes of the most ingenious and violent enemies, have in every age, from the very acting of these things to this day, been forced to yield, and turned as zealous defenders of these records and their doctrine, as ever they were opposers of them before. 21. If all these converts do confess upon their coming in, that it was ignorance, or prejudice, or worldly respects, that made them oppose so much before. 22. If all the powers of the world, that can burn the bodies of the witnesses, that can overthrow kingdoms, and change their laws, could never yet reverse and abolish these records, 23. Nay, if some notable judgment in all ages, have befallen the most eminent opposers thereof. 24. And lastly, if successions of wonders (though not miracles as the first) have in all ages accompanied the attestation of these records. I say, if all these twenty-four particulars do concur, or most of these, I leave it to the judgment of any man of understanding, whether there be not an infallible way of transmitting matter of fact to posterity ? and, consequently, whether there be not more than a probability, even a full certainty, in such a human testimony ?

Sect. III. 2. The second thing which I am to manifest, is, that we have such a testimony of the miracles, which confirmed the doctrine and writings of the Bible.

And here I must run over the three foregoing particulars again ; and show you, First, That the witnesses of Scripture miracles could and did infallibly know the truth which they testified: Secondly, That they had no intent to deceive the world : and. Thirdly, That it hath been brought down to posterity by a way so infallible, that there remains no doubt whether our records are authentic. For the first of these, I think it will be most easily acknowledged. Men are naturally so confident of the infallibility of their own senses, that sure they will not suspect the senses of others. But if they should, let them have recourse to what is said before, to put them out of doubt. First, It was matter of fact, which might be easily discerned. Secondly, The apostles and others who bore witness to it, were present, yea, continual companions of Christ, and the multitude of Christians were eye-witnesses of the miracles of the apostles. Thirdly, These were men neither blind nor deaf, but of as sound and perfect senses as we. Fourthly, This is apparent; 1. Because they were great multitudes, even that were present, and therefore could not all be blind; if they had, how did they walk about ? Fifthly, These miracles were not done by night, nor in a corner, but in the open light, in the midst of the people. Sixthly, They were not once or twice only performed, but very oft, of several kinds, by several persons, even prophets, and Christ himself and his apostles, in many generations; so that if there had been any deceit, it might have been easily discovered. Seventhly, and lastly, It was in the midst of vigilant and subtle enemies, who were able and ready enough to have evinced the deceit.

So that it remains certain that the first eye-witnesses themselves were not deceived.

2. Let us next consider whether it be not also as certain that they never intended the deceiving of the world.

First: It is evident that they were neither fools nor knaves, but men of ingenuity, and extraordinary honesty : there needs no more to prove this, than their own writings, so full of enmity against all kind of vice, so full of conscientious zeal and heavenly affections. Yet is this their honesty also attested by their enemies. Sure the very remnants of natui'al honesty are a Divine offspring, and do produce also certain effects according to their strength and nature. God hath planted and continued them in man, for the use of societies, and common converse : for if all honesty were gone, one man could not believe another, and so could not converse together. But now supernatural, extraordinary honesty, will produce its effect more certainly: if three hundred or three thousand honest, godly men should say, they saw such things with their eyes, he is very incredulous that would not believe it.

Secondly : It is apparent that neither prophets, apostles, nor disciples, in attesting these things, could drive on any designs of their own. Did they seek their honour, or ease, or profit, or worldly delights ? Did their Master give them any hopes of these? Or did they see any probability of their attaining it ? Or did they see any of their fellows attain it before them ?

Thirdly: Nay, was it not a certain way to their ruin in the world ? Did not their Master tell them, when he sent them out, that they should be persecuted of all for his sake and the gospel's ? Did they not find it true, and therefore expected the like themselves ? Paul knew, that in every city bonds and afflictions did abide him. And they lay it down as a granted rule, that he that will live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecution. Now I would fain know, whether a man's self, his estate, his liberty, his life, be not naturally so near and dear to all, that they would be loth to throw it away, merely to deceive and cozen the world ? All that I know can be objected is, that they may do it out of a desire to be admired in the world for their godliness and their suffering.

Answ. 1. Go see where you can find thousands or millions of men that will cast away their lives to be talked of.

2. Did they not, on the contrary, renounce their own honour and esteem, and call themselves vile and miserable sinners, and speak worse of themselves than the most impious wretch will do, and extol nothing but God and his Son Jesus ?

3. Did not their INIaster foretell them, that they should be so far from getting credit by his service, that they should be hated of all men, and their names cast out as evil-doers ? Did they not see him spit upon, and hanged on a cross among thieves before their eyes, some of them ? Did they not find by experience, that their way was every where spoken against ? and the reproach of the cross of Christ was the great stumblingblock to the world ? And could

men possibly choose such a way for vain-glory ? I am persuaded it is one great reason why Christ would have the first witnesses of the gospel to suffer so much to confirm their testimony to future ages, that the world might see that they intended not to deceive them.

Fourthly : Consider, also, what a multitude these witnesses were. How could so many thousands of several countries lay the plot to deceive the world ? They were not only thousands that believed the gospel, but thousands that saw the miracles of Christ, and many cities and countries that saw the miracles of the apostles.

Fifthly : And the testimony of all doth so punctually accord, that the seeming contradiction in some smaller circumstances, doth but show their simplicity and sincerity, and their agreement in the main.

Sixthly: And is it possible that no one of them would so much as at death, or in torments, have detected the deceit ?

Seventhly and lastly : The very enemies acknowledge this matter of fact; only they ascribe it to other causes. They could not deny the miracles that were wrought: even to this day the Jews acknowledge much of the works of Christ, but slanderously father them upon the power of the devil, or upon the force of the name of God sewed in Christ's thigh, and such-like ridiculous stories they have ; even the Turks confess much of the miracles of Christ, and believe him to be a great prophet, though they are professed enemies to the Christian name.

So that I think by all this it is certain, that the first witnesses of the miracles of Christ and his apostles, as they were not deceived themselves, so neither had they any intent to deceive the world.

3. We are next to show you, that the way that this testimony hath come down to us, is a certain, infallible way. For,

1. Consider, it is a matter of fact (for the doctrine we are not now mentioning, except de facto, that this was the doctrine attested).

2. They were the substances of the actions that they chiefly related, and that we are now inquiring after the certainty of. Though men may mistake in the circumstances of the fight at such a place, or such a place, yet that there were such fights we may certainly know. Or though they may mistake in smaller actions, circumstances, or qualifications, of Henry the Eighth, of William the Conqueror, &c.; yet that there were such men we may certainly know. Now the thing we inquire after is, whether such miracles were wrought, or no ?

3. They were actions then famous through the world, and made great alterations in states: they turned the world upside down: cities were converted, countries and rulers were turned Christians. And may not the records in eminent actions be certain ? We have certain records of battles, of sieges, of successions of princes among the heathens before the coming of Christ, and of the great alterations in our own state for a very long time.

4. It was a formal record in the very words of the first witnesses in writing, which hatli been delivered to us, and not only any unwritten testimony ; so that men's various conceivings or expressions could make no alteration.

.5. These records, which we call the Scripture, have been kept publicly in all these ages ; so that the most negligent enemy might have taken notice of its depravation. Yea, God made it the office of his ministers to publish it, whatever came of it, to all the world, and pronounced a woe to them if they preach not this gospel; which preaching was both the divulging of the doctrine and miracles of Christ, and all out of these authentic records. And how then is it possible there should be a universal depravation, and that even in the narration of the matters of fact, when all nations almost, in all these ages since the original of the history, have had these heralds who have proclaimed it to the death ?

G. And it is most apparent that the keepers and pul)lishers of these records, have been men of most eminent piety and honesty. The same testimony which I gave before to prove the honesty of the first witnesses, will prove theirs, though in a lower degree : a good man, but a Christian, was the character given them by their very foes.

7. They have been a multitude, almost innumerable.

8. And these of almost every country under heaven. And let any man tell me how all these, or the chief of them, could possibly meet, to consult about the depraving of the history of the Scripture ? And whether it were possible, if such a multitude were so ridiculously dishonest, yet that they could carry on such a vain design with secrecy and success.

9. Also, the after-divulgers of the miracles of the gospel could have no more self-advancing ends for a long time than the first witnesses.

10. Nay, it ruined them in the world, as it did the first, so that let any man judge whether there be any possibility that so many millions of so many nations should ruin themselves, and give their bodies to be burned, merely to deprave those Scriptures which they do profess ?

11. Consider, also, when this sacred history was so dispersed over the world, whether the cancelling and extirpation of it were not a thing impossible, especially by those means that were attempted ?

12. Nay, there is no history of the enemies that doth mention any universal abolition or depravation of these records. When was the time, and where was the place, that all the Bibles in the world were gathered together, and consumed with fire, or corrupted with forgery ? Indeed, Julian thought by prohibiting the schools of learning to the children of Christians, to have extirpated Christianity ; but Christ did quickly first extirpate him.

13. All those copies of those sacred writings do yet accord, in all things material, which are found through the world. And consider then, if they had been depraved, whether multitudes of copies.

which had escaped that depravation, would not by their diversity, or contradiction, have bewrayed the rest ?

14. It was a matter of such a heinous quahty, both by the sentence of the law, and in the consciences of the preservers and divulgers of it, to add or diminish the least tittle, that they thought it deserved eternal damnation. And I refer it to any man of reason, whether so many thousands of men through the world, could possibly venture upon eternal torment, as well as upon temporal death; and all this to deceive others, by depraving the laws which they look to be judged by, or the history of those miracles which were the grounds of our faith ? Is not the contrary somewhat more than probable ?

15. Furthermore, the histories of the enemies do frequently mention that these Scriptures have been still maintained to the flames. Though they revile the Christians, yet they report this their attestation, which proves the constant succession thereof, and the faithful delivery of Christianity and its records to us. It would be but needless labour to heap up here the several reports of pagan historians, of the numbers of Christians, their obstinacy in their religion, their calamities and torments.

16. These records and their attestations are yet visible over the world, and that in such a form as cannot possibly be counterfeit. Is it not enough to put me out of doubt, whether Homer ever wrote his Iliads, or Demosthenes his Orations, or Virgil and Ovid their several works, or Aristotle his volumes of so many of the sciences, when I see and read these books yet extant; and when I find them such, that I think can hardly now be counterfeited, no, nor imitated ? But if they could, who would have been at the excessive pains, as to have spent his life in compiling such books, that he might deceive the world, and make men believe that they were the works of Aristotle, Ovid, &c.; would not any man rather have taken the honour to himself ? so here the case is alike. Yea, these Scriptures, though they have less of arts and sciences, yet are incomparably more difficult to have been counterfeited than the other ; I mean before the first copies were drawn. I would here stay to show the utter impossibility of any man's forging these writings, but that I intend to make that a peculiar argument.

17. Whether any enemy hath, with weight of argument, confuted the Christian cause ; whether, when they have undertaken it, it hath not been only arguing the improbability, or assigning the miracles to other causes, or an imposing the doctrine delivered by the Christians, rather than these miraculous actions in question; I leave those to judge who have read their writings; yea, whether their common arguments have not been fire and sword.

11. It is an easy matter yet to prove, that the enemies of Scripture have been incompetent witnesses; 1. Being men that were not present, or had not the opportunity to be so well acquainted with the actions of Christ, of the prophets and apostles, as themselves or others, that do attest them. 2. Being men of apparent malice, and possessed with much prejudice against the persons and

things which they oppose. This I might easily and fully prove, if I could stand upon it. 3. They had all worldly advantages attending ther cause, which they were all to lose, with life itself, if they had appeared for Christ. 4. They were generally men of no great conscience, nor moral honesty ; and most of them of most sensual and vicious conversation. This appears by their own writings, both doctrinal and historical. What sensual interpretations of the law did the very strict sect of the Pharisees make! What fleshly laws have the followers of Mahomet! What vices did the laws of the heathens tolerate ! Yea, what foul errors are in the ethics of their most rigid moralists ! And you may be sure that their lives were far worse than their laws; and, indeed, their own histories do acknowledge as much. To save me the labour of mentioning them, read Dr. Hackwell's apology on that subject. Sure such men are incompetent witnesses in any cause between man and man, and would be so judged at any impartial judicature. And, indeed, how is it possible that they should be much better, when they have no laws that teach them either what true happiness is, or what is the way and means to attain it i 5. Besides all this, their testimony was only of the negative, and that in such cases as it could not be valid.

19. Consider, also, that all the adversaries of these miracles and relations could not, with all their arguments or violence, hinder thousands from believing them, in the very time and country where they were done : but that they who did behold them, did generally assent at least to the matter of fact; so that we may say with Austin, either they were miracles or not: if they were, why do you not believe ? if they were not, behold the greatest miracle of all, that so many thousands, even of the beholders, should be so blind, as to believe things that never were, especially in those very times when it was the easiest matter in the world to have disproved such falsehoods. If there should go a report now of a man at London, that should raise the dead, cure the blind, the deaf, the sick, the possessed, feed thousands with five loaves, &c.; and that a multitude of his followers should do the like, and that a great many times over and over, and that in the several parts of the land, in presence of crowds, and thousands of people ; I pray you, judge whether it were not the easiest matter in the world to disprove this, if it were false ; and whether it were possible that w^hole countries and cities should believe it ? Nay, whether the easiness and certainty of disproving it, would not bring them all into extreme contempt ?

Two things will be here objected: first, that then the adversaries' not believing will be as strong against it, as the disciples' believing is for it. Answ. Read what is said before of the adversary's incompetency, and it may satisfy as to this. Secondly, Consider, also, that the generality of the adversaries did believe the matter of fact, which is all that we are now inquiring after. The recital here of those multitudes of testimonies that might be produced from antiquity, is a work that my strait time doth pro-

hibit, but is done by others far more able. Only that well-known passage in Josephus I will here set down : " In the time of Tiberius, there was one Jesus, a wise man, at least, if he was to be called a man, who was a worker of great miracles, and a teacher of such who love the truth, and had many, as well Jews as Gentiles, who clave unto him. This was Christ. And when Pilate, upon his being accused by the men of our nation, had sentenced him to be crucified, yet did they not who had first loved him forsake him : for he appeared to them the third day alive again, according to what the prophets, divinely inspired, had foretold concerning him, as they had done an innumerable number of very strange things besides. And even to this day, both the name and sort of persons called Christians, so named from him, do remain." Thus far Josephus, a Jew by nation and religion, who wrote this about eighty-six years after Christ, and fourteen years before the death of St. John, himself being born about five or six years after Christ.

20. Consider, also, how that every age hath offered multitudes of witnesses, who before were most bitter and violent enemies, and divers of those men of note for learning and place in the world. How mad was Saul against the truth ! Surely it could be no favour to the cause, nor over-much credulity, that caused such men to witness to the death, the truth of that for which they had persecuted others to the death but a little before. Nor could childish fables, or common flying tales, have so mightily wrought with men of learning and understanding: for some such were Christians in all ages.

21. Nay, observe but the confessions of these adversaries, when they came to believe : how generally and ingenuously they acknowledge their former ignorance and prejudice to have been the cause of their unbelief.

22. Consider, also, how unable all the enemies of the gospel have been to abolish these sacred records. They could burn those witnesses by thousands, but yet they could never either hinder their succession, or extinguish their testimonies.

23. Nay, the most eminent adversaries have had the most eminent ruin : as Antiochus, Herod, Julian, with multitudes more. This stone having fallen upon them, hath ground them to powder.

24. It were not difficult here to collect from unquestioned authors, a constant succession of wonders, at least, to have in several ages accompanied the attestation of this truth; and notable judgments that have befallen the persecutors of it. And though the papists, by their fictions and fabulous legends, have done more wrong to the Christian cause, than ever they are able to repair; yet unquestionable history doth afford us very many examples : and even many of those actions which they have deformed with their fabulous additions, might yet for the substance have much truth : and God might, even in the times of popery, work some of these wonders, though not to confirm their religion as it was popish, yet to confirm it as it was Christian; for, as he had then his church, and then his Scripture, so had he then his special providences to confirm his church in their belief, and to silence the

several enemies of the faith. And therefore I advise those who, in their inconsiderate zeal, are apt to reject all these histories of Providence, merely because they were written by papists, or because some witnesses to the truth were a little leavened with some popish errors, that they would first view them, and consider of their probability of truth or falsehood, that so they may pick out the truth, and not reject all together in the lump; otherwise, in their zeal against popery, they should injure Christianity.

And now I leave any man to judge, whether we have not had an infallible way of receiving these records from the first witnesses ?

Not that every of the particulars before mentioned are necessary to the proving our certain receiving the authentic records without depravation ; for you may perceive, that almost any two or three of them might suffice; and that divers of them are from abundance for fuller confirmation.

Sect. IV. And thus I have done with this first argument, drawn from the miracles which prove the doctrines and writings to be of God. But I must satisfy the scruples of some objections against before I proceed. First, Some will question, whe- this argument anther this be not, 1. To resolve our faith into the *"■^'■^^• testimony of man : 2. And so make it a human faith : and so, 3. To jump in tills with the papists, who believe the Scripture for the authority of the church, and to argue circularly in this, as they. To this I answer :

First : I make in this argument the resolution of my faith into the miracles wrought, as testimonies Divine to confirm the doctrine. If you ask, why I believe the doctrine to be of God ? I answer, because it was confirmed by many undeniable miracles. If you ask, why I believe those miracles to be from God ? I answer, because no created power can work a miracle : so that the testimony of man is not the reason of my believing, but only the means by which this matter of fact is brought down to my knowledge. Again, our faith cannot be said to be resolved into that which we give in answer to your last interrogation, except your question be only still of the proper grounds of faith. Uut if you change your question, from What is the ground of my faith .'' to What is the means of conveying down the history to me ? then my faith is not resolved into this means. Yet this means, or some other equivalent, I acknowledge so necessary, that without it I had never been like to have believed. 2. This shows you also that I argue not in the popish circle, nor take my faith on their common grounds. For, first, when you ask them. How know you the testimony of the church to be infallible ? they prove it again by Scripture; and there is their circle. But as I trust not on the authority of the Romish church only, as they do; no, nor properly to the authority of any church; no, nor only to the testimony of the church, but also to the testimony of the enemies themselves : so do I prove the validity of the testimony I bring from nature, and well-known principles in reason, and not from Scripture itself, as you may see before. 3. There is a human testimony, which is also Divine; and

so a human faith, which is also in some sort Divine. Few of God's extraordinary revelations have heen immediate ; the best schoolmen think none at all; but either by angels, or by Jesus himself, who was man as well as God. You will acknowledge if God reveal it to an angel, and the angel to Moses, and Moses to Israel, this is a Divine revelation to Israel. For that is called a Divine revelation, which we are certain that God doth any way reveal. Now, I would fain know, why that which God doth naturally and certainly reveal to all men, may not as properly be called a Divine revelation, as that which he reveals by the Spirit to a few. Is not this truth from God, that the senses' apprehension of their object, rightly stated, is certain, as well as this, " Jesus Christ was born of a Virgin ?" &c. Though a saint or an angel be a fitter messenger to reveal the things of the Spirit, yet any man may be a messenger to reveal the things of the flesh. An ungodly man, if he have better eyes and ears, may be a better messenger or witness of that matter of fact which he seeth and heareth, than a godlier man that is blind or deaf, especially in cases wherein that ungodly man hath no provocation to speak falsely; and, most of all, if his testimony be against himself. I take that relation, whereby I know that there was a fight at York, &c. to be of God, though wicked men were the witnesses. For I take it for an undeniable maxim, that there is no truth but of God, only it is derived unto us by various means.

Sect. V. 2. And as I have evidently discovered the full certainty of this testimony of man, concerning the forementioned matter of fact; so I will show you why I choose this for my first and main argument; and also that no man can believe without the foresaid human testimony. First, then, I demand with myself, by what argument did Moses and Christ evince to the world the verity of their doctrine ? and I find it was chiefly by this of miracles ; and, sure, Christ knew the best argument to prove the Divine authority of his doctrine; and that which was the best then, is the best still. If ourselves had lived in the days of Christ, should we have believed a poor man to have been God, the Saviour, the Judge of the world, without miracles to prove this to us ? nay, would it have been our duty to have believed ? Doth not Christ say, " If I had not done the works that no man else can do, ye had not had sin?" that is, your not believing me to be the Messias had been no sin: for no man is bound to believe that which was never convincingly revealed.

What the sin against And I think that this is it which is called the the Holy Ghost is. ^m against the Holy Ghost,* when men will not

* I confess I kept silent this opinion and exposition some years, because I knew no man that did hold it; and I am afraid of rash adventuring on novelty, though resolved not to reject any revealed trutli. But since, I find great Athanasius hath written a tractate on the sin against the Holy Ghost, maintaining the very same exposition which I here give (or with very small difference ; though I assent not to his application in the end of all to the Arians) ; which being from one of so great authority, and explaining it more fully than I might do in this short digression, I desire the learned, who rejected my exposition, to peruse it; where also you may find his confutation of the subtle, but

be convinced by miracles, that Jesus is the Christ. That which some divines judge to be the sin against the Holy Ghost, an opposing the known truth only out of malice against it, it is a question whether human nature be capable of. And whether all human opposition to truth be not through ignorance, or prevalency of the sensual lusts; and so all malice against truth, is only against it as conceived to be falsehood, or else as it appoareth an enemy to our sensual desires : else how doth man's understanding, as it is an understanding, naturally choose truth, either real or appearing, for its object i So that, I think, none can be guilty of malice against truth as truth ; and to be at enmity with truth for opposing our sensuality, is a sin that every man in the world hath been, in some measure, guilty of. And, indeed, our divines do so define the sin against the Holy Ghost, that I could never yet understand by their definition what it might be : some placing it m an act incompatible with the rational soul, and others making it but gradually to differ from other sins,* which hath cast so many into terror of soul, because they could never find out that gradual difference.

The sense of the place, which the whole context, if you view it deliberately, will show you, seems to me to be this : as if Christ had said. While you believed not the testimony of the prophets, yet there w^as hope; the testimony of John Baptist might have convinced you ; yea, when you believed not John, yet you might have been convinced by my own doctrine ; yea, though you did not believe my doctrine, yet there was hope you might have been convinced by my miracles. But when you accuse them to be the works of Beelzebub, and ascribe the work of the Divine power, or Spirit, to the prince of devils, what more hope ? I will, after my ascension, send the Holy Ghost upon my disciples, that they may work miracles to convince the world, that they who will believe no other testimony, may yet, through this, believe: but if you sin against this Holy Ghost, that is, if they will not believe for all these miracles, for the Scripture frequently calls faith by the name of obedience, and unbelief by the name of sin, there is no other more convincing testimony left, and so their sin of unbelief is incurable, and consequently unpardonable : and therefore he that speaketh against the Son of man, that is, denieth his testimony of himself, it shall be forgiven him, if he yet believe this testimony of the Spirit; but they that continue unbelievers for all this, and so reproach the testimony that should convince them, as you do, shall never be forgiven, because they cannot perform the condition of forgiveness.

This I think to be the sense of the text; and the rather, when I consider, what sin it w^as that these Pharisees committed; for sure that which is commonly judged to be the sin against the Holy Ghost, I no where find that Christ doth accuse them of; but the

unsound opinion of Origcn about this sin, as also of the opinion of Theognostus, though I know some do question that book, but on weak grounds. See my Discourse of the Sin against the Holy Ghost, in my third part of the Unreasonableness of Infidelity.

* How Hunnius was assaulted with this temptation, " that he sinned against the Holy Ghost," you may read in his life and death : and it is still a common temptation. Matt. sii. 24, &c.; Mark iu. 28 ; John v. 39, 43, 45_47 ; xv. 22, 24.

Scripture seemeth to speak on the contrary, " that through ignorance they did it," Acts iii. 17 ; " for had they known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory," 1 Cor. ii. 8. And, indeed, it is a thing to me altogether incredible, that these Pharisees should know Christ to be the Messiah, whom they so desirously expected, and to be the Son of God, and Judge of all men, and yet to crucify him through mere malice : charge them not with this, till you can show some scripture that charged them with it.

Object. Why, then, there is no sin against the Holy Ghost, now miracles are ceased ?

Answ. Yes: though the miracles are ceased, yet their testimony doth still live; the death and resurrection of Christ are past, and yet men may sin against that death and resurrection. So that, I think, when men will not believe that Jesus is the Christ, though they are convinced, by undeniable arguments, of the miracles which both himself and his disciples wrought; this is now the sin against the Holy Ghost. And, therefore, take heed of slighting this argument.

Sect. VI. 2. And here would I have those men, who cannot endure this resting upon human testimony,* to consider of what necessity it is for the producing of our faith. Something must be taken upon trust from man, whether they will or no; and yet no uncertainty in our faith neither. 1. The mere illiterate man must take it upon trust, that the book is a Bible which he hears read; for else, he knows not but it may be some other book : 2. That those w^ords are in it, which the reader pronounceth : 3. That it is translated truly out of the original languages : 4. That the Hebrew and Greek copies, out of which it was translated, are true, authentic copies : 5. That it was originally written in these languages: 6. Yea, and the meaning of divers Scripture passages, which cannot he understood without the knowledge of Jewish customs of chronology, of geography, &c. though the words were ever so exactly translated. All these, with many more, the vulgar must take upon the word of their teachers; and, indeed, a faith merely human, is a necessary preparative to a faith Divine, in respect of some means, and prcECognita necessary thereto. If a scholar will not take his master's word that such letters have such or such a power, or do spell so or so ; or that such a Latin or Greek word hath such a signification ; when will he learn, or how will he know ? Nay, how do the most learned linguists know the signification of words in any language, and so in the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures, but only upon the credit of their teachers and authors ? and yet certain

* Yet do I believe that that of 2 Pet. i. 20, is generally mistaken; as if the apostles did deny private men the liberty of interpreting Scriptures, even for themselves ; when it is in regard of the object, and not of the interpreter, that the apostle calleth it " private :" as if he should say. The prophets are a sure testimony of the doctrine of Christianity : but then you must understand that they arc not to be interpreted of the private'men that spoke them ; for they were but types of Christ the public person. So Psal. ii. and xvi. &c. are to be interpreted of Christ, and not of David only, a private person, and but a type of Christ in all : as Philip answereth the question of the eunuch in Acts viii. Of whom doth the prophet speak ; of himself, privately, or some other more public man ? This is, I think, the true meaning of Philip.

enough too in the main. Tradition is not so useless to tlie world or the church as sonic would have it. Though the papists do sinfully plead it against the sullicioncy of Scripture, yet Scripture sufficiency or perfection is only in stto fjciwrc, in its own kind, not hi ouiiii (jencre, not sufficient for every purpose. Scripture is a sufficient rule of faith and life ; hut not a sufficient means of conveying itself to all generations and persons. If human testimony had not heen necessary, why should Christ have men to he witnesses in the beginning; and also still instruments of persuading others, and attesting the verily of these sacred records to those that cannot otherwise come to know them ?

And, doubtless, this is the chief use of the ministers in the church,* and the great end of God in the stating and continuing their function ; that what men are govenfors'and"'^'^^ uncapable of believing explicitly, with a faith pro- teachers, and how perly Divine, that they might receive implicitly, obeyed^ *"""'" ^^ and upon the word of their teachers, with a human faith. Every man should labour indeed to see with his own eyes, and to know all that God hath revealed, and to be wiser than his teachers ; but every man cannot bestow that time and pains in the study of languages and sciences, without which that knowledge is not now attained. We may rather wish than hope, that all the Lord's people were prophets. The church of Christ hath been long in a very doleful plight betwixt these two extremes, taking all things upon trust from our teachers, and taking nothing upon trust: and yet those very men w^ho so disclaim taking upon trust, do themselves take as much upon trust as others.

Why else are ministers called the eyes and the hands of the body; stewards of the mysteries, and of the house of God ; overseers, rulers, and governors of the church ; and such as must give the children their meat in due season; fathers of their people ? &c. Surely they clearly know truth and duty must be received from any one, though but a child; and known error and iniquity must be received from none, though an angel from heaven. ^^ hat, then, is that we are so often required to obey our teaching rulers in ? Surely it is not so much in the receiving of new-instituted ceremonies from them, which they call things indifferent: but, as in all professions, the scholar must take his master's word in learning, till he can grow up to know the things in their own evidence ; and as men will take the words of any artificers in the matters that concern their own trade; and as every wise patient will trust the judgment of his physician, except he know as much himself; and

* If the revilers of the ministers of Christ, with -whom this Ticious, age .nboundeth, (lid know what power ministers had, both in the apostles' times, and many hundred years after, and what strict discipline was used, as they may see in holy Cyprian among others, they would not for shame charge us with tyranny and proud domination. It is wonderful that religion then had that awe and power on men's consciences, that they would make men stoop to public confessions and penitential lamentationf;, p,t the censure of the church guides, even when the censures were rigid, and when tlie magistrates did not second them, yea, when it was a hazard to their lives to be known Christians. And yet, now Christianity is in credit, even those that seem religious, do judge Christ's discipline to be tyranny, and subjection to it to be intolerable slavery.

■\I

the client will take the word of his lawyer: so also Christ hath ordered that the more strong and knowing should be teachers in his school, and the young and ignorant should believe them and obey them, till they can reach to understand the things themselves. So that the matters which we must receive upon trust from our teachers^ are those which we cannot reach to know ourselves, and therefore must either take them upon the word of others, or not receive them at all: so that, if these rulers and stewards do require us to believe, when we know not ourselves whether it be truth or not; or if they require us to obey, when we know not ourselves whether it be a duty commanded by God or not; here it is that we ought to obey them. For though we know not whether God hath revealed such a point, or commanded such an action, yet that he hath commanded us to obey them that rule over us, who preach to us the word of God, this we certainly know, Heb. xiii. 7. Yet I think we are not so strictly tied to the judgment of a weak minister of our own, as to take his word before another's, that is more judicious, in a neighbour congregation. Nor do I think, if we see but an appearance of his erring, that we should carelessly go on in believing and obeying him without a diligent searching after the truth : even a likelihood of his mistake must quicken us to further inquiry, and may, during that inquiry, suspend our belief and obedience. For where we are able to reach to know probabilities in divine things, we may with diligence possibly reach to that degree of certainty which our teachers themselves have attained, or at least to understand the reason of their doctrine. But still remember what I said before, that fundamentals must be believed with a faith explicit, absolute, and Divine.

And thus I have showed the flat necessity of taking much upon the testimony of man; and that some of these human testimonies are so certain, that they may well be called Divine. I conclude all with this intimation : j'ou may see by this, of what singular use are the monuments of antiquity, and the knowledge thereof, for the breeding and strengthening of the Christian faith ; especially the histories of those times. I would not persuade you to bestow so much time in the reading of the fathers, in reference to their judgment in matters of doctrine ; nor follow them in all things, as some do. God's word is a sufficient rule ; and latter times haye afforded far better expositors. But in reference to matters of fact, for confirming the miracles mentioned in Scripture, and relating the wonderful providences since, I would they were read a hundred times more; not only the writers of the church, but even the histories of the enemies, and all other antiquities. Little do most consider how useful these are to the Christian faith. And therefore our learned antiquaries are highly to be honoured, and exceeding useful instruments in the church.

If yet any man be so blind that he think it uncertain whether these be the same books which were written by the apostles ; I would ask him by what assurance he holdeth his lands ? 1. How knoweth he that his deeds, conveyances, or leases, are not coun-

terfeit; or that they are tlie same that his forefathers niacle ? They have notliing but men's words for it ; and yet they think they are certain that their lands are their own. 2. And whereas they hold all they have by the law of the land, how know they that th^se laws are not counterfeit; and that they are the same laws which were made by such kings and parliaments so long ago, and not forg(Hl since !* They have nothing but men's words for all this. And yet if this be uncertain, then any man, lord, or knight, or gentleman, may be turned out of all he hath, as if he had no certain tenure or assurance. And is it not evident that those laws which are so kept and practised through all the land, cannot possibly be counterlbit, but it would have been publicly known? And yet a word in the statute-book may be falsely printed. And much more certain it is that the Scriptures cannot be counterfeit, because it is not in one kingdom only, but in all the world that they have been used, and the copies dispersed ; and ministers in office still to preach it, and publish it. So that it could not be generally and purposely corrupted, except all the world should have met and combined together for that end, which could not be done in secret, but all must know of it. And yet many Bibles may be here or there misprinted or miswritten; but then there would be copies enough to correct it by. So that if it be uncertain whether these be the very books which the apostles wrote, then nothing in the world is certain but what we see. And why we may not as well question our eyesight, I do not know. I would believe a thousand other men's eyesight before mine own alone.

CHAPTER V.

THE SECOND ARGUMENT.

Sect. I. I come now to my second argument, to prove Scripture to be the word of God ; and it is this :

If the Scripture be neither the invention of devils nor of men, then it can be from none but God ;* but that'it is neither of devils, nor merely of men, I shall now prove ; for, I suppose, none will question that major proposition. First, Not from devils ; for, First, They cannot work miracles to confirm them. Secondly, It would not stand with God's sovereignty over them, or with the goodness, wisdom, and faithfulness of governing the world, to suffer Satan to make laws, and confirm them with wonders, and obtrude them upon the world in the name of God, and all this without disclaiming them, or giving the world any notice of the forgery. Thirdly,!

* I take it for granted that good angels could not be guilty of forging the Scripture. t As Origen many times demands of Celsus, if magicians by evil powers could work miiacles, would they do it for the leading men from sin to exact holiness and justice? M 2

Would Satan speak so much for God? so seek his glory as the Scripture doth .' Would he so vilify and reproach himself, and make known himself to be the hatefuUest and most miserable of all creatures ? Would he so fully discover his own wiles, his temptations, his methods of deceiving, and give men such powerful warning to beware of his snares, and such excellent means to conquer himself? Would the devil lay such a design for men's salvation ? Would he show them their danger, and direct them to escape it ? Would he so mightily labour to promote all truth and goodness, and the happiness of mankind, as the Scripture doth ? Let any man tell me what book or project in the world did ever so mightily overthrow the kingdom of Satan as this book, and this gospel design : and would Satan be such an enemy to his own kingdom ? Fourthly, If Satan were the author, he would never be so unweariedly and subtlely industrious, to draw the world to unbelief, and to break the laws which this book containeth, as his constant temptations do sensibly tell many a poor soul that he is; would he be so earnest to have his own words rejected, or his own laws broken ? I think this is all clear to any man of reason.

Sect. II. Secondly: That no mere men were the inventors of Scripture, I prove thus : If men were the devisers of it, then it was either good men or bad; but it was neither good men nor bad; therefore, none.

Though goodness and badness have many degrees, yet under some of these degrees do all men fall. Now, I will show you that it could be neither of these : and. First, Good men they could not be; for you might better say that murderers, traitors, adulterers, parricides, sodomites, &c. were good men, rather than such. To devise laws, and father them upon God ; to feign miracles, and father them upon the word of the Lord; to promise eternal salvation to those that obey them ; to threaten damnation to those that obey them not; to draw the world into a course so destructive to all their worldly happiness, upon a promise of happiness in another world, which they cannot give ; to endeavour so egregiously to cozen all mankind: if all this, or any of this, be consistent with common honesty, nay, if it be not as horrible wickedness as can be conmiitted, then I confess I have lost my reason. Much less, then, could such a number of good men in all ages, till Scriptures were finished, be guilty of such unexpressible crimes: neither will it here be any evasion to say, they were men of a middle temper, partly good and partly bad ; for these are not actions of a middle nature, nor such as will stand with any remnants of ingenuity or humanity. We have known wicked persons, too many, and too bad ; yet where or when did we ever know any that attempted any so more than hellish an enterprise ? False prophets have sent abroad indeed particular falsehoods; but who hath adventured upon such a system as this ? Mahomet's example, indeed, comes nearest to such a villany; yet doth not he pretend to the hundredth part of so many miracles, nor so great as the Scripture relateth, nor doth pretend to be God, nor any more than a great prophet:

Chap. V. THE SAINTS' EVEllLASTlNCi REST. KJ.O

trusting more to his sword for success, than to the authority or truth ot" his pretended revehvtions : not denying the truth oi' much of the Scripture; hut adding his Alcoran, partly drawn from Scripture, and partly fitted with fleshly liberties and promises to his own ends. And doth not every man among us take that act of Mahomet to be one of the vilest that the sun hath seen ; and judge of the man himself accordingly { So that I think it beyond doubt, that no one good man, nmch less so great a number as were the penmen of Scripture, could devise it of their own brain, and thrust it on the world.

Secondly : And it is as certain that no bad men did devise the Scriptures. Could wicked deceivers so highly advance the glory of God, and labour so mightily to honour him in the world ? would they have so vilified themselves, and acknowledged their faults ? could such an admirable, undeniable spirit of holiness, righteousness, and self-denial, which runs through every vein of Scripture, have been inspired into it from the invention of the wicked ? VVould wicked men have been so wise, or so zealous for the suppression of w iekedness, or .-:() earnest to bring the world to reformation ? \\ ould they have been such bitter adversaries to their own ways, and such faithful friends to the ways they hate ? Would they have vilified the ungodly, as the Scripture doth, and pronounced eternal damnation against them ? Would they have extolled the godly, who are so contrary to them, and proclaimed them a people eternally blessed ? Would they have framed such perfect and such spiritual laws; and would they have laid such a design against the flesh, and against all their worldly happiness, as the scope of the Scripture doth carry on ? It is needless, sure, to mention any more particulars : 1 think every man, of the least ingenuity, that considers this, or deliberately vieweth over the frame of the Scriptures, Avill easily confess that it is more than probable that it was never devised by any deceiving sinner; much less, that all the penmen of it in several ages were such wicked deceivers.

So, then, if it w^as neither devised by good men nor hy bad men, then sure by no men ; and, consequently, must of necessity proceed from God.

Sect. III. Secondly, That it proceeded not merely from man, I also prove thus : That which was done without the help of human learning, or any extraordinary endowments of nature, and yet the greatest philosophers could never reach near it, must needs be the effect of a power supernatural; but such is both the doctrine and the miracles in Scripture ; therefore, &c.

It is only the antecedent that here requires proof; which consists of these two branches, both which I shall make clear.

First : That the doctrine of Scripture was compiled, and the miracles done, without the help of much human learning, or any extraordinary natural endowments.

Secondly :, That yet the most learned philosophers never could reach near the gospel mysteries, nor ever work the miracles that were then done.

But. I shall say most to the doctrine. For the proof of the former, consider,

First: The whole world was, in the times of Moses and the prophets, comparatively unlearned. A kind of learning the Egyptians then had, and some few other, especially consisting in some small skill in astronomy; but it was all but barbarous ignorance, in comparison of the learning of Greece and Europe. Those writings of greatest antiquity, yet extant, do show this. See also Doctor Hackwell, as before.

2. As rare as learning then was, yet did God choose the unlearned of that unlearned time to be instruments and penmen of his choicest Scriptures,* David, who was bred a shepherd, is the penman of those divine, unmatchable psalms. Amos is taken from a herdsman, to be a prophet.

3. But especially in those latter ages, when the world was grown more wise and learned, did God purposely choose the weak, the foolish, the unlearned, to confound them ; a company of poor fishermen, tent-makers, and such-like, must write the laws of the kingdom of Christ; must dive into the spiritual mysteries of the kingdom ; must silence the wise, and disputers of the world ; must be the men that must bring in the world to believe. Doubtless, as God sending David, an unarmed boy, with a sling and a stone against an armed giant, was to make it appear that the victory was from himself; so his sending these unlearned men to preach the gospel, and subdue the world, was to convince both the present and future generations that it was God, and not man, that did the work.

4. Also, the course they took in silencing the learned adversaries, doth show us how little use they made of these human helps. They disputed not with them by the precepts of logic; their arguments were to the Jews, the writings of Moses and the prophets ; and both to Jews and Gentiles, the miracles that were wrought: they argued more with deeds than with words. The blind, lame, the sick that were recovered, were their visible arguments. The languages which they spake, the prophecies which they uttered, and other such supernatural gifts of the Holy Ghost upon them ; these were the things that did convince the world: yet this is no precedent to us, to make as little use of learning as they, because we are not upon the same work, nor yet supplied with their supernatural furniture.

5. The reproaches of their enemies do fully testify this, who cast it still in their teeth, that they were ignorant and unlearned men; and, indeed, that was the great rub that their doctrine found in the world. It was to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness; and therefore it appeared to be the power of God, and not of man. This was it that they discouraged the people with: " Do any of the rulers or Pharisees believe on him ? But this people that know not the law are accursed," John vi. 48, 49.

6. To conclude, the very frame and style of these sacred writings, do fully tell us, that they were none of the logicians, nor eloquent orators, of the world, that did compose them. This is yet to this

day one of the greatest stumbling-blocks in the workl, to hinder men from the reverencing and believing the Scriptures. 'I'hey are still thinking, Surely if they were the very words of God, they would excel all other writings in every kind of excellency ; when, indeed, it discovereth them the more certainly to be of God, because there is in them so little of man. They may as well say, If David had been sent against Goliath from God, he would sure have been the most complete soldier, and most completely armed. The words are but the dish to serve up the sense in ; God is content that the words should not only have in them a savour of humanity, but of nmch iniirmity, so that the work of convincing the workl may be furthered thereby. And I verily think, that tliis is God's great design, in permitting these precious spirits of Divine truth to run in the veins of infirm language, that so men may be convinced, in all succeeding ages, that Scripture is no device of human policy. If the apostles had been learned and subtle men, we should sooner have suspected their finger in the contrivance. Yea, it is observable, that in such as Paul, that had some human learning, yet God would not have them make much use of it, lest the excellency of the cross of Christ should seem to lie in the enticing words of man's wisdom ; and lest the success of the gospel should seem to be more from the ability of the preacher, than from the arm of God.

Besides all this, it may much persuade us that the apostles never contrived the doctrine which they preached, by their sudden and not premeditated setting upon the work. They knew not whither they should go, nor what they should do, when he calls one from his fishing, another from his custom; they knew not what course Christ would take with himself, or them ; no, not a little before he leaves them. Nay, they must not know their employment till he is taken from them. And even then is it revealed to them by parcels and degrees, and that without any study or invention of their own : even after the coming down of the Holy Ghost, Peter did not well understand that the Gentiles must be called, Acts x. All which ignorance of his apostles, and suddenness of revelation, I think was purposely contrived by Christ, to convince the workl that they were not the contrivers of the doctrine which they preached.

Sect. IV. Let us next, then, consider, how far short the learned philosophers have come of this. They that have spent all their days in most painful studies, having the strongest natural endowments to enable them, and the learned teachers, the excellent libraries, the bountiful encouragement and countenance of princes, to further them, and yet, after all this, are very novices in all spiritual things. They cannot tell what the happiness of the soul is, nor where that happiness shall be enjoyed ; nor when, nor how long, nor what are the certain means to attain it; nor who they be that shall possess it. They know nothing how the workl was made, nor how it shall end ; nor know they the God who did create, and cloth sustain it; but, for the most of them, they multiply feigned deities.

But I shall have occasion to open this more fully anon, under the last argument.

CHAPTER VI.

THE THIRD ARGUMENT.

Sect. I. My third argument, whereby I prove the Divine authority of the Scriptures, is this : Those writings which have been owned and fulfilled in several ages by apparent extraordinary providences of God, must needs be of God; but God hath so owned and fulfilled the Scriptures; ergo, they are of God.

The major proposition will not sure be denied. The direct consequence is, that such writings are approved by God ; and if approved by him, then must they needs be his own, because they affirm themselves to be his own. It is beyond all doubt, that God will not interpose his power, and work a succession 5f wonders in the world, for the maintaining or countenancing of any forgery ; especially such as should be a slander against himself.

All the work, therefore, will lie in confirming the minor: where I shall show you, First, By what wonders of providence God hath owned and i'ulfilled the Scriptures; and, Secondly, How it may appear that this was the end of providences.

I. The first sort of providences here to be considered, are those that have been exercised for the church universal. Where these three things present themselves especially to be observed : First, The propagating of the gospel, and raising of the church : Secondly, The defence and continuance of that church: Thirdly, The improbable ways of accomplishing these.

And, First, Consider what an unlikely design, in the judgment of man, did Christ send his apostles upon. To bid a few ignorant mechanics. Go, preach, and make him disciples of all nations. To send his followers into all the world, to make men believe him to be the Saviour of the world, and to charge them to expect salvation no other way. Why, almost all the world might say, they had never seen him : and to tell them in Britain, &c. of one crucified among thieves at Jerusalem, and to charge them to take him for their eternal King; this was a design very unlikely to prevail. When they would have taken him by force, and made him a king, then he refused, and hid himself. But when the world thought they had fully conquered him, when they had seen him dead, and laid him in his sepulchre, then doth he arise and subdue the world. He that would have said, when Christ was on the cross, or in the grave, that within so many weeks many thousands of his murderers should believe him to be their Saviour; or within so many years, so many countries and kingdoms should receive him for their Lord, and lay down their dignities, possessions, and lives at his feet;

would have hardly been believed by any that had heard hiin : and I am confident, they would most of them have acknowledged, that if such a wondt^r should come to pass, it nuist needs be from the linger of God alone. That the kingdoms of the world should become the kingdoms of Christ, was then a matter exceeding improbable. But you may object that, First, It is but a small part of the world that believes. And, Secondly, Christ himself saith, that his flock is little. I answer, First, It is a very great part of the world that are believers at this day, if we consider besides Europe, all the Greek church, and all the believers that arc dispersed in Egypt, -ludea, and most of the Turks' dominions; and the vast empire of Prestor-John in Africa. Secondly, Most countries of the world have received the gospel; but they had but their time: they have sinned away the light, and therefore are now given up to darkness. Thirdly, Though the flock of Christ's elect are small, that shall receive the kingdom ; yet the called, that profess to believe his gospel, are many.

2. Consider, also, as the wonderful raising of the kingdom of Christ in the world, so the wonderful preservation and continuance of it. He sends out his disciples as lambs among wolves, and yet promiseth them deliverance and success. His followers are every where hated through the world ; their enemies are numerous as the sands of the sea : the greatest princes and potentates are commonly their greatest enemies, who, one would think, might command their extirpation, and procure their ruin with a word of their mouths. The learned men, and great wits of the world, are commonly their most keen and confident adversaries ; who, one would think, by their wit, should easily overreach them, and by their learning befool them, and by their policy contrive some course for their overthrow. Nay, which is more wonderful than all, the very common professors of the faith of Christ are as great haters of the sincere and zealous professors, almost, if not altogether, as are the very Turks and pagans ; and those that do acknowledge Christ for their Saviour, do yet so abhor the strictness and spirituality of his laws and ways, that his sincere subjects are in more danger of them, than of the most open enemies : whereas, in other religions, the forwardest in their religion are best esteemed of. Besides the temptations of Satan, the unwillingness of the flesh, because of the worldly comforts which we must renounce, and the tedious, strict conversation which we must undertake, these are greater opposers of the kingdom of Christ than all the rest; yet in despite of all these, is this kingdom maintained, the subjects increased, and these spiritual laws entertained and obeyed: and the church remains both firm and stedfast, as the rocks in the sea, while the waves that beat upon it do break themselves in pieces.

3. Consider, also, in what way Christ doth thus spread his gospel, and preserve his church. First, Not by worldly might and power, nor by compelling men to profess him by the sword. Indeed, when men do profess themselves voluntarily to be his subjects, he hath authorized the sword to sec in part to the execution

of his laws, and to punish those that break the laws which they have accepted. But to bring men in from the world into his church, from paganism, Turkism, or Judaism, to Christianity ; he never gave the sword any such commission : he never levied an army to advance his dominion; nor sent forth his followers as so many commanders to subdue the nations to him by force, and spare none that will not become Christians; he will have none but those that voluntarily list themselves under him; he sent out ministers, and not magistrates or commanders, to bring in the world. Yea, though he be truly willing of men's happiness in receiving him, and therefore earnestly inviteth them thereto, yet he lets them know that he will be no loser by them; as their service cannot advantage him, their neglect cannot hurt him ; he lets them know that he hath no need of them, and that his beseeching of them is for their own souls, and that he will be beholden to none of them all for their service; if they know where to have a better master, let them take their course ; even the kings of the earth shall stoop to his terms, and be thankful too, or else they are no servants for him : his house is not so open, as to welcome all comers, but only those that will submit to his laws, and accept of him upon his own conditions ; therefore hath he told men the worst, as well as the best, that if they will be discouraged or frighted from him, let them go ; he tells them of poverty, of disgrace, of losing their lives, or else they cannot be his disciples. And is not this an unlikely way to win men to him; or to bring in so much of the world to worship him ? He flatters none, he humoureth none ; he hath not formed his laws and ways to please them. Nay, which is yet more, he is as strict in turning some men out of his service, as other masters would be ready to take them in. Therefore he hath required all his followers to disclaim all such as are obstinate offenders, and not so much as to eat, or be familiar with them. How contrary to all this is the course of the great commanders of the world, when they would enlarge their dominions, or procure themselves followers ! They have no course but to force men, or to flatter them. How contrary was Mahomet's course in propagating his kingdom ! he levieth an army, and conquers some adjoining parties ; and, as his success increaseth, so doth his presumption : he enticeth all sorts to come to his camp ; he maketh laws that would please their fleshly lusts; he promiseth beautiful sights, and fair women, and such carnal delights in another -world: in a word, as his kingdom was planted, so hath it been preserved by no other ways, but force and flattery. But Christ hath not one word for either of these : his compelling men to come in, is but rational persuading.

2. Nay, yet more than this, he makes his church to grow by sufferings ; when others increase their dominions by the destroying of their enemies, he increaseth his by suffering them to kill his subjects; an unlikely way, one would think, to make the world either love or serve him. There have been few ages, since the first appearing of the gospel in the world, wherein the earth hath

not drunk in the blood of believers. In the beginning it was u rare case to be a faithful pastor, and not a martyr. Thirty-three Roman bishops successively are said to have been martyred; thousands, yea, ten thousands slaughtered at a time ; insomuch that Gregory and Cyprian cry out, that the witnesses who had died for the truth of the gospel, were to men innumerable; that the world was all over tilled with their blood; and they that were left alive to behold it, were not so many as those that were slain ; that no war did consume so many : and the histories of the enemies acknowledge almost as much.

Now, whether this be a likely course to gain disciples, and to subdue the world, you may easily judge. Yet did the church never thrive better than by persecution; what they got not in number, yet they got in zeal and excellency of professors ; and seldom hath it lost more than in prosperity : yea, when the vulgar professors have enjoyed prosperity, yet persecution hath almost ever been the lot of the zealous and sincere.

And thus I have showed you those wonders of Providence, which have been exercised for the church universal.

Sect. II. Secondly: Consider, next, what strange providences have been exercised to particular churches. I cannot stand to heap up particular examples, you may find them frequent in the histories of the church ; what deliverances cities and countries have had, what victories those princes have had, who have been their defenders, as Constantine the Great, and many since; and what apparent manifestations of God's hand in all. Yea, he that reads but the histories of latter times, where wars have been managed for defence of the doctrine of this Scripture, and obedience thereto, against the corruptions and persecutions of Rome, may see more apparent discoveries of the hand of God; yea, even in those wars where the enemy hath at last prevailed, as in Bohemia, in Zisca's time, in France, at Merindol and Cabriers. The history of Belgia will show it clearly: so will the strange preservation of the poor city of Geneva. But all these are further from us; God hath brought such experiments home to our hand. If we should overlook the strange providences that produced the Reformation in the times of Henry the Eighth, Edward the Sixth, Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth, and King James ; yet even the strange passages of these years past, have been such that might silence an atheist, or an antiscripturist: to see the various straits that God hath brought his people through ; the unlikely means by which he still performed it; the unexpected events of most undertakings; the uncontrived and unthought-of ways which men have been led in; the strange managing of councils and actions ; the plain appearance of an extraordinary providence, and the plain interposition of an Almighty arm, which hath appeared in almost all our public affairs, in all which God hath not only manifested a special providence, but also notably disowned men's sins, encouraged prayer, and fulfilled promises; though as to the particular exposition of some of his providences, we may hear him to say to us, as some-

time to Peter, " What I do thou knowest not now, but hereafter thou shalt know."

Sect. III. Thirdly : Consider, also, of the strange judgments which in all ages have overtaken the most eminent of the enemies of the Scriptures. Besides Antiochus, Herod, Pilate, the persecuting emperors, especially Julian; church histories will acquaint you with multitudes more : Fox's Book of Martyrs will tell you of many undeniable remarkable judgments on those adversaries of pure religion, whose greatest wickedness is against these Scriptures, subjecting them to their church, denying them the people, and setting up their traditions as equal to them. Yea, our own times have afforded us most evident examples. Sure God hath forced many of his enemies to acknowledge in their anguish the truth of his threatenings, and cry out, as Julian, Vicisti, Galilcee.

Sect. IV, Fourthly : Consider, also, the eminent judgments of God which have befallen the vile transgressors of most of his laws. Besides all the voluminous histories that make frequent mention of this, I refer you to Dr. Beard's " Theatre of God's Judgments," and the book entitled " God's Judgments upon Sabbath-breakers :" and it is like your own observations may add much.*

Sect. V. Fifthly : Consider, further, of the eminent providences that have been exercised for the bodies and states of particular believers. The strange deliverance of many intended to martyrdom, as you have many instances in the " Acts and Monuments ;" besides those in Eusebius, and others, that mention the stories of the first persecutions. If it were convenient here to make particular mention of men's names, I could name you many, who, of late, have received such strange preservations, even against the common course of nature, that might convince an atheist of the finger of God therein. But this is so ordinary, that I am persuaded there is scarce a godly, experienced Christian that carefully observes and faithfully recordeth the providences of God toward him, but is able to bring forth some such experiment, and to show you some such strange and unusual mercies, which may plainly discover an Almighty Disposer, making good the promises of this Scripture to his servants: some in desperate diseases of body, some in other apparent dangers, delivered so suddenly, or so much against the common course of nature, when all the best remedies have failed, that no second cause could have any hand in their deliverance.

Sixthly, and lastly: Consider the fstrange and evident dealing of God with the souls and consciences both of believers and unbelievers. What pangs of hellish despair have many enemies of the truth been brought to ! How doth God extend the spirits of his

* How many churches in England were torn at once with terrible lightning; and almost no place else but churches were touched, especially at the lower part of Devonshire, where many were scorched, maimed, and some had their brains struck out as they sat in church ! And at the church of Antliony, in Cornwall, near Plymouth, on Whitsunday, 1640. See the relation in print.

t Was it not near a miracle, that God wrought for Mrs. Honywood, when she threw the glass unto the wall, saying, " If tliis glass break not, I may be saved," &c. and yet took it up whole 1

own people ; bruising, breaking, killing them wilh terrors, and then healing, raising, and hlling tluMU with joys which they cannot utter ! 1 low variously doth he mould them ! Sometimes they are brought to tlie ,i,'ates of ht^ll, sometimes they are ravished with the foretastes of heaven : the proudest spirits are made to stoop ; the lowest are raised to an invincible courage. In a word, the workings of God upon the souls of his people, are so clear and strange, that you may trace a supernatural causality through them all. Besides the admirable efficacy of them in changing men's hearts, and making them to ditler from what they were, and from all others, in all holiness, righteousness, and self-denial.

Sect. VI. Secondly : But though it be undeniable that all these are the extraordinary working of God; yet how do they confirm the authority of Scripture? How doth it appear that they have any such ends ? Answer : that is it I come to show you next.

First: Some of these works do carry their end apparently with them, and manifest it in the event. The forementioned providences for raising and preserving the church, are such as show us their own ends.

Secondly: They are most usually wrought for the friends and followers of Scripture, and against the enemies and disobeyers of it.

Thirdly : They are the plain fulfilling of the predictions of Scripture. The judgments on the offenders are the plain fulfilling of its threatenings, and the mercies to believers are the plain fulfilling of its promises. As for example ; as unlikely as it was, yet Christ foretold his apostles that when he was lifted up he would draw all men to him. He sent them upon an errand as unlikely to be so successful as any in the world; and yet he told them just what success they should find, how good to their message, and how hard to their persons. The promise was of old, to give Christ " the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession," Psal. ii. 2—5. Christ promiseth to be with his messengers to the end of the world. Why now how punctually^ doth he accomplish all this ! What particular prophecies of Scripture have been fulfilled, and w'hen, and how, hath already been discovered by others, and therefore I shall overpass that.

Fourthly : These judgments have been usually executed on offenders, at the very time when they have been either opposing or violating Scripture ; and these mercies bestowed chiefly upon believers at such a time, when they have been most engaged in defence of or obedience to the Scriptures.

Fifthly: They usually proceed in such effectual sort, that they force the enemies and ungodly to confess the cause ; yea, and oft-times the very standers-by : so do they force believers also to see, that God makes good his word in all their mercies.

Sixthly : They are performed in answer to the prayers of believers ; while they urge God with the promises of Scripture, then doth he appear in these evident providences. This is a common and powerful argument, which most Christians may draw from their own experiences. Had we no other argument to prove Scrip-

ture to be the word of God, but only the strange success of the prayers of the saints, while they trust upon and plead the promises with fervency, I think it might much confirm experienced men. What wonders, yea, what apparent miracles did the prayers of former Christians procure ! hence the Christian soldiers, in their army, were called the thundering legion ; they could do more by their prayers, than the rest by their arms. Hence Gregory was called 9av;taTowp709, from his frequent miracles among the heathen. And Vincentius reporteth, that Sulpitius Bituricensis did expel the devils, heal the sick, and raise the dead, by praying to God for them. When Myconius, a godly divine, lay sick of that consumption, which is called phthisis, Luther prayed earnestly that he might be recovered, and that he might not die before himself. And so confident was he of the grant of his desire, that he writes boldly to Myconius, that he should not die nowj but should remain yet longer upon this earth. Upon these prayers did Myconius presently revive, as from the dead, and live six years after, till Luther was dead: and himself hath largely written the story, and professed, that when he heard Luther's letters, he seemed to hear that voice of Christ, " Lazarus, come forth." Yea, so powerful and prevailing was Luther in prayer, that Justus Jonas writes of him, iste vir potuit quod voliiit, that man could do what he would.

What was it less than a miracle in Baynam the martyr, who told his persecutors, Lo ! here is a miracle; I feel no more pain in this fire than in a bed of down; it is as sweet to me as a bed of roses ? So Bishop Farrar, who could say before he went to the fire. If I stir in the fire, believe not my doctrine; and accordingly remained unmoved. Theodorus the martyr, in the midst of his torment, had one in the shape of a young man, as he thought, came and wiped off his sweat, and eased him of his pain.

But what need I fetch examples so far off; or to recite the multitudes of them which church history doth afford us ? Is there ever a praying Christian here who knoweth what it is importunately to strive with God, and to plead his promises with him believ-ingly, that cannot give in his experiences of most remarkable answers ? I know men's atheism and infidelity will never want somewhat to say against the most eminent providences, though they were miracles themselves. That nature which is so ignorant of God, and at enmity with him, will not acknowledge him in his clear discoveries to the world, but will ascribe all to fortune or nature, or some such idol, which indeed is nothing. But when mercies are granted in the very time of prayer, and that when to reason there is no hope, and that without the help of any other means or creatures, yea, and perhaps many times over and over, is not this as plain as if God from heaven should say to us, I am fulfilling to thee the true word of my promises in Christ my Son ? How many times have I known the prayer of faith to save the sick, when all physicians have given them up for dead! * James v.

* Among abundance of instances that I could give, my conscience commandeth me

13—16. It hath been my own case more than once, or twice, or ten times: when means have all failed, and the hitchest art or reason has sentenced me hopeless, yet have 1 been relieved by the provalency of fervent prayer, and that, as the physician saith, tulo, cilo, I't jucHude; My flesli and my heart failed, i)ut God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. And though he yet keep me under necessary weakness, and wholesome sickness, and certain expectation of further necessities and assaults, yet am I constrained by most convincing experiences, to set up this stone of remembrance, and publicly, to the praise of the Almighty, to acknowledge that certainly God is true to his promises, and that they are indeed his own infallible word, and that it is a most excellent privilege to have interest in God, and a spirit of supplication to be importunate with him. I doubt not but most Christians that observe the Spirit and providences, are able to attest this prevalency of prayer by their own experiences.

Object. Perhaps you will say. If these rare examples were common, I would believe.

Ansic. First: If they were common, they would be slighted, as common wonders are.

Secondly : Importunate prayer is not common, though formal babbling be.

Thirdly: The evident returns of prayer are ordinary to the faithful.

. Fourthly : If wonders were common, we should live by sense, and not by faith.

Fifthly: I answer, in the words of Augustine, God letteth not every saint partake of miracles, lest the weak should be deceived with this pernicious error, to prefer miracles as better than the works of righteousness, whereby eternal life is attained.

And let me now add, that if the Scriptures were not the word of God, undoubtedly there would have been as many wonders of Providence for the disgracing it, as have been for the defending it; and God would have destroyed the preachers of it, as the greatest abusers of him, and all the world, that should father such a thing

here to give you this one, as belonging to the very words here written. I had a tumour rose on one of the tonsils, or almonds, of my throat, round like a pea, and at first no bigger ; and at last, no bigger than a small button, and hard like a bone. The fear lest it should prove a cancer, troubled me more than the thing itself. I used first, dissolving medicines ; and after, lenitives for palliation : and all in vain for about a quarter of a year. At last my conscience smote me for silencing so many former deliverances that I had in answer of prayers : merely in pride, lest I should be derided as making ostentation of God's special mercies to myself, as if I were a special favourite of Heaven, I had made no public mention of them. I was that morning to preach just what is liere written, and in obedience to my conscience, I spoke these words which are now in this page, with some enlargement not here M-ritten. When I went to church I had my tumour as before (for I frequently saw it in the glass, and felt it constantly). As soon as I had done preaching, I felt it was gone, and hastening to the gla§3, I saw there was not the least vestigium, or cicatrix, or mark wherever it had been ; nor did I at all discern what became of it. I am sure I neither swallowed it, nor spit it out; and it was unlikely to dissolve by any natural cause, that had been hard like a bone a quarter of a year, notwithstanding all dissolving gargarisms. I thought fit to mention this, because it was done just as I spoke the words here written in this page. Many such marvellous mercies I have received, and known that others have received, in answer to prayer.

on him. Can any man believe that God is the just and gracious Ruler of the world, (that is, that there is a God,) and yet that he would so long suffer such things to be published as his undoubted laws, and give no testimony against it, if it were not true ? As Perkins saith, (Cases of Cons. lib. ii. c. 3. p. 130. sect. 1,) If it had not been God's word, the falsehood had been detected long ago. For there hath been nothing falsely said of God at any time which he himself hath not, at some time or other, opened and revealed ; as he did the false prophets.

CHAPTER VII.

THE FOURTH ARGUMENT.

"Sect. I. My fourth and last argument, which I will nov/ produce to prove the Scripture to be the word and perfect law of God, is this :

Either the Scriptures are the written word and law of God, or else there is no such extant in the w'orld : but there is a written word and law of God in the world; ert/o, this is it.

Here I have these two positions to prove : First, That God hath such a written word in the world. Secondly, That it can be no other but this.

That there is such a word, I prove thus: If it cannot stand with the welfare of mankind, and consequently with that honour which the wisdom and goodness of God hath by their welfare, that the world should be without a written law, then, certainly, there is such a written law. But that it cannot stand with the welfare of the creature, or that honour of God, appears thus : that there be a certain and sufficient revelation of the will of God to man, more than mere nature and creatures do teach, is necessary to the welfare of man, and the aforesaid honour of God. But there is now no such certain and sufficient revelation unwritten in the world; therefore, it is necessary that there be such a revelation written.

The proof of the major is the main task, which if it be well performed, will clearly carry the whole cause ; for 1 believe all the rest will quickly be granted, if that be once plain. Therefore, I shall stand a little more largely to prove it, viz. that there is a necessity for the welfare of man, and the honour of God's wisdom and goodness, that there be some further revelation of God's will, than is in mere nature or creatures to be found. And first I prove it necessary to the welfare of man, and that thus : If man have a happiness or misery to partake of after this life, and no sufficient revelation of it in nature or creatures, then it is necessary that he have some other revelation of it, which is sufficient. But such a happiness or misery man must partake of hereafter, which nature and creatures do not sufficiently reveal, (either end or means,)

therefore some other is necessary. I will stand the largelicr on the first branch of the antecedent, because the chief weight lieth on it; and I scarce ever knew any dou])t of Scripture, but they also doul)tod of the immortal state and recompencc of souls; and that usually is their first and chiefest doubt.

I will, therefore, here prove these three things in order thus: 1. That there is such a state for man hereafter. 2. That it is necessary that he know it, and the way to be so happy. 3. That nature and creatures do not sufficiently reveal it.

For the first, I take it for granted, that there is a God, because nature teacheth that; and I shall pass over those arguments drawn from his righteousness and just clispensation, to prove the variety of men's future conditions, because they are commonly known ; and I shall now argue from sense itself, because that works best with sensual men : and that thus. If the devil bfe very diligent to deceive men of that happiness, and to bring them to that misery, then sure there is such a happiness and misery : but the former is true, cr<jo the latter. They that doubt of the major proposition, do most of them doubt, whether there be any devil, as well as whether he seek our eternal undoing. I prove both together. First, By his temptation; Secondly, Apparitions ; Thirdly, Their possessions and dispossessions; Fourthly, His contracts with witches. I hope these are palpable discoveries.

1. The temptations of Satan are sometimes so unnatural, so violent, and so importunate, that the tempted person even feels something besides himself persuading and urging him : he cannot go about his calling, he cannot be alone, but he feels somewhat following him, with persuasions to sin, yea, to sins that he never found his nature much inclined to, and such as bring him no advantage in the world, and such as are quite against the temperature of his body. Doth it not plainly tell us, that there is a devil, labouring to deprive man of his happiness, when men are drawn to commit such monstrous sins ? Such cruelty as the Romans used to the Jews at the taking of Jerusalem; so many thousand Christians so barbarously murdered ; such bloody actions as those of Nero, Caligula, Sylla, Messala, Caracalla, the Roman gladiators, the French massacre, the gunpowder-plot, the Spanish inquisition, and their murdering fifty millions of Indians in forty-two years, according to the testimony of Acosta, their Jesuit; men invading their own neighbours and brethren, with an unquenchable thirst after their blood, and merely because of their strictness in the common professed religion; I say, how could these come to pass, but by the instigation of the devil ? When we see men making a jest of such sins as these, making them their pleasure, impudently, and implacably against knowledge and conscience, proceeding in them, hating those ways that they know to be better, and all those persons that would help to save them ; yea, choosing sin, though they believe it will damn them; despairing, and yet sinning still; doth not this tell men plainly, that there is a devil, their enemy ? When men will commit the sin which they abhor in others, which reason is against;

N

when men of otherwise a good nature, as Vespasian, &c. shall be so bloody murderers ; when men will not be stirred from sin by any entreaty, though their dearest friends should beg, with tears, upon their knees ; though preachers convince them, and beseech them in the name of the Lord; though wife and children, body and soul, be undone by it; nay, when men will be the same under the greatest judgment, and under the most wonderful convincing providences, as appears in England, yea, under miracles themselves.

Surely I think all this shows that there is a devil, and that he is diligent in working our own ruin. Why else should it be so hard a thing to persuade a man to that, which he is convinced to be good?

Sect. II. 2. But yet if this be not evidence sufficient, the frequent apparitions of Satan in several shapes, drawing men or frighting them into sin, is a discovery undeniable. I know many are very incredulous herein, and v/ill hardly believe that there have been such apparitions. For my own part, though I am as suspicious as most in such reports, and do believe that most of them are conceits or delusions, yet having been very diligently inquisitive in all such cases, I have received undoubted testimony of the truth of such apparitions; some from the mouths of men of undoubted honesty and godliness, and some from the report of multitudes of persons, who heard or saw. Were it fit here to name the persons, I could send you to them yet living, by whom you would be as fully satisfied as 1: houses that have been so frequently haunted with such terrors, that the inhabitants successively have been witnesses of it.

Learned godly Zanchius in his tom. 3. lib. iv. cap. 10, De Po-tentia Daemonum, saith, " he wonders that any should deny that there are such spirits, as from the effects are called hags, or fairies, that is, such as exercise familiarity with men, and do, without hurting men's bodies, come to them, and trouble them, and, as it were, play with them. I could (saith he) bring many examples of persons yet alive, that have experience of these in themselves. But it is not necessary to name them, nor indeed convenient. But hence it appears that there are such spirits in the air ; and that when God permits them, they exercise their power on our bodies, either to sport or to hurt." So far Zanchy. And he makes this use of it : "■ Of this, (saith he,) besides the certainty of God's word, we have also men's daily experience. These devils, therefore, do serve to confirm our faith of God, of the good angels, of the kingdom of heaven, of the blessed souls, and of many things more which the Scripture delivereth. Many deny that the soul of man remaineth and liveth after death, because they see nothing go from him but his breath; and they come to that impiety, that they laugh at all that is said of another life. But we see not the devils ; and yet it is clearer than the sun, that this air is full of devils ; because, besides God's word, experience itself doth teach it." Thus Zanchy pleads undeniable experience, lib. iv. c. 20, p. 212.

Luther affirmed of himself, that at Coburge, he ofttimes had an apparition of burning torches; the sight thereof did so affright him, that he was near swooning; also, in his own garden, the devil

appeared to him in the likeness of a black boar, but then he made light of it. Sozomen, in his Ecclesiastical History, writes of Apelles, a smith, famous in E(,'ypt for working miracles, who, in the night, while he was at work, was templed to uncleanncss by the devil, appearing in the shape of a beautiful woman. The like he tells of a strange apparition in Antioch, the night before the sedition against Theodosius. Theodorus mentions a fearful sight that appeared to Gennadius, patriarch of Constantinople, and the threatening words which it uttered. The writings of Gregory, Ambrose, Austin, Chrysostom, Nicephorus, &c. make frequent mention of apparitions, and relate the several stories at large. You may read in Lavater de Spectris, several other relations of apparitions, out of Alexander ab Alexandro, Baptista Fulgosius, and others. Ludovicus Vives, (lib. i.) De Veritate Fidei, saith, " that among the savages in America, nothing is more common than to hear and see spirits in such shapes both day and night." The like do other writers testify of those Indians : so saith Olaus Magnus of the islanders. Cardanus de Subtilit. hath many such stories. So Job. Manlius in Loc. Commun. Collectan. (cap. 4.) de Malis Spi-ritibus, et de Satisfactione. Yea, godly, sober JNIelancthon affirms, that he had seen some such sights or apparitions himself; and many credible persons of his acquaintance have told him, that they have not only seen them, but had nmch talk with spirits : among the rest he mentions one of his own aunts, who sitting sad at the fire after the death of her husband, there appeared unto her one in the likeness of her husband, and another like a Franciscan friar ; the former told her that he was her husband, and came to tell her somewhat; v/hich was, that she must hire some priests to say certain masses for him, which he earnestly besought her; then he took her by the hand, promising to do her no harm, yet his hand so burned her, that it remained black ever after, and so they vanished away. Thus writes Melancthon. Lavater also himself, who hath written a book wholly of apparitions, a learned, godly, protestant divine, tells us, that it was then an undeniable thing, confirmed by the testimonies of many honest and credible persons, both men and women, some alive, and some dead, that sometimes by night, and sometimes by day, have both seen and heard such things; some that going to bed had the clothes plucked off them; others had somewhat lying down in the bed with them ; others heard it walking in the chamber by them, spitting, groaning; saying, they were the souls of such or such persons lately departed; that they were in grievous torments, and if so many masses were but said for them, or so many pilgrimages undertaken to the shrine of some saint, they should be delivered. These things, with many such more, saith Lavater, were then frequently and undoubtedly done, and that where the doors were fast locked, and the room searched, that there could be no deceit.

So Sleidan relates the story of Crescentius, the pope's legate, frighted into a deadly sickness by a fearful apparition in his chamber. Most credible and godly writers tell us, that on June 20,

1484, at a town called Hamel, in Germany, the devil took away one hundred and thirty children, that were never seen again.

But I need to say- no more of this; there is enough written already, not only ])y Cycogna, Delrio, Paracelsus, &c. but also by godly and faithful writers, as Lavater, Georg. Agricola, Olaus Magnus, Zanchius, Pictorius, and many more.

Ohjcct. But you will say. Though this prove that there are devils, and that they are enemies to our happiness ; yet how doth it prove that there is a future happiness or misery for man ?

A?isiv. Why, plainly thus. What need Satan by these apparitions to set up sviperstition to draw men to sin, if there were no difference between sinners and others hereafter ? surely in this life it would be no great displeasure to them; for usually the wicked have the most prosperous lives; therefore his delusions must needs have respect to another life ; and that the end of his apparitions is either to drive men to despair, or to superstition, or some sin, is evident to all. Most of the papists' idolatry and will-worship hath either been caused or confirmed by such apparitions ; for in former days of darkness they were more common than now. How the order of the Carthusian friars was founded by Bruno, upon the terrible speeches and cries of a dead man, you may read in the life of Bruno, before his " Exposition on Paul's Epistles." Such was the original of All Souls Day, and other holydays, as Trithemius, Pe-trus de Natalibus, (lib. x. cap. 1,) Polyd. Virg. de Inv. (lib. ix. cap. 9,) do declare. Also, praying for the dead, praying to saints, purgatory, merits of good works, sanctification, pilgrimages, masses, images, relics, monastical vows, auricular confession, and most of the popish ceremonies, have had their life and strength from these apparitions and delusions of the devil. But especially the cross hath been so magnified thereby, that it is grown the conmionest remedy to drive away devils of any in the world for many hundred years : the churchyard must have one to keep the devils from the graves of the dead; and the church, and almost every pinnacle, window, and part of it, to keep him thence : the highways, also, must have them, that he molest not the traveller : yea, when morning and evening, and in times of danger, and in the beginning of any work of duty, men must sign themselves with the cross, to keep away devils : insomuch that the learned doctors do handle it among their profound questions, what makes the devil so afraid of the cross, that he shuns it above all things else ? So that you may easily see what a great advantage the devil hath got over the souls of a great part of the world by these apparitions ; and consequently, that, this being the very end of his endeavours, there is certainly a happiness which he would deprive us of, and a misery that he would bring us to, when this life is ended.

Sect. III. 3. It is manifest also by the devil's possessing and tormenting the bodies of men; for if it were not more for the sake of the soul than the body, why should he not as much possess or torment a beast ? Certainly, it is not chiefly the outward torment of the person that he regardeth, though he desires that too; for

J

then he would not labour to settle his kingdom generally in peace and prosperity, and to make men choose iniquity for its worldly advantages : yet it may, perhaps, be the souls of others, more than the possessed persons themselves, that the devil may hope to get advantage on. So among the papists it hath brought tlieir exorcisms into singular credit, by the frecjuont dispossessing the devils. I confess there hath been many counteVfeits of this kind, as the boy at Bilson, by \>'olverhampton, hired by some of the papists, and discovered by the vigilant care of Bishop Morton and divers others; but yet, if any doubt whether there is any such thing at all, credible history and late experience may sufficiently satisfy him. The history of the dispossession of the devil out of many persons together in a room in Lancashire, at the prayer of some godly ministers, is very famous : read the book, and judge. Among the papists possessions are common; though very many of them are the priests' and Jesuits' delusions.

What possession is, and how the devils are confined to a body,* or whether circumscribed there in whole or in part, are things beyond my reach to know; but that the strange effects which we have seen on some bodies, have been the products of the special power of the devil there, I doubt not. Though, for my own part, I believe that God's works in the world are usually by instruments, and not immediate ; and as good angels are his instruments in conveying his mercies both to soul and body, and churches and states; so evil angels are instruments of inflicting his judgments, both corporal and spiritual. Hence God is said (Psal. Ixxviii. 49) to send evil angels among the Israelites. Hence Paul's phrase of delivering to Satan: hence Satan did execution on the children, cattle, and body of Job; and upon Jerusalem in that plague, and numbering the people. To satisfy you fully in this, and to silence your objections, and to teach you the true and spiritual use of this doctrine, I refer you to Mr. Lawrence's book, called " Our Communion and War with Angels;" and, especially, Zanchius's (tome 3) book De Angelis ; and, now newly published, Mr. Ambrose's book, in which, in an epistle, I have confirmed and vindicated what I have here said.

So then, though I judge that Satan is the instrument in our ordinary diseases, yet doth he,, more undeniably, appear in those whom we call the possessed. Luther thought that all phrenetic persons and idiots, and all bereaved of their understanding, had devils ; notwithstanding physicians might ease them by remedies. And, indeed, the presence of the devil may consist with the presence of a disease and evil humour, with the efficacy of means : Saul's melancholy devil would be gone when David played on the harp. Many divines, as Tertullian, Austin, Zanchius, Lavater, &c. think that he can work both upon the body and mind, and that he maketh use to this end of melancholy humours; and, indeed, such strange things are oft said and done by the melancholy and

* The devil had the power of death, saith tlic Holy Ghost, Heb. ii. 14.

mad, that many learned physicians think that the devil is frequently mixed with such distempers, and hath a main hand in many other symptoms : so Avicen, Rhasis, Arculanus, Aponensis, Jason, Patensis, Hercul. Saxon, &c. Who can give any natural cause of men's speaking Hebrew or Greek, which they never learned or spake before ; of their versifying; their telling persons that are present their secrets ; discovering what is done at a distance, which they neither see nor hear ? Fernelius mentioneth two that he saw; whereof one was so tormented with convulsive pain, sometimes in one arm, sometimes in the other, sometimes in one finger, &c. that four men could scarcely hold him, his head being still quiet and well. The physicians judged it a convulsion, from some malignant humour in \\\q spina dorsi; till, having used all means in vain, at last the devil derided them, that they had almost destroyed the man with their medicines. The man spoke Greek and Latin, which he never learned; he told the physicians a great many of their secrets ; and a great deal of talk with the devil, which they had, he there mentions. In conclusion, both this and the other were dispossessed by popish prayers, fasting, and exorcism. Forestus mentions a countryman that, being cast into melancholy, through discontent at some injuries that he had received, the devil appeared to him in the likeness of a man, and persuaded him rather to make away himself than to bear such indignities ; and, to that end, advised him to send for arsenic and poison himself. But the apothecary would not let him have it except he would bring one to promise that he should not abuse it, whereupon the devil went with him, as his voucher, and so he took a dram; but, though it tormented him, yet it did not presently kill him; whereupon the devil brought him, afterward, a rope, and after that a knife, to have destroyed himself: at which sight, the man, being affrighted, was recovered to his right mind again. You may read a multitude of such examples in Scribonius, Schen-kius, Wierus, Chr. a Vega, Langius, Donatus, lib. ii, c. 1, De. Med. Mir. Cornel. Gemma, lib. ii., De Natur. Mirac. c. 4. See also Valesius, c. 28 ; Sacr. Philos. Roderic. a Castro, 2 ; De Morb. Mul. c. 3; Schol. Ccelius Rhodiginus, lib. 1. antiq. lect. c. 34. Tertullian challengeth the heathen to bring any one possessed with the devil before their judgment-seat, or one that pretended to have the spirit of the gods ; and if, at the command of a Christian, he do not confess himself to be a devil, let them take the Christian to be presumptuous, and put him immediately to death. But of Jesus, saith he, they say not so, nor that he was a mere man; but the Power, the Wisdom, and Word of God ; and that they are devils, damnecl for their wickedness. The like doth Cyprian, ad Demetrian. sect. 2.

So that it seems it was then common for the devil in the possessed to confess Christ, or else Tertullian durst not have made such a challenge.

Some wonder that there were so many possessed with devils in Christ's time, and so few since; but they understood not that it

was madmen whom they call possessed: and Christ conlirnuHl their judgment; as Mr. Alead, on .John x. 20, hath proved out of Scripture, and from Plautus, Justin INIart., Timotheus Alex., Bal-zamon, Zonaras, to whom I refer the reader for the fuller proof hereof.

Sect. IV. The fourth and last of these palpahle arguments, to prove that man hath a future happiness or misery, is drawn from the devil's compacts with witches. It cannot be only his desire of hurting their bodies, that makes him enter into these contracts with them; for that he might procure by other means as likely. Besides, it is some kind of prosperity, or fulfilling their desires, which he conditioneth to give them. It is a childish thing to conceit, that the devil cares so much for a few drops of their blood. Is not the blood of a beast or other creature as sweet? Neither can it be only the acknowledgment of his power that he aims at, nor a mere desire of being honoured or worshipped in the world, as Porphyrins and other pagans have thought; for he is most truly served where he is least discerned; and most abhorred when he most appears. His apparitions are so powerful a means to convince the atheist, w'ho believes not that there is either God, or devil, or heaven, or hell, that I am persuaded he would far rather keep out of sight, and that for the most part he is constrained of God to appear against his will. Besides, if Satan sought his ow-n honour, he would still speak in his own name : but, contrarily, his usual appearance is in the shape or name of some deceased person, affirming himself to be the soul of such a one; or else he pretends to be an angel of light: and when he makes his compacts with witches, it is seldom so plainly and directly as that they understand it is indeed the ckvil that they deal with. So that it is apparent, Satan seeks something more than the honour of domineering, that is, the ruin of the party with whom he deals. And that it is not their bodily and temporal ruin only, appears further by this, that he will heal as well as hurt, and give power to his confederates to do the like; and this tends not to the ruin of men's bodies. Though there be a great deal of deceit among them, yet doubtless many have been cured by popish spells, and pilgrimages, and exorcisms. Carolus Piso mentions one of his patients who was incurably deaf a year together, and was suddenly cured in the midst of his devotion to the lady of. Loretto. Fernelius mentions those that could stop any bleeding by repeating certain words. He saw a universal jaundice cured in one night, by the hanging of a piece of paper about the neck. A great deal more to the same purpose he hath, De abditis rer. causis, lib. ii. c. 16. If any should doubt whether there be any such Avitches, who thus work by the power of the devil, or have any compact with him, he hath as good opportunity now to be easily resolved, as hath been know^n in most ages. Let him go but into Suflblk, or Essex, or Lancashire, &c. and he may quickly be informed. Sure it were strange, if in an age of so much knowledge and conscience, there should so many scores of poor creatures be put to death as witches, if it were not clearly manifest

that they were such. We have too many examples lately among us, to leave any douht of the truth of this.

So that hy these attempts of Satan to deceive and destroy souls, it is evident, that there is an estate of happiness or misery for every man after this life.

All those arguments, which every common-place hook and philosopher almost can afford you, to prove the immortality of the soul, will also serve to prove the point in hand. But many can apprehend these arguments from sense, who cannot yet reach, and will not be convinced by, other demonstrations: as temptations, apparitions, possessions, dispossessions, and witches, are most excellent means to convince a Sadclucee, that there are angels and spirits ; so, also, hy clear consequence, that there is a resurrection and eternal life.

Sect. V. The second thing that I am to clear to you, is, that it is necessary for man to know this happiness, and the way to obtain it; and to know the misery, and the way to escape it. This appears thus :

First: If he must go that way, and use those means, then he must needs first know both the end and the way : but he that will obtain the end, must use the means ; therefore, he must necessarily know them. All this is so evident, that, I believe, few will deny it. That man must use means before he attain the end, is evident,

First: From the nature of the motion of the rational soul, which is to seek the attainment of its propounded end, by a voluntary use of means conducing thereto : for as it hath not, at its first infusion, that height of perfection, whereof it is capable, so neither is it carried thereto by violence, or by blind instinct, for then it were not a rational motion.

Secondly : Yea, the very enjoyment of the end, and the seeking of it, are actions of the same nature : it is enjoyed by the knowing, loving, rejoicing, &c. and these actions are the means to attain it.

Thirdly: And if the means were not necessary to the end, the wicked were as capable of it as the godly; but that will not stand with the justice of God.

Fourthly : If knowledge of the end, and use of means, were not of necessity to the obtaining of that end, then a beast, or a block, were as fit a subject for that blessedness as a man: but these cannot be.

And that man cannot seek a happiness, which he never knew; and shun a misery, which he was not aware of; nor use means thereto, which he never was acquainted with; I think would be lost and needless labour for me to prove.

Sect. VI. The third thing that I am to prove, is this : That mere nature and creatures contain no sufficient revelation of the forementioned end and means. This appears thus : First, Nature, by the help of creatures, though it tell us that there is a God, yet how he will be worshipped, or how he came to be displeased with the world, or how he nmst be reconciled; of all this it tells us but little. Again, though it may possibly acquaint us with the immortal state, yet what the happiness there is, and what the misery.

or how we are naturally deprived of that happiness, and how it must be recovered, and who they be that shall enjoy it; of all this it tells us little : much less of the resurrection of our bodies from the grave. So, also, though nature may possibly find itself depraved, yet how it came to be so, or how to be healed, or how to be pardoned, it cannot tell. Secondly : If nature, by the mere book of the creatures, could learn all things necessary, yet, first, it would be slow, and by so long study ; secondly, and so doubtfully and uncertainly; thirdly, and so rarely; that it appears by this, the means of revelation is not sufficient. All this apparent by event and success. For what nature and creatures do sufficiently teach, that some of their scholars have certainly learned.

First, then, observe, how long did the most learned philosophers study before they could know those few rude, imperfect notions, ■which some of them did attain to, concerning eternity ! They were grey with age and study, before they could come to know that which a child of seven years old may now know by the benefit of Scripture. But all men lived not to such an age, therefore this is no sufficient means.

Secondly, observe, also, how uncertain they were, when all was done : what they speak rightly concerning God, or the life to come, in one breath, they are ready to unsay it again in another, as if their speeches had fallen from them against their wills, or as Caiaphas's confession of Christ. They raise their conclusions from such uncertain premises, that the conclusions also must needs be uncertain.

Thirdly, observe, also, how rare that knowledge was among them. It may be in all the world, there may be a few hundreds of learned philosophers, and among those there is one part Epicures, another Peripatetics, &c. that acknowledge not a future happiness or misery. And of those few that do acknowledge it, none knows it truly, nor the way that leads to it. How few of them could tell what was man's chief good! And those few, how imperfectly; with what mixtures of falsehood ! We have no certainty of any of them that did know so much, as that there was but one God. For though Socrates died for deriding the multitudes of gods, yet there is no certain record of his right belief of the unity of the Godhead, liesides, what Plato and Plotinus did write of this that was sound, there is far greater probability that they had it from Scripture, than merely from nature and creatures. For that Plato had read the writings of Moses, is proved already by divers authors. The like may be said of Seneca, and many others. So that if this means had contained any sufficiency in it for salvation, yet it would have extended but to some few of all the learned philosophers: and what is this to a universal sufficiency to all mankind i Nay, there is not one of all their exactest moralists, that have not mistaken vice for virtue ; yea, most of them give the name of virtue to the foulest villanies, such as self-murder in several cases, revenge, a proud and vain-glorious affectation of honour and applause, with other the like : so far have these few learned philosophers been

from the true knowledge of things spiritual and divine, that they could never reach to know the principles of common honesty. Varro saith, that there were in his days two hundred and eighty-eight sects or opinions among philosophers concerning the chief good: what, then, should the multitudes of the vulgar do, who have neither strength of wit to know, nor time, and hooks, and means to study, that they might attain to the height of these learned men ? So that I conclude with Aquinas, that if, possihly, nature and creatures might teach some few enough to salvation, yet were the Scriptures of flat necessity; both for the more enlarged, secondly, and the more easy and speedy, thirdly, and the more certain, spreading of knowledge and salvation.

Sect. VII. But here are some objections to be answered. First, Were not the fathers, till Moses, without Scripture ? Answ. First, Yet they had a revelation of God's will, besides what nature or creatures taught them. Adam had the doctrine of the tree of knowledge and the tree of life, and the tenor of the covenant made with him, by such revelation, and not by nature. So had the fathers the doctrine of sacrificing; for nature could teach them nothing of that, therefore even the heathens had it from the church. Secondly, All other revelations are now ceased, therefore this way is more necessary. Thirdly, And there are many truths necessary now to be known, which then were not revealed, and so not necessary.

Object. 2. Doth not the apostle say, that which may be known of God, was manifest in them, &;c.

A?isw. This, with many other objections, are fully scanned by many divines, to whom I refer you ; particularly Dr. Willet, on Rom. i. 14, 20, &c. Only in general I answer, there is much difference between knowing that there is a God of eternal power, which may make the sinner unexcusable for his open sin against nature, (which the apostle there speaks of,) and knowledge which is sufficient to salvation. How God deals with the multitude that have not the Scripture, as to their eternal state, I leave as a thing beyond us, and so nothing to us : but if a possibility of the salvation of some of them be acknowledged, yet in the three respects above mentioned, there remains still a necessity of some further revelation than nature or creatures do contain. And thus I have manifested a necessity for the welfare of man. Now it would follow that I show it necessary for the honour of God; but this follows so evidently as a consectary of the former, that I think I may spare that labour. -

Object. But what if there be such a necessity, doth it follow that God must needs supply it ? Ansiv. Yes, to some part of the world. For, First, It cannot be conceived how it can stand with his exceeding goodness, bounty, and mercy, to make a world, and not to save some. Secondly, Nor with his wisdom, to make so many capable of salvation, and not reveal it to them, or bestow it on them. Thirdly, Or to prepare so many other helps to man's happiness, and to lose them all for want of such a sufficient revelation.

Fourthly, Or to be the Governor of the world, and yet to give them no perfect law to acquaint men with their duty, and the reward of obedience, and penalty of disobedience.

1 laving thus proved that there is certainly some written word of God in the world, the last thing that I have to prove is, that there is no other writing in the world but this that can be it. And, First, There* is no other book in the world, that ever I heard of, that doth so much as claim this prerogative and dignity. Mahomet calleth himself but a prophet, he acknowledgeth the truth of most of the Scripture, and his Alcoran contradicteth the very light of nature. Aristotle, Plato, and other philosophers, acknowledge their writings to be merely of their own study and invention. What book saith, Thus saith the Lord, and, This is the word of the Lord, but this .'' So that if it hath no competitor, there needs not so much to be said.

2. What other book doth reveal the mysteries of God, of the Trinity, of God and man in one person, of creation, of the fall, the covenants, their conditions, heaven, hell, angels, devils, temptations, regeneration, worship, &c. besides this one book, and those that profess to receive it from this, and profess their end to be but the confirming and explaining the doctrine of this ? Indeed, upon those subjects which are below the Scripture, as logic, arithmetic, &c. other books may be more excellent than it; as a tailor may teach you to make a cloak better than all the statute books or records of parliament. But this is a lower excellency than the Scripture was intended to.

And thus I have done with this weighty subject, that the Scripture, which contains the promises of our rest, is the certain, infallible word of God. The reason why I have thus digressed, and said so much of it, is, because I was very apprehensive of the great necessity of it, and the common neglect of being grounded in it; and withal, that this is the very heart of my whole discourse ; and that if this be doubted of, all the rest that I have said will be in vain. If men doubt of the truth, they will not regard the goodness. And the reason why I have said no more, but passed over the most common arguments, is, because they are handled in many books already; which I advise Christians to be better versed in. To the mere English reader I commend especially these : Sir Philip Morney, Lord du Plessis's Verity of Christian Religion; Grotius, Of the Truth of Christian Religion, which is lately translated into English; and Mr. Perkin's Cases of Conscience, lib. ii. c. 3 ; Parson's Book of Resolution, corrected by Bunny, the second part; Dr. Jackson on the Creed; and (come forth since I began this) Mr. White's, of Dorchester, Directions for Reading Scripture ; Mr. John Goodwin's Divine Authority of Scripture asserted. Also, read a book called, A Body of Divinity, (first part,) written

* The apocryphal books are but records more imperfect and uncertain, of the same doctrine for the substance Avith the rest, though mixed with some suspected history, and dolh confirm, but not contradict, the Scriptures ; and but few of those books do pretend to a Divine authority, as the rest.

by our honest and faithful countryman. Colonel Edward Leigh. Also, Ursinus's Catechism on this question ; and Ball's Catechism, with the exposition, which, to those that cannot get larger treatises, is very useful.

For the question, How it may be known which books are canonical ? I here meddle not with it: I think human testimony, with the forementioned qualifications, must do most in determining that. Yet we must carefully distinguish between those canonical books which have been questioned, and those which were unquestioned, but delivered by more infallible tradition; and also between those which contain most of the substance of our faith, and those which do not.

Prop. 1. No book in the canon was ever generally doubted of; but when one church doubted of it, others received it, from whom we have as much reason to receive them, as from the Roman church.

Prop. 2. Those books which have been generally received, are known to be canonical, by the same way, and testimony, and means, as the Scripture in general is known to be God's word.

ProjJ. 3. It is not a thing which one cannot be saved without, to believe every particular book to be canonical; if we believe all that were generally received, yea, or but one book which contain-eth the substance of Christian doctrine, though we doubt of those that some formerly doubted of, it would not exclude from salvation. The books are received for the doctrine's sake. It is vain cavilling, therefore, for the papists, when they put us to prove the canon, they stick only on the questioned books ; especially when those were but few and short. Matthew, and Mark, and Luke, and John, and Paul's writings, which are full, and contain the main body of Christian doctrine, do, withal, contain the characters of their own canonical verity, which, seconded with the conveyance of universal, rational, infallible tradition, (not Romish authoritative tradition, or the judgment of the pope, or the present church,) may certainly be discerned ; even with a saving certainty, by those that are specially illuminated by God's Spirit; and with an ordinary rational certainty, by those that have God's common help.

I conclude this as I began, with an earnest request to ministers that they would preach, and to people that they would study, this subject more thoroughly ; tRat while they firmly believe the truth of that word which promiseth them rest, and prescribes them the means thereto, they may believe, and hope, and love, and long, and obey, and labour, with the more seriousness, and liveliness, and patient constancy.

CHAPTER VIII.

REST FOR NONE BUT THE TEOPLE OF CiOD, PROVED.

Sect. I. It may hero be expected, that as I have proved, tliat the rest rcniaiiicth for the people of («od; so I should now prove, that it remaineth only for tliein, and that the rest of the world shall have no part in it. 15ut the Scripture is so full and plain iu this, that I suppose it needless to those who believe Scripture. Christ hath resolved, that those who make light of him, and the offers of his grace, shall never taste of his supper : " and that without holiness none shall see God : and that, except a man be regenerate, and born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That he that believes not, shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him : that no unclean person, nor covetous, nor railer, nor drunkard, &c. shall enter into the kingdom of Christ and of God," Eph. v. 4, 5. " That the wicked shall be turned into hell, and all they that forget God : that all they shall be damned that obey not the truth, but have pleasure in unrighteous-eousness," 2 Thess. ii. 12. " That Christ will come in flaming fire, to take vengeance on them that know not God, and obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power," Matt. xxii. 5—7 ; Luke xiv. 25 ; Heb. xii. 14; John i. 33, and iii. 18,36; 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10; Gal. v. 21; Psal. ix. 17 ; 2 Thess. i. 8—10. And Christ himself hath opened the very manner of their process in judgment, and the sentence of their condemnation to eternal fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. Matt. xxv. So that here is no rest for any but the people of God, except you will call the intolerable everlasting flames of hell a rest.

And it were easy to manifest this also by reason. For, First, God's justice requires an inequality of men's state hereafter, as there was of their lives here. And, Secondly, They that walk not in the way of rest, and use not the means, are never like to obtain the end. They would not follow Christ in the regeneration, nor accept of rest upon his conditions ; they thought him to be too hard a master, and his way too naiTow, and his laws too strict: they chose the pleasures of sin for a season, rather than to sutler afl[liction with the people of God : they would not suff"er with Christ, that so they might reign with him. What they made choice of, that they did enjoy ; they had their good things in this life ; and what they did refuse, it is but reason they should want: how oft would Christ have gathered them to him, and they would not! and he useth to make men willing before he saves them, and not to save them against their wills.

Therefore will the mouth of the wicked be stopped for ever, and all the world shall acknowledge the justice of God. Had the un-

godly but returned before their life was expired, and been heartily willing to accept of Christ for their Saviour and their King, and to be saved by him in his way, and upon his most reasonable terms, they might have been saved.

Object. But may not God be better than his word, and save those that he doth not promise to save ?

Ansiv. But not false of his word, in saving those whom he hath said he will not save. Men's souls are in a doleful case when they have no hope of happiness, except the word of God prove false. To venture a man's eternal salvation, upon hope that God will be better than his word, that is, in plain English, that the God of truth will prove a liar, is somewhat beyond stark madness, which hath no name bad enough to express it.

Yet do I believe, that the description of God's people in England, and in America, must not be the same ; because, as God's revelations are not the same, so neither is the actual faith which is required in both the same ; and as the written and positive laws in the church were never given them, so obedience to those mere positives is not required of them. Whether, then, the threats against unbelievers be meant of unbelief privative and positive only, and not negative (such as is all non-believing that which was never revealed); or, whether their believing that God is, and that he is a rewarder of them that seek him, will serve the turn there ; or, whether God hath no people ? I acknowledge again is yet past my understanding.

So that in what is said, you may discern not only the truth, but also the reason and equity, that none but God's people shall enter into his rest. Though God's will is the first cause of all things, yet all the fault lies in sinners themselves. Their consciences shall one day tell them that they might have been saved, if they would ; and that it was their own wilful refusal, which shut them out. God freely offered them life, and they would not accept it on his easy and reasonable conditions. They perish, because they would not be saved in God's way. The pleasures of the flesh seemed more desirable to them than the glory of the saints : Satan offered them the one, and God offered them the other, and they had free liberty to choose which they would; and they chose the pleasures of sin for a season, before the everlasting rest with Christ. And is it not a righteous thing, that they should be denied that which they denied to accept .'' Nay, when God pressed them so earnestly, and persuaded them so importunately, and even beseeched them by his messengers, and charged us to compel men by importunity, and taking no denial, to come in; and, yet, they would not; where should they be, but among the dogs without ? Though man be so wicked, that he will not yield, till the mighty power of grace do prevail with him, yet, still we may truly say, that he may be saved, if he will, on God's terms. And his disability being moral, lying in wilful wickedness, is no more excuse to him, than it is to a common adulterer, that he cannot love his own wife; or to a malicious person, that he cannot choose but hate his brother: is he not so

much the worse, and deservoth so much tTio sorer punishment ? As, therefore, I would Iiave all sinners believe this, so I would advise all ministers more to preach it. Pry not too much into the depths of (jod's decrees. Alas ! how little know we of far lower things ! lay all the l)lanie on the wills of sinners; bend your speeches to persuade their wills. Is not that the business of our calling ? Let me give you but one argument, which deserves to be considered. Sinners shall lay all the blame on their own wills in hell for ever. Hell is a rational torment by conscience, according to the nature of the rational subject. If sinners could but say, then, it was long of (Jod, whose will did necessitate me, and not of me, it would (juiet their consciences, and ease their torment, and make hell to be no hell to themselves. But to remend)er their wilfulness, will feed the fire, and cause the worm of conscience never to die.

CHAPTER IX.

RKASONS WHY THIS REST REMAINS, AND IS NOT HERE ENJOYED.

Sect. I. The next thing promised in the beginning, in my method, which in the first edition I forgot to perform, is to show you, why this rest must yet remain, and not be enjoyed till we come to another world. And I will speak but a little to this, because it may be gathered from what is said before ; and because much is said to it in the first and second chapters of the fourth part.

And, First, The main reason is the will of God, that it should be so. Who should dispose of the creatures, but he that made them ; and order the times and changes of them, but their absolute Lord, who only also hath wisdom to order them for the best, and power to see his will accomplished ? You may therefore as well ask, Why have we not the spring and harvest without winter ? and why is the earth below, and the heavens above ? and why is not all the world a sun, that it may be more glorious ? &c.; as to ask, why we have not rest on earth ?

2. Yet may jou easily see satisfactory reason in the thing itself also. As first, God should subvert the established order in nature, if he should give us our rest on earth. All things must come to their perfection by degrees : nothing is perfect in its beginning, where the fall brought an imperfection. The strongest man must first be a child, and formed in the womb from small, obscure principles. The greatest scholar must be first a school-boy, and begin in his alphabet. In the best-ordered governments men must come to their dignity and authority by degrees, beginning at the lower, and rise as they deserve. The skilfullest artificer was first an ignorant learner. The tallest oak was once an acorn. This is the constant course of nature in the production of sublunary things ; and I know none that deny it, but only some enthusiasts concerning

the production of grace, wlio think they are taught of God fully in an instant; and think themselves perfect, as soon as they have learned the opinion of the perfectionists; when all knowing men about them discern their imperfections ; yea, such horrid paganism and profaneness in some of them, as if they had almost renounced humanity and reason. Now, this life is our infancy; and would we be perfect in the womb, or born at full stature ? must God overturn the course of nature for us ?

3. And it were an absurdity in morality, as well as a monster in nature, if our rest and full content were here. For, First, It would be injurious both to God and to ourselves.

First, To God; and that both in this life, and in the life to come. 1. In this life it would be injurious to God, both in regard of what he is here to do for us, and in regard of what he is to receive, as it were, from us. 1. If our rest were here, then most of God's providences must be useless, his great designs must be frustrate, and his gracious workings and mercies needless to us. Should God lose the glory of all his church's deliverances, of the fall of his enemies, of his wonders and miracles wrought to this end, and that all men may have their happiness here .'' If the Israelites must have been kept from the brick-kilns, and from the danger of the Egyptians' pursuit, and of the Red Sea, then God must have lost the exercise of his great power, and justice, and mercy, and the mighty name that he got upon Pharaoh. If they had not felt their wilderness necessities, God should not have exercised his wilderness providences and mercies. If man had kept his first rest in Paradise, God had not had opportunity to manifest that far greater love to the world in the giving of his Son. If man had not fallen into the depth of misery, Christ had not come down from the height of glory, nor died, nor risen, nor been believed on in the world. If we were all well, what need we the physician. And if all were happy, and innocent, and perfect, what use were there for the glorious works of our sanctification, justification, preservation, and glorification ? what use for his ministers, and word, sacraments, and afflictions, and deliverances ?

2. And, as God should not have opportunity for the exercise of all his grace, but some only ; so he would not have returns from us for all. We should never fear offending him, and depend on him so closely, and call upon him so earnestly, if we wanted nothing. Do we not now feel how ready our prayers are to freeze, and how sleepily we serve him, and how easily we let slip or run over a duty, if we be but in health, and credit, and prosperity, though still we are far from all content and rest ? How little then should he hear from us if we had what we would have ! God delighteth in the soul that is humble and contrite, and trembleth at his word ; but there would be little of this in us, if we had here our full desires. What glorious songs of praise had God from Moses, at the Red Sea and in the wilderness; from Deborah, and Hannah, and David, and Hezekiah ; from all his churches, and from each particular gracious soul in every age ! which he should never have had, if they had

been the choosers of their own condition, ami had nothing but rest. Have not thine own highest joys and praises to God, reader, been occasioned by thy dangers, or sorrows, or miseries { We think we couUl praise God best, if we wanted nothing; but experience tells us the contrary : we may have a carnal joy in congratulating our flesh's felicity, which may deceive a hypocrite ; but not so sensible acknowledgments of God : indeed in heaven, when we are fit for such a state, it will be far otherwise. The greatest glory and praise that God hath through the world, is for redemption, reconciliation, and salvation by Christ; and was not man's misery the occasion of that { Besides, as variety is part of the beauty of the creation, so it is of Providence also. If all the trees, or herbs, or fowls, or beasts, or fishes, were of one kind, and all the world were but like the sea, all water, or like one plain field, yea, or one sun, it were a diminution of its beauty. And if God should exercise here but one kind of providence, and bestow but one kind of grace, (delight,) and receive thanks but for one, it would be a diminution of the beauty of Providence.

2. And it would be no small injury to ourselves, as well as to God," if we had our full contents and rest on earth ; and that both now and for ever. I. At the present it would be much our loss. Where God loseth the opportunity of exercising his mercies, man must needs lose the happiness of enjoying them. And where God loseth his praises, man doth certainly lose his comforts. Oh the sweet comforts that the saints have had in returns to their prayers; when they have lain long in sorrow, and importunate requests, and God hath lift them up, and spoken peace to their souls, and granted their desires, and said, as Christ, " Be of good cheer, son, thy sins are forgiven thee ;" arise from thy bed of sickness, and walk, and live ! How should we know what a tender-hearted Father we have, and how gladly he would meet us, and take us in his arms, if we had not, as the prodigal, been denied the husks of earthly pleasure and profit, which the worldly swine do feed upon ? We should never have felt Christ's tender hand, binding up our wounds, and wiping the blood from them, and the tears from our eyes, if we had not fallen into the hands of thieves, and if we had not had tears to be wiped away. We should never have had those sweetest texts in our Bibles, " Come to me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden," &c.; and, " To every one that is athirst, come and buy freely," &c. ; and, " Blessed are the poor in spirit;" and, " Thus saith the High and Lofty One, I dwell with him that is of a humble and contrite spirit," &c. ; if we had not been weary, and heavy laden, and thirsty, and poor, and humble, and contrite. In a word, we should all lose our redemption mercies, our sanctifica-tion, justification, and adoption mercies; our sermon, sacrament, and prayer mercies; our recoveries, deliverances, and thanksgiving mercies ; if we had not our miseries and sorrows to occasion them.

3. And it would be our loss for the future, as well as for the present. It is a delight to a soldier, or a traveller, to look back upon his adventures and escapes when they are over; and for a saint in

o

heaven, to look back upon the state he was in on earth, and remember his sins, his sorrows, his fears, his tears, his enemies and dangers, his wants and calamities, must needs make his joys to be, rationally, more joyful. And, therefore, the blessed in their praising of the Lamb do mention his redeeming them out of every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and so out of their misery and wants, and sins which redemption doth relate to, and making them kings and priests to God. When they are at the end, they look back upon the way. When the fight is done, and the danger over, and their sorrow gone, yet their rejoicing in the remembrance of it is not done, nor the praises of their Redeemer yet over. But if we should have had nothing but content and rest on earth, what room would there have been for these rejoicings and praises hereafter ? So that you see, 1. It would be our loss. 2. And then our incapacity forbids it, as well as our commodity. We are not capable of rest on earth ; for we have both a natural incapacity, and a moral.

I. A natural incapacity, both in regard of the subject, and the object; that is, both in regard of our personal unfitness, and the defect or absence of what might be our happiness.

1. Ourselves are now uncapable subjects of happiness and rest: and that both in respect of soul and body. 1. Can a soul that is so weak in all grace, so prone to sin, so hampered with contradicting principles and desires, and so nearly joined to such a neighbour as this flesh, have full content and rest in such a case ? What is rest, but the perfection of our graces in habit and in act; to love God perfectly, and know him, and rejoice in him ? How then can the spirit be at rest, that finds so little of this knowledge, and love, and joy ? What is the rest but our freedom from sin, and imperfections, and enemies '{ And can the soul have rest that is pestered with all these, and that continually ? What makes the souls of sensible Christians so groan and complain, desiring to be delivered, and to cry out so oft in the language of Paul, " O wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me ?" If they can be contented, and rest in such a state, what makes every Christian to press hard toward the mark, and run that they may obtain, and strive to enter in, if they are capable of rest in their present condition ? Doubtless, therefore, doth God perfectly purge every soul at its removal from the body, before he receives it to his glory, not only because iniquity cannot dwell with him in the most holy, but, also, because themselves are uncapable of the joy and glory, while they have imperfect, sinful souls. The right qualification of our own spirits, for reception and action, is of absolute necessity to our happiness and rest.

2. And our bodies are uncapable as well as our souls. They are not now those sun-like bodies which they shall be, when this corruptible hath put on incorruption, and this mortal immortality. They are our prisons, and our burdens; so full of infirmities and defects, that we are fain to spend the most of our time in repairing them, and supplying their continual wants, and lenifying their

grievances. Is it possible that an immortal soul should have rest, in such a rotten, dirty, diseased, wayward, distempered, noisome habitation ; when it must every day expect to be turned out, and leave its beloved companion to the worms? Surely these sickly, weary, loathsome bodies must be refined to a perfection suitable thereto, before they can be capable of enjoying rest.

Ausw. 2. As we are unfit for rest on earth ourselves, so we want those objects that might afford us content and rest. For, first, Those we do enjoy are insufficient; and, secondly, That which is sufficient is absent from us. 1. We enjoy the world and its labours, and what fruit they can afford ; and, alas ! what is in all this to give us rest i They that have the most of it, have the greatest burden and the least rest of any others. They that set most by it, and rejoice most in it, do all cry out at last of its vanity and vexation. A contentation with our present estate, indeed, we must have ; that is, a competent provision in our journey; but not as our portion, happiness, or rest. Men cry out upon one another in these times, for not understanding providences, which are but commentaries on Scripture, and not the text. But if men were not blind, they might easily see that the first lecture that God readeth to us in all our late changes, and which providence doth still most inculcate and insist on, is the very same that is the first and greatest lesson in the Scripture; that is, that There is no rest nor happiness for the soul but in God. Men's expectations are high raised upon every change, and unexperienced fools do promise themselves presently a heaven upon earth ; but when they come to enjoy it, it flieth from them, and when they have run themselves out of breath in following this shadow, it is no nearer them than at the first setting out, and would have been as near them if they had sat still: as Solomon's dreamer, they feast in their sleep, but awake hungry. He that hath any regard to the works of the Lord, may easily see that the very end of them is to take down our idols, to weary us in the world, and force us to seek our rest in him. Where doth he cross us most, but where we promise ourselves most content ? If you have one child that you dote upon, it becomes your sorrow. If you have one friend that you trust in, and judge him unchangeable, and think yourself happy in, he is estranged from you, or becomes your scourge. Oh what a number of these experiences have I had ! Oh what sweet idolizing thoughts of our future estate had we in the time of wars ! And now where is the rest that I promised my soul I Even that is my greatest grief, from which I expected most content.

And for this, the greatest shame that ever befell our religion, and the greatest sorrow to every understanding Christian, God hath the solemn thanks of men, as if they begged that he would do so still; and they rejoice in it, and are heinously offended with those that dare not do so too, and run to God on all their errands. Instead of pure ordinances, we have a puddle of errors, and the ordinances themselves cried down and derided. Instead of the power and plenty of the gospel, we have every where plenty of o 2

violent gainsayers and seducers. We have pulpits and pamphlets filled with the most hellish reproachings of the servants and messengers of the most high God; provoking the people to hate their teachers, slandering them with that venom and impudent falsehood, as if the devil in them were bidding defiance to Christ, and were now entered upon his last and greatest battle with the Lamb ; as if they would justify Rabshakeh, and have Lucian and Julian sainted for the modesty of their reproaches. If a conscionable minister be but in doubt, (as knowing himself uncapable of understanding state mysteries, and not called to judge of them,) and so dare not go whine before God hypocritically in pretended humiliation, nor rejoice and give thanks when men command him, and read their scriptures; that is, their orders, which ministers were to read on pain of deposition or ejection, as knowing that men are fallible ; and if a man should upon mistake incur the guilt of so heinous, unexpressible sin, it were a fearful thing :* and, therefore, that to go to God doubtingly, or ignorantly, in an extraordinary duty, in a cause of such weight, is a desperate venture, far beyond venturing upon ceremonies, or popish transubstantiation, to say Christ is really present in the bread, for refusing of which the martyrs suffered in the flames ; I say, if he dare not do these, he must part from his dear people, whose souls are more precious to him than his life. Oh ! how many congregations in England have been again forced to part with their teachers in sorrow, not to speak of the ejection of such numbers in our universities! And for our so-much-desired discipline and holy order, was there ever a people under heaven, who called themselves reformers, that opposed it more desperately, and that vilified it and railed against it more scurrilously, as if it were but the device of ambitious presbyters, that trcdtorously sought domination over their superiors, and not the law and order established by Christ ? as if these men had never read the Scriptures, Heb. xiii. 7, 17; 1 Thess. v. 10—12; Acts XX. 28; 1 Cor. iv. 1 ; Matt. xxiv. 25—27 ; Tit. i. 7 ; 1 Tim. iii. 1, 4—6; iv. 11; v. 17—20; or will tread in the dirt the laws of Christ, which must judge them. And for railing at the ministers of the gospel, the pretenders of religion have so far outstripped the former profane ones, that it even woundeth my soul to think of their condition. Oh, where are the tender-hearted mourners that shall weep over England's sins and reproaches ? Is this a place or state of rest ? Hath not God met with our idolatrous setting-up of creatures, and taught us that all are not saints that can talk of religion ? much less are these pillars of our confidence, or the instrument to prepare us a rest upon earth. Oh that all this could warn us to set less by creatures, and at last to fetch our comforts and contentments from our God !

2. And as what we enjoy here is insufficient to be our rest, so God, who is sufficient, is little here enjoyed. It is not here that

* This was written when the usurpers made a war on Scotland, and made orders to sequester all ministers that would not keep days of humiliation and thanksgiving for those wars.

he hath prepared the presence-chamber of his glory; he hath chawn the curtain between us and him ; we are far from him as creatures, and farther as frail mortals, and farthest as sinners. We hear now and then a word of comfort from him, and receive his love-tokens, to keep up our hearts and hopes; but, alas ! this is not our full enjoyment. ^^ hile we are present in the body, we are absent from the Lord; even absent while he is present. For though he be not far from us, seeing we live, and move, and have our being in him, who is all in all, (not in all places, but all places in him,) yet have we not eyes now capable of seeing him, for mortals cannot see God and live ; even as we are present with stones and trees, but they neither see nor know us. And can any soul that hath made God his portion, and chosen him for his only happiness and rest, (as every one doth that shall be saved by him,) find rest in so vast a distance from him, and so seldom and so small enjoyment of him ?

3. And lastly, as we are thus naturally uncapable, so are we also morally, Gen. xxxii. 10. There is a worthiness must go before our rest. It hath the nature of a reward; not a reward of debt, but a reward of grace, Rom. iv. 3, 4. And so we have not a worthiness of debt, or proper merit; but a worthiness of grace and .preparation. If the apostles must give their peace and gospel to the worthy, (Matt. x. 10—13, 37, 38 ; Eph. iv. 1 ; Col. i. 10 ; 1 Thess. ii. 12 ; 2 Thess. i. 11,) Christ will give the crown to none but the worthy ; and those which, by preferring the world before him, do show themselves unworthy, shall not taste of his supper. Matt, xxii. 8 ; Luke xiv. 24 ; xx. 35 ; xxii. 36 ; 2 Thess. i. 5 ; x\cts v. 41. Yea, it is a work of God's justice, to give the crown to those that overcome ; not of his legal, but his evangelical justice ; for Christ hath bought us to it, and God hath promised it, and, therefore, in his judiciary process, he will adjudge it them as their due. To those that have fought the good fight, and finished their course, and kept the faith, a crown of righteousness is laid up for them, which the Lord, as a righteous Judge, will give them at that day, 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. And are we fit for the crown before we have overcome ; or the prize, before we have run the race ; or to receive our penny, before we have worked in the vineyard ; or to be ruler of ten cities, before we have improved our ten talents ; or to enter into the joy of our Lord, before we have well done as good and faithful servants; or to inherit the kingdom, before we have testified our love to Christ above the world, if we have opportunity ? Let men cry down works while they please, you shall find that these are the conditions of the crown : so that God will not alter the course of justice to give you rest, before you have laboured ; nor the crown of glory, till you have overcome.

You see, then, reason enough why our rest should remain till the life to come. O take heed, then. Christian reader, how thou darest to contrive and care for a rest on earth ; or to murmur at God for thy trouble and toil, and wants in the flesh. Doth thy poverty weary thee .' thy sickness weary thee ? thy bitter enemies and un-

kind friends weary thee ? why, it should be so here. Do thy seeing and hearing the abominations of the times, the ruins of the church, the sins of professors, the reproach of religion, the hardening of the wicked, all weary thee ? why, it must be so while thou art absent from thy rest. Do thy sins, and thy naughty, distempered heart weary thee ? I would thou wast wearied with it more. But, under all this weariness, art thou willing to go to God, thy rest; and to have thy warfare accomplished, and thy race and labour ended 1 If not, O complain more of thy own heart, and get it more weary, till rest seem more desirable.

CHAPTER X.

WHETHER THE SOULS DEPARTED ENJOY THIS REST BEFORE THE RESURRECTION.

Sect. I. I have but one thing more to clear, before I come to the use of this doctrine ; and that is, whether this rest remains till the resurrection, before we shall enjoy it; or whether we shall have any possession of it before ? The Socinians, and many others of late among us, think the soul separated from the body, is either nothing, or at least not capable of happiness or misery. Truly, if it should be so, it would be somewhat a sad, uncomfortable doctrine to the godly at their death, to think of being deprived of their glory till the resurrection ; and somewhat comfortable to the wicked to think of tarrying out of hell so long. But I am in strong hopes that this doctrine is false ; yea, very confident that it is so. I do believe, that as the soul separated from the body is not a perfect man, so it doth not enjoy the glory and happiness so fully and so perfectly, as it shall do after the resurrection, when they are again conjoined. What the difference is, and what degree of glory souls in the mean time enjoy, are too high things for mortals particularly to discern. For the great question, what place the souls of those before Christ, of infants, and all others since Christ, do remain in, till the resurrection ? I think it is a vain inquiry of what is yet beyond our reach. It is a great question what place is; but if it be only a circumstant body, and if to be in a place be only to be in a circumstant body, or in the superficies of an ambient body, or in the concavity of that superficies, then it is doubtful whether spirits can be properly said to be in a place. We can have yet no clear conceivings of these things. But that separated souls of believers do enjoy unconceivable blessedness and glory, even while they remain thus separated from the body, I prove as followeth. (Besides all those arguments for the soul's immortality, which you may read in Alexander Ross's Philosophical Touchstone, part last; and in abundance of writers, metaphysical and theological.)

1. Those words of Paul, 2 Cor. v. 8, are so exceeding plain, that

I yet understand not what tolerable exception can bo made against them. " Therefore we are always confident, knowing that while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord : for we walk by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and present with the Lord," ver. G—8. What can be spoken more plainly ? So also verses 1—4, of the same chapter,

2. As plain is that in Phil. i. 23, " For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better." What sense were in these words, if Paul had not expected to enjoy Christ till the resurrection t Why should he be in a strait, or desire to depart? Should he be with Christ ever the sooner for that.' Nay, should he not have been loth to depart upon the very same grounds ? For while he was in the flesh, he enjoyed something of Christ; but being departed, (according to the So-cinians' doctrine,) he should enjoy nothing of Christ till the day of resurrection.

3. And plain enough is that of Christ to the thief, " This day shalt thou be with me in paradise." The dislocation of the words " This day" is but a gross evasion.

4. And sure if it be but a parable of the rich man in hell and Lazarus; yet it seems unlikely to me, that Christ would teach them by such a parable, what seemed evidently to intimate and suppose the soul's happiness or misery presently after death, if there were no such thing,

5. Doth not his argument against the Sadducees, for the resurrection, run upon this supposition, that (God being not the God of the dead, but of the living, therefore) Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, were then living, i. e, in soul, and, consequently, should have their bodies raised at the resurrection,

6. Plain also is that in Rev. xiv. 13, " Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them ;" i. e. close as the garments on a man's back follow him, and not at such a distance as the resurrection; for if the blessedness were only in resting in the grave, then a beast or a stone were as blessed; nay, it were evidently a curse, and not a blessing. For was not life a great mercy ? was it not a greater mercy to enjoy all the comforts of life; to enjoy the fellowship of the saints, the comfort of the ordinances, and much of Christ in all; to be employed in the delightful work of God, and to edify his church .'' &c. Is it not a curse to be so deprived of all these ? do not these yield a great deal more sweetness, than all the troubles of this life can yield us bitterness ? Though I think not, as some, that it is better to be most miserable, even in hell, than not to be at all; yet it is undeniable, that it is better to enjoy life, and so much of the comforts of life, and so much of God in comforts and affliction, as the saints do, though we have all this with persecution; than to lie rotting in the grave, if that were all we could expect. Therefore it is some further blessedness that is there promised.

7. How else is it said, " that we are come to Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn, which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect," Heb. xii. 22, 23. Sure at the resurrection the body will be made perfect, as well as the spirit. To say (as Lushington doth) that they are said to be made perfect, because they are sure of it as if they had it, is an evasion so grossly contradicting the text, that by such commentaries he may as well deny any truth in Scripture ; to make good which, he as much abuseth that of Phil. iii. 12.

8. Doth not the Scripture tell us, that Enoch and Elias are taken up already ? and shall we think that they possess that glory alone ?

9. Did not Peter, and James, and John, see Moses also with Christ on the mount ? yet the Scripture saith Moses died. And is it likely that Christ did delude their senses, in showing them Moses, if he should not partake of that glory till the resurrection ?

10. And is not that of Stephen as plain as we can desire ? " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Sure, if the Lord receive it, it is neither asleep, nor dead, nor annihilated; but it is where he is, and beholds his glory.

11. The like may be said of that, " The spirit shall return to God who gave it," Eccles. xii. 7.

12. How else is it said, " that we have eternal life already ?" John vi, 54. And that " the knowledge of God (which is begun here) is eternal life," John xvii. 3, So 1 John v. 13. " And he that believeth on Christ, hath everlasting life. He that eateth this bread shall not die. For he dwelleth in Christ, and Christ in him. And as the Son liveth by the Father, so he that eateth him shall live by him," John iii. 36; vi. 47, 50, 56, 57. How is " the kingdom of God and of heaven (which is eternal) said to be in us?" Luke xvii. 21 ; Rom. xiv. 17 ; Matt. xiii.

Surely, if there be as great an interruption of our life as till the resurrection, which with some will be many thousand years, this is no eternal life, nor everlasting kingdom. Lushington's evasion is, " That because there is no time with dead men, but they so sleep that when they awake it is all one to them as if it had been at first, therefore the Scripture speaks of them as if they were there already." It is true, indeed, if there were no joy till the resurrection, then that consideration would be comfortable ; but when God hath thus plainly told us of it before, then this evasion contra-dicteth the text. Doubtless there is time also to the dead, though, in respect of their bodies, they perceive it not. He will not sure think it a happiness to be putrified or stupified, whilst others are enjoying the comforts of life; if he do, it were the best course to sleep out our lives.

13. In Jude 7, the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah are spoken of as " suffering the vengeance of eternal fire :" and if the wicked do already suffer eternal fire, then no doubt but the godly do enjoy

eternal blessedness. I know some understand the place, of that fire which consumed their bodies, as being a type of the fire of hell: I will not be very confident against this exposition, but the text seemeth plainly to spt^ak moi-e.

14. It is also observable, that when John saw his glorious revelations, he is said to be " in the Spirit," Rev. i. 10 ; iv. 2, and to be " carried away in the Spirit," Rev. xvii. 3 ; xxi. 10. And when Paul had his revelations, and saw things unutterable, he knew not whether it were in the body, or out of the body. All implying that spirits are capable of these glorious things, without the help of their bodies.

15. And though it be a prophetical, obscure book, yet it seems to me, that those words in the Revelation do imply this, where John saw the souls under the altar. Rev. vi. 9, &c.

16. We are commanded by Christ, " not to fear them that can kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul," Luke xii. 4. Doth not this plainly imply, that when wicked men have killed our bodies, that is, separated the souls from them, yet the souls are still alive ?

17. The soul of Christ was alive when his body was dead, and therefore so shall ours too ; for his created nature was like ours, except in sin. That Christ's human soul was alive, is a necessary consequent of its hypostatical union with the Divine nature, as I judge. And by his words to the thief, " This day shalt thou be with me in paradise :" so also by his voice on the cross, " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit," Luke xxiii. 46. And whether that in 1 Pet. iii. 18, 19, that he went and preached to the spirits in prison, &c. will prove it, I leave to others to judge. Read lllyricus's arguments in his Clavis Scripturee, on this text. Many think that the opposition is not so irregular, as to put the dative aapKi for eV aupKi, as the subject recipient, and the dative Trvevfiari for cia TTuev/nmo^, as the efficient cause; but that it is plainly to be understood as a regular opposition, that Christ was mortified in the flesh, but vivified in the spirit, that is, in the spirit which is usually put in opposition to this flesh, which is the soul, by which spirit, &c. But I leave this as doubtful; there is enough besides.

18. ^^ hy is there mention of God's breathing into man the breath of life, and calling his soul a living soul { There is no mention of any such thing in the creating of other creatures ; sure, therefore, this makes some difference between the life of our souls and theirs.

19. It appears in Saul's calling for Samuel to the witch, and in the Jews' expectation of the coming of Elias, that they took it for current, then, that Elias' and Samuel's souls were living.

20. Lastly: If the spirits of those that were disobedient in the days of Noah, were in prison, (1 Pet. iii. 19,) then certainly the separated spirits in the just, are in an opposite condition of happiness. If any say that the word " prison " signifieth not their full misery, but a reservation thereto, I grant it; yet it importeth a reservation in a living, and suffering state, for were they nothing, they could not be in prison.

Though I have but briefly named these twenty arguments, and put them together in a narrow room, when some men cannot see the truth without a multitude of words; yet I doubt not but, if you will well consider them, you will discern the clear evidence of Scripture verity. It is a lamentable case that the brutish opinion of the soul's mortality should find so many patrons professing godliness, when there is so clear light of Scripture against them, and when the opinion tends to no other end than the imboldening of sin, the cherishing of security, and the great discomfort and discouragement of the saints, and when many pagans were wiser in this without the help of Scripture : surely this error is an introduction to paganism itself. Yea more, the most of the nations in the world, even the barbarous Indians, do, by the light of nature, acknowledge that, which these men deny, even that there is a happiness and misery which the souls go presently to, which are separated from their bodies. I know the silly, evading answers that are usually given to the forementioned scriptures, which being carried with confidence and subtle words, may soon shake the ordinary sort of Christians that are not able to deal with a sophister. And if they be thoroughly dealt with, they presently appear to be mere vanity or contradiction. Were there but that one text, 2 Cor. v. 8; or that, 1 Pet. iii. 19; or that, Phil. i. 23; all the seducers in the world could not answer them.

Believe, therefore, stedfastly, O faithful souls, that whatever all the deceivers in the world shall say to the contrary, your souls shall no sooner leave their prisons of flesh, but angels will be their convoy, Christ will be their company, with all the perfected spirits of the just; heaven will be their residence, and God will be their happiness. And you may boldly and believingly, when you die, say, as Stephen, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," and commend it, as Christ did, into a Father's hands.

PART III.

CONTAINING

SEVERAL USES OF THE FORMER DOCTRINE OF REST.

CHAPTER I.

Sect. I. Whatsoever the soul of man doth entertain, must make its first entrance at the understanding; which must he satisfied, first, of its truth, and, secondly, of its goodness, before it find any further admittance : if this porter he negligent, it will admit of any thing that bears but the face or name of truth and goodness ; but if it be faithful, able, and diligent in its office, it will examine strictly, and search to the quick ; what is found decertful, it casteth out, that it go no further ; but what is found to be sincere and current, it letteth in to the very heart, where the will and affections do with welcome entertain it, and by concoction, as it were, incorporate it into their own substance. Accordingly, I have been hitherto presenting to your understandings, first, the excellency of the rest of saints, in the first part of this book ; and then the verity, in the second part. I hope your understandings have now tasted this food, and tried what hath been expressed. Truth fears not the light. This perfect beauty abhorreth darkness; nothing but ignorance of its worth can disparage it. Therefore search, and spare not; read, and read again, and then judge. What think you ; is it good, or is it not ? nay, is it not the chiefest good ? And is there any thing in goodness to be compared with it i And is it true, or is it not? Nay, is there any thing in the world more certain, than that there remaineth a rest to the people of God ? Why, if your understandings are convinced of both these, I do here, in the behalf of God and his truth, and in the behalf of your own souls, and their life, require the further entertainment hereof; and that you take this blessed subject of rest, and commend it as you have found it to your wills and affections : let your hearts now cheerfully embrace it, and improve it, and I shall present it to you, in its respective uses.

And though the laws of method do otherwise direct me, yet because I conceive it most profitable, I will lay close together, in the first place, all those uses that most concern the ungodly, that they may know where to find their lesson, and not to pick it up and down intermixed with uses of another strain. iVnd then I shall lay down those uses that are more proper to the godly by themselves, in the end.

Use I.— Showing the imconceivable misery of the ungodly in their loss of this rest.

Sect. II. And, first, If this rest be for none but for the people of God, what doleful tidings is this to the ungodly world ! That there is so much glory, but none for them ! so great joys for the saints of God, while they must consume in perpetual sorrows ! such rest for them that have obeyed the gospel, while they must be restless in the flames of hell ! If thou who readest these words, art in thy soul a stranger to Christ, and to the holy nature and life of his people, and art not of them who are before described, and shalt live and die in the same condition that thou art now in; let me tell thee, I am a messenger of the saddest tidings to thee, that ever yet thy ears did hear : that thou shalt never partake of the joys of heaven, nor have the least taste of the saints' eternal rest. I may say to thee, as Ehud to Eglon, I have a message to thee from God; but it is a mortal message, against the very life and hopes of thy soul, that, as true as the word of God is true, thou shalt never see the face of God with comfort. This sentence I am commanded to pass upon thee, from the word : take it as thou wilt, and escape it if thou canst. I know thy humble and hearty subjection to Christ would procure thy escape ; and if thy heart and life were thoroughly changed, thy relation to Christ and eternity would be changed also ; he would then acknowledge thee for one of his people, and justify thee from all things that could be charged upon thee, and give thee a portion in the inheritance of his chosen : and if this might be the happy success of my message, I should be so far from repining like Jonas, that the threatenings of God are not executed upon thee, that, on the contrary, I should bless the day that ever God made me so happy a messenger, and return him hearty thanks upon my knees, that ever he blessed his word in my mouth with such desired success. But 'if thou end thy days in thy present condition, whether thou be fully resolved never to change, or whether thou spend thy days in fruitless purposing to be better hereafter, all is one for that; I say, if thou live and die in thy un-regenerate estate, as sure as the heavens are over thy head, and the earth under thy feet; as sure as thou livest, and breathest in this air, so sure shalt thou be shut out of this rest of the saints, and receive thy portion in everlasting fire. I do here expect that thou shouldst, in the pride and scorn of thy heart, turn back upon me, and show thy teeth, and say, Who made you the door-keeper of heaven ? When were you there ? and when did God show you the book of life, or tell you who they are that shall be saved, and who shut out ?

I will not answer thee according to thy folly, but truly and plainly as I can discover this thy folly to thyself, that if there be yet any hope, thou mayst recover thy understanding, and yet return to God and live. First, I do not name thee, nor any other : I do not conclude of the persons individually, and say. This man shall be shut out of heaven, and that man shall be taken in. I only conclude it

of the unregenerate in general, and of thee conditionally, if thou be such a one. Secondly, I do not go about to deterniiiie who shall repent, and who shall not; nuich less that thou shalt never repent, and come in to Christ, These things are unknown to me ; I had far rather show thee what hopes thou hast before thee, if thou wilt not sit still and lose them, and by thy wilful carelessness cast away thy hopes ; and I would far rather persuade thee to hearken in time, while there is hope, and opportunity, and offers of grace, and before the door is shut against thee, that so thy soul may return and live, than to tell thee that there is no hope of thy repenting and returning. But if thou lie hoping that thou shalt return, and never do it; if thou talk of repenting and believing, but still art the same; if thou live and die with the world, and thy credit or pleasure nearer thy heart than Jesus Christ; in a word, if the foregoing description of the people of God do not agree with the state of thy soul, it is then a hard question, whether thou shalt ever be saved; even as hard a question as, whether God be true, or the Scripture be his word. Cannot I certainly tell, that thou shalt perish for ever, except I had seen the book of life !' ^Vhy, the Bible also is the book of life, and it describeth plainly those that shall be saved, and those that shall be condenmed. Though it do not name them, yet it tells you all those signs and conditions by which they may be known. Do I need to ascend up into heaven, to know, " that without holiness none shall see God," Heb. xii. 14; or, " that it is the pure in heart who shall see God," Matt. v. 8 ; or, " that except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God," John iii. 3; or, " that he that believeth not (that is, stoops not to Christ as his King and Saviour) is condemned already, and that he shall not see life, but the wrath of God abid-eth on him," John iii. 18, 36 ; " and that except you repent, (which includes reformation,) you shall all perish," Luke xiii. 3, 5 ; with a hundred more such plain Scripture expressions. Cannot these be known without searching into God's counsels ? Why, thou ignorant, or wilful, self-deluding sot! hath thy Bible lain by thee in thy house so long, and didst thou never read such words as these ? or hast thou read it, or heard it read so oft, and yet dost thou not remember such passages as these ? Nay, didst thou not find that the great drift of the Scripture is, to show men who they are that shall be saved, and who not; and let them see the condition of both estates ? And yet dost thou ask me, how I know who shall be saved ? What need I go up to heaven to inquire that of Christ, which he came down to earth to tell us; and sent his Spirit in his prophets and apostles to tell us; and hath left upon record to all the world ! And though I do not know the secrets of thy heart, and therefore cannot tell thee by name whether it be thy state, or no; yet, if thou art but willing or diligent, thou mayst know thyself, whether thou art an heir of heaven, or not. And that is the main thing that I desire, that if thou be yet miserable, thou mayst discern it, and escape it. But canst thou possibly escape, if thou neglect Christ and salvation ? Heb. ii. 3.

Is it not resolved on, " that if thou love father, mother, wife, children, house, lauds, or thine own life, better than Christ, thou canst not be his disciple," Matt. x. 31; Luke xiv. 20; and consequently can never be saved by him ? Is this the word of man, or of God ? Is it not then an undoubted concluded case, that, in the case thou art now in, thou hast not the least title to heaven ? Shall I tell thee from the word of God, it is as impossible for thee to be saved, except thou be born again, and be made a new creature, as it is for the devils themselves to be saved ? Nay, God hath more plainly and frequently spoken it in the Scripture, that such sinners as thou shall never be saved, than he hath done, that the devils shall never be saved. And doth not this tidings go cold to thy heart ? Me-thinks, but that there is yet life and hope before thee, and thou hast yet time and means to have thy soul recovered, else it should kill thy heart with terror ; and the sight of thy doleful, discovered case, should even strike thee dead with amazement and horror. If old Eli fell from his seat and died, to hear that the ark of God was gone, which was but an outward sign of his presence ; how then should thy heart be astonished with this tidings, that thou hast lost the Lord God himself, and all thy title to his eternal presence and delight! If Rachel wept for children, and would not be comforted, because they were not; how then shouldst thou now sit down and weep for the happiness and future life of the soul, because to thee it is not! When King Belshazzar saw but a piece of a hand sent from God, writing over against him on the wall, it made his countenance change, his thoughts trouble him, his loins loosen in the joints, and knees smite one against another, Dan v. 6. Why, what trembling then should seize on thee, who hast the hand of God himself against thee ; not in a sentence or two only, but in the very tenor and scope of the Scriptures ; not threatening thee with the loss of a kingdom only, as he did Belshazzar, but with the loss of thy part in the everlasting kingdom ! But because I would fain have thee, if it be possible, to lay it close to thy heart, I will here stay a little longer, and show thee. First, The greatness of thy loss; and. Secondly, The aggravations of thy unhappiness in this loss; Thirdly, And the positive miseries that thou mayst also endure, with their aggravations.

Sect. III. First: The ungodly, in their loss of heaven, do lose all that glorious, personal perfection which the people of God do there enjoy. They lose that shining lustre of the body, surpassing the brightness of the sun at noon-day: though perhaps even the bodies of the wicked will be raised more spiritual, incorruptible bodies, than they were on earth ; yet that will be so far from being a happiness to them, that it only makes them capable of the more exquisite torments ; their understandings being now more capable of apprehending the greatness of their loss, and their senses more capable of feeling their sufferings. They would be glad, then, if every member were a dead member, that it might not feel the punishment inflicted on it; and if the whole body were a rotten carcass, or might again lie down in the dust and darkness. The devil

himself hath an angelical and excellent nature, but that only honoureth his skilful Creator, but is no honour or comfort at all to himself. The glory, the beauty, the comfortable perfections, they are deprived of; much more do they want that moral perfection which the blessed do partake of: those holy dispositions and qualifications of mind; that blessed conformity to the holiness of (iod ; that cheerful readiness to his will; that perfect rectitude of all their actions : instead of these, they have their old, ulcerous, deformed souls, that perverseness of will, that disorder in their faculties, that loathing of good, that love to evil, that violence of passion, which they had on earth. It is true, their understandings will be much cleared, both by the ceasing of their temptation and deluding objects which they had on earth, as also by the sad experience which they will have in hell, of the falsehood of their former conceits and delusions; but this proceeds not from the sanctifying of their natures : and perhaps their experience and too-late understanding may restrain much of the evil motions of their wills, which they had formerly here on earth ; but the evil disposition is never the more changed. So also will the conversation of the damned in hell be void of many of those sins which they commit here on earth. They will be drunk no more, and whore no more, and be gluttonous no more, nor oppress the innocent, nor grind the poor, nor devour the houses and estates of their brethren, nor be revenged on their enemies, nor persecute and destroy the members of Christ: all these, and many more actual sins, will then be laid aside. But this is not from any renewing of their natures ; they have the same dispositions still, and fain they would commit the same sins, if they could : they want but opportunity; they are now tied up. It is part of their torment to be denied these their pleasures: no thanks to them, that they sin not as much as ever; their hearts are as bad, though their actions are restrained ; nay, it is a great question whether those remainders of good which were left in their natures on earth, as their common honesty and moral virtues, be not all taken from them in hell, according to that, " From him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath," Matt. iii. 12; Luke viii. 18. This is the judgment of divines generally ; but because it is questionable, and much may be said against it, I will let that pass. But certainly they shall have none of the glorious perfections of the saints, either in soul or body : there will be a greater difference between these wretches and the glorified Christian, than there is betwixt a toad under a sill and the sun in the firmament. The rich man's purple robes and delicious fare did not so exalt him above Lazarus at his door in scabs, nor make the difference between them so wide, as it is now made on the contrary in their vast separation.

Sect. IV. Secondly : But the great loss of the damned will be their loss of God; they shall have no comfortable relation to him, nor any of the saints' communion with him. As they did not like to retain God in their mind, but said to him, " Depart from us, we desire not the knowledge of thy ways," Rom. i. 28; Job

xxi. 14; so God will abhor to retain them in his household, or to give them entertainment in his fellowship and glory. He will never admit them to the inheritance of his saints, nor endure them, to stand amongst them in his presence; but bid them, " Depart from me, ye workers of iniquity, I know you not." Now, these men dare belie the Lord, if not blaspheme, in calling him by the title of their Father. How boldly and confidently do they daily approach him with their lips, and indeed reproach him in their formal prayers, with that appellation, " Our Father !" As if God would father the devil's children; or as if the slighters of Christ, the pleasers of the flesh, the friends of the world, the haters of godliness, or any that trade in sin, and delight in iniquity, were the offspring of heaven ! They are ready now, in the height of their presumption, to lay as confident claims to Christ and heaven, as if they were sincere, believing saints. The swearer, the drunkard, the whoremaster, the worldling, can scornfully say to the people of God, What, is not God our Father as well as yours ? Doth he not love us as well as you ? Will he save none but a few holy precisians ? Oh ! but when that time is come, when the case must be decided, and Christ will separate his followers from his foes, and his faithful friends from his deceived flatterers, where then will be their presumptuous claim to Christ ? Then they shall find that God is not their Father, but their resolved foe, because they would not be his people, but were resolved in their negligence and wickedness. Then, though they had preached or wrought miracles in his name, he will not know them; and though they were his brethren or sisters after the flesh, yet he will not own them, but reject them as his enemies, i^nd even those that did eat and drink in his presence on earth, shall be cast out of his heavenly presence for ever; and those that in his name did cast out devils, shall yet at his command be cast out to those devils, and endure the torments prepared for them. And, as they would not consent that God should by his Spirit dwell in them, so shall.not these evil-doers dwell with him. The tabernacles of wickedness shall have no fellowship with him; nor the wicked inhabit the city of God: for without are the dogs, the sorcerers, whoremongers, murderers, idolaters, and whatsoever loveth and maketh a lie. For God knoweth the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked leads to perishing. God is first enjoyed in part on earth, before he be fully enjoyed in heaven. It is only they that walked with him here, who shall live and be happy with him there. Oh, little doth the world now know what a loss that soul hath, who loseth God! What were the world but a dungeon, if it had lost the sun ? What were the body but a loathsome carrion, if it had lost the soul ? Yet all these are nothing to the loss of God; even the little taste of the fruition of God, which the saints enjoy in this life, is dearer to them than all the world. As the world, when they feed upon their forbidden pleasures, may cry out with the sons of the prophet, " There is death in the pot!" 2 Kings iv. 40 ; so when the saints do but taste of the favour of God, they cry out with David, " In

his favour is life!" Psal. xxx. 5. Nay, though life bo naturally most (loar to all uw.n, y(^t tlioy that have tasttnl and tried, do say .with David, " J lis loving-kindmvss is hotter than life !" Psal. Ixiii. 3. So that, as the enjoyment of God is the heaven of the saints, so the loss of God is the hell of the ungodly. And, as the enjoying of God is the enjoying of all, so the loss of God is the loss of all.

Sect. V. Thirdly : Moreover, as they lose God, so they lose all those spiritual, delightful affections and actions, by wliich the blessed do feed on God: that transporting knowledge; those ravishing views of his glorious face; 'the unconceivable pleasure of loving God; the apprehensions of his infinite love to us ; the constant joys which his saints are taken up with, and the rivers of consolation wherewith he doth satisfy them. Is it nothing to lose all this ! The employment of a king in ruling a kingdom doth not so far exceed the employment of the vilest scullion or slave, as this heavenly employment exceedeth his.

These wretches had no delight in praising God on earth, their recreations and pleasures were of another nature; and now, when the saints are singing his praises, and employed in magnifying the Lord of saints, then shall the ungodly he denied this happiness, and have an employment suitable to their natures and deserts. Their hearts were full of hell upon earth; instead of God, and his love, and fear, and graces, there was pride, and self-love, and lust, and unbelief: and, therefore, hell must now entertain those hearts which formerly entertained so much of it. Their houses on earth were the resemblances of hell; instead of worshipping God, and calling upon his name, there was scorning at his worship, and swearing by his name : and now hell nmst therefore be their habitation for ever, where they shall never be troubled with that worship and duty which they ai)horred, but join with the rest of the damned in blaspheming that God who is avenging their former impieties and blasphemies. Can it probably be expected, that they who made themselves merry, while they lived on earth, in deriding the persons and families of the godly, for their frequent worshipping and praising God, should at last be admitted into the family of heaven, and join with those saints in those most perfect praises ? Surely, without a sound change upon their hearts before they go hence, it is utterly impossible. It is too late then to say, " Give us of your oil, for our lamps are out; lot us now enter with you to the marriage feast; let us now join with you in the joyful heavenly melody." You should have joined in it on earth, if you would have joined in heaven. As your eyes must be taken up with other kind of sights, so must your hearts be taken up with other kind of thoughts, and your voices turned to another tune. As the doors of heaven will be shut against you, so will that joyous employment be denied to you. There is no singing the songs of Sion in the land of your thraldom. Those that go down to the pit do not praise him. Who can rejoice in the place of sorrows; and who can be glad in the land of confusion ? God suits men's employments to

p

their natures. The bent of your spirits was another way ; your hearts were never set upon God in your lives ; you were never admirers of his attributes and works, nor ever thoroughly warmed with his love. You never longed after the enjoyment of him ; you had no delight to speak or to hear of him ; you were weary of a sermon or prayer an hour long; you had rather have continued on earth, if you had known how; you had rather yet have a place of earthly preferment, or lands and lordships, or a feast, or sj)orts, or your cups, or whores, than to be interested in the glorious praises of God: and is it meet, then, that you should be members of the celestial quire ? A swine is fitter for a lecture of philosophy, or an ass to build a city or govern a kingdom, or a dead corpse to feast at thy table, than thou art for this work of heavenly praise.

Sect. VI. Fourthly : They shall also be deprived of the blessed society of angels and glorified saints. Instead of being companions of those happy spirits, and numbered with those joyful and triumphing kings, they must now be members of the corporation of hell, where they shall have companions of a far different nature and quality. While they lived on earth, they loathed the saints; they imprisoned, banished them, and cast them out of their societies ; or at least they would not be their companions in labour and in sufferings ; and, therefore, they shall not now be their companions in their glory : scorning them and abusing them, hating them, and rejoicing in their calamities, was not the way to obtain their blessedness. If you would have shined with them as stars in the firmament of their Father, you should have joined v/ith them in their holiness, and faith, and painfulness, and patience. You should have first been ingrafted with them into Christ, the common stock, and then incorporated into the fraternity of the members, and walked with them in singleness of heart, and watched with them with oil in your lamps, and joined with them in mutual exhortation, in faithful admonitions, in conscionable reformation, in prayer, and in praise. You should have travelled with them out of the Egypt of your natural estate, through the Red Sea and wilderness of humiliation and affliction, and have cheerfully taken up the cross of Christ, as well as the name and profession of Christians, and rejoiced with them in suffering persecution and tribulation. All this if you had faithfully done, you might now have been triumphing with them in glory, and have possessed with them their Master's joy. But this you could not, you would not endure ; your souls loathed it, your flesh was against it, and that flesh must be pleased, though you were told plainly and frequently what would come of it: and now you partake of the fruit of your folly, and endure but what you were foretold you must endure; and are shut out of that company, from which you first shut out yourselves; and are separated but from them whom you would not be joined M'ith. You could not endure them in your houses, nor in your town, nor scarce in the kingdom. You took them, as Ahab did Elias, for the trou-blers of the land, 1 Kings xviii. 17 ; and as the apostles were taken for men that turned the world upside down, Acts xvii. 6;

if any thing fell out amiss, you thought all was long of them. AN'hen thoy were dead or banished, you were glad they were gone, and thought the country was well rid of them. They molested you with their faithful reproving your sin. Their holy conversation did trouble your consciences, to see them so far excel yourselves, and to condemn your looseness by their strictness, and your profaneness by their conscionable lives, and your negligence by their unwearied diligence. You scarce ever heard them pray or sing praises in their families, but it was a vexation to you ; and you envied their liberty in the worshipping of God, And is it, then, any wonder if you be separated from them hereafter.'' The day is near when they will trouble you no more : betwixt them and you will be a great gulf set, that those that would pass from thence to you (if any had a desire to ease you with a drop of water) cannot; neither can they pass to them who would go from you, for if they could, there would none be left behind, LidvC xvi. 26. Even in this life, while the saints were imperfect in their passions and infirmities, clothed with the same frail flesh as other men, and were mocked, destitute, afflicted, and tormented, yet, in the judgment of the Holy Ghost^ they were such, of whom the world was not worthy, Heb. xi. 30— o8. Much more unworthy are they of their fellowship in their glory.

CHAPTER n.

THE AGGRAVATION OF TfiE LOSS OF HEAVEN TO THE- UNGODLY.

Sect. I. I know many of the wicked will be ready to think, if this be all, they do not much care, they can bear it well enough : what care they for losing the perfections above ? What care they for losing God, his favour, or his presence ? They lived merrily without him on earth, and why should it be so grievous to be without him hereafter I And what care they for being deprived of that love, and joy, and praising of God ? They never tasted sweetness in the things of that nature. Or what care they for being deprived of the felloY>-ship of angels and saints ? They could spare their company in this world well enough, and why may they not be without it in the world to come ? To make these men, therefore, to understand the truth of their future condition, I will here annex these two things:

1. I will show you why this forementioned loss will be intolerable, and will be most tormenting then, though it seem as nothing now.

2. I will show you what other losses will accompany these; which, though they are less in themselves, yet will now be more sensibly apprehended by these sensual men : and all this from reason, and the truth of Scripture.

1. Then, That this loss of heaven will be then most tormenting, may appear by these considerations following : p 2

First: The understandings of the ungodly will be then cleared, to know the worth of that which they have lost. Now, they lament not their loss of God, because they never knew his excellency, nor the loss of that holy employment and society, for they were never sensible what they were worth. A man that hath lost a jewel, and took it but for a common stone, is never troubled at his loss ; but when he comes to know what he lost, then he lamenteth it. Though the understandings of the damned will not then be sanctified, (as I said before,) yet will they be cleared from a multitude of errors which now possess them, and mislead them to their ruin. They think now that their honour with men, their estates, their pleasures, their health, and life, are better worth their studies and labour than the things of another world which they never saw ; but when these things, which had their hearts, have left them in misery, and given them the slip in their greatest need; when they come to know by experience the things which before they did but read and hear of, they will then be quite in another mind. They would not believe that water would drown, till they were in the sea; nor that the fire would burn, till they were cast into it; but when they feel it, they will easily believe. All that error of their mind, which made them set light by God, and abhor his worship, and vilify his people, will then be confuted and removed by experience ; their knowledge shall be increased, that their sorrows may be increased, Eccles. i. 18 ; as Adam by his fall did come to the knowledge of good and evil, so shall all the damned have this increase of knowledge. As the knowledge of the excellency of that good which they do enjoy, and of that evil which they have escaped, is necessary to the glorified saints, that they may rationally and truly enjoy their glory; so the knowledge of the greatness of that good which they have lost, and of that evil which they have procured to themselves, is necessary to the tormenting of these wretched sinners : for as the joys of heaven are not so much enjoyed by the bodily senses, as by the intellect and affections; so it is by understanding their misery, and by affections answerable, that the wicked shall endure the most of their torments : for as it was the soul that was the chiefest in the guilt, (whether it be positively, by leading to sin, or only privatively, in not keeping the authority of reason over sense, that the understanding is most usually guilty, I will not now dispute,) so shall the soul be chiefest in the punishment: doubtless, those poor souls would be comparatively happy, if their understandings were wholly taken from them, if they had no more knowledge than idiots or brute beasts ; or if they knew no more in hell than they did upon earth, their loss and misery would then less trouble them. Though all knowledge be physically good, yet some may be neither morally good, nor good to the owner. Therefore, when the Scripture saith of the wicked, '' that they shall not see life," John iii. 36, nor " see God," Heb. xii. 14, the meaning is, they shall not possess life, nor see God, as the saints do, to enjoy him by that sight; they shall not see him with any comfort, nor as their own; but yet they shall see him, to their terror, as their

enoniy; and, I think, thoy shall have some kind of eternal knowledge or beholding of God and heaven, and tht; saints that are there happy, as a necessary ingredient to their unutterable calamity. The rich man shall see Abraham and l.azarus, but afar olf, Luke xvi. 2.'3: as God beholdeth them afar olf, (Psal. cxxxviii. (),) so shall they behold God afar olf. Oh how happy men would they think themselves, if they did not know that there is such a place as heaven ; or if they could but shut their eyes, and cease to behold it! Now, when their knowledge would help to prevent their misery, they will not know, or will not read and study that they may know ; therefore, then when their knowledge will but feed their consuming fire, they shall know, whether they will or no. As toads and serpents know not their own vile and venomous nature, nor the excellent nature of man, or other creatures, and therefore are neither troubled at their own, nor desirous of ours, so is it with the wicked here ; but when their eyes at death shall be suddenly opened, then the case will be suddenly altered. They are now in a dead sleep, and they dream they are the happiest men in the world, and that the godly are but a company of precise fools, and that either heaven will be theirs, as sure as another's, or else they may make a shift without it as they have done here; but when death smites these men, and bids them awake, and arouses them out of their pleasant dreams, how will they stand up amazed and confounded ; how will their judgments be changed in a moment; and they that would not see, shall then see, and be ashamed !

Sect. II. Another reason to prove that the loss of heaven will more torment them then, is this ; because as the understanding will be cleared, so it will be more enlarged, and made more capacious to conceive of the worth of that glory which they have lost. The strength of their apprehensions, as well as the truth of them, will then be increased, ^^'hat deep apprehensions of the wrath of God, or the madness of sinning, of the misery of sinners, have those souls that now endure this misery, in comparison of those on earth that do but hear of it! ^^llat sensible apprehensions of the worth of life hath the condemned man that is going to be executed, in comparison of what he was Avont to have in the time of his prosperity ! much more will the actual deprivation of eternal blessedness make the damned exceeding apprehensive of the greatness of their loss ; and as a large vessel will hold more water than a shell, so will their more enlarged understandings contain more matter to feed their torment, than now their shallow capacity can do.

Sect. III. And as the damned will have clearer and deeper apprehensions of the happiness which they have lost, so will they have a truer and closer application of this doctrine to themselves, which will exceedingly tend to increase their torment. It will then be no hard matter to them to say. This is my loss, and this is my everlasting remediless misery. The want of this is the main cause why they are now so little troubled at their condition; they are hardly brought to believe that there is such a state of misery.

but more hardly to believe that it is like to be their own. This makes so many sermons to them to be lost, and all threatenings and warnings to prove in vain. Let a minister of Christ show them their misery never so plainly and faithfully, and they will not be persuaded that they are so miserable : let him tell them of the glory they must lose, and the sufferings they must feel, and they think it is not they whom he means; such a drunkard, or such a notorious sinner, they think may possibly come to such a doleful end, but they little think that they are so near it themselves. We find in all our preaching, by sad experience, that it is one of the hardest things in the v/orld to bring a wicked man to know that he is wicked ; and a man who is posting in the way to hell, to know that he is in that way indeed; or to make a man see himself in a state of wrath and condemnation : yea, though the preacher do mark him out by such undoubted signs, which he cannot deny, yet he will not apply them, nor be brought to say, It is my case : though we show them the chapter and verse where it is written, " that without regeneration and holiness none shall see God ;" and though they know no such work that was ever wrought upon themselves; nay, though they might easily find by their strangeness to the new birth, and by their very enmity to holiness, that they were never partakers of them ; yet do they as verily expect to see God, and to be saved, as if they were the most sanctified persons in the world. It is a most difficult work to make a proud person know that he is proud, or a covetous man to know that he is covetous ; or an ignorant, or erroneous, heretical man to know himself to be such a one indeed; but to make any of these to confess the sin, and to apply the threatening, and to believe themselves the children of wrath, this is to human strength an impossibility. How seldom do you hear men, after the plainest discovery of their condemned estate, to cry out and say, I am the man ; or to acknowledge, that if they die in their present condition, they are undone for ever ! and yet Christ hath told us in his word, that the most of the world are in that estate ; yea, and the most of those that have the preaching of the gospel; " for many are called, but few are chosen." So that it is no wonder that the worst of men are not now troubled at their loss of heaven, and at their eternal misery; because, if we should convince them by the most undeniable arguments, yet we cannot bring them to acknowledge it: if we should preach to them as long as we live, we cannot make them believe that their danger is so great: except a man rise from the dead, and tell them of that place of torments, and tell them that their merry, jovial friends, who did as verily think to be saved as they, are now in hell in those flames, they will not believe. Nay, more, though such a messenger from the dead should appear, and speak to them, and warn them that they come not to that place of torments, and tell them, that such and such of their dear, beloved, worshipful, or honourable friends are now there destitute of a drop of water, yet would they not be persuaded by all this ; for Christ hath said so, " that if they will not hear Moses and the prophets.

neither will Ihey l)e persuaded though one bhould rise IVoui the dead," Luke xvi. lil.

There is no persuading them of their" misery till they feel it, except the Spirit f)f the Aliuighty persuade them.

Oh ! hut wlien they hud themselves suddenly in the land of darkness, perceive, hy the execution of the sentence, that they were indeed condemned, and feel themselves in the scorching flames, and see that they are shut out of the presence of God for ever, it it will then be no such difficult matter to convince them of their misery : this particular application of God's anger to themselves, will then be the easiest matter in the world; then they cannot choose but know and apply it, whether they will or no. If you come to a man that hath lost a leg, or an arm, or a child, or goods, or house, or his health, is it a hard matter to bring this man to ap-l)ly it, and to acknowledge that the loss is his own ? I think not. Why, it will be far more easy for the wicked in hell to apply their misery in the loss of heaven, because their loss is incomparably greater. Oh ! this application, which now, if we should die, we cannot get them to, for prevention of their loss, will then be part of their torment itself! Oh that they then could say. It is not my case ! but their dolorous voices will then roar out these forced confessions, Oh my misery ! oh my folly ! oh my unconceivable, irrecoverable loss !

Sect. IV. Again, as the imderstandings and consciences of sinners will be strengthened against them, so also will their affections be then more lively and enlarged than now they are ; as judgment will be no longer blinded, nor conscience stifled and bribed as now it is, so the affections will be no longer so stupified and dead. A hard heart now makes heaven and hell to seem but trifles : and when we have showed them everlasting glory and misery, they are as men half asleep, they scarce take notice what we say; our words are cast as stones against a hard Avail, which fly back in the face of him that casteth them, but make no impression at all where they fall. We talk of terrible, astonishing things, but it is to dead men that cannot apprehend it. We may rip up their wounds, and they never feel us : we speak to rocks, rather than to men; the earth will aS'soon tremble as they. Oh, but when these dead wa-etches are revived, what passionate sensibility, what working affections, what pangs of horror, what depth of sorrow, will there then be ! How violently will they fly in their own faces; how will they rage against their former madness ! The lamentations of the most passionate wife for the loss of her husband, or of the tenderest mother for the loss of her children, will be nothing to theirs for the loss of heaven. Oh the self-accusing and self-tormenting fury of those forlorn wretches ! How they will even tear their own hearts, and be God's executioner upon themselves ! I am persuaded, as it was none but themselves that committed the sin, and themselves that were the only meritorious cause of their sufferings, so themselves will be the chiefest executioners of those sufferings. God wUl have it for the clearing of his justice, and the aggravating of

their distress ; even Satan himself, as he was not so great a cause of their sinning as themselves, so will he not be so great an instrument as themselves of their torment. And let them not think here, that if they must torment themselves, they will do well enough, they shall have wit enough to ease and favour themselves, and resolution enough to command down this violence of their passions. Alas ! poor souls, they little know what passions those will be, and how much beyond the power of their resolutions to suppress ! Why have not lamenting, pining, self-consuming persons on earth, so much wit or power as this ? Why do you not thus persuade despairing souls, who lie, as Spira, in a kind of hell upon earth, and dare not eat, nor drink, nor be merry, but torment themselves with continual terrors ? Why do you not say to them, Sir, why will you be so mad as to be your own executioner ? and to make your own life a continual misery, which otherwise might be as joyful as other men's ? Cannot you turn your thoughts toother matters, and never think of heaven or hell ? Alas ! how vain are all these persuasions to him ; how little do they ease him ! You may as well persuade him to remove a mountain, as to remove these hellish thoughts that feed upon his spirit: it is as easy to him to stop the stream of the rivers, or to bound the overflowing waves of the ocean, as to stop the stream of his violent passions, or to restrain those sorrows that feed upon his soul. Oh how much less, then, can those condemned souls, who see the glory before them which they have lost, restrain their heart-rending, self-tormenting passions ! So some direct to cure the tooth-ache, Do not think of it, and it will not grieve you ; and so these men think to ease their pains in hell. Oh, but the loss and pain will make you think of it, whether you will or not. You were as stocks or stones under the threatenings, but you shall be most tenderly sensible under the execution. Oh how happy would you think yourselves then, if you were turned into rocks, or any thing that had neither passion nor sense ! Oh, now, how happy were you, if you could feel as lightly as you were wont to hear ! and if you could sleep out the time of execution, as you did the time of the sermons that warned you of it! But your stupidity is gone, it will not be.

Sect. V. Moreover, it will much increase the torment of the damned, in that their memories will be as large and strong as their understandings and affections, which will cause those violent passions to be still working. Were their loss never so great, and their sense of it never so passionate, yet if they could but lose the use of their memory, those passions would die, and that loss, being forgotten, would little trouble them. But as they cannot lay by their life and being, though then they would account annihilation a singular mercy ; so neither can they lay aside any part of that being. Understanding, conscience, affections, memory, must all live to torment them, which should have helped to their happiness. And as by these they should have fed upon the love of God, and drawn forth perpetually the joys of his presence ; so by these must they now feed upon the wrath of God, and draw forth continually

the dolours of hi.s absence : therefore never think, that when I .say the hardness of their hearts, and their blindness, dulness, and forget fulness, shall be removed, that, therefore, they are more holy or more happy than before; no, but morally more vile, and hert'by far more miserable. Oh how many hundred times did God by his messengers here call upon them, Sinners, consider whither you are a going ! Do but make a stand a while, and think where your way will end, what is the offered glory that you so carelessly reject: will not this be bitterness in the end ?

And yet these men w^ould never be brought to consider ; but in the latter days, fsaith the Lord, Jer. xxiii. 20,) they shall perfectly consider it; when they are insnared in the work of their own h;inds, Psal. ix. IG, when God hath arrested them, and judgment is passed upon them, and vengeance is poured out upon them to the full, then they cannot choose but consider it, whether they will or not. Now, they have no leisure to consider, nor any room in their memories for the things of another life. Ah ! but then they shall have leisure enough, they shall be where they have nothing else to do but consider it; their memories shall have no other employment to hinder them, it shall even be engraven upon the tables of their hearts, Deut. vi. 9. God w'ould have had the doctrine of their eternal state to have been written on the posts of their doors, on their houses, on their hands, and on their hearts : he would have had them mind it, and mention it, as they rise and lie down, as they sit at home, and as they walk abroad, that so it might have gone well with them at their latter end. And seeing they rejected this counsel of the Lord, therefore shall it be written always before them in the place of their thraldom, that which way soever they look, they may still behold it.

Among others, I will briefly lay down here some of those considerations which will thus feed the anguish of these damned wretches.

Sect. VL First: It will torment them to think of the greatness of the glory which they have lost. Oh, if it had been that which they could have spared, it had been a small matter; or if it had been a loss repairable with any thing else ; if it had been health, or wealth, or friends, or life, it had been nothing ; but to lose that exceeding, eternal weight of glory !

Sect. \ll. Secondly : It will torment them, also, to think of the possibility that once they were in of obtaining it. Though, all things considered, there was an impossibility of any other event than what did befall, yet the thing in itself was possible, and their will was left to act without constraint. Then they w ill remember, The time was, when I w as in as fair a possibility of the kingdom as others : I was set upon the stage of the world ; if I had played my part wisely and faithfully, now I might have had possession of the inheritance ; I might have been amongst yonder blessed saints, who am now tormented with these danmed fiends ! The Lord did set before me life and death, and having chosen death, I deserve to suffer it : the prize was once held out before me; if I had run

well, I might have obtained it; if I had striven, I might have had the mastery; if I had fought valiantly, I had been crowned.

Sect. VIII. Thirdly : It will yet more torment them to remember, not only the possibility, but the great probability that once they were in, to obtain the crown, and prevent the misery. It will then wound them to think. Why, I had once the gales of the Spirit ready to have assisted me. I was fully purposed to have been another man, to have cleaved to Christ, and to have forsaken the world; I was almost resolved to have been wholly for God; I was once even turning from my base, seducing lusts; I was purposed never to take them up again; 1 had even cast off my old companions, and was resolved to have associated myself with the godly; and yet I turned back, and lost my hold, and broke my promises, and slacked my purposes : almost God had persuaded me to be a real Christian, and yet I conquered those persuasions. What workings were in my heart, when a faithful minister pressed home the truth ! Oh how fair was I once for heaven ! I had almost had it, and yet I have lost it: if I had but followed on to seek the Lord, and brought those beginnings to maturity, and blown up the spark of desires and purposes which were kindled in me, I had now been blessed among the saints.

Thus will it wound them, to remember what hopes they once had, and hoAv a little more woukl have brought them over to Christ, and have set their feet in the way of peace.

Sect. IX. Fourthly: Furthermore, it will exceedingly torment them, to remember the fair opportunity that once they had, but now have lost; to look back upon an age spent in vanity, when his salvation lay at the stake ; to think how many weeks, and months, and years, did I lose, which, if I had improved, I might now have been happy ! Wretch that I was ! Could I find no time to study the work, for which I had all my time ? Had I no time among all my labours to labour for eternity ? Had I time to eat, and drink, and sleep, and work, and none to seek the saving of my soul ? Had I time for sports, and mirth, and vain discourse, and none for prayer, or meditation on the life to come ? Could I take time to look to my estate in the world, and none to try my title to heaven, and to make sure of my spiritual and everlasting state ? O pernicious time, whither art thou fled? 1 had once time enough, and now I must have no more ! I had so much, that I knew not what to do with it; I was fain to devise pastimes ; and to talk it away, and trifle it away; and now it is gone, and cannot be recalled ! Oh the golden hours that I did enjoy ! Had I spent bnt one year of all those years, or but one month of all those months, in thorough examination, and unfeigned conversion, and earnest seeking God with my whole heart, it had been happy for me that ever I was born; but now it is past, my days are cut off, my glass is run, my sun is set, and will rise no more. God himself did hold me the candle, that I might do his work, and I loitered till it was burnt out; and now fain would I have more, but cannot: oh that I had but one of these years to live over again! Oh that it were pos-

siblo to recall one day, one hour, of that time ! Oh that God would turn uie into the world, and try me once again, with another life-time! how speedily would I repent; how earnestly would I pray, and lie on my knees day and night; how diligently would I hear ; how cheerfully would 1 examine my spiritual estate ; how watchfully would I walk; how strictly would 1 live ! but it is now too late; alas ! too late ; I abused my time to vanity whilst I had it, and now nuist I sutler justly for that abuse.

Thus will the remembrance of the time which they lost on earth, be a continual torment to these condemned souls.

Sect. X. Fifthly : And yet more will it add to their calamity, to remember how often they were persuaded to return, both l)y the ministry in public and in private, by all their godly, faithful friends : every request and exhortation of the minister will now be as a fiery dart in his spirit; how fresh will every sermon come now into his mind! even those that he had forgotten as soon as he heard them. He even seems to hear still the voice of the minister, and to see his tears : Oh how fain would he have had me to have escaped these torments ! How earnestly did he entreat me ! With what love and tender compassion ditl he beseech me! How did his bowels yearn after me ! And yet I did but make a jest of it, and hardened my heart against all this. How often did he convince me that all was not well with me ! And yet I stifled all these convictions. How plainly did he rip up my sores, and open to me my very heart, and show me the unsoundness and deceitfulness of it! and yet I was loth to know the worst of myself, and therefore shut mine eyes, and would not see. Oh how glad would he have been, after all his study, and prayers, and pains, if he could but have seen me cordially entertain the truth, and turn to Christ! He would have thought himself well recompensed for all his labours and sufferings in his work, to have seen me converted and made happy by it. And did I withstand and make light of all this ? Should any have been more willing of my happiness than myself!" Had not I more cause to desire it than he ? Did it not more nearly concern me? It was not he, but I, that was to suffer for my obstinacy. He would have laid his hands under my feet, to have done me good; he would have fallen down to me upon his knees to have begged my obedience to his message, if that would have prevailed with my hardened heart. Oh how deservedly do I now suffer these flames, who was so forewarned of them, and so tntreated to escape them ! nay, my friends, my parents, my godly neighbours, did admonish and exhort me ; they told me what would come of my wilfulness and negligence at last, but 1 did never believe them, nor regard them. Magistrates were fain to restrain me from sinning, by law and punishment. Was not the foresight of this misery sufficient to restrain me {

Thus will the remembrance of all the means that ever they enjoyed, be fuel to feed the flames in their consciences. Oh that sinners would but think of this, when they sit under the plain instruction and pressing exhortations of a faithful ministry ! How

dear must they pay for all this, if it do not prevail with them ! And how they will wish a thousand times, in the anguish of their souls, that they had either obeyed his doctrine, or had never heard him ! The melting words of exhortation which they were wont to hear, will be hot burning words to their hearts upon this sad review. It cost the minister dear, even his daily study, his earnest prayers, his compassionate sorrows for their misery, his care, his sufferings, his ' spendings, weakening, killing pains; but, oh! how much dearer will it cost these rebellious sinners! His lost tears will cost them blood, his lost sighs will cost them eternal groans, and his lost exhortations will cause their eternal lamentations. For Christ hath said it, " that if any city or people receive not, or welcome not, the gospel, the very dust of the messenger's feet who lost his travel to bring them that glad tidings, shall witness against them; much more, his greater pains. And it shall be easier for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than for that city," Matt, xix. 14—16. That Sodom which was the shame of the w^orld for unnatural wickedness, the disgrace of mankind, that would have committed wickedness with the angels from heaven, that were not ashamed to prosecute their villany in the open street; that proceeded in their rage against Lot's admonitions, yea, under the very miraculous judgment of God, and groped for the door when they were stricken blind: that Sodom which was consumed with fire from heaven, and turned to that deadly sea of waters, and suffers the vengeance of eternal fire, Jude 7 ; even that Sodom shall escape better in the day of judgment, than the neglecters of this so great salvation, Heb. ii. 3. It will somewhat abate the heat of their torment, that they had not those full and plain offers of grace, nor those constant sermons, nor pressing persuasions, nor clear convictions, as those under the sound of the gospel have had. I beseech thee who readest these words, stay here awhile, and sadly think of what I say; I profess to thee from the Lord, it is easier thinking of it now than it will be then. What a doleful aggravation of thy misery would this be, that the food of thy soul should prove thy bane ! and that that should feed thy everlasting torment, which is sent to save thee, and prevent thy torments !

Sect. XI. Sixthly : Yet further, it will much add to the torment of the wretches, to remember that God himself did condescend to entreat them, that all the entreatings of the minister were the en-treatings of God. How long he did wait, how freely he did offer, how lovingly he did invite, and how importunately he did solicit them ! How the Spirit did continue striving with their hearts, as if he were loth to take a denial! How Christ stood knocking at the door of their hearts, sermon after sermon, and one sabbath after another, crying out, " Open, sinner, open thy heart to the Saviour, and I will come in, and sup with thee, and thou with me," Rev. iii. 20. Why, sinner, are thy lusts and carnal pleasures better than I .'' Are thy worldly commodities better than my everlasting kingdom ? Why, then, dost thou resist me ? Why dost thou thus delay ? What dost thou mean, that thou dost not open to me ?

How long shall it be till thou attain to innocency ? I Tow long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thoo .'' Woe to thee, O unworthy sinner ! Wilt thou not be made clean/ Wilt thou not be pardoned, and sanctified, and made happy ? When shall it once he! Oh that thou wouldst hearken to my word, and obey my gospel! (Psal, Ixxxi. 13, 14; Isa. xlviii. 17, 18; i. 18; Deut. xxxii. 29 ; Eccles. xii. 1.) Then should thy peace be as the river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea ; though thy sins were as red as the crimson or scarlet, I would make them as white as the snow or wool. Oh that thou wert but wise to consider this; and that thou wouldst in time remember thy latter end, before the evil days come upon thee, and the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say of all thy vain delights, I have no pleasure in them! Why, sinner, shall thy Maker thus bespeak thee in vain ? Shall the God of all the world beseech thee to be happy, and beseech thee to have pity upon thine own soul, and wilt thou not regard him ? Why did he make thy ears, but to hear his voice ? Why did he make thy understanding, but to consider? or thy heart, but to entertain the Son in obediential love ? " Thus saith the Lord of hosts. Consider thy ways," Hag. i, 5.

Oh how all these passionate pleadings of Christ will passionately transport the damned with self-indignation, that they will be ready to tear out their own hearts ! How fresh will the remembrance of them be still in their minds, lancing their souls with renewed torments ! ^^ hat self-condemning pangs will it raise within them, to remember how often Christ would have gathered them to himself, even as the hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but they would not! Matt, xxiii. 37. Then will they cry out against themselves. Oh how justly is all this befallen me ! Must 1 tire out the patience of Christ i Must I make the God of heaven to follow me in vain, from home to the assembly, from thence to my chamber, from ale-house to ale-house, till I had wearied him with crying to me, Repent, return.' Must the Lord of all the world thus wait upon me, and all in vain ? Oh how justly is that patience now turned into fury, which falls upon my soul with irresistible violence! When the Lord cried out to me, in his word, How long will it be before thou wilt be made clean and holy ? my heart, or at least my practice, answered, Never, I will never be so precise. And now when I cry out, How long will it be till I be freed from this torment, and saved with the saint .'' how justly do I receive the answer. Never, never! O sinner, I beseech thee for thy own sake, think of this for prevention while the voice of mercy soundeth in thine ears ! Yet patience continueth waiting upon thee ; canst thou think it will do so still ! Yet the offers of Christ and life are mnde to thee in the gospel, and the hand of God is stretched out to thee ; but will it still be thus ? The Spirit hath not yet done striving with thy heart ; but dost thou know how soon he may turn away, and give thee over to a reprobate sense, and let thee perish in the stubbornness and hardness of thy heart ? Thou hast yet life, and time, and strength, and means, but dost thou think this life will

always last !* " Oh ! seek the Lord while he may be found, and call upon hiui while he is near," Isa. Iv. G, 7. He that hath an ear to hear, let him hear what Christ now speaketh to his soul. Rev. ii. and iii. And to-day, while it is called to-day, harden not your hearts, lest he swear in his wrath that you shall never enter into his rest, Heh. iii. 8,11,15. For ever blessed is he that hath a hearing heart and ear, while Christ hath a calling voice.

Sect. XII. Seventhly: Again, it will be a most cutting consideration to these damned sinners, to remember on what easy terms they might have escaped their misery, and on what easy conditions the crown Avas tendered to them. If their work had been to remove mountains, to conquer kingdoms, to fulfil the law to the smallest tittle, then the impossibility would somewhat assuage the rage of their self-accusing conscience ; if their conditions for heaven had been the satisfying of justice for all their transgressions, the suifering of all that the law did lay upon them, or bearing the burden which Christ was fain to bear, why this were nothing but to suffer hell to escape hell: but their conditions were of another nature ; the yoke was light, and the l^urden was easy, which Jesus Christ would have laid upon them ; his commandments were not grievous. Matt. xi. 28, 29; 1 John v. 3. It was but to repent of their former transgressions, and cordially to accept him for their Saviour and their Lord; to study his will, and seek his face; to renounce all other happiness but that which he procureth us, and to take the Lord alone for our supreme good; to renounce the government of the v/orld and the flesh, and to submit to his meek and gracious government; to forsake the ways of our own devising, and to walk in his holy, delightful way ; to engage ourselves to this by covenant with him, and to continue faithful in that covenant: these were the terms on which they might have enjoyed the kingdom ; and was there any thing unreasonable in all this, or had they any thing to object against it ? Was it a hard bargain to have heaven upon these conditions, v/hen all the price that is required is only our accepting it in that way that the wisdom of our Lord thinks meet to bestow it ? And for their want of ability to perform this, it consisteth chiefly in their want of will. If they were but willing, they should find that God would not be backward to assist them : if they be willing, Christ is much more willing.

Oh when the poor tormented wretch shall look back upon these easy terms which he refused, and compare the labour of them v/ith the pains and loss which he there sustaineth, it cannot be now conceived how it will rent his very heart. Ah ! thinks he, how justly do I suffer all this, who would not-be at so small a cost and pains to avoid it! Where was my understanding when I neglected that gracious offer ? when I called the Lord a hard Master ! and thought his pleasant service to be a bondage, and the service of the devil and my flesh, to be the only delight and freedom ? Was I not a thousand times worse than mad, when I censured the holy way of God, as needless prcciscness, and cried out on it as an intolerable burden '{ when I thought the laws of Christ too strict, and all too

much that I did for the life to come .'' Oh! what had all tiio trouhli; oT duty been in comparison of the trouble that 1 now sustain; or all the sufferings for Ciirist and well-doing, in comparison of these sufferings that I nmst undergo for ever ! What if I had spent my days in the strictest life that ever did saint; what if I had lived still upon my knees; what if I had lost my credit with men, and been hated of all men for the sake of Christ, and borne the reproach and scorn of the foolish ; what if I had been imprisoned, or banished, or put to death ; oh ! whatliad all this been to the miseries that I now nuist suffer! Tlien had my sufferings now been all over, whereas they do but now begin, but will never end. AA'ould not the heaven whicli 1 have lost, have recompensed all my losses; and should not all my sufferings have been there forgotten { What if Christ had bid me do some great matter, as to live in continual tears and sorrow, to sulfer death a hundred times over, which yet he did not, should I not have done it;" How much more when he said but, Believe and be saved ; seek my face, and thy soul shall live ; love me above all, walk in my sweet and holy way, take up thy cross and follow me, and I will save thee from the wrath of God, and I will give thee everlasting life ! Oh gracious offer ! Oh easy terms! Oh cursed wretch, that would not be persuaded to accept them !

Sect. XIII. Eighthly : Furthermore, this also will be a most tormenting consideration, to remember v;hat they sold their eternal welfare for, and what it was that they had for heaven. When they compare the value of the pleasures of sin with the value of the recompence of reward, which they forsake for those pleasures, how will the vast disproportion astonish them ! To think of a few merry hours, a few pleasant cups or sweet morsels, a little ease or low delight to the llesh, the applauding In-eath of the mouth of mortal men, or the possession of so much gold on earth, and then to think of the everlasting glory; what a vast difference between them Mill then appear ! To think this is all I had for my soul, my God, my hopes of blessedness, it cannot possibly be expressed how these thoughts will tear his very heart! Then will he exclaim against his folly, Oh ! deservedly miserable wretch, did I set my soul to sale at so base a price; did I part with my God for a little dirt and dross, and sell my Saviour, as Judas, for a little silver! Oh, for how small a matter have I parted with my happiness ! I had but a dream of delight for my hopes of heaven; and now I am awaked, it is all vanished ! Where are now my honours and attendance ? Wlio doth applaud me, or trumpet out my praises { Where is the cap and knee that was wont to do me revei'ence ? My morsels are now turned to gall, and my cups to wormwood. They delighted me no longer than while they were passing down; when they were past my taste, the pleasure perished; and is this all that I have had for the inestimable treasure ? Oh what a mad exchange did I make ! What if I had gained all the world, and lost my soul, would it have been a saving match { But, alas ! how small a part of the world was it for which I gave up my part in glory! Oh

that sinners would forethink of this when they are swimming in delights of flesh, and studying to be rich and honourable in the world ; when they are desperately venturing upon known transgression, and sinning against the checks of conscience !

Sect. XIV. Ninthly : Yet much more will it add unto their torment, when they consider that all this was their own doings, and that they, most wilfully, did procure their own destruction. Had they been forced to sin whether they would or not, it would much abate the rage of their consciences ; or if they were punished for another man's transgressions, or if any other had been the chiefest author of their ruin : but to think that it was the choice of their own wills, and that God had set them in so free a condition that none in the world could have forced them to sin against their wills; this will be a griping thought to their hearts. What! thinks this wretched creature, had I not enemies enough in the world, but I must be enemy to myself? God would neither give the devil nor the world so much power over me as to force me to commit the least transgression. If I had not consented, their temptations had been in vain : they could but entice me; it was myself that yielded ; and that did the evil: and must I needs lay hands upon my own soul, and imbrue my hands in my own blood ? Who should pity me, who pitied not myself, and who brought all this upon mine own head ? When the enemies of Christ did pull down his word and laws, his ministry and worship, the news of it did rejoice me ; when they set up seducing or ungodly ministers, instead of the faithful preachers of the gospel, I was glad to have it so; when the minister told me the evil of my ways, and the dangerous state that my soul was in, I took him for my enemy, and his preaching did stir up my hatred against him, and every sermon did cut me to the heart, and I was ready to gnash my teeth in indignation against him. Never was I willing of the means of mine own welfare ; never had I so great an enemy as myself; never did God do me any good, or offer me any for the welfare of my soul, but I resisted him, and was utterly unwilling of it. He hath heaped mercy upon me, and renewed one deliverance after another, and all to entice my heart unto him, and yet was I never heartily willing to serve him : he hath gently chastised me, and made me groan under the fruit of my disobedience ; and yet, though I promised largely in my affliction, I was never unfeignedly willing to obey him. Never did a good magistrate attempt a reformation, but I was against it; nor a good minister labour the saving of the flock, but I was ready to hinder as much as I could; nor a good Christian labour to save his soul, but I was ready to discourage and hinder him to my power; as if it were not enough to perish alone, but I must draw all others to the same destruction. Oh, what cause hath my wife, my children, my servants, my neighbours, to curse the day that ever they saw me ! As if I had been made to resist God, and to destroy my own and other men's souls, so have I madly behaved myself! Thus will it gnaw upon the hearts of these wretches, to remember that they were the cause of their own undoing; and that they wilfully and obstinately

persisted in their rebellion, and wore mere volunteers in the service of the dovil. They would venture ; they would go on ; they w'ould not hoar him that spoke against it: God called to them to hear and stay, hut they would not; men called, conscience called, and said to them, as Pilate's wife. Matt. xvii. 19, " Have nothing to do with that hateful sin, for I have suffered many things because of it;" hut thoy would not hoar : their will was their law, their rule, and their ruin.

Sect. XV. Tenthly, and lastly : It will yet make the wound in their consciences much deeper, when they shall remember that it was not only their own doing, but that they were at so nmch cost and pains for their own damnation. What great undertakings did they engage in for to eftect their ruin ! to resist God, to conquer the Spirit, to overcome the power of mercies, judgments, and the word itself, to silence conscience ; all this they did take upon them, and perform. What a number of sins did they manage at once ! What difficulties did they set upon ! even the conquering the power of reason itself. ^^ hat dangers did they adventure on ! Though thoy walked in continual danger of the wrath of God, and knew he could lay them in the dust in a moment ; though they knew they lived in danger of eternal perdition; yet would they run upon all this. What did they forsake for the service of Satan, and the pleasures of sin ? They forsook their God, their conscience, their best friends, their eternal hopes of salvation, and all. They that could not toll how to forsake a lust, or a little honour or ease, for Christ, yet can lose their souls ; and all for sin ! Oh the labour that it costeth poor wretches to be damned ! Sobriety they might have at a cheaper rate, and a great deal of health and ease to boot; and yet they will rather have gluttony and drunkenness, with poverty, and shame, and sickness, and belchings, and vomitings, with the outcries and lamentations of wife and children, and conscience itself. Contentedness they might have with case and delight, yet will they rather have covetousness and ambition, though it cost them study, and care, and fears, and labour of body and mind, and a continual unquietness and distraction of spirit, and usually a shameful overthrow at the last. Though their anger be nothing but a tormenting themselves, and revenge and envy do consume their spirits, and keep them upon a continual rack of disquiet; though uncleanness destroy their bodies, and estates, and names ; and though they are foretold of the hazard of their eternal happiness; yet will they do and suffer all this, rather than suffer their souls to be saved. How fast runs Gehazi for his leprosy ! \Miat cost and pains is Nimrod at, to purchase a universal confusion ! How doth an amorous Amnon pine himself away for a self-destroying lust! How studiously and painfully doth Absalom seek a hanging ! Ahithophel's reputation and his life must go together. Even when they are struck blind by a judgment of God, yet how painfully do the Sodomites grope and weary themselves to find the door! Gen. xix. 11. What cost and pains are the idolatrous papists at, for

Q

their multifarious will-worship ! How unweariedly and unreservedly have the enemies of the gospel put out the light that should guide them to heaven, and how earnestly do they si ill prosecute it to the last! How do the nations generally rage, and the people imagine a vain thing ! the kings of the earth setting themselves, and the rulers taking counsel together, against the Lord, and against his Christ; that they may break the bonds of his laws asunder, and cast away the cords of his government from them ; though he that sitteth in heaven do laugh them to scorn, though the Lord have them in derision ; though he speak to them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure, and resolve that yet in despite of them all, he will set his King upon his holy hill of Sion, yet will they spend and tire out themselves as long as they are able to stir against the Lord. Oh how the reviews of this will feed the flames in hell! With what rage will these danmed wretches curse themselves, and say, Was damnation worth all my cost and pains ? was it not enough that I perished through my negligence, and that I sat still while Satan played his game, but I must seek so diligently for my own perdition ? Might I not have been damned on free cost, but I must purchase it so dearly { I thought I could have been saved without so much ado ; and could I not have been destroyed without so much ado ? How well is all my care, and pains, and violence, now requited ! Must I work out so laboriously my own damnation, when God commanded me to work out my salvation ? Oh ! if I had clone as much for heaven as I did for hell, I had surely had it! I cried out of the tedious way of godliness, and of the painful course of duty and self-denial; and yet I could be at a great deal more pains for Satan, and for death. If I had loved Christ as strongly as I did my pleasures, and profits, and honours, and thought on him as often, and sought him as painfully, oh how happy had I now been! But justly do I suffer the flames of hell, who would rather buy them so dear, than have heaven on free cost, when it was purchased to my hands.

Thus I have showed you some of those thoughts which will aggravate the misery of these wretches for ever. Oh that God would persuade thee, who readest these words, to take up these thoughts now seasonably and soberly, for the preventing of that unconceivable calamity, that so thou mayst not be forced, in despite of thee, to take them up in hell as thy own tormentor.

It may be some of these hardened wretches will jest at all this, and say. How know you what thoughts the damned in hell will have ?

Answ. First: Why read but the 16th of Luke, and you shall there find some of their thoughts mentioned.

Secondly : I know their understandings will not be taken from them, nor their conscience, nor passions. As the joys of heaven are chiefly enjoyed by the rational soul, in its rational actions, so also must the pains of hell be suffered. As they will be men still, .so will they act as men.

Tliirdly : Besides, Scripture hath plainly foretold us as much, that their own thoughts shall accus(> them, Kom. ii. 15, and their hearts condemn them, 1 John iii. lU—21 ; and we see it hegun in despairing persons here.

CHAPTER III.

THEY SHALL LOSE ALL THINGS THAT AUK CO^fFORTABLE, AS WELL AS HEAVEN.

Sect. I. Having showed you those considerations which will then aggravate their misery, I am noxt to show you their additional losses which will aggravate it. For as godliness hath the promise both of this life and that which is to come, and as God hath said, " that if we first seek his kingdom and righteousness, all things else shall be addfd to us ;" so also are the ungodly threatened with the loss both of spiritual and of corporal blessings ; and because they sought not first Christ's kingdom and righteousness, therefore shall they lose both it and that which they did seek, and there shall be taken from them even that little which they have. If they could but have kept their present enjoyments, they would not have much cared for the loss of heaven, let them take it that have more mind of it : but catching at the shadowy and losing the substance, they now find that they have lost both ; and that when they rejected Christ, they rejected all things. If they had lost and forsaken all for Christ, they would have found all again in him, for he would have been all in all to them ; but now they have forsaken Christ for other things, they shall lose Christ, and that also for which they did forsake him.

But I will particularly open to you some of their other losses.

Sect. II. First : They .shall lose their present presumptuous conceit and belief of their interest in God, and of his favour tow^ards them, and of their part in the merits and sufferings of Christ. This false belief doth now^ support their spirits, and defend them from the terrors that would else seize upon them, and fortify them against the fears of the wrath to come. Even as true faith doth afford the soul a true and grounded support and consolation, and enableth us to look to eternity with undaunted courage ; so also a false, ungrounded faith doth afford a false, ungrounded comfort, and abates the trouble of the considerations of judgment and damnation. But, alas ! this is but a palliate salve, a deceitful comfort: what will ease their trouble when this is gone ? ^^ hen they can believe no longer, they will be quieted in mind no longer, and rejoice no longer. If a man be near to the greatest mischief, and yet strongly conceit that he is in safety, his conceit may make him as cheerful as if all were well indeed, till his misery comes, and then both his conceit and comforts vanish. An ungrounded persuasion Q 2

::>28 THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. Part HI.

of happiness, is a poor cure for real misery. When the mischief comes, it will cure the misbelief; hut that belief can neither prevent nor cure the mischief. If there were no more to make a man happy, but to believe he is so, or shall be so, happiness would be far commoner than now it is like to be. It is a wonder that any man who is not a stranger both to gospel and reason, should be of the Antinomian faith in this ; who tell us, that faith is but the believing that God loveth us, and that our sins are already pardoned through Christ; that this is the chief thing that ministers should preach; that our ministers preach not Christ, because they preach not this; that every man ought thus to believe, but no man to question this faith, whether he believe truly or not, &c. But if all men must believe that their sins are pardoned, then most of the world must believe a lie ; and if no man ought to question the truth of his faith, then most men shall rest cleluded with an ungrounded belief. The Scripture commandeth us first to believe for a remission of sins, before we believe that our sins are remitted. If we believe in Christ, that is, accept him cordially for our Saviour and our King, then we shall receive the pardon of sins. The truth is, we have more ado to preach down this Antinomian faith, than they have to preach it up ; and to preach our people from such a believing, than they have to preach them to it. I see no need to persuade people to believe ; the generality are strong and confident in such a belief already. Take a congregation of five thousand persons, and how few among them all will you find, that do not believe that their sins are pardoned, and that God loves them; especially of the vilest sinners, who have least cause to believe it! Indeed, as it is all the work of those men to persuade people to this belief, so it is the hardest task almost that we meet with, to convince men of the ungroundedness of this belief, and to break that peace which Satan maintaineth in their souls. Neither do I know a commoner <;ause of men's destruction, than such a misbelief. Who will seek for that which he believes he hath already ? This is the great engine of hell, to ifiake men go merrily to their own perdition. I know men cannot believe Christ, or believe in or upon Christ, either too soon or too much. But they may believe or judge that themselves are pardoned, adopted, and in favour with God, too soon, and too much; for a false judgment is always too much and too soon. As true, grounded faith is the master-grace in the regenerate, and of the greatest use in the kingdom of Christ; so is false, ungrounded faith the master-vice in the unregenerate soul, and of greatest use in the kingdom of Satan. Why do such a multitude sit still, when they might have pardon for the seeking, but that they verily think they are pardoned already ? Why do men live so contentedly in the power of the devil, and walk so carelessly in the certain way to hell; but that they think their way will have no such end, and that the devil hath nothing to do with them ? They defy him, they spit at the mention of his name. If you could ask so many thousands as are now in hell. What madness could cause you to come hither voluntarily, or to follow Satan to this place of

torment, when you might follow Christ to the land of rest ? they would most of them answer you, We believed that we had followed towards salvation ; and that the way which we were in would have brought us to heaven. We made sure account of being saved, till we found ourselves damned; and never feared hell, till we were suddenly in it. We would have renounced our sinful courses and companions, but that we thought we might have them and heaven too. We would have sought after Christ more heartily, but that we thought we had part in him already. We would have been more earnest seekers of regeneration, and the power of godliness, but that we verily thought we were Christians befoi-e. Oh ! if we had known as nmch as now we know, what lives would we have led, what persons would w^e have been ! But we have flattered ourselves into these insufferable torments, ^^e were told of this before, from the word of God, but we would not believe it till we felt it; and now there is no remedy. Reader, do but stop, and think here with thyself, how sad a case is this, that men should so resolutely cheat themselves of their everlasting rest ! The Lord grant it never prove thy own case ! I would be very loth to weaken the true faith of the meanest Christian, or to persuade any man that his faith is false, when it is true : God forbid that I should so disparage that precious grace which hath the stamp of the Spirit; or so trouble the soul, that Christ would have to be comforted! But I must needs in faithfulness tell thee that the confident belief of their good estate, and of the pardon of their sins, which the careless, unholy, unhumbled multitude among us do so commonly boast of, will prove, in the end, but a soul-damning delusion. It hath made me ready to tremble many a time, to hear a drunken, ungodly, unfaithful minister, as confidently in his formal prayers in the pulpit, give God thanks for vocation, justification, sanctifica-tion, and assured hope of glorification, as if he had been a most assured saint; when, it may be, his sermon was intended to reproach the saint, and to jeer at sanctification ! Methought I even heard the Pharisee say, I thank thee that I am not as other men, Luke xviii. 11; or Korah, Are not all the people holy, every one '( Numb. xvi. 3, 5. How commonly do men thank God for these, which they never received, nor ever shall do ! How many have thanked God for pardon of sin, who are now tormented for it; and for sanctification, and assured hope of glory, who are now shut out of that inheritance of the sanctified ! I warrant you, there is none of this believing in hell; nor any persuasions of pardon or happiness, nor any boasting of their honesty, nor justifying of themselves. This was but Satan's stratagem, that being blindfold they might follow him the more boldly; but then he will uncover their eyes, and they shall see where they are.

Sect. HL Secondly: Another addition to the misery of the damned will be this; that with the loss of heaven, they shall lose also all their hopes. In this life, though they were threatened with the wrath of God, yet their hope of escaping it did bear up their hearts. And when they were wounded with the terrors of the

word, they licked all whole again with their groundless hopes ; hut then they shall part with their hopes and heaven together. We can now scarce speak with the vilest drunkard, or swearer, or covetous worldling, or scorner at godliness, hut he hopes to he saved for all this. If you should go to all the congregation, or town, or country, and ask them one by one, whether they hope to be saved, how few shall you meet with that will not say yea, or that make any great question of it! But, oh ! happy world, if salvation were as common as this hope; even those whose hellish nature is written in the face of their conversation, that he that runs may read it, whose tongues plead the cause of the devil and speak the language of hell, and whose delight is in nothing but the works of the flesh; yet these do strongly hope for heaven, though the God of heaven hath told them over and over again in his word, that no such as they shall ever come there. Though most of the world shall eternally perish, and the Judge of the world himself hath told us, that of the many that are called yet but few are chosen, yet almost all do hope for it, and cannot endure any man that doth but question their hopes. Let but their minister preach against their false hopes, or their best friend come to them and say, I am afraid your present hopes of heaven will deceive you ; I see you mind not your soul, your heart is not set upon Christ and heaven, you do not so much as pray to God, and worship him in your family; and the Scripture gives you not the least hope of being saved in such a condition as this is ; how ill would they take such an admonition as this, and bid the admonisher look to himself, and let them alone, he should not answer for them ; they hope to be saved, as soon as these preciser men, that pray and talk of heaven so much: nay, so strong are these men's hopes, that they will dispute the cause with Christ himself at judgment, and plead their eating and drinking in his presence, their preaching in his name, and casting out devils (and these are more probable arguments than our baptism, and common profession, and name of Christians); they will stiffly deny that ever they neglected Christ in hunger, nakedness, prison, &c. (and if they did, yet that is less than stripping, imprisoning, banishing, or killing Christ in his members,) till Christ confute them with the sentence of their condemnation ! Though the heart of their hopes will be broken at their death, and particular judgment, yet it seems they would fain plead for such hope at the general judgment. But oh the sad state of these men, when they must bid farewell to all their hopes, when their hopes shall all perish with them ! Reader, if thou wilt not believe this, it is because thou wilt not believe the Scriptures. The Holy Ghost hath spoken it as plain as can be spoken: " When a wicked man dieth, his expectation shall perish, and the hope of unjust men perisheth," Prov. xi. 17. " The hope of the righteous shall be gladness, but the expectation of the wicked shall perish," Prov. x. 28. See Isa. xxviii. 15, IS. " For what is the hope of the hypocrite, though he hath gained, when God taketh away his soul? Will God hear his cry when trouble coraeth upon him?"

CiiAi'. ill. THE SAINTS' EVERLAST1N(J REST. w;il

Job xxvii. 8, <J. "Can the rush grow up without niiro? can the Hag grow without water ^ ^^ hilst it is yet in its greeinioss, not cut down, it witheroth before any other herb. So are the paths of all that forget (iod; and the hypocrite's hope shall perish: whose hope? shall be cut oil", and whose trust shall be a spider's web. Me shall lean upon his house, but it shall not stand: he shall hold it fast, but it shall not endure," Job viii. 11—15. " But the eyes of the wicked shall fail, and they shall not escape, and their hope shall l)e as the giving up of the ghost," Job xi. 20. The giving up of the ghost is a fit but terrible resemblance of a wicked man's giving up of his hopes. For, First, As the soul departeth not from the body without the greatest terror and pain, so also doth the hope of the wicked depart. Oh the direful gripes and pangs of horror that seize upon the soul of the sinner at death and judgment, when he is parting with all his former hopes ! Secondly, The soul departeth from the body suddenly, in a moment, which hath there delightfully continued so many years ; just so doth the hope of the wicked depart. 'I'hirdly, The soul which then departeth, will never return to live with the body in this world any more ; and the hope of the wicked when it departeth, taketh an everlasting farewell of his soul. A miracle of resurrection shall again conjoin the soul and body, but th(n-e shall be no such miraculous resurrection of the damned's hope. Methinks it is the most doleful spectacle that this world affords, to see an ungodly person dying, and to think of his soul and hopes departing together ; and with what a sad change he presently appears in another world. Then, if a man could but speak with that hopeless soul, and ask it; What! are you now as confident of salvation as you were wont to be ; do you now hope to be saved as soon as the most godly .'' Oh what a sad answer would he return! They are just like Korah, Dathan, and their companions : while they are confident in their rebellion against the Lord, and cry out, "Are not all the people holy { " they are suddenly swallowed up, and their hopes with them : or like Ahab, who hating and imprisoning the prophet for foretelling his danger, while he is in confident hopes to return in peace, is suddenly smitten with that mortal arrow, which let out those hopes, together with his soul: or like a thief upon the gallows, who hath a strong conceit that he shall receive a pardon, and so hopes and hopes, till the ladder is turned : or like the unbelieving sinners of the world before the flood, who would not believe the threatening of Noah, but perhaps derided him for preparing his ark so many years together, when no danger appeared, till suddenly the flood came and swept them all away. If a man had asked these men, when they were climbing up into the tops of trees and mountains : Where is now your hope of escaping, or your merry deriding at the painful preventing preparations of godly Noah ; or your contemptuous unbelief of the warnings of God ? what do you think these men would then say, when the waters still pursued them from place to place, till it devoured their hopes and them together? Or if one had asked Ahab, when he had received his wound, and turned out of the battle to die; What think you now of the pro-

phecy of Micaiah ; will you release him out of prison ; do you now hope to return in peace ? Why, such a sudden overthrow of their hopes will every unregenerate sinner receive. While they were upon earth, they frustrated the expectations, as I may say, of God and man. God sent his messengers to tell them plainly of their danger, and said. It may be they will hear, and return and escape; but they stiffened their necks and hardened their hearts: the minister studied, and instructed, and persuaded them in hope ; and when one sermon prevailed not, he laboured to speak more plainly and piercingly in the next, in hope that at last they would be persuaded and return; till their hopes were frustrate, and their labour lost, and they vv'ere fain to turn their exhortation to lamentation, and to sit down in sorrow for men's wilful misery; and take up the sad exclamation of the prophet, " Who hath believed our report; and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ?" Isa. liii. 1 : so did godly parents also instruct their children in hope, and watch over them, and pray for them, hoping that at last their hearts would turn to Christ. And is it not meet that God should frustrate all their hopes, who have frustrated the hopes of all that desired their welfare ? Oh that careless sinners would be awaked to think of this in time ! If thou be one of them, who art reading these lines, I do here as a friend advise thee, from the word of the Lord, that, as thou wouldst not have all thy hopes deceive thee, when thou hast most need of them, thou presently try them, whether they will prove current at the touchstone of the Scripture; and if thou find them unsound, let them go, whatsoever sorrow they cost thee. Rest not till thou canst give a reason of all thy hopes, 1 Pet. iii. 15 ; JMarks of sound till thou canst prove that they are the hopes which hopes. grace and not nature only hath wrought; that

they are grounded upon Scripture promises and sound evidences; that they purify thy heart ; that they quicken, and not cool, thy endeavours in godliness ; that the more thou hopest, the less thou sinnest, and the more painful thou art in following on the work, and not grown more loose and careless by the increasing of thy hopes; and they make thee set lighter by all things on earth, because thou hast such hopes of higher possessions; that thou art willing to have them tried, and fearful of being deceived ; that they stir up thy desires of enjoying what thou hopest for, and the deferring thereof is the trouble of thy heart, Prov. xiii. 12. If thou be sure that thy hopes be such as these, God forbid that I should speak a word against them, or discourage thee from proceeding to hope thus to the end. No, I rather persuade thee to go on in the strength of the Lord ; and whatever men or devils, or thy own unbelieving heart, shall say against it, go on and hold fast thy hope, and be sure it shall never make thee ashamed. But if thy hope be not of this spiritual nature, and if thou art able to give no better reason why thou hopest, than the worst in the world may give, that God is merciful, and thou must speed as well as thou canst, or the like; and hast not one sound evidence of a saving worli of grace upon thy soul, to show for thy hopes ; but only

hopost that thou shalt ])e savod, because thou wouldst have it so, and because it is a terrible thing to despair: if this be thy case, delay not an hdur ; but presently cast away those hopes, that thou niayst get into a capacity of having bettor in their stead. Hut it may be thou wilt think this strange doctrine, and say, What, would you persuade me directly to despair ? Anstv. Sinner, I would be loth to have thy soul destroyed by wilful self-delusion. The truth is, there is a hope, such as I have before showed thee, which is a singular grace and duty ; and there is a hope which is a notorious, dangerous sin. So, consequently, there is a despair which is a grievous sin ; and there is a despair which is absolutely necessary to thy salvation. I would not have thee despair of the sufficiency of the blood of C-'hrist to save thee, if thou believe, and heartily obey him ; nor of the willingness of God to pardon and save thee, if thou be such a one ; nor yet absolutely of thy own salvation ; because, while there is life and time, there is some hope of thy conversion, and so of thy salvation : nor would I draw thee to despair of finding Christ, if thou do but heartily seek him ; nor of God's acceptance of any sincere endeavours ; nor of thy success against Satan, or any corruption which thou shalt heartily oppose ; nor of any thing whatsoever God hath promised to do, either to all men in general, or to such as thou art. I would not have thee doubt of any of these in the least measure, much less despair. But this is the despair that I would persuade thee to, as thou lovest thy soul : that thou despair of ever being saved, except thou be born again; or of seeing God, without holiness; or of escaping perishing, except thou soundly repent; or of ever having part in Christ, or salvation by him, or ever being one of his true disciples, except thou love him above father, mother, or thy own life; or of ever having a treasure in heaven, except thy very heart be there ; or of ever escaping eternal death, if thou walk after the flesh, and dost not by the Spirit mortify the deeds of the flesh; or of ever truly loving God, or being his servant, while thou lovest the world, and servest it (John iii. 5; Heb. xii. 14; Luke xiv. 25—21, Sec.; xv. 3, 4; xvi. 23 ; Matt. vi. II; Rom. viii. 13; 1 John ii. 15). These things I would have thee despair of, and whatever else God hath told thee shall never come to pass. And when thou hast sadly searched into thy own heart, and findost thyself in any of these cases, I would have thee despair of thyself of ever being saved in that state thou art in. Never stick at the sadness of the conclusion, man, but acknowledge plainly, If I die before I got out of this estate, I am lost for ever. It is as good deal truly with thyself as not; God will not flatter thee, he will deal plainly whether thou do or not. The very truth is, this kind of despair is one of the first steps to heaven. Consider, if a man be quite out of his way, what must be the first means to bring him in again ? Why, a despair of ever coming to his journey's end in the way that he is in. If his home be eastward, and he be going westward, as long as he hopes he is in the right, he will go on; and as long as he so goes on hoping, he goes further amiss : therefore, when he meets with somebody that assures him that he is clean out of his

way, and brings him to despair of coming home, except he tm'n back again ; then he will return, and then he may hope and spare not. Why, sinner, just so is it with thy soul: thou art born out of the way to heaven; and in that way thou hast proceeded many a year; yet thou goest on ([uietly, and hopest to be saved, because thou art not so bad as many others. Why, I tell thee, except thou be brought to throw away those hopes, and see that thou hast all this while been quite out of the way to heaven; and hast been a child of wrath, and a servant of Satan, unpardoned, unsanctified, and if thou hadst died in this state, hadst been certainly damned ; I say, till thou be brought to this, thou wilt never return and be saved. Who will turn out of his way while he hopes he is right ? And let me once again tell thee, that if ever God mean good to thy soul, and intend to save thee, that is one of the first things that he will work upon thee : remember what I say, till thou feel God convincing thee, that the way which thou hast lived in will not serve the turn, and so break down thy former hopes, there is yet no saving work wrought upon thee, how well soever thou mayst hope of thyself. Yea, thus much more, if any thing keep thy soul out of heaven, which God forbid, there is nothing in the world liker to do it, than thy false hopes of being saved, while thou art out of the way to salvation. Why else is it that God cries down such hopes in his word ? Why is it that every faithful, skilful minister doth bend all his strength against the false faith and hope of sinners, as if he were to fight against neither small nor great, but this prince of iniquity? Why, alas ! they know that these are the main pillars of Satan's kingdom ; bring down but them too, and the house will fall. They know also the deceit and vanity of such hopes; that they are directly contrary to the truth of God; and what a sad case that soul is in, who hath no other hope, but that God's word will prove false, when the truth of God is the only ground of true hope : alas ! it is no pleasure to a minister to speak to people upon such an unwelcome subject, any more than it is to a pitiful physician to tell his patient,

1 do despair of your life, except you let blood; or there is no hope of the cure, except the gangrened member be cut off: if it be true, and of flat necessity, though it be displeasing, there is no remedy. Why, I beseech you, think on it reasonably without prejudice or passion, and tell me, where doth God give any hope of your salvation, till you are new creatures i Gal. vi. 15. Nay, I have showed you where he flatly overthroweth all such hope, Gal. v. 18—24;

2 Cor. v. 7. iVnd will it do you any good for a minister to give you hope, where God gives you none ; or would you desire him to do so .' Why, what would you think of such a minister when those hopes forsake you; or what thanks will you give him when you find yourself in hell ? would you not there lie and curse him for a deceiver for ever ? I know this to be true, and therefore I had rather you were displeased with me here, than curse me there. For my own part, if 1 had but one sermon to preach while I lived, I think this should be it: to persuade down all your ungrounded hopes of heaven, not to leave you there in despair, but that you may hope

upon Letter grounds which will novor deceive you. God hath told us what we shall say : "' Say to the righteous, It shall be well with him ; and to the wick(Hl, It shall he ill with him," Isa. iii. 10, 11. And if I shall say, it will be well with thee, when God hath said, it shall be ill with thee, what the better wert thou for this ! ^\ hose word would stand, think you, God's or mine ? Oh, little do carnal ministers know what they do, who strengthen the hopes of ungodly men ! They work as hard as they can against God, while they stand there to speak in the name of God, who layeth his battery against these false hopes, as knowing that they must now down, or the sinner must perish: and these teachers build up what God is pulling down. I know not what they can do worse to destroy men's souls. They are false teachers in regard of application, though they are true in regard of doctrine : this is partly through their flattering, men-pleasing temper ; partly because they are guilty themselves, and so should destroy their own hopes, as well as others ; and partly because, being graceless, they want that experience which should help them to discei-n betwixt hope and hope. The same may be said of carnal friends : if they see a poor sinner but doubting whether all be well with him, and but troubled for fear lest he be out of the way, what pains do they take to keep up his old hopes ! What, say they, if you should not be saved, God help a great many: you have lived honestly, &c.: never doubt, man, God is merciful ! Alas, silly creatures, you think you perform an office of friendship, and do him nuich good ! even as much as to give cold water to a man in a fever; you may ease him at the present, but it afterwards inflames him. What thanks will he give you hereafter, if you settle him upon his former hopes again ? Did you never read, " He that saith to the wicked, Thou art righteous, him shall the people curse, nations shall abhor him ?" Prov. xxiv. 24. If you were faithful friends indeed, you should rather say thus to him ; Friend, if you perceive the soundness of your hopes for heaven to be doubtful, oh ! do not smother those doubts, but go and open them to your minister, or some able friend ; and try them thoroughly in tinu^, and hold no more of them now than will hold good at judgment : it is better they break while they may be built more surely, than when the discovery will be your torment, but not your remedy. This were friendly and faithful counsel indeed. The proverb is, " If it were not ibr hope, the heart would break : " and Scripture tells us, that the heart must break that Christ will save. How can it be bound up till it be broken first i" So that the hope which keeps their hearts from breaking, doth keep them also from healing and saving.

W^ell, if these unwise men (who are, as we say, penny wise and pound foolish, who are wise to keep off the smart of a short, conditional, necessary, curable despair, but not wise to prevent an eternal, absolute, tormenting, uncurable despair) do not change their condition speedily, those hopes will leave them which they would not leave ; and then they that were fully resolved to hold fast their hopes, lot all the preachers in the world say what they

would, shall let them go whether they w^ill or no. Then let them hope for heaven if they can.

So that, you see, it will aggravate the misery of the damned, that with the loss of heaven, they shall lose all that hope of it which now supporteth them.

Sect. IV. Thirdly : Another additional loss will he this, They will lose all the false peace of conscience which maketh their present life so easy. The loss of this must necessarily follow the loss of the former. When presumption and hope are gone, peace cannot tarry. Who would think now, that sees how quietly the multitude of the ungodly live, that they must very shortly lie roaring in everlasting flames ? They lie down, and rise, and sleep as quietly ; they eat and drink as quietly ; they go about their work as cheerfully; they talk as pleasantly, as if nothing ailed them, or as if they were as far out of danger as an obedient believer : like a man that hath the falling sickness ; you would little think, while he is a labouring as strong, and talking as heartily, as another man, how he will presently fall down, lie gasping and foaming, and beating his breast in torment : so it is with these men. They are as free from the fears of hell as others, as free from any vexing sorrows, not so much as troubled with any cares of the state of their souls, nor with any sad or serious thoughts of what shall become of them in another world; yea, and for the most part, they have less doubts and disquiet of mind, than those who shall be saved. O happy men, if it would be always thus; and if this peace would prove a lasting peace ! But, alas ! there 's the misery, it will not. They are now in their own element, as the fish in the water ; but little knows that silly creature when he is most fearlessly and delightfully swallowing down the bait, how suddenly he shall be snatched out, and lie dead upon the bank ! And as little think these careless sinners what a change they are near. The sheep or the ox is driven quietly to the slaughter, because he knows not whither he goes ; if he knew it were to his death, you could not drive him so easily. How contented is the swine, when the butcher's knife is shaving his throat, little thinking that it is to prepare for his death ! Why, it is even so with these sensual, careless men. They fear the mischief least, when they are nearest to it, because they fear it not, or see it not with their eyes. " As in the days of Noah (saith Christ) they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, till the day that Noah entered into the ark, and knew not till the flood came, and took them all away," Matt. xxiv. 37—39 ; so will the coming of Christ be, and so will the coming of their particular judgment be. " For (saith the apostle) when they say. Peace and safety, then sudden destruction Cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child, and they shall not escape," 1 Thess. v. 3. O cruel peace, which ends in such a war! Reader, if this be thy own case, if thou hast no other peace in thy conscience than this ungrounded, self-created peace, I could heartily wish, for thy own sake, that thou wouldst cast it off". As I would not have any humble, gracious souls to vex

theii- own consciences needlessly, nor to disquiet and discompose their spirits by troubles of their own inakini?, nor to unlit themselves for duty, nor to interrupt their comfortable communion with God, nor to weaken their bodies, or cast themselves into melancholy distempers to the scandal of religion ; so would I not have a miserable wretch, who lives in a daily and hourly danger of dropping into hell, to be as merry and as quiet as if all were well with him : it is both unseemly and unsafe : more unseemly than to see a man go laughing to the gallows ; and more unsafe than to favour the gangrened member, which must be cut off, or to be making merry when the enemy is entering our habitations. Men's first peace is usually a false peace ; it is a second peace, which is brought into the soul upon the casting out of the first, which will stand good, and yet not always that neither ; for, where the change is by the halves, the second or third peace may be unsound, as well as the first; as many a man that casteth away the peace of his pro-faneness, doth take up the peace of mere civility and morality ; or if he yet discover the unsoundness of that, and is cast into trouble, then he healeth all with outward righteousness, or with a half (Christianity, and there he taketh up with peace. This is but driving Satan out of one room into another ; but till he be cast out of possession, the peace is unsound. Hear what Christ saith, " When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace; but when a stronger than he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he taketh from him all his armour wherein he trusted, and divideth his spoils," Luke xi. 21, 22. The soul of every man, by nature, is Satan's garrison ; all is at peace in such a man, till Christ comes : when Christ storms this heart, he breaks the peace; he giveth it most terrible alarms of judgment and hell, he battereth it with the ordinance of his threatenings and terrors, he sets all in a combustion of fear and sorrow, till he have forced it to yield to his mere mercy, and take him for the governor, and Satan is cast out; and then doth he establish a firm and lasting peace. If, therefore, thou art yet but in that first peace, and thy heart was never yet either taken by storm, or delivered up freely to Jesus Christ, never think that thy peace will endure. Can the soul have peace which is at enmity with Christ, or stands out against him, or thinks his government too severe, and his conditions hard i* can he have peace against whom God proclaimeth war ? I may say to thee, as Jehu to Joram, when he asked, " Is it peace ? What peace while the whoredoms of thy mother Jezebel remain?" So thou art desirous to hear nothing from the mouth of a minister but peace ; but what peace can there be, till thou hast cast away thy wickedness and thy first peace, and make thy peace with God through Christ ? Wilt thou believe God himself in this case ? why, read then what he saith twice over, " There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked," Isa. xlviii. 22; Ivii. 22. And hath he said it, and shall it not stand ? Sinner, though thou mayst now harden and fortify thy heart against fear, and grief, and trouble, yet as true as God is true, they will batter down thy proud

and fortified spirit, and seize upon it, and drive thee to amazement: this will he done either here or hereafter. My comisel therefore to thee is, that thou presently examine the grounds of thy peace, and say, I am now at ease and quiet in my mind; but is it grounded, and will it he lasting ; is the danger of eternal judgment over; am I sure my sins are pardoned, and my soul shall be saved ? if not, alas! what cause of peace ? I may be in hell before the next day, for aught I know. Certainly, a man that stands upon the pinnacle of a steeple, or that sleeps on the top of the main-mast, or that is in the heat of the most bloody fight, hath more cause of peace and carelessness than thou. Why, thou livest under the wrath of God continually, thou art already sentenced to eternal death, and mayst every hour expect the execution, till thou have sued out a pardon through Christ. I can show thee a hundred threatenings in Scripture which are yet in force against thee ; but canst thou show me one promise for thy safety an hour ? What assurance hast thou when thou goest forth of thy doors that thou shalt ever come in again ? I should wonder, but that I know the desperate hardness of the heart of man, how a man that is not sure of his peace with God, could eat, or drink, or sleep, or live in peace ! That thou art not afraid when thou liest down, lest thou shouldst awake in hell; or when thou risest up, lest thou shouldst be in hell before night; or when thou sittest in thy house, that thou still fearest not the approach of death, or some fearful judgment seizing upon thee, and that the threats and sentence are not always sounding in thy ears. Well, if thou wert the nearest friend that I have in the world, in this case that thou art in, I could wish thee no greater good, than that God would break in upon thy careless heart, and shake thee out of thy false peace, and cast thee into trouble, that when thou feelest thy heart at ease, thou wouldst remember thy misery; that when thou art pleasing thyself with thy -estate, or business, or labours, thou wouldst still remember the approaching woe ; that thou wouldst cry out in the midst of tliy pleasant discourse and merry company, Oh how near is the great and dreadful change ! that whatever thou art doing, God would make thee read thy sentence, as if it were still written before thine eyes ; and which way soever thou goest, he would still meet thee full in the face with the sense of his wrath, as the angel did Balaam with a drawn sword, till he had made thee cast away thy groundless peace, and lie down at the feet of Christ, whom thou resisted, and say. Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do ? and so receive from him a surer and better peace, which will never be quite broken, but will be the beginning of thy everlasting peace, and not perish in thy perishing, as the groundless peace of the world will do.

Sect. V. Fourthly : Another additional loss, aggravating their loss of heaven, is this. They shall lose all their carnal mirth. Their merry vein will then be opened and empty ; they will say themselves, as Solomon doth, of their laughter, " Thou art mad," and of their mirth, "What didst thou?" Eccles. ii. 2. Their witty jests and pleasant conceits are then ended, and their merry tales

are all told. " Their mirth was but as the cracklinf:^ of thorns under a pot," I'^iCclos. vii. 0 ; it made a great l)laz(^ and unseemly noise for a little while, but it was presently gone, and will return no more. They scorned to entertain any sadilening thoughts : the talk of death and judgment was irksome to them, because it damped their mirth: they could not endure to think of their sin or danger, l)ecause these thoughts did sad their spirits, l^hey knew not what it was to weep for sin, or to huml)le themselves under the mighty hand of God. They could laugh away sorrow, and sing away cares, and drive away these melancholy thoughts. They thought, if they should live so austerely, and meditate, and pray, and mourn, as the godly do, their lives would be a continual misery, and it were enough to make them run mad. Alas, poor souls ! what a mis;^ry then will that life be, where you shall have nothing but sorrow, intense, heart-piercing, multiplied sorrow; when you shall have neither the joys of the saints, nor your own former joys! Do you think there is one merry heart in hell; or one joyful countenance, or jesting tongue? You cry now, A little mirth is worth a great deal of sorrow ; but sure a little godly sorrow, whicli would have ended in eternal joy, had been more worth than a great deal of your foolish mirth, which v.ill end in sorrow. Can men of gravity run laughing and playing in the streets as little children do ; or wise men laugh at a mischief as fools and madnien ; or men that are sound in their brain, fall a dancing, as they will do in a via saltits, till they fall down dead with it ? No more pleasure have wise men in your pitiful mirth; for the end of such mirth is sorrow.

Sect. VI. Fifthly : Another additional loss will be this, They shall lose all their sensual contentments and delights. That which they esteemed their chiefest good, their heaven, their god, that must they lose, as well as heaven and God himself. They shall then, in despite of them, fulfil that command, which here they would not be persuaded to obey, of " making no provision for the ilesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof,'' Rom. xiii. 14. Oh what a fall will the proud, ambitious man have from the top of his honours ! As his dust and bones will not be known from the dust and bones of the poorest beggars, so neither will his soul be honoured or favoured any more than theirs. What a number of the great, noble, and learned, are now shut out of the presence of Christ! If you say. How can I tell that ? why, I answer, because their Judge hath told me so. Hath he not said by his apostle, " that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called ?" 1 Cor. i. 2G. And if they be not called, they be not predestinate, or justified, or glorified, Rom. viii. 30. Sure that rich man CLuke xvi.) hath now no humble obeisance done him, nor titles of honour put upon him ; nor do the poor now wait at his gates to receive of his scraps. They must be shut out of their well-contrived houses, and sumptuous buildings ; their comely chambers, with costly hangings ; their soft beds, and easy couches. They shall not find their gallant walks, their curious gardens, with

variety of beauteous, odoriferous fruits and flowers; their rich pastures, and pleasant meadows, and plenteous harvest, and flocks and herds. Their tables will not be so spread and furnished, nor they so punctually attended and observed. They have not there variety of dainty fare, nor several courses, nor tempting dishes prepared to please their appetites to the full. The rich man there fareth not deliciously every day, neither shall he wear there his purple and fine linen. The jetting, gorgeous, well-dressed gallant, that must not have a pin amiss, that stands as a picture set to sale, that take themselves more beholden to the tailor or sempster for their comeliness, than to God ; they shall then be quite in a diff'er-ent garb. There is no powdering or curling of their hair, nor eyeing of themselves, nor desirous expecting the admiration of beholders. Sure our voluptuous youths must leave their cards and dice behind them, as also their hawks, and hounds, and bowls, and all their former pleasant sports : they shall then spend their time in a more sad employment, and not in such pastimes as these. Where will then be your May-games, and your morrice-dances, your stage-plays, and your shows ? what mirth will you have in remembering all the games, and sports, and dancings, which you had on the Lord's days, when you should have been delighting yourselves in God and his work ? Oh what an alteration will our jovial, roaring swaggerers then find;-what bitter draughts will they have instead of their wine and ale ! If there were any drinking of healths, the rich man would not have begged so hard for a drop of waters The heat of their lust will be then abated; they shall not spend their time in courting their mistresses, in lascivious discourse, in amorous songs, in wanton dalliance, in their lustful embracements, or brutish defilements : yet they are like enough to have each other's company there ; but they will have no more comfort in that company, than Zimri and Cosbi in dying together; or than lewd companions have, in being hanged together on the same gallows. Oh the dolefid meeting that these lustful wantons will have there ! how it will even cut them to the heart, to look each other in the face, and to remember that beastly pleasure, for which they now must pay so clear ! So will it be with the fellowship of drunkards, and all others that were playfellows together in sin, who got not their pardon in the time of their lives. What direful greeting will there then be, cursing the day that ever they saw the faces of one another; remembering and ripping up all their lewdness, to the aggravation of their torment! Oh that sinners would remember this in the midst of their pleasure and jollity, and say to one another, We must shortly reckon for this before the jealous God ! Will the remembrance of it then be comfortable or terrible ? will these delights accompany us to another world? How shall we look each other in the face, if we meet in hell together for these things? will not the memorial of them be then our torment? shall we then take these for friendly actions, or rather wish we had spent this time in praying together, or admonishing one another ? Oh why should we sell such a lasting, incomprehensible joy, for one

taste of seeming; pleasure ? Come, as we have sinned together, let us pray together before we stir, that God would pardon us ; and let us enter into a promise to one another, that we will do thus no more, but will meet together with the godly in the worship of (iod, and help one another towards heaven, as oft as wc have met for our sinful merriments, in helping to deceive and destroy each other. This would be the way to prevent this sorrow, and a course that would comfort you, when you look back upon it hereafter. \\'iK) would spend so many days, and years, and thoughts, and cares, and be at so much cost and pains, and all to please this flesh for a moment, which must shortly be most loathsome, stinking rottenness ; and in the mean time neglect our precious souls, and that state which we must trust to for ever and ever ? to be at such pains for that pleasure which dies in the enjoying, and is almost as soon gone as come ; and when we have most need of comfort, will be so far from following us as our happiness, that it will be perpetual fuel to the flames which shall torment us ! Oh that men knew but what they desire, when they would so fain have all things suited to the desires of the flesh ! They would have buildings, walks, lands, clothes, diet, and all so fitted as may be most pleasing and delightful. Why, this is but to desire their temptations to be increased, and their snare strengthened: their joys will be more carnal; and how great an enemy carnal joy is to spiritual, experienced men can quickly tell you. If we took the flesh so much for our enemy as we do profess, we could not so earnestly desire and contrive to accommodate it, and so congratulate all its contentments as we do.

CHAPTER IV.

THE GREATNESS OF THE TORMENTS OF THE DAMNED DISCOVERED.

Sect. I. Having thus .showed you how great their loss is, who are shut out of rest, and how it will be aggravated by those additional losses which will accompany it, I should next here show you the greatness of those positive sufferings which will accompany this loss. But because I am to treat of rest, rather than of torment, I will not meddle with the explication of the quality of those sufferings, but only show their greatness in some few brief discoveries, lest the careless sinner, while he hears of no other punishment but that of loss before mentioned, should think he can bear that well enough by his own resolvedness, and so flatter himself in hope of a tolerable hell. That there are, besides the loss of happiness, such actual, sensible torments for the damned, is a matter beyond all doubt to him that doth not doubt the truth of the Scriptures; and that they will be exceeding great, may appear by these arguments following.

First: From the principal Author of them, which is God himself: as it was no less than God whom the sinner had offended, so it is no less than God that will punish them for their offences. He hath prepared those torments for his enemies. His continued anger will still he devouring them. His breath of indignation will kindle the flames. His wrath will be an intolerable burden to their , souls. Oh, if it were but a creature that they had to do with, they might bear it, for the penalty would be answerable to the infirmity of him that should inflict it. A child can give but an easy stroke, but the strokes of a giant will he answerable to his strength. Woe to him that falls under the strokes of the Almighty ! They shall feel to their sorrow, that it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. It were nothing in comparison to this, if all the world were against them, or if the strength of all creatures were united in one to inflict their penalty. They had now rather venture upon the displeasure of God, than to displease a landlord, a master, a friend, a neighbour, or their own flesh : but then they will wish a thousand times in vain, that they had lost the favour of all the world, and had been hated of all men, so they had not lost the favour of God ; for, as there is no life like his favour, so is there no death like his displeasure. Oh what a consuming. Are is his wrath ! If it be kindled here, and that but a little, how do we wither before it, as the grass that is cut down before the sun ! How .soon doth our strength decay, and turn to weakness, and our beauty to deformity ! Churches are rooted up, commonwealths are overthrown, kingdoms depopulated, armies destroyed, and who can stand before his wrath ? Even the heavens and earth will melt at his presence; and when*he speaks the word at his great clay of account, they will be burnt up before him as a scroll in the fire. The flames do not so easily run through the dry stubble, or consume the houses where its violence hath prevailed, as the wrath of God will feed upon these wretches. Oh, they that could not bear a prison, or a gibbet, or fire, for Christ, no, nor scarce a few scorns from the mouths of the ignorant, how will they now bear the devouring fire !

Sect. II. 2. The place or state of torment, is purposely ordained for the glorifying of the attribute of God's justice. As all the works of God are great and wonderful, so those above all, which are specially intenclecl for the eminent advancing of some of his attributes. When he will glorify his power, he makes the worlds by his wisdom. The comely order of all and singular creatures, declares his wisdom. His providence is shown, in sustaining all things, and maintaining order, and attaining his excellent ends, amongst the confused, perverse, tumultuous agitations of a world of wicked, foolish, self-destroying miscreants. When a spark of his wrath doth kindle upon the earth, the whole world, save only eight persons, are drowned. Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboim, are burned with fire from heaven, to ashes. The sea shuts her mouth upon some. The earth doth open and swallow others. The pestilence destroyeth them up by thousands. The present deplora-

ble state of the Jews may fully testify this to the world. Aiul yet the glorifying of the two great attril)utes of mercy and justict% is intended most eminently for the life to come. As, therefore, when Ciod will purposely then glorify his mercy, he will do it in a way and degree that is now incredible, and beyond the comprehension of the saints that must enjoy it; so that the blood of his Son, and the enjoyment of himself immediately in glory, shall not be thought too high an honour Ibr them. So also, when the time comes that he will purposely manifest his justice, it shall appear to be indeed the justice of God. The everlasting ilames of hell will not be thought too hot for the rebellious ; and when they have there burnt through millions of ages, he will not repent him of the evil which is befallen them. Oh ! woe to the soul that is thus set up for a butt, for the wrath of the Almighty to shoot at; and for a bush, that must burn in the flames of his jealousy, and never be consumed!

Sect. III. 3, The tormentsof the damned must needs be extreme, because they are the effect of Divine revenge. Wrath is terrible, but revenge is implacable. When the great God shall say, I will now be righted for all the wrongs that I have borne from rebellious creatures ; I will let out my wTath, and it shall be stayed no more, you shall now pay for all the abuse of my patience ! Remember, now, how I waited your leisure in vain, how I stooped to persuade you ; how I, as it were, kneeled to entreat you. Did you think I would always be slighted by such miscreants as you ? Oh, who can look up when God shall thus plead with them in the heat of revenge ? Then will he be revenged for every mercy abused, for his creatures consumed in luxury and excess, for every hour's time mispent, for the neglect of his word, for the vilifying of his messengers, for the hating of his people, for the profanation of his ordinances and neglect of his worship, for the breaking of his sabbaths and the grieving of his Spirit, for the taking of his name in vain, for unmerciful neglect of his servants in distress. Oh ! the numberless bill that will be brought in ! and the charge that will overcharge the soul of the sinner ! And how hotly revenge will pursue them all to the highest! How God will stand over them with the rod in his hand, (not the rod of fatherly chastisement, but that iron rod wherewith he bruiseth the rebellious,) and lay it on for all their neglects of Christ and grace ! Oh that men would foresee this, and not put themselves under the hammer of revenging fury, when they may have the treasure of happiness at so easy rates, and please God better in preventing their woe !

Sect. IV. 4. Consider, also, how this justice and revenge will be the delight of the Almighty. Though he had rather men would stoop to Christ, and accept of his mercy, yet when they persist in rebellion, he will take pleasure in their execution. Though he desire not the death of him that dieth, but rather that he repent and live; yet, when he will not repent and live, God doth desire and delight in the execution of justice conditionally. So that men will repent, he desires not their death, but their life, Ezek. xxxiii. R 2

11 ; yet, if they repent not, in the same place he uttereth his resolution for their death, ver. 8, 13. He tells us, "that fury is not in him ; " yet he addeth in the next words, " Who would set the briers and thorns together in hattle ? I would go through them ; I would burn them together," Isa. xxvii. 4. What a doleful case is the wretched creature in, when he shall thus set the heart of his Creator against him ! " And he that made him, will not save him; and he that formed him, will not have mercy upon him," Isa. xxvii. II. How heavy a threatening is that, " As the Lord rejoiced over you to do you good, so the Lord will rejoice over you to destroy you, and to bring you to nought," Deut. xxviii. 63. Woe to the soul which God rejoiceth to punish ! Yea, he tells the simple ones that love simplicity, and the scorners that delight in scorning, and the fools that hate knowledge, " that because he called, and they refused, he stretched out his hand, and no man regarded, but set at nought all his counsel, and would none of his reproof; therefore he will also laugh at their calamity, and mock Vv'hen their fear cometh ; when their fear cometh as desolation, and their destruction as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon them. Then shall they call upon him, but he will not answer ; they shall seek him early, but shall not find him ; for that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord," Prov. i. 22—29. I could entreat thee, who readest them, if thou be one of that sort of men, that thou wilt but view over seriously that part of the chapter (Prov. i.) from the 20th verse to the end, and believe them to be the true v/ords of Christ by his Spirit in Solomon. Is it not a terrible thing to a wretched soul, when it shall lie roaring perpetually in the flames of hell, and the God of mercy himself shall laugh at them ; when they shall cry out for mercy, yea, for one drop of water, and God shall mock them instead of relieving them ; when none in heaven or earth can help them but God, and he shall rejoice over them in their calamity ? Why, you see these are the very words of God himself in Scripture. And most just is it, that they who laughed at the sermon, and mocked at the preacher, and derided the people that obeyed the gospel, should be laughed at and derided by God. Ah ! poor ignorant fools, (for so this text calls them,) they will then have mocking enough, till their hearts ache with it.* I dare warrant them for ever making a jest at godliness more, or making themselves merry with their own slanderous reports. It is themselves, then, that must be the woeful objects of derision, and that of God himself, who would have crowned them with glory. I know when the Scripture speaks of God's laughing and mocking, it is not to be understood literally, but after the manner of men : but this may suffice us, that it will be such an act of God to the tormenting of the sinner, which he cannot more fitly conceive or express under any other notion or name, than these.

Sect. V. 5. Consider who shall be God's executioners of their torment; and that is. First, Satan ; Secondly, Themselves. First,

* See also Psal. xxxvii. 13.

He that was here so successful in drawing them from Christ, will then be the instrument of their puni.shmont, for yielding to his temptations. It was a pitiful sight to see the man possessed, that was hound with chains, and lived among the tombs ; and that other that would be cast into the fire and into the water ; but, alas ! that was nothing to th(^ torment that Satan puts them to in h»'ll : that is the reward he will give them for all their service ; for their rejecting the commands of God, and forsaking Christ, and neglecting their souls at his persuasion. Ah, if they had served Christ as faithfully as they did Satan, and had forsaken all for the love of him, he would have given them a better reward. 2. And it is most just, also, that they should there be their own tormentors, that they may see that their whole destruction is of theniselves ; and they who were wilfully the meritorious cause, should also be the efficient in their own sufferings : and then who can they complain of but themselves ? And they will be no more able to cease their self-tormenting, than men that we sec in a deep melancholy, that will by no arguments be taken off from their sorrows.

Sect. VI. 6. Consider, also, how that their torment will be universal, not upon one part alone, while the rest are free ; but as all have joined in the sin, so must they all partake of the torment. The soul, as it was the chief in sinning, shall be the chief in suffering ; and as h is of a more spiritual and excellent nature than bodies are, so will its torments as far exceed our present bodily sufferings. And as the joys of the soul do far surpass all sensual pleasures, and corporal contentments ; so do the pains of the soul surpass those corporal pains: and as the martyrs did triumph in the very flames, because their souls were full of joy, though their bodies were in pain ; so, though these damned creatures could enjoy all their bodily pleasures, yet the soul's sufferings would take away the sweetness of them all.

And it is not only a soul, but a sinful soul, that must suffer; the guilt which still remains upon it, will make it fit for the wrath of God to w^ork upon : as fire will not burn, except the fuel be combustible; but if the wood be dry, or it light upon straw, how fiercely will it burn then! Why, the guilt of their former sins will be as tinder to gunpowder, to the damned soul, to make the flames of hell to take hold upon them with fury.

And as the soul, so also the body, must bear its part. That body that must needs be pleased, whatsoever become of its eternal safety, shall now be paid for all its unlawful pleasures : that body which was so carefully looked to, so tenderly cherished, so curiously dressed ; that body which could not endure heat or cold, or an ill smell, or a loathsome sight; oh what must it now endure ! how are its haughty looks now taken down ! how little will those flames regard its comeliness and beauty ! But as death did not regard it, nor the worms regard it, but as freely feed upon the face of the proud and lustful dames, and the heart of the most ambitious lords or princes, as if they had been but beggars or brutes; so will their tormentors then as little pity their tenderness, or reverence theii

lordliness, when they shall be raised from their graves to their eternal doom. Those eyes which were wont to be delighted with curious sights, and to feed themselves upon beauteous and comely objects, must then see nothing but what shall amaze and terrify them ; an angry, sin-revenging God above them, and those saints whom they scorned, enjoying the glory which they have lost; and about them will be only devils and damned souls; ah, then, how sadly will they look back and say, Are all our merry meetings, our feasts, our plays, our wanton toys, our games and revels, come to this? Then those ears which were wont to be delighted Vv'ith music, shall hear the shrieks and cries of their damned companions ; children crying out against their parents, that gave them encouragement and example in evil, but did not teach them the fear of the Lord; husbands crying out upon their wives, and wives upon their husbands ; masters and servants cursing each other; ministers and people, magistrates and subjects, charging their misery upon one another, for discouraging in duty, conniving in sin, and being silent or formal, when they should have plainly told one another of their misery, and forewarned them of this danger. Thus will soul and body be companions in calamity.

Sect. VII. 7. And the greater by far will their torments be, because they shall have no comfort left to help to mitigate them. In this life, when a minister foretold them of hell, or conscience began to trouble their peace, they had comforts enough at hand to relieve them : their carnal friends were all ready to speak comfort to them, and promise them that all should be well with them ; but now they have not a word of comfort either for others or themselves. Formerly they had their business, their company, their mirth, to drive away their fears ; they could think away their sorrows, or play them away, or sleep them away, or at least, time did wear them away; but now all these remedies are vanished. They had a hard, a presumptuous, and unbelieving heart, which was a wall to defend them against troubles of mind ; but now their experience hath banished these, and left them naked to the fury of those flames. Yea, formerly Satan himself was their comforter, and would unsay all that the minister had said against them, as he did to our first mother : Hath God said. Ye shall not eat ? Ye shall not surely die. So doth he now : Doth God tell you that you shall lie in hell ? It is no such matter; God is more merciful; he doth but tell you so, to fright you from sinning: who would lose his present pleasures, for the fear of that which he never saw ? Or, if there be a hell, what need you to fear it ? Are not you Christians, and shall you not be saved by Christ ? Was not his blood shed for you ? Ministers may tell you what they please; they delight to fright men, that they may be masters of their consciences, and therefore would make them believe that they shall all be damned, except they will fit themselves to their precise humour. Thus, as the Spirit of Christ is the comforter of the saints, so Satan is the comforter of the wicked; for he knows if he should now disquiet them, they would no longer serve him ; or if fears or doubts should

begin to trouble them, they would bethink themselves of their clanger, and so escape it. Never was a thief more careful lest he should awake the people, when he is robbing the house, than Satan is careful not to awaken a sinner. And as a cut-purse will look you iu the face, and hold you in a tale, that you may never suspect Inm, while he is picking your pockets; so will Satan labour to koep men from all doubts, or jealousies, or sorrowful thoughts. But when the sinner is dead, and he hath his prey, and his stratagem hath had success, then he hath done flattering and comforting them. While the sight of sin and misery might have helped to save them, he took all the pains he could to hide it from their eyes; but when it is too late, and there is no hope left, he will make them see and feel to the utmost. Oh! which way will the forlorn sinner then look for comfort ? They that drew him into the snare, and promised him safety, do now forsake him, and are forsaken themselves. His ancient comforts are taken from him, and the righteous God, whose forewarnings he made light of, will now make good his word against him to the least tittle.

Sect. VIII. 8. But the great aggravation of this misery will be its eternity. That when a thousand millions of ages are past, their torments are as fresh to begin as at the first day. If there were any hope of an end, it would case them to foresee it; but when it must be for ever so, that thought is intolerable : much more will the misery itself be. They were never weary of sinning, nor ever would have been, if they had lived eternally upon earth ; and now God will not be weary of plaguing them. They never heartily repented of their sin, and God will never repent him of their suffering. They broke the laws of the eternal God, and therefore shall suffer eternal punishment. They knew it was an everlasting kingdom which they refused when it was offered them, and therefore what wonder if they be everlastingly shut out of it; it was their immortal souls that were guilty of the trespass, and therefore must immortally suffer the pains. Oh, now, what happy men would they think themselves, if they might have lain still in their graves, or continued dust, or suffered no worse than the gnawing of those worms ! Oh that they might but there lie down again; what a mercy now would it be to die ! and how will they call and cry out for it, O death, whither art thou now gone ? Now come and cut off this doleful life ! Oh that these pains would break my heart, and end my being ! Oh that I might once die at last! Oh that I had never had a being ! These groans will the thoughts of eternity wring from their hearts. They were wont to think the sermon long, and prayer long ; how long then will they think these endless torments ! What difference is there betwixt the length of their pleasures and of their pains! The one continued but a moment, but the other endureth through all eternity. Oh that sinners would lay this thought to heart ! Remember how time is almost gone. Thou art standing all this while at the door of eternity, and death is waiting to open the door, and put thee in. Go sleep out but a few more nights, and stir up and down on earth a few more

days, and then thy nights and days shall end; thy thoughts, and cares, and displeasures, and all shall be devoured by eternity ; thou must enter upon the state which shall never be changed. As the joys of heaven are beyond our conceiving, so also are the pains of hell. Everlasting torment is unconceivable torment.

Sect. IX. Object. But I know if it be a sensual unbeliever that readeth all this, he will cast it by with disdain, and say, I will never believe that God will thus torment his creatures. What! to delight in their torture ? and that for everlasting I and all this for the faults of a short time ? it is incredible. How can this stand with the infiniteness of his mercy ? I would not thus torment the worst enemy that I have in the world, and yet my mercifulness is nothing to God's. These are but threats to awe men; I will not believe them.

Ansic. Wilt thou not believe ? I do not wonder if thou be loth to believe so terrible tidings to thy soul, as these are ; which if they were believed and apprehended, indeed, according to their weight, would set thee a trembling and roaring in the anguish of horror day and night. And I do as little wonder that the devil who ruleth thee, should be loth, if he can hinder it, to suffer thee to believe it. For if thou didst believe it, thou wouldst spare no cost or pains to escape it. But go to : if thou wilt read on, either thou shalt believe it before thou stirrest, or prove thyself an infidel or pagan. Tell me, then, dost thou believe Scripture to be the word of God ? If thou do not, thou art no more a Christian than thy horse is, or than a Turk is. For what ground have we besides Scripture to believe that Jesus Christ did come into the world, or die for man ? If thou believe not these, I have nothing here to do with thee, but refer thee to the second part of this book, where I have proved Scripture to be the word of God. But if thou do believe this to be so, and yet dost not believe that the same Scripture is true, thou art far worse than either infidel or pagan. For the vilest pagan durst hardly charge their idol-gods to be liars : and darest thou give the lie to the God of heaven; and accuse him of speaking that which shall not come to pass ; and that in such absolute threats and plain expressions ? But if thou dareSt not stand to this, but dost believe Scripture both to be the word of God, and to be true, then I shall presently convince thee of the truth of these eternal torments. Wilt thou believe if a prophet should tell it thee ? Why read it then in the greatest prophets, Moses, David, and Isaiah, Deut. xxxii. 22; Psal. xi. 6; ix. 17; Isa. XXX. 33. Or wilt thou believe one that was more than a prophet ? Why, hear then what John Baptist saith. Matt. iii. 10 ; Luke iii. 17. Or wilt thou believe if an apostle should tell thee ? Why hear what one saith, where he calls it the " vengeance of eternal fire ; and the blackness of darkness for ever," Jude 7, 13. Or what if thou have it from an apostle that had been rapt up in revelations into the third heaven, and seen things unutterable, wilt thou believe then ? Why take it then from Paul : " The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, with his mighty angels, in

flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power," 2 Thess. i. 7—9. And " that they all might be danmed, who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness," 2 Thess. ii. 12. So Rom. ii. 5—7. Or wilt thou believe it from the beloved apostle, who was so taken up in revelations, and saw it, as it were, in his visions ? Why see then Rev. xx. 10, 15. They are said there to be " cast into the lake of fire, and tormented day and night for ever." So Rev. xxi. S; so 2 Pet. ii. 17. Or wilt thou believe it from the mouth of Christ himself the Judge ? Why read it then : " As therefore the tares are gathered and burnt in the fire, so shall it be in the end of this world: the Son of man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them which do iniquity ; and shall cast them into a furnace of fire : there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth," &c. Matt. xiii. 40—42, 49, 50. So Matt, xviii. 8, 9 : so Mark ix. 43, 44, 4G, 48 : where he repeateth it three times over, " Where their worm never dieth, and their fire is not (juenched." And, " Then shall he say to them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels : for I was, &c. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, and the righteous into life eternal/' Matt. xxv. 41, 4G.

What sayest thou now to all this; wilt thou not believe? If thou wilt not believe Christ, I know not whom thou wilt believe; and therefore it is in vain to persuade thee any further: only let me tell thee, the time is at hand when thou wilt easily believe, and that without any preaching or arguing : when thou seest the great and terrible day, and hearest the condemning sentence passed, and art thyself thrust down to hell, as Luke x. 11, then thou shalt believe, and never doubt again : and do not say but thou wast told so much. Surely he that so much dissuades thee from believing, doth yet believe and tremble himself, Jam. ii. 19.

And whereas thou thinkest that God is more merciful, why, sure, he knows best his own mercifulness. His mercy will not cross his truth. Cannot God be infinite in mercy, except he save the wilful and rebellious .' Is a judge unmerciful for condemning malefactors ? Mercy and justice have their several objects. Thousands of humble, believing, obedient souls shall know to their eternal comfort, that God is merciful, though the refusers of his grace shall lie under justice. God will then force thy conscience to confess it in hell, that God who condemned thee was yet merciful to thee. Was it not mercy to be made a reasonable creature ; and to have patience to endure thy many years'provocations, and waiting upon thee frorn sermon to sermon ; desiring and entreating thy repentance and return .' Was it not mercy to have the Son of God, with all his blood and merits, freely oifered thee, if thou wouldst but have accepted him to govern and to save thee ? nay, when thou hadst neglected and refused Christ once, or twice, yea, a hundred times, that God

should yet follow thee with mvitations from day to day ? And shalt thou wilfully refuse mercy to the last hour, and then cry out that God will not be so unmerciful as to condemn thee ? Thy conscience M'ill smite thee for thy madness, and tell thee, that God was merciful in all this, though such as thou do perish for thy wilfulness. Yea, the sense of the greatness of his mercy will then be a great part of thy torment.

And whereas thou thinkest the pain to be greater than the offence, that is because thou art not a competent judge. Thou knowest what pain is, but thou knowest not the thousandth part of the evil of sin. Shall not the righteous Judge of the world do justly ? Nay, it is no more than thou didst choose thyself. Did not God set before thee life and death, and tell thee, if thou wouldst accept of the government of Christ, and renounce thy lusts, that then thou shouldst have eternal life ? And if thou wouldst not have Christ, but the world or flesh, to rule over thee, thou shouldst then endure eternal torments ? Did not he offer thee thy choice, and bid thee take which of these thou wouldst; yea, and entreat thee to choose aright ? And dost thou now cry out of severity, when thou hast but the consequence of thy wilfsl choice ? But it is not thy accusing God of cruelty that shall serve thy turn; instead of procuring thy escape, or the mitigation of thy torments, it will but make thy burden the more heavy.

And whereas thou sayest that thou wouldst not so torment thy own enemy; I answer. There is no reason that thou shouldst : for is it all one to offend a crawling worm of the earth, and to offend the eternal glorious God ? Thou hast no absolute dominion over thine enemy, and there may be some fault in thyself as well as in him ; but with God and us the case is contrary. Yet thou makest nothing of killing a flea if it do but bite thee; yea, a hundred of them, if they did not touch thee ; and yet never accusest thyself of cruelty. Yea, thou wilt torment thy ox all his life-time with toilsome labour, and kill him at last, though he never deserved ill of thee, nor disobeyed thee, and though thou hast over him but the borrowed authority of a superior fellow creature, and not the sovereign power of the absolute Creator. Yea, how commonly dost thou take away the lives of birds, and beasts, and fishes ! Many times a great many of lives must be taken away to make for thee but one meal. How many deaths, then, have been suffered in obedience to thy will, from thy first age to thy last hour ; and all this without any desert of the creature! And must it yet seem cruelty, that the sovereign Creator, who is ten thousand times more above thee than thou art above a flea or a toad, should execute his justice upon such a contemner of his authority ? But I have given you some reasons of this before.

Sect. X. But methinks I perceive the obstinate sinner desperately resolving. If I must be damned, there is no remedy; rather than I will live so precisely as the Scripture requireth, 1 will put it to the venture : I shall escape as well as the rest of my neighbours, and as the most of the world, and we will even bear it as well as

we can. Aiisw. Alas, poor croature ! I wish thou didst hut know what it is that thou dost so boldly venture on ; I dare say thou wouldst sleep this night but very uncjuietly. Wilt thou leave thyself no room for hope t Art thou such a malicious, implacable enemy to Christ and thy own soul i And dost thou think, indeed, that thou canst bear the wrath of God, and go away so easily with these eternal torments? Yet let me beg this of thee, that before thou dost so llatly resolve, thou wouldst lend me thine attention to these few questions which I shall put to thee, and weigh them with the reason of a man ; and if then thou think thou canst bear these pains, I shall give thee over and say no more.

First: Who art thou that thou shouldst bear the wrath of God ? Art thou a god, or art thou a man ? What is thy strength to undergo so much ? Is it not as the strength of wax or stubble to resist the fire ; or as chalF to the wind; or as the dust before the fierce whirlwind t Was he not as stout a man as thyself, who cried to God, " Wilt thou break a leaf driven to and fro ; and wilt thou pursue the dry stubble?" Jobxiii. 25;* and he that confesseth, " I am a worm, and no man," Psal. xxii. G. If thy strength were as iron, and thy bones as brass, thou couldst not bear. If thy foundation were as the earth, and thy power as the heavens, yet shouldst thou perish at the breath of his indignation. How much more when thou art but a little piece of a worm, creeping, breathing clay, kept a few days from stinking, and from being eaten with worms, by the mere support and favour of him whom thou thus resistest.

Secondly : If thou art able to wrestle with the indignation of the Almighty, why then dost thou tremble at the signs of his power or wrath I Do not the terrible thunder-claps sometimes affright thee; or the lightning-flashes, or that unseen power which goes with it, in rending in pieces mighty oaks, and tearing dov>'n the strongest buildings ? If thou hadst been in the church of Wilhicombe, in Devonshire, when the lightning broke in, and scorched and burnt the people, and left the brains and hair upon the pillars, would it not have made thee afraid .'* If thou be put in a place where the plague doth rage, so that it comes to so many thousand a week, doth it not astonish thee, to see men that were well within a few days to be thrown into the graves by heaps and multitudes ? If thou hadst stood by when Pharaoh and his people were so strangely plagued, and at last drowned together in the sea; or when the earth swallowed up Dathan, Abirani, and their companies, and the people fled away at the cry, lest the earth should swallow them up also; or wlien Elias brought fire from heaven to consume the captains and their companies ; would not any of these sights have daunted thy spirit ? Why, how then canst thou bear the hellish plagues ?

Thirdly : Tell me also, if thou be so strong, and thy heart so stout, why do those small suff"erings so dismay thee which befall thee here ? If thou have but a tooth-ache, or a fit of the gout or

* Read Psal. Isxvii. 18 : Exocl. ix. 28.

stone, what groans dost thou utter, what moans dost thou make ! The house is filled with thy constant complaints ; thy friends about thee are grieved at thy pains, and stand over thee condoling thy miserable state. If thou shouldst but lose a leg or an arm, thou wouldst make a greater matter of it. If thou lose but a friend ; if thou lose thine estate, and fall into poverty, and beggary, and disgrace ; how heavily wouldst thou bear any one of these ! And yet all these laid together will be one day accounted a happy state, in comparison of that which is suifered in hell. Let me see thee shake off the most painful sickness, and make as light of convulsive, epileptic, arthritic, nephritic pains, or such-like diseases, when they seize upon thee, and then the strength of thy spirit will appear. Alas, how many such boasters as thyself have I seen made stoop and eat their words ! And when God hath but let out a little of his wrath, that Pharaoh who before asked. Who is the Lord, that I should let all go for him ? hath turned his tune, and cried, I have sinned.

Fourthly : If thy stout spirit do make so light of hell, why then doth the approach of death so much affright thee ? Didst thou never find the sober thoughts of death to raise a kind of dread in thy mind ? Wast thou never in a fever, or consumption, or any disease wherein thou didst receive the sentence of death ? If thou wast not, thou wilt be before long; and then when the physician hath plainly told thee that there is no hopes, oh how cold it strikes to thy heart! Why is death to men the king of terrors else ? and the stoutest champions then do abate their courage ? Oh ! but the grave would be accounted a palace or a paradise, in comparison of that place of torment which thou desperately slightest.

Fifthly: If all this be nothing, go try thy strength by some corporeal torment; as Bilney, before he went to the stake, would first try his finger in the candle, so do thou. Hold thy finger awhile in the fire, and feel there whether thou canst endure the fire of hell. Austin mentioneth a chaste Christian woman, who being tempted to uncleanncss by a lewd ruffian, she desired him for her sake to hold his finger one hour in the fire : he answereth. It is an unreasonable request: How much more unreasonable is it, said she, that I should burn in hell for the satisfying your lust! So say I to thee : If it be an intolerable thing to suffer the heat of the fire for a year, or a day, or an hour, what will it be to suffer ten thousand times more for ever ? What if thou wert to suffer Lawrence's death, to be roasted upon a gridiron; or to be scraped or pricked to death as other martyrs were; or if thou wert to feed upon toads for a year together ? If thou couldst not endure such things as these, how wilt thou endure the eternal flames ?

Sixthly : Tell me yet again, If hell be so small a matter, why canst thou not endure so much as the thoughts or the mention of it ? If thou be alone, thou darcst scarcely think of hell, for fear of raising disquietness in thy spirit. If thou be in company, thou canst not endure to have any serious speech of it, lest it spoil the sport, and mar the mirth, and make thee tremble, as Felix did

when Paul was discoursing of the judgment to come. Thou canst not endure to hear a minister preach oi" hell, hut thou gnashest thy ttH^th, and disdainest him, and reproachest his sermon, as enough to drive men to desperation, or make them mad. And canst thou endure the torments, when thou canst not endure so nmch as to liear of them ? Alas ! man, to hear thy judgment from the mouth of Christ, and to feel the execution, will he another kind of matter, than to hear it from a minister.

Seventhly : Furthermore, What is the matter that the rich man in hell, mentioned in Luke xvi. could not make as light of it as thou dost !* Was not he as likely a man to bear it as thyself? Why doth he so cry out that he is tormented in the flames ; and stoop so low, as to beg a drop of water of a beggar that he had but a little before despised at his gates ; and to be beholden to him, that had been beholden to the dogs to lick his sores ?

Also, what aileth thy companions, who were as resolute as thyself, that when they lie a dying, their courage is so cooled, and their haughty expressions are so greatly changed ? They who had the same spirits and language as thou hast now, and made as light of all the threats of the word ; yet when they see they are going into another world, how pale do they look ; how faintly do they speak ; how dolefully do they complain and groan ! They send for the minister then, whom they despised before, and desire to be prayed for, and would be glad to die in the state of those whom they would not be persuaded to imitate in their lives ; except it be here and there a desperate wretch, who is given over to a more than hellish hardness of heart. Why cannot these make as light of it as thou ?

Eighthly : Yet further. If thou be so fearless of that eternal misery, why is the least foretaste of it so terrible ? Didst thou never feel such a thing as a tormenting conscience ? If thou hast not, thou shalt do. Didst thou never see and speak with a man that lived in desperation, or in some degree of those wounds of spirit that were near despair ? How uncomfortable was their conference ! How burdensome their lives ! Nothing doth them good which they possess ; the sight of friends, or house, or goods, which refresh othei's, is a trouble to them ; they feel no sweetness in meat or drink ; they are weary of life, and fearful of death. What is the matter with these men ? If the misery of the damned itself can be endured, why cannot they more easily endure these little sparks ?

Ninthly : Again, tell me faithfully, what if thou shouldst but see the devil appear to thee in some terrible shape, would it not daunt thee ? ^^'hat if thou shouldst meet him in thy way home, or he should show himself to thee at night in thy bed-chamber, would not thy heart fail thee, and thy hair stand on end ? I could name thee those that have been as confident as thyself, who, by such a sight, have been so appalled, that they were in danger of being driven out of their wits. Or.what if some damned soul, of thy former acquaintance, should appear to thee in some bodily likeness, would not this amaze thee ? What fears do people live in, whose houses or persons have been but haunted with spirits, though they

have only heard some noises, and seen some sights, but never felt any hurt upon their bodies 1 Alas ! what is this to the torments of hell ? Canst thou not endure a shadow to appear before thee ? Oh, how wilt thou endure to live with them for ever, where thou shalt have no other company hut devils and the damned ; and shalt not only see them, but be tormented with them and by them ! And as incredible a matter as this seems to thee, if thy thorough conversion prevent it not, thou knowest not how few months thou shalt be out of this estate.

Tenthly and lastly : Let me ask thee one more question. If the wrath of God be to be made so light of as thou dost, why did the Son of God himself make so great a matter of it ? When he, who was perfectly inno'cent himself, had taken upon him the payment of our debt, and stood in our room, and bore that punishment that we had deserved, it makes him sweat forth water and blood ; it makes the Lord of life cry," My soul is heavy, even to the death ;" it makes him cry out upon the cross, " My God ! my God ! why hast thou forsaken me ?" Surely, if any one could have borne these sufferings easily, it would have been Jesus Christ. He had another measure of strength to bear it than thou hast.

And let me tell thee one thing, which every one understandeth not; thou wilt have sins of a more heinous nature and degree to suffer for, than ever w^ere laid upon Jesus Christ. For Christ suffered only for the breaches of the covenant of works, and not for the violation of the covenant of grace (properly so called, that is, not for the final non-performance of the conditions of this covenant). There was no man's final prevailing unbelief, impenitency^, or rejecting of Christ, that did lie upon Christ. Howsoever the aggravation of all men's sins might aggravate his burden, yet the punishment due to those sins particularly was not like the punishment which is due to thine. For as the first covenant gave not so great a reward, so neither did it threaten so great a penalty, as the latter doth. And the penalty w'hich the new covenant threateneth, Christ never underwent. So that the punishment which thou must suffer, is that which the apostle speaks of, " Of how much sorer punishment," &c. Heb. x. 29 ; and that fearful looking-for of judgment and fire, which devoureth the adversaries, Heb. vi. 8. Woe to poor sinners for their mad security ! Do they think to find it tolerable to them, which was so heavy to Christ ? Nay, the Son of God is cast into a bitter agony, and bloody sweat, and dolorous complaints, under the curse of the law alone ; and yet the feeble, foolish creature makes nothing to bear also the curse of the gospel. The good Lord bring these men to their right minds by repentance, lest they buy their wit at too dear a rate.

Sect. XL And thus I have showed you somewhat of their misery, who miss of this rest prepared for the saints. And now, reader, I demand thy resolution, what use thou M'ilt make of all this ? shall it all be lost to thee ; or, wilt thou, as thou art alone, consider of it in good earnest ? Thou hast cast by many a warning of God, wilt thou do so by this also ? Take heed what thou dost,

and how thou so rcsolvest. God will not always stand warnins^ and threatcMiing. The hand of n^venge is lifted up, the hlow is coniinsjf, and woe to him, whoever he he, on whom it lif^hteth ! I.ittle thinkcst thou how near thou standest to thy eternal state, and how near the pit thou art dancing in thy greatest jollity. If thy eyes were hut opened, as they will he shortly, thou wouldst see all this that I have spoken hefore thine eyes, without stirring from the place, I think, in which thou standest. Dost thou throw by the book, and say. It speaks of nothing but hell and damnation/ l^hus thou usest also to complain of the minister ; but wouldst thou not have us tell thee of these things !" Should we be guilty of the blood of thy soul, by keeping silent that which God hath charged us upon pain of death to make known ? Wouldst thou perish in ease and silence, and also have us to perish with thee, rather than to awake thee, or displease thee, by speaking the truth ? If thou wilt be guilty of such inhuman cruelty, yet God forbid we should be guilty of such most sottish folly ! There are few preachers so simple, but they know that this kind of preaching is the ready way to be hated of their hearers. And the desire of applause, and the favour of men, is so natural to all men, that I think there are few that delight in such a displeasing way. Our temptations to flattery and man-pleasing are too strong for that. But I beseech thee, consider, are these things true or are they not ? If they were not true, I would heartily join with thee against any minister that should offer to preach them, and to affright poor people when there is no cause ; and I should think such preachers did deserve death or banishment. But if every word of these threatenings be the words of God, and if they be as true as thou livest and readest this, what a wretch art thou that wouldst not hear it, or consider it! Why, what is the matter ? If thou be sure that thou art one of the people of God, this doctrine will be a comfort to thee, and not a terror; but if thou be yet carnal and unregenerate, methinks thou shouldst be as afraid to hear of heaven as of hell, except the bare name of heaven or salvation be sufficient. Sure there is no doctrine concerning heaven in all the Scripture that can give thee any comfort, but upon the supposal of thy conversion. What comfort is it to thee, to hear that there is a rest remaining to the people of God, except thou be one of them ? Nay, what more terrible, than to read of Christ and salvation for others, when thou must be shut out ? Therefore, except thou wouldst have a minister to preach a lie, it is all one to thee for any comfort thou hast in it, whether he preach of heaven or hell to thee. His preaching heaven and mercy to thee, can be nothing else but to entreat thee to seek them, and not neglect or reject them ; but he can make thee no promise of it, but upon the condition of thy obeying the gospel; and his preaching hell, is but to persuade thee to avoid it. And is not this doctiine fit for thee to hear? Indeed, if thou wert quite past hope of escaping it, then it were in vain to tell thee of hell, but rather let thee take a few merry hours whilst thou mayst; but, as long as thou art alive, there is some hope of thy recovery, and

therefore all means must be used to awake thee from thy lethargy. Oh that some Jonas had this point in hand, to cry in your ears, " Yet a few days, and the rebellious shall be destroyed;" till you were brought down on your knees in sackcloth and in ashes ! Oh if some John Baptist might cry it abroad, " Now is the axe laid to the root of the trees; every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, is hewn down and cast into the fire." Oh that some son of thunder, who could speak as Paul, till the hearers tremble, were now to preach this doctrine to thee! Alas ! as terribly as you think I speak, yet is it not the thousandth part of what must be felt; for what heart can now possibly conceive, or what tongue can express, the dolours of those souls that are under the wrath of God ? Ah, that ever blind sinners should wilfully bring themselves to such unspeakable misery ! You will then be crying to Jesus Christ, Oh, mercy ! oh, pity, pity on a poor soul! Why, I do now in the name of the Lord Jesus cry to thee. Oh, have mercy, have pity, man, upon thine own soul! Shall God pity thee, who wilt not be entreated to pity thyself? If thy horse see but a pit before him, thou canst scarcely force him in. Balaam's ass would not be driven upon the drawn sword; and wilt thou so obstinately cast thyself into hell, when the danger is foretold thee ? " Oh, who can stand before the Lord, and who can abide the fierceness of his anger ?" Nahum i. 6. Methinks thou shouldst need no more words, but presently cast away thy soul-damniiig sins, and wholly deliver up thyself to Christ. Resolve on it immediately, man, and let it be done, that I may see thy face in rest among the saints. The Lord persuade thy heart to strike this covenant without any longer delay; but if thou be hardened unto death, and there be no remedy, yet do not say another day, but that thou wast faithfully warned, and that thou hadst a friend that would fain have prevented thy damnation.

CHAPTER V.

THE SECOND USE, REPREHENDING THE GENERAL NEGLECT OF THIS REST, AND EXCITING TO DILIGENCE IN SEEKING IT.

Sect. I. I come now to the second use which I shall raise from this doctrine of rest. If there be so certain and glorious rest for the saints, why is there no more industrious seeking after it in the world ? One would think that a man that did but once hear of such unspeakable glory to be obtained, and did believe what he heareth to be true, should be transported with the vehemency of his desires after it, and should almost forget to eat or drink, and should mind and care for nothing else, and should speak of and inquire after nothing else, but how to get assurance and possession

of this treasure ! And yet people who hear it daily, and profess to helievo it undoubted, as a fundamental avtich; of their faith, do as little mind it, or care, or labour for it, and as nmch forget and disregard it, as if they had never heard of any such thing, or did not believe one word that they hear. And as a man that comes into America, and sees the natives regard more a piece of glass, or an old knife, than a piece of gold, may think. Sure these people never heard of the worth of gold, or else they would not exchange it for toys ; so a man that looked only upon the lives of most men, and did not hear their contrary confessions, would think either these men never hoard of heaven, or else they never heard of its excellency and glory : when, alas ! they hear of it till they are weary of hearing ; and it is offered to them so commonly, that they are tired with the tidings, and cry out as the Israelites, " Our soul is dried away, because there is nothing but this manna before our eyes," Numb. xi. G. And as the Indians, who live among the golden mines, do little regard it, but are weary of the daily toil of getting it, when other nations will compass the world, and venture their lives, and sail through storms and waves, to get it: so we that live where the gospel groweth, where heaven is urged upon us at our doors, and the manna falls upon our tents, do little regard it, and wish these mines of gold were further from us, that we might not be put upon the toil of getting it, when some that want it would be glad of it upon harder terms. Surely, though the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting, be the last article in their creed, it is not the least, nor therefore put last that it should be last in their desires and endeavours.

Sect. II. I shall apply this reproof more particularly yet to four several sorts of men. First, to the carnal, worldly-minded man, who is so taken up in seeking the things below, that he hath neither heart nor time to seek this rest.

May I not well say to these men, as Paul to the Galatians in another case, " Foolish sinners ! who hath bewitched you ?" It is not for nothing that divines use to call the world a witch ; for as in witchcraft, men's lives, senses, goods, or cattle are destroyed by a strange, secret, unseen power of the devil, of which a man can give no natural reason ; so here, men will destroy their own souls in a way quite against their own knowledge : and as witches will make a man dance naked, or do the most unseemly, unreasonable actions; so the world doth bewitch men into brute beasts, and draw them some degrees beyond madness. Would not any man wonder, that is in his right wit; and hath but the spiritual use of reason, to see what riding and running, what scrambling and catching, there is for a thing of nought, while eternal rest lies by neglected ! A\ hat contriving and caring, what fighting and bloodshed, to get a step higher in the world than their brethren, while they neglect the kingly dignity of the saints! What insatiable pursuit of fleshly pleasures, whilst they look upon the praises of God, which is the joy of angels, as a tiring burden ! What unwearied diligence is there in raising their posterity, in enlarging

their possessions, in gathering a Httle silvM- or gold ; yea, perhaps for a poor living from hand to mouth; while, in the mean time, their judgment is drawing near ; and yet how it shall go with them then, or how they shall live eternally, did never put them to the trouble of one hour's sober consideration. What rising early, and sitting up late, and labouring and caring, year after year, to maintain themselves and their children in credit till they die! But what shall follow after, that they never think on ; as if it were only their work to provide for their bodies, and only God's work to provide for their souls; whereas, God hath promised more to provide for their bodies without their care, than for their souls, though indeed they must painfully serve his providence for both; and yet these men cry to us, May not a man be saved without so much ado ? And may we not say, with more reason, to them. May not a man have a little air or earth, a little credit or wealth, without so much ado ? or, at least. May not a man have enough to bring him to his grave without so much ado ? How early do they rouse up their servants to their labour ! Up, come away to work, we have this to do, and that to do; but how seldom do they call them, Up, you have your souls to look to, you have everlasting life to provide for ; up to prayer, to the reading of the Scripture. Alas, how rare is this language ! What a gadding up and down the world is here, like a company of ants upon a hillock, taking uncessant pains to gather a treasure, which death, as the next passenger that comes by, will spurn abroad; as if it were such an excellent thing to die in the midst of wealth and honours ! or, as if it would be such ^ comfort to a man at death, or in another world, to think that he was a lord, or a knight, or a gentleman, or a rich man on earth! For my part, whatever these men may profess or say to the contrary, I cannot but strongly suspect that, in heart, they are flat pagans, and do not believe that there is an eternal glory and misery, nor what the Scripture speaks of the way of obtaining it; or, at least, that they do but a little believe it, by the halves, and therefore think to make sure of earth, lest there be no such tbing as heaven to be had ; and to hold fast that which they have in hand, lest if they let go that, in hope of better in another world, they should play the fools, and lose all. I fear, though the Christian faith be in their mouths, lest that this be the faith which is next their hearts ; or else the lust of their senses doth overcome and suspend their reason, and prevail with their wills against the last practical conclusion of their understanding. W^hat is the excellency of this earth, that it hath so many suitors and admirers ? what hath this world done for its lovers and friends, that it is so eagerly followed, and painfully sought after, while Christ and heaven stand by, and few regard them; or, what will the world do for them for the time to come ? The common entrance into it, is through anguish and sorrow. The passage through it, is with continual care, and labour, and grief. The passage out of it, is with the greatest sharpness and sadness of all. What, then, doth cause men so much to follow and aiFect it ? O sinful, unreasonable, bewitched men! will

Chap. V. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. -^rjO

mirth and pleasure stick close to you ; will gold and worldly glory prove fast friends to you in the time of your greatest need ; will they hoar your cries in the day of your calamity { If a man should say to you at the hour of your death, as Julias did to liaal's priests. *•' Cry aloud," &c. O riches, or honour, now help us ! will they either answer, or relieve you ; will they go along with you to another world, and brihe the Judge, and bring you oft' clear, or purchase you a room among the blessed I Why then did so rich a man want a drop of water for his tongue ? Or are the sweet morsels of present delight and honour of more w^orth than the eternal rest; and will they recompense the loss of that enduring treasure; can there be the least hope of any of these ? Why, what then is the matter; is it only a room for our dead bodies, that we are so much beholden to the world for ? why, this is the last and longest courtesy that we shall receive from it. But we shall have this, whether we serve it or no; and even that homely, dusty dwelling, it will not aftbrd us always neither: it shall possess our dust but till the great resurrection day. Why, how then doth the world deserve so well at men's hands, that they should part with Christ and their salvation to be its followers? Ah, vile, deceitful worldi how oft have we heard thy faithfullest servants at last complaining, Oh, the world hath deceived me, and undone me ! it flattered me in my prosperity, but now it turns me off" at death in my necessity! Ah, if I had as faithfully served Christ as I have served it, he would not thus have cast me off, nor have left me thus comfortless and hopeless in the depth of misery ! Thus do the dearest friends and favourites of the world complain at last of its deceit, or rather of their own self-deluding folly, and yet succeeding sinners will take no warning. 80 this is the first sort of neglecters of heaven which fall under this reproof.

Sect. III. 2. The second sort here to be reproved are, the profane, ungodly, presumptuous multitude, who will not be persuaded to be at so much pains for salvation as to perform the conmion, outward duties of religion : yea, though they are convinced that these duties are commanded by God, and see it before their eyes in the Scripture, yet will they not be brought to the constant practice of them. If they have the gospel preached in the town where they dwell, it may be they will give the hearing to it one part of the day, and stay at home the other; or if the master come to the congregation, yet part of his family must stay at home. If they want the plain and powerful preaching of the gospel, how few are they in a whole town that will either be at cost or pains to procure a minister, or travel a mile or two to hear abroad, though they will go many miles to the market for provisions for their bodies ! The queen of the south shall rise up in judgment with this generation, and condemn them ; for she came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and behold a greater than Solomon doth, by his messengers, preach to them. The king of Nineveh shall rise up in judgment with them, and shall condemn them, for he repented at the preaching of Jonas; but when Jesus .s 2

Christ sendeth his ambassadors to these men, they will scarce go to hear them, Matt. xii. 41, 42. And though they know that the Scripture is the very law of God, by which they must live, and by which they must be acquit or condemned in judgment; and that it is the property of every blessed man to delight in this law, and to meditate in it day and night, Psal. i. 2; yet will they not be at the pains to read a chapter once in a day, nor to acquaint their families with this doctrine of salvation. 13ut if they carry a Bible to church, and let it lie by them all the week*, this is the most use that they make of it. And though they are commanded to pray without ceasing, 1 Thess. v. 17 ; and to pray always, and not to wax faint, Luke xviii. 1—3, &c.; to continue in prayer, and watch in the same with thanksgiving, Col. iv. 2 ; yet will they not be brought to pray constantly with their families or in secret. Though Daniel would rather be cast to the lions than he would forbear for a while praying openly in his house, where his enemies might hear him thre£ times a day; yet these men will rather venture to be an eternal prey to that roaring lion that seeks to devour them, than they will be at the pains thus to seek their safety. You may hear, in their houses, two oaths for one prayer; or if they do any thing this way, it is usually but a running over a few formal words which they have got on their tongue's end, as if they came on purpose to make a jest of prayer, and to mock God and their own soul. If they be in distress, or want any thing for their bodies, they want no words to make known their mind; but to a physician when they are sick, to a griping landlord when they are oppressed, to a wealthy friend when they are in want, they can lay open their case in sad complaints, and have words at will to press home their requests; yea, every beggar at their door can crave relief, and make it their daily practice ; and hold on with importunity, and take no denial: necessity filleth their mouths with words, and teacheth them the most natural, prevailing rhetoric. These beggars will rise up in judgment against them, and condemn them. Doubtless, if they felt but the misery and necessities of their souls, they would be as forward to beg relief of God, and as frequent, as fervent, as importunate, and as constant, till they were past their straits ; but, alas! he that only reads in a book that he is miserable, and what his soul stands in need of, but never felt himself miserable, nor felt particularly his several wants, no wonder if he must also fetch his prayer from his book only, or, at furthest, from the strength of his invention or memory. Solomon' s request to God was, that what prayer or supplication soever should be made by any man, or by all the people, when every man shall know his own sore, and his own grief, and shall spread forth his hands before God, that God would then hear and forgive, &c. 2 Chron. vi. 29, 30. If these men did thus know and feel every one the sore and the grief of his own soul, we should neither need so much to urge them to prayer, nor to teach them how to perform it, and what to say: whereas now they do invite God to be backward in giving by their backwardness in asking, and to be weary of relieving them by their own being weary of begging,

and to be seldom and short in his favours as they are in their prayers, and to give them but common and outward favours, as they put up but common and outside requests. Yea, their cold and heartless prayers do invite God to a flat denial : for among men it is taken for granted, that he who asks but slightly and seldom, cares not much for what he asks. Do not these men judge themselves unworthy of heaven, who think it not worth their more constant and earnest requests ? If it be not worth asking for, it is worth nothing; and yet if one should go from house to house, through town and parish, and inquire at every house as you go, whether they do morning and evening call their family together, and eai'nestly and reverently seek the Lord in prayer, how few would you find that constantly and conscionably practise this duty ! If every door were marked where they do not thus call upon the name of God, that his wrath might be poured out upon that family, our towns would be as places overthrown by the plague, the people being dead within, and the mark of judgment on the door without. I fear, where one house would escape, there are ten would be marked out for death; and then they might teach their doors to pray. Lord, have mercy upon us ! because the people would not pray themselves. But especially if you could see what men do in their secret chambers, how few should you find in a whole town that spend one quarter of an hour, morning and night, in earnest supplication to God for their souls ! Oh ! how little do these men set by this eternal rest ! Thus do they slothfully neglect all endeavours for their own welfare, except some public duty in the congregations, which custom or credit doth engage them to. Persuade them to read good books, and they will not be at so much pains. Persuade them to learn the grounds of religion in some catechism, and they think it a toilsome slavery, fitter for school-boys, or little children, than for them. Persuade them to sanctify the Lord's day in holy exercise, and to spend it wholly in hearing the word, and repeating it with their families, and prayer and meditation, &c. and to forbear all their worldly thoughts and speeches ; and what a tedious life do they take this to be ! and how long may you preach to them before they will be brought to it, as if they thought that heaven were not worth all this ado ! Christ hath been pleading with England these fourscore years and more, by the word of his gospel, for his worship and his sabbaths, and yet the inhabitants are not persuaded; nay, he hath been pleading these six years, by threatenings, and fire, and sword, and yet can prevail but with very few. And though these bloody arguments have been spread abroad, and brought home to people from parish to parish, almost as far as the word hath gone, so that there is scarce a parish in many counties where blood hath not been shed, and the bodies of the slain have not been left, yet nmltitudes in England are no more persuaded than they were the first day of their warning ; and they have not heard the voice of the rod, which hath cried up and down their streets : Yet, O England, will ye not sanctify my sabbaths, nor call upon my name, nor regard my word, nor turn from your worldliness and

wickedness ! God hath given them a lash and a reproof, a wound and warning; he hath, as it were, stood in their blood, with the sword in his hand, and among the heaps of the slain hath he pleaded with the living, and said. What say you? Will you yet worship me, and fear me, and take me for your Lord ? And yet they will not : alas ! yet to this day England will not! Let me here write it, and leave it upon record, that God may he justified, and England may be ashamed ; and posterity may know, if God do spare us, how ill we deserved it; or, if he yet destroy us, how wilfully we procured it. And if they that pass by shall ask. Why has God done tnus to a flourishing and prosperous land ? you may give them this true though doleful answer, They would not hear, they would not regard. He smote them down, he wounded them, he hewed them as wood, and then he beseeched the remainder to consider and return, but they never would do it. They were w^eary of his ways ; they polluted his sabbaths; they cast his word and worship out of their families; they would not be at the pains to learn and obey his will; nay, they abhorred his ministers, and servants, and holy paths, and all this to the last breath. When he had slain five thousand or eight thousand at a fight, the rest did no more reform, than if they had never heard of it. Nay, such a spirit of slumber has fallen upon them, that if God should proceed, and kill them all save one man, and ask that one man, W^ilt thou yet seek me with all thy heart ? he would rather slight it. Lord, have mercy on us ! What is done with men's understanding and sense ? Have they renounced reason as well as faith ? Are they dead naturally as well as spiritually ? Can they not hear nor feel, though they cannot believe ? That sad judgment is fallen upon them, mentioned in Isaiah, xlii. 24, 25, " W ho gave Jacob for a spoil, and Israel" (England) " to the robbers .'' Did not the Lord, he against whom we have sinned ? For they would not walk in his ways, neither were they obedient to his laws. Therefore he hath poured upon them the fury of his anger, and the strength of battle, and it hath set them on fire round about, yet they knew it not; it burned them, yet they laid it not to heart." Yea, this much more let us leave upon record against England: they have been so far from reforming, and taking up the worship of God with delight, after all this, that multitudes have contrarily abhorred it at the very heart; and to root out the sincere worshippers and worship of God, is their continued endeavour: and still, they that succeed them do the like. Lord, how hast thou deserved so much ill at these men's hands ? What harm hath praying, and reading, and preaching painfully, and sanctifying the sabbath, and fearing to offend, done to England ? Have they suffered for these, or for their enmity to these ? What evil do these wretches discern in the everlasting kingdom, that they do not only refuse to labour for it, but do detest and resist the holy way that leads to it ? It is well for them that they live in gospel times, when the patience of God doth wait on sinners ; and not in those severe days, when fire from heaven destroyed the captains and their companies, that were com-

inanded by the king (o bring bnt one prophet before him ; or, when the lions destroyed forty-two chikh-en, for calHng a prophet of Ciod " bald-head:" or rather, it had been better for these men to have lived in those times, that though their temporal judgments had been greater, yet their eternal plagues might have been tlie less. Yet this much more let me leave upon record to the shame of many, that all this is not merely through idleness, because they will not be at the pains to serve God, but it is out of a bitter enmity to his word and ways ; for they will be at more pains than this in any way that is evil, or in any worship truly so called, of man's devising. They are as zealous for these, as if eternal life consisted in them : and where God forbids them, there they are as forward as if they could never do enough ; and where God commands them, they are as backward to it, yea, as much against it, as if they were the commands of the devil himself. The Lord grant that this hardened, wilful, malicious people, fall not under that heavy doom, '' But those mine enemies, w hich woiild not that I should reign over them, bring them hither, and slay them before me," Luke xix. 27.

Sect. IV. 3. The third sort that fall under this reproof, are those self-cozening, formal, lazy professors of religion, who will be brought to any outward duty, and lake up the easier part of Christianity; but to the inward work, and more difficult part, they will never be persuaded. They will preach, or hear, or read, or talk of heaven, or pray customarily and constantly in their families, and take part with the persons and causes that are good, and desire to be esteemed among the godly, but you can never bring them to the more spiritual and difficult duties, as to be constant and fervent in secret prayer, to be conscionable in the duty of self-examination, to be constant in that excellent duty of meditation, to be heavenly-minded, to watch constantly over his heart, words, and ways, to deny his bodily senses their delights, to mortify the flesh, and not make provision for it to fulfil its lusts, to love and heartily forgive an enemy, to prefer his brethren heartily before himself, and to think meanly of his own gifts and worth, and to take it well of others that think so too, and to love them that have low thoughts of him as well as those that have high, to bear easily the injuries or undervaluing words of others against him ; to lay all that he hath at the feet of Christ, and to prefer his service and favour before all; to prepare to die, and willingly to leave all to come to Christ, &c. The outside hypocrites will never be persuaded to any of these. Above all other, two notable sorts there are of these hypocrites. First, The superficial, opinionative hypocrite. Secondly, The worklly hypocrite. First, The former entertaineth the doctrine of the gospel with joy, Matt. xiii. 29, but it is only into the surface of his soul, he never gives the seed any depth of earth. He changeth his opinion, and he thereupon engageth for religion as the right way, and sides with it as a party in a faction, but it never melted and new-moulded his heart, nor set up Christ there in full power and authority; but as his religion lies most in his opinion, so he usually runs from opinion to opinion, and is carried up and down

with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness whereby they lie in wait to deceive ; and, as a child, is tossed to and fro, Eph. iv. 14 : for as his religion is but opinion, so is his study, and conference, and chief business all about opinion. He is usually an ignorant, proud, bold, irreverent inquirer and babbler about controversies, rather than a humble embracer of the known truth, with love and subjection : you may conjecture by his bold and forward tongue, and groundless conceitedness in his own opinions, and slighting of the judgments and persons of others, and seldom talking of the great things of Christ with seriousness and humility, that his religion dwelleth in the brain, and not in his heart: where the wind of temptation assaults him, he easily yield-eth, and it carrieth him away as a feather, because his heart is empty, and not balanced and established with Christ and grace. If the temptation of the times do assault men's understandings, and the sign be in the head, though the little religion that he hath lies there, yet a hundred to one but he turneth heretic, or catcheth the vertigo of some lesser errors, according to the nature and strength of the seducement. If the wind do better serve for a vicious conversation, a hundred to one but he turns a purveyor for the flesh, and then he can be a tippler, and yet religious; a gamester, a wanton, a neglecter of duties, and yet religious. If this man's judgment lead him in the ceremonious way. then doth he employ his chiefest zeal for ceremonies, as if his religion lay in them. If his judgment be against ceremonies, then his strongest zeal is employed against them, studying, talking, disputing against them, censuring the users of them, and perhaps fall into a contrary extreme, placing his chief religion in anabaptism, church combinations, and forms of polity, &c. For not having his soul taken up with the essentials of Christianity, he hath only the mint and cummin, the smaller matters of the law, to lay out his zeal upon. You shall never hear in private conference any humble and hearty be-wailings of his soul's imperfections, or any heart-bleeding acknowledgments of his unkindnesses to Christ, of any pantings and longings after him, from this man ; but that he is of such a judgment, or such a religion, or party, or society, or a member of such a church. Hence doth he gather his greatest comforts; but the inward and spiritual labours of a Christian, he will not be brought to.

Secondly : The like may be said of the worldly hypocrite, who choketh the doctrine of the gospel with the thorns of worldly cares and desires. His judgment is convinced that he must be religious, or he cannot be saved; and therefore he reads, and hears, and prays, and forsakes his former company and courses : but because his belief of the gospel doctrine is but wavering and shallow, he resolves to keep his hold of present things, lest the promise of rest should fail him ; and yet to be religious, that so he may have heaven, when he can keep the world no longer, thinking it wisdom to have two strings to his bow, lest one should break. This man's judgment may say, God is the chief Ciood, but his heart and affec-.

tions never said so, but look upon God as a kind of strange and disproportionate happiness, to be tolerated rather than tlie flames of hell, but not desired before the felicity on earth. In a word, the world hath more of his affections than God, and therefore is his god, and his covetousness idolatry. This he might easily know and feel if he would judge impartially, and were but faithful to himself. And though this man do not gad after opinions and novelties in his religion, as the former, yet will he set his sails to the wind of worldly advantage, and be of that opinion which will best serve his turn. And as a man whose spirits are seized on by some pestilential malignity, is feeble and faint and heartless in all that he does ; so this man's spirits being possessed by the plague of this malignant, worldly disposition, oh how faint is he in secret prayer ! oh how superficial in examination and meditation ! how feeble in heart-watchings, and humbling, mortifying endeavours ! how nothing at all in loving and walking with God, rejoicing in him, or desiring after him ! So that both these and many other sorts of lazy hypocrites there are, who, though they will trudge on with you in the easy outside of religion, yet will never be at the pains of inward and spiritual duties.

Sect. V. 4. And even the godly themselves deserve this reproof, for being too lazy seekers of their everlasting rest. Alas ! what a disproportion is there betwixt our light and our heat, our professions and prosecution ! Who makes that haste, as if it were for heaven ? How still we stand ! How idly we work 1 How we talk, and jest, and trifle away our time ! How deceitfully we do the work of God ! How we hear as if we heard not; and pray as if we prayed not ; and confer, and examine, and meditate, and reprove sin, as if we did it not; and use the ordinances, as if we used them not; and enjoy Christ, as if we enjoyed him not; as if we had learned to use the things of heaven as the apostle teacheth us to use the w^orld ! 1 Cor. vii, 29—31. Who would thmk, that stood by us and heard us pray in private or public, that we were praying for no less than everlasting glory ? Should heaven be sought no more eariaestly than thus ? Methinks we are none of us all in good sadness for our souls. We do but dally with the work of God, and play with Christ : as children, we play with our meat when we should eat it, and we play with our clothes, and look upon them, when we should put them on, and wear them : w'e hang upon ordinances from day to day, but we stir not ourselves to seek the Lord. I see a great many very constant in hearing and praying, and give us some hopes that their hearts are honest, but they do not hear and pray as if it were for their lives. Oh what a frozen stupidity hath benumbed us ! The judgment of Pharaoh is amongst us; we are turned into stones and rocks, that can neither feel nor stir. The plague of Lot's wife is upon us, as if we were changed into lifeless and immovable pillars : we are dying, and we know it, and yet we stir not ; we are at the door of eternal happiness or misery, and yet we perceive it not; death knocks, and we hear it not; Christ calls and knocks, and we hear it not : God cries to

us, " To-day if you will hear my voice, harden not your hearts. Work while it is day, for the night cometh when none shall work." Now ply your business, now labour for your lives, now lay out all your strength and time, now do it, now or never; and yet we stir no more than if we were half asleep. What haste doth death and judgment make ! How fast do they come on ! They are almost at us, and yet what little haste make we ! What haste makes the sword to devour, from one part of the land to another ! what haste doth plague and famine make ! and all because we will not make haste. The spur of God is in our side ; we bleed, we groan, and yet we do not mend our pace : the rod is on our backs, it speaks to the quick ; our lashes are heard through the Christian world, and yet we stir no faster than before. Lord, what a senseless, sottish, earthly, hellish thing is a hard heart ! that we will not go roundly and cheerfully toward heaven without all this ado ; no, nor with it neither. Where is the man that is serious in his Christianity ? Methinks men do every where make but a trifle of their eternal state. They look after it but a little upon the bye ; they do not make it the task and business of their lives. To be plain with you, I think nothing undoes men so much as complimenting and jesting in religion. Oh, if I were not sick myself of the same disease, with what tears should I mix this ink ; and with what groans should I express these sad complaints; and with what heart's grief should I mourn over this universal dead-ness! Do the magistrates among us seriously perform their portion of the work? Are they zealous for God; do they build up his house; and are they tender of his honour ? do they second the word; and encourage the godly ; and relieve the oppressed ; and compassionate the distressed ; and let fly at the face of sin and sinners, as being the disturbers of our peace, and the only cause of all our miseries ? Do they study how to do the utmost that they can for God ; to improve their power, and parts, and wealth, and honour, and all their interests, for the greatest advantage to the kingdom of Christ, as men that must shortly give an account of their stewardship ? Or do they build their own houses, and seek their advancements, and stand upon, and contest for, their own honours ; and do no more for Christ than needs they must, or than lies in their way, or than is put by others into their hands, or than stands with the pleasing of their friends, or with their worldly interest. Which of these two courses do they take ? And how thin are those ministers that are serious in their work ! Nay, how mightily do the very best fail in this above all things ! Do we cry out of men's disobedience to the gospel (Isa. Iviii. 1 ; Jude 23; 2 Cor. v. 11), in the evidence and power of the Spirit, and deal with sin as that which is the fire in our towns and houses, and by force pull men out of this fire ? Do we persuade our people, as those that know the terrors of the Lord should do ? Do we press Christ, and regeneration, and faith, and holiness, as men that believe indeed that without these they shall never have life ? (Matt. ix. 36.) Do our bowels yearn over the ignorant, and the

careless, and the obstinate nuiltitiulo, and men that believe their own doctrine ? that our dear people nuist be eternally damned, if they be not timely recovered { When we look them in the faces, do our hearts melt over them, lest we should never see their faces in rest t Do we, as Paul, tell them, weeping, of their fleshly and earthly disposition, Phil, iii, IS, 10; and teach them publicly, and from house to house, night and day with tears, Acts xx. 20, 21 ; and do we entreat them as if it were indeed for their lives and salvation, that when we speak of the joys and miseries of another world, our people may see us affected accordingly, and perceive that we do indeed mean as we speak ? Or rather do we not study words, and neat expressions, that we may approve ourselves able men in the judgment of critical hearers; and speak so formally and heartlessly of eternity, that our people can scarcely think that we believe ourselves ; or put our tongues into some affected pace, and our language into some forced oratorical strain, as if a minister's business were of no more weight, but to tell them a smooth tale of an hour long, and so look no more after them till the next sermon ? Seldom do we fit our sermons, either for matter or manner, to the great end, our people's salvation ; but we sacrifice our studies to our own credit, or our people's content, or some such base, inferior end. Carnal discretion doth control our fervency; it maketh our sermons like beautiful pictures, which have nmch pains and cost bestowed upon them to make them comely and desirable to the eye ; but life, or heat, or motion, there is none. Surely, as such a conversation is a hypocritical conversation, so such a sermon is as truly a hypocritical sermon. Oh the formal, frozen, lifeless sermons which we daily hear preached upon the most weighty, piercing subjects in the world! How gently do we handle those sins which will handle so cruelly our people's souls; and how tenderly do we deal with their careless hearts, not speaking to them as to men that must be weakened or damned ! We tell them of heaven and hell in such a sleepy tone, and flighty way, as if we were but acting a part in a play ; so that we usually preach our people asleep with those subjects, which one would think should rather endanger the driving of some beside themselves, if they were faithfully delivered. Not that I commend or excuse that real indiscretion, and unseemly language, and nauseous repetitions, and ridiculous gestures, whereby many do disgrace the word of God, and bring his ordinances into contempt with the people; nor think it fit that he should be an ambassador from God on so weighty a business, that is not able to speak sense or reason. But, in a word, our want of seriousness about the things of heaven, doth charm the souls of men into formality, and hath brought them to this customary careless hearing, wdiich undoes them. The Lord pardon the great sin of the ministry in this thing, and, in particular, my own!

And are the people any more serious than magistrates and ministers i How can it be expected? Reader, look but to thyself, and resolve the question. Ask conscience, and suffer it to tell thee

truly. Hast thou set thine eternal rest before thine eyes, as the great business which thou hast to do in this world ? Hast thou studied and cared, watched and laboured, and laid about thee with all thy might, lest any should take thy crown from thee ? Hast thou made haste, lest thou shouldst come too late, and die before the work be done ? Hath thy heart been set upon it, and thy desires and thoughts run out this way ? Hast thou pressed on through crowds of opposition towards the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus, still reaching forth unto those things which are before? Mark vi. 21; Phil. iii. 13, 14. When you have set your hand to the work of God, have you done it with all your might? Eccles. ix. 10. Can conscience witness your secret cries, and groans, and tears ? Can your families witness that you have taught them the fear of the Lord, and warned them all with earnestness and unweariedness to remember God and their souls, and to provide for everlasting life ? or that you have done but as much for them, as that damned glutton would have had Lazarus do for his brethren on earth, to warn them that they come not to that place of torment? Can your ministers witness that they have heard you cry out. What shall we do to be saved ? and that you have followed them with complaints against your corruptions, and with earnest inquiries after the Lord ? Can your neighbours about you witness, that you are still learning of them that are able to instruct you ? and that you plainly and roundly reprove the ungodly, and take pains for the saving of your brethren's souls ? Let all these witnesses judge this day between God and you, whether you are in good earnest about the affairs of eternal rest. But if yet you cannot discern your neglects, look but to yourselves, within you, to the work you have done : you can tell by his work, whether your servant hath loitered, though you did not see him ; so you may by yourselves. Is your love to Christ, yom- faith, your zeal, and other graces, strong or weak ? What are your joys; what is your assurance ? Is all right, and strong, and in order within you ? Are you ready to die, if this should be the day ? Do the souls among whom you have conversed, bless you ? Why, judge by this, and it will quickly appear whether you have been labourers or loiterers.

O blessed rest, how unworthily art thou neglected! O glorious kingdom, how art thou undervalued! Little know the careless sons of men, what a state they set so light by ! If they once knew it, they would sure be of another mind.

CHAPTER VI.

AN EXHORTATION TO SERIOUSNESS IN SEEKING REST.

I HOPE, reader, by this time thou art somewhat sensible, what a desperate thing it is to trifle about our eternal rest; and how

deeply thou hast been guilty of this thyself. And I hope, also, that thou darest not now sutler this conviction to die ; but art resolved to be another man for the time to come : what sayest thou, is this thy resolution.'' If thou wert sick of some desperate disease, and the physician should tell thee. If you will observe but one thing, I doubt not to cure you, wouldst thou not observe it? Why, if thou wilt observe but this one thing for thy soul, I make no doubt of thy salvation : if thou wilt now but shake off thy sloth, and put to all thy strength, and ply the work of God unweariedly, and l)e a downright Christian; I know not what can hinder thy happiness. As far as thou art gone from God, if thou wouldst but now return and seek him with all thy heart, no doubt but thou shalt ilnd him^As unkindly as thou hast dealt with Jesus Christ, if thou didst but feel thyself sick and dead, and seek him heartily, and apply thyself ia good earnest to the obedience of his laws, thy salvation were as sure as if thou hadst it already ; but as full as the satisfaction of Christ is, as free as the promise is, as large as the mercy of God is, yet if thou do but look on these, and talk of them, when thou shouldst greedily entertain them, thou wilt be never the better for them ; and if thou loiter when thou shouldst labour, thou wilt lose the crown. O, fall to work then speedily and seriously, and bless God that thou hast yet time to do it; and though that which is past cannot be recalled, yet redeem the time now by doubling thy diligence. And because thou shalt see I urge thee not without cause, I will here adjoin a multitude of considerations to move thee ; yet do I not here desire thee to take them by number, but by weight: their intent and use is, to drive thee from delaying and from loitering in seeking rest; and to all men do I propound them, both godly and ungodly : whoever thou art, therefore, I entreat thee to rouse up thy spirit, and read them deliberately, and give me a little while thy attention, as to a message from God; and, as Moses said to the people, " Set thy heart to all the words that I testify to thee this day ; for it is not a vain thing, but it is for thy life," Deut. xxxii. 46. Weigh what I here write with the judgment of a man; and if I speak not reason, throw it back in my face ; but if I do, see thou entertain and obey it accordingly : and the Lord open thy heart, and fasten his counsel effectually upon thee.^

Sect. II. 1. Consider, Our affections and actions should be somewhat answerable to the greatness of the ends to which they are intended. Now the ends of a Christian's desires and endeavours are so great, that no human understanding on earth can comprehend them ; whether you respect their proper excellency, their exceeding importance, or their absolute necessity.

These ends are, the glorifying of God, the salvation of our own and other men's souls, in our escaping the torments of hell, and possessing the glory of heaven. And can a man I)e too much affected with things of such moment { Can he desire them too earnestly, or love them too violently, or labour for them too diligently ? When we know that if our prayers prevail not, and our

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270 THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. Part III.

labour succeeds not, we are undone for ever, I think it concerns us to seek and labour to the purpose. When it is put to the question, "Whether we shall live for ever in heaven or in hell ? and the question must be resolved upon our obeying the gospel or our disobeying it, upon the painfulness or the slothfulness of our present endeavours ; I think it is time for us to bestir ourselves, and to leave our trifling and complimenting with God.

Sect. III. 2. Consider, Our diligence should be somewhat answerable to the greatness of the work which we have to do, as well as to the ends of it. Now the works of a Christian here, are very many, and very great: the soul must be renewed ; many and great corruptions must be mortified ; custom, and temptations, and worldly interests, must be conquered; flesh must be mastered ; self must be denied; life, and friends, and credit, and all must be slighted; conscience must be upon good grounds quieted; assurance of pardon and salvation must be attained. And though it is God that must give us these, and that freely, without our own merit; yet will he not give them so freely, as without our earnest .seeking and labour. Besides, there is a deal of knowledge to be got, for the guiding ourselves, for the defending of the truth, for the direction of others, and a deal of skill for the right managing of our parts : many ordinances are to be used, and duties performed, ordinary and extraordinary ; every age, and year, and clay, cloth require fresh succession of duty; every place we come in, every person that we have to deal with, every change of our condition, doth still require the renewing of our labour, and bringeth duty along with it; wives, children, servants, neighbours, friends, enemies, all of them call for duty from us ; and all this of great importance too; so that for the most of it, if we miscarry in it, it would prove our undoing.

Judge, then, yourselves, whether men that have so much business lying upon their hands, should not bestir them; and whether it be their wisdom either to delay, or to loiter ?

Sect. IV. 3. Consider, Our diligence should be somewhat quickened, because of the shortness and uncertainty of the time allotted us for the performing of all this work, and the many and great impediments which we meet with. Yet a few days, and we shall be here no more. Time passeth on : many hundred diseases are ready to assault us : we that now are preaching, and hearing, and talking, and walking, must very shortly be carried on men's shoulders, and laid in the dust, and there left to the worms in darkness and corruption ; we are almost there already ; it is but a few days, or months, or years, and what is that when once they are past ? We know not whether we shall have another sermon, or sabbath, or hour. How then should those men bestir them for their everlasting rest, who know they have so short a space for so great a work! Besides, every step in the Avay hath its difficulties; the gate is strait, and the way narrow ; the righteous themselves are scarcely saved; scandals and discouragements will be still cast before us : and can all these be overcome by slothful endeavours ?

Sect. V. 4. Moreover, our diligence should be somewhat answerable to the diligence ot" our enemies in seeking our destruction. For if we sit still while they are plotting and labouring; or if we be lazy in our defence, while they are diligent in assaulting us ; you may easily conceive how we are likely to speed. How diligent is Satan in all kinds of temptations! therefore, " 13e sober and vigilant, because your adversary the devil as a roaring lion walketh about, seeking whom he may devour; whom resist stedfast in the faith," 1 Pet. v. 8. How diligent are the ministers of Satan ! false teachers, scorners at godliness, malicious persecutors, all unwearied ; and our inward corruption the most busy and diligent of all ; whatever we are about, it is still resisting us; depraving our duties, perverting our thoughts, dulling our aft'ections to good, exciting them to evil; and will a feeble resistance then serve our turn .' Should not we be more active for our own preservation, than our enemies for our ruin ? ., -

Sect. VI. 5. Our affections and endeavours should bear some proportion to the talents which we have received, and means which we have enjoyed. It may well be expected that a horseman shall go faster than a footman ; and he that hath a swift horse, faster than he that hath a slow one : more work will be expected from a sound man, than from the sick; and from a man at age, than from a child : and to whom men commit much, from them they will expect the more, Luke xii. 48. Now the talents which we have received are many and great; the means which we have enjoyed are very much, and very precious. What people breathing on earth, have had plainer instructions, or more forcible persuasions, or constant admonitions, in season and out of season ? sermons, till we have been weary of them ; and sabbaths, till we profaned them : excellent books in such plenty, that we knew not which to read ; but loathing them through abundance, have thrown by all. "What people have had God so near them, as we have had; or have seen Christ, as it w'ere, crucified before their eyes, as we have done ? What people have had heaven and hell, as it were, opened unto them, as we ! scarce a day wherein we have not had some spur to put us on. What speed then should such a people make for heaven; and how should they fly that are thus winged ; and how swiftly should they sail that have wind and tide to help them ! Believe it, brethren, God looks for more from England, than from most nations in the world; and for more from you that enjoy these helps, than from the dark, untaught congregations of the land. A small measure of grace beseems not such a people ; nor will an ordinary diligence in the work of God excuse them.

Sect. VII. 6. The vigour of our affections and actions should be somewhat answerable to the great cost bestowed upon us, and to the deep engaging mercies which we have received from God. Surely we owe more service to our master from whom we have our maintenance, than we do to a stranger to whom we were never beholden. Oh the cost that God hath been at for our sakes ! the riches of sea and land, of heaven and earth, hath he poured out

unto us ! All our lives have been filled up with mercies : we cannot look back upon one hour of it, or one passage in it, but we may behold mercy. AVe feed upon mercy, we wear mercy on our backs, we tread upon mercy; mercy within us, common and special; mercy without us, for this life, and for that to come. Oh the rare deliverances that we have partaken of, both national and personal! How oft, how seasonably, how fully have our prayers been heard, and our fears removed ! what large catalogues of particular mercies can every Christian draw forth and rehearse ! To offer to number them, would be an endless task, as to number the stars, or the sands of the shore. If there be any difference betwixt hell, where we should have been, and earth, where we now are, yea, or heaven, which is offered us, then certainly we have received mercy. Yea, if the blood of the Son of God be mercy, then are we engaged to God by mercy; for so much did it cost him to recover us to himself. And should a people of such deep engagements be lazy in their returns ? shall God think nothing too much nor too good for us; and shall we think all too much that we do for him .'' Thou that art an observing, sensible man, who knowest how much thou art beholden to God; I appeal to thee, is not a loitering performance of a few heartless duties, an unworthy requital of such admirable kindness ? For my own part, when I compare my slow and unprofitable life, with the frequent and wonderful mercies received, it shames me, it silenceth me, and leaves me unexcusable.

Sect. VIII. 7. Again, consider. All the relations which we stand in toward God, whether common or special, do call upon us for our utmost diligence. Should not the pot be wholly at the service of the potter, and the creature at the service of his great Creator? are we his children, and do we not owe him our most tender affections and dutiful obedience ? are we the spouse of Christ, and do we not owe him our observance and our love ? " If he be our Father, where is his honour; and if he be our Master, where is his fear?" Mai. i. 6. "We call him Lord and Master, and we do well," John xiii. 13; but if our industry be not answerable to our assumed relations, we condemn ourselves, in saying we are his children, or his servants. How will the hard labour and daily toil that servants undergo to please their masters, judge and condemn those men who will not labour so hard for their great Master! Surely there is none have a better or more honourable Master than we, nor can any expect such fruit of their labours, 1 Cor. xv. tdt.

Sect. IX. 8. Consider, What haste should they make who have such rods at their backs, as be at ours ; and how painfully should they work, who are still driven on by such sharp afflictions ! if either we wander out of the way, or loiter in it, how surely do we prepare for our own smart! Every creature is ready to be God's rod to reduce us, or to put us on : our sweetest mercies will become our sorrows ; or, rather than he will want a rod, the Lord will make us a scourge to ourselves ; our diseased bodies shall make us groan; our perplexed minds shall make us restless; our conscience shall be as a scorpion in our bosom. And is it not easier to endure the

liibour than the spur ? had we nvthor be still thus afflicted, than to l)e up and going i Alas ! how like are we to tired horses, that will lie down and groan, or stand still, and let you lay on them as long as you will, rather than they will freely travel on their journey ! And thus we make our own lives miserable, and necessitMe God, if he love us, to chastise us. It is true, those who do most, do meet with afflictions also : but surely, according to the measure of their peace of conscience, and faithfulness to Christ, so is the bitterness of their cup, for the most part, abated.

Sect. X. 9. How close should they ply their work, who have such great preparations attending them as we have 1 All the worki are our servants, that we may be the servants of God. The sun, and moon, and stars, attend us with their light and influence ; the earth, with all its furniture, is at our service. How many thousand plants, and flowers, and fruits, and birds, and beasts, do all attend us ! The sea, with its inhabitants; the air, the wind, the frost and snow, the heat and fire, the clouds and rain, all wait upon us while we do our work ; yea, the angels are ministering spirits for the service of the elect: and is it not an intolerable crime for us to trifle, while all these are employed to assist us ? Nay more, the patience and goodness of God do wait upon us ; the Lord Jesus waiteth in the offers of his blood ; the Holy Ghost waiteth in striving with our backward hearts ; besides all his servants, the ministers of his gospel, who study and wait, and preach and wait, and pray and wait, upon careless sinners: and shall angels and men, yea, the Lord himself, stand by and look on, and, as it were, hold thee the candle while thou dost nothing? O Christians, I beseech you, whenever you are upon your knees in prayer, or reproving the transgressors, or exhorting the obstinate, or upon any duty, do but remember w hat attendants you have for this work ; and then judge how it behoves you to perform it.

Sect. XI, 10. Should not our affections and endeavours be answerable to the acknowledged principles of our Christian profession? Sure, if we are Christians indeed, and mean as we speak, when we profess the faith of Christ, we shall show it in afl'ections and actions, as well as expressions. Why, the very fundamental doctrines of our religion are : That God is the chief Good, and all our happiness consists in his love ; and, therefore, it should be valued and sought above all things : that he is our only Lord, and, therefore, chiefly to be served; that we must love him with all our heart, and soul, and strength ; that the very business that men have in the world, and the only errand that God sent them about, is to glorify God, and to obtain salvation, &c. And do men's duties aiitl conversation second this profession ? Are these doctrines seen in the painfulness of men's practice ? or rather do not their works deny what their words do confess ? One would think, by men's actions, that they did not believe a word of the gospel to be true. Oh, sad day, when men's own tongues and professions shall be brought in against them, and condenm them !

Sect. XII. 11. How forward and painful should we be in that

work, where we are sure we can never do enough ! If there were any danger in overdoing, then it might well cause men to moderate their endeavours ; hut wc know, that if we could do all, we were hut unprofitahla servants, Luke xvii. 10 ; much more when we are sure to fail in all. It is true, a man may possibly pray too much, or preach too much, or hear or reprove too much, though I have known few that ever did so; but yet no man can obey or serve God too much ; for one duty may be said to be too long, when it shuts out another, and then it ceaseth, indeed, to be a duty. So that, though all superstition, or worship of our devising, may be called righteousness over-much ; yet, as long as you keep your service to the rule of the word, that so it might have the true nature of obedience, you never need to fear being righteous too much ; for else, we should reproach the Lord and Lawgiver of the church, as if he commanded us to do too much. Ah, if the world were not mad with malice, they could never be so blind in this point as they are: to think, that faithful diligence in serving Christ, is folly and singularity; and that they who set themselves wholly to seek eternal life, are but precise puritans ! The time is near, when they will easily confess that God could not be loved or served too much, and that no man can be too busy to save his soul : for the world you may easily do too much, but here, in God's way, you cannot.

Sect. XIII. 12. It is the nature of every grace to put on the soul to diligence and speed. If you loved God, you would make haste, and not delay or trifle ; you would think nothing too much that you could possibly do ; you would be ambitious to serve him and please him still more; love is quick and impatient, it is active and observant. If you loved Christ, you would keep his commandments, and not accuse them of too much strictness, John i. 4; xv. 23. So also, if you had faith, it would quicken and encourage you ; if you had the hope of glory, it would, as the spring in the watch, set all the wheels of your souls agoing ; if you had the fear of God, it would rouse you out of your slothfulness ; if you had zeal, it would inflame you, and eat you up. God hath put all his graces in the soul, on purpose to be oil to the wheels, to be life to the dead, to mind men of their duty, and dispose them to it, and to carry them to himself; so that, in what degree soever thou art sanctified, in the same degree thou wilt be serious and laborious in the work of God.

Sect. XIV. 13. Consider, They that trifle in the Way to heaven, do but lose all their labour, when serious endeavours do obtain their end. The proverb is, " As good never a whit, as never the better." If two be running in a race^ he that runs slowest had as good never run at all; for, now, he loseth the prize and his labour both. Many who, like Agrippa, are but almost Christians, Acts xxvi. 28, will find, in the end, they shall be but almost saved. God hath set the rate at which the pearl must be bought ; it you bid a penny less than that rate, you had as good bid nothing. As a man that is lifting at some weighty thing, if he put to almost strength enough, but yet not sufficient, it is as good he put to none

at all ; for he doth but lose all his labour. Oh how many professors of Christianity will find this true, to their sorrow, who have had a mind to the ways of (iod, and have kept up a dull task of duty, and plodded on in a formal, lif<;less profession, but never came to serious Christianity ! Mow many a duty have they lost, for want of doing them thoroughly, and to the purpose ! Perhaps their place in hell may be the easier, and so their labour ie not lost ; but as to the obtaining of salvation, it is all lost. " Many shall seek to enter, and shall not be able," Luke xiii. 24, who, if they had striven, might have been able. O, therefore, put to a little more diligence and strength, that all be not in vain that you have done already.

Sect. XV. 14. Furthermore, We have lost a great deal of precious time already, and therefore it is reason that we labour so much the harder. If a traveller do sleep or trifle out the most of the day, he must travel so much the faster in the evening, or else he is like to fall short of his journey's end. With some of us, our childhood and youth is gone ; with some also their middle age is past; and the time before us is very uncertain and short. What a deal of time have we slept away, and talked away, and played away ! what a deal have we spent in worldly thoughts and labours, or in mere idleness ! Though in likelihood the most of our time is spent, yet how little of our work is done ! and is it not time now to bestir ourselves in the evening of our days ? The time which we have lost can never be recalled : should we not then redeem it by improving the little which remaineth ? You may receive, indeed, an equal recompence with those that have borne the burden and heat of the day, though you came not in till the last hour ; but t4en you must be sure to labour soundly that hour. It is enough, sure, that we have lost so much of our lives ; let us not now be so foolish as to lose the rest, 1 Pet. iv. 2—4.

Sect. XVI. 1.3. Consider, The greater are your layings out, the greater will be your comings in. Though you may seem to lose your labour at the present, yet the hour cometh when you shall find it with advantage. The seed which is buried and dead, will bring forth a plentiful increase at the harvest. Whatever you do, and whatever you suffer, this everlasting rest will pay for all. There is no repenting of labours and sufferings in heaven ; none says. Would I had spared my pains, and prayed less, or been less strict and precise, and did as the rest of my neighbours did ! There is never such a thought in heaven as this. But, on the contrary, it will be their joy to look back upon their labours and tribulations, and to consider how the mighty power of God did bring them through all. Who ever complained that he came to heaven at too dear a rate, or that his salvation cost him more labour than it was worth ? W^e may say of all our labours, as Paul of his sufferings, " For I reckon that the sufferings (and labours) of this present time, are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us," Rom. viii. 18. We labour but for a moment, but we shall rest for ever. Who would not put forth all his strength for

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one hour, when he may l)e a prince while he lives for that hour's work .' O, what is the duty and suffering of a short, frail life, which is almost at an end as soon as it begins, in respect of the endless joys with God ? Will not all our tears then be wiped away, and all the sorrows of our duties forgotten ? but yet the Lord will not forget them ; " for he is not unjust to forget our work and labour of love," Heb. vi. 10.

Sect. XVII. 16. Consider, Violence and laborious striving for salvation, is the way that the wisdom of God hath directed us to as best, as his sovereign authority appointed us as necessary. Who knows the way to heaven better than the God of heaven ? When men tell us that we are too strict and precise, whom do they accuse, God or us ? If we do no more than what we are commanded, nor so much neither (Luke xvii. 10), they may as well say, God hath made laws which are too strict and precise. Surely, if it were a fault, it would lie in him that commands it, and not in us who are bound to obey. And dare these men think that they are wiser than God ? Do they know better than he, what men must do to be saved ? These are the men that ask us whether we are wiser than all the world besides, and yet they will pretend to be wiser than God. What do they less, when God bids us take the most diligent course, and they tell us it is more ado than needs ? Mark well the language of the laws of God, and see how you can reconcile it with the language of the world : " The kingdom of heaven sufFereth violence, and the violent take it by force," Matt. xi. 12 ; or, as it is in Luke xvi. 16, "every one presseth into it." " Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; for many shall seek to enter in, and shall not be able," Luke xiii. 24. So Matt. vii. 13, 14. " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might, for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest/' Eccles, ix. 10. " Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one rcceiveth the prize ? So run that you may obtain," 1 Cor. ix. 24. " If a man strive for masteries, yet he is not crowned except he strive lawfully," 2 Tim. ii. 5, that is, powerfully and prevailingly. " Work out your salvation with fear and trembling," Phil. ii. 12. "Give diligence to make your calling and election sure," 2 Pet. i. 10. " If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and sinners appear?" 1 Pet.'iv. 1>:. So Phil. i. 27; iii. 14; 1 Tim. vi. 12, 18, 19; Deut. vi. 5, &c. This is the constant language of Christ: and which shall I follow, God or man; yea, and that the worst and most wicked men ? Shall 1 think that every ignorant, worldly sot, that can only call a man puritan, knows more than Christ, and can teach him to make laws for his church, or can tell God how to mend the Scriptures ? Let them bring all the seeming reasons that they can against the holy, violent striving of the saints, and this sufficeth me to confute them all, that God is of another mind, and he hath commanded me to do much more than I do ; and though I could see no reason for it, yet his will is reason enough to me. I am sure God is worthy to goVern us, if we were better than we are.

^^'ho should make laws for us, but he that mado us { And who should line out the way to heaven, but he that must brinf^ us thither .' And who should determine on what conditions we shall be saved, but he that bestows the gift of salvation { So that let world, or flesh, or devil, speak against a holy, laborious course, this is my answer, Ciod hath commanded it.

Sect. XVIII. 17. Moreover, It is a course that all men in the world either do or will approve of. There is not a man that ever was, or is, or shall be, but shall one day justify the diligence of the saints, and give his verdict in the approbation of their wisdom. And who would not go that way which every man shall applaud ? It is true, it is now a way every where spoken against, and hated: but let me tell you, 1. Most that speak against it, do in their judgments approve of it; only because the practice of godliness is against the pleasures of the flesh, therefore do they against their own judgments resist it. They have not one word of reason against it, but reproaches and railing are their best arguments. 2. Those that now are against it, whether in judgment or passion, will shortly be, every man, of another mind. If they come to heaven, their mind must be changed before they come there. If they go to hell, their judgment will then be altered, whether they will or no. If you could speak with every soul that sulFereth those torments, and ask their judgments, whether it be possible to be too diligent and serious in seeking salvation, you may easily conjecture what answer they would return. Take the most bitter derider or persecutor of godliness, even those that will venture tl\eir lives for to overthrow it, if those men do not shortly eat their own words, and wish a thousand times that they had been the most holy, diligent Christians on earth, then let me bear the shame of a false prophet for ever.* . Remember this, you that will be of the opinion and way that most are of. Why then will you not be of the opinion that all will be shortly of ? Why will you be of a judgment which you are sure you shall all shortly change ? Oh that you were but as wise in this as those in hell!

Sect. XIX. 18. Consider, They that have been the most serious, painful Christians, when they come to die, do exceedingly lament their negligence. Those that have wholly addicted themselves to the work of Go'd, and have made it the main business of their lives, and have slighted the world and mortified the flesh, and have been the wonders of the world for their heavenly conversations, yet when conscience is let loose upon them, and God withdraws the sense of his love, how do their failings wound them and disquiet them ! W^hat terrors do the souls of many undergo, who are generally admired for their godliness and innocency; even those that are hated and derided by the world for being so strict, and are thought to be almost beside themselves for their extraorcbnary diligence, yet commonly when they lie a dying, do wish. Oh that they had been

* Duty at last is sweet; it comes off with heaven, though hell dog it for a time ; saith Lockier sweetly (as all). See him further of the good end of duty, on Col. i. 24. p. 300,

a thousand times more holy, more heavenly, more laborious for their souls ! What a case then will the negligent world be in, when their consciences are awaked, when they lie dying, and look behind them upon a lazy, negligent life, and look before them upon a severe and terrible judgment! what an esteem will they have of a holy life ! For my own part, I may say, as Erasmus, Accusant quod nimium fecerim ; verum conscientia meet me accusal quod minus fecerim, quodque lentior fuerim, They accuse me for doing too much, but my own conscience accuseth me for doing too little, and being too slow : and it is far easier bearing the scorns of the world than the scourges of conscience. The world speaks at a distance without me, so that though I hear their words, I can choose whether I will feel them ; but my conscience speaks within me at the very heart, so that every check doth pierce me to the quick. Conscience, when it is reprehended justly, is the messenger of God; but ungodly revilers are but the voice of the devil. I had rather be reproached by the devil for seeking salvation, than to be reproved of God for neglecting it: I had rather the world should call me puritan in the devil's name, than conscience should call me loiterer in God's name. As God and conscience are more useful friends than Satan and the world, so are they more dreadful, irresistible enemies.

Sect. XX. 19. Consider, How far many a man goes, and what a deal of pains he takes for heaven, and yet misseth it for want of more ! When every man that striveth is not crowned, 2 Tim. ii. 5 ; and many shall seek to enter in, and not be able, Luke xxiii. 24 ; and the very children of the kingdom shall be shut out, Matt. xiii. 41 ; and they that have heard the word, and received it with joy. Matt. xiii. 20, and have heard the preacher gladly, and done many things after him, shall yet perish, Mark vi. 20; it is time foj us to look about us, and take heed of loitering. When they that seek God daily, and delight to know his ways, and ask of him the ordinances of justice, and take delight in approaching to God, and that in fasting and afflicting their souls, Isa. Ivi. 2, 3, ai-e yet shut out with hypocrites and unbelievers; when they that have been enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and of the good word of God, and of the powers of the world to come, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, may yet fall away beyond recovery, and crucify to themselves the Son of God, Heb. vi. 4—6 ; when they that have received the knowledge of the truth, and were sanctified by the blood of the covenant, may yet sin wilfully, and tread under foot the Son of God, and do despite to the Spirit of grace, till there is nothing left them but the fearful expectation of judgment, and fire that shall devour the adversaries, Heb. x. 26— 29 ; should not this rouse us out of our laziness and security ? How far hath many a man followed Christ, and yet forsaken him when it comes to the selling of all, to bearing the cross, to burning at the stake, or to the renouncing of all his worldly interests and hopes ! What a deal of pains hath many a man taken for heaven, that never did obtain it! How many prayers, sermons, fasts, alms.

good desires, confessions, sorrow and tears for sin, &c. have all been lost, and fallen short of the kingdom ! Methinks this should aftright us out of our sluggishness, and make us strive to outstrip the highest formalist.

Sect. XXI. 20. Consider, God hath resolved that heaven shall not be had on easier terms. He hath not only commanded it as a duty, but hath tied our salvation to the performance of it. Rest must always follow labour. He that hath ordained in his church on earth, thai he that will not labour shall not eat, hath also decreed concerning the everlasting inheritance, that he that strives not shall not enter. They must now lay up a treasure in heaven, if they will find it there. Matt. xix. 20, They must seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness. Matt. vi. 33. They must not labour for the food that perisheth, but for that food which en-dureth to everlasting life, John vi. 27. Some think that it is good to be holy, but yet not of such absolute necessity but that a man may be saved without it; but God hath determined on the contrary, that without it no man shall see his face, Heb. xii. 14. Seriousness is the very thing wherein consisteth our sincerity. If thou art not serious, thou art not a Christian. It is not only a high degree in Christianity, but of the very life and essence of it. As fencers upon a stage, who have all the skill at their weapons, and do eminently and industriously act their parts, but do not seriously intend the death of each other, do differ from soldiers or combatants, who fight in good sadness for their lives, just so do hypocrites differ from serious Christians. If men could be saved without this serious diligence, they would never regard it; all the excellences of God's ways would never entice them. But when God hath resolved, that if you will have your ease here, you 'shall have none hereafter, is it not wisdom, then, to bestir ourselves to the utmost ?

Sect. XXII. 21. And thus, reader, I dare confidently say, I have showed thee sufficient reason against thy slothfulness and negligence, if thou be not a man resolved to shut thine eyes, and to destroy thyself wilfully, in despite of reason. Yet, lest all this should not prevail, I will add somewhat more, if it be possible, to persuade thee to be serious in thy endeavours for heaven.

1. Consider, God is in good earnest ^vith you, and why then should not you be so with him ? In his commands, he means as he speaks, and will verily require your real obedience. In his threatenings he is serious, and will make them all good against the rebellious. In his promises he is serious, and will fulfil them to the obedient, even to the least tittle. In his judgments he is serious, as he will make his enemies know to their terror. Was not God in good earnest when he drowned the world, when he consumed Sodom and Gomorrah, when he scattered the Jews ? Hath he not been in good sadness with us lately in England, and Ireland, and Germany ^ And very shortly will he lay hold on his enemies, particularly man by man, and make them know that he is in good

earnest; especially when it comes to the great reckoning clay. And is it time, then, for us to dally with God ?

2. Jesus Christ was serious in purchasing our redemption. He was serious in teaching, when he neglected his meat and drink, John iv. 32. He was serious in praying, when he continued all night at it, Luke vi. 12. He was serious in doing good, when his kindred came and laid hands on him, thinking he had been beside himself, Mark iii. 20, 21. He was serious in suffering, when he fasted forty days, was tempted, betrayed, spit on, buffeted, crowned with thorns, sweat water and blood; was crucified, pierced, died. There was no jesting in all this ; and should not we be serious in seekin* our own salvation ?

3. The Holy Ghost is serious in soliciting us for our happiness ; his motions are frequent, and pressing, and importunate : he striveth with our hearts, Gen. vi. 3 ; he is grieved when we resist him, Eph. iv, 30: and should not we then be serious in obeying his motions, and yielding to his suit ?

4. God is serious in hearing our prayers, and delivering us from our dangers, and removing our troubles, and bestowing his mercies.* When we are afflicted, he is afflicted with us, Isa. Ixiii. 9. He re-gardeth every groan and sigh, he putteth every tear into his bottle; he condoleth their misery, when he is forced to chastise them ; " How shall I give thee up, O Ephraim ?" saith the Lord ; "how shall I make thee as Admah, and as Zeboim ? my heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together," Hos. xi. 8. He heareth even the rebellious ofttimes, when they call upon him in their misery; " when they cry to him in their trouble, he delivereth them out of their distress," Psal. Ixxviii. 37, 38 ; cvii. 10—13, 19, 28, Yea, the next time thou art in trouble, thou wilt beg for a serious regard of thy prayers, and grant of thy desires. And shall we be so slight in the work of God, when we expect he should be so regardful of us ? Shall we have real mercies down weight; and shall we return' such superficial and frothy service ?

5. Consider, The ministers of Christ are serious in instructing and exhorting you, and why should not you be as serious in obeying their instructions ? They are serious in study; serious in prayer ; serious in persuading your souls to the obedience of Christ; they beg of God, they beg of you, they hope, they wait, they long more for the conversion and salvation of your souls, than they do for any worldly good: " you are their boasting, their crown and joy," 1 Thess. ii. 19, 20. " Your stedfastness in Christ they value as their lives," 1 Thess. iii. 8. They are content to " be offered up in the service of your faith," Phil. ii. 17, ^f they kill themselves with study and preaching, or if they suffer martyrdom for preaching the gospel ; they think their lives are well bestowed, if their preaching do but prevail for saving of your souls. And shall other

* For my own part, my sorrows are so real and pressing, that if God be not serious in hearing and helping me, I shall perish immediately ; nor would I be without his tender, regardful providence one day for a world : and should I then neglect him ?

men be so painful and careful for your salvation, and .should you be so careless and negligent of your own ? Is it not a serious charge that is given to ministers in 2 Tim. iv. I { and a serious pattern that is given them in Acts xx. 30, 31 ? Surely no man can be bound to be more serious and jjainful for the welfare of another, than he is bound to be for himself.

G. How S(^rious and diligent are all the creatures in their service to thee ! What haste makes the sun to compass the world; and how truly doth it return at its appointed hour! So do the moon and other planets. The springs are always flowing for thy use ; the rivers still running; the spring and harvest keep their times. How hard doth thy ox labour for thee from day to day ; how painfully and speedily doth thy horse bear thee in travel! And shall all these be laborious, and thou only negligent ? Shall they all be so serious in serving thee, and yet thou be so slight in thy service to God?

7. Consider, The servants of the world and the devil are serious and diligent; they ply their work continually with unwcariedness and delight, as if they could never do enough ; they make haste, and march furiously, as if they were afraid of coming to hell too late. They bear down ministers, and sermons, and counsel, and all before them. And shall they do more for the devil, than thou wilt do for God; or be more diligent for damnation, than thou wilt be for salvation .'' Hast not thou a better Master, and sweeter employment, and greater encouragement, and a better reward ?

8. The time was when thou wast serious thyself in thy service to Satan and the flesh, if it be not so still: dost thou not remember how eagerly thou didst follow thy sports; or how violently thou wast addicted to customs, or evil company, or sinful delights; or how earnestly thou w^ast bent after thy profits, or rising in the world i And wilt thou not now be more earnest and violent for God { '•' What profit hadst thou then in those things whereof thou art now ashamed .'' For the end of those things is death; but now being made free from sin, and become the servants of God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life," Rom. vi. 21, 22.

9. You are yet to this day in good earnest about the matters of this life. If you are sick, what serious groans and complaints do you utter! All the town shall quickly know it, if your pain be great. If you are poor, how hard do you labour for your living, lest your wife and children should starve or famish ! If one fall down in a swoon in the house, or street, or in the congregation, how seriously w'ill you run to relieve and recover them ! And is not the business of our salvation of far greater moment ? Are you not poor ; and should you not then be labourers ? Are you not in fight for your lives ; and is it time to sleep ? Are you not in a race ; and is not the prize the crown of glory; and should you then sit still or take your ease ?

10. There is no jesting in heaven, nor in hell. The saints have a real happiness, and the damned a real misery ; the saints arc

serious and high in their joy and praise, and the damned are serious and deep in their sorrow and complaints. There are no remiss or sleepy praises in heaven, nor any remiss or sleepy lamentations in hell; all men there are in good earnest, and should we not then he serious now ? Reader, I dare promise thee, the thoughts of these things will shortly he serious thoughts with thyself. When thou comest to death or judgment, oh what deep, heart-piercing thoughts wilt thou have of eternity ! methinks I foresee thee already astonished to think how thou couldst possibly make so light of these things ! methinks I even hear thee crying out of thy stupidity and madness !

Sect. XXIII. 22. And now, reader, having laid thee down these undeniable arguments, I do here, in the name of God, demand thy resolution : what sayest thou ? wilt thou yield obedience or not ? I am confident thy conscience is convinced of thy duty. Darest thou now go on in thy common careless course, against the plain evidence of reason and commands of God, and against the light of-thy own conscience ? Darest thou live as loosely, and sin as boldly, and pray as seldom and as coldly, as before ? Darest thou now as carnally spend the sabbath, and slubber over the service of God as slightly, and think of thine everlasting state as carelessly, as before ? or, dost thou not rather resolve to gird up the loins of thy mind, and to set thyself wholly about the work of thy salvation; and to do it with all thy strength and might; and to break over all the oppositions of the world, and to slight all their scorns and persecutions ; " to cast off the weight that hangeth on thee, and the sin that doth so easily beset thee ; and to run with patience and speed the race that is set before thee?" 1 Pet. i. 13; Heb, xii. I, 2. I hope these are thy full resolutions : if thou be well in thy wits, I am sure they are.

Yet because I know the strange obstinacy and rockiness of the heart of man, and because I would fain drive this nail to the head, and leave these persuasions fastened in thy heart, that so if it be possible thou mightest be awakened to thy duty, and thy soul might live, I shall therefore proceed with thee yet a little further; and I once more entreat thee to stir up thy attention, and go along with me in the free and sober use of thy reason, while I propound to thee these following questions : and I command thee from God, that thou stifle not thy conscience, and resist not conviction, but answer them faithfully, and obey accordingly.

Quest. 1. If you could grow rich by religion, or get lands and lordships by being diligent in godliness ; or if you could get honour or preferment by it in the world ; or could be recovered from sickness by it, or could live for ever in prosperity on earth; what kind of lives would you then lead, and what pains would you take in the service of God! And is not the rest of the saints a more excellent happiness than all this ?

Quest. 2. If the law of the land did punish every breach of the sabbath, or every omission of family duties or secret duties, or every cold and heartless prayer, with death; if it were felony or treason

to bo ungodly and negligent in worship, and loose in your lives ; what manner of persons would you then be, and what lives would you lead { And is not eternal death more terrible than temporal.'

Qitesf. 3. If it were God's ordinary course to punish every sin with some present judgment, so that every time a man swears, or is drunk, or speaks a lie, or backbiteth his neighbour, he should be struck dead, or blind, or lame in the place; if God did punish evei-y cold prayer, or neglect of duty, with some remarkalilc plague ; what manner of persons would you then be ? If you should suddenly fall down dead like Ananias and Sapphira, with the sin in your hands, or the plague of God should seize ujwn you as upon the Israelites, while the sweet morsels were yet in their mouths, Psal. Ixxviii. 30; if but a mark should be set in the forehead of every one that neglected a duty, or committed a sin ; what kind of lives would you then lead.' And is not eternal wrath more terrible than all this ? Give but reason leave to speak.

Quest. 4. If one of your old acquaintance and companions in sin should come from the dead, and tell you, that he suifered the torments of hell for those sins that you are guilty of, and for neglecting those duties which you neglect, and for living such a careless, worldly, ungodly life, as you now live, and should therefore advise you to take another course ; if you should meet such a one in your chamber when you are going to bed, and he should say to you, O, take heed of this carnal, unholy life ! set yourself to seek the Lord with all your might; neglect not your soul; prepare for eternity, that you come not to the place of torment that 1 am in ; how would this take with you, and what manner of persons would you afterwards be .'' It is written in the life of Bruno, that a doctor of great note for learning and godliness being dead, and being brought to the church to be buried, while they were in their popish devotions, and came to the words Respondc inihi, the corpse arose in the bier, and with a terrible voice cried out, Justo Dei judicio accusal us suui, I am accused at the just judgment of God ; at which voice the people ran all out of the church affrighted. On the morrow when they came again to perform the obsequies, to the same words as before, the corpse arose again and cried with a hideous voice, Juslo Dei judicio judicatns sum, I am judged at the righteous judgment of God; whereupon the people ran away again amazed. The third day almost all the city came together, and when they came to the same words as before, the corpse arose again, and cried with a more doleful voice than before, Justo Dei judicio coudemuatus sum, I am condemned at the just judgment of God. The consideration whereof, that a man reputed so upright, should yet by his own confession be damned, caused Bruno, and the rest of his companions, to enter into the strict order of the Carthusians. If the voice of the dead man could affright them into superstition, should not the warnings of God affright thee into true devotion f

Quest. 5. If you knew that this were the last day you had to live in the world, how would you spend this day ? If you were sure when you go to bed, that you should never rise again, would not

your thoughts of another life be more serious that night ? If you knew when you are praying, that you should never pray more, would you not he more earnest and importunate in that prayer ? Or if you knew when you are preaching, or hearing, or exhorting your sinful acquaintance, that this were the last opportunity you should have, would you not ply it more closely than usually you do? Why, you do not know but it may be the last: and you are sure your last is near at hand.

Quest. G. If you had seen the general dissolution of the world, and all the pomp and glory of it consumed to ashes : if you saw all on a fire about you, sumptuous buildings, cities, kingdoms, land, water, earth, heaven, all flaming about your ears : if you had seen all that men laboured for, and sold their souls for, gone; friends gone ; the place of your former abode gone ; the history ended, and all come down; what would such a sight as this persuade you to do? Why, such a sight thou shalt certainly see. I put my question to thee in the words of the apostle : " Seeing all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought you to be in all holy conversation and godliness, looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God, wherein the heavens being on fire, shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat ?" 2 Pet. iii. 12. As if he should say. We cannot possibly conceive or express what manner of persons we should be in all holiness and godliness, when v/e do but think of the sudden, and certain, and terrible dissolution of all things below.

Quest. 7. What if you had seen the process of the judgment of the great day; if you had seen the judgment set, and the books opened, and the most stand trembling on the left hand of the Judge, and Christ himself accusing them of their rebellions and neglects, and remembering them of all their former slightings of his grace, and at last condemning them to perpetual perdition ; if you had seen the godly standing on the right hand, and Jesus Christ acknowledging their faithful obedience, and adjudging them to the possession of the joy of their Lord ; what manner of persons would you have been after such a sight as this ? W hy, this sight thou shalt one day see, as sure as thou livest. And why then should not the foreknowledge of such a day awake thee to thy duty ?

Quest. 8. What if you had once seen hell open, and all the damned there in their easeless torments, and had heard them crying out of their slothfulness in the day of their visitation, and wishing that they had but another life to live, and that God would but try them once again; one crying out of his neglect of duty, and another of his loiter;ng and trifling, when he should have been labouring for his life ; what manner of persons would you have been after such a sight as this ? What if you had seen heaven opened, as Stephen did, and all the saints there triumphing in glory, and enjoying the end of their labours and sufferings, what a life would you lead after such a sight as this ! Why, you will see this with your eyes before it be long.

Quest. 9. What if you had lain in hell but one year, or one day,

or hour, and there felt all those torments that now you do but hoar of, and (iod should turn you into the world again, and try you witl\ another life-time, and say, I will see whether thou wilt he yet any l)etter, what manner of persons would you he ? If you were to live a thousand years, would you not gladly live as strictly as the pre-cisest saints, and spend all those years in prayer and duty, so you might hut escape the torment which you suffered .' How seriously then would you speak of hell, and pray against it, and hear, and road, and watch, and obey ! How earnestly would you admonish the careless to take heed, and look about them to prevent their ruin ! And will not you take God's word for the truth of this, except you feel it.'' Is it not your wisdom to do as much now to prevent it, as you would do to remove it when it is too late 'i Is it not more wisdom to spend this life in labouring for heaven, while ye have it, than to lie in torment, wishing for more time in vain ?

Quest. 10. What if you had been possessed but one year of the glory of heaven, and there joined with the saints and angels in the beholding of God, and singing his praise, and afterwards should be turned into the world again, what a life would you lead; what pains would you take rather than to be deprived of such incomparable glory ! A\'ould you think any cost too great, or diligence too much ? If one of those that are now in heaven, should come to live on the earth again, what persons would they be ; what a stir would they make ; how seriously would they drive on the business of their salvation! The country would ring of their exceeding holy and strict conversations. They would as far excel the holiest persons on earth, as they excel the careless world. Before they would lose that blessed estate, they would follow God with cries both day and night, and throw away all, and suffer every day a death. And should not we do as much to obtain it ?

Sect. XXV. And thus I have said enough, if not to stir up the lazy sinner to a serious working out his salvation, yet at least to silence him, and leave him inexcusable at the judgment of God. If thou canst, after the reading of all this, go on in the same neglect of (jod and thy soul, and draw out the rest of thy life in the same dull and careless course, as thou hast hitherto done ; and if thou hast so far conquered and stupified thy conscience, that it will quietly suffer thee to forget all this, and to trifle out the rest of thy time in the business of the world, when in the mean while thy salvation is in danger, and the Judge is at the door, I have then no more to say to thee ; it is as good speak to a post or rock. Only as we do by our friends when they are dead, and our words and actions can do them no good, yet to testify our affections we weep and mourn for them; so will I also do for these deplorable souls. It makes my heart sad, and even tremble to think, how they will stand, sad and trembling, before the Lord! and how confounded and speechless they will be, when Christ shall reason with them concerning their negligence and sloth ! when he shall say, as the Lord doth in Jer. ii. 5, 9, 11, 15, " \\'hat iniquity have your fathers (or you) found in me, that ye are gone far from me, and have

walked after vanity ?" &c. Did I ever wrong you, or do you any harm, or ever discourage you from following my service ? was my way so bad that you could not endure it; or my service so base that you could not stoop to it ? did I stoop to the fulfilling of the law for you, and could not you stoop to the fulfilling of the easy conditions of my gospel ? was the world or Satan a better friend to you than I; or have they done for you more than I have ? try now, v.'hether they will save you, or whether they will recompense you for the loss of heaven, or whether they will be as good to you as I would have been. Oh, what would the wretched sinner answer to any of this ? But though man will not hear, yet we may have hope in speaking to God. Lord, smite these rocks till they gush forth waters : though these ears are deaf, say to them, " Ephphatha, Be opened:" though these sinners be dead, let that power speak, which sometime said, "Lazarus, arise!" We know they will be awakened at the last resurrection: oh ! but then it will be only to their sorrow. O thou that didst weep and groan in spirit over a dead Lazarus, pity these sad and senseless souls, till they are able to weep, and groan for, and pity themselves. As thou hast bid thy servants speak, so speak now thyself; they will hear thy voice speaking to their hearts, that will not hear mine speaking to their ears. Long hast thou knocked at these hearts in vain, now break the doors, and enter in, and pass by all their long resistance.

Sect. XXVI. Yet I will add a few more words to the godly in special, to show them why they, above all men, should be laborious for heaven; and that there is a great deal of reason, that though all the world besides do sit still, and be careless, yet they should abhor that laziness and negligence, and should lay out all their strength on the work of God. To this end, I desire them also to answer soberly to these few interrogatories.

Quest. 1. What manner of persons should those be, whom God hath chosen out to be vessels of mercy, and hath given them the very cream and quintessence of his blessings, when the rest of the world are passed by, and put off with common, and temporal, and left-hand mercies t They who have the blood of Christ given them, and the Spirit for sanctification, consolation, and preservation, and the pardon of sins, and adoption to sonship, and the guard of angels, and the mediation of the Son of God, and the special love of the Father, and the promise and seal of everlasting rest! do but tell me in good sadness, what kind of lives these men should live ?

Quest. 2. What manner of persons should those be, who have felt the smart of their negligence so much as the godly have done ; in the new birth, in their several wounds and trouble of conscience, in their doubts and fears, in their sharp afflictions on body and state ? They that have groaned and cried out so oft, under the sense and effects of their negligence, and are like enough to feel it again, if they do not reform it, sure, one would think they should be slothful no more.

Quest. 3. What manner of persons should those be in holy dili-

gencc, who have beon so long convinced of the evil of laziness ; and have confessed it on their knees, a hundred and a hundrecl tinu's, both in public and in private ; and have told (iod in prayer how unexcusably they have therein oflended ; should tliey thus confess their sin. and yet commit it, as if they told God what they would do, as well as what they have done ?

Quest. 4. \Vhat manner of persons should those be in painful godliness, who have bound themselves to God by so many covenants as we have done, and in special have covenanted so olt to be more painful and faithful in his service at every sacrament; on many days of humiliation and thanksgiving ; in most of our deep distresses and dangerous sicknesses ? We are still ready to bewail our neglects, and to engage ourselves, if God will but try us, and trust once again, how diligent and laborious we will be, and how we will improve our time, and reprove offenders, and watch over ourselves, and ply our work ; and do him more service in a day than we did in a month. The Lord pardon our perfidious covenant-breaking ; and grant that our engagements may not condemn us.

Quest. 5. What manner of persons should they be, who are so near to God as we, who are his children, in his family, still under his eye; the objects of his greatest jealousy, as well as love ? Nadab and Abiiiu can tell you, that the flames of jealousy are hottest about his altar, Lev. x. 1, 2 : and Uzza, and the fifty thousand and seventy Bethshemites, 1 Sam. vi. 19, though dead, do yet tell you, that justice, as well as mercy, is most active about the ark. And Ananias and his wife can tell you, that profession is no cover for transgression, Acts v. 4, 5, &c. Judgment beginneth at the house of God, 1 Pet. iv. 17 ; and the destroying angel doth begin at the sanctuary, Ezek. ix. 5, G.

Quest. G. What manner of men should they be in duty, who have received so much encouragement, as we have done by our success ; who have tasted such sweetness in diligent obedience, as doth much more than countervail all the pains ; who have so oft had experience of the wide difference between lazy and laborious duty, by their different issues ; who have found all our lazy duties unfruitful, and all our strivings and wrestlings with God successful, so that we were never importunate with God in vain? We who have had so many admirable national and personal deliverances upon urgent seeking; and have received almost all our solid comforts in a way of close and constant duty; how should we, above all men, ply our work !

Quest. 7. What manner of men should they be, who are yet at such great uncertainties, whether they are sanctified or justified, or whether they are the children of God or no, or what shall everlastingly become of their souls, as most of the godly that I meet with are i They that have discovered the excellency of the kingdom, and yet have not discovered their interest in it, but discern a danger of perishing or losing all, and have need of that advice, Heb. iv. 1, and have so many doubts to wrestle wath daily as we have; how should such men bestir themselves in time !

Quest. 8. What manner of persons should they he in holiness, who have so much of the great work yet undone as we have ; so many sins in so great strength; graces weak, sanctification imperfect, corruption still working our ruin, and taking advantage of all our omissions ? When we are as a boatman on the water, let him row never so hard a month together, yet if he do but slack his hand, and think to ease himself, his boat goes faster down the stream than before it went up; so do our souls, when we think to ease ourselves by abating our pains in duty. Our time is short ; our enemies mighty ; our hinderances many ; God seems yet at a great distance from many of us ; our thoughts of him are dull, and strange, and unbelieving; our acquaintance and communion with Christ are small; and our desires to be with him are as small. And should men in our case stand still ?

Quest. 9. What manner of men should they be in their diligence, whose lives and duties are of so great concernment to the saving or destroying of a multitude of souls ; when, if we slip, so many are ready to stumble ; and if we stumble, so many are ready to fall 1 If we pray hard for them, and admonish them daily, and faithfully, and plainly, and exhort them with bowels of pity and love, and go before them in a holy, inoffensive conversation, it is twenty to one but we may be instruments of saving many of them from everlasting perdition, and bringing them to the possession of the inheritance with us : on the contrary, if we silently neglect them, or sinfully offend them, we may be occasions of their perpetual torment: and what a sad thought is that to an honest and merciful heart! That we may not destroy the souls for whom Christ died, that we may not rob them of their everlasting happiness, and God of the praises that in heaven they would give him, what manner of persons should we be in our duties and examples ?

Quest. \0. Lastly: What manner of persons should they be, on whom the glory of the great God doth so much depend ? Men will judge of the Father by the children, and of the Master by the servants. We bear his image ; and therefore men will measure him by his representation. He is no where in the world so lively represented as in his saints : and shall they set him forth as a patron of viciousness or idleness ? All the world is not capable of honouring or dishonouring God so much as we : and the least of his honour is of more worth than all our lives. I have harped all this while upon the apostle's string, 2 Pet. iii. 11; and now let rae give it the last touch. Seeing, then, that all these things forementioned are so, I charge thee, that art a Christian, in my Master's name, to consider and resolve the question, What manner of persons ought we to be in all holy conversation and godliness ? And let thy life answer the question as well as thy tongue.

Sect. XXVII. I have been larger upon this use than at first I intended ; partly because of the general neglect of heaven, that all sorts are guilty of; partly because men's salvation depends upon their present striving and seeking ; partly because the doctrine of free grace, misunderstood, is lately so abused to the cherishing of

sloUi and security ; partly because many eminent men of late do judgo, tliat to work or labour for life and salvation is mercenary, legal, and dangerous; which doctrine, as I have said before^ were it by the owners reduced into practice, would undoubtedly damn them ; because they that seek not shall not find, and they that strive not to enter shall be shut out, and they that labour not shall not be crowned ; and partly because it is grown the custom of this distracted age, instead of striving for the kingdom and contending for the faith, to strive with each other about uncertain controversies, and to contend about the circumstantials of the faith, wherein the kingdom of God doth no more consist than in meats or drinks, or questions about the law, or genealogies. Sirs, shall we, who are brethren, fall out by the way home, and spend so nmch of our time about the smaller matters which thousands have been saved without, but never any one saved by them, while Christ and our eternal rest are almost forgotten ? The Lord pardon and heal the folly of his people. ^-^ ^ ,

^^ J^" /t /g. ^ ^--^ .^^f/^^

CHAPTER VII.

THE THIRD USE : PERSUADING ALL MEN TO TRY THEIR TITLE TO THIS REST; AND DIRECTING THEM HOW TO TRY THAT THEY MAY KNOW\

Sect. I. I now proceed to the third use which we shall raise hence; and because it is of very great importance to thy soul, I entreat thee to read it*the more diligently, and weigh it the more seriously.

Is there such a glorious rest so near at hand; and shall none enjoy it but the people of God I What mean the most of the world, then, to live so contentedly without assurance of their interest in this rest, and to neglect the trying of their title to it, when the Lord hath so fully opened the blessedness of that kingdom, which none but a little flock of obedient believers shall possess, and so fully expressed those torments which all the rest of the world must eternally suffer \ A man would think now, that they that believe this to be certainly true, should never be at any quiet in themselves till they knew which of these must be their own state, and were fully assured that they were heirs of the kingdom. Most men that I meet with, say, they believe this word of God to be true; how then can they sit still in such an utter uncertainty, whether ever they shall live in rest or not ? One would think they should run up and down from minister to minister, inquiring. How shall I know whether I shall live in heaven or in hell ? and that they should even think themselves half in hell, till they were sure to escape it, and to be possessed of rest. Lord, what a wonderful, strange madness is this, that men, who look

daily when sickness summons tliem, and death calls them away, and know they must presently enter upon unchangeable joy or pain, should yet live as uncertain what should be their doom, as if they had never heard of any such state; yea, and live as quietly and as merrily in this uncertainty as if all were made sure, and nothing ailed them, and there were no danger ! Are these men alive or dead ? Are they waking, or are they asleep ? What do they think on? Where are their hearts? If they have but a weighty suit at law, how careful are they to know whether it will go for them or against them ! If they were to be tried for their lives at an earthly judicature, how careful would they be to know whether they should be saved or condemned, especially if their care might surely save them ! If they be dangerously sick, they will inquire of the physician, What think you, sir; shall I escape, or no ? But for the business of their salvation, they are content to be uncertain. If you ask most men a reason of their hopes to be saved, they will say. It is because God is merciful, and Christ died for sinners ; and the like general reasons, which any man in the world may give as well as they : but put them to prove their special interest in Christ, and the special saving mercy of God, and they can say nothing to the purpose at all; or, at least, nothing out of their hearts and experience, but only out of their reading or invention. Men are desirous to know all things, save God and themselves ; they will travel over sea and land to know the situation of countries, and customs of the world; they will go to schools and universities, and turn over multitudes of books, and read and study from year to year, to know the creatures, and to be expert in the sciences; they will go apprentice seven years to learn a trade, which they may live by here; and yet they never read the book of conscience, nor study the state of their own souls, that they may make sure of living for ever. If God should ask them for their souls, as he did Cain for his brother Abel, they could return but such an answer as he did. If God or man should say to them. What case is thy soul in, man ? Is it regenerate, and sanctified, and pardoned, or no ? Is it in a state of life, or a state of death ? He would be ready to say, I know not; am I my soul's keeper ? I hope well, I trust God with my soul, and trouble not myself with any such thoughts: I shall speed as well as other men do, and so I will put it to the venture : I thank God I never made any doubt of my salvation. Answ. Thou hast the more cause to doubt a great deal, because thou never didst doubt; and yet more because thou hast been so careless in thy confidence. What do these expressions discover, but a wilful neglect of thy own salvation ? As a shipmaster that should let his vessel alone, and mind other matters, and say, I will venture it among the rocks, and sands, and gulfs, and waves, and winds ; I will never trouble myself to know whether it shall come safe to the harbour; I will trust God with it; it will speed as well as other men's vessels do. Indeed, as well as other men's that are as careless and idle, but not so well as other men's that are diligent and watchful. What horrible abuse of God is this, for men to pretend

that they trust God with their souls only to cloak their own wilful negligence ! If thou didst truly trust Ood, thou wouldst also he ruled hy him, and trust hiui in that way which he hath appointed thee, and upon those terms on which he hath promised thee help. Me requires thee to give all diligence to make thy calling and election sure, and so to trust him, 2 Pet. i. 10. He hath lined thee out a way in Scripture, hy which thou mayst come to he sure ; and charged thee to search and try thyself, till thou certainly know. \\'ere he not a foolish traveller that would hold on his way when he doth not know whether it he right or wrong, and say, I hope I am right; I will not douht of it; I will go on, and trust God? Art not thou guilty of this folly in thy travels to eternity ? Not considering that a little serious inquiry and trial, whether thy way he right, might save thee a great deal of lahour which thou bestowest in vain, and must undo again, or else thou wilt miss of salvation, and undo thyself. If thou shouldst see a man in despair, or that were certain to be damned for ever when he is dead, wouldst thou not look upon such a man as a pitiful object ? Why^ thou that livest in wilful uncertainty, and dost not know whether thou shalt be saved or no, art in the next condition to such a person ; for aught thou knowest to the contrary, thy case hereafter may be as bad as his. I know not what thou thinkest of thy own state ; but, for my part, did I not know what a desperate, blind, dead piece a carnal heart is, I should wonder how thou dost to forget thy misery, and to keep off continual terrors from thy heart ; and especially in these cases following:

1. I wonder how thou canst either think or speak of the dreadful God, without exceeding terror and astonishment, as long as thou art uncertain whether he be thy father or thy enemy, and knowest not but all his attributes may be employed against thee. If his saints must rejoice before him with trembling, and serve him in fear; if they that are sure to receive the immovable kingdom, must yet serve God " with reverence and godly fear," because he " is a consuming fire ;" how then should the remembrance of him be terrible to them that know not but this fire may for ever consume them !

2. How dost thou think, without trembling, upon Jesus Christ, when thou knowest not whether his blood hath purged thy soul, or not; and whether he will condemn thee or acquit thee in judgment; nor whether he be set for thy rising or for thy fall, Luke ii. 34 ; nor whether he be the corner-stone and foundation of thy happiness, or a stone of stumbling to break thee, and grind thee to powder. Matt. xxi. 44. Methinks thou shouldst still be in that tune, as Job xxxi. 23, " Destruction from God is a terror to me, and by reason of his highness I cannot endure."

3. How canst thou open the Bible, and read a chapter, or hear a chapter read, but it should terrify thee ? Methinks every leaf should be to thee as Belshazzar's writing upon the wall, except only that which draws thee to try and reform, Dan. v. 5, G. If thou read the promises, thou knowest not whether ever they shall be

fulfilled to thee, because thou art uncertain of thy performance of the condition. If thou read the threatenin<^s, for any thing thou knowest, thou dost read thy own sentence. 1 do not wonder if thou art an enemy to plain preaching; and if thou say of it, and of the minister and Scripture itself, as Ahab of the prophet, " I hate him, for he doth not prophesy good concerning me, but evil," 1 Kings xxii. 8.

4. I wonder how thou canst, without terror, approach God in prayer, or any duty. When thou cnllest him thy Father, thou knowest not whether thou speak true or false. When thou needest him in thy sickness, or other extremity, thou knowest not whether thou hast a friend to go to, or an enemy. When thou receivest the sacrament, thou knowest not whether thou takest thy blessing or thy bane. And who would wilfully live such a life as this ?

5. What comfort canst thou find in any thing which thou pos-sessest ? Methinks, friends, and honours, and houses, and lands, should do thee little good, till thou know that thou hast the love of God withal, and shalt have rest with him when thou leavest these. Offer to a prisoner, before he know his sentence, either music, or clothes, or lands, or preferment, and what cares he for any of these, till he know how he shall escape for his life ? and then he wall look after these comforts of life, and not before ; for he knows if he must die the next day it will be small comfort to die rich or honourable. Methinks it should be so with thee, till thou know thine eternal state. Dost not thou, as Ezek. xii. 18, " eat thy bread with quaking, and drink thy drink with trembling and carefulness ;" and say, Alas! though I have these to refresh my body now, yet I know not what I shall have hereafter ? Even when thou liest down to take thy rest, methinks the uncertainty of thy salvation should keep thee waking, or amaze thee in thy dreams, and trouble thy sleep ; and thou shouldst say, as Job in a smaller distress than thine, " When I say. My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint; then thou scarest me with dreams, and terri-fiest me through visions," Job vii. 13, 14.

6. Doth it not grieve thee to see the people of God so comfortable, when thou hast none thyself; and to think of the glory which they shall inherit, when thou hast no assurance thyself of ever enjoying it ?

7. What shift dost thou make to think of thy dying hour ? Thou knowest it is near, and there is no avoiding it, nor any medicine found out that can prevent it. Thou knowest it is the " king of terrors," Job xviii. 14, and the very inlet to thine unchangeable state. The godly that have some assurance of their future welfare, have yet much ado to submit to it willingly, and find that to die comfortably is a very difficult work. How then canst thou think of it without astonishment, who hast got no assurance of the rest to come ? If thou shouldst die this day, (and " who knows what a day may bring forth ? " Prov. xxvii. 1,) thou dost not know whether thou shalt go straight to heaven or to hell : and canst thou be merry till thou art got out of this dangerous state { Me-

thinks that iu Deut. xxviii. 25—27, should be the looking-glass of thy heart.

8. What shift dost thou make to preserve thy heart from horror, when thou reniembereiit the great judgment-day, and the everlasting flames ? Dost thou not tremble as Felix, when thou hearest of it, Acts xxiv. 2o; and as the elders of the town trembled when Samuel came in, saying, " Comest thou peaceably ?" 1 Sam. xvi. 4. So methinks thou shouldst do when the minister comes into the pulpit; and thy heart, whenever thou meditatest of that day, should meditate terror, Isa. xxxiii. IS, and thou shouldst even be a terror to thyself, and all thy friends, Jer. xx. 4. If the keepers trembled and became as dead men, when they did but see the angels, Matt, xxviii. o, 4, how canst thou think of living in hell with devils till thou hast got some sound assurance that thou shalt escape it i Or, if thou seldom think of these things, the wonder is as great, what shift thou makest to keep those thoughts from thy heart, and to live so quietly in so doleful a state. Thy bed is veiy soft, or thy heart is very hard, if thou canst sleep soundly in this uncertain case.

I have showed thee the danger, let me next proceed to show thee the remedy.

If this general uncertainty of the world about their salvation, were constrained or remediless, then must it be borne as other unavoidable miseries, and it were unmeet either to reprove them for it, or dissuade them from it; but, alas ! the common cause is wilfulness and negligence. Men will not be persuaded to use the remedy, though it be easy, and at hand, prescribed to them by God himself, and all necessary helps thereunto provided for them. The great means to conquer this uncertainty, is self-examination, or the serious and diligent trying of a man's heart and state by the rule of Scripture. The Scripture tells us plainly who shall be saved, and who shall not : so that if men would but first search the word, to find out who be these men that shall have rest, and what be their properties by which they may be known ; and then next search carefully their own hearts, till they find whether they are those men or not; how could they choose but come to some certainty ? But, alas ! either men understand not the nature and use of this duty, or else they will not be at the pains to try. Go through a congregation of a thousand men, and how few of them shall you meet with, that ever bestowed one hour in all their lives in a close examination of their title to heaven ! Ask thy own conscience, reader, when was the time, and where was the place, that ever thou solemnly tookest thy heart to task, as in the sight of God, and examinedst it by Scripture interrogatories, whether it be born again and renewed, or not; whether it be holy, or not ; whether it be set most on God, or on creatures ; on heaven, or on earth ; and didst follow on this examination till thou hadst discovered thy condition, and so passed sentence on thyself accordingly.

But because this is a work of so high concernment, and so commonly neglected, and men's souls do so much languish everywhere

under this neglect, I will, therefore, though it he digressive, 1. Show you that it is possihle, by trying, to come to a certainty ; 2. Show you the hinderances that keep men from trying, and from assurance ; 3. I will lay down some motives to persuade you to it; 4. I will give you some directions how you should perform it; 5. And lastly, I will lay you down some marks out of Scripture, by which you may try, and so come to an infallible certainty, whether you are the people of God, for whom this rest remaineth, or not. And to prepare the way to these, I will, a little, first open to you, what examination is, and what that certainty is, which we may expect to attain to. Definition of ex Sect. II. This self-examination is, an inquiry

amination. jnto the course of our lives, but more especially

into the inward acts of our souls, and trying of their sincerity by the word of God, and accordingly judging of our real and relative estate.

So that examination containeth several acts : 1, There must be the trial of the physical truth, or sincerity of our acts ; that is, an inquiry after the very being of them ; as whether there be such an act as belief, or desire, or love to God within us or no : this must be discovered by conscience, and the internal sense of the soul ,• whereby it is able to feel and perceive its own acts, and to know whether they be real or counterfeit.

2. The next is, the trial of the moral truth or sincerity of our acts ; whether they are such as agree with the rule and the nature of their objects. This is a discursive work of reason, comparing our acts with the rule ; it implieth the former knowledge of the being of our acts, and it implieth the knowledge of Scripture in the point in question, and also the belief of the truth of Scripture. This moral, spiritual truth of our acts, is another thing, far different from the natural or physical truth ; as far as a man's being differeth from his honesty. One man loveth his wife under the notion of a harlot, or only to satisfy his lust; another loveth his wife with a true, conjugal affection : the former is true, physical love, or true in point of being ; but the latter only is true, moral love. The like may be said in regard of all the acts of the soul. There is a believing, loving, trusting, fearing, rejoicing, all true in point of being, and not counterfeit; which yet are false in point of morality and right being, and so no gracious acts at all.

3. The third thing contained in the work of self-examination, is, the judging or concluding of our real estate ; that is, of the habitual temper or disposition of our hearts, by the quality of their acts; whether they are such acts as prove a habit of holiness, or only some slight disposition; or whether they are only, by some accident, enticed or enforced, and prove neither habit nor disposition. The like, also, of our evil acts. Now, the acts which prove a habit must be, 1. Free and cheerful; not constrained, or such as we had rather not do if we could help it. 2. Frequent ; if there be opportunity. 3. Thorough and serious: where note also, that the trial of the soul's disposition by those acts, which make after

the end, as desire, love, &c. to God, Christ, heaven, is always more necessary and more certain, tiian the trial of its disposition to the means only.

4. The last act in this examination, is to conclude or judge of our relative estate, from the former judgment of our acts and habits. As if we find sincere acts, we may conclude that we have the habits ; so from both, we may conclude of our relation. So that our relations, or habits, are neithtn- of them felt or known immediately, but must be gathered from the knowledge of our acts, which maybe felt: as for example ; K I inquire, whether I believe in Christ, or love God.' 2. If I find that I do, then I inquire next, whether I do it sincerely, according to the rule and the nature of the object ? 3. If I find that I do so, then I conclude that I am regenerate or sanctified. 4. And from both these, I conclude that I am pardoned, reconciled, justified, and adopted into sonship, and title to the inheritance. All this is done in a way of reasoning, thus :

1. He that believes in spiritual sincerity, or he that loves God in spiritual sincerity, is a regenerate man: but I do so believe and love ; therefore, I am regenerate.

2. He that believes in sincerity, or he that is regenerate, for the conclusion will follow upon either, is also pardoned, justified, and adopted: but I do so believe, or I am regenerate; therefore, I am justified, &c.

Sect. Ill, Thus you see what examination is, . , ^

-,.-r , . 1 . . 1 • i • -^ ■ Assurance what.

Now let us see what this certainty or assurance is; and indeed it is nothing else but the knowledge of the foremen-tioned conclusions, that we are sanctified, justified, shall be glorified, as they arise from the premises in the work of examination.

So that here you may observe, how immediately this assurance followeth the conclusion in examination, and so, how necessary examination is to the obtaining of assurance, and how conducible thereunto.

Also, that we are not speaking of the certainty of the object, or of the thing itself considered, ];ut of the certainty of the subject, or of the thing to our knowledge.

Also you may observe, that before we can come to this certainty of the conclusion, That we are justified, and shall be glorified, there must be a certainty of the premises. And in respect of the major proposition. He that believeth sincerely, shall be justified and saved; there is requisite in us, 1. A certainty of knowledge; that such a proposition is written in Scripture. 2. A certainty of assent or faith; that this Scripture is the word of God, and true. Also, in respect of the minor proposition. But I do sincerely believe, or love, &c. there is requisite, 1. A certainty of the truth of our faith in point of being; 2, And a certainty of its truth in point of morality, or congruence with the rule, or its right being. And then followeth the assurance, which is the certainty that the conclusion. Therefore I am justified, &c. followeth necessarily upon the former premises.

Hereby also you must carefully distinguish betwixt the several degrees of assurance. All assurance is not of the highest degree. It differs in strength, according to the different degrees of apprehension, in all the forementioned points of certainty which are necessary thereunto. He that can truly raise the foresaid conclusion, that he is justified, &c. from the premises, hath some degree of assurance, though he do it with much w'eakness, and staggering, and doubting. The weakness of our assurance in any one point of the premises, will accordingly weaken our assurance in the conclusion.

Some, when they speak of certainty of salvation, do mean only such a certainty as excludeth all doubting, and think nothing else can be called certainty, but this high degree. Perhaps some papists mean this, when they deny a certainty. Some also maintain, that St. Paul's plerophory, or full assurance, is the highest degree of assurance, and that some Christians do in this life attain to it. But Paul calls it full assurance, in comparison of lower degrees, and not because it is perfect. For if assurance be perfect, then all our certainty of knowledge, faith, and sense in the premises, must be perfect: and if some grace be perfect, why not all ? And so we turn Novatians, Catharists, Perfectionists. Perhaps in some, their certainty may be so great that it may overcome all sensible doubting, or sensible stirrings of unbelief, by reason of the sw^eet and powerful acts and effects of that certainty ; and yet it doth not overcome all unbelief and uncertainty, so as to expel or nullify them; but a certain measure of them remaineth still. Even as when you would heat cold water by the mixture of hot, you may pour in the hot so long till no coldness is felt, and yet the water may be far from the highest degree of heat. So faith may suppress the sensible stirrings of unbelief, and certainty prevail against all the trouble of uncertainty, and yet be far from the highest degree.

So that by this which is said, you may answer the question. What certainty is to be attained in this life; and what certainty it is that we press men to labour for and expect ?

Furthermore ; you must be sure to distinguish betwixt assurance itself, and the joy, and strength, and other sweet effects which follow assurance, or which immediately accompany it.

It is possible that there may be assurance, and yet no comfort, or little. There are many unskilful, but self-conceited disputers of late, better to manage a club than an argument, who tell us, that it must be the Spirit that must assure us of salvation, and not our marks and evidences of grace ; that our comfort must not be taken from any thing in ourselves ; that our justification must be immediately believed, and not proved by our signs of sanctification, &c. Of these in order. 1. It is as wise a question to ask. Whether our assurance come from the Spirit, or our evidence, or our faith, &c. as to ask. Whether it be our meat, or our stomach, our teeth, or our hands, that feed us ? or whether it be our eye-sight, or the sun-light, by which we see things ? They are distinct causes, all necessary to the producing of the same effect.

So that, l)y what hath been said, you may discern that the Spirit, and knowledge, and faith, and Scripture, and inward hoHncss and. reason, and inward sense of conscience, have all several parts and necessary uses in producing our assurance ; which I will show you distinctly.

1. To the Spirit belong these particulars. 1. He hath indited those Scriptures which contain the promise of our pardon and salvation. 2. He giveth us the habit or power of believing. 3. He helpeth us also to believe actually, that the word is true, and to receive Christ and the privileges ottered in the promise. 4. He worketh in us those graces, and exciteth those gracious acts with us, which are the evidences* or marks of our interest to pardon and life : he helpeth us to perform those acts which God hath made to be the condition of pardon and glory. 5. He helpeth us to feel and discover these acts in ourselves. G. He helpeth us to compare them with the rule, and finding out their qualifications, to judge of their sincerity and acceptation with God. 7. He helpeth our reason to conclude rightly of our state from our acts. He enliveneth and heighteneth our apprehension in these particulars, that our assurance may accordingly be strong and lively. 8. He exciteth our joy, and filleth with comfort (when he pleaseth) upon this assurance. None of all these could we perform well of ourselves.

2. The part which the Scripture hath in this work, is, 1. It af-fordeth us the major proposition, that whosoever believeth sincerely shall be saved. 2. It is the rule by which our acts must be tried, that we may judge of their moral truth.

3. The part that knowledge hath in it, is to know that the foresaid proposition is written in Scripture.

4. The work of faith is to believe the truth of that Scripture, and to be the matter of one of our chief evidences.

5. Our holiness, and true faith, as they are marks and evidences, are the very medium of our argument, from which we conclude.

G. Our conscience and internal sense do acquaint us with both the being and qualifications of our inward acts, which are this medium, and which are called marks.

7. Our reason, or discourse, is necessary to form the argument, and raise the conclusion from the premises; and to compare our acts with the rule, and judge of the sincerity, &c.

So that you see our assurance is not an effect of any one single cause alone. And so neither merely of faith, by signs, nor by the Spirit.

From all this you may gather, 1. What the seal of the Spirit is, to wit, the works or fruits of the Spirit in us. 2. What the testimony of the Spirit is (for if it be not some of the forementioned acts, I yet know it not). 3. What the testimony of conscience is.

And, if I be not mistaken, the testimony of the Spirit, and the testimony of conscience, are two concurrent testimonies, or causes,

* I use the word evidence all along in the vulgar sense as the same with signs, and not in the proper sense as the schools dp.

to produce one and the same effect, and to afford the premises to the same conchision, and then to raise our joy thereupon; so that they may well be said to witness together. Not one laying down the entire conclusion of itself, " that we are the children of God ;" and then the other attesting the same entirely again of itself: but as concurrent causes to the same numerical conclusion.

But this with submission to better judgments and further search.

By this also you may see, that the common distinction of certainty of adherence, and certainty of evidence, must be taken with a grain or two of salt.* For there is no certainty without evidence, any more than there is a conclusion without a medium. A small degree of certainty hath some small glimpse of evidence. Indeed, 1. The assent to the truth of a promise, 2. And the acceptation of Christ offered with his benefits, are both before and without any sight or consideration of evidence, and are themselves our best evidence,! being that faith which is the condition of our justification ; but before any man can, in the least assurance, conclude that he is the child of God, and justified, he must have some assurance of that mark or evidence. For who can conclude absolutely that he will receive the thing contained in a conditional promise, till he know that he hath performed the condition ? For those that say, There is no condition of the new covenant, I think them not worthy a word of confutation.

And for their assertion,* " that we are bound immediately to believe that we are justified, and in special favour with God;" it is such as no man of competent knowledge in the Scripture, and belief of its truth, can once imagine. For if every man must believe this, then most must believe a lie, for they shall never be justified; yea, all must at first believe a lie, for they are not justified till they believe; and the believing that they are justified, is not the faith that justifieth them. If only some men must believe this, how should it be known who they be ? The truth is, that we are justified, is not properly to be believed at all: for nothing is to be believed which is not written : but it is no where written that you or I are justified : only one of these premises is written, from whence we may draw the conclusion, that we are justified, if so be that our own hearts do afford us the other of the premises. So that our actual justification is not a matter of mere faith, but a conclusion from faith and conscience together. If God have no where promised to any man justification immediately, without condition, then no man can believe it: but God hath no where promised it absolutely; therefore, &c. Nor hath he declared to any man, that is not first a believer, that he loveth him with any

* The distinction used in the schools, oi certitudo fidei, and certitudo evidentia, I deny not: but tliat hatli a quite different sense from this as it is used.

t Therefore I saj' not that our first comfort, much less our justification, is procured hy the sight of evidences; but our assurance is.

% Their common error, that justifying faith is nothing else but a persuasion, more or less, of the love of God to us, is the root of this and many more mistakes. To justify us, and to assure us that we are justified, arc quite different things, and procured by different ways, and at several times, usually.

more than a connnon love ; therefore, no more can be believed but a common love to any such. For the eternal love and election are manifest to no man before he is a believer.

Sect. IV, 2, Having thus showed you what examination is, and what assurance is, I come to the second thing promised, to show you, that such an infallible certainty of salvation may be attained, and ought to be laboured for, though a perfect certainty cannot here be attained : and that examination is the means to attain it. In which I shall be the briei'er, because many writers against the papists on this point, have said enough already. Yet somewhat I will say: 1. Because it is the common conceit of the ignorant vulgar, that an infallible certainty cannot be attained, 2, And many have taught and printed that it is only the testimony of the Spirit that can assure us; and that this proving our justification by our sanctification, and searching after marks and signs in ourselves for the procuring of assurance, is a dangerous and deceitful way. Thus we have the papists, the Antinoraians, and the ignorant vulgar, conspiring against this doctrine of assurance and examination. \\ hich I maintain against them by these arguments.

1. Scripture tells us we may know, and that the saints before us have known their justification, and future salvation, 2 Cor. v. 1 ; Rom. viii. 30; John xxi. 15; I John v. 19; iv. 13; iii. 14—24; ii. 3—5; Rom. viii. 14, 19, 36; Eph. iii. 12. I refer you to the places for brevity.

2. If we may be certain of the premises, then may we also be certain of the undeniable conclusion of them. But here we may be certain of both the premises. For, 1. " That whosoever believeth in Christ shall not perish, but shall have everlasting life," is the voice of the gospel; and therefore that we may be sure of: that we are such believers, may be known by conscience and internal sense. I know all the question is this, whether the moral truth or sincerity of our faith, and other graces, can be known thus or not ? And that it may, I prove thus :

1. From the natural use of this conscience, and internal sense, which is to acquaint us not only with the being, but the qualifications of the acts of our souls. All voluntary motions are sensible, and though the heart is so deceitful, that no man can certainly know the heart of another, and with much difficulty clearly know his own ; yet, by diligent observation and examination, known they may be ; for though our inward sense and conscience may be depraved, yet not extirpated, or quite extinguished.

2. The commands of believing, repenting, &c. were in vain, especially as the condition of the covenant, if we could not know whether we perform them or not.

3. The Scripture would never make such a wide diflPerence between the godly and the wicked, the children of God and the children of the devil, and set forth the happiness of the one and the misery of the other so largely, and make this difference to run through all the veins of its doctrine, if a man cannot know which of these two estates he is in.

4. Much less would the Holy Ghost bid us " give all diligence to make our calling and election sure/' if it could not be done, 2 Pet. i. 10. And that this is not meant of objective certainty, but of the sul)iective, appeareth in this ; that the apostle mentioneth not salvation, or any thing to come, but calling and election, which to believers were objectively certain before, as being both past.

5. And to what purpose should we be so earnestly urged to examine, and prove, and try ourselves, whether we be in the faith, and whether Christ be in us, or we be reprobates ? 1 Cor. xi. 28; 2 Cor. xiii. 5. Why should we search for that which cannot be found ?

6. How can we obey those precepts which require us to rejoice always ;* 1 Thess. v. IG: to call God our Father, Luke xi. 12: to live in his praises, Psal. xlix. I—5 : and to long for Christ's coming, Rev. xxii. 17, 20; 1 Thess. i. 10; and to comfort ourselves with the mention of it, 2 Thess. iv. 18 : which are all the consequents of assurance. Who can do any of these heartily, that is not in some measure sure that he is the child of God ?

7. There are some duties that either the saints only, or chiefly, are commanded to perform ; and how shall that be done, if we cannot know that we are saints ? Psal. cxliv. 5; cxxxii. 9 ; xxx. 4; xxxi. 23, &c.

Thus I have proved that a certainty may be attained; an infallible, though not a perfect certainty; such as excludeth deceit, though it oxcludeth not all degrees of doubting. If Bellarmine, by his conjectural certainty, do mean this infallible though imperfect certainty, (as I doubt he doth not,) then I would not much contend with him : and I acknowledge that it is not properly a certainty of mere faith, but mixed.

Iliuderances of ex- Scct. V. 3. The third thing that I promised, is, animation. to show you what are the hinderances which keep

men from examination and assurance. I shall, 1. Show what hinders them from trying. And, 2. What hindereth them from knowing, when they do try : that so, when you see the impediments, you may avoid them.

■ g And, 1. We cannot doubt but Satan will do his

part, to hinder us from such a necessary duty as this : if all the power he hath can do it, or all the means and instruments which he can raise up, he will be sure above all duties to keep you oif from this. He is loth the godly should have that joy, and assurance, and advantage, against corruption, which the faithful performance of self-examination would procure them. And for the ungodly, he knows, if they should once fall close to this examining task, they would find out his deceits, and their own danger, and so be very likely to escape him; if they did but faithfully perform this duty, he were likely to lose most of the subjects of his kingdom. How could he get so many millions to hell willingly, if they knew they went thither ? And how could they choose but know, if they did thoroughly try, having such a clear light and sure rule in the Scripture, to discover it ? If the beast

did know that he is ^oing to the slaughter,"he would not he driven so easily to it, hut would strive for his life hefore he comes to die, as well as he doth at the time of his death. If lialaam had seen as much of the danger as his ass, instead of his driving on so furiously, he would have been as loth to proceed as he. If the Syrians had known Mhither they were going, as well as Elisha did, they would have stopped hefore they found themselves in the hands of their enemies, 2 Kings vi. 19, 20. So, if sinners did hut know whither they were hasting, they would stop before they are ingulfed in damnation. If every swearer, drunkard, whoremonger, lover of the world, or unregenerate person whatsoever, did certainly know that the way he is in will never bring him to heaven, and that if he die in it he shall undoubtedly perish, Satan could never get him to proceed so resolvedly. Alas! he would then think every day a year till he were out of the danger; and whetlier he were eating, drinking, working, or whatever he were doing, the thoughts of his danger would be still in his mind, and this voice would be still in his ears, " Except thou repent and be converted, thou shalt surely perish." The devil knows well enough, that if he cannot keep men from trying their states, and knowing their misery, he shall hardly be able to keep them from repentance and salvation. And, therefore, he deals with them as Jael with Sisera; she gives him fair words, and food, and layeth him to sleep, and covereth his face, and then she comes upon him softly and strikes the nail into his temples, Judg. iv. 10. And as the Philistines with Samson, who first put out his eyes, and then made him grind in their mills, Judg. xvi. 21. If the pit be not covered, who but the blind will fall into it ? If the snare be not hid, the bird will escape it: Satan knows how to angle for souls better than to show them the hook or line, and to fright them away with a noise, or with his own appearance.

I'herofore, he labours to keep them from a searching ministry; or to keep the minister from helping them to search ; or to take off the edge of the word, that it may not pierce and divide; or to turn away their thoughts, or to possess them with prejudice. Satan is acquainted with all the preparations and studies of the minister; he knows when he hath provided a searching sermon, fitted to the state and necessity of a hearer ; and therefore he will keep him away that day, if it be possible, above all, or else cast him asleep, or steal away the word by the cares and talk of the world, or some way prevent its operation, and the sinner's obedience.

This is the first hinderance.

Sect. VI. 2. Wicked men also are great impediments to poor sinners when they should examine and discover their estates. 1. Their examples hinder much. When an ignorant sinner seeth all his friends and neighbours do as he doth, and live quietly in the same state with hmiself, yea, the rich and learned as well as others, this is an exceeding great temptation to him to proceed in his security. 2. Also, the merry company and pleasant discourse of these men, doth take away the thoughts of his spiritual state, and doth make

the understanding drunk with their sensual delight: so that if the Spirit had before put into them any jealousy of themselves, or any purpose to try themselves, this jovial company doth soon quench them all, 3. Also, their continual discourse of nothing but matters of the world, doth damp all these purposes for self-trying, and make them forgotten. 4. Their railings also, and scorning at godly persons, is a very great impediment to multitudes of souls, and possesseth them with such a prejudice and dislike of the way to heaven, that they settle resolvedly in the way that they are in. 5. Also, their constant persuasions, allurements, threats, &c. hinder much. God doth scarce ever open the eyes of a poor sinner, to see that all is naught with him, and his way is wrong, but presently there is a multitude of Satan's apostles ready to flatter him, and daub, and deceive, and settle him again in the quiet possession of his former master. What, say they, do you make a doubt of your salvation, who have lived so Avell, and done nobody harm, and been beloved of all ? God is merciful; and if such as you shall not be saved, God help a great many: what do you think is become of all your forefathers ? and what will become of all your friends and neighbours that live as you do; will they all be damned; shall none be saved, think you, but a few strict precisians ? Come, come, if ye hearken to these books or preachers, they will drive you to despair shortly, or drive you out of your wits: they must have something to say : they would have all like themselves : are not all men sinners; and did not Christ die to save sinners ? Never trouble your head with these thoughts, but believe and you shall do well. Thus do they follow the soul that is escaping from Satan, with restless cries, till they have brought him back: oh, how many thousands have such charms kept asleep in deceit and security, till death and hell have awakened and better informed them ! The Lord calls to the sinner, and tells him, " The gate is strait, the way is narrow, and few find it: try and examine whether thou be in faith or no: give all diligence to make sure in time," Luke xiii. 34; 2 Cor. xiii. 5; 2 Pet. i. 10. And the world cries out clean contrary; Never doubt, never trouble yourselves with these thoughts. I entreat the sinner that is in this strait to consider, that it is Christ, and not their fathers, or mothers, or neighbours, or friends, that must judge them at last; and if Christ condemn them, these cannot save them : and therefore common reason may tell them, that it is not from the words of ignorant men, but from the word of God, that they must fetch their comforts and hopes of salvation. When Ahab would inquire among the multitudes of flattering prophets, it was his death. They can flatter men into the snare, but they cannot tell how to bring them out. O, take the counsel of the Holy Ghost, " Let no man deceive you with vain words; for because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience : be not ye therefore partakers with them," Eph. v. 6, 7 : and, " Save yourselves from this untoward generation," Acts ii. 40.

3. But the greatest hinderances are in men's own hearts.

Sect, VII. I. Some are so ignorant that they know not what self-examination is, nor what a minister means when he per-suadeth them to try themselves; or they know not that there is any necessity of it; but think every man is bound to believe that God is his Father, and that his sins are pardoned, whether it be true or false; and that it were a great fault to make any question of it : or, they do not think that assurance can be attained, or that there is any such great diiference betwixt one man and another ; but that we are all Christians, and therefore need not to trouble ourselves any further; or, at least, they know not wherein the difference lies, nor how to set upon the searching of their heart, nor to find out its secret motions, and to judge accordingly. They have as gross conceits of that regeneration, which they must search for, as Nicodemus had, John iii. 5. And when they should try whether the Spirit be in them, they are like those that " knew not whether there were a Holy Ghost to be received or no," Acts xix. 2.

2. Some are such infidels that they will not believe that ever God will make such a difference betwixt men in the life to come, and therefore will not search themselves whether they differ here : though judgment and resurrection be in their creed, yet they are not in their faith.

3. Some are so dead-hearted, that they perceive not how nearly it doth concern them ; let us say what we can to them, they lay it not to heart, but give us the hearing, and there is an end.

4. Some are so possessed with self-love and pride, that they will not so much as suspect any such danger to themselves. Like a proud tradesman, who scorns the motion when his friends desire him to cast up his books, because they are afraid he will break. As some fond parents, that have an overweening conceit of their own children, and therefore will not believe or hear any evil of them. Such a fond self-love cloth hinder men from suspecting and trying their states.

5. Some are so guilty that they dare not try. They are so fearful that they shall find their states unsound, that they dare not search into them: and yet they dare venture them to a more dreadful trial.

6. Some are so far in love with their sin, and so far in dislike with the way of God, that they dare not fall on the trial of their ways, lest they be forced from the course which they love to that which they loathe.

7. Some are so resolved already never to change their present state, that they neglect examination as a useless thing. Before they will turn so precise, and seek a new way, when they have lived so long, and gone so far, they will put their eternal state to the venture, come of it what will. And when a man is fully resolved to hold on his way, and not to turn back, be it right or wrong, to what end should he inquire whether he be right or no ?

8. Most men are so taken up with their worldly affairs, and are so busy in driving the trade of providing for the flesh, that they cannot set themselves to the trying of their title to heaven. They

have another kind of happiness in their eye, which they are pursuing, which will not suffer them to make sure of heaven.

9. Most men are so clogged with a laziness and slothfulness of spirit, that they will not be persuaded to he at the pains of. an hour's examination of their own hearts. It requireth some labour and diligence to accomplish it thoroughly, and they will rather venture all than set about it.

10. But the most common and dangerous impediment is that false faith and hope, commonly called presumption, which bears up the hearts of the most of the world, and so keeps them from suspecting their danger.

Thus you see what abundance of difficulties must be overcome before a man can closely set upon the examining of his heart. I do but name them for brevity sake.

Hinderances which , ^ect. VIII. And if a man do break through all keep many that do these mipecuments, and set upon the duty, yet as-cxamine from at- surance is not presently attained. Of those few

taming strong assur ^ ^ ■ ■ ^ n, ^ i n

ance, and cause many who do uiquire alter marks and means ot assur-to be deceived. ance, and bestow some pains to learn the differ-

ence between the sound Christian and the unsound, and look often into their own hearts; yet divers are deceived, and do miscarry, especially through these following causes :

1. There is such a confusion and darkness in the soul of man, especially of an unregenerate man, that he can scarcely tell what he doth, or what is in him. As one can hardly find any thing in a house where nothing keeps its place, but all is cast on a heap together; so is it in the heart where all things are in disorder, especially when darkness is added to this disorder: so that the heart is like an obscure cave or dungeon, where there is but a little crevice of light, and a man must rather grope than see. No wonder if men mistake in searching such a heart, and so miscarry in judging of their estate.

2. And the rather, because most men do accustom themselves to be strangers at home, and are little taken up with observing the temper and motions of their own hearts. All their studies are employed without them, and they are no where less acquainted than in their own breasts.

3. Besides, many come to the work with forestalling conclusions: they are resolved what to judge before they try : they use the duty but to sti'engthen their present conceits of themselves, and not find out the truth of their condition ; like a bribed judge, who examines each party as if he would judge uprightly, when he is resolved which way the cause shall go beforehand; or, as perverse disputers, who argue only to maintain their present opinions rather than to try those opinions whether they are right or wrong. Just so do men examine their hearts.

4. Also, men are partial in their own cause. They are ready to think their great sins small, and their small sins to be none; their gifts of nature to be the work of grace, and their gifts of common grace to be the special grace of the saints. They are straightway

CiiAi'. VII. 'IHK SAINTS' KVKKLASriNd RKST. ;iO;5

ready to say," All those have I kept from my youth ;" anil, " I am rich and increased," &c. Matt. xix. IcO ; llcv. iii. 17. The first common excellency that they meet with in themselves, doth so dazzle their eyes, that they are presently satisfied that all is well, and look no further.

5. Besides, most men do search but hy the halves. If it will not easily and quickly be done, they are discouraged, and leave off. Few set to it, and follow it, as beseems them in a work of such moment. He must give all diligence that means to make sure.

G. Also, men try themselves by false marks and rules, not knowing wherein the truth of Christianity doth consist; some looking beyond, and some short of the Scripture standard.

7. Moreover, there is so great likeness between the lowest degree of special grace, and the highest degree of common grace, that it is no wonder if the unskilful be mistaken. It is a great question, whether the main difference between special grace and common be not rather gradual than specifical. If it should be so, as some think, then the discovery will be much more difficult. However, to discern by what principle our affections are moved, and to what ends, and with what sincerity, is not very easy; there being so many wrong ends and motives, which may excite the like acts. Every grace in the saints hath its counterfeit in the hypocrite.

8. Also, men use to try themselves by unsafe marks ; either looking for a high degree of grace, instead of a lower degree in sincerity, as many doubting Christians do ; or else inquiring only into their outward actions, or into their inward affections, without their ends, motives, and other qualifications : the sure evidences are, faith, love, &c. that are essential parts of our Christianity, and that be nearest to the heart.

9. Lastly : Men frequently miscarry in this working, by setting on it in their own strength. As some expect the Spirit should do it without them, so others attempt it thenisclves, without seeking or expecting the he-lp of the Spirit. ]3oth these will certainly miscarry in their assurance. How far the Spirit's assistance is necessary, is showed before, and the several acts which it must perform for us.

CHAPTER VIII.

Fl'RTlIER CAUSKS OK DOUBTING AMONG CHRISTIANS.

Sect. I. Because the comfort of a Christian's Some further hinder-life doth so much consist in his assurance of God's antes which keep

. , , , , 1-1 c 1 • some Christians witli-

special love, and because the right way or obtain- out assurance and ing it is so much controverted of late, I will here comfort. proceed a little further in opening to you some other hinderances which keep true Christians from comfortable certainty, besides the

forementioned errors in the work of examination : though I would still have you remember and be sensible, that the neglect or slighty performance of that great duty, and not following on the search with seriousness and constancy, is the most common hinderance for aught I have yet found.

I shall now add these ten more, which I find very ordinary impediments, and therefore desire Christians more carefully to consider and beware of them.

1. One common and great cause of doubting and uncertainty, is, the weakness and small measure of our grace. A little grace is next to none : small things are hardly discerned. He that will see a small needle, a hair, a mote, or atom, must have clear light and good eyes; but houses, and towns, and mountains, are easily discerned. Most Christians content themselves with a small measure of grace, and do not follow on to spiritual strength and manhood. They believe so weakly, and love God so little, that they can scarce find whether they believe and love at all; like a man in a swoon, whose pulse and breathing is so weak and obscure that it can hardly be perceived whether they move at all, and consequently whether the man be alive or dead.

T, , The chief remedy for such, would be to follow

KemedV. ■, ■ ^ •^^ ^ ■ 1 • 1 T-)l

on then- duty, till their graces be increasecL Jrly your work ; wait upon God in the use of his prescribed means, and he will undoubtedly bless you with increase and strength. Oh that Christians would bestow most of that time in getting more grace, which they bestow in anxious doubtings whether they have any or none; and that they would lay out those serious affections in praying, and seeking to Christ for more grace, which they bestow in fruitless complaints of their supposed gracelessness ! I beseech thee. Christian, take this advice as from God; and then, when thou believest strongly, and lovest fervently, thou canst not doubt whether thou do believe and love or not, any more than a man that is burning hot can doubt whether he be warm ; or a man that is strong and lusty can doubt whether he be alive. Strong affections will make you feel them. Who loveth his friends, or wife, or child, or any thing strongly, and doth not know it ? A great measure of grace is seldom doubted of; or, if it be, you may quickly find when you seek and try.

Sect. II. 2. Another cause of uncomfortable living is, that Christians look more at their present cause of comfort or discomfort, than they do at their future happiness, and the way to attain it. They look after signs which may tell them what they are, more than they do at precepts which tell them what they should do. They are very desirous to know whether they are justified and beloved, or not; but they do not think what course they should take to be justified, if they be not; as if their present case must needs be their everlasting case, and if they be now unpardoned, there were no remedy. Why, I beseech thee, consider this, O doubting soul ! What if all were as bad as thou dost fear, and none of thy sins were yet pardoned ; is not the remedy at hand ? May not all

this 1)0 clone in a moment i" Dost thou not know that thou mayst have Christ and j^ardon whenever thou wilt { Call not this a loose or strange doctrine. Christ is willing if thou be willing. He olTenth himself and all his benefits to thee : he pr(>sseth them on thee, and urgeth thee to accept them. He will condemn thee, and destroy thee, if thou wilt not accept them. \\'hy dost thou, therefore, stand whining and complaining that thou art not pardoned and adopted, when thou shouldst take them, being offered thee ! V^eie he not mad that would lie weeping, and wringing his hands, because he is not pardoned, when his prince stands by all the while offering him a pardon, and entreating, and threatening, and persuading, and correcting him, and all to make him take it ? \\ hat would you say to such a man ; would you not chide him for his folly, and say. If thou wouldst have pardon and life, why dost thou not take it I ^^ hy, then, do you not say the like to yourselves { Know ye not that pardon and adoption are offered you only on the condition of your believing .'' And this believing is nothing else but the accepting of Christ for thy Lord and Saviour, as he is ollered to thee with his benefits in the gospel : and this accepting is principally, if not only, the act of thy will. So that if thou be willing to have Christ upon his own terms, that is, to save and rule thee, then thou art a believer : thy willingness is thy faith ; and if thou have faith, thou hast the surest of all evidences. Justifying faith is not thy persuasion of God's special love to thee, or of thy justification, but thy accepting Christ to make thee just and lovely. It may be thou wilt say, 1 cannot believe ; it is not so easy a matter to believe as you make it. Answ. Indeed, to those that are not willing, it is not easy, God only can make them willing. But to him that is willing to have Christ for King and Saviour, I will not say, believing is easy, but it is already performed ; for this is believing. Let me, therefore, put this question to every doubting, complaining soul, ^^'hat is it that thou art complaining and mourning for i ^Vhat makes thee walk so sadly as thou dost !' Because thou hast not Christ and his benefits ( Why, art thou willing to have them on the forementioned condition, or art thou not i If thou be willing^ thou hast him : thy accepting is thy believing : " To as many as receive him, (that is, accept him,) to them he gives power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name," John i. 12. But if thou art not willing, why dost thou complain ? Methinks the tongue should follow the bent of the heart or will, and they that would not have Christ should be speaking against him, at least, against his laws and ways, and not complaining because they do not enjoy him. Dost thou groan and make such moan for want of that which thou wouldst not have .' If, indeed, thou wouldst not have Christ for thy King and Saviour, then have I nothing to say but to persuade thee to be willing. Is it not madness, then, to lie complaining that we have not Christ, when we may have him if we will .'' If thou have him not, take him, and cease thy complaints. Thou canst not be so forward and willing as he is : and if he be willing, and thou be willing, who X 2

shall break the match ? I will not say, as Mr. Saltmarsh most horribly doth, that we ought no more to question our faith, which is our first and foundation grace, than we ought to question Christ, the foundation of our faith. But this I say, that it were a more wise and direct course to accept Christ offered, which is believing, than to spend so much time in doubting whether we have Christ and faith, or no.

Sect. III. 3. Another cause of many Christians' trouble is, their mistaking assurance for the joy that sometimes accompanieth it; or, at least, confounding them together. Therefore, when they want the joy of assurance, they are as much cast down as if they wanted assurance itself. Dr. Sibbs saith well, that as we cannot have grace but by the work of the Spirit, so must there be a further act to make us know that we have that grace : and v/hen we know we have grace, yet must there be a further act of the Spirit to give us comfort in that knowledge. Some knowledge or assurance of our regenerate and justified state the Spirit gives more ordinarily, but that sensible joy is more seldom and extraordinary. We have cause enough to keep off doubtings and distress of spirit, upon the bare sight of our evidences, though we do not feel any further joys. These complaining souls understand not : and therefore, though they cannot deny their willingness to have Christ, nor many other the like graces, which are infallible signs of their justification and adoption ; yet, because they do not feel their spirits replenished wuth comforts, they throw away all, as if they had nothing. As if a child should no longer take himself for a son than he sees the smiles of his father's face, or heareth the comfortable expressions of his mouth ; and as if the father did cease to be a father whenever he ceaseth those smiles and speeches.

Sect. IV. 4. And yet further is the trouble of these poor souls increased, in that they know not the ordinary way of God's conveying these expected fcomforts. When they hear that they are the free gifts of the Spirit, they presently conceive themselves to be merely passive therein, and that they have nothing to do but to wait when God will bestow them; not understanding that though these comforts are spiritual, yet are they rational ; raised upon the understanding's apprehension of the excellency of God our happiness, and of our interest in him ; and by the rolling of this blessed object in our frequent meditations. The Spirit doth advance, and not destroy our reason ; it doth rectify it, and then use it as its ordinary instrument for the conveyance of things to our affections, and exciting them accordingly, and not lay it aside and affect us without it; therefore, our joys are raised discursively, and the Spirit first revealeth our cause of joy, and then helpeth us to rejoice upon those revealed grounds; so that he who rejoiceth groundedly, knoweth why he rejoiceth ordinarily. Now these mistaken Christians lie waiting when the Spirit doth cast in these comforts into their hearts, while they sit still and labour not to excite their own affections; nay, while they reason against the comforts which they wait for. These men must be taught to know, that the matter of

their comlbrt is in the promises; and thence tiiey must fetch it as oft as they expect it: and that if they set themselves daily and diligently to meditate of the truth of those promises, and of the real excellency contained in them, and of their own title thereto, in this way they may expect the Spirit's assistance for the raising of holy comfort in their souls.*' But if they lie still, bewailing their want of joy, while the full and free promises lie by them, and never take them, and consider, and look into them, and apply them to their hearts by serious meditation, they may complain for want of comfort long enough before they have it, in God's ordinary way of conveyance. God worketh upon men as men, as reasonable creatures; the joy of the promises, and the joy of the Holy Ghost, are one joy.

And those seducers, who, in their ignorance, misguide poor souls in this point, do exceedingly wrong them while they persuade them so to expect their comforts from the Spirit, as not to be any authors of them themselves, not to raise up their own hearts by argumentative means; telling them that such comforts are but hammered by themselves, and not the genuine comforts of the Spirit. How contrary is this to the doctrine of Christ!

Sect. V. 5. Another cause of the trouble of their souls, is, their expecting a greater measure of assurance than God doth usually bestow upon his people. Most think, as long as they have any doubting they have no assurance; they consider not that there are many degrees of infallible certainty below a perfect or an undoubt-ing certainty. They must know, that while they are here they shall know but in part; they shall be imperfect in the knowledge of Scripture, which is their rule in trying; and imperfect in the knowledge of their own obscure, deceitful hearts : some strangeness to God and themselves there will still remain; some darkness will overspread the face of their souls; some unbelief will be making head against their faith ; and some of their grievings of the Spirit will be grievous to themselves, and make a breach in their peace and joy. Yet, as long as their faith is prevailing, and their assurance doth tread down and subdue their doublings, though not quite expel them, they may walk in comfort and maintain their peace; but as long as they are resolved to lie down in sorrow till their assurance be perfect, their days on earth must then be days of sorrow.

Sect. VI. 6. Again, many a soul lies long in trouble, by taking up his comforts in the beginning upon unsound or uncertain grounds.f This may be the case of a gracious soul, who hath better grounds and doth not see them ; and then when they grow to more ripeness

* As if a poor man should complain for want of money, when a chest full stands by him, and lie may take what he will; is it not better to take it out, than lie complaining for want 1

t So some think they are God's people, because they are of such a party, or such a strict opinion ; and when they change their opinion they change their comfort. Some that could have no comfort while tliey were among the orthodox, as soon as they have turned to such or such a sect, have comfort in abundance ; partly through Satan's delusion, and partly because they think their change in opinion hath set them right with God, and therefore they rejoice. So many hypocrites whose religion lieth only in their opinions, have their comfort also only there.

of understanding, and come to find out the insufficiency of their former grounds of comfort, they cast away their comfort wholly, when they should only cast away their rotten props of it, and search for better to support it with. x\s if their comfort and their safety were both of a nature, and both built on the same foundation, they conclude against their safety, because they have discovered the mistake of their former comfort. And there are many much-applauded books and teachers of late, who further the delusion of poor souls in this point, and make them believe that because their former comforts were too legal, and their persuasions of their good state were ill grounded, therefore themselves were under the covenant of works only, and their spiritual condition as unsound as their comforts. These men observe not, that while they deny us the use of marks to know our own state, yet they make use of them themselves, to know the states of others; yea, and of false and insufficient marks too : for to argue from the motive of our persuasion of a good state, to the goodness or badness of that state, is no sound arguing. It followeth not that a man is unregenerate because he judged himself regenerate upon wrong grounds : for perhaps he might have better grounds, and not know it; or else, not know which were good and which bad. Safety and comfort stand not always on the same bottom. Bad grounds do prove the assurance bad which was built upon them, but not always the state bad. These teachers do but toss poor souls up and down as the waves of the sea, making them believe that their state is altered as oft as their conceits of it alter. Alas ! few Christians do come to know either what are solid grounds of comfort, or whether they have any such grounds themselves, in the infancy of Christianity. But as an infant hath life before he knoweth it; and as he hath misapprehensions of himself, and most other things, for certain years together, and yet it will not follow, that therefore he hath no life or reason; so it is in the case in hand. Yet this should persuade both ministers and believers themselves, to lay right grounds for their comfort, in the beginning, as far as may be ; for else, usually when they find the flaw in their comforts and assurance, they will judge it to be a flaw in their safety and real states. Just as I observe most persons do, who turn to errors or heresies ; they took up the truth in the beginning, upon either false or doubtful grounds, and then, when their grounds are overthrown or shaken, they think the doctrine is also overthrown ; and so they let go both together, as if none had solid arguments because they had not, or none could manage them better than they. Even so when they perceive that their arguments for their good state were unsound, they think that their state must needs be as ui:isound.

Sect. VII, 7. Moreover, many a soul lieth long under doubting, through the great imperfection of their very reason, and exceeding weakness of their natural parts Grace doth usually rather turn our parts to their most necessary use, and employ our faculties on better objects, than add to the degree of their natural strength. Many honest hearts have such weak heads, that they know not how

to perform the work of solf-trial; they are not able, rationally, to argue the case ; they will acknowledge the premises, and yet deny the apparent conclusion : or, if they be brought to acknowledge the conclusion, yet they do but iluctuate and stagger in their concession, and hold it so weakly, that every assault may take it from them. If God do not some other way supply to these men the defect of their reason, I see not how they should have clear and settled peace.

Sect. VIII. 8. Another great and too common cause of doubting and discomfort, is the secret maintaining of some known sin. "NVhcn a man liveth in some unwarrantable practice, and God hath oft touched him for it, and conscience is galled, and yet he con-tinueth it, it is no wonder if this person want both assurance and comfort. One would think, that a soul that lieth under the fears of wrath, and is so tender as to tremble and complain, should be as tender of sinning, and scarcely adventure upon the appearance of evil. And yet, sad experience tells us that it is frequently otherwise : I have known too many such, that would complain, and yet sin ; and accuse themselves, and yet sin still; yea, and despair, and proceed in sinning ; and all' arguments and means could not keep them from the wilful connnitting of that sin again and again, which yet they themselves did think would prove their destruction. Yea, some will be carried away with those sins which seem most contrary to their dejected temper. I have known them that would fill men's ears with the constant lamentations of their miserable state, and despairing accusations against themselves, as if they had been the most humble people in the world ; and yet be as passionate iu the maintaining their innocency, when another accuseth them ; and as intolerably peevish, and tender of their own reputation in any thing they are blamed for, as if they were the proudest persons on earth; still denying or extenuating every disgraceful fault that they are charged with.

This cherishing of sins doth hinder assurance these four ways : 1. It doth abate the degree of our graces, and so make them more undiscernible. 2. It obscureth that which it destroyeth not; for it beareth such sway, that grace is not in action, nor seen to stir, nor scarce heard to speak, for the noise of this corruption. 3. It putteth out or dimmeth the eye of the soul, that it cannot see its own condition; and it benumbethand stupifieth, that it caimot feel its own case. 4. But especially, it provoketh God to withdraw himself, his comforts, and the assistance of the Spirit, without which, we may search long enough before we have assurance. God hath made a separation betwixt sin and peace ; though they may consist together in remiss degrees, yet so much as sin prevaileth in the soul, so much will the peace of that soul be defective. As long as thou dost favour or cherish thy pride and self-esteem, thy aspiring projects and love of the world, thy secret lust, and pleasing the desires of the flesh, or any the like unchristian practice, thou expectest assurance and comfort in vain. God will not encourage thee, by his precious gifts, in a course of sinning. This worm will

be crawling and gnawing upon thy conscience ; it will be a fretting, devouring canker to thy consolations. Thou niayst steal a spark of false comfort from thy worldly prosperity or delight; or thou mayst have it from some false opinions, or from the delusions of Satan; but from God thou wilt have no more comfort, than thou makest conscience of sinning. However an Antinomian may tell thee that thy comforts have no such dependence upon thy obedience, nor thy discomforts upon thy disobedience, and therefore may speak as much peace to thee in the course of thy sinning as in thy most conscionable walking, yet thou shalt find by experience that God will not do so. If any man set up his idols in his heart, and put the stumbling-block of his iniquity before his face, and cometh to a minister, or to God, to inquire for assurance and comfort, God will answer that man by himself, and instead of comforting him, he will set his face against him : " He will answer him according to the multitude of his idols." Read Ezek. xv. 3—9.

Sect. IX. 9, Another very great and common cause of want of assurance and comfort, is, when men grow lazy in the spiritual part of duty, and keep not up their graces in constant and lively action. As Dr. Sibbs saith truly, " It is the lazy Christian commonly that lacketh assurance." The way of painful duty is the way of fullest comfort. Christ carrieth all our comforts in his hand : if we are out of that way where Christ is to be met, we are out of the way where comfort is to be had.

These three ways doth this laziness debar us of our comforts.

1. By stopping the fountain, and causing Christ to withhold this blessing from us. Parents use not to smile upon children in their neglects and disobedience. So far as the Spirit is grieved, he will suspend his consolations. Assurance and peace are Christ's great encouragements to faithfulness and obedience : and, therefore, though our obedience do not merit them, yet they usually rise and fall with our diligence in duty. They that have entertained the Antinomian dotages to cover their idleness and viciousness, may talk their nonsense against this at pleasure, but the laborious Christian knows it by experience. As prayer must have faith and fervency to procure its success, besides the bloodshed and intercession of Christ, James v. 15, 16, so must all other parts of our obedience. He that will say to us in that triumphing day, " Well done, good and faithful servant, &c. enter thou into the joy of thy Lord," will also encourage his servants in their most affectionate and spiritual duties, and say, " Well done, good and faithful servant, take this foretaste of thy everlasting joy." If thou grow seldom, and customary, and cold in duty, especially in thy secret prayers to God, and yet findest no abatement in thy joys, I cannot but fear that thy joys are either carnal or diabolical.

2. Grace is never apparent and sensible to the soul, but while it is in action; therefore, want of action must needs cause want of assurance. Habits are not felt immediately, but by the freeness and facility of their acts: of the very being of the soul itself, nothing is felt or perceived but only its acts. The fire that lieth

CuAi". Vlll. THE SAINTS' KVERLASTlNCi REST. ;jl3

still in the flint is neither seen nor felt, but when you smite it, and force it into act, it is easily discerned. The greatest action doth force the greatest observation, whereas the dead and unactive are not reniend)ered or taken notice of. Those that have long lain still in their graves, are out of men's thoughts as well as their sight; but those that walk the streets, and bear rule among them, are noted by all: it is so with our graces. That you have a habit of love or faith, you can no otherwise know but as a consequence by reasoning; but that you have acts, you may know by feeling. If you see a man lie still in the way, what will you do to know whether he be drunk, or in a swoon, or dead { Will you not stir him, or speak to him, to see whether he can go; or feel his pulse, or observe his breath, knowing that where there is life, there is some kind of motion i* I earnestly beseech thee. Christian, observe and practise this excellent rule: thou now knowest not whether thou have repentance, or faith, or love, or joy ; why, be more in the acting of these, and thou wilt easily know it. Draw forth an object for godly sorrow, or faith, or love, or joy, and lay thy heart flat unto it, and take pains to provoke it into suitable action, and then see whether thou have these graces or no. As Dr. Sibbs ob-serveth, " There is sometimes grief for sin in us when we think there is none." It wants but stirring up by some quickening word: the like he saith of love, and it may be said of every other grace. You may go seeking for the hare or partridge many hours, and never find them while they lie close and stir not; but when once the hare betakes himself to his legs, and the bird to her wings, then you see them presently. So long as a Christian hath his graces in lively action, so long, for the most part, he is assured of them. How can you doubt whether you love God in the act of loving, or whether you believe in the very act of believing ? If therefore you would be assured whether this sacred fire be kindled in your hearts, blow it up; get it into a flame, and then you will know: believe tid you feel that you do believe, and love till you feel that you love.

3. The acting of the soul upon such excellent objects, doth naturally bring consolation with it. The very act of loving God in Christ, doth bring unexpressible sweetness with it into the soul. The soul that is best furnished with grace, when it is not in action, is like a lute that is well stringed and tuned, which while it lieth still doth make no more nmsic than a common piece of wood; but when it is taken up and handled by a skilful lutist, the melody is Tnost delightful. " Some degree of comfort," saith that comfortable doctor, " follows every good action, as heat accompanies fire, and as beams and influence issue from the sun ;" which is so true, that very heathens upon the discharge of a good conscience have found comfort and peace answerable : this is premium ante pra-i/iiinn, a reward before the reward.

As a man, therefore, that is cold, should not stand still and say, I am so cold that I have no mind to labour, but labour till his coldness be gone, and heat excited ; so he that wants assurance of the

truth of his grace, and the comfort of assurance, must not stand still and say, I am so doubtful and uncomfortable that I have no mind to duty, but ply his duty, and exercise his graces, till he find his doubts and discomforts to vanish.

Sect. X. Lastly : Another ordinary nurse of doubtings and discomfort, is the prevailing of melancholy in the body, whereby the brain is continually troubled and darkened, the fancy hindered, and reason perverted by the distempering of its instruments, and the soul is still clad in mourning weeds. It is no more wonder for a conscientious man that is overcome w'ith melancholy to doubt, and fear, and despair, than it is for a sick man to groan, or a child to cry when he is beaten. This is the case with most that I have known lie long in doubting and distress of spirit. With some, their melancholy being raised by crosses or distemper of body, or some other occasion, doth afterwards bring in trouble of conscience as its companion. With others, trouble of mind is their first trouble, which long hanging on them, at last doth bring the body also into a melancholy habit; and then trouble increaseth melancholy, and melancholy again increaseth trouble, and so round. This is a most sad and pitiful state. For as the disease of the body is chronical and obstinate, and physic doth seldom succeed, where it hath far prevailed; so without the physician, the labours of the divine are usually in vain. You may silence them, but you cannot comfort them; you may make them confess that they have some grace, and yet cannot bring them to the comfortable conclusions. Or if you convince them of some work of the Spirit upon their souls, and a little at present abate their sadness, yet as soon as they are gone home, and look again upon their souls through this perturbing humour, all your convincing arguments are forgotten, and they are as far from comfort as ever they were. All the good thoughts of their state which you can possibly help them to, are seldom above a day or two old. As a man that looks through a black, or blue, or red glass, doth think things which he sees to be of the same colour ; and if you would persuade him to the contrary he wall not believe you, but wonder that you should oflfer to persuade him against his eye-sight; so a melancholy man sees all things in a sad and fearful plight, because his reason looketh on them through this black humour, with which his brain is darkened and distempered. And as a man's eyes which can see all things about him, yet cannot see any imperfection in themselves ; so it is almost impossible to make many of these men to know that they are melancholy. But as those who are troubled with the ephialtes do cry out of some body that lieth heavy upon them, when the disease is in their own blood and humours ; so these poor men cry out of sin and the wrath of God, when the main cause is in this bodily distemper. The chief part of the cure of these men must be upon the body, because there is the chief part of the disease.

And thus I have showed you the chief causes, why so many Christians do enjoy so little assurance and consolation.

CHAPTER IX.

CONTAINING AN EXHORTATION, AND MOTIVES TO EXAMINE.

Sect. I. Having thus discovered the impediments to examination, I would presently proceed to direct you to the performance of it, hut that 1 am yet jealous whether I have fully prevailed with your wills, and whether you are indeed resolved to set upon the duty. I have found by long experience, as well as from Scripture, that the main difficulty lieth in bringing men to be willing, and to set themselves in good earnest to the searching of their hearts.

Many love to hear and read of marks and signs by which they may try ; but few will be brought to spend an hour in using them when they have them. They think they should have their doubts resolved as soon as they do but hear a minister name some of their signs; and if that would do the work, then assurance would be more common ; but when they are informed that the work lies most upon their own hands, and what pains it must cost them to search their hearts faithfully, then they give up and will go no further.

This is not only the case of the ungodly, who commonly perish through this neglect; but multitudes of the godly themselves are like idle beggars, who will rather make a practice of begging and bewailing their misery, than they will set themselves to labour painfully for their relief; so do many spend days and years in sad complaints and doubtings, that will not be brought to spend a few hours in examination. I entreat all these persons, what condition soever they are of, to consider the weight of these following arguments, which I have propounded, in hope to persuade them to this duty.

Sect. II. 1. To be deceived about your title to .

heaven is exceeding easy ; and not to be deceived, is exceeding difficult. This I make manifest to you thus:

1. Multitudes that never suspected any falsehood in their hearts, have yet proved unsound in the day of trial; and they that never feared any danger toward them, have perished for ever ; yea, many that have been confident of their integrity and safety. I shall adjoin the proofs of what I say in the margin, for brevity sake.* How many poor souls are now in hell, that little thought of coming thither! and that were wont to despise their counsel that bid them try and make sure ! and to say, they made no doubt of their salvation!

2. Yea, and many that have excelled in worldly wisdom, yet have been befooled in this great business; and they that had wit

* Matt. vii. 22, 2G, 27, &c.; Prov. xiv. 11 ; Luke xiii. 25, 26 ; xviii. 1, 11 ; Rev. iii. 17. So Ananias and Sapphira, the rich man in Luke xvi. &c. ; Ahithophel, Gehazi, Ananias and Sapphira, Pharisees, Jesuits, &c. Rom. i. 22. Judas and the Jews that heard Christ. Matt. vii. 22 ; Rom. ii. 21 : 1 Cor. ix. 27.

to deceive their neighbours, were yet deceived by Satan and their own hearts. Yea, men of strongest head-pieces, and profoundest learning, who knew much of the secrets of nature, of the courses of the planets, and motions of the spheres, have yet been utterly mistaken in their own hearts.

3. Yea, those that have lived in the clear light of the gospel, and. heard the difference between the righteous and the wicked plainly laid open, and many a mark for trial laid down, and many a sermon pressing them to examine, and directing them how to do it, yet even these have been, and daily are, deceived.

4. Yea, those that have had a whole life-time to make sure in, and have been told over and over that they had their lives for no other end but to provide for everlasting rest, and make sure of it, have yet been deceived, and have wasted that life-time in forgetful security.

5. Yea, those that have preached against the negligence of others, and pressed them to try themselves, and showed them the danger of being mistaken, have yet proved mistaken themselves.

And is it not then time for us to rifle our hearts, and search

them to the very quick ?

„ . „ Sect. III. 2. To be mistaken in this great point

Motive 2. . , 1, o X-

is also very common, as well as easy; so common

that it is the case of most in the world. Gal. vi. 3, 4, 7; Matt. vii. 21. In the old world we find none that were in any fear of judgment ; and yet how few persons were not deceived ! So in Sodom; so among the Jews; and I would it were not so in England! Almost all men amongst us do verily look to be saved. You shall scarce speak with one of a thousand that doth not; and yet Christ telleth us, " that few find the strait gate and narrow way that leads to life." Do but reckon up the several sorts of men that are mistaken in thinking they have title to heaven, as the Scripture doth enumerate them, and what a multitude will they prove! 1. All that are ignorant of the fundamentals of religion. 2. All heretics who maintain false doctrines against the foundation, or against the necessary means of life. 3. All that live in the practice of gross sin. 4. Or that love and regard the smallest sin. 5. All that harden themselves against frequent reproof, Prov. xxix. 1. 6. xA.!! that mind the flesh more than the Spirit, Rom. viii. 6, 7, 13, or the world more than God, Phil. iii. 18, 19; 1 John ii. 15, 16.

7. All that do as the most do, Luke xiii. 24—26; 1 John v. 19.

8. All that are deriders at the godly, and discourage others from the way of God by their reproaches, Prov. i. 22, &c.; iii. 34; xix. 29. 9. All that are unholy; and that never were regenerate and born anew. 10. All that have not their very hearts set upon heaven, Matt. vi. 21. 11. All that have a form of godliness without the power. 12. And all that love either parents, or wife, or children, or house, or lands, or life, more than Christ, Luke xiv. 26. Every one of these that thinketh he hath any title to heaven, is as surely mistaken as the Scripture is true. (Eph. iv. 18 ; Hos. iv. 6; Isa. xxvii. 11; 2 Cor. iv. 3, Rev. ii. 6, 20; Tit. ii. 10;

2. It will take away the efficacy of means that should do them

Chap. IX. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. 317

1 Cor. vi. <); XV. 50 ; Eph. v. 4—G ; Psal. Ixvi. 18 ; James iv. 4, .^ ; Heb, xii. 14; John iii. 3; 2 Tim. iii. 5; James i. 22; Mark xiii. 5, (); Matt. X. 37 ; John xii. 25.)

And if such multitudes are deceived, should not we search the more diligently, lest we should be deceived as well as they ?

Sect. IV. 3. Nothing more dangerous than to be thus mistaken. The consequents of it are lamentable and desperate. If the godly be mistaken in judging their state to be worse than it is, the consequents of this mistake-will be very sad ; but if the ungodly be mistaken, the danger and mischief that followeth is unspeakable,

1. It will exceedingly confirm them in the service of Satan, and fasten them in their present way of death. They will never seek to be recovered, as long as they think their present state may serve. As the prophet saith, " A deceived heart will turn them aside, that they cannot deliver their own soul, nor say, Is there not a lie in my right hand?" Isa. xliv, 20

ly the efficacy

good; nay, it will turn the best means to their hardening and ruin. If a man mistake his bodily disease, and think it to be clean contrary to what it is, will he not apply contrary remedies which will increase it ? So when a Christian should apply the promises, his mistake will cause him to apply the threatenings; and when an ungodly man should apply the threatenings and terrors of the Lord, this mistake of his state tluU make him apply the promises; and there is no greater strengthener of sin, and destroyer of the soul, than Scripture misapplied. Worldly delights, and the deceiving words of sinners, may harden men most desperately in an unsafe way; but Scripture misapplied will do it far more effectually and dangerously.

3. It will keep a man from compassionating his own soul; though he be a sad! object of pity to every understanding man that behold-eth him, yet will he not be able to pity himself, because he know-eth not his own misery. As I have seen a physician lament the case of his patient, when he hath discerned his certain death in some small beginning, when the patient himself feared nothing, because he knew not the mortal nature of his disease ; so doth many a minister, or godly Christian, lament the case of a carnal wretch, who is so far from lamenting it himself, that he scorns their pity, and biddeth them be sorry for themselves, they shall not answer for him ; and taketh them for his enemies, because they tell him the truth of his danger, Acts vii. 54; xxii. 21. As a man that seeth a beast going to the slaughter, doth pity the poor creature, when it cannot pity itself, because it little thinketh that death is so near : so is it with these poor sinners; and all long of this mistaking their spiritual state. Is it not a pitiful sight to see a man laughing himself, when his understanding friends stand weeping for his misery ? Paul mentioneth the voluptuous men. of his time, and the worldlings, with weeping, Phil. iii. 17, 18; but we never read of their weeping for themselves. Christ standeth weeping over Jerusalem, when they knew not of any evil that was

towards them, (Luke xix.) nor give him thanks for his pity or his tears.

4. It is a case of greatest moment, and therefore mistaking must needs be most dangerous. If it were in making an ill bargain, yet we might repair our loss in the next. Scipio was wont to say, " It was an unseemly, absurd thing in military cases to say, I had not thought; or, I was not aware."* The matter being of so great concernment, every danger should be thought of, that you may be aware. Sure, in this weighty case, where our everlasting salvation or damnation is in question, and to be determined, every mistake is insufferable and inexcusable which might have been prevented by any cost or pains ! Therefore men v/ill choose the most able lawyers and physicians, because the mistakes of one may lose them their estate, and the mistakes of the other may lose them their lives : but mistakes about their souls are of a higher nature.

5. If you should continue your mistakes till death, there will be no time after to correct them for your recovery. Mistake now, and you are undone for ever. Men think, to see a man die quietly or comfortably, is to see him die happily; but if his comfort proceed from this mistake of his condition, it is the most unhappy case and pitiful sight in the world. To live mistaken, in such a case, is lamentable ; but, to die mistaken, is desperate.

Seeing then that the case is so dangerous, what wise man would not follow the search of his heart, both night and day, till he were assured of his safety ?

Sect. V. 4. Consider how small the labour of this duty is, in comparison of the sorrow which followeth its neglect. A few hours' or days' work, if it be closely followed, and with good direction, may do much to resolve the question. There is no such trouble in searching our hearts, nor any such danger, as may deter men from it. What harm can it do to you to try or to know ? It will take up no very long time, or if it did, yet you have your time given you for that end. One hour so spent, will comfort y®u more than many otherwise. If you cannot have while to make sure of heaven, how can you have while to eat, or drink, or live ? You can endure to follow your callings at plough, and cart, and shop ; to toil and sweat from day to day, and year to year, in the hardest labours : and cannot you endure to spend a little time in inquiring what shall be your everlasting state ? What a deal of sorrow and after-complaining might this small labour prevent! How many miles' travel, besides the vexation, may a traveller save by inquiring of the way ! Why, what a sad case are you in, while you live in such uncertainty ! You can have no true comfort in any thing you see, or hear, or possess ; you are not sure to be an hour out of hell, and if you come thither, you will do nothing but bewail the folly of this neglect: no excuse will then pervert justice, or quiet your conscience. If you say, I little thought of this day and place ; God and conscience may reply. Why didst thou not think of it ? Wast thou not warned ? Hadst thou not time ? Therefore must thou perish, because thou

* Turpe est in re militari dicere, Non putarem.

wouklst not think of it. As the commander answered his soldier, in Plutarch, when he said, Non rolois crniri, I erred against my will; he beat him, and replied, N^oii rolena pocnas daio, Thou shalt Le punished also against thy will.

Sect. VI. .'3. Thou canst scarce do Satan a greater pleasure, nor thyself a greater injury. It is the main scope of the devil, in all his temptations, to deceive thee, and keep thee ignorant of thy danger till thou feel the everlasting flames upon thy soul; and wilt thou join with him to deceive thyself? If it were not by this deceiving thee, he could not destroy thee : and if thou do this for him, thou dost the greatest part of his work, and art the chief destroyer and devil to thyself. And hath he deserved so well of thee, and thyself so ill, that thou shouldst assist him in such a design as thy damnation ? To deceive another is a grievous sin, and such as perhaps thou wouklst scorn to be charged with ; and yet thou thinkest it nothing to deceive thyself. Saith Solomon, " As a madman who casteth firebrands, arrows, and death, so is the man that deceiveth his neighbour, and saith. Am not I in sport V Prov. xxvi. LS, 19. Surely, then, he that maketh but a sport, or a matter of nothing, to deceive his own soul, may well be thought a madman, casting firebrands and death at himself. " If any man think himself to be something when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself," saith Paul, Gal. vi. 3. Certainly, among all the multitudes that perish, this is the commonest cause of their undoing, that they would not be brought to try their state in time. And is it not pity to think that so many thousands are merrily travelling to destruction, and do not know it, and all for want of this diligent search ?

Sect. VII. 6. The time is near when God will search you, and that will be another kind of trial than this. If it be but in this life, by the fiery trial of affliction, it will make you wish again and again that you had spared God that work, and yourselves the sorrow ; and that you had tried and judged yourselves, that so you might have escaped the trial and judgment of God, 1 Cor. xi. 30, 31. He will examine you, then, as officers do offenders, with a word and a blow : and as they would have done by Paul, examine him by scourging, Acts xxii. 24. It was a terrible voice to Adam, when God called to him, " Adam, where art thou ? Hast thou eaten," &c. !* And to Cain, when God asked him, " Where is thy brother .''" To have demanded this of himself had been easier. Men think God mindeth their state and ways no more than they do their own. " They consider not in their hearts" (saith the Lord) " that I remember all their wickedness; now their own doings have beset them about, they are before my face," Hos. vii. 2. Oh, what a happy preparation would it be to that last? and great trial, if men had but thoroughly tried themselves, and made sure work beforehand ! ^^'hen a man doth but soberly and believingly think of that day, especially when he shall see the judgment-seat, what a joyful preparation is it, if he can truly say, I know the sentence shall pass on my side : I have examined myself by the same law of Christ which now must judge me, and I have found that I am quit from

all my guilt, and am a justified person in law already ! O sirs, if you knew but the comfort of such a preparation, you would fall close to the work of self-examining yet before you slept!

7. Lastly, I desire thee to consider what would be the sweet effects of this examining. If thou -be upright and godly, it will lead thee straight towards assurance of God's love. If thou be not, though it will trouble thee at the present, yet doth it tend to thy happiness, and will lead thee to assurance of that happiness.

1. The very knowledge itself is naturally desirable. Every man would fain know things to come, especially concerning themselves. If there were a book written which would tell every man his destiny, what shall befall him to his last breath, how desirous would people be to procure it and read it! How did Nebuchadnezzar's thoughts run on things that after should come to pass, and he worshipped Daniel, and offered oblations to him, because he foretold them ! When Christ had told his disciples " that one of them should betray him," how desirous are they to know who it was, though it were a matter of sorrow ! How busily do they inquire when Christ's predictions should come to pass, and what were the signs of his coming ! With what gladness doth the Samaritan woman run into the city, saying, Come and see a man that hath told me all that ever I did, though he told her of her faults ! When Ahaziah lay sick, how desirous was he to know whether he should live or die ! Daniel is called a man greatly beloved, therefore God would reveal to him things that long after must come to pass (Dan. ii. 29, 46, 47; Matt. xxvi.; xxiv.; John iv. 29; 2 Kings i. 2; Dan. ix. 23; X. 11, 19). And is it so desirable a thing to hear prophecies, and to know what shall befall us hereafter .'' And is it not then most especially desirable to know what shall befall our souls; and what place and state we must be in for ever ? Why, this you may know, if you will but faithfully try.

2. But the comforts of that certainty of salvation, which this trial doth conduce toward, are yet far greater. If ever God bestow this blessing of assurance on thee, thou wilt account thyself the happiest man on earth, and feel that it is not a notional or empty mercy. For,

1. What sweet thoughts wilt thou have of God ! All that greatness, and jealousy, and justice, which is the terror of others, will be matter of encouragement and joy to thee. As the son of a king doth rejoice in his father's magnificence and power, which is the awe of subjects, and terror of rebels ; when the thunder doth roar, and the lightning flash, and the earth quake, and the signs of dreadful omnipotency do appear, thou canst say, All this is the effect of my Father's power.

2. How sweet may every thought of Christ, and the blood which he hath shed, and the benefits he hath procured, be unto thee who hast got this assurance! Then will the name of a Saviour be a sweet name; and the thoughts of his gentle and loving nature, and of the gracious design which he hath carried on for our salvation, will be pleasing thoughts. Then will it do thee good to view

his wounds by the eye of faith, aiul to put thy finger, as it were, into his side, when thou canst call him, as Thomas did, " My Lord and my God."

S. liA'cry passage, also, in the word will then afford thee comfort. How sweet will be the promises when thou art sure they are thy own ! The gospel will then be glad tidings indeed. The very threatenings will occasion thy comfort, to remember that thou hast escaped them. Then thou wilt cry, with David, " Oh how I love thy law! it is sweeter than honey, more precious than gold," &c.; and with Luther, that thou wilt " not take all the world for one loaf of tiio Bible." When thou wast in thy sin, this book was to thee as Micaiah to Ahab, " It never spoke good of thee, but evil;" and therefore no wonder if then thou didst hate it: but now it is the charter of thy everlasting rest, how welcome will it be to thee; and how beautiful the very feet of those that bring it! l^om. X. 15.

4. What boldness and comfort then niayst thou have in prayer, when thou canst say " Our Father" in full assurance; and knowest that thou art welcome and accepted through Christ; and that thou hast a promise to be heard whenever thou askest; and knowest that God is readier to grant thy requests than thou to move them ! With what comfortable boldness mayst thou then approach the throne of grace, Heb. x. 22,29 ; especially when the case is weighty, and thy necessity great! This assurance in prayer will be a sweet privilege indeed. A despairing soul, that feeleth the weight of sin and wrath, especially at a dying hour, would give a large price to be partaker of this privilege, and to be sure that he might have pardon and life for the asking for.

5. This assurance will give the sacrament a sweet relish to thy soul, and make it a refreshing feast indeed.

6. It will multiply the sw^eetness of every mercy thou receivest. When thou art sure that all proceeds from love, and are the beginnings and earnest of everlasting mercies ; thou wilt then have more comfort in a morsel of bread than the world hath in the greatest abundance of all things.

7. How comfortably then mayst thou undergo all afflictions, when thou knowest that he meaneth thee no hurt in them, but hath promised, " that all shall work together for thy good ; " when thou art sure that he chasteneth thee because he loveth thee, and scourgeth thee because thou art a son whom he will receive, and that out of very faithfulness he doth afflict thee ! Rom. viii. 28; Heb. xii. 6, 7 ; Psal. Ixxv. What a support nuist this be to thy heart ; and how will it abate the bitterness of the cup! Even the Son of God himself doth seem to take comfort from this assurance, when he was, in a manner, forsaken for our sins ; and therefore he cries out, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ?" And even the prodigal, under his guilt and misery, doth take some comfort in remembering that he hath a father.

8. This assurance will sweeten to thee the forethoughts of death, and make thy heart glad to forethink of that entrance into joy,

Y

Numb, xxiii. 10 ; when a man that is uncertain whither he is going must needs die in horror.

9. It will sweeten also thy forethoughts of judgment, when thou art sure that it will be the day of thy absolution and coronation.

10. Yea, the very thoughts of the flames of hell, will administer matter of consolation to thee, when thou canst certainly conclude thou art saved from them.

11. The forethoughts of heaven also will be more incomparably delightful, when thou art certain that it is the place of thine everlasting abode.

12. It will make thee exceeding lively and strong in the work of the Lord. With what courage wilt thou run when thou knowest thou shalt have the prize ; and fight, when thou knowest thou shalt conquer ! It will make thee always abound in the work of the Lord, when thou knowest that thy labour is not in vain, 1 Cor. xv. 5S.

13. It will also make thee more profitable to others. Thou wilt be a most cheerful encourager of them from thine own experience; thou wilt be able to refresh the weary, and to strengthen the weak, and to speak a word of comfort in season to a troubled soul; whereas now, without assurance, instead of comforting others, thou wilt rather have need of support thyself: so that others are losers by thy uncertainty as well as thyself.

14. Assurance will put life into all thy affections or graces. 1. It will help thee to repent, and melt over thy sins, when thou knowest how dearly God did love thee, whom thou hast abused, 2. It will inflame thy soul with love to God, when thou once knowest thy near relation to him, and how tenderly he is affected toward thee, Psal. cxvi. 1; xviii, 1, 2. 3. It will quicken thy desires after him, when thou art once sure of thy interest in him, 1 Thess. iv. 17, 18; Psal. cxviii. 28; Isa. xxv. 1. 4. It is the most excellent fountain of continual rejoicing, Hab. iii. 17—19. 5. It will confirm thy trust and confidence in God in the greatest straits, Psal. Ixxxix. 26; xlvi. 1—3, &c. 6. It will fill thy heart with thankfulness. 7. It will raise thee in the high, delightful work of praise. 8. It will be the most excellent help to a heavenly mind. 9. It will exceedingly tend to thy perseverance in all this. He that is sure of the crown will hold on to the end, when others will be tired, and give up through discouragement.

All these sweet effects of assurance would make thy life a kind of heaven on earth. Seeing, then, that the examining of our state is the way to this assurance, and the means without which God doth not usually bestow it, doth it not concern us to fall close to this searching work ?

Sect. IX. I would not have bestowed this time and labour in urging you with all these foregoing considerations, but that I know how backward man is to this duty. And though I am certain that these motives have weight of reason in them, yet experience of men's unreasonableness in things of this nature, doth make me jealous lest you should lay by the book, when you have read all this, as if you had done, and never set yourselves to the practice of

CiiAi-. IX. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. -^23

the duty. Keader, thou secst the case in hand is of the groatrst moment. It is to know whether thou shalt everlastingly live in heaven or hell. If thou hast lived hitluMto in dark uncertainty, it is a pitiful case; but if thou wilfully continue so, thy madness is unexpressible : and is it not wilfully, when a thorough trial might help thee to be rt>solved, and thou wilt not be persuaded to be at so much pains ? What sayest thou now ? Art thou fully resolved to fall upon the work ? Shall all this labour that I have bestowed in persuading thee, be lost, or no ? If thou wilt not obey, I would thou hadst never read these lines, that they might not have aggravated thy guilt, and silenced thee in judgment, I here put this special request to thee in behalf of thy soul; nay, I lay this charge upon thee in the name of the Lord; that thou defer no longer, but take the next opportunity that thou canst have, and take thy heart to task in good earnest, and think with thyself, Is it so easy, so common, and so dangerous, to be mistaken ? Are there so many wrong ways? Is the heart so guileful? Why then do I not search into every corner, and ply this work till I know my state ? Must I so shortly undergo the trial at the bar of Christ? And do I not presently fall on trying myself? Why, what a case were I in, if I should then miscarry ! May I know by a little diligent inquiry now, and do I stick at the labour? And hero set thyself to the duty. Object. But it may be, thou wilt say, I know not how to do it. Ansiv. That is the next work that I come to, to give directions herein; but, alas! it will be in vain if thou be not resolved to practise them. Wilt thou, therefore, before thou goest any further, here promise before the Lord, to set thyself, to thy power, upon the speedy performing of the duty, according to these directions, which I shall lay down from the word ? I demand nothing unreasonable or impossible of thee : it is but that thou wouldst presently bestow a few hours' time, to know what shall become of thee for ever. If a neighbour, or common friend, desires but an hour's time of thee, in conference, or in labour, or any thing that thou mayst help them in, thou wouldst not, sure, deny it. How much less shouldst thou deny this to thyself in so great a case ! I pray thee take this request from me, as if upon my knees, in the name of Christ, I did prefer it to thee ; and I will betake me upon my knees to Christ again, to beg that he will persuade thy heart to the duty : and, in hope that thou wilt practise them, I will here give thee some directions,*

* I cannot but English (though I mar it) one passage in Seneca, to show some Christians, to their shame, what heathens did : The soul is daily to be called to an account. It was the custom of Sextius, that when the day was past, and he betook himself to his rest at night, he would ask his soul, "What evil of thine hast thou healed today ! "NVbat vice hast thou resisted % In what part art thou better t Anger will cease and become more moderate, when it knows it must every day come before the judge. What practice is more excellent than thus to sift or examine over the whole day ■? How iiuict, and sound, and sweet a sleep must needs follow this reckoning with ourselves; wlien the soul is either commended or admonisiiod, and, as a secret observer and judge of itself, is acquainted with bis own manners! I use this power myself, and daily accuse myself, or plead my cause before myself. "VVIien the candle is taken out of my sight, and my wife holds her tongue, then, according to my custom, I search over the

CHAPTER X.

CONTAINING DIRECTIONS FOR EXAMINATION, AND SOME MARKS FOR TRIAL.

Sect. I. I will not stand here to lay down the directions necessary for preparation to this duty, because you may gather them from what is said concerning the hinderances ; for the contraries of those hinderances will be most necessary helps. Only before you set upon it, I advise you moreover to the observation of these rules. 1. Come not with too peremptory conclusions of yourselves beforehand. Do not judge too confidently before you try. Many godly, dejected souls come with this prejudging to the work, concluding certainly that their state is miserable before they have tried it: and most wicked men, on the contrary side, do conclude most confidently that their state is good, or tolerable at the least: no wonder if these both miscarry in judging, when they pass the sentence before the trial.

2. Be sure to be so well acquainted with the Scripture, as to know what is the tenor of the covenant of grace, and what are the conditions of justification and glorification, and consequently what are sound marks to try thyself by, and wherein the truth of grace, and essence of Christianity, do both consist.

3. And it will not be unuseful to write out some of the chief, and those scriptures withal which hold them forth, and so to bring this paper with you when you come to examination.

4. Be a constant observer of the temper and motions of thy heart; almost all the difficulty of the work doth lie in the true and clear discerning of it. Be watchful in observing the actings both of grace and corruption, and the circumstances of their actings ; as, how frequent, how violent, how strong or weak were the outward incitements; how great or small the impediments; what delight, or loathing, or fear, or reluctancy, did go with those acts. By these and the like observations, you may come to a more infallible knowledge of yourselves.

5. Be sure you set upon the work with a serious, roused, awakened soul, appi-ehensive of how great concernment it is.

6. And lastly : Resolve to judge thyself impartially, neither

■whole day with myself; I measure over again my doings and my sayings ; I hide nothing from myself; I overpass nothing : for why should I fear any of my errors, when I can say, See that thou do so no more; I now forgive thee : in such a disputation thou spakest too contentiously ; engage not hereafter in disputes with them that are ignorant. They that have not learned will not learn. Such a man thou didst admonish more freely than thou oughtest; and therefore didst not amend him, but offend him. Hereafter see, not only whether it be truth which thou speakest, hut whether he to whom it is spoken can bear the truth. Senec. de Ira, lib. iii. 36. If a heathen can keep a daily reckoning with his soul, methinks a Christian might follow on the work of examination once till he know his condition; and when that is done, he shall find this daily reckoning, well managed, to be of unconceivable advantage, for subduing corruption, and for growth in grace.

better nor worse than thou art, l)ut as the evidence sliall prove tlice.

Sect. II. ]3eing thus provided, then set to tlie business, and therein observe these directions following, which I will mention briefly, that lying close together, you may be able to view and observe them the more easily :

1. Empty thy mind of all thy other cares and thoughts, that they do not distract or divide thy mind. This work will be enough at once of itself, without joining others with it.

2. Then fall down before God, and in hearty prayer desire the assistance of his Spirit, to discover to thee the plain truth of thy condition, and to enlighten thee in the whole progress of the work.

3. Make choice of the most convenient time and place. I shall not stand upon the particular directions about these, because I shall mention them more largely when I come to direct you in the duty of contemplation : only this in brief: 1. Let the place be the most private, that you may be free from distractions. 2. For the time thus, 1. When you are most solitary, and at leisure: you cannot cast accounts, especially of such a nature as these, either in a crowd of company or of employment. 2. Let it be a set and chosen time, when you have nothing to hinder you. 3. But if it may be, let it be the present time, especially if thou hast been a stranger hitherto to the work : there is no delaying in matters of such weight. 4. Especially when you have a more special call to search yourselves: as in public calamities, in time of sickness, before a sacrament, &c. 5. When God is trying you by some affliction, and, as Job saith, is searching after your sin, then set in with him, and search after them yourselves. Job x. 6, G. Lastly : You should specially take such a time when you are most fit for the work; when you are not secure and stupid on the one hand, nor yet under deep desertions or melancholy on the other hand, for else you will be unfit judges of your own state.

4. When you have thus chosen the fittest time and place, then draw forth, either from thy memory, or in writing, the foremen-tioned marks, or gospel conditions, or descriptions of the saints. Try them by Scripture, and convince thy soul thoroughly of their infallible truth.

5. Proceed, then, to put the question to thyself, but be sure to state it right. Let it not be whether there be any good in thee at all, for so thou wilt err on the one hand; nor yet whether thou have such or such a degree and measure of grace, for so thou wilt err on the other hand ; but whether such or such a saving grace be in thee at all in sincerity, or not ?

6. If thy heart draw back, and be loth to the work, suffer it not so to give thee the slip, but force it on; lay thy command upon it; let reason interpose, and use its authority ; look over the foregoing arguments, and press them home; yea, lay the command of God upon it, and charge it to obey upon pain of his displeasure. Set conscience at work also. Let it do its office, till thy lazy heart be spurred up to the work ; for if thou suiTer it to break away once

and twice, &c. it will grow so headstrong, that thou canst not master it.

7. Let not thy heart trifle away the time, when it should he diligently at the work. Put the question to it seriously. Is it thus and thus with me, or no? Force it here to an answer. Suffer it not to he silent, nor to jangle and think of other matters. If the question be hard, through the darkness of thy heart, yet do not give it over so, hut search the closer, and study the case the more exactly, and if it be possible, let not thy heart give over till it hath resolved the question, and told thee, off or on, in what case thou art. Ask it strictly, as Joseph examined his brethren. Gen. xliii. 7, how it stands affected. Do as David, Psal. Ixxvii. 6, " My spirit made diligent search." If thy heart strive to break away before thou art resolved, wrestle with it till thou hast prevailed, and say, I will not let thee go till thou hast answered. He that carf prevail with his own heart, shall also be a prevailer with God.

8. If thou find the work beyond thy strength, so that after all thy pains thou art never the more resolved, then seek out for help : go to some one that is godly, experienced, able, and faithful, and tell him thy case, and desire his best advice and help. Not that any man can know thy heart so well as thyself: but if thou deal faithfully, and tell him what thou knowest by thyself, he can tell thee whether they be sound evidence or not; and show thee Scripture how to prove them so; and direct thee in the right use of such evidences; and show thee how to conclude from them. Yea, when thou canst get no further, the very judgment of an able, godly man should take much with thee, as a probable argument: as the judgment of a physician, concerning the state of thy body. Though this can afford thee no full certainty, yet it may be a great help to stay and direct thee. But be sure thou do not make this a pretence to put off thy own duty of examining, but only use it as one of the last remedies, when thou findest thy own endeavours will not serve. Neither be thou forward to open thy case to every one, or to a carnal, flattering, and unskilful person ; but to one that hath wisdom to conceal thy secrets, and tenderness to compassionate thee, and skill to direct thee, and faithfulness to deal truly and plainly with thee.

9. When by all this pains and means thou hast discovered the truth of thy state, then pass the sentence on thyself accordingly. A mere examination will do thee little good, if it proceed not to a judgment. Conclude as thou findest, either that thou art a true believer, or that thou art not. But pass not this sentence rashly, nor with self-flattery, nor from melancholy terrors and fears, but do it groundedly, and deliberately, and truly, as thou findest according to thy conscience. Do not conclude, as some do, I am a good Christian, or as others do, I am a reprobate, or a hypocrite, and shall be damned. When thou hast no ground for what thou sayest but thy own fancy, or hopes, or fears, nay, when thou art convinced by Scripture and reason of the contrary, and hast nothing to say against the arguments ; let not thy judgment be

Chap. X. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTINCi REST. SJl

any way biassed or bribed, and so forestalled from sentencing aright.

10. Labour to get thy heart kindly affected with its discovered condition, according to the sentence passed on it. Do not think it (Miough to know, but labour to feel what God hath made thee see. If thou find thyself undoubtedly graceless, oh ! get this to thy licart, and think what a doleful condition it is to be an enemy to (jod ; to be unpardoned, unsanctified ; and if thou shouldst so die, to be eternally damned ! One would think such a thought should make a heart of stone to quake. On the contrary, if thou find thyself renewed and sanctified indeed, oh ! get this warm and close to thy heart ; bethink thyself what a blessed state the Lord hath brought thee into ; to be his child, his friend ; to be pardoned, justified, and sure to be saved ! Why, what needest thou fear but sinning against him ? Come war, or plague, or sickness, or death, thou art sure they can but thrust thee into heaven.

Thus follow these meditations, till they have left their impression on thy heart.

11. Ke sure to record this sentence so passed ; write it down, or at least Avrite it in thy memory. At such a time, upon thorough examination, I found my state to be thus or thus : this record w^ill be very useful to thee hereafter. If thou be ungodly, what a damp will it be to thy presumption and security, to go and read the sentence of thy misery under thy own hand ! If thou be godly, what a help will it be against the next temptation to doubting and fear, to go and read under thy hand this record ! Mayst thou not think. If at such a time I found the truth of grace, is it not likely to be now the same, and these my doubts to come from the enemy of my peace ?

12. Yet would I not have thee so trust to one discovery, as to try no more, especially if thou have made any foul defection from Christ, and played the backslider; see, then, that thou renew the search again.

13. Neither would I have this hinder thee in the daily search of thy ways, or of thy increase in grace and fellow^ship with Christ. It is an ill sign, and a desperate vile sin, for a man, when he thinks he hath found himself gracious, and in a happy state, to let down his watch, and grow negligent of his heart and ways, and scarce look after them any more.

14. Neither would I have thee give over in discouragement, if thou canst not at once, or twice, or ten times trying, discover thy case ; but follow it on till thou hast discovered. If one hour's labour will not serve, take another ; if one day, or month, or year, be too little, follow it still. If one minister cannot direct thee sufiiciently, go to another. The issue will answer all thy pains. There is no sitting down discouraged in a work that must be done.

15. Lastly : Above all, take heed, if thou find thyself to bo yet unregenerate, that thou do not conclude of thy future state by thy present; nor say. Because I am ungodly, I shall die so; or. Because I am a hypocrite, I shall continue so : no ; thou hast another

work to do ; and that is, to resolve presently to cleave to Christ, and to break off thy hypocrisy and thy wickedness. If thou find that thou hast been all this while out of the way, do not sit down in despair ; but make so much the more haste to turn into it: if thou hast been a hypocrite, or ungodly person, all thy life, yet is the promise offered thee by Christ; and he tendereth himself to be thy Lord and Saviour. Neither canst thou possibly be so willing to accept of him, as he is to accept thee. Nothing but thy own unwillingness can keep thy soul from Christ, though thou hast hitherto abused him, and dissembled with him.

Object. But if I have gone so far, and been a professor so long, and yet find myself a hypocrite now, after all, what hope is there that I should now become sincere ? A?istv. Dost thou heartily desire to be sincere ; thy sincerity doth lie especially in thy will : as long as thou art unwilling, 1 confess, thy case is sad ; but if thou be willing to receive Christ as he is offered to thee, and so to be a Christian indeed, then thou art sincere. Neither hath Christ restrained his Spirit, or promises, to any set time; or said to thee, Thou shalt find grace, if thou sin but so much, or so long ; but if thou be heartily willing at any time, I know not who can hinder thy happiness. Yet is this no diminution of the sin or danger of delaying.

Thus I have given you these directions for examination, which, conscionably practised, will be of singular advantage and use to discover your states ; but it is not the bare reading of them that will do it. I fear, of many that will approve of this advice, there will but few be brought to use it; however, those that are willing, may find help by it, and the rest will be left most unexcusable in judgment.

Sect. III. I will not digress further, to warn you here of the false rules and marks of trial which you must beware, having opened them to you fullier when I preached on that subject; but I will briefly adjoin some marks to try your title to this rest, by referring you, for a fuller discovery, to the description of the people of God, in the first part of this book : but be sure you search thoroughly, and deal plainly, or else you will but lose your labour, and deceive yourselves.

Mark 1. Every soul that hath title to this rest, doth place his chiefest happiness in it, and make it the chief and ultimate end of his soul. This is the first mark; which is so plain a truth, that I need not stand to prove it: for this rest consisteth in the full and glorious enjoyment of God; and he that maketh not God his chief good, and ultimate end, is, in heart, a pagan, and vile idolater, and doth not take the Lord for his God truly.

Let me ask thee, then, Dost thou truly, in judgment and affection, account it thy chiefest happiness to enjoy the Lord in glory, or dost thou not ? Canst thou say, with David, " The Lord is my portion," Psal. xvi. 5; and, as Psal. Ixxiii. 15, " Whom have I in heaven but thee, and whom in earth that I desire in comparison of thee ?" If thou he an heir of rest, it is thus with thee, Psal. cxix.

57 ; cxlii. 5; Lam. iii. 4. ThouG^h the flesh will be pleading for its own delights, and the world will he creeping into thine affection, and thou canst not he quite freed from the love of it, yet in thy ordinary, settled, prevailing judgment and affections, thou preferrest God before all things in the world.

1. Thou makest him the end of thy desires and endeavours. The very reason why thou hearest and prayest, why thou desirest to live and breathe on earth, is chiefly this; that thou mayst seek the Lord, and make sure of thy rest : thou seekest first the kingdom of God and its righteousness. Though thou do not seek it so desirously and zealously as thou shouldst, yet hath it the chief of thy desires and endeavours, and nothing else is desired or preferred before it. Matt. vi. 33 ; so that thy very heart is thus far set upon it. Matt. vi. 21 ; Col. iii. I—3.

2. Also thou wilt think no labour or suffering too great to obtain it; and though the flesh may sometimes shrink, or draw back, yet art thou resolved and content to go through all. Matt. vii. 13; 2 Tim. ii. 5, 12; Rom. viii. 17; Luke iv. 24; xiv. 2G, 27.

3. Also, if thou be an heir of rest, thy valuation of it will be so high, and thy affection to it so great, that thou wouldst not exchange thy title to it, and hopes of it, for any worldly good whatsoever. Indeed, when the soul is in doubts of enjoying it, perhaps it may possibly desire rather the continuance of an earthly happiness, "than to depart out of the body with fears of going to hell. But if he were sure that heaven should be his own, he would desire to depart, and to be with Christ, as being the best state of all. And if God would set before him an eternity of earthly pleasure and contents on one hand, and the rest of the saints on the other hand, and bid him take his choice, he would refuse the world, and choose this rest, Psal. xvi. 9, 10; Rom. viii. 23; 2 Cor. v. 2, 3; Phil. iii. 20. Thus, if thou be a Christian indeed, thou takest God for thy chiefest good, and this rest for the most amiable and desirable state: and by the foresaid means thou mayst discover it.

But if thou be yet in the flesh, and an unsanctified wretch, then is it clean contrary with thee in all these respects. Then dost thou in thy heart prefer thy worldly happiness and fleshly delights before God; and though thy tongue may say that God is the chief good, yet thy heart doth not so esteem him. For, 1. The world is the chief end of thy desires and endeavours ; thy very heart is set upon it; thy greatest care and labour is to maintain thy estate, or credit, or fleshly delights, but the life to come hath little of thy care or labour. Thou didst never perceive so much excellency in that unseen glory of another world, as to draw thy heart so after it, or set thee a labouring so heartily for it: but that little pains which thou bestowest that way, it is but in the second place, and not the first. God hath but the world's leavings, and that time and labour which thou canst spare from the world, or those few cold and careless thoughts which follow thy constant, earnest, and delightful thoughts of earthly things. Neither wouldst thou do any thing at

all for heaven, if thou knewest how to keep the world: Lut lest thou shouldst he turned into hell, when thou canst keep the world no longer, therefore thou wilt do something.

2. Therefore it is that thou thinkest the way of God too strict, and wilt not be persuaded to the constant labour of conscionable walking according to the gospel rule : and when it comes to trial, that thou must forsake Christ or thy worldly happiness, and the wind which was in thy back doth turn in thy face, then thou wilt venture heaven rather than earth, and, as desperate rebels use to say, thou wilt rather trust God's mercy for thy soul, than man's for thy body, and so wilfully deny thy obedience to God.

3. And certainly if God would but give thee leave to live in health and wealth for ever on earth, thou wouldst think it a better state than rest. Let them seek for heaven that would, thou wouldst think this thy chiefest happiness. This is thy case if thou be yet an unregenerate person, and hast no title to the saints' rest.

Sect. IV. The second mark which I shall give thee, to try whether thou be an heir of rest, is this: As thou takest God for thy chief good, so thou dost heartily accept of Christ for thy only Saviour and Lord to bring thee to this rest. The former mark was the sum of the first and great command of the law of nature, '^ Thou shalt love the Lord with all thy heart," or above all. This second mark is the sum of the command or condition of the gospel, which saith, " Believe in the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved." And the performance of these two is the whole sum or essence of godliness and Christianity. Observe, therefore, the parts of this mark, which is but a definition of faith.

1. Dost thou find that thou art naturally a lost, condemned man for thy breach of the first covenant ? and dost believe that Jesus Christ is the Mediator, who hath made a sufficient satisfaction to the law; and hearing in the gospel that he is offered without exception unto all, dost heartily consent that he alone shall be thy Saviour; and dost no further trust to thy duties and works, than as conditions required by him, and means appointed in subordination to him, not looking at them as in the least measure able to satisfy the course of the law, or as a legal righteousness, nor any part of it, but art content to trust thy salvation on the redemption made by Christ ?

2. Art thou also content to take him for thy only Lord and King, to govern and guide thee by his laws and Spirit ? and to obey him even when he commandeth the hardest duties, and those which most cross the desires of the flesh ? Is it thy sorrow when thou breakest thy resolution herein; and thy joy when thou keepest closest in obedience to him ? And though the world and flesh do sometimes entice and overreach thee, yet is it thy ordinary desire and resolution to obey, so that thou wouldst not change thy Lord and Master for all the world t Thus it is with every true Christian. But if thou be a hypocrite, it is far otherwise. Thou mayst call Christ thy Lord and thy Saviour, but thou never foundest thyself so lost without him, as to drive thee to seek him, and trust him,

and lay thy salvation on him alone. Or, at least, thou didst never heartily consent that he should govern thee as thy Lord ; nor didst resign up thy soul and life to be ruled by him ; nor take his word for the law of thy thoughts and actions. It is like thou art content to be saved from hell by Christ when thou diest, but, in the mean time, he shall command thee no further than will stand with thy credit, or pleasure, or worldly estate and ends. And if he would give thee leave, thou hadst far rather live after the world and flesh, than after the word and Spirit. And though thou mayst now and then have a motion or purpose to the contrary, yet this that I have mentioned is the ordinary desire and choice of thy heart; and so thou art no true believer in Christ, for though thou confess him in words, yet in works thou dost deny him, being disobedient, and to every good work a disapprover and a reprobate, Tit. i. 17. This is the case of those that shall be shut out of the saints' rest.

But especially I would here have you observe, that it is in all this the consent of your hearts, or wills, which I lay down in this mark to be inquired after; for that is the most essential act of justifying faith : therefore, I do not ask whether thou be assured of salvation; nor yet whether thou canst believe that thy sins are pardoned, and that thou art beloved of God in Christ. These are no parts of justifying faith, but excellent fruits and consequents, which they that do receive are comforted by them ; but perhaps thou mayst never receive them while thou livest, and yet be a true heir of rest. Do not say, then, I cannot believe that my sin is pardoned, or that I am in God's favour, and therefore I am no true believer. This is a most mistaking conclusion : the question is, whether thou canst heartily accept of Christ, that thou mayst be pardoned, reconciled to God, and so saved ? Dost thou consent that he shall be thy Lord, who hath bought thee, and take his own course to bring thee to heaven ? This is justifying, saving faith ; and this is the mark that thou must try thyself by : yet, still observe, that all this consent must be hearty and real; not feigned or with reservations. It is not saying, as that dissembling son. Matt. xxi. 30, " I go, sir," when he went not; to say, Christ shall be my Lord, and yet let corruption ordinarily rule thee, or be unwilling that his commands should encroach upon the interest of the world or flesh. If any have more of the government of thee than Christ, or if thou hadst rather live after any other laws than his, if it were at thy choice, thou art not his disciple. Thus I have laid you down these two marks, which, I am sure, are such as every Christian hath, and no other but sincere Christians. I will add no more, seeing the substance of Christianity is contained in these. Oh that the Lord would now persuade thee to the close performance of this self-trying task ! that thou mayst not tremble with horror of soul, when the Judge of all the world shall try thee, but have thy evidence and assurance so ready at hand, and be so able to prove thy title to rest, that the thoughts and approaching of death and judgment may revive thy spirits, and fill thee with joy ; and not appal thee, and fill thee with amazement!

CHAPTER XI.

A MORE EXACT INQUIRY INTO THE NUMBER AND USE OF MARKS ; THE NATURE OF SINCERITY ; WITH OTHER THINGS OF GREAT MOMENT IN THE WORK OF SELF-EXAMINATION.

Sect. I. It is a matter of such inexpressible consequence for every man to make sure work in the great business of his salvation, it being so easy, so ordinary, and so dangerous to be mistaken, that I think fit yet to add some further advice, to help men in the trial of their own states. There is no Christian that hath any care of his soul, or any belief and true sense of the matters of eternity, but must needs be very solicitous in inquiring, How he may know what will become of him for ever and ever? and be glad of a clear, undeceiving direction for the discovery of this. As I lay under seven years' doubting and perplexity of spirit myself, much through my ignorance in the managing of this work, so was I very inquisitive still after signs of sincerity, and I got all the books that ever I could buy, which laid down evidences and marks of true grace, and tended to discover the difference betwixt the true Christian and the hypocrite or unsound; I liked no sermon so well as that which contained most of these marks; and afterward, when I was called to the ministry myself, I preached in this way as much as most. I have heard as many complaints of doubting, distressed souls as most: and had as many that have opened their hearts to me in this point; of whom many have proved the most humble, self-denying, mortified Christians ; and many that were deepest in doubtings and distress, upon trial of their lives, I found also deepest in pride, peevishness, unmortified lusts, and unfaithful walking, which did feed their troubles. Upon this long experience of myself and others, and most serious study of this point, and prayer to God for his direction, I think it but my duty to open yet more fully, for the benefit of others, what I have herein discovered, which is necessary for them to understand in this weighty work : for one error here may put the hearts and lives of godly people quite out of frame, and may do much to the confirming of the wicked in their presumption and self-deceit. I shall therefore lay down what I conceive to be the truth, in certain propositions.

Sect. II. Prop. 1. A sincere Christian may attain to an infallible knowledge of his own sincerity in grace, or his performance of the conditions of the covenant of life, and consequently of his justification, adoption, and title to glory; and this without any extraordinary revelation.

This proposition I have proved before, and therefore need to say no more to it now. I lay it down here by way of caution to prevent mistakes; lest any should think that I am against an attainment of assurance here, because of some passages following.

Chai'. XI. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. SSS

Sect. III. Prop. 2. This infallibln knowledge is not properly a certainty of faith, as too many divinos alllrin.

This also 1 have proved before in opening the nature of assurance, and in the appendix of my Aphorisms of Justification ; and Mr. NN'otton de Reconcil. and very many learned divines of late, have conlirmed it fully. Proper certainty of faith is, when a man by mere believing is sure of the truth of the thing believed : this, therefore, leancth fully on a Divine testimony. But there is no Divine testimony revealing, that such or such a man's sins are pardoned, or he justified. The testimony of the Spirit is but partly by giving us the conditions of the promise, which is our evidence, and partly helping us to see them, and conclude from them, and take comfort therein : and so it witnesseth with our consciences, by causing our consciences spiritually and effectually to witness. But this testimony is not the object of faith ; it is only God's testimony in Scripture which affords us a certainty of faith, properly Divine, in this point. Though in other cases natural discoveries may be truly called a Divine testimony in a larger sense; yet this is above nature : now, God's word doth only say, he that repenteth and belicvcth shall be pardoned, and justified, and saved; but no where saith, that you or I shall be saved. Object. But, you will say, as long as we may know that we believe, is it not all one ? A/isic. No : for God's word tells me not that I believe; therefore this must be known by reflection and internal sense, and not by believing. He that believeth he doth believe, believeth himself and not God ; for God no where telleth him so : so then it is beyond doubt, that assurance, as 1 said before, ariseth from the conclusion; one of whose premises is in the word of God, and must be believed; the other is in our own hearts, and must be felt or known; and therefore the conclusion is mixed, and to be deduced by reason, and is not an object properly of Divine faith, or of any faith at all. There is but one objection that seems to me to have any appearance of strength, to take with any reasonable man; and that, some think, cannot be answered. And thus they argue : Whatsoever we ask of God through Christ, according to his will, we must believe we shall receive : but we ask justification and glory of God according to his will, through Christ; therefore we must believe wx shall receive them. Ansu\ This makes not our justification and salvation to be upon certainty of faith. For, 1. The major proposition doth only express a conditional promise of justification and salvation, and no absolute promise. Now, a conditional promise puts nothing in being till the performance of the condition, nor gives any certainty but on such performance. The condition here expressed is, that we ask, and'that we ask according to God's will; which implies many other conditions; for it nmst be in faith and repentance, and to right ends, not " to consume it on our lusts," saith James ; and we must be certain that we are sincere in all this, before we can, upon this conditional promise, have a certainty. 2. So that the minor proposition here, that we thus ask according to God's will in true faith, &c. this no scripture

speaks ; and therefore must be known otherwise than by believing. 3. Yet we may be said to believe we shall receive, in reference to the major proposition or promise in Scripture, which is an object of our belief.

Sect. IV. Prop. 3. Though infallible assurance, as aforesaid, may be here attained, yet perfect certainty in degree cannot, nor may lawfully be by any man expected.

This also I have proved before. For if we may be perfect in the degree of assurance, why not of all grace as well; and so have no sin ? nay, there are so many graces exercised in producing our assurance, besides reason itself, that if th«y be not first perfect, it is impossible that assurance should be perfect. For example : He that believeth not in perfection the truth of Scripture, and of that promise, that " Whosoever believeth shall be saved ;" 2. And he that knoweth not in perfection the sincerity of his own faith, neither of which any man breathing doth do; cannot possibly be perfectly certain that he is justified, and shall be saved: for who can be perfectly certain of the conclusion, who is but imperfectly certain of the premises ? And yet I have met with some men that think themselves very learned and spiritual, that confidently dispute for a perfection in assurance. If any man say, that Bellarmine meant as much as this imperfect certainty, when he grants a conjectural certainty ; and be sure that he speaks truly; I will like Bellarmine the better, and his opposers in this the worse, but I will like a plain, necessary truth of God never the worse. Sure I am that our great divines afiirming, that we are sure of salvation by a certainty of faith, hath given the papists fearful ground to baffle them and play upon us, and triumph over them. And when their own students and followers find it so, it hardens them against us fearfully. And as sure I am that no man is perfect gradually in this life in any grace, much less in so high a point as his assurance. Among all those consciences that I have had opened to me, I never met with a humble, heavenly, upright Christian, that would say he was perfectly certain; nay, and but few, that durst call their persuasion a certainty, but rather a strong hope : but some licentious, fantastical disputers, I have heard plead for such a perfect certainty ; whose pride, and loose living, and unmortified passions and corruptions, told the standers-by, that they were the furthest from true certainty of any.

Sect. V. Prop. 4. Though in some cases it may be useful to name several marks; yet the true, infallible marks of sincerity, which a man may gather assurance from, are very few, and lie in a narrower room than most have thought.

As I would not pick quarrels with the most godly divines, who lay down many marks of sincerity in their sermons and books; so would I not, in foolish tenderness of any man's reputation, be so cruel to the souls of poor Christians, as to hide the truth from them in so weighty a point: and I speak against no man more than myself heretofore. I know ordinary Christians cannot discern how these multitudes of marks do lie open to exceptions; but the

judicious may easily perceive it. I shall therefore here tell you the truth, how far these many marks are conimcndahle and convenient, and how far they are condenmable and dangerous. And, 1. When we are only discovering the nature of some sin, rather than the certainty of the unholiness of the sinner, it is both easy and useful to give many signs, as from the effects, &c. by which it may be known what that sin is : and so men may know how far they are guilty of it. 15ut to know certainly whether that sin will prove the damnable state of the sinner, is neither easy, in most cases, nor to be done by many marks.

2. When we are discovering the nature of some duty or grace, and not the very point wherein the soul's sincerity in that grace or duty lieth, it is both easy and useful to give many marks of them. But by these no man can gather assurance of his sincerity.

3. When we are describing a high degree of wickedness, which is far from the best state of an unregenerate man, it is both easy and useful to give plain marks of such a state. But to discover just how much sin will stand with true grace, is another matter.

4. ^^'hon we are describing the state of the strongest Christians, it is easy and useful to mark them out, and to give many marks of their strength; but to give many of their truth, and to discover the least degree of true grace, is not easy. So I have shown you wherein marks may commendably be multiplied; but to lay down many marks of sincerity, and say. By these you may certainly know whether you shall be saved or not, this I dare not do.

Sect. VI. Prop. 5. There is a threefold truth to be inquired after in examination: 1. The truth of the act or habit; 2. The moral truth of it as a grace or duty; 3. The moral truth of it as a saving or justifying grace or duty, or as the condition of justification and salvation. It is the last of these three only that the great business in self-examination lieth on, and which we are now searching after; the two first being presupposed as more easily discernible, and less controvertible.

I will not here trouble plain readers, for whose sakcs I write, with any scholastic inquiries into the nature of truth, but only look into so much as is of flat necessity to a right managing of the work of self-examination ; for it is unconceivable how a man should rationally judge of his own condition, when he knows not what to inquire after; or that he should clearly know his sincerity, who knows not what sincerity is. Yet I doubt not but, by an internal feeling, a strong, sound Christian, who hath his faith and love and other graces in action, may comfortably perceive the sincerity of his graces, though he be so ignorant as not clearly and distmctly to know the nature of sincerity, or to give any just description of it; even as an unlearned man, that is of a sound and healthful body, may feci what health is when he cannot describe it, nor tell distinctly wherein it doth consist. But yet, as he hath a general knowledge of it, so hath this ignorant, sincere Christian, of the nature of sincerity. And, withal, this is a more dangerous ground to stand on, because our sense is so uncertain in this case, more

than in the welfare of the body; and the assurance of such a soul will be more defective and imperfect, and very unconstant, who goes by mere feeling, without knowing the nature of what he feeleth, even as the forementioned unlearned man, in case of bodily health ; if he have no knowledge, but mere feeling of the nature of health he will be cast down with a tooth-ache, or some harmless disease, if it be painful, as if he should presently die, when a knowing man could tell that there is no danger : and he would make light of a hectic, or other mortal disease, till it be uncurable, because he feels no great pain in it. It is, therefore, a matter of necessity to open, most clearly and distinctly, the nature of sincerity or truth, so far as concerns the case in hand. I told you before, that there is a metaphysical truth of being, and a moral ; I now add further, that here are three things to be inquired after :

1. The truth of the act; 2. The truth of the virtuousness of the act; 3. The truth of the justifying or saving nature of the act. The first is of natural, the two last of moral consideration : as, for example, if you be trying the sincerity of your love to God, you must first knov/ that you do love him indeed, without dissembling ;

2. That this love is such as is a duty or good, which God requireth;

3. That this love is such as will certainly prove you in a state of salvation. The first of these (whether you believe and love Christ or not) must needs be first known; and this must be known by internal feeling, joined with a consideration of the efFeets of real love. And to this end many marks may be useful, though, indeed, inward feeling must do almost all; no man else can tell me whether

' I believe and love, if I cannot tell myself. It is no hard matter to a solid, knov/ing Christian, to discern this ordinarily ; but when they do know this, they are far enough from true assurance, except they go to the rest. A man may be a true man, and not an image, or a shadow, or a corpse, and yet be a false thief, or a liar, and no true man in a moral sense : this I lay down to these uses.

First, That you take heed when you hear or read marks of grace, how you receive and apply them ; and inquire whether it be not only the truth of the being of the act or habit that those marks discover, rather than the virtuous or the saving being or force.

Secondly, That you take heed, in examination, of taking up at this first step, as if, when you have found that you believe, and love, and repent, you had found all, when yet you have not found that you do it savingly.

Thirdly, To take heed of the doctrine of many in this, who tell you, that every man that hath faith, knows he hath it; and it is impossible to believe, and not to know we believe. This may, ordinarily, but not always, be true about this first truth, of the mere being of the act; but is it no wonder that they should not consider that this is but a presupposed matter, and not the great thing that we have to inquire after in point of sincerity .'' and that they may know they believe long enough, and yet not know their faith to be saving t It is our beyond-sea divines that so mistake in this point: our English divines are sounder in it than any in the world^ generally : I

think because they are more practical, and have had more wounded, tender consciences undtu- cure, and less empty speculation and dispute. The second truth to be in(juired after is, that this act is truly good, or a virtue, or grace ; for every act is not a virtvu^, nor every act that may seem so. I will not stand here curiously to open to you, wherein the goodness of an action doth consist. Somewhat will be said in the following propositions: only thus much at present. To denominate an action properly and fully good, it must be fully agreeable to God's will of precept, both in tlie matter, end, measure, and all circumstances; hut, improperly and imperfectly, it may be called good or virtuous, though there be evil mixed, if the good be most eminent, as if the substance of the action be good, though the circumstances be evil ; and thus we ordinarily call actions good: but if the evil be so predominant as that the good lie only in ends or circumstances, and the substance, as it were, of the action be forbidden, then we may not call it a good action, or a grace, or duty. So that it is not perfect, proper goodness that I here speak of, but the second, that is imperfect; when the action is commanded and good in itself, and the good more eminent than the evil; yet it may not be saving for all that.

For there is a common grace which is not saving, yet real, and so true and good, and so true grace; as well as a special grace, which is saving : and there are common duties commanded by God, as alms-deeds, fasting, prayer, &c. which, though they are necessary, yet salvation doth not certainly accompany them, or follow them. A man that finds any moral virtue to be in himself truly, and to be truly a virtue, cannot thence conclude that he shall be saved, nor a man that doth a duty truly good in itself. Many did that which was good in the sight of the Lord, hut not with an upright heart ; and even an Ahab's humiliation may have some moral goodness, and so some acceptance with God, and bring some benefit to himself, and yet not be saving nor justifying.

ilnd some actions again may be so depraved by the end and manner, that they deserve not the name of good or duty. As to repent of a sinful attempt is, in itself, considered a duty and good ; but if a man repent of it only because it did not succeed, or because he missed of the gain, or pleasure, or honour, which he expected by it, thus he makes it a greater sin : and if he repent but because his pleasure is gone, or because he is brought to poverty or disgrace by his sin, this is but a natural thing, and deserves not the name of a virtue. So to love God is in itself good, and the highest duty ; but if a man love God as one that he thinks hath prospered him in his sin, and helped and succeeded him in his revenge, unjust bloodshed, robbery, sinful rising and thriving, thanking God and loving him for his pleasure in lust, drunkenness, gluttony, or the like, as the most men that idolize their flesh-pleasure do, when they have ease and honour, and all at will, that they may offer a full sacrifice to their flesh, and say, Soul, take thine ease, then they thank God for it, and may really love him under this notion. I'his is to make God a pander or servant to our flesh, and so to love him for serving and

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Immouring it; and this is so far from being a virtue, that it is one of the greatest of all sins ; and if another man love God in a better notion a little, and love his lusts more, this is no saving love, as I shall more fully show you. So that you see a man hath more to look after than the mere honesty, virtue, or moral goodness of his action ; or else all actions that are virtuous would be saving.

The third thing to be inquired after is, the sincerity of grace considered as saving. This is much more than the two former, and, indeed, is the great matter in self-examination to be looked after: here is the work; here is the difficulty; here it is that we are now inquiring, how far marks.may be multiplied, how far they may be useful, and wherein the sincerity doth consist. The two former will not denominate a man a sincere Christian, nor prove him justified, and in a state of salvation, without this. Wherein this consisteth, I shall show you in the following propositions: now, I have first showed you what it is that you must inquire after; and I hope no wise Christian will judge me too curious and exact here, seeing it is a work that nearly concerns us, and is not fit to be done in the dark : our cause must be thoroughly sifted at judgment, and our game then must be played above-board ; and therefore it is desperate to juggle and cheat ourselves now : only, before I proceed, let me tell you, that according to this threefold truth or sincerity, so there is a threefold self-delusion or hypocrisy ; taking hypocrisy for a seeming to be what we are not, either to ourselves or others, though, perhaps, we have no direct dissembling intent.

1. To take on us to repent, believe, love Christ, &c. when we do not at all: this is the grossest kind of hypocrisy, as wanting the very natural truth of the act.

2. To seem to believe, repent, love God, &c. virtuously, according to the former description, and yet to do it but in subserviency to our lusts and wicked ends, this is another sort of gross hypocrisy; yea, to do it in mere respect to fleshly prosperity, as to repent because sin hath brought us to sickness and poverty, to love God merely because he keeps up our flesh's prosperity, &c. this is still gross hypocrisy.

It may be a great question, which of these is the greater sin ; to repent and love God in subserviency to our sin, or not to do it at all ?

Answ. It is not much worth the thinking on, they are both so desperately wicked ; therefore I will not trouble the reader with a curious resolution of this question, only thus : Though to deny God's being, be a blasphemous denial of his natural excellency, and so of his attributes, which are the first platform of that which we call morality in the creature ; yet to deny these his attributes, and, withal, to ascribe sin and positive wickedness to the blessed, holy God, seems to me the greater sin ; Sicut esse diaholiim est pejus (quoad ipsumj quam i\on esse.

3. The next kind of hypocrisy, and the most common, is, when men want the sincerity of grace as saving only, but have both the truth of it as an act or habit, and as a virtue. When men have

Chai'. XI. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. ;J39

some repentance, faith, hope, love, &c. which is undissenibled and hath good ends, hut yet is not saving; this is the unsoundness which most among us in the church perish by, that do perish, and which every Christian should look most to his heart in. This, I think, is discerned by few that are guilty of it, though they might all discern it, if they were willing and diligent.

Sect. VII. Prop. G. As it is only the precepts of Christ that can assure us that one action is virtuous, or a duty, more than another ; so it is only the tenor of the covenant of grace, bestowing justification or salvation upon any act, which makes that act, or grace, justifying or saving, and can assure us that it is so.

By the precepts, I mean any divine determination concerning our duty, what we ought to do or avoid. It is the same sacred instrument which is called God's testament, his covenant, and his new law, the several names being taken from several respects, as I have opened else\vhere, and cannot now stand to prove : this law of God hath two parts, the precept and the sanction. The precept may be considered either as by itself, Do this or that, and so it maketh duty: this constitutes the virtue of actions, regulating them ; and so the second kind of sincerity, whether an action be good or bad, must be tried by the precepts as precepts. What God requireth, is a virtue : what he forbiddeth, is a vice : what he neither requir-eth nor forbiddeth, is indifferent, as being not of moral consideration ; for the popish doctrine of divine counsels is vain.

2. And then these precepts must be considered not only as they stand by themselves, and constitute duty simply, saying. Do this; but also as they stand in conjunction with the sanction, and say. Do this or that, and be saved, or else perish, as. Believe and be saved, else not. And in this respect and sense, they constitute the conditions of the covenant; and so they are the only rule by which to know what is saving grace, and what not : and only in this respect it is that they justify or condemn men. They may justify or condemn the action, as bare precepts and prohibitions; but they justify not, nor condemn, the person himself, but as precepts conjoined with the sanction; that is, with the promise or threatening.

So that it is hence evident, that no human conjecture can gather what is a saving grace or duty, and what not, either from a bare precept, considered disjunct from the promise, or from any thing in the mere nature and use of the gracious act itself. The nature of the act is but its aptitude to its office; but the consequents, (for I will not call them effects,) justification and salvation, proceed from or upon them only as conditions on which the free promise bestow-eth those benefits directly. Those, therefore, which make the formal reason of faith's justifying to lie in its apprehension, which they call its insti'umentality, being indeed the very nature and being of the act, do little know what they say, nor how derogatory to Christ, and arrogating to themselves, their doctrine is, as I have elsewhere manifested.

I conclude, then, that it is only the Scripture that can tell you

what is justifying or saving grace, by promising and annexing salvation thereto.

Sect. VIII. Prop. 7. Whatsoever therefore is the condition which the covenant of grace requireth of man, for the attaining of justification and salvation, and upon which it doth bestow them, that only is a justifying and saving act. And inferior duties are no further marks to try by, nor are justifying and saving, than as they are reducible to that condition.

This is it which I have asserted in the last foregoing chapter, and this is the reason why I laid down but two marks there. Though, in the first part, in the description of God's people, I laid down the whole description, which must needs contain some things common, and not only special properties, yet now I am to give you the true points of difference, I dare not number so many particulars. The performance of the proper condition of the new covenant, promising justification or salvation, then, is the only mark of justification or salvation, direct and infallible ; or is the only justifying and saving grace properly so called. Now, you must understand that the covenant of life hath two parts, as the condition for man to perform, if he will receive the benefits. The first is, the natural part concerning the pure Godhead, who is the first and the last, the principal, efficient, and ultimate end of all; who is our Creator, Preserver, Governor, happiness, or rest. This is the taking the Lord only for our God, in opposition to all idols visible or invisible. As the end, as such, is before and above all the means, and the Father, or mere Godhead, is above Christ the Mediator as such, (as he saith, John xiv. 28, " The Father is greater than I,") so this is the first and greater part of the condition of the covenant: and so idolatry and atheism are the greatest and first 'condemning sins. The second part of the condition is. That we take Jesus Christ only for the Mediator and our Redeemer, and so as our only Saviour and supreme Lord, by the right of redemption. This is the second part, consisting in the choice of the right and only way and means to God, as he is the end : for Christ, as Mediator, is not the ultimate end, but the way to the Father. These two parts of the condition are most evident in the word, both in their distinction and necessity. The former was part of that covenant made with Adam, which is not repealed, nor ever will be, though the rest of that covenant may be laid by. It was afterwards still fully expressed to the church before Christ's coming in the flesh : in all the people's covenanting, this was still the sum, that they took the Lord only to be their God. But the latter part was not in the covenant with Adam : nor was it openly and in full plainness put into the covenant of grace in the beginning, but still implied, and more darkly intimated, the light and clearness of revelation still increasing till Christ's coming. Yet so, as that at the utmost they had but the discovery of a Saviour to be born of a virgin, of the tribe of Judah, at such a time, but never that this Jesus was the Christ. And so it was only in a Saviour so to be revealed that they were to believe before ; but after Christ's com-

ing, and his iniraclos, and resurrection, at utmost, he tells them, " If ye believe not that I am he, you shall die in your sins." So that to them to whom ho was revealed, at least it was of necessity to believe that this .lesus is he, and not to look for another. Now, to us Christians under the New Testament, this latter part of the covenant (concerning the Mediator) is most fully expressed, and most frequently inculcated : not as if the former part (concerning Cjod the Creator aijd end) were become less necessary than })efore, or ever the less to be studii>d by Christians, or preached by the ministers of the gospel ; but on the contrary, it is still implied, as being fully revealed before, and a thing generally received by the church ; yea, and confirmed and established by the adding of the gospel, and preaching of Christ; for the end is still supposed and implied, when we determine of the means ; and the means confirm and not deny the excellency and necessity of the end. Therefore, when Paul (Acts xvii. &c.) was to preach to the Athenians or other heathens, he first preacheth to them the Godhead, and seeks to bring them from their idols, and then preacheth Christ. And therefore it is said, " He that comes to God, (as the end and his happiness, or Creator and Preserver,) must (first) believe that God is, and that he is (in the Redeemer) a rewarder of them that diligently seek him," Heb. xi. And, therefore, the apostles preached " repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ," Acts xx. 21. The first is, " the turning from idols to the true God ; " and so repentance is in order of nature before faith in the Mediator, and more excellent in its nature, as the end is than the way ; but not before faith in the Godhead. The second is the only highway to God. Therefore, Paul Avas by preaching to turn men from darkness to light, both from the darkness of atheism and idolatry, and the darkness of infidelity ; but first from the power of Satan, and worshipping devils, to God; that so next, by faith in Christ, they might receive remission of sin, and inheritance among them that are sanctified, Acts xxvi. 28. And Christ himself took the same course, and preached these two parts of the condition of the covenant distinctly. " This is life eternal, to know thee the only true God, and (then) Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent," John xvii. 3. Words of knowledge in Scripture commands, import afiection. And, " The Father is greater than I," John xiv. 28. And, " I am the way, the truth, and the life ; no man cometh to the Father but by me," John xiv. 6. And, " Ye believe in God, (there is the first part,) believe also in me," John xiv. 1, (there is the second part.) But intended brevity forbids me to heap up more proof in so plain a case.

To this last part of the condition is opposed infidelity, or not believing in Christ, being the chiefest condemning sin, next to atheism and idolatry, which are opposite to the first part. On these two parts of the condition of the covenant, hath God laid all our salvation, as much as concerns our part ; still supposing that God and the Mediator have done and will do all their part.

The first part of the condition I call the natural part, being

from the beginning, and written in the nature of every reasonable creature, and by an eminency and excellency it is of natural morality above all other laws whatsoever. The second I call the supernatural part of the condition ; as being not known to any man by the mere light of nature, but is supernaturally revealed to the world by the gospel. The first part also is the basis or great command of the decalogue, " Thou shalt have none other god but me; " or in other terms, " Thou shalt love God above all." The second is the great command of the gospel, " Believe in the Lord Jesus ; " or in other terms, " Love Christ above all." For, as I said, words of knowledge in Scripture imply affection, especially will, where all acts of the soul are complete, which in the intellect are but incomplete, imperfect, and preparatory, the understanding being but the entrance to the will, and the will being an extended understanding. Therefore, sometimes Christ saith, " He that be-lieveth not, is condemned." Sometimes, " He that loveth any thing more than me, is not worthy of me, and cannot be my disciple." And he joineth them together in John xvi. 27, Therefore hath the Father loved you, " because ye have loved me, and have believed," &c. Intellectual belief, or assent, therefore, wherever you read it commanded, implieth the will's consent and love.

And thus I have showed you what the conditions of the covenant are, which I have done the fullier, that you might know what is a saving grace or act, and what not. For you may easily conceive that it must needs be safer trying by these than by any lower act or duty : and as all other are no further saving, than as they belong to these, or are reducible to them, so you can no further try yourselves by them, but as they are reduced to these. And now you see the reason why I mentioned but only two marks in the foregoing chapter, and why I say that true marks are so few by which a man may safely try his title to heaven. And yet you shall see that we must yet reduce them to a narrower room, when we come to open the nature of sincerity. In preparation to which I must tell you, that in the terms of these tM'o marks, or two parts of the condition of the covenant, there is contained somewhat common, which an unregenerate man may perform, and somewhat special and proper to the saints. Though all must go together and be found in those that will be saved, yet the specifical form, or constitutive difference, by which, as saving, the act of a true believer is discerned from the act of an unsound person, doth lie but in a part of it, and I think but in one point : as a man is defined to be a reasonable living creature ; but to be a creature will not prove him a man, nor to be a living creature neither, because that there are other creatures, and living creatures or animate, besides himself. But to be a reasonable animal, or living creature, will prove him a man, because reason contains his specific form and constitutive difference. Other inferior creatures may have bodies, and fleshly bodies, as well as man, and others may have life, which we call a soul, and yet man must have these two ; but others with these have not reason, or a soul endued with a power of reasoning.

So ill these marks of grace, or conditions of the covenant. To h>ve, is common to every man ; to love God and Christ, is common to a Christian with a hypocrite or wicked man ; but to love Christ savingly, that is, as I shall show you presently, sovereignly, or chiefly, this is the form or constitutive diilerence of love which is saving. To take or accept, is common to every man; to take or accept of God and Christ, is common to a true Cliristian and a false ; but to take or accept of God and his Christ sincerely and savingly, is proper to a sound believer; so that even in these two marks, the sincerity of both lieth in one point. For, supposing the truth of the act, and the truth of the virtue in general, (which are both common, as I have told you,) the truth or sincerity of them as saving, is the only thing to be inquired after. And in this sense, I know but one infallible mark of sincerity ; seeing sincerity lieth in this one point. But before I come to open it more fully, I will premise, and but briefly name, two more propositions.

Sect. IX. Prop. 8. God hath not in the covenant promised justification or salvation upon any mere act or acts, considered without that degree and suitableness to their objects, wherein the sincerity of them, as saving, doth consist.

It is said, indeed, " that he that believeth shall be saved," but then it is supposed that it be sincere believing; for any believing is not here meant. For many that believed, and that without gross dissimulation, shall perish, as not believing sincerely. And, therefore, Christ would not trust himself with those that yet believed in him, because he knew their hearts, that they did it not in faithfulness and sincerity, John ii. 23, 24. But I shall confirm this more fully afterwards.

Sect. X. Projj. 9. There is no one act, considered in its mere nature and kind, without its measure and suitableness to its object, which a true Christian may perform, but an unsound Christian may perform it also.

I have great reason to add this, that you may take heed of trying and judging of yourselves by any mere act, considered in itself. If any doubt of this, we might soon prove it by producing the most excellent acts, and showing it of them in particular. Believing is as proper to the saved as any thing for the act. And yet, as for the assenting act, James tells us the devils believe. And as for resting on Christ by affiance, and expecting pardon and salvation from him, we see beyond question, that many thousand wicked men have no other way to quiet them in sinning, but that they are confident Christ will pardon and save them, and they undissem-blingly quiet or rest their souls in this persuasion, and undissem-blingly expect salvation from him when they have sinned as long as they can. And, indeed, herein lieth the nature of presumption: and so real are they in this faith, that all our preaching cannot beat them from it. If the question be, whether a wicked man can pray, or meditate, or forbear the act of this or that sin, I think none will deny it. But yet all this will be opened fullier anon.

Sect. XI. Prop. 10. The supremacy of God and the Mediator

in the soul, or the precedency and prevalency of his interest in us, above the interest of the flesh, or of inferior good, is the very point wherein materially* the sincerity of our graces, as saving, doth consist; and so is the one mark by which those must judge of their state that would not be deceived.

Prop. 11. For the saving object being resolved of in the gospel, here the sincerity of the act, as saving, consisteth formally f in being suited to its adequate object, considered in those respects which are essential to it as such an object. And so to believe in, accept, and love God as God, and Christ as Christ, is the sincerity of these acts. But this lieth in believing, accepting, and loving God, as the only supreme Authority, or Ruler, and God and Christ as the only Redeemer, and so our Lord, our sovereign Saviour, our Husband and our Head.

I join both these propositions together, because the explication of both will be best joined together. And first, I wall tell you what I mean by some of these terms in these propositions.

1. When I speak of the interest of God and the Mediator in the soul, I do not mean a mere right to us, which we c^W jus ad rem, for so God and the Mediator, God-man, have interest in all men, as being undoubtedly rightful Lord of all, whether they obey him or not; but I mean Christ's actual interest in us, and possession of us, which we c?i\\ jus in re, and that as it consisteth in a voluntary entertainment of him into all the powers of the soul, according to the several capacities and oflices. As we use to say of men in respect of their friends. Such a man hath so much interest in his friend, that he can prevail with him before any other. So, when God's interest in us is greater than the interest of the flesh, that he hath the precedency and supremacy in our understandings, wills, and affections, this is the sincerity of all our graces as saving ; and so the discovery of our soul's sincerity. I shall yet fullier open this anon.

2. I here include the interest of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, both as they are conjunct, and as they are distinct. As considered in the essence and unity of the Godhead, so their interest is conjunct ; both Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, being our Creator, Ruler, and ultimate end, and chief good. But in the distinction of persons, as it was the Son in a proper sense that redeemed us, and thereby purchased a peculiar interest in us, and dominion over us, as he is Redeemer, so doth he carry on this interest in a peculiar way. And so the interest of the Holy Ghost as our Sanctifier, is specially advanced by our yielding to his motions, &c.

3. By the supremacy of God, and the prevalency of Christ's interest, I do not mean, that it always prevaileth for actual obedience against the suggestions and allurements of the flesh. A man may

* Mark, I say but materially.

t Formally, what this sincerity is. "When I say as such, I mean only with a bare notion or opinion that God is the chief good ; for that will not make him our chief end : but, 1. "With a sound, effectual belief that he is such: 2. "With a predominant will or love, which shall give him a most prevalent interest in our hearts. These two propositions must be remembered for the understanding of the next.

possibly pleasure a lesser friend, or stranger, before a greater friend, for once or more, and then it proves not that the stranger hath the greatest interest in him. Ijut I mean, that God hath really more of his esteem, and will, and rational, though not passionate, love, and desire, and authority, and rule, in his heart and life.

4. When I speak of the interest of the flesh, I chiefly intend and include that inferior good which is the fle.sh's delight. For here are considerable distinctly, 1. The part which would be pleased in opposition to Christ ; and that, with the Scripture, I call the flesh. 2. I'he thing which this flesh desires as its happiness ; and that is, its own pleasure, delight, and full content. 3. The objects from whence it expecteth this delight and content; and that is, all inferior good which it apprehendeth to conduce most to that end, as being most suitable to itself. By the flesh, then, I mean, the soul as sensitive, as it is now since the fall become unruly, by the strengthening of its raging desires, and the weakening of reason that should rule it, and consequently the rational part thereby seduced ; or if the rational (misinformed and ill-disposed) be the leader in any sin, before or without the sensitive; so that I mean, that which inordinately inclineth us to any inferior good. This inferior good consisteth in the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and pride of life, as John distinguisheth them ; or as commonly they are disti'ibuted, in pleasure, profits, and honour; all which are concentred and terminated in the sin we call flesh-pleasing in the general; for that pleasure is it which is sought in all: or it is the pursuit of an inferior, fleshly happiness, preferred before the superior, spiritual, everlasting happiness. Though most commonly this pleasure be sought in honour, riches, eating, drinking, pleasant dwellings, company, sports, and recreations, clothes, wantonness, or lustful uncleanness, the satisfying of passions and malicious desires, or the like ; yet sometimes it riseth higher, and the sinner seeketh his happiness and content in largeness of knowledge, much learning and curious speculations about the nature of the creatures, yea, and about God himself. But perhaps it will be found that these are nearly of the same nature wath the former sensitive delights. For it is not the excellency or goodness of God himself that delighteth them, but the novelty of the thing, and the agitation of their own imagination, fancy, and intellect, thereupon, which is naturally desirous to be actuated, and employed, as receiving thereby some seeming addition to its own perfection; and that not as from God, who is the object of their knowledge, but as from the mere enlargement of knowledge in itself; or which is far worse, they make the study of God and divine things which they delight in, but subservient to some base, inferior object: and so though they delight in studying and knowing God, and heaven, and Scripture, yet not in God as God, or the chief good, nor in heaven as heaven, nor out of any true saving love to God; but either, because, as some preachers, they make a gainful trade of it, by teaching others; or because it is an honour to know these things, and be able to dis-

course of them, and a dishonour to be ignorant; or at best, as I said before, they desire to know God and divine truths, out of a delight in the novelty, and actuating, and natural elevation of the understanding hereby : it is one thing to delight in knowing, and another to delight in the thing known. An ungodly man may delight in studying and knowing several axioms or truths concerning God, but he never chiefly delighteth in God himself. As a studious man desires to know what hell is, and where, and many truths concerning it; but he desireth not hell itself, nor delighteth in it. A godly man desireth to know the nature and danger of sin, and Satan's way and wiles in temptations ; but he doth not therefore desire sin and temptation itself. So a wicked man may desire to know the nature of grace, and Christ, and glory, and yet not desire grace, and Christ, and glory. It is one thing to terminate a man's desire and delight in bare knowledge, or the esteem, or self-advancement, that accrues thereby ; and another thing to terminate it in the thing which we desire to know; making knowledge but a means to its fruition. So that, though the virtuousness or viciousness of our willing, and several affections, do receive its denomination and specification very much from the object, as in loving God, and loving sinful pleasure, &c. because there is a proper and ultimate terminus of the soul's,motion, yet the acts of the understanding may be exercised about the best of objects, without any virtuousness at all; it being but the truth and not the goodness that is its object; and that truth may be in the best object and in the worst. And so it is the same kind of delight that such a man hath in knowing God, and knowing other things ; for it is the same kind of truth that he seeks in both. And, indeed, truth is not the ultimate object terminating the soul's motion, not as it is truth, but an intermediate prerequisite to good, which is the ultimately terminating object; and accordingly the acts of the mere understanding are but preparatory to the act of the will, and so are but imperfect, initial acts of the soul, as having a further end than their own proper object: and therefore it is that all philosophers place no moral habits in the understanding, but all in the will; for till they come to the will, though they may be in a large sense morally good or evil, virtuous or vicious, yet they are but so in an imperfect kind and sense, and therefore they call such habits only intellectual.

The sum of all this is, that it is but the flesh's pleasure and interest which an ungodly man chiefly pursueth, even in his delightful studying of holy things; for he studieth holy things and profane alike. Or if any think it too narrow a phrase, to call this flesh-pleasing, or preferring the interest of the flesh, it being the soul as rational, and not only as sensitive, which turneth from God to inferior things ; I do not gainsay this : I know that man apostatized from God to himself; and that in regeneration he is turned again from himself to God. Yet this must be very cautelously understood ; for God forbiddeth not man to seek himself duly, but commandeth it: man may and must seek his own happiness. The

chief good is desired as good to us. But to state this case rightly, and determine the many great diflicultios that here rise in the way, is no fit work for this place : I will not therefore so much as name them. The easiest and safest way therefore to clear the present difficulty to us is, to look chiefly at the dilferent objects and ends : God, who is the supreme good, prosenteth and offereth himself to us to be enjoyed. Inferior good stands up in competition with him, antl would insinuate itself into our hearts, as if it were more amiable and desirable than God. Now, if God's interest prevail, it is a certain sign of grace ; if inferior good prevail, and have more actual interest or possession than God, it is a certain sign of an unhappy condition, or that the person is not yet in a state of salvation.

And as you thus see what I mean by the interest of the flesh, or inferior good in us ; so in all this I include the interest of the world and the devil: for the world is, at least, the greatest part of this inferior good, which stands in competition with God. And Satan is but the envious agent to present this bait before us; to put a false gloss on it in his presentation ; to weaken all God's arguments that should restrain us ; to disgrace God himself to our souls ; and so to press and urge us to a sinful choice and prosecution. He shows us the forbidden fruit as pleasant, and as a means to our greater advancement and happiness, and draweth us to unbelief for the hiding of the danger. He takes us up in our imagination, and shows us the kingdoms of the world and their glory, to steal our hearts from the glorious kingdom of God. So that the interest of the flesh, the interest of the world, and the interest of Satan, in us, is all one in effect. For they are but several causes to carry the soul from God, to a false, deluding, miserable end.

Again, in the proposition, I say. It is the prevalency of the interest of God or Christ, above inferior good, putting inferior good as the competitor with God, who is the greatest good ; because the will cannot incline to any thing under the notion of evil, or of in-ditferent, but only as good. No man can will evil as evil; he must evil, cease to be rational, and to be man. If evil appeared only as first there were no danger in it. The force of the temptation lies in making evil seem good, either to the senses, or imagination, or reason, or all. Here lies the danger of a pleasing ,, • tt , ,

,.^. . ] n i-i. 1 T 1 i • 1 Matt. jx. How hard

condition in regard 01 credit, delights, riches, for a rich man to cn-friends, habitation, health, or any inferior thing ; ter into the kingdom the more good appeareth or seemeth to be in them, as disjunct from God, the more dangerous; for they are the liker to stand up in competition with him, and to carry it with our partial, blinded souls in the competition. Remember this, if you love yourselves, when you would have all things about you more pleasing and lovely. Here lies the unknown danger of a prosperous state ; and on the contrary lies the precious benefit of adversity, which, if men were not brutish and unbelieving, they would heartily welcome as the safest condition.

Again, observe here, that I mention inferior good, and not truth, as that which stands in competition with God. For of two truths,

both are equally true, though not equally evident; and, therefore, though Satan would persuade the soul that inferior good is better for us than God, yet he sets not truth against truth in competition. He would indeed make us believe that God's word is not true at all, or the truth not certain. But with the understanding there is no competition between truth and truth, if known so to be. For the understanding can know and believe several truths at once, though about never so different matters, as that there is a heaven and a hell, that there is a God, a Christ, a world, a devil, &c. But the will cannot embrace and choose all different good at once; for God hath made the enjoyment of them incompatible ; much less can it will two things as the chiefest good, when there is but one such ; or God and the creature equally good, and both in the highest degree.

Here, then, you further see the meaning of the proposition ; when I speak of the prevalency of Christ's interest, I mean it directly and principally in the will of man, and not in the understanding. For though I doubt not but there is true grace in the understanding as well as in the v/ill, yet, as I shall further show anon, as it is in the intellect, it is not certainly and fully discernible, but only as the force of the intellective acts appear in the motions and resolutions of the will. And, therefore, men must not try their state directly by any graces or marks in the understanding. And also if it were possible to discern their sincerity immediately in the understanding, yet it must not be there by this way of competition of different objects in regard of the degree of verity, as if one were more true, and the other less ; as it is with the will about the degrees of goodness in the objects which stand in competition. Though yet a kind of competition there is with the intellect too;* as, 1. Between God and the creature, who is to be believed rather ; and, 2. Between two contradictory or opposite propositions, which is true, and which false. As between these, God is the chief good, and God is not the chief good ; or these, God is the chief good, and pleasure is the chief good. But though the truth be here believed, yet that .is no certain evidence of sincerity; except it be so believed, as may be prevalent with the will; which is not discernible in the bare act of believing, but in the act of willing. So that it is the prevalency of Christ's interest in the will that we here speak of; and consequently in the affections and conversation. And, indeed, as is before hinted, all human acts, as they are in the mere understanding, are but crude and imperfect; for it is but the first digestion, as it were, that is there performed, as of meat in the stomach, but in the will they are more perfectly concocted, as the chyle is sanguified in the liver, spleen, and veins; and in the affections they are yet further raised and concocted, as the vital spirits are begotten in the heart : though many here take mere flatulency for spirits ; and so they do common passion for spiritual affections: and then in the conversation, as the food in

* The sincerity of grace in the intellect, is most observable in its estimation of God above the creature, \iz. as better in himself and to us.

the habit of the hotly, the concoction is linished; so that the sincerity of grace cannot, I think, be discerned by any mere intellectual act : as you may find judicious Dr. Stoughton asserting in his " Righteous Man's Plea to Happiness." But yet do not misunderstand it, as if saving grace did not reside in the understanding. Now, as the apostle saith, " The flesh warreth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh, and these 'are contrary one to the other," Gal. v. 17, a Christian's life is a continual combat between these two contrary interests. God will be taken for our portion and hapj)iness, and so be our ultimate end, or else we shall never enjoy him to make us happy : the flesh suggesteth to us the sweetness and delight of carnal contentments, and would have us glut ourselves with these. God will rule, and that in supremacy, or he will never save us : the flesh would fain be pleased, and have its desire, whether God be obeyed and pleased or not. There is no hope of reconciling these contrary interests. God hath already made his laws, containing the conditions of our salvation or dannia-tion : these laws do limit the desires of the flesh, and contradict its delights : the flesh cannot love that which is against it. It hates them, because they speak not good of it, but evil, because it so mightily crosseth its contents. It was meet it should be so ; for if God had suffered no competitors to set up their interest against his, how would the faithfulness of his subjects be tried; how would his providences and graces be manifested ? Even to Adam, that yet had no sin, this way of trial was judged necessary : and when he ■would please his eye and his taste, and desire to be higher, it was just with God to displease him, and to bring him lower. God will not change these, his holy and righteous laws, to please the flesh, nor conform himself to its will. The flesh will not conform itself to God ; and so here is the Christian combat. Christ, who has purchased us, expecfeth the first or chief room in our affections, or else he will eflectively be no Saviour for us. The flesh doth importunately solicit the affections to give the chief room and entertainment to its contents. Christ, who hath so dearly bought the dominion over iis all, will either rule us as our Sovereign, or condemn us for our rebellion, Luke xix. 27. The flesh would be free, and is still soliciting us to treason. For as easy as Christ's yoke is, and light as is his burden, yet is it no more suited with the flesh's interest, than the heavier and more grievous law was : the law of liberty is not a law of carnal liberty. Now, in this combat, the word and ministry are solicitors for Christ; so is reason itself, so far as it is rectified and well guided: but because reason is naturally weakened and blind; yea, and the word alone is not sufficient to illuminate and rectify it ; therefore Christ sends his Spirit into the souls of his people, to make that word effectual to open their eyes : here is the great help that the soul hath for the maintaining or carrying on the interest of Christ. But yet once illuminating is not enough. For the will doth not necessarily choose that which the understanding concludeth to be best (even Jiic et nunc, ct considerafis considerandisj. A drunkard's understanding

may tell him, that it is far better, all things laid together, to forbear a cup of wine, than to drink it: and that the good of virtue and duty is to be preferred before the good of pleasure, this experience assures us of, though all the philosophers in the world should contradict it; and I am not disputing now, and therefore I will not stand to meddle with men's contrary opinions. And yet the violence of his sensual appetite may cause him to lay hands on the cup and pour it in. And, indeed, so far it is a brutish act; and it is no such wonder to have sinful acts termed and proved brutish, if we knew that all true reason is against them. Reason is on God's side, and that which is against him is not reason. We may by discourse proceed to sin ; but the arguments are all fallacious that draw us. There is no necessity to the committing of a sin, that reason or the understanding should first conclude it best: so great is the power of sense upon the fancy and imagination, and of these on the passions, and the choosing power, especially as to the exciting of the locomotive, that if reason be but silent and suspended, sin will be committed, as a man hath lustful, and revengeful, and covetous desires in his dream, and that very violent. Reason is oft asleep when the senses are awake, and then they may easily play their game; even as the godliest man cannot restrain a sinful thought or desire iia his dream, as he can waking ; so neither when he is waking, if reason be asleep : although reason never take part with sin, yet if it stand neuter, the sin will be committed. Yea, that is not all; but if reason do conclude for duty and against sin, and stand to that conclusion; yet, I think, the sensitive sinful appetite and imagination may prevail with the will, unless you will say that this appetite is the will itself, man having but one will, and so may itself command the locomotive, against, as well as without, the conclusion of reason, as in the example before mentioned.

To understand this, you must know, that to the motion of the will effectually, especially where there are violent contrary motions and inducements, it is not only necessary that the understanding-say. This is a duty, or. This is a sin ; or, It is better to let it alone: but this must be concluded of as a matter of great importance and concernment; and the understanding must express the weight as well as the truth of what it utters concerning good or evil; and this must especially be by a strong and forcible act; or else, though it conclude rightly, yet it will not prevail. Many men may have their understanding informed of the same duty, and all at the very exercise conclude it good and necessary; and so concerning the evil of sin. And yet though they all pass the same conclusion, they shall not all alike prevail with the will; but one more, and another less : because one passeth this conclusion seriously, vigorously, importunately; and the other, slightly, and sleepily, and remissly. If you be busy,* writing or reading, and one friend comes to you to call you away to some great business, and useth very weighty arguments, yet if he speak them coldly and sleepily, you may perhaps not be moved by him ; but if another come and call

Cii.vp. XI. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. ;j.51

you but upon a lesser business, and speak loud and earnestly, and will take no denial, thougli bis reasons be weaker, be niay sooner prevail. Do we not feel that the words of a preacber do take more witb our wills and alVections, from tbe moving, patbetical manner of expression, than from tbe strenglb of argument, except witb very wise men ; at least, bow mucb tliat furtbers it; wbcn tbe best arguments in tbe moutb of a sleepy preacber, or unseasonably and ill-favouredly delivered, will not take { And wby sbould we tbink tbat tbere is so great diiference between otber men's reasonings prevailing witb our wills, and our own reason's way of prevailing ?

Now, all tbis being so, tbat tbere must be a strong, lively, loud, pressing, importunate reasoning, and not only a true reasoning and concluding; bence it is tbat tbere is necessary to tbe soul, not only so mucb illumination as may discover tbe trutb, but so mucb as may discover it clearly and fully, and may sbow us tbe weight of tbe matter, as well as tbe trutb, and especially as may be still an exciter of tbe understanding to do its duty, and may quicken it up to do it vigorously ; and therefore to tbis end Christ givetb bis Spirit to bis people, to strive against tbe flesh. Tbe soul is seated in all tbe body, but we certainly and sensibly perceive tbat it dotb not exercise or act alike in all ; but it understandetb in and by the brain, or animal spirits; and it willetb, and desireth, and lovetb, and fearetb, and rejoicetb, in and by the heart, and doubtless tbe vital spirits, or those in the heart, are the soul's instrument in this work. Now, to procure a motion of the spirits in the heart, by tbe foremotion of tbe spirits in the brain, requires some strength in the first motion; and the more forcible it is, likely the more forcible will the motion in tbe heart be. This order and instrumentality in acting, is no disparagement to tbe soul; but is a sweet discovery of God's admirable and orderly works. Now, therefore, besides a bare act of understanding, there is necessary to this effectual prevailing with tbe will, tbat there be added that which we call consideration, which is a dwelling upon the subject, and is a serious, fixed, constant acting of the understanding, which therefore is likely to attain the effect: the use of this, and its power on the will and affections, and the reasons, I have showed you in the Fourth Part of this book. Hence it is, that let their wit be never so great, yet inconsiderate men are ever wicked men; and men of sober, frequent consideration, are usually the most godly, and prevail most against any temptation ; tbere being no more effectual means against any temptation, indeed, whether it be to omission or commission, than tbis setting reason forcibly a-work by consideration. The most considerate men are the most resolved and confirmed. So that besides a bare, cold conclusion of the understanding, though you call it practical, this consideration must give that force, and fixedness, and importunity, to your conclusions, which may make them stronger than all tbe sensitive solicitations to the contrary, or else the soul will still follow tbe flesh. Now Christ will have his Spirit to excite this consideration; and to enable us to perform it more powerfully, and successfully, than else

we should ever do. And thus the Spirit is Christ's solicitor in and to our souls ; and by thcni it advanceth Christ's interest, and main-taineth it in the saints, and causeth it to prevail against the interest of the flesh. Where he prevaileth not in the main, as well as striveth, there is yet no saving grace in that soul. Whatever pleadings, or strivings, or reasonings, or concludings, there may be in and by the soul on Christ's side, yet if the flesh's interest be still greater and stronger in the soul than Christ's, that soul is in a state of wrath : he may ]je in a hopeful way to come to a safer condition, and not far from the kingdom of God, and almost persuaded to be a Christian ; but if he die in that state, no doubt he shall be damned. He may be a Christian by common profession ; but, in a saving sense, no man is a Christian, in whose soul any thing hath a greater and higher interest than God the Father, and the Mediator.

Sect. XII. Prop. 12. Therefore the sincerity of saving grace, as saving, lieth materially, not in the bare nature of it, but in the degree ; not in the degree, considered absolutely in itself, but comparatively, as it is prevalent against its contrary.*

I cannot expect that the reader should suddenly receive this truth, though of so great consequence that many men's salvation are concerned in it, as I shall show anon, till I have first made it plain. Long have I been poring on this doubt, whether the sincerity of grace, and so the difference between a hypocrite and a true Christian, do materially consist in the nature, or only in the degree ; whether it be physically considered a gradual or specifical difference : and I never durst conclude that it lay but in the physical degree ; 1. Because of the seeming force of the objections, which I shall anon answer ; and, 2. Because of the contrary judgment of those divines whom I highliest valued. For though I am ashamed of my own ignorance, yet I do not repent that I received some things upon trust from the learned, while I was learning and studying them, or that I took them by a human faith, when I could not reach to take them by a Divine faith. Only, I then must hold them but as opinions; but not absolutely as articles of my creed. But I am now convinced of my former mistake; and shall therefore endeavour to rectify others, being in a matter of such moment.

You must remember, therefore, that I have showed you already, that God hath not made an act, considered in its mere nature, without considering it as in this prevailing degree, to be the condition of salvation; and that a wicked man may perform an act for the nature of it, which a true Christian may. But let us yet consider the proposition more distinctly.

Divines use to give the title of saving grace to four things.

The first is, God's purpose of saving us, and the special love and favour which he beareth to us, and so his will to do special good. This is, indeed, most principally, properly, and by an excellency, called saving grace. It is the fountain from which all other grace

* This proposition being so much misnnilerstood by many, as since the ■writing of it I perceive, I desire the render to look to the addition at the end of the book for a further explication of it, and also to the two last propositions.

doth proceed ; and I)y this grace we are elected, redeemed, justified, and saved. Now, the question in hand, is not concerning this grace which is immanent in God, where no douht there is no specifical diHerence, when divines accord that there is no diversity or multi-pHcity at all, but perfect unity, allowing still the unsearchable mystery of the Trinity ; therefore, I rest confident that no solid divine will say, that God's connnonlove or grace to the unsanctified, doth by a natural specification differ from his special love and grace to his chosen, as they are in God.

The second thing which is commonly called saving grace, is, the act of God, by which the Spirit infuseth or worketh the special, habitual, saving gifts in the soul; not the effect, for that 1 shall next mention, but the act of the Holy Ghost, which worketh this effect. This is called gnitla operana, w^orking grace ; as the effect in us is called gratia opcrata, grace wrought in us. Now,

1. This is none of it we inquire after in the question in hand, when we ask, A\ hether the truth of grace lie only in the comparative or prevailing degree i*

2, If it were, yet there is here no place for such a doubt. 1. Because no man can prove such a natural, specific difference in the acts of God, nor will, I think, afhrm them. 2. Especially, because in the judgment of great divines, there is no such act of God at all distinct from his essence and immanent, eternal acts ; so that this is the same with the former. God doth not need, as man, to put forth any act, but his mere willing it for the producing of any effect. If man will have a stone moved, his will cannot stir it, but it must be the strength of his arm ; but God doth but will it, and it is done : as Dr. Twisse once or twice saith, but Bradwardine and the Thomists peremptorily maintain. Now, God's will is his essence, and he never did begin or cease to will any thing, though he will the beginning or ceasing of things. He willed the creation of the world and the dissolution of it at once from eternity ; though he willed from eternity, that it should be created and dissolved in time ; and so the effect only doth begin and end, but not the cause. This is our ordinary metaphysical divinity. If any vulgar reader think it beyond his capacity, I am content that he move in a lower orb. But we must not feign a natural, specific difference of acts in God.

The third thing which we commonly call saving grace is, the special effects of this work of the Spirit on the soul, commonly called habitual grace, or the Spirit in us, or the seed of God abiding in us, or our real holiness, or our new nature.

Now, 1. Our question is not directly and immediately of this, Whether common and special grace do differ more than by the forementioned degree ? for this is not it which a Christian search-eth after immediately, or directly, in his self-examination. For habits, as Suarez and others conclude, are not to be felt in themselves, but only by their acts. We cannot know that we are disposed to love God, but by feeling the stirrings of love to him. So that it is the act that we must directly look for, and thence discern the habit.

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2. But if any man will needs put the question of this habitual grace only, though it be not that I speak of principally, yet I answer him, that no man doubteth but that common grace containeth good dispositions, as special grace containeth habits. Now, who knoweth not that a disposition and a habit do differ but in degree ? A carnal man, by the help of common grace, hath a weak inclination to good, and a -strong inclination to evil; or, if you will speak properly, (for the will cannot choose evil as evil, but as a seeming good,) he hath a weak inclination to spiritual and heavenly, superior good, and a strong inclination to fleshly, earthly, inferior good; whereupon the stronger bears down the weaker. But the regenerate have stronger inclinations to superior, spiritual good, than to inferior, fleshly good; and so the stronger in most temptations pre-vaileth. Now, what natural difference is here, but only in degree ?

The fourth thing which we call saving grace, is, the exercise or acts which, from these habits or effectual inclinations, do proceed; and this is the grace which the soul must inquire after directly in its self-examination; and therefore this is it of which we raise the question, wherein the truth or sincerity of it doth consist ? There are, indeed, other things without us which may yet be called saving grace, as redemption and donation (commonly called the imputation) of Christ's righteousness, and so remission, justification, '&c. ; but because every one may see that our question is not of these, I will not stand to make more mention of them. Now, for these acts of grace, who can produce any natural, specific difference between them, when they are special and saving, and when they are common and not saving '{ Is not common knowledge and special knowledge, common belief and special belief, all knowledge and belief; and is not belief the same thing in one and in another, supposing both to be real, though but one saving ? Our understandings and wills are all, physically, of the like substance; and an act and an act, are accidents of the same kind; and we suppose the object to be the same : common love to God, and special saving love to God, be both acts of the will upon an object physically the same.

But here, before I proceed further, I must tell you, that you must still distinguish between a physical or natural specification, and a moral; and remember, that our question is only of a physical difference, which I deny; and not of a moral, which I make no doubt of. And you must know, that a mere difference in degrees, in the natural respect, doth ordinarily constitute a specifical difference in morality; and the moral good or evil of all our actions lieth much in the degree, to wit, that they be kept in the mean between the two extreme degrees : and so a little anger, and a great deal, and little 'love to creatures, and a great deal, though they differ but gradually in their natures, yet they differ specifically in morality ; so that one may be an excellent virtue, and the other an odious vice ; so, between speaking too much and too little, eating or drinking too much or too little, the middle between these is a virtue, and both extremes are vices; and yet, naturally, they differ but in degree. Virtue, as virtue, consisteth not in the bare nature of an act;

but formally it consisteth in the agreement or conformity of our actions or dispositions to the rule or law, which determincth of tlieir dueness; which law, or rule, prcs^riheth the mean, or middle degree, and forbiddeth and condemneth both the extremes, in degree, where such extremes are possil)le, and we capaljle of them. So that there is a very great moral diirerence, such as may be termed specific, between those acts which naturally do differ only in degree. I say a moral, specifical difference is usually founded in a natural, gradual difference : if you confound these two specifications, you will lose yourselves in this point, and injuriously understand me.

Furthermore, observe that I say, that sincerity of grace, as saving, lieth in the degree, not formally, but, as it were, materially only ; for I told you before, the form of it consisteth in their being the condition on which salvation is promised. The form which we inquire after, is a relation. As the relation of our actions to the precept is the form of their virtuousness, viz. when they are such as are commanded; so the relation of them to the promise, is the form of them, as saving, and so as justifying : but because this promise giveth not salvation to the act considered in its mere being, and natural sincerity, but to the act as suited to its object, in its essential respects ; and that suitableness of the act to the form of its object consisteth only in a certain degree of the act, seeing the lowest degree cannot be so suited; therefore I say that sincerity lieth, as it wore, materially, only in the degree of those acts, and not in the bare and natural being of it.

Lastly, consider, especially, that I say not that sincerity lieth in the degree of any act in itself considered, as if God had promised salvation to us, if we love him so much, or up to such a height, considered absolutely ; but it is, in the degree, considered comparatively, as to God compared with other things, and as other objects or commanders stand in competition with him ; and so it is in the prevalency of the act or habit against all contraries.

Sect. XIII. Having thus explained my meaning herein, the clearing of all this to you, and fuller confirmation, will be best despatched these three ways : 1. By exemplifying in each particular grace, and trying this rule upon them severally ; 2. By examining some of the most ordinary marks, which have been hitherto delivered, and Christians use to take comfort in ; 3. By inquiring what Scripture saith in the point. And, after these, I shall answer the objections that are against it, and then show you the usefulness and necessity of it, and danger of the contrary.

1. The graces of the Spirit in man's soul, are either in the understanding, or in the will and affections. Those in the understanding, as knowledge, prudence, assent to God's word, called faith, &c. I make no question, are as truly grace, and as proper to the saints, as those in the will and affections. Divers err here on both extremes : some say that there is no special grace in the understanding, but in the will only ; others say that all special grace is in the understanding, and that the will is capable of nothing but freedom to choose or refuse, and that it ever follows the last dictate of the

practical understanding, and therefore no more is needful but to inform the understanding ; others say, both understanding and will are the subject of special, sanctifying grace, and that in both it must be sought after, and may be discerned. Between these extremes, I conceive this is the truth : both understanding and will, that is, the whole soul, which both understandeth and willeth, is truly sanctified where either is truly sanctified; and the several acts of this sanctified soul, are called several actual graces. But though grace be in both faculties, as they are called, yet is it certainly discernible only in the will, and not in the understanding; for all acts, as they are merely in the understanding, are but imperfectly virtuous, being but preparatory and introductory to the will, where they are digested and perfected, as I said before. Dr. Stoughton's words are these : " As, for my own part, I could never comprehend that which divines have gone about, to be able to put a characteristical difference in the nature of knowledge, that a man may be able to say such a knowledge is, and such a knowledge is not, a saving knowledge ; but only as I use to express it. The sun is the greater light, but the moon hath greater influence on waterish bodies ; so knowledge, let it be what it will, if it be good and saving, it hath an influence on the soul. There may be a great deal of knowledge, which is not vital and practical, which carrieth not the heart and affections along with it; and they that have it, have not saving knowledge. But they that have the least degree of knowledge, so it be such as hath an influence to draw the heart and affections along with it, love God, and obey God, it is solid and saving knowledge." So Dr. Stoughton, in his "Righteous Man's Plea to Happiness," p. 38, 39.

And, for my part, I know no mark, drawn from the mere nature of knowledge, or belief, or any mere intellectual act, by which we can discern it from what may be in an unholy person. Those that think otherwise, use to say that the knowledge and belief which is saving, is deep, lively, operative, &c. I doubt not but this is true: but how, by the depth, we shall discern the saving sincerity directly, I know not; or how to discern it in the liveliness or operativeness, but only in its operations and effects on the will and affections, I know not. Whether it be so deep and lively as to be saving, must not be discerned immediately in itself, but in its vital, prevalent operations on the will; so that I shall dismiss all the mere acts of the understanding out of this inquiry, as being not such as a Christian can try himself immediately by : and for them that say otherwise, they place the sincerity of them in the depth and liveliness, that is, in the degree of knowledge and belief; for, no doubt, a wicked man may know and believe every particular truth which a Christian doth believe. Some learned men, I have heard, affirm, indeed, that no wicked man can believe Scripture to be the word of God; but that is a fancy that I think needs no confutation: the devils believe it, no doubt. If any say that saving knowledge is experimental, and other is not,

I answer : 1. Of matters of mere faith, we have no experience;

as, that Christ is the second Person, was incarnate, crucified, buried, rose again, &c.

2. Of common practicals, wicked men have experience; as, that the world is deceitful, that man is prone to sin, that Satan must be resisted, &c.

3. For those other special, internal experiences, which denominate a Christian's knowledge experimental, the mark of sincerity lieth in the experienced thing itself, rather than the knowledge of it: for example, a Christian knows experimentally what the new birth is, what it is to love God, to delight in him, &c. Now, the mark lieth not properly in his knowledge of these, but in that love, delight, and renovation, which he possesseth, and so knoweth.

It follows, therefore, that we inquire into the acts of the will, and see wherein their saving sincerity doth consist; for, except the acts of the understanding, all that may be called saving is reducible to those two words of St. Paul, to will, and to do. For all the other acts of the soul are nothing but velle et nolle-; either exercised on the object as variously presented and apprehended, as absent or present, facile or difficult, &c. or exercised with that vigour as moveth the spirits in the heart, and denominates them affections or passions.

First, therefore, to begin with the proper act of willing, though of ourselves, without grace, no man ever willeth God in Christ ; yet on this willing hath God laid our salvation, more than on any other qualification or act in ourselves whatsoever. And yet simply to will God, to will Christ, to will heaven, is not a saving act; but when God and the creature stand in competition, to will God above all, and to will Christ above all, and heaven before earth, this is to will savingly; that is, to will God as God, the chief good, and cause of good; to will Christ as Christ, the only Saviour and chief Ruler of us ; and to will heaven as the state of our chief happiness in the glorifying enjoj^ment of God. Not that all the sincerity of these acts lieth in the understanding's apprehending God to be the chief good and cause of it, and Christ to be the only Redeemer, &c.; for a man may will that God, and that Christ, who is thus apprehended by the understanding, and yet not will him as he is thus apprehended. The understanding may overgo the will, and the will not follow the understanding ; and this is no saving willing. If a man do know and believe never so nmch that God is the chief good, and do not chiefly will him, as the devils may so believe, it is not saving; yea, it is a great question whether many do not will God (not only who is apprehended to be the supreme good, but also) <ts he is apprehended to be the supreme good, and yet love something else more than him, which they know 7iot to be the chief good, but, against their knowledge, are drawn to it by the force of sensuality, and so these men perish for all their willing; for, certainly, if God have not ordinarily the prevailing part of the will, that man's state is not good. When I say such men will God, as apprehended to be the chief good, I mean, they will him under such a notion, but not with an act of will answering that notion.

I refer the term as to the understanding's apprehension, but not to the will's action, as if it loved him as the chief good should be loved or willed ; for that is it that is wanting, for which they perish. I propound this to the consideration of the judicious; for it is certainly worth our consideration. It depends on the common question, whether the will always follow the last dictate of the practical intellect, which I shall handle elsewhere. What I have said of willing, you may easily perceive, may be said of desire and love, which are nothing but willing. Love is an intense, absolute willing of good, as good; desire, also, is a willing it as a good not yet enjoyed : therefore the saving sincerity of both lieth in the same point. Many that perish, desire God, and Christ, and heaven; and love God, and Christ, and heaven ; but they desire and love some inferior good more. He that desireth and loveth God sincerely and savingly, desireth him and loveth him above all things else ; and there lieth his sincerity.

I need not instance in hope, fear, hatred, or any of the acts or passions of the irascible; for they are therefore good, because they set against the difficulty which is in the way of their attainment to that good which they will and love ; and so their chief virtuousness lieth in that will or love which is contained in them, or supposed to them. A wicked man may fear God, but the fear of men or temporal evils is more prevalent in the trial. He may have an aversa-tion of his mind from sin, or some low degree of hatred; it is known to him to be evil, and to hurt him; but his love to it is greater, and prevaileth against his hatred. If any doubt whether a wicked man may have the least hatred of sin, yea, as sin, or as displeasing to God, we are sure of it two ways.

1. By daily experience of some drunkards, that when they are considering how much they sin against God, and wrong themselves, their hearts rise against their own sin, (especially if the temptation be out of sight,) and they will weep, and be ready to tear their own flesh ; and yet jdeld to the next temptation, and live weekly in committing of the sin.

2. By the experience of our own hearts before our sanctification (those that were not sanctified in infancy). Many have felt that their hearts had some weak degree of dislike and hatred to the sin that captivated them. And I know divers swearers and drunkards that do so hate the same sins in their children, that they are ready to fall on them violently if they commit them.

3. And we may know it by reason too. For whatsoever a man may know to be evil, that his will may have some hatred or aversa-tion towards, though not enough; but a.wicked man may know sin to be evil; therefore he may have some hatred to it. The will may sure follow the understanding a little way, though it do not far enough. But methinks those should not contraclict this, that are for the will's constant determination by the understanding.

The like I may say also of repentance, so much of it as lieth in the will; that is, the will's turning from inferior good (which it formerly chose) to God, the supreme good, whom it now chooseth:

the sincerity of this lieth in the prevailing degree, for if it he not such a change as carrieth the will more now to God than the creature, hut to God a little, and the creature still more, it is not saving. And if it be not a choosing of God before the creature, though it he a choosing of God in the second place, it will not serve turn. And for that repentance which consisteth in sorrow for sin: I. If it be not to such a degree that it prevail over our delight in sin and love to it, it is not saving. Many wicked men do daily r(>pent and sin. I have known men that would be drunk almost daily, and some seven or eight days continue in one fit of drunkenness before ever they were sober, and yet lament it with tears, and pray daily against it ; and being men of much knowledge and able parts, would confess it, and condemn themselves in very moving language, and yet iio means could keep them from it, but they have lived in it some ten, some twenty years. Who dare think that this was true repentance, when the apostle concludes, "If ye live after the flesh, ye shall die?" Rom. viii. 0; xiii. 2. Yet I must tell you, that all these graces which are expressed by passions of sorrow, fear, joy, hope, love, are not so certainly to be tried by the passion that is in them, as by the will that is either contained in them, or supposed in them; not as acts of the sensitive, but of the rational appetite. I will not here stand on the question whether grace be in the sensitive or rational appetite, as its subject, or both. Burgersdicius and others say, that moral virtue is in the sensitive only, but something like it in the will, but theological virtues are in the will. But, doubtless, if he do prove moral virtue to be in the sensitive, he will prove a proportionable measure of theological virtue to be there too. For there is no virtue, truly so called, which is not theological as well as moral.

But if there be any doubt whether an unregenerate man may perform the same act as a true Christian, it will be especially about the two great and principal graces of faith and love. And for that of faith, I have said enough before. It consisteth, according to the judgment of most reformed divines, partly in the understanding, partly in the will. As it is in the understanding, it is called assent or belief: and for this I have showed before, that a wicked man may have it in some degree; and that grace, as it is in the understanding, cannot be discerned directly ; but only as it thence pro-duceth those acts in the will wherein it may be discerned. There is no one truth which a true Christian may know, but a wicked man may also know it, though not with that lively degree of knowledge which will overrule the heart and life. Nor is there any one truth which a true Christian may believe, but a wicked man may also believe it. If any deny this, let them name me one. And do not our divines confess as much against the papists, w^ho place faith in bare assent ! And do they not expound James's " the devils believe " of such an assent ? If this were not so, it were an easy matter to try and know one's own sincerity, and so to have assurance of salvation; for we might presently name such or such an axiom, (as, that the Scripture is the word of God, or the like,) and

ask whether we do know or believe this to be true, and so might quickly be resolved. For it is the heart, or will, that is deceitful above all things, but the bare acts of the understanding may more easily be discerned, as whether we know or assent to such an axiom or not; though I know also that even the understanding partici-pateth of the guilefulness, and may be somewhat strange to itself.

But some will say that no wicked man can believe the pardon of his own sins,* or assent to the truth of this axiom. My sins are pardoned. Answ. I confess, so many have harped on this string heretofore, that I am ashamed that the papists should read it in our writings, and thereby have that occasion of hardening them in their errors, and of insulting over the reformed doctrine. I confess, no wicked man (in sensu compositoj can believe for the pardon of sin, or hath such a faith as pardon is promised to; but that they may believe their sins are pardoned, and seriously believe it, did not error make it necessary, I should be ashamed to bestow any words to prove it. 1. A wicked man may (in my judgment, without any great difficulty) believe an untruth, especially which he would fain have to be true, though every untruth he cannot believe. But this is an untruth to every wicked man, that his sins are pardoned; or, even by the Antinomians' confession, it is untrue of all wicked men not elected ; and an untruth which he would fain have to be true, (for what man is so perverse in his fancy as to doubt whether a wicked man would have his sins pardoned,) therefore he may believe it. 2. That which is one of the chief pillars in the kingdom of the devil, and the master, deceiving, damning sin, is not sure inconsistent with a wicked man's condition : but even such is the ungrounded belief that his sins are pardoned, (commonly called presumption, and false faith,) therefore, &c. 3. If it be the main work of a skilful, faithful ministry, to beat wicked men from such an ungrounded belief, and experience tells us that all means will hardly do it, and yet that God doth it on all before he bring them by the ministry to true conversion, then sure it is more than possible for a wicked man to have such a belief. But Scripture, and a world of lamentable experience, prove the antecedent ; what do such writings as Hooker's, Bolton's, Whately's, &c. else drive at ? therefore, &c. 4. Yea, that the actual pardon of our sins is not properly credendum, or a material object of faith, I have proved elsewhere, and therefore need not stand on it now.

2. And for those acts of faith which are directly in and by the will, I know not one of them, considered in the nature of the act, without the prevalent degree, which a wicked man may not perform. For the most proper and immediate act, willing, which con-taineth a choice of Christ, and a consent that he shall be ours, together with his benefits, this I have before made manifest to be consistent with an unregenerate state. If any will affirm, that a wicked man cannot be willing to have pardon of all his sins, justification, and salvation from hell, I think it not worthy my writing

* I know, fide vere divina, he cannot believe it because God never spake it; no more hath he told any of us in his word, that our sins are actually pardoned.

six lines to confute thorn ; sense will do it sufficiently. That this man cannot dosire, or choose, or will, holiness, and glory with Christ, more heartily, strongly, and prevailingly, than his pleasures or inferior good, I easily acknowledge ; for in tliat gradual defect consisteth his unsoundness. But that he may will, choose, accept, or desire, holiness and glory in a second place, next to his carnal delights or inferior good, is to me heyond doubt. And, accordingly, for the obtaining of these, he may will or accept of Christ himself that gives them. This I shall prove anon, when we speak of love.

And for that act of faith, which most affirm to be peculiarly the justifying act, that is, affiance, resting on Christ, recumbency, adherence, apprehension of him, &c. these, almost all metaphorical terms, contain, not one, but many acts, all which are most frequently found in the ungodly. For we undoubtedly know it; 1. By experience of ourselves whilst we were in their state; 2. And by constant experience of the vilest sinners, that they not only un-dissemblingly rest on Christ, (that is, trust verily to be pardoned and saved by him, and expect it from him,) but also that this is the strongest encouragement to them in sinning ; and we have need to lay all our batteries against this bulwark of presumption. Alas! to the grief of my soul, my frequent and almost daily experience forceth me to know this, whatsoever men write from their speculations to the contrary. I labour with my utmost skill to convince common drunkards, swearers, worldlings, &c. of their misery, and I cannot do it for my life ; and this false faith is the main reason. They tell me, I know I am a sinner, and so are you, and all, as well as I. But if any man sin, " we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous:" I put my whole trust in him, and cast my salvation on him ; for " he that believeth in him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life." If I tell them of the nature of true faith, and the necessity of obedience, they answer me that they know their own hearts better than I, and are sure they do really rest on Christ, and trust him with their souls. And for obedience, they will mend as well as they can, and as God will give them grace; and, in the mean time, they will not boast as the Pharisee, but cry, " Lord, be merciful to me a sinner;" and that I shall never drive them from believing and trusting in Christ for mercy, because they be not so good as others, when Christ tells them that men are not justified by works, but by faith, and he that believeth shall be saved. This is the case of the most notorious sinners, many of them, and I am most confident they speak as they think: and from this ungrounded confidence in Christ, I cannot remove them. Where now is any difference in the nature of this affiance, and that of true believers ? If you say that it l)rings not forth fruit, and therefore is unsound, that is true : but that is only an extrinsical diff'erence in the effects, and speaks not the difference in the nature of the act itself. But I have spoken of this more fully elsewhere.

But the greatest doubt is, whether, in loving God and Christ as

Mediator, there be not more than a gradual difference between the regenerate and unregenerate ; and I shall show you that there is not: for it is undeniable that an unholy person may love God and the Mediator, and as undeniable that they cannot love God above all, till they are regenerate. The latter I take for granted. The former, if any deny, is thus proved: 1. That which the understanding apprehendeth to be good, both in itself and to the person, that the will may in some measure love. But an unregenerate man's understanding may apprehend God to be good, both in himself and to his person: therefore, he may in some measure love him. That wicked men may believe that God is good, is no more to be doubted of, than that they may believe there is a God. For he that believeth there is a God, must needs believe that he is good. And that he may believe that God is good to him also, is evident, thus: 1. Men know that they have all their temporal, corporal mercies from God, (which are to them the sweetest of all,) and therefore for these, and the continuance of them, they may apprehend God to be good to them, and so love him. 2. And Scripture and constant experience tell us, that it is usual with wicked men, not only to apprehend the goodness of prosperity, but thence mis-takingly to gather, that God doth specially favour and love them as his people to salvation. 3. Also, nothing is more common with them almost, than from the thoughts of God's mercifulness and goodness, and from mistaken seeming evidences in themselves, to conclude most confidently that their sins are pardoned, and that God will not condemn them, but will save them as certainly as any other. Also, that Christ having died in their stead, and made satisfaction for all their sins, they shall, through him, be pardoned, justified, and saved. Many a wicked man doth as confidently believe that God loveth him through Christ, and doth as confidently thank God daily in his prayers for vocation, adoption, justification, and assured hope of glory, as if they were all his own indeed. Nay, out of the apprehensions of some extraordinary love and mercy of God to him above others, he oft giveth thanks as the Pharisee, " Lord, I thank thee that I am not as this publican." And, doubtless, all their apprehensions of love may produce some love to God again. As the grounded faith and hope of the godly produceth a solid saving love, so the ungrounded faith and hope of the wicked produceth a slight and common love, agreeable to the cause of it. As Christ hath a common love to the better sort of wicked men, more than to the worst; he looked on the young man, Mark x. 21, 22, and loved him, and said, " Thou art not far from the kingdom of God ;" so may such men have a common love to Christ, and that above the ordinary sort of the ungodly. For I am persuaded there is no man so wicked among us, who believeth, indeed, that Christ is the Son of God and the Saviour, but he hath some love to Christ, more or less. For, 4. God hath been pleased to give those advantages to the Christian religion, above all other religions among us, which may easily procure some love to Christ from ungodly men. It is the religion of our country ; it is a credit

to be a Christian ; it is the religion of our ancestors, of our parents, and dearest friends ; it is that whicli princes favour, and all men speak well of. Christ is in credit among us ; every man acknow-ledgeth him to be God, and the Redeemer of tiie world; and therefore on the same grounds, or better, as a Turk doth love and honour Mahomet, and a Jew, Moses, may a wicked Christian in some kind love and honour Christ, yea, and venture his life against that man that will speak against him, as Dr. Jackson and Mr. Pink have largely manifested.

Sect. XIV. If any object that it is not God or Jesus Christ that these men love, but his benefits, I answer, it is God and the Redeemer for his benefits. Only here is the unsoundness, which undoes them : they love his inferior, earthly blessings better than him ; and for this they perish.

Having thus viewed these several graces, and found that it is the prevalent degree wherein their sincerity, as they are saving, doth consist, I will next briefly try this point upon some of the ordinary marks of sincerity besides, that are given by divines; in which I shall not speak a word in quarrelling at other men's judgments, for I shall speak but of those that I was wont to make use of myself: but only what I conceive necessary to prevent the delusion and destruction of souls.

1. One mark of sincerity, commonly delivered, is this : to love the children of God because they are such. I the rather name this, because many a soul hath been deluded about it. Multitudes of those that since are turned haters and persecutors of the godly, did once, without dissemljling, love them ; yea, nmltitudes that are killing them by thousands, when they diifer from them in opinion, or stand in the way of their carnal interest, did once love them, and do love others of them still. I have proved before, that a wicked man may have some love to Christ, and then no doubt but he may have some love to a Christian, and that for his sake. Quest. But may he love a godly man for his godliness ? Amw. Yes, no doubt; those before mentioned did so. If a wicked man may have some degree of love to godliness, then he may have some degree of love to the godly for it; but that he may have some degree of love to godliness, is evident: 1. By experience of others, and of the godly before conversion, who know this was their own case ; 2. The understanding of an ungodly man may know that grace and godliness is good, and therefore his will may in some degree choose and affect it; 3. That which drew moral heathens so strongly to love men for their virtue and devotion, the same principle may as well draw a man that is bred among Christians to love a Christian for his virtues and devotion to Christ.

Object. But doth not the Scripture say, " that we know we are translated from death to life, because we love the brethren?"

Aitsic. Yes; but then you may easily know it speaks of sincere love. So it saith, "Whoever believeth shall be saved ;" and yet (Matt, xiii.) Christ showeth that many believe, who yet fall away and perish, for want of deep rooting : so that the sincerity of this

love also lieth in the degree; and, therefore, when the promise is made to it, or it made a mark of true Christians, you must still understand it of that degree which may be called sincere and saving. The difference lieth plainly here. An unsound Christian, as he hath some love to Christ, and grace, and godliness, but more to his profits, or pleasures, or credit in the world, so he hath some love to the godly, as such, being convinced that the righteous is more excellent than his neighbour; but not so much as he hath to these carnal things. Whereas the sound Christian, as he loves Christ and grace above all worldly things, so it is Christ in a Christian that he so loves, and the Christian for Christ's sake above all such things: so that when a carnal professor will think it enough to wish them well,* but will not hazard his worldly happiness for them, if he were called to it; the sincere believer will not only love them, but relieve them, and value them so highly, that, if he were called to it, he would part with his profits or pleasures, for their sakes. For example, in Queen Mary's days, when the martyrs were condemned to the fire, there were many great men that really loved them, and wished them well, and their hearts grieved in pity for them, as knowing them to be in the right; but yet they loved their honour, and wealth, and safety, so much better, that they would sit on the bench, yea, and give sentence for their burning, for fear of hazarding their worldly happiness. Was this sincere, saving love to the brethren ? Who dares think so, especially in them that went on to do thus ? Yet, what did it want but a more intense degree, which might have prevailed over their love to carnal things ? Therefore, Christ will not, at the last judgment, inquire after the bare act of love ; but, whether it so far prevailed over our love to carnal interest as to bring us to relieve, clothe, visit them, &c. and Christ in them; that is, to part with these things for them when we are called to it. Not that every man that loves the godly is bound to give them all he hath in their necessity; for God hath directed us in what order to bestow and lay out our estates ; and we must begin at ourselves, and so to our families, &c. ; so that God may call for our estates some other ways. But mark it, jou falsehearted worldlings, he that doth not so much love the ordinary sort of the godly, and Christ in them, as that he can find in his heart to bestow all his worldly substance for their relief, if God did not require him otherwise to expend it, this man hath no saving love to the godly. If, therefore, you would not cheat yourselves, as multitudes in this age have done, about your love to the brethren, try not by the bare act, but by the radicated, prevalent degree of your love. 2. Another ordinary mark of sincerity is this : when a man is the same in secret before God alone as he is in public before men, mak-

* " If a brother or sister be naked and destitute of daily food, and one of you say to them, Depart in peace, be you warmed and filled; but give them not those things which are needful to the body," &c. James ii. 15, 16. " Hereby perceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for us ; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, bow dwelleth the love of God in him t Let us not love in word and tongue, but in deed and in truth," 1 John iii. 16—18.

ing conscience of secret as well as open duties. But, no douLt, as many a godly man may be the more restrained from sin, and incited to good, from public, and perhaps carnal", motives, and so may be better, in appearance, publicly than he is in secret; for all men have some hypocrisy in them ; so many an unregenerate man may make conscience of secret duties as well as open ; yea, even of the thoughts of his heart. But, still, both secret duties and open are at the disposal of his carnal interest; for he will follow them no further than is consistent with that: so that this mark doth but show a man's sincerity in opposition to gross hypocrisy or dissembling, but not the sincerity of grace as it is saving.

3. Another ordinary mark of sincerity is thus delivered : when a man loves the closest and most searching preaching of the word, and that which putteth on to the highest degree of holiness. If he therefore love it because it putteth himself on to the highest degree of holiness, and so far love it as that he is willing to be searched and put on by it; and if he therefore come to this light, that he may know his evil thereby, that he may mortify it, and may get Christ and his interest advanced in his soul; then it is a sign that he hath that degree which I have mentioned, wherein sincerity of saving grace doth consist: but many a wicked man doth love a searching preacher in other respects, and one that draw-eth men to the highest strain, partly because he may love to have other men searched, and their hypocrisy discovered, and be put on to the highest, and partly because himself may be of and delight in the highest strain of opinion, though his heart will not be true to his principles ; nay, many a man thinks that he may the more safely be a little more indulgent to his carnal interest in heart and life, because he is of the strictest opinion, and therefore may love to hear the strictest preachers. His conscience is so blind and dull in the application, that he can easily overlook the inconsistency of his judgment, and his heart and practice. Oh how glad is he when he hears a rousing sermon, because, thinks he, this meets with such a man or such a man ; this fits the profane and lower sort of professors.. So that, in these respects, he may love a searching preacher.

4. Another common mark of sincerity is, when a man hath no known sin which he is not willing to part with. This is a true and sound mark indeed; for it signifieth not only a dislike, nor only a hatred of sin, but such a degree as is prevalent in the will, as I have before described ; that Christ's interest in the will is prevalent over all the interest of the flesh. So that this is but, in effect, the same mark that I have before delivered. Except this willingness to part with all sin should be but a cold, unconstant wish, which is accompanied with a greater and more prevalent love to it, and desire to enjoy it; and then who dare think that it is any mark of saving sincerity ? The like I might say of hatred to sin, love to good, and many the like marks, that the sincerity lieth in the prevalent degree : so also of the spirit of prayer, which is another mark. The spirit of prayer, so far as it ie proper to the

saints, lieth in desire after the things prayed for, with the other graces which in prayer are exercised ; for a hypocrite may have as excellent words as the best, and as many of them. Now these desires must he such prevalent desires as is aforesaid.

I think, if I could stand to mention all the other marks of grace, so far as I remember, it would appear that the life and truth of them all lieth in this one, as being the very point wherein saving sincerity doth consist, viz, in the prevalency of Christ's interest in the soul, above the interest of inferior good ; and so in the degree, not in the bare nature of any act.

Sect. XV. 3. To this end, let us, but briefly, inquire further into the Scripture way of discovering sincerity, and see whether it do not fully confirm what I say. Christ saith, " He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me ; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me," &c. Matt. x. 37. So Luke xiv. 26, " If any man come to me, and hate not" (that is, love not less) " his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, and his own life, he cannot be my disciple : and whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple." So ver. 33, " Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple." Here, you see, sincerity is plainly laid, not in mere love to Christ, but in the prevalent degree of love, as Christ is compared to other things. And for obedience, Christ shows it. Matt, xxv.; Luke xix. 20, &c. Therefore Christ saith, " Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; for many shall seek to enter, and not be able," Luke xiii. 24. Seeking comes short of striving, in the degree. And Paul saith, " They which run in a race, run all, but one receiveth the prize : so run that ye may obtain," I Cor. ix. 24. So ver. 26, 27, and Heb. xii, 1. And Christ commandeth, " Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness," Matt. vi. 33. Showing plainly, that the saving sincerity of our seeking lieth in this comparative degree ; in preferring God's kingdom before the things below. So he saith, " Labour not for the meat that perisheth," (not in comparison,) " but for the meat that endureth to everlasting life, which the Son will give you," John vi. 27. So Heb. xi. 6, 14, 16, 25, 26, 35; xiii. 14 ; Col. iii. 1 ; Rom. ii. 7 ; Luke xvii. 33; xii. 30, 31; Amos V. 4,8, 14; Isa. Iviii. 2, 3; i. 17; Prov. viii. 17; Psal. cxix. 2. Also, a hundred places might be produced, wherein Christ sets himself still against the world as his competitor, and promiseth life on the condition that we prefer Him before it. To this end are all those precepts for suffering, and bearing the cross, and denying ourselves, and forsaking all. The merchant that buyeth this pearl, must sell all that he hath to buy it, .though he give nothing for it. All the beginning of Rom. viii. as ver. 1—14, do fully show that our work and warfare lieth in a perpetual combat between the flesh and Spirit, between their several interests, motives, ends, and desires ; and that which prevaileth shows what we are. When the flesh prevaileth, finally, it is certain death ; and where the Spirit jn-evaileth, it is certain life. What can be more plain than that

sincerity of grace, as saving, is here placed in the comparative or prevailing degree? So also Gal. v. 17, 24, "The flesh liisteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh, and these are contrary one to the other. But they that are Christ's, have crucified the flesh with the aftections and lusts thereof," Therefore are we charged, to make no provision for the flesh to satisfy its lusts, Rom. xiii. 14. So 1 John ii. 10; Eph. ii. 3; Gal. v. 10—H); John i. 13; iii. 0. And Christ shows fully, Matt. xiii. 5, 23, &c. that the diff*erence between those that fall away, and those that persevere, proceedeth hence, that one giveth deep rooting to the gospel, and the other doth not. The seed is rooted in both, or else it would not bring forth a blade and imperfect fruit; but the stony ground gives it not deep rooting, which the good ground doth. , Doth not this make it as plain as can be spoken, that sincerity lieth in degree, and not in any physical difl'erence either of habits or acts ? The like may be gathered from all those texts of Scripture, where salvation is promised to those that overcome, or on condition of overcoming ; not to all that fight, but to all that overcome; as Rev. ii. 7, 11, 17, 20 ; iii. 5, 12, 13; xxi. 7, " He that overcometh shall inherit all things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my son." So 1 John v. 4, 5, " He that is born of God, overcometh the world." i\nd they overcame the wicked one, 1 John ii. 13 ; iv. 4. So Luke xi. 22. And the state of wicked men is described by their being overcome by sin and the world, 2 Pet. ii. 19, 20. Fighting is the same action naturally in both; but the valiant, strong, and constant, conquer; when the feeble, faint, and cowardly, and impatient, do turn their backs, and are overcome. So Christ saith, " The kingdom of heaven suflPereth violence, and the violent take it by force." Now violence is not any distinct action, but a diflterent degree of action. Nor can you say that all these places speak only of outward action. P'or no doubt but it is inward violence more than outward, and the inward actions of the soul intended, more than the motions of the body, which lay hold on the kingdom, and make us conquerors. So the saints are described in Scripture by such gradual and prevalent different acts. As David,." Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none on earth that I desire in comparison of thee," Psal. Ixxiii. 20, 27. " Thy loving-kindness is better than life," Psal. Ixiii. 3. " The Lord is my portion," &c. A wicked man may esteem God and his loving-kindness; but not as his portion, nor better than life. So the wicked are called ''' lovers of pleasure more than God," 2 Tim. iii. 4. The godly may love pleasure, but not more than God. The Pharisees loved the praise of men more than the honour which is from God, John xii. 43. A godly man may love the praise of men, but not more, &c. See also. Job iii. 21 ; xxiii. 12; Psal. xlvii.; xix. 10; hi. 3 ; cxix. 72. V^ery many more texts might be produced which prove this point, but these may suffice.

Sect. XVL 4. The next thing which I have to do is, to answer those objections which may be brought against it, and which, I confess, have sometime seemed of some weight to myself.

Object. 1. Do not all divines say that it is not the measure of grace, but the truth ; not the quantity, but the quality, that we must judge ourselves by ? And doth not Christ say that he despis-eth not the day of small things, and that he will not quench the smoking flax ; and if we had faith which is as a grain of mustard-seed, we may do wonders, &c. ?

Ansu\ All this is true of sincere grace, but not of unsincere. Now I have showed you that except it be of a prevalent degree, it is not savingly sincere. If you love God a little, and the world a deal more, will any man dare to think that it is a sincere saving love, when the Scripture saith, " He that loveth the world, the love of the Father is not in him ?" that is, there is no sincere saving love in him ; for no doubt the young man had some love to Christ, that yet forsook him because he loved the world more : or else, 1. Christ would not have loved him ; 2. Nor would the man have gone away from him in sorrow. But if you love Christ ever so little more than the world or inferior good, though it be but as a grain of mustard-seed, it will be saving, and Christ will accept it. Cicero can tell you that friendship, or the sincerity of love to a friend, consisteth not in every act and degree of undissembled love. If a man love you a little, and a thousand men much more, or if he love his wealth so much better than you, that he cannot find in his heart to be at any loss for your sake, this man is not your friend ; he doth truly love you, but he hath no true, sincere friendship or friendly love to you ; for that consisteth in such a degree as will enable a man to do and suffer for his friend. If a woman love her husband without dissembling, but yet loves twenty men better, and prostitutes lierself to them, she hath true love, but no true conjugal love to her husband ; for that consisteth in a higher degree. In a word, lay Christ, as it were, in one end of the balance in your estimation, and all your carnal interest, and all inferior good, in the other, and see which you love most ; and every grain of love which Christ hath from you more than the world and inferior things, he will accept it as sincere : and in this sense you must not judge of yourselves by the measure of your grace, but by the truth ; that is, not by any higher degree, if you have once that degree which makes it true and saving. And I do not think that you will meet with any sober divine that will tell you, that if you will love God ever so little without dissembling, yet he will accept it, though you love your lusts before him. Nor will any sober man tell you that if you love the godly without dissembling, God will accept it, though you love your carnal interest so much better ; that if they hunger, or thirst, or are naked, or in want, you cannot find in your heart to relieve them ; or if they be in prison for a good cause, you dare not be seen to visit them.

Object. 2. But perhaps you will say, If this be so, then there is no specific difference between saving grace and common.

Atistv. I told you before that you must distinguish betwixt a physical specification, and a moral. The confounding of our physics and ethics in divinity, liath made and continued abundance of

controvj^rsies, and much confusion. In a word^ there is a moral, .specific (lilhu-encc grounded hut in a pliysical, gradual difference, bolh of habits and acts, as is already more fully opened.

Object. 3. But, you may say, if there he such a difference in degrees, then how can a man know the truth of his grace, or ever get assurance ; for who can discern just the parting point '( Who can say, Just such a degree of love or faith is sincere and saving, and the next degree short of it is not ?

Answ. This objection being of most weight, I shall answer it in these propositions :

1. ^^'here the prevailing degree is not discernible, there no true assurance can be had, in an ordinary way ; and where it is very hard to discern the degree, there it will be as hard to get a.ssurance.

2. Therefore, those that have the smallest degree of saving grace, do not use to have any assurance of salvation. Assurance is the privilege of stronger Christians, and not of weak ones, or of all that shall be saved. A little is hardly discernible from none in nature.

3. And it seemeth that the reason of God's disposal herein is very evident: for if God should let men clearly see the least measure of love, faith, fear, or obedience, that is saving, and the greatest measure of sin that will stand with sincerity, and say. Just so far thou mayst sin, or mayst deny me thy love, and yet be saved and sincere, then it might have been a strong temptation to men to sin as far as ever they may, and to neglect their graces. I know some will say that assurance breeds not security. But that great measure of corruption which liveth with our small measure of grace, will make assurance an occasion of security and boldness in sinning. A strong Christian may bear and improve assurance, but so cannot the weakest; and therefore God uscth not to give as.surance to weakest Christians.

But, then, mistake me not, but remember that by weak Christians I do not mean those that are weak in gifts, and connnon parts and expressions; nor by strong Christians, those that excel in these. Those are weak Christians that have no more love to God, nor desire after Christ, than will just stand with sincerity; and that have as much love to the world and flesh, and take as much liberty to sin, as ever will stand with salvation. And those are strong Christians who strongly love God, and have mortified and mastered their corruptions.

4. Where grace is thus strong and in a great degree, there it is easily discernible, and therefore to such, assurance is ordinary, except in a fit of temptation, revolting, or desertion.

.5. But the chief part of my answer is this : It is not the degree of grace absolutely in itself considered, wherein sincerity doth consist, nor which we must inquire after in trial, but it is the degree in a comparative sense ; as when we compare God and the creature, and consider which we desire, love, fear, iicc. more : and, therefore, here it is far easier to try by the degree. You know that gold is not current except it be weight as well as pure metal. Now, if you

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put your gold in one end of the scales, and nothing in the other, you cannot judge whether it be weight or no; but if you put the weights against it, then you may discern it. If it be downright weight, you may discern it without either difficulty or doubt. If it be but a grain over-weight, you may yet discern it; though it is possible it may be so little, that the scales will scarce turn, and then you will not discern so easily which is the heavier end. But if it want much, then you will as easily on the other side discern the defectiveness. So thus here : if God had said absolutely. So much love you nuist have to me, or you cannot be saved, then it were hard to know when we reach the degree. But you must, as I said, put Christ and heaven in one end, and all things below in the other, and then you may well find out the sincerity in the degree. Every grain that Christ hath more than the creature, is sincere and saving.

Sect. XVII. 5. Lastly, having thus given you my judgment in this great point, I will give you some hint of the necessity of it, and the danger of mistaking in this case.

And, 1. I am certain that the misunderstanding of this point hath occasioned the delusion of multitudes of men : even common profane men, (much more those that are not far from the kingdom of God,) when they hear that it is not the quantity or measure of grace, that we must try by, but the quality, and that the least seed or spark is saving as well as the greatest degree, they are presently confident of the soundness of their state. Alas, how many have I known thus deceived ! When they have heard that the least true desire is accepted with God for the deed, they knew that they had desires that v/ere not counterfeit, and therefore doubted not but God did accept them, when in the mean time their desire to pleasure, and profits, and honour, was so much stronger, that it overcame their weak desires after God and goodness, and made them live in the daily practice of gross sin: and they knew not that the sincerity of their desire did lie in the prevailing degree. God doth indeed accept the will for the deed, and the best are fain to cry out with Paul, " To will is present with me, but to do I find not," in regard of those higher parts of spiritual duty, and in the avoiding of divers infirmities and passions; but then it is only the prevailing bent and act of the will which is thus accepted.

So have, I know, multitudes been deceived by their small degree of love to the godly, hearing that the least was a certain sign of grace, and knowing themselves to love them without counterfeiting, Avho yet have since been carried to be their constant persecutors, and shed their blood: the like I may say of other marks. And doth it not concern people, then, to be better grounded in this ?

2. And, doubtless, the mistake of this hath caused many sincere Christians to take up their comforts on deceitful grounds, which accordingly prove deceitful comforts, and leave them oft in a sorrowful case, (though not in a damnable,) when they come to make use of them. Satan knows how to shake such ill-grounded comforts, and he usually doth it in a man's greatest agonies, letting

them stand till then, that he may have advantage l)y their fall for ouv greater terror. When he can put a poor Christian to a loss many, times that hath the soundest evidences, what may he do hy those that either have none but unsound ones, or know them not at least.'

3. Moreover, the ignorance of this truth hath caused some ministers to wrong the holy God, and abuse poor souls, and misapply the promises ; absolving those whom God condemneth, by mistaking the meaning of that saying. That the least degree is saving as well as the greatest; which is true only of the least prevailing degree, but not of the greatest that is overmastered by the preva-Icncy of its contrary,

4. And to my knowledge this hath been no small hinderanee to many to keep them from fruitfulness and growth in grace. They have been more securely contented with their low degree : whereas if they had known that their very sincerity lieth in the prevalency of the degree, they would have looked more after it. For them that say that assurance will make men strive for increase, I answered before :* If there were no contrary corruption in strength in us, then I confess it would be as they say.

5. And lastly, the ignorance of this hath been no small cause of keeping the godly in low degrees of assurance and comfort, by keeping them from the right way of attaining them. If they had considered, that both the saving sincerity of their graces lieth in the prevailing degree, and also that the higher degree they attain the clearer and more unquestionable will be their evidence, and consequently the easier and more infallible will be their assurance; this would have taught them to have spent those thoughts and hours in labouring after growth in grace, which they spent in inquiring after the lowest degree which may stand with sincerity, and in seeking for that in themselves which was almost undis-cernible.

To conclude : This doctrine is exceeding comfortable to the poor soul that groans, and mourns, and longs for Christ, and knows that though he be not what he should and would be, yet he would be what he should be, and had rather have Christ than all the world. God hath the prevailing degree of this man's will, desire, and love.

And as necessary is this doctrine for caution to all, that as they love their souls, they take heed how they try and judge of their condition by the bare nature of any dispositions or actions, without regard to the prevalency of degree.

I advise all Christians, therefore, in the fear of God, as ever they would have assurance and comforts that w ill not deceive them, that they make it the main work of their lives to grow in grace, to strengthen and advance Christ's interest in their souls, and to weaken and get down the interest of the flesh. And take heed of

* I unfeignedly acknowledge with the Synod of Dort, (Act. de Art. v. thes. 12. p. 260,) that to those Christians that God judgt'th fit to enjoy assurance, it is no inlet to security or licentiousness, but a great exciter of their graces. But I think it would be far otherwise to those that are unfit to enjoy and use it; that is, to the lower and worse sort of sincere Christians.

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those pestilent principles of presumption, which would deceive you by the bare name and specious title of free grace; which make Christ, as justifier only, to be the object of justifying faith, and not Christ as your Head, Husband, or King : wbich tell you, that you have fulfilled the law, and satisfied it fully in Christ; and so need no more than to get the sense of pardon, or show your thankfulness : which tell you that if you do but believe that you are pardoned, and shall be saved, it shall be so indeed ; as if this were the faith that must justify and save you. Deceivers may persuade you that Christ hath done all, and left you nothing to do for your justification or salvation ; but you may easily see, from what I have said, that to mortify the flesh, to overcome Satan and the world, and to this end to stand always armed upon our watch, and valiantly and patiently to fight it out, is a matter of n^ore concernment, both to our assurance and salvation, than many do consider. Indeed, it is so great a part of our very baptismal vow, and covenant of Christianity, that he that performeth it not, is yet no more than a nominal Christian, whatsoever his parts and profession may be; and, therefore, that Christ whom they trusted in, and whose free grace they boasted of, will profess to these professors, " I never knew you : depart from me, ye that work iniquity," Matt. vii. 23. " The foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal. The Lord know-eth who are his; but let him that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity," 2 Tim. ii. 19 ; or else he shall never find himself among the sealed. " Know you not, that to whom you yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants you are to whom ye obey; whether of sin unto death, or of obedience to righteousness?" Rom. vi. IG. Not every one that seeketh, or runneth, or fighteth, much less that presumptuously believeth and trusteth, but he that overcometh, shall have the hidden manna, the white stone, the new name, the white raiment, and power over the nations; he shall eat of the tree of life in the midst of God's paradise, and shall not be hurt of the second death ; he shall be confessed by Christ before his Father and the angels ; yea, he will make him a pillar in the temple of God, and he shall go out no more : he will write on him the name of his God, and the name of the city of his God, new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from his God ; and his nevv' name. Yea, he will grant him to sit with him in his throne, as himself overcame, and is set down with his Father in his throne. " He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches," Rev. ii. 7, 11, 17, 26; iii. 5, 12,21, 22.

CHAPTER Xn.

Tfili FOURTH USK. THE REASON OF THE SAINTs' AFFLICTIONS HERE.

•Sect. I. A further necessary use we must make of the present doctrine is this : to inform us why the people of God do suiFer so much

in this life. What wonder, when you see their rest dotli yet remain ? They are not yet come to their resting-place. We would all fain have continual prosperity, hecause it is easy and pleasing to the flesh ; hut we consider not the unreasonahleness of such desires. We are like children, who, if they see any thing which their appetite desireth, do cry for it: and if you tell them that it is unwholesome, or hurtful for them, they are never the more (piietcd; or if you go about to heal any sore that they have, they will not endure you to hurt them, though you tell them that they cannot otherwise he healed : their sense is too strong for their reason, and therefore reason doth little persuade them. Even so it is with us when God is afflicting us. He giveth us reasons why we must bear them, so that our reason is oft convinced and satisfied ; and yet we cry and complain still, and we rest satisfied never tlie more. It is not reason, but ease that we must have. What cares the flesh for Scripture and argument, if it still suff'er and smart I* These be but wind and words, which do not move oi abate its pain. Spiritual remedies may cure the spirit's maladies; but that will not content the flesh. But, methinks, Christians should have another palate than that of the flesh, to try and relish providences by : God hath purposely given them the Spirit to subdue and overrule the flesh. And therefore I shall here give them some reasons of God's dealing in their present sufferings, whereby the equity and mercy therein may appear : and they shall be only such as are drawn from the reference that these afflictions have to our rest, which being a Christian's happiness, and ultimate end, will direct him in judging of all estates and means. Though if we intended the full handling of this subject, abundance more considerations, very useful, might be added. Especially, we should direct Christians to remember the sin that procured them, the blood and mercy which sanctifieth them, the fatherly love that ordereth them, and the far greater sufferings that are naturally our due. But I shall now chiefly tell you, how they further the saints in the way to their rest.

Sect. II. 1. Consider, then, that labour and trouble are the common way to rest, both in the course of nature and of grace. Can there possibly be rest, without motion and weariness ? Do you not travel and toil first, and then rest you afterwards ? The day for labour goes first, and then the night for rest doth follow. Why should we desire the course of grace to be perverted, any more than we would do the course of nature ; seeing this is as perfect and regular as the other ? God did once dry up the sea to make a passage for his people ; and once made the sun in the firmament to stand still; but must he do so always, or as oft as we would have him I It is his established decree, " that through many tri1)ula-tions we must enter into the kingdom of heaven," Acts xiv. 22 ; and " that if we suffer with him, we shall also be glorified with him," 2 Tim. ii. 22. And what are we, that God's statutes should be reversed for our pleasure .' As Bildad said to Job, " Shall the earth be forsaken for thee, or the rock be removed out of his place ?" Job xviii. 4; so, must God pervert his established order for thee ?

Sect. III. 2. Consider, also, that afflictions are exceeding useful to us, to keep us from mistaking our resting-place, and so taking up short of it. A Christian's motion heavenwards is voluntary, and not constrained. Those means, therefore, are most profitable to him, which help his understanding and will in this prosecution. The most dangerous mistake that our souls are capable of, is, to take the creature for God, and earth for heaven, iVnd yet, alas, how common is this ! and in how great a degree are the best guilty of it! Though we are ashamed to speak so much with our tongues, yet how oft do our hearts say, It is best being here; and how contented are we with an earthly portion! So that I fear, God would displease most of us more to afflict us here, and promise us rest hereafter, than to give us our heart's desire on earth, though he had never made us a promise of heaven : as if the creature without God, were better than God without the creature. Alas, how apt are we, like foolish children, when we are busy at our sports and worldly employments, to forget both our Father and our home ! Therefore is it a hard thing for a rich man to enter into heaven, because it is hard for him to value it more than earth, and not to think he is well already. Come to a man that hath the world at will, and tell him. This is not your happiness ; you have higher things to look after; and how little will he regard you ! But when affliction comes, it speaks convincingly, and will be heard when preachers cannot. What warm, affectionate, eager thoughts, have we of the world, till afflictions cool them and moderate them ! How few and cold would our thoughts of heaven be, how little should we care for coming thither, if God would give us rest on earth! Our thoughts are with God, as Noah's dove was in the ark, kept up to him a little against their inclinations and desire ; but when once they can break away, they fly up and down, over all the world, to see if it were possible to find any rest out of God ; but when we find that we seek in vain, and that the world is all covered with the waters of unstable vanity, and bitter vexation, and that there is no rest for the sole of our foot, or for the foot of our soul; no wonder, then, if we return to the ark again. Many a poor Christian, whom God will not suffer to be drowned in worldli-ness, nor to take up short of his rest, is sometimes bending his thoughts to thrive in wealth; sometimes he is enticed to some flesh-pleasing sin ; sometimes he begins to be lifted up with applause ; and sometimes, being in health and prosperity, he hath lost his relish of Christ, and the joys above ; till God break in upon his riches, and scatter them abroad, or upon his children, or upon his conscience, or upon the health of his body, and break down his mount, which he thought so strong; and then, when he lieth in Manasseh's fetters, or is fastened to his bed with pining sickness, oh what an opportunity hath the Spirit to plead with his soul! When the world is worth nothing, then heaven is worth something. I leave every Christian to judge by his own experience, whether we do not overlove the world more in prosperity than in adversity ; and whether we be not lother to come away to God, when

we have what the flesh desiroth here ! How oft are we sitting down on earth, as if we wore loth to go any further, till aflliction calls to us, as the angel to Elijah, " I'p, thou luist a great way to go!" How oft have I heen ready to think myself at home, till sickness hath roundly told me I was mistaken ! and how apt yet to fall into the same disease, which prevaileth till it he removed hy the same cure ! If our dear Lord did not put these thorns into our hed, we should sleep out our lives, and lose our glory : therefore doth the Lord sometimes deny us an inheritance on earth with our hrethren, hecause he hath separated us to stand hefore him, and minister to him, and the Lord himself will he our inheritance, as he hath promised ; as it is said of the tribe of Levi, Deut. x. ^«, 0.

Sect. IV. 3. Consider, also, that afllictions he God's most effectual means to keep us from struggling out of the way of our rest. If he had not set a hedge of thorns on the right hand, and another on the left, we should hardly keep the way to heaven. If there be but one gap open, without these thorns, how ready arc we to find it, and turn out at it! hut when we cannot go astray, hut these thorns will prick us, perhaps we will be content to hold the way. A\ hen we grow fleshly, and wanton, and worldly, and proud, what a notable means is sickness, or other affliction, to rechice us ! It is every Christian, as well as Luther, that may call affliction one of his best schoolmasters. Many a one, as well as David, may say by experience, " Before I was afflicted, I went astray ; but now have I (sincerely) kept thy precepts," Psal. cxix. 7(3. As physicians say of bodily destruction, so may we of spiritual, " that peace killeth more than war." Read Nehem. ix. Their case is ours. \\'henwehave prosperity, we grow secure and sinful; then God afilicteth us, and we cry for mercy, and purpose reformation; but after we have a little rest, we do evil again, (ver. 22,) till God take up the rod again, that he may bring us back to his law, ver. 29. And thus, prosperity, and sinning, and suffering, and repenting, and deliverance, and sinning again, do run all in a round ; even as peace breeds contention, and that breeds war, and that, by its bitterness, hreeds peace again. Many a thousand poor recovered sinners may cry, O healthful sickness! O comfortable sorrows! O gainful losses! () enriching poverty! O hlessed day that ever I was afflicted !* It is not only the pleasant streams, and the green pastures, hut his rod and staff also, that are our comfort, Psal. xxiii. Though I know it is the word and Spirit that do the main work ; yet certainly the time of suffering is so opportune a season, that the same word will take then, which before was scarce observed. It doth so unbolt the door of the heart, that a minister, or a godly man, may then he heard, and the word may have easier entrance to the affections.

* The Lacedemonian disliked not his friend's limping, because, saith he, it will make you think of virtue every step. And so, perhaps, Jacob remembered the angel. When adversity hath laid us flat on our backs, we cannot choose but look up to heaven. Dr. Stoughton in his Love-sick Spouse, p. 108. Most Christians can unfold Mr. Herbert's riddle by experience—

" A poor man's rod, when thou dost ride,

Is both a weapon and a guide." Psal. cxix. 71, 75.

Even the threats of judgment will bring an Ahab, or a Nineveh, into their sackcloth and ashes, and make them cry mightily unto God. Something, then, will the feeling of those judgments do.

Sect. V. 4. Consider, also, that afflictions are God's most effectual means to make us mend our pace in the way to our rest. They are his rod, and his spur; what sluggard will not awake and stir when he feeleth them { It were well, if mere love would prevail with us, and that we were rather drawn to heaven than driven; but seeing our hearts are so bad that mercy will not do it, it is better be put on with the sharpest scourge, than loiter out our time till the doors are shut, Matt. xxv. 3, 5, 10. Oh what a difference is there betwixt our prayers in health and in sickness ; betwixt our prosperity and our adversity repentings ! He that before had not a tear to shed, or a groan to utter, now can sob, and sigh, and weep his fill; he that was wont to lie like a block in prayer, and scarce minded what he said to God, now, when affliction presseth him down, how earnestly can he beg ! how doth he mingle his prayers and his tears { how doth he purpose and promise reformation ! and cry out, what a person he will be, if God will but hear him, and deliver him ! Alas ! if we did not sometimes feel the spur, what a slow pace would most of us hold towards heaven ! and if we did not sometimes smart by affliction, how dead and blockish would be the best men's hearts ! Even innocent x\dam is liker to forget God in a paradise, than Joseph in a prison, or Job upon a dunghill; even as Solomon is like enough to fall in the midst of pleasure and prosperity, when the most wicked Manasses in his irons may be recovered. As Dr. Stoughton saith, " We are like to children's tops, that will go but little longer than they are whipped." Seeing, then, that our own vile natures do thus require it, why should we be unwilling that God should do us good by so sharp a means ? Sure that is the best dealing for us, which surest and soonest doth further us for heaven. I leave thee, Christian, to judge by thy own experience, whether thou dost not go more watchfully, and lively, and speedily, in thy way to rest, in thy sufferings, than thou dost in thy more pleasing and prosperous state. If you go to the vilest sinner on his dying bed, and ask him, Will you now drink, and whore, and scorn at the godly, as you were wont to do ? you shall find him quite in another mincl. Much more then will affliction work on a gracious soul.

Sect. VI. 5. Consider, further, it is but this flesh which is troubled and grieved, for the most part, by affliction : and what reason have we to be so tender of it ? In most of our sufferings the soul is free, further than we do wilfully afflict it ourselves. Suppose thou be pinched by poverty, it is thy flesh only that is pinched. If thou have sores or sicknesses, it is but the flesh that they assault; if thou die, it is but that flesh that must rot in the grave. Indeed, it useth also to reach our hearts and souls, when the body suffereth; but that is, because we pore upon our evils, and too much pity and condole the flesh ; and so we open the door, and let in the pain to the heart ourselves, which else could have gone no further than the flesh; God smites the flesh, and therefore we will grieve our

spirits ; and so multiply our grief, as if we had not enough before. Oh if I could hut have let my body have sufTered alone in all the Joining and paining sicknesses which Ciod laid upon it, and not have ibolishly added my own self-tornicnting fears, and cares, and sorrows, and discontents ; but have (juietcd and comforted my soul in the J>ord, my rock and rest; I had escaped the far greater part of the afflictions. Why is this flesh so precious in our eyes ; why are we so tender of these dusty carcasses { is flesh so excellent a thing ; is it not our prison i" and what if it be broken down, is it not our enemy ; yea, and the greatest that we ever had ? and are we so fearful lest it be overthrown ; is it not it that hath so long hampered and clogged our souls, and tied them to earth ; and enticed them to for])idden lusts antl pleasures ; and stolen away our hearts from God i was it not it, that longed for the first forbidden fruit ; and must needs be tasting, whatever it cost ? And still it is of the same teniper; it must be pleased, though God be displeased by it, and ourselves destroyed. It maketh all God's mercies the occasion of our transgressing, and draweth poison from the most excellent objects. If we behold our food, it enticeth to gluttony ; if drink, to drunkenness; if apparel, or any thing of worth, to pride ; if we look upon beauty, it enticeth to lust; if upon money or possessions, to covetousness. It causeth our very spiritual love to the godly, to degenerate into carnal; and our spiritual zeal, and joy, and other graces, it would make all carnal like itself. What are we beholden to this flesh for, that we are so loth that any thing should ail it { Indeed, we must not wrong it ourselves, for that is forbidden us; nor may we deny it any thing that is fit for a servant, that so it may be useful to us, while we are forced to use it. But if God chastise it for rebelling against him and the Spirit, and it begin to cry and complain under his chastisement, shall we make the suffering greater than it iSj and take its part against God ? Indeed, the flesh is very near to us, we caimot choose but condole its sufferings, and feel somewhat of that which it feeleth. But is it so near as to be our chiefest part; or can it not be sore, but we must be sorry; or cannot it consume and pine away, but our peace and comfort must consume with it.'' What if it be undone, are we therefore undone ? or if it perish and be destroyed, do we therefore perish ? O fie upon this carnality and unbelief, which are so contradictory to the principles of Christianity ! surely (iod dealeth the worse with this flesh, because we so overvalue and idolize it. We make it the greatest part of our care and labour to provide for it, and to satisfy its desires; and we would have God to be of our mind, and to do so too. But as he hath conniianded us " to make no provision for the flesh, to fulfil the desires or lusts thereof," Rom. xiii. 14; so will he follow the same rule himself in his dealings with us; and will not much stick at the displeasing of the flesh, when it may honour himself, or profit our souls. The flesh is aware of this, and perceives that the word and works of God are much against its desires and delights, and therefore is^ it also against the word and works of Cjod : it saith of the word^ as Ahab of Micaiah, " I hate

it, for it doth not speak good concerning me, but evil/' 1 Kings xxii. 8. There is such an enmity betwixt this flesh and God, " that they that are in the flesh cannot please him, and the carnal mind is enmity against him ; for it is not subject to his law, nor indeed can be :" so inconsistent is the pleasing of the flesh, and the pleasing of God, that he hath concluded, " that to mind the things of the flesh, or to be carnally-minded, is death; and if we live after the flesh, we shall die : but if by the Spirit we mortify the deeds of the body, we shall live," Rom. viii. 4—8, 13.

So that there is no likelihood that ever God's dealings should be pleasing to the flesh; no more than its works are pleasing to God. Why then, O my soul, dost thou side with this flesh, and say as it saith, and complain as it complaineth 1 It should be part of thine own work to keep it down, and bring it in subjection,

1 Cor. ix. 26, 27 ; and if God do it for thee, shouldst thou be discontented ? Hath not the pleasing of it been the cause of almost all thy spiritual sorrows ? Why, then, may not the displeasing of it further thy joys ? Should not Paul and Silas sing, because their feet were in the stocks, and their flesh yet sore with the last day's scourgings ? Acts xvi. Why, their spirits were not imprisoned, not scourged ? Ah, unworthy soul, is this thy thanks to God for his tenderness of thy good, and for his preferring thee so far before the body ? Art thou turned into flesh thyself by thy dwelling a few years in flesh, that thy joys and thy sorrows are most of them so fleshly? Rom. viii. 12. Art thou so much a debtor to the flesh, that thou shouldst so much live to it, and value its prosperity ? Hath it been so good a friend to thee, and to thy peace ; or, is it not thy enemy as well as God's ? W'hy dost thou look so sadly on those withered limbs and on that pining body ? Do not so far mistake thyself as to think its joys and thine are all one, or that its prosperity and thine are all one, or that they must needs stand or fall together. W'hen it is rotting and consuming in the grave, then shalt thou be a companion of the perfected spirits of the just, Heb. xii, 23; and when those bones are scattered about the churchyard, then shalt thou be praising God in rest. And in the mean time, hast not thou food of consolation which the flesh knoweth not of; and a joy which this stranger meddleth not with .'' And do not think that, when thou art turned out of this body, that thou shalt have no habitation: art thou afraid thou shalt wander destitute of a resting-place 1 Is it better resting in flesh than in God ? Dost thou not know, that when this house of earth is dissolved, " thou hast a building with God, not made with hands, eternal in the heavens ?"

2 Cor. v. 1,2. It would, therefore, better become thee earnestly to groan, desiring to be clothed upon with that, ver. 3, 4, Is thy flesh any better than the flesh of Noah was ? and yet, though God saved him from the common deluge, he would not save him from common death. Or, is it any better than the flesh of Abraham, or Job, or David, or all the saints that ever lived ? yet did they all suff'er and die. Dost thou think that those souls which are now with Christ do so much pity their rotten or dusty corpse, or lament

that their ancient habitation is ruined, and their once comely bodies turned into earth ? Oh ! what a thing is strangeness and disacquaintanoe ! It niaketh us afraid of o\ir dearest friends, and to draw back from the place of our only happiness : so was it with thee towards thy chiefest friends on earth : while thou wast unacquainted with them, thou didst withdraw from their society ; but when thou didst once know them thoroughly, thou wouldst have been loth again to be deprived of their fellowship. And even so, though thy strangeness to God and another world do make thee loth to leave this flesh; yet, when thou hast been but one day or hour there, if we may so speak of that eternity, where is neither day nor hour, thou wouldst be full loth to return into this flesh again. Doubtless, when God, for the glory of his Son, did send back the soul of Lazarus into its body, he caused it quite to forget the glory which it had enjoyed, and to leave behind it the remembrance of that happiness, together with the happiness itself-or else it might have made his life a burden to him to think of the blessedness that he was fetched from, and have made him ready to break down the prison doors of his flesh, that he might return to that happy state again. O, then, impatient soul, murmur not at God's dealings with that body; but let him alone with his work and way. He knows what he doth ; but so dost not thou : he .seeth the end ; but thou seest but the beginning. If it were for want of love to thee, that he did thus chastise thy body, then would he not have dealt so by all his saints. Dost thou think he did not love David and Paul, or Christ himself? or, rather, doth he not chasten because he loveth, and scourgeth every son whom he re-ceiveth? Heb. xii. 4—8, 10, 11 ; Matt. vi. 23; Rom. viii. 6—8; 1 Cor. ii. 2, 10—14. Believe not the flesh's reports of God, nor its commentaries upon his providences. It hath neither will nor skill to interpret them aright: not will; for it is an enemy to them. They are against it, and it is against them. Not skill; for it is darkness: it savoureth only the things of the flesh; but the things of the Spirit it cannot understand, because they are spiritually discerned. Never expect then that the flesh should truly expound the meaning of the rod. It will call love, hatred ; and say, God is destroying, when he is saving; and murmur, as if he did thee wrong, and used thee hardly, when he is showing thee the greatest mercy of all. Are not the foul steps the way to rest, as well as the fair i yea, are not thy sufferings the most necessary passages of his providence ? And though, for the present, they are not joyous, but grievous ; yet, in the end, do they bring forth the quiet fruits of righteousness to all those that are exercised thereby, Heb. xii. 11. Hast thou not found it so by former experience, Avhen yet this flesh would have persuaded thee otherwise ? Believe it then no more, which hath misinformed thee so oft; for, indeed, there is no believing the words of a wicked and ignorant enemy. Ill-will never speaks well; but when malice, viciousness, and ignorance, are combined, what actions can expect a true and fair interpretation ? This flesh will call love, anger; and anger, hatred; and

chastisements, judgments. It will tell thee, that no man's case is like thine; and if God did love thee, he would never so use thee, Psal. cxvi. 11. It will tell thee, that the promises are hut deceiving words, and all thy prayers and uprightness are vain, Psal. Ixxiii. 13—15. If it find thee sitting among the ashes, it will say to thee, as Joh's wife, "Dost thou yet retain thine integrity?" Job ii. 8—10. Thus will it draw thee to offend against God, and the generation of his children. It is a party, and a suffering party, and therefore not fit to he the judge. If your child should be the judge when and how oft you should chastise him, and whether your chastisement be a token of fatherly love, you may easily imagine what would be his judgment. If we could once believe God, and judge of his dealings by what he speaks in his word, and by their usefulness to our souls, and reference to our rest, and could stop, our ears against all the clamours of the flesh, then we should have a truer judgment of our afflictions.

Sect. VII. 6, Lastly, consider, God doth seldom give his people .so sweet a foretaste of their future rest as in their deep afflictions. He keepeth his most precious cordials for the time of our greatest faintings and dangers. To give them to such men that are well and need them not, is but to cast them away : they are not capable of discerning their working or their worth. A few drops of Divine consolation in the midst of a world of pleasure and contents, will be but lost and neglected, as some precious spirits cast into a vessel or river of common waters. The joys of heaven are of unspeakable sweetness ; but a man that overflows with earthly delights is scarce capable of tasting their sweetness. They may easilier comfort the most dejected soul, than him that feeleth not any need of comfort, as being full of other comforts already. Even the best of saints do seldom taste of the delights of God, and pure, spiritual, unmixed joys, in the time of their prosperity, as they do in their deepest troubles and distress. God is not so lavish of his choice favours as to bestow them unseasonably. Even to his own will he give them at the fittest time, when he knoweth that they are needful, and will be valued, and when he is sure to be thanked for them, and his people rejoiced by them. Especially, when our sufferings are more directly for his cause, then doth he seldom fail of sweetening the bitter cup. Therefore have the martyrs been possessors of the highest joys, and therefore were they in former times so ambitious of martyrdom. 1 do not think that Paul and Silas did ever sing more joyfully, than when they were sore with scourgings, and were fast in the inner prison, with their feet in the stocks. Acts xvi. 24, 25. When did Christ preach such comforts to his disciples, and leave them his peace, and assure them of his providing them mansions with himself, but when he was ready to leave them, and their hearts to be sorrowful because of his departure ? "When did he appear among them, and say, " Peace be unto you," but when they were shut up together for fear of the persecuting Jews ? When did the room shake where they were, and the Holy Ghost come down upon them, and they lift up their voices in praising God, but when

llicy were imprisoned, conveiited, and llireatened for the name of Christ.' Acts iv. 24, .31. "NN'htm did Stephen see heaven opened, but when he was giving up his hfo for the testimony of .lesus i Acts vii. 55. And though we be never put to the suffering of martyrdom, yet (iod knoweth that in our natural suil'erings we need support. Many a Christian that hath waited for Christ, with Simeon in the temple, in duty and holiness all his days, yet never finds him in his arms till he is dying, though his love was fixed in their hearts before ; and they that wondered they tasted not of his comforts, have then, when it was needful, received abundance. And, indeed, in time of prosperity, that comfort which we have is so mixed, according to the mixed causes of it, that we can very hardly discern what of it is carnal and what is spiritual. But when all worldly comforts and hopes are gone, then that which is left is most likely to be spiritual. And the Spirit never worketh more sensibly and sweetly than when it worketh alone. Seeing, then, that the time of aftliction is the time of our most pure, spiritual, heavenly joy, for the most part, why should a Christian think it so sad a time ? Is not that our best estate wherein we have most of God i Why else do we desire to come to heaven i If we look for a heaven of fleshly delights, we shall find ourselves mistaken. Conclude, then, that affliction is not so bad a state for a saint in his way to rest as the flesh would make it. Are we wiser than God? Doth not he know what is good for us better than we ? Or is he not as careful of our good as we are of our own ? Ah ! woe to us if he were not much more ; and if he did not love us better than we love either him or ourselves !

Sect. VIII. But let us hear a little what it is that the flesh can object.

I. Oh ! saith one, I could bear any other affliction save this : if God had touched me in any thing else, I could have undergone it patiently; but it is my dearest friend, or child, or wife, or my health itself, &c.

I answer. It seemeth God hath hit the right vein, where thy most inflamed, distempered blood did lie : it is his constant course to pull down men's idols, and take away that which is dearer to them than himself. There it is that his jealousy is kindled ; and there it is that thy soul is most endangered. If God should have taken from thee that which thou canst let go for him, and not that which thou canst not; or have afflicted thee where thou canst bear it, and not where thou canst not; thy idol would neither have been discovered nor removed. This would neither have been a sufficient trial to thee, nor a cure ; but have confirmed thee in thy soul-deceit and idolatry.

Ohjecl. 2. Oh ! but, saith another, if God would but deliver me out of it yet, I could be content to bear it: but I have an uncurable sickness; or I am like to live and die in poverty, or disgrace, or the like distress.

I answer, 1. Is it nothing that he hath promised, it shall work for thy good, Rom. viii. 28 ; and that, with the affliction, he will

make a way to escape : that he will he with thee in it; and deliver thee in the fittest manner and season ? 2. Is it not enough that thou art sure to be delivered at death, and that with so full an advancing deliverance ? Oh ! what cursed unbelief doth this discover in our hearts ! that we would be more thankful to be turned back again into the stormy, tumultuous sea of the world, than to be safely and speedily landed at our rest; and would be gladder of a few years' inferior mercies at a distance, than to enter upon the eternal inheritance with Christ. Do we call God our chief good, and heaven our happiness ; and yet is it no mercy or deliverance to be taken hence, and put into that possession ?

Object. 3. Oh ! but, saith another, if my affliction did not disable me for duty, I could bear it; but it maketh me useless, and utterly unprofitable.

Answ. 1. For that duty which tendeth to thy own personal benefit, it doth not disable thee, but is the greatest quickening help that thou canst expect. Thou usest to complain of coldness, and dulness, and worldliness, and security : if affliction will not help thee against all these, by warning, quickening, rousing thy spirit, I know not what will. Sure thou wilt repent thoroughly, and pray fervently, and mind God and heaven more seriously, either now or never. 2. And for duty to others, and for thy service to the church, it is not thy duty when God doth disable thee. He may call thee out of the vineyard in this respect, even before he call thee by death. If he lay thee in the grave, and put others in thy place to do the service, is this any wrong to thee, or doth it beseem thee to repine at it ? Why so, if he call thee out before thy death, and let thee stand by, and set others to do the work in thy stead, shouldst thou not be as well content ? Must God do all the work by thee ? Hath he not many others as dear to him, and as fit for the employment ? But, alas ! what deceitfulness lieth in these hearts ! When we have time, and health, and opportunity to work, then we loiter, and do our Master but very poor service ; but when he layeth affliction upon us, then we complain that he disableth us for his work, and yet perhaps we are still negligent in that part of the work which we can do : so, when we are in health and prosperity, we forget the public, and are careless of other men's miseries and wants, and mind almost nothing but ourselves. But when God af-flicteth us, though he excite us more to duty for ourselves, yet we complain that he disableth us for our duty to others; as if, on the sudden, we were grown so charitable that we regard other men's souls far more than our own. But is not the hand of the flesh, in all this dissimulation, secretly thus pleading its own cause? What pride of heart is this, to think that other men cannot do the work as well as we; or, that God cannot see to his church, and provide for his people, without us !

Object. 4. Oh ! but, saith another, it is the godly that are my afflicters : they disclaim me, and will scarce look at me ; they censure me, and backbite me, and slander me, and look upon me with a disdainful eye. If it were ungodly men, I could bear it easily; I

Cn.vi'. XII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. :iS3

look I'or no Letter at their hands : hut when those that were my delight, and that I looked for daily comfort and refreshing from ; when these shall be my grief, and as thorns in my sides, who can hear it ?

A/isw. 1. Whoever is the instrument, the affliction is from God, and the provoking cause from thyself; and were it not fitter then that tliou look more to God and thyself!' 2. Dost thou not know that the best men are still sinful in part, and that their hearts arc naturally deceitful, and desperately wicked, as well as others ? And this being but imperfectly cured, so far as they are lleshly the fruits of the flesh will appear in them ; which are, strife, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, seditions, heresies, envyings, ^c. Gal. v. 10— 21. ISo far, the best is a brier, and the most upright of them sharper than a thorny hedge : learn, therefore, a better use from the prophet: " Trust not too much in a friend, nor put confidence iu a guide ; keep the doors of thy mouth from her that lieth in thy bosom, &c. But look rather for the Lord, and wait for the God of thy salvation," Micah vii. 4—7. It is likely thou hast given that love and trust to saints, which were due only to God, or which thou hast denied him, and then no wonder if he chastise thee by them. If we would use our friends as friends, God would make them our helps and comforts ; but when once we make them our gods, by excessive love, delight, and trust, then he suifers them to prove Satans to us, and to be our accusers and tormentors. It is more safe to me to have any creature a Satan than a god ; to be toi*-mented by them, than to idolize them. Or perhaps the observation of the excellency of grace hath made thee forget the vileness of nature ; and therefore God will have thee take notice of both. Many are tender of giving too much to the dead saints, that yet give too much to the living without scruple. Till thou hast learned to suffer from a saint as well as from the wicked, and to be abused by the godly as well as the ungodly, never look to live a contented or comlbrtable life, nor ever think thou hast truly learned the art of suffering. Do not think that I vilify the saints too much in so saying : I confess, it is pity that saints should sutfer from saints; and it is quite contrary to their holy nature, and their Master's laws, who hath left them his peace, and made love to be the character of his disciples, and to be the first and great and new commandment ; and I know that there is much difference between them and the world in this point: but yet, as I said, they are saints but in part, and therefore Paul and Barnabas may so fall out, as to part asunder, and upright Asa may imprison the prophet, call it persecution or what you please : Joseph's brethren, that cast him into a pit, and sold him to strangers for a slave, I hope were not all ungodly ; Job's wife and friends were sad comforters ; David's enemy was his familiar friend, with whom he had taken sweet counsel, and they had gone up together to the house of God. And Icnow also that thy own nature is as bad as theirs, and thou art as likely thyself to be a grief to others. Can such ulcerous, leprous sinners, as the best are, live together, and not infect and molest each other

with the smell of their sores ? Why, if thou be a Christian, thou art a daily trouble to thyself, and art molested more with thy own corruptions than with any man's else ; and dost thou take it so heinously to be molested with the frailties of others, when thou canst not forbear doing more against thyself? For my part, for all our graces, I rather admire at that wisdom and goodness of God, that maintains the order and union we have amongst us ; and that he suiFereth us not to be still one another's executioners, and to lay violent hands on ourselves and each other. I dare not think that there is no one gracious that hath laboured ta destroy others that were so in these late dissensions. Sirs, you do not half know yet the mortal wickedness of depraved nature. If the best were not more beholden to the grace of God without thenr, than to the habitual grace within them, you should soon see " that men of low degree are vanity, and men of high degree are a lie ; to be put in the balance, they are lighter than vanity itself," Psal. Ixii. 7—9. " For what is man, that he should be clean; and he that is born of a woman, that he should be righteous ? Behold, he putteth no trust in his saints, and the heavens are not clean in his sight: how much more abominable and filthy is man, that drinketh up iniquity like water!" Job xv. 14—16.

Object. 5. Oh, but if I had that consolation which you say God reserveth for our suffering times, I should suffer more contentedly; but I do not perceive any such thing.

Ansiv. 1. The more you suffer for righteousness' sake, the more of this blessing you may expect ; and the more you suffer for your own evil doing, the longer you must look to stay till that sweetness come. When we have by our folly provoked God to chastise us, shall we presently look that he should till us with comfort ? That were; as Mr. Paul Bayn saith, " to make affliction to be no affliction." What good would the bitterness do us if it be presently drowned in that sweetness ? It is well in such sufferings if you have but supporting grace, and your sufferings sanctified to work out your sin, and bring you to God.

2. Do you not neglect or resist the comforts which you desire ? God hath filled precepts, and promises, and other of his providences, with matter of comfort; if you will overlook all these, and make nothing of them, and pore all upon your sufferings, and observe one cross more than a thousand mercies, who maketh you uncomfortable but yourselves ? If you resolve that you will not be comfortable as long as any thing aileth your flesh, you may stay till death before you have comfort.

3. Have your afflictions wrought kindly Vv ith you, and fitted you for comfort { Have they humbled you, and brought you to a faithful confession and reformation of your beloved sins ; and made you set close to your neglected duties ; and weaned your hearts from their former idols; and brouglit them unfeignedly to take God for their portion and their rest '{ If this be not done, how can you expect comfort ? Should God bind up the sore while it fester-eth at the bottom ? It is not mere suffering that prepares you

for comfort, but the success and fruit of suffering upon your hearts.

I shall say no more on this subject of afflictions, because so many havo written on it already ; among which 1 desire you especially to read Mr. Bayn's Letters, and Mr. Hughes' Dry Rod Blooming and Fruit-bearing, and Young's Counterpoison.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE FIFTH USE. AN EXHORTATION TO THOSE THAT HAVE GOT ASSURANCE OF THIS REST, OR TITLE TO IT, THAT THEY WOULD DO ALL THAT POSSIBLY THEY CAN TO HELP OTHERS TO IT ALSO.

Sect. I. Hath God set before us such a glorious prize as this everlasting rest of the saints is, and hath he made man capable of such an unconceivable happiness ? Why then do not all the children of this kingdom bestir themselves more to help others to the enjoyment of it ? Alas, how little are poor souls about us beholden to the most of us ! We see the glory of the kingdom, and they do not ; we see the misery and torment of those that miss of it, and they do not; we see them wandering quite out of the way, and know if they hold on they can never come there, and they discern not this themselves. And yet we will not set upon them seriously, and show them their danger and error, and help to bring them into the way that they may live. Alas, how few Christians are there to be found that live as men that are made to do good, and that set themselves with all their might, to the saving of souls! No thanks to us if heaven be not empty, and if the souls of our brethren perish not for ever.

But because this is a duty which so many neglect, and so few are convinced that God doth expect it at their hands, and yet a duty of so high concernment to the glory of God, and the happiness of men, I will speak of it somewhat the more largely, and show you, 1. Wherein it doth consist, and how to be done. 2. What is the cause that it is so neglected. 3. And then give some considerations, to persuade you to the performance of it, and others to the bearing of it. 4. And lastly, apply this more particularly to some persons whom it doth nearly concern. Of all these in order.

Sect. II. 1. I would have you, therefore, well understand what is this work which I am persuading you to : know, then, on the negative, 1. It is not to invade the office of the ministry, and every man to turn a public preacher : I would not have you go beyond the bounds of your callings. We see, by daily experience, what fruits those men's teaching doth bring forth, who run uncalled and thrust themselves into the place of public teachers, thinking themselves the fittest for the w^ork, in the pride of their hearts, w^hile they had 2 c

need to be taught the very first principles of religion. How little doth God bless the labours of these self-conceited intruders !

Neither do I persuade you to a zealous promoting of factions and parties, and venting of uncertain opinions, which men's salvation is little concerned in. Alas, what advantage hath the devil lately got in the church by this imposture ! The time that should be employed in drawing men's souls from sin to Christ, is employed in drawing them to opinions and parties. \N hen men are fallen in love with their own conceits, and proudly think themselves the wisest, how diligently do they labour to get them followers ! as if to make a man a proselyte to their opinions, were as happy a work as to convert him to Christ: and when they fall among the lighter, ignorant, unsounder sort of professors, whose religion is all in their brain, and on their tongues, they seldom fail of their desired success. These men shall shortly know, that to bring a man to the knowledge and love of Christ, is another kind of work, than to bring him to be baptized again; or to be of such a church, or such a side. Unhappy are the souls that are taken in their snare ! who, when they have spent their lives in studying and contending for the circumstantials of religion, which should have been spent in studying and loving the Lord Jesus, do in the end reap an empty harvest suitable to their empty profession.

3. Nor do I persuade you to speak against men's faults behind their backs, and be silent before their faces, as the common custom of the world is. To tell other men of their faults, tendeth little to their reformation, if they hear it not themselves. To whisper out men's faults to others, as it cometh not from love, or from any honest principle, so usually doth it produce no good effect ; for if the party hear not of it, it cannot better him ; if he do, he will take it but as the reproach of an enemy, tending to disgrace him, and not as the faithful counsel of a friend, tending to recover him ; and as that which is spoken to make him odious, and not to make him virtuous. It tendeth not to provoke to godliness, but to raise contention ; for " a whisperer separateth the chiefest friends," Prov., xvi. 28. And how few shall we find that make conscience of this horrible sin, or that will confess it, and bewail it, when they are reprehended for it ! especially if men are speaking of their enemies, or those that have wronged them, or whom they suppose to have wronged them; or if it be of one that eclipseth their glory. Gen. xxxi. 1; Psal. xli. 7, or that standeth in the way of their gain or esteem; or if it be one that differeth from them in judgment; or of one that is commonly spoken against by others; who is it that maketh any conscience of backbiting such as these t And you shall ever observe, that the forwarder they are to backbiting, the more backward always to faithful admonishing ; and none speak less of a man's faults to his face for his reformation, than those that speak most of them behind his back, to his defamation. If ill-will or envy lie at the heart, it maketh them cast forth disgracing speeches as oft as they can meet with such as themselves, who will hear and entertain them. Even as a corrupt humour in

the stomach provoketh a man to vomit up all that he taketh, while itself remaineth, and continueth the disease, I Sam. xxii. U ; Dan. vi. 3 ; Kom. i. 20, 30 ; John vii. .'51. It is Chrysostom's similitude.

So far am I from persuading, therefore, to this preposterous course, that I would advise you to oppo,se it wherever you meet with it. See that you never hear a man speaking against his neighbour behind his back, without some special cause or call, but presently rebuke him ; ask him, whether he hath spoke those things in a way of love to his face ? if he have not, ask him, how lie dare to pervert God's prescribed order, who commandeth to rebuke our neighbour plainly, and to tell him his fault first in private, and then before witness, till he see whether he will be won or not, Lev. xix. 17 ; Matt, xviii. 15, 17 ; and how he dare do as he would not be done by ?

Sect. III. The duty therefore that I would press you to, is of another nature, and it consisteth in these things following. 1. That you get your hearts affected with the misery of your brethren's souls; be compassionate towards them ; yearn after their recovery to salvation : if you did earnestly long after their conversion, and your hearts were fully set to do them good, it would set you a-work, and God would usually bless it.

2. Take all opportunities that possibly you can, to confer with them privately about their states, and to instruct and help them to the attaining of salvation. And lest you should not know how to manage this work, let me tell you more particularly what you are heroin to do. 1. If it be an ignorant, carnal person that you have to deal with, who is an utter stranger to the mysteries of religion, and to the work of regeneration on his own soul, the first thing you have to do is, to acquaint him with these doctrines : labour to make him understand wherein man's chief happiness doth consist, and how far he was once possessed of it, and what law and covenant God then made with him, and how he broke it, and what penalty he incurred, and what misery he brought himself into thereby; teach him what need men had of a Redeemer, and how Christ in mercy did interpose and bear the penalty, and what covenant now he hath made with man, and on what terms only salvation is now to be attained, and what course Christ taketh to draw men to himself, and what are the riches and privileges that believers have in him.

If, when he understandeth these things, he be not moved by them, or if you find that the stop lieth in his will and affections, and in the hardness of his heart, and in the interest that the flesh and the world have got in him, then show him the excellency of the glory which he neglecteth, and the intolerableness of the loss of it, and the extremity and eternity of the torments of the damned, and how certainly they must endure them, and how just it is for their wilful refusals of grace, and how heinous a sin it is to reject such free and abundant mercy, and to tread under foot the blood of the covenant ; show him the certainty, nearness, and terrors of death and judgment, and the vanity of all things below which now 2 c 2

he is taken up with, and how little they will hestead him in that time of his extremity ; show him that by nature he himself is a child of wrath, an enemy to God, and by actual sin much more; show him the vile and heinous nature of sin, the absolute necessity he standeth in of a Saviour, the freeness of the promise, the fulness of Christ, the sufficiency of his satisfaction, his readiness to receive all that are willing to be his, the authority and dominion which he hath purchased over us; show him also the absolute necessity of regeneration, faith, and holiness of life, how impossible it is to have salvation by Christ without these, and what they are, and the true nature of them. If, when he understandeth all this, you find his soul enthralled in presumption and false hopes, persuading himself that he is a true believer, and pardoned, and reconciled, and shall be saved by Christ; and all this upon false grounds, or merely because he would have it so, which is a common case; then urge him hard to examine his state ; show him the necessity of trying, the danger of being deceived, the commonness and easiness of mistaking through the deceitfulness of the heart, the extreme madness of putting it to a blind adventure, or of resting in negligent or wilful uncertainty; help him in trying himself; produce some undeniable evidences from Scripture ; ask him, whether these be in him or not ? whether ever he found such workings or dispositions in his heart ? urge him to a rational answer; do not leave him till you have convinced him of his misery, and then seasonably and wisely show him the remedy. If he produce some common gifts, or duties, or woi'k, know to what end he doth produce them ; if to join with Christ in composing him a righteousness, show him how vain and destructive they are ; if it be by way of evidence to prove his title to Christ, show him how far a common work may reach, and wherein the life of Christianity doth consist, and how far he must go further, if he will be Christ's disciple. In the mean time, that he be not discouraged with hearing of so high a measure, show him the way by which he must attain it ; be sure to drav/ him to the use of all means ; set him a hearing and reading the word, calling upon God, accompanying the godly ; persuade him to leave his actual sin, and to get out of all ways of temptation, especially to forsake ungodly company, and to wait patiently on God in the use of means ; and show him the strong hopes that in so doing he may have of a blessing, this being the way that God will be found in.

If you perceive him possessed with any prejudicate conceits against the godly, and the way of holiness, show him their falsehood, and with wisdom and meekness answer his objections.

If he be addicted to delay the duties he is convinced of, or laziness and stupidity do endanger his soul, then lay it on the more powerfully, and set home upon his heart the most piercing considerations, and labour to fasten them as thorns in his conscience, that he may find no ease or rest till he change his state.

Sect. IV. But because in all works the manner of doing them is of greatest moment, and the right performance doth much further the success, I will here adjoin a few directions, which you

must 1)0 sure to observe in this work of exhortation, for it is not every advice that useth to succeed, nor any liianner of doing it that will serve the turn. Observe, therefore, these rules :

1. Set upon the work sincerely, and with right intentions. Let thy ends be the glory of God in the party's salvation. Do it not to get a name or esteem to thyself, or to bring men to depend upon thee, or to get thee followers ; do not, as many carnal parents and masters will do, viz. rebuke their children and servants for those sins that displease them, and are against their profit, or their humours, as disobedience, unthriftiness, unmannerlinoss, &c. and labour much to reform them in these, but never seek in the right way that God hath appointed to save their souls ; but be sure the main end be to recover them from misery, and bring them into the way of eternal rest. We have many reprovers, but the manner shows too plainly that there are few sincere. Pride bids men reprove others, to manifest a high estimation of themselves; and they obey ; and proudly, censoriously, and contemptuously they do it. I'assion bids them reprove, and passionately they do it. But it is those that do it in compassion and tender love to men's souls, who do it in obedience to Christ, the most tender, compassionate lover of souls, and who imitate him in their measure and place, who came to seek and to save that which was lost.

Sect. V. 2. Do it speedily : as you would not have them delay their returning, so do not you delay to seek their return. You are purposing long to speak to such an ignorant neighbour, and to deal with such a scandalous sinner, and yet you have never done it. Alas ! he runs on the score all this while ; he goes deeper in debt; wrath is heaping up ; sin taketh rooting ; custom doth more fasten him ; engagements to sin grow stronger and more numerous ; conscience grows seared; the heart grows hardened : while you delay, the devil rules and rejoiceth ; Christ is shut out; the Spirit is repulsed ; God is daily dishonoured, his law is violated, he is without a servant, and that service from him which he should have ; the soul continues in a doleful state ; time runs on ; the day of visitation hasteth away ; death and judgment are even at the door ; and what if the man die and miss of heaven, while you are purposing to teach him and help him to it ? what if he drop into hell while you are purposing to prevent it ? If in case of his bodily distress, you must not bid him go, and come again to-morrow, when you have it by you, and he is in want, Prov. iii. 27, 2S, how much less may you delay the succour of his soul ! If once death snatch him away, he is then out of the reach of your charity. That physician is no better than a murderer, that negligently delayeth till his patient be dead or past cure. Delay in duty is a great degree of disobedience, though you afterwards perform it; it shows an ill heart, that is undisposed to the work. Oh how many a poor sinner perisheth, or grows rooted and next to incurable in sin, while we are proposing to seek their recovery ! Opportunities last not always. When thou hearest that the sinner is dead, or removed, or grown obstinate, will not conscience say to thee. How knowest thou I'ut thou

mightest have prevented the damnation of a soul ? Lay by excuses then, and all lesser business, and obey God's command, " Exhort one another daily, while it is called to-day, lest any be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin," Heb, iii. 13,

Sect. VI. 3. Let thy exhortation proceed from compassion and love, and let the manner of it clearly show the person thou dealest with, that it hence proceedeth. It is not jeering, or scorning, or reproaching a man for his faults, that is a likely way to work his reformation ; nor is it the right way to convert him to God, to rail at him and vilify him with words of disgrace. Men will take them for their enemies that thus deal with them : and the words of an enemy are little persuading. Lay by your passion, therefore, and take up compassion, and go to poor sinners with tears in your eyes, that they may see you indeed believe them to be miserable, and that you do unfeignedly pity their case ; deal with them with earnest, humble entreatings ; let them see that your very bowels do yearn over them, and that it is the very desire of your hearts to do them good ; let them perceive that you have no other end but the procuring of their everlasting happiness ; and that it is your sense of their danger, and your love to their souls, that forced you to speak, even because you know the terrors of the Lord, and for fear lest you should see them in eternal torments: say to them. Why, friend, you know it is no advantage of my own that I seek. The way to please you, and to keep your friendship, were to soothe you in your way, or to speak well of you, or to let you alone, but love will not suffer me to see you perish, and be silent: I seek nothing at your hands, but that which is necessary to your own happiness ; it is yourself that wall have the gain and comfort if you come in to Christ, &c. If men would thus go to every ignorant, wacked neighbour they have, and thus deal with them, oh w^hat blessed fruit should we quickly see ! I am ashamed to hear some lazy, hypocritical wretches, to revile their poor, ignorant neighbours, and separate from their company and communion, and proudly to judge them imfit for their society, before ever they once tried with them this compassionate exhortation. Oh, you little know what a prevailing course this were like to prove ! and how few of the vilest drunkards or swearers would prove so obstinate, as wholly to reject or despise the exhortations of love ! I know it must be God that must change men's hearts, but I know also that God w orketh by means, and when he meaneth to prevail with men, he usually fitteth the means accordingly, and stirreth up men to plead with them in a prevailing way, and so setteth in with his grace, and maketh it successful. Certainly, those that have tried, can tell you by experience, that there is no way so prevailing with men as the way of compassion and love. So much of these as they discern in your exhortation, usually, so much doth it succeed with their heart; and, therefore, I beseech those that are faithful to practise this course. Alas ! we see the most godly people among us, or at least those that would seem most godly, cannot bear a reproof that comes not in meekness and love; if there be the least bitterness of passion, or relish of

CuAi-. Xlll. THE SAINTS" EVERLASTING REST. ;i«jl

disgrace in it, they are ready to spit it out in your face ; yea, if you do not so sugar your reproof with fair words, that it be liker to flattery than phiin dealing, or liker a conniiendation than a reproof, Ihey cannot well digest it, hut their heart will rise up against you, instead of a thanklul submission and a reformation ; if it savour not liker to food than physic, it will hardly down with them, or they will soon vomit it up. What should we flatter one another for.'' It is now no time to flatter professors, when their sins have broke forth more shamefully than ever in the world; for my part, the most of them that I have been acquainted with yet are such. I meet not with one of a multitude that seem the most godly, but this is their very case ; such heinous pride remaineth in the best. And do you expect, then, that poor, ignorant, carnal sinners, should take that w'ell that professors cannot endure; and should drink in those bitter reproofs as a pleasant draught, which you can scarcely pour into professors as a drench ? Can you look that the same dealing should be saving to them, which you find to be exasperating and distempering to yourselves ? Oh that it were not too evident that the Pharisee is yet alive in the breasts of many thousands, that seem most religious, even in this one point of bearing plain and sharp reproof! They bind heavy burdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders, but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers. Matt, xxiii. 4. So far are they from doing, in this, as they would be done by.

Sect. \TI. 4. Another direction I would give you is this: Do it with all possible plainness and faithfulness ; do not daub with men, and hide from them their misery or danger, or any part of it; do not make their sins less than they are, nor speak of them in an extenuating language; do not encourage them in a false hope or faith, any more than you would discourage the sound hopes of the righteous. If you see his case dangerous, tell him plainly of it: Neighbour, I am afraid God hath not yet renewecT your soul, and that it is yet a stranger to the great work of regeneration and sanctification: I doubt 5'ou are not yet recovered from the power of Satan to God, nor brought out of the state of wrath, which you were born in, and have lived in: I doubt you have not chosen Christ above all, nor set your heart upon him, nor unfeignedly taken him for your sovereign Lord. If you had, sure you durst not so easily disobey him ; you could not so neglect him and his wor-.ship in your family and in public ; you could not so eagerly follow the world, and talk of almost nothing but the things of this world, while Christ is seldom mentioned or sought after by you. If you were in Christ, you would be a new creature; old things would be passed away, and all things would become new; you would have new thoughts, and new talk, and new company, and new endeavours, and a new conversation: certainly, without these you can never be saved. You may think otherwise, and hope better, as long as you will, but your hopes will deceive you, and perish with you. Alas ! it is not as you will, nor as I w ill, who shall be saved, but it is as God will; and God hath told us, " that without holiness none shall

see him ;" and " except we be born again, we cannot enter into his kingdom ;" and " that all that would not have Christ reign over them, shall be brought forth and destroyed before him," Heb. xii, 14; John iii. 3 ; Luke xix. 27. Oh ! therefore, look to your state in time. Thus must you deal roundly and faithfully with men, if ever you intend to do them good; it is not hovering at a distance in a general discourse, that will serve the turn; it is not in curing men's souls, as in curing their bodies, where they must not know their danger, lest it sadden them, and hinder the cure. They are here agents in their own cure, and if they know not their misery, they will never bewail it, nor know how much need they have of a Saviour. If they know not the worst, they will not labour to prevent it, but will sit still, or loiter till they drop into perdition, and will trifle out their time in delays till it be too late; and, therefore, speak to men, as Christ to the Pharisees, till they knew that he meant them : deal plainly, or you do but deceive and destroy them. Sect. VIII. 5. And as you must do it plainly, so, also, seriously, zealously, and effectually. The exceeding stupidity and deadness of men's hearts is such, that no other dealing will ordinarily work. You must call loud to awaken a man in a swoon or lethargy. If you speak to the common sort of men of the evil of their sin, of their need of Christ, of the danger of their souls, and of the necessity of regeneration, they will wearily and unwillingly give you the hearing, and put off all with a sigh, or a few good wishes, and say, God forgive us, we are all sinners, and there is an end. If ever you will do them good, therefore, you must sharpen your exhortation, and set it home, and follow it with their hearts, till you have roused them up, and made them begin to look about them. Let them know that thou speakest not to them of indifferent things, nor about children's games, or worldlings' vanities, or matters of a few days' or years' continuance, nor yet about matters of uncertainty, which perhaps may never come to pass : but it is about the saving and damning of their souls and bodies ; and whether they shall be blessed with Christ, or tormented with devils, and that for ever and ever without any change; it is, how to stand before God in judgment, and what answer to give, and how they are like to speed. And this judgment and eternal state they shall very shortly see, they are almost at it; yet a few more nights and days, and they shall presently be at that last day; a few more breaths they have to breathe, and they shall breathe out their last: and then as certainly shall they see that mighty change, as the heaven is over their heads, and the earth under their feet. O labour to make men know, that it is mad jesting about salvation or damnation; and that heaven and hell be not matters to be played with, or passed over with a few careless thoughts ! It is most certain that one of these clays thou shalt be either in everlasting, unchangeable joy or torments ; and doth it not awake thee ? Is there so few that find the way of life, so many that go the way of death ? Is it so hard to escape, so easy to miscarry ? and that while we fear nothing, but think all is well ? and yet you sit still and trifle ! Why, what do you mean ?

what do you think on .'' The world is passing away ; its pleasures are fading ; its honours are leavnig you ; its profits will prove un-profitahle to you ; heaven or hell are a little hei'ore you; God is just, and jealous ; his threatenings are true ; the great day of his judgment will be terrible ; your time runs on ; your lives are uncertain ; you are far behindhand ; you have loitered long; your case is dangerous ; your souls are far gone in sin ; you are strange to God ; you are hardened in evil customs; you have no assurance of pardon to show ; if you die to-morrow, how unready are you, and with what terror will your souls go out of your bodies ! and do you yet loiter for all this { Why, consider with yourselves : God standoth all this while waiting your leisure : his patience beareth, his justice forbeareth ; his mercy cntreateth you; Christ standeth offering you his blood and merits ; you may have him freely, and life with him ; the Spirit is persuading you ; conscience is accusing and urging you ; ministers are praying for you, and calling upon you; Satan stands waiting, when justice will cut off your lives, that he may have you : this is your time ; now or never. What! had you rather lose heaven than your profits or pleasures ? Had you rather burn in hell than repent on earth { Had you rather howl and roar there, than pray day and night for mercy here ? Or to have devils your tormentors, than to have Christ your governor ? Will you renounce your part in God and glory, rather than renounce your cursed sins ? Do you think a holy life too much for heaven, or too dear a course to prevent an endless misery ? O friends, what do you think of these things .'' God hath made you men, and endued you with reason; do you renounce your reason where you should chiefly use it ? In this manner you must deal roundly and seriously with men. Alas! it is not a few dull words, between jest and earnest, between sleep and waking, as it were, that will waken an ignorant, dead-hearted sinner. When a dull hearer and a dull speaker meet together, a dead heart and a dead exhortation, it is far unlike to have a lively effect. If a man fall down in a swoon, you will not stand trifling with him, but lay hands on him presently, and snatch him up, and rub him, and call aloud to him ; if a house be on fire, you will not in a cold affected strain go tell your neighbour of it, nor go make an oration of the nature and danger of fire; but you will run out, and cry. Fire, fire. Matters of moment must be seriously dealt with. To tell a man of his sins so softly as I'^li did his sons, reprove hfm so gently as Jeho.shaphat did Ahab, " Let not the king say so," doth usually as nmch harm as good, 1 Sam. xxiii.; 1 Kings xxii. 8. I am persuaded the very manner of some men's reproof and exhortation hath hardened many a sinner in the way of destruction. To tell them of sin, or of heaven, or hell, in a dull, easy, careless language, doth make men think you are not in good sadness, nor do mean as you speak ; but either you scarce think yourselves such things arc true, or else you take them in such a slight and indifferent manner. O sirs, deal with sin as sin, and speak of heaven and hell as they are, and not as if you were in jest. I confess, I have failed much in this

myself; the Lord lay it not to my charge. Lothness to displease men, makes us undo them.

Sect. IX. 6. Yet, lest you run into extremes, I advise you to do it with prudence and discretion. Be as serious as you can ; but yet with wisdom. And especially, you must be wise in these things following :

1. In choosing the fittest season for your exhortation, not to deal with men when they are in passion, or drink, or in public where they will take it for a disgrace. Men should observe when sinners are fittest to hear instructions. Physic must not be given at all times, but in season. Opportunity advantageth every work. It is an excellent example that Paul giveth us, Gal. ii. 2. He com-municateth the gospel to them, yet privately to them of reputation, lest he should run in vain. Some men would take this to be a sinful complying with their corruption, to yield so far to their pride and bashfulness, as to teach them only in private, because they would be ashamed to own the truth in public. But Paul knew how great a hinderance men's reputation is to their entertaining of the truth, and that the remedy must not only be fitted to the disease, but also to the strength of the patient; and that in so doing, the physician is not guilty of favouring the disease, but is praiseworthy for taking the right way to cure it; and that learners and young beginners must not be dealt with as open professors. Moreover, means will work easily if you take the opportunity ; when the earth is soft, the plough will enter. Take a man when he is under affliction, or in the house of mourning, or newly stirred by som6 moving sermon, and then set it home, and you may do him good. Christian faithfulness doth require us, not only to do good when it falls in our way, but to watch for opportunities for doing good.

2. Be wise also in suiting your exhortation to the quality and temper of the person. All meats are not for all stomachs: one man will vomit that up again in your face, which another will digest. 1. If it be a learned, or ingenious, rational man, you must deal more by convincing arguments, and less by passionate persuasions. 2. If it be one that is both ignorant and stupid, there is need of both. 3. If one that is convinced, but yet is not converted, you must use most those means that rouse up the affections.

4. If they be obstinate and secure, you must reprove them sharply.

5. If they be of timorous, tender natures, and apt to dejections or distractions, they must be tenderly dealt with. All cannot bear that rough dealing as some can. Love, and plainness, and seriousness, take with all; but words of terror some can scarce bear. This is (as we say of stronger physic, lieUehore, colloquintida, 8fC. nee 2)tiero, nee sent, nee imhccillo, sed rohusto, 8fcJ not fit for every complexion and state.

3. You must be wise also in using the aptest expressions. Many a minister doth deliver most excellent, necessary matter in such unsavoury, harsh, and uiiseeniing language, that it makes the hearers loathe the food that they should live by, and laugh at a

sermon that might make them quake : especially if ihey be men of curious ears and carnal hearts, and have more conunon wit and parts than the speaker. And so it is in private exhortation as well as public : if you clothe the most amiable, beautiful truth in the sordid rags of unbeseeming language, you will make men disdain it as monstrous and deformed, though it be the oll'spring of God, and of the highest nature.

Sect. X, 7, Let all your reproofs and exhortations be backed with the authority of God. Let the sinner be convinced that you speak not from yourselves, or of your own head. Show them the very words of Scripture for what you say. Turn them to the very chapter and verse where the sin is condenmed and where the duty is commanded. Press them with the truth and authority of God. Ask them whether they believe that this is his word, and that his word is true. So much of God as appeareth in our words, so much will they take. The voice of man is contemptible, but the voice of God is awful and terrible. They can and may reject your words, they cannot nor dare reject the words of the Almighty. Be sure, therefore, to make them know that you speak nothing but what God hath spoken first.

Sect. XI. 8. You must also be frequent with men in this duty of exhortation ; it is not once or twice that usually will prevail. If God himself must be constantly solicited, as if importunity could prevail with him when nothing else can, and therefore requires us always to pray, and not to w^ax faint, the same course, no dou])t, • will be most prevailing with men. Therefore, we are commanded *' to exhort one another daily, and with all long-suffering." As liipsius saith, " The fire is not always brought out of the flint at one stroke ; nor men's affections kindled at the first exhortation." And if they were, yet if they be not followed, they will soon grow cold again. Weary out sinners with your loving and earnest entreaties ; follow them, and give them no rest in their sin. This is true charity, and this is the way to save men's souls; and a course that will aiford you comfort upon review.

Sect. XH. 9. Strive to bring all your exhortation to an issue; stick not in the work done, but look after the success, and aim at the end in all your speeches. I have long observed it in ministers and private men, that if they speak never so convincing and powerful words, and yet their hearts do not long after the success of them with the hearers, but all their care is over when they have done their speech, pretending that having done their duty, they leave the issue to God, these men do seldom prosper in their labours; but those whose very heart is set upon the work, and that long to see it take for the hearer's conversion, and use to inquire how it speeds, God usually blesseth their labours, though more weak. Labour, therefore, to drive all your speeches to the desired issue. If you are reproving a sin, cease not till (if it may be) you have got the sinner to promise you to leave it, and to avoid the occasions of it: if you are exhorting to a duty, urge the party to promise you presently to set upon it. If you would draw them to Christ, leave

not till you have made them confess tliat their present unregenerate state is miserahlc, and not to be rested in ; and till they have subscribed to the necessity of Christ, and of a change, and till they have promised you to fall close to the use of means. Oh that all Christians would be persuaded to take this course with all their neighbours that are yet in the flesh, that are enslaved to sin, and strangers to Christ!

Sect. XIII. 10. Lastly, Be sure that your examples may exhort as well as your words.* Let them see you constant in all the duties that you persuade them to : let them see in your lives that dilference from sinners, and that excellency above the world, which you persuade them to in your speeches. Let them see by your constant labours for heaven, that you do indeed believe that which you would have them to believe. If you tell others of the admirable joys of heaven, and yourselves cIo nothing but drudge for the world, and are as much taken up in striving to be rich, or as quarrelsome with your neighbours in a case of commodity, as any others, who will then believe you ; or who will be persuaded by you to seek the everlasting riches ? Will they not rather think, that you persuade them to look after another- world, and to neglect this, that so you might have the more of it to yourself.^ Let not men see you proud, while you exhort them to be humble ; nor to have a soared conscience in one thing, while you would have theirs tender in another. An innocent life is a continual pov/erful reproof to the wicked; and the constant practice of a holy and heavenly life is a constant disquietment to the conscience of a worldling, and a constant solicitation of him to change his course.

And thus I have opened to you the first and great part of this duty, consisting in private, familiar exhortation, for the helping of poor souls to this rest, that are out of the way, and have yet no title to it; and I have showed you also the manner how to perform it that you may succeed. I will now speak a little of the next part.

Sect. XIV. Besides the duty of private admonition, you must do your utmost endeavours to help men to profit by the public ordinances. And to that end you must do these things. First, Do your endeavours for the procuring of faithful ministers, where they are wanting. This is God's ordinary means of converting and saving. How shall they hear without a preacher ? Not only for your own sakes therefore, but for the poor miserable ones about you, do all you can to bring this to pass. If the gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost. Where vision faileth, the people perish. Improve, therefore, all your interest and diligence to this end. Ride, and go, and seek, and make friends, till you do prevail ; if means be wanting to maintain a minister, extend your purses to the utmost, rather than the means of men's salvation should be wanting. Who knoweth how many souls may bless you,

* Nee sic inflectere sensus humanos edicta valcnt quam vita regentis. Primus jussa Rubi; tunc obscrvantior sequi. Fit populus. Loripidem rectus derideat, ^thiopom albus. Quis tulerit Gracclius de seditione qucrentesi Si fur displiceat Vcrri, honiioida Miloni, &c. Si quis opprobriis dignum latiaverit integer ipse, &c.

who have boon converted and saved by the ministry which you have procured { It is a higher and nobler work of charity, than it" you gave all that you have to relieve their bodies : though both nuist be regarded, yet the soul in the first place. What abundance of good might great men do in this, if they were faithful improvers of their interests and estates, as men that believe God hath the chief interest, and will shortly call them to an account for their stewardship ! ^^'hat unhappy reformers hath the church still met withal, that instead of taking away the corruptions in the church, do diminish that nuiintenance which should further the work ! If our ignorant forefathers gave it for the service of the church, and their more knowing posterity do take it away, without the least pretence of right to it; I doubt not but the pious intent of progenitors will more extenuate the fault of their ignorance, than the knowledge of their posterity will excuse their sacrilege. Alas, that the sad example of King Henry the Eighth's reformation, and the almost miraculous consumption of the estates of the impropriators, and the many hundred congregations that live in woeful darkness for want of maintenance for a ministry, should yet be no more effectual a warning to this age ! If they take away most, and give l)ack a little, we are beholden to their bounty. If a corrupt officer lose his interest, the church doth not lose hers. Here is a great talk of reducing the church to the primitive pattern : if so, I dare affirm that every church must have many ministers. And they that know wherein the work of the ministry doth consist, will no more wonder at that, than that a regiment of soldiers should have many officers. And how will that be, when they will scarcely aiford nuiintenance for one i* They are likelier to bring the church to the primitive poverty, than to the primitive pattern. If I were not known to be quite beyond their exceptions myself, I might not say so much, lest 1 were thought to plead my own interest ; especially a dying man should be out of the reach of such accusations. But the Lord knoweth that it is not a desire that ministers should be rich, that maketh me speak this; but earnest desire of the happiness of the church; nor do I mean the ministry only by the word " church." It is the people that are robbed and bear the loss, more than the ministers : ministers must and will

* To make up that number of ministers that the churcli should have, now the maintenance is taken aAvaj, 1 would ricli men would study and enter into the ministry who can maintain themselves, and so do the work freely. Let them know to their faces, that it is a work that the greatest lord in the land is not too good for. See what Hierom saith ad Damasum : Clericos illos convenit ecclesiaj stipendiis sustentari, quibus paren-tum et amicorum nulla sufFragantur stipeudia. Qui autem bonis parentum ct opibus sustineri possunt, si quod pauperum est, accipiunt, sacrilegium profecto incuiTunt, et committunt. And, besides, it would bear up the credit of the office, and take off much prejudice from the people. But our .gentlemen generally have their pleasure, wealth, and honour, in such high esteem, and Christ and his gospel and church in such dis-estecm, that they would take it for a disgrace to turn ministers, or to fit and devote themselves or children to it, and so to serve Ciirist freely. AVhere is the gentleman in England that hath done thus"? They will rail at ministers for covetousness, because they will not serve at the altar, and not live on the altar, who have no other maintenance ; but when will themselves that have more, devote themselves freely to this work 'J Will they not rather increase their great estates with robbing God ■?

have maintenance, or else men will set their children to other studies; when there is no other, the people mnst allow it themselves, or be without. What minister can well oversee and watch over more than a thousand souls ? Nor I think so many. Many congregations have four thousand, ten thousand, twenty thousand, some fifty thousand, yea, seventy thousand. How many officers will the state maintain in an army of thirty thousand ? I had almost said, the work of governing the church is greater, and hath need of as many. I w^ould all Scripture and primitive patterns wisre well viewed in this. O happy reformation, if able godly men were put in places, or in right offices, without such diminution of the number or the maintenance ! Or if a supply at present could not be had, yet should they not have overthrown the hopes of posterity. But to leave this digression, I hope those that God hath called to this work, will labour, nevertheless, for the shortness of their maintenance : and those of the people that can do no more, can yet pray the Lord of the harvest that he would send forth labourers. And he that hath put that petition into our mouths, I hope will put the answer into our hands.

Sect. XV. 2. Yet it is not enough that you seek after teachers, but especially you must seek after such as are fitted for the work. An ignorant empiric that killeth more than he cureth, doth not so much differ from an able physician, as an unskilful minister from one that is able. Alas ; this is the great defect among us : men that are fitted for the work indeed, are most wonders; one, or two, or three, or four in some counties is much. How few that have dived into the mysteries of divinity; or have thoroughly studied the most needful controversies ; or are able to explain or maintain the truth ! But only they store their memories with the opinions and phrases of those teachers that are in most credit, in common cases ; and then they think they are divines : and every man that steps out of their common road, they can say that he is erroneous or heretical; but how to confute him they cannot tell. And almost as few that are well skilled in managing known truths upon the conscience. Alas! whence cometh this misery to the church? There is not a choice made of the most excellent wits, and those youths that are ripest in learning and religion: but some of them are so rich, that the ministry is too mean for them ; and some so poor, that they have no maintenance to subsist on at the universities. And so every one that is best furnished to make a trade of the ministry, or whose parents have best affection to it, how unfit soever the child is, must be a minister: and those few, very few, choice wits that would be fittest, are diverted.

How small a matter were it, and yet how excellent a work, for every knight or gentleman of means in England, to cull out some one or two, or more, poor l^oys in the country schools, who are of the choicest wits and most pious dispositions, who are poor and unable to proceed in learning, and to maintain them a few years in the universities, till they were fit for the ministry! It were but keeping a few superfluous attendants the less, or a few horses or

(logs the less: if thoy lunl hoarts to it, it worn easily spared out of their sports, or rich apparel, or superfluous diet ; or, what if it were out of more useful costs, or out of their children's larger portions ? 1 dare say they would not be sorry for it when they come to their reckoning. One sumptuous feast, or one costly suit of apparel, would maintain a poor boy a year or two at the university, who, perhaps, might come to have more true worth in him than many a glittering, sensual lord, and to do God more service in his church than ever they did with all their estates and power.

Sect. XVI. 3. And when you do enjoy the blessing of the gospel, you nmst yet use your utmost diligence to help poor souls to receive the fruit of it. To which end you must draw them constantly to hear and attend it. Mind them often of what they have heard ; draw them, if it be possible, to repeat it in their families. If that cannot be, then draw them to come to others that do repeat it, that so it may not die in the hearing. The very drawing of men into the company and acquaintance of the godly, besides the benefit they have by their endeavours, is of singular use to the recovery of their souls. Association breedeth familiarity, and familiarity breed-eth love ; and familiarity and love to the godly, doth lead to familiarity and love to God and godliness. It is also a means to take off prejudice, by confuting the world's slanders of the ways and people of God. Use, therefore, often to meet together, besides the more public meeting in the congregation : not to vent any unsound opinions, nor yet in distaste of the public meeting, nor in opposition to it, nor at the time of public worship, nor yet to make a groundless schism, or to separate from the church whereof you are members ; nor to destroy the old that you may gather a new church out of its ruins, as long as it hath the essentials, and there is hope of reforming it; nor yet would I have you forward to vent your own supposed gifts and parts in teaching, where there is no necessity of it; nor to attempt that in the interpretation of difficult scriptures, or explication of difficult controversies, which is beyond your ability, though, perhaps, pride will tell you that you are as able as any. But the work which I would have you meet about, is this, to repeat together the word which you have heard in public ; to pour out your joint prayers for the church and yourselves; to join in cheerful singing the praises of God ; to open your scruples, and doubts, and fears, and get resolution ; to quicken each other in love, and hea-venliness, and holy walking : and all this, not as a separated church, but as a part of the church more diligent than the rest in redeeming time, and helping the souls of each other heavenward.

I know some careless ones think this course needless ; and I know some formalists do think it schismatical, who have nothing of any moment to say against it. Against both these, if I durst so far digress, I could easily prove it warrantable and useful. I know also that many of late do abuse private meetings to schism, and to vilify God's ordinances, and vent the windy issue of their empty brains. But betwixt these extremes, I advise you to walk, and neither to " forsake the assembling of yourselves together, as the

manner of some is, but exhort one another," Heb. x. 25. Nor yet to be " carried about with divers and strange doctrines :" but let all your private meetings be in subordination to the public, and by the approbation and consent of your spiritual guides, and not without them of your own heads, where such guides are men of knowledge and godliness; remembering them which have the rule over you, which speak to you the word of God, following their faith, and as men whose hearts are stablished with grace, considering the whole end of a Christian's conversation, Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever, Heb, xiii. 7—9, 17. " And I beseech you, brethren, mark them which cause divisions and offences, contrary to the doctrine which you have learned, and avoid them : for they that are such, serve not our Lord Jesus Christ, but their own belly, and by good words and fair speeches deceive the hearts of the simple," Rom. xvi. 17, 18. I would you would ponder every one of these words, for they are the precious advice of the Spirit of God, and necessary now, as well as then.

4. Keep ordinances ^^ct. XVII. 4. One thing more I advise you and ministry in concerning tliis. If you would have souls converted

^'^^'■'°^^ and saved by the ordinances, labour still to keep the

ordinances and ministry in esteem. No man will be much wrought on by that which he despiseth. The great causes of this contempt are, a perverted judgment, and a graceless heart. It is no more wonder for a soul to loathe the ordinances, that savoureth not their spiritual nature, nor seeth God in them, nor is thoroughly wrought on by them, than it is for a sick man to loathe his food. Nor is it any wonder for a perverted understanding to make a jest of God himself, much less to set light by his ordinances. Oh ! what a rare blessing is a clear, sound, sanctified judgment! Where this is wanting, the most hellish vice may seem a virtue, and the most sacred ordinance of Divine institution may seem as the waters of Jordan to Naaman. If any enemies to God's ordinances assault you, I refer you to the reading of Mr. Henry Lawrence's late book for ordinances.

The profane scorners of the ministry and worship heretofore, were the means of keeping many a soul from heaven; but the late generation of proud, ignorant sectaries amongst us, have quite outstripped in this the vile persecutors. Oh how many souls may curse these wretches in hell for ever, that have by them been brought to contemn the means that should save them ! By many years' experience in my conversing with these men, I can speak it knowingly, that the chiefest of their zeal is let out against the faithful ministers of Christ. He is the ablest of their preachers that can rail at them in the most devilish language. It is their most common discourse in all companies, both godly and profane, to vilify the ministry, and make them odious to all, partly by slanders, and partly by scorns. Is this the way to win souls ? Whereas, formerly, they thought that if a man were won to a love of the ministry and ordinances, he was in a hopeful way of being won to God. Now these men are diligent to bring all men to scorn them, as if this were all that were neces-

sary to the saving of their souls, and he only shall he happy that can deride at ministers and discipline. If any man doubt of the truth of what I say, he is a stranger in lOngland, and for his satisfaction, let him read all the books of Martin Mar-priest, and tell me whether the devil ever spoke so with a tongue of flesh before. For you, my dear friends, I acknowledge to God's praise, that you are as far from the contempt of ordinances or ministry, as any people I know in the land. I shall confirm you herein, not in my own words, but in his that I know you dare not disregard : 1 Thess. V. 11—13, " Wherefore comfort yourselves together, and edify one another, even as ye also do. And we beseech you, brethren, to know them w hich labour among you, and are over you in the Lord, and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love for their work's sake, and be at peace among yourselves." " Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves; for they watch for your souls, as those that must give an account, that they may do it with joy, and not with grief: for that is unprofitable for you," Heb. xiii. 17.

Thus you see part of your duty for the salvation of others.

Sect. XVIII. And now. Christian reader, seeing it is a duty that God hath laid upon every man according to his ability, thus to exhort and reprove, and with all possible diligence to labour after the salvation of all about him, judge then whether this work be con-scionably performed. Where shall we find the man almost among us, that setteth himself to it with all his might, and that hath set his heart upon the souls of his brethren, that they may be saved ?

Let us here, therefore, a little inquire what may be the causes of the gross neglect of this duty, that the hinderances being discovered may the more easily be overcome.

1. One hinderance is, men's own gracelessness and guiltiness. They have not been ravished themselves with the heavenly delights. How, then, should they draw others so earnestly to seek them :" They have not felt the wickedness of their own natures, nor their lost condition, nor their need of Christ, nor felt the transforming, renewing work of the Spirit. How, then, can they discover these to others ? Ah ! that this were not the case of many a learned preacher in England! and the cause why they preach so frozenly and generally ! Men also are guilty themselves of the sins they should reprove, and this stops their mouth, and maketh them ashamed to reprove.

2. Another hinderance is, a secret infidelity prevailing in men's hearts; whereof even the best have so great a measure, that it causeth this duty to be done by the halves. Alas ! sirs, we do not, sure, believe men's misery ; we do not believe, sure, that the threat-enings of God are true. Did we verily believe that all the unre-generate and unholy shall be eternally tormented, as God hath said, oh, how could we hold our tongues when we are among the unre-generate ? How could we choose but burst out into tears when we look them in the face, as the prophet did when he looked upon Hazael ? especially when they arc our kindred or friends, that are

near and clear to us ? Thus doth secret unbelief of the truth of Scripture consume the vigour of each grace and duty. O Christians, if you did verily believe that your poor, carnal, ungodly neighbour, or wife, or husband, or child, should certainly lie for ever in the flames of hell, except they be thoroughly recovered and changed, and that quickly, before death doth snatch them from hence, would not this make you cast otf all discouragements, and lay at them day and night till they were persuaded, and give them no rest in their carnal state ? How could you hold your tongue, or let them alone another day, if this were soundly believed ? if you were sure that any of your dear friends, that are dead, were now in hell, and persuading to repentance would get him out again, would not you persuade him day and night, if he were in hearing ? And why should you not do as much then to prevent it, while he is in your hearing, but that you do not believe God's word that speaks the danger ? Why did Noah prepare an ark so long before, and persuade the world to save themselves, but because he believed God, that the flood should come ? And, therefore, saith the Holy Ghost, " By faith Noah prepared the ark," Heb. xi. 7. And why did not the world hearken to his persuasion, and seek to save themselves as well as Noah, but because they did not believe there would be any such deluge ? They see all fair and well, and therefore they thought that threatenings were but wind. The rich man in hell cries out, " Send to my brethren to warn them, that they come not to this place of torment," Luke xvi. 28 : he ielt it, and therefore, being convinced of its truth, would have them prevent it; but his brethren on earth, they did not see and feel as he, and therefore they did not believe, nor would have been persuaded, " though one had risen from the dead." I am afraid most of us do believe the predictions of Scripture but as we believe the predictions of an almanac, which telleth you that such a day will be rain, and such a day wind; you think it may come to pass, and it may not: and so you think of the predictions of the damnation of the wicked. Oh! were it not for this cursed unbelief, our own souls, and our neighbours', would gain more by us than they do.

3. This faithful dealing with men for their salvation, is much hindered also by our want of charity and compassion to men's souls. We are hard-hearted and cruel towards the miserable ; and therefore, as the priest and the Levite did by the wounded man, we look on them, and pass by. Oh ! what tender heart could endure to look upon a poor, blind, forlorn sinner, wounded by sin, and captivated by Satan, and never once open our mouths for his i-ecovery ? What though he be silent, and do not desire thy help himself, yet his very misery cries aloud: misery is the most effectual suitor to one that is compassionate. If God had not heard the cry of our miseries before he heard the cry of our prayers, and been moved by his own pity, before he was moved by our importunity, we might have long enough continued the slaves of Satan. Is it not the strongest way of arguing that a poor Lazarus hath, to unlap his sores, and show them the passengers ? All his words will

Chap. Xlll. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING KEST. .10;3

not move them so much as such a pitiful sight. Alas ! what pitiful sights do Nvo daily sec! the ignorant, the profane, the neglect(>rs of Christ and their souls ; their sores are open and visible to all that, know them, and yet do we not pity them ! You will pray to God for thom, in customary duties, that God would open the eyes and turn the hearts of your ignorant, carnal friends and neighbours. And why do you not endeavour their conversion, if you desire it!" And if you do not desire it, why do you ask it ? Doth not your negligence convince you of hypocrisy in your prayers, and of abusing the high God with your deceitful words ? Your neighbours are near you, your friends are in the house with you ; you eat, and drink, and work, and walk, and talk with them, and yet you say little or nothing to them. Why do you not prav them to consider and return, as well as pray God to convert and mrn them ? Have you as oft and as earnestly begged of them to think on their ways, and to reform, as you have taken on you to beg of God that they may so do ? What if you should see your neighbour fallen into a pit, and you should presently fall down on your knees, and pray God to help him out, but would neither put forth your hand to help, nor once persuade or direct him to help himself, would not any man censure you to be cruel and hypocritical ? What the Holy Ghost saith of men's bodily miseries, I may say much more of the misery of their souls : " If any man seeth his brother in need, and shutteth up his compassion from him, how dw'elleth the love of God in him ?" 1 John iii. 17. Or, what love hath he to his brother's soul ? Sure, if you saw your friend in hell, you would persuade him hard to come thence, if that would serve ; and why do you not now persuade him to prevent it ? The charity of our ignorant forefathers may rise up in judgment against us, and condemn us. They would give all their estates almost, for so many masses, or pardons, to deliver the souls of their friends from a feigned purgatory, and we will not so much as importunately admonish and entreat them, to save them from the certain flames of hell; though this may be effectual to do them good, and the other wull do none.

4. Another hinderance is, a base, man-pleasing disposition that is in us. W^e are so loth to displease men, and so desirous to keep in credit and favour with them, that it makes us most unconscionably neglect our known duty. A foolish physician he is, and a most unfaithful friend, that will let a sick man die for fear of troubling him ; and cruel wretches are we to our friends, that will rather suffer them to go quietly to hell, than we will anger them, or hazard our reputation with them. If they did but fall in a swoon, we would rub them and pinch them, and never stick at hurting them. If they were distracted we would bind them with chains, and we would please them in nothing that tended to their hurt ; and yet, when they are beside themselves in point of salvation, and in their madness posting on to damnation, we will not stop them, for fear of displeasing them. How can these men be Christians, that love the praise and favour of men more than the favour of God ? John xii. 43. For if they yet seek to please men, they are no longer the 2 D 2

servants of Christ, Gal. i. 10. To win them indeed, they must become all things to all men; but to please them to their destruction, and let them perish, that we may keep our credit with them, is a course so base and barbarously cruel, that he that hath the face of a Christian should abhor it, 1 Cor. ix. 20—24; Prov. xi. 36.

5. Another common hinderance is, a sinful bashfulness. When we should labour to make men ashamed of their sins, we are ourselves ashamed of our duties. May not these sinners condemn us, when they will not blush to swear, or be drunk, or neglect the v/orship of God, and we will blush to tell them of it, and persuade them from it ? Elisha looked on Hazael till he was ashamed ; and we are ashamed to look on, or speak to the oiFender, 2 Kings viii. 11; Jer. vi. 15; viii. 12; Luke ix. 26. Sinners will rather boast of their sins, and impudently show them in the open streets, and shall not we be as bold in drawing them from it ? Not that I approve of impudence in any; for, as one saith, I take him for a lost man that hath lost his modesty. Nor would I have inferiors forget their distance in admonishing their superiors; but do it with all humility, and submission, and respect. But yet I would much less have them forget their duty to God and their friends, be they never so much their superiors : it is a thing that must be done. Bash-fulness is unseemly in cases of flat necessity. And, indeed, it is not a work to be ashamed of; to obey God in persuading men from their sins to Christ, and helping to save their souls, is not a business for a man to blush at; and yet, alas! what abundance of souls have been neglected through the prevailing of this sin! even the most of us are heinously guilty in this point. Reader, is not this thy own case ? Hath not thy conscience told thee of thy duty many a time, and put thee on to speak to poor sinners, lest they perish, and yet thou hast been ashamed to open thy mouth to them, and so let them alone to sink or swim ? believe me, thou wilt ere long be ashamed of this shame. O read those words of Christ, and tremble : " He that is ashamed of me and of my words before this adulterous generation, of him will the Son of man be ashamed before his Father and the angels," Luke ix. 26; Mark viii. 38.

6. Another hinderance is, impatiency, laziness, and favouring of the flesh. It is an ungrateful work, and for the most part maketh those our enemies that were our friends ; and men cannot bear the reproaches and unthankful returns of sinners. It may be they are their chief friends, on whom is all their dependence, so that it may be their undoing to displease them. Besides, it is a work that seldom succeedeth at the first, except it be followed on with wisdom and unweariedness. You must be a great while teaching an ignorant person, before he will be brought to know the very fundamentals ; and a great while persuading an obstinate sinner, before he will come to a full resolution to return. Now, this is a tedious course to the flesh, and few will bear it. Not considering what patience God used towards us when we were in our sins, and how long he followed us with the importunities of his Spirit, holding

out Christ and life, and beseeching us to accept them. Woe to us if God had been as impatient with us as we are with others ! If Christ be not weary, nor give over to invite them, we have little reason to be weary of doing the message. See 2 Tim. ii. 24, 2.5.

7. Another hinderance is, self-seeking and self-minding. Men are all for themselves, and all mind their own things, but few the things of Christ and their brethren. Hence is that Cainish voice, " Am I my brother's keeper?" Every man must answer for himself. Hence also it is that a multitude of ignorant professors do think only where they may enjoy the purest ordinances, and tliither they will go over sea and land ; or what way of discipline will be sweetest to themselves, and therefore are prone to groundless separation : but where they have the fairest opportunity to win the souls of others, or in what place or way they may do most good, these things they little or nothing regard, as if we had learned of the monks, and were setting up their principles and practice when we seem to oppose them.

If these men had tried what some of their brethren have done, they would know that all the purest ordinances and churches will not afford that solid comfort, as the converting of a few sinners by our unwearied, compassionate exhortations. Two men in a frosty season come where a company of people are ready to starve ; the one of them laps himself, and taketh shelter, for fear lest he should perish with them ; the other, in pity, falls to rub them that he may recover heat in them, and while he laboureth hard to help them, he getteth far better heat to himself than his unprofitable companion doth.

8. With many, also, pride is a great impediment. If it were to speak to a great man, they would do it, so it would not displease him. But to go among the poor multitude, and to take pains with a company of ignorant beggars, or mean persons, and to sit with them in a smoky, nasty cottage, and there to instruct them and exhort them from day to day, where is the person almost that will do it? Many will much rejoice if they have been instruments of converting a gentleman, (and they have good cause,) but for the common multitude, they look not after them : as if God were a respecter of the persons of the rich, or the souls of all were not alike to him. Alas ! these men little consider how long Christ did stoop to us! When the God of glory comes down in flesh, to worms, and goeth preaching up and down among them from city to city ! Not the silliest woman that he thought too low to confer with. Few rich, and noble, and wise, are called. It is the poor that receive the glad tidings of the gospel, John iv. and 1 Cor. i. 26.

9. Lastly ; With some also their ignorance of the duty doth hinder them from performing it. Either they know it not to be a duty, or at least not to be their duty. Perhaps they have not considered much of it, nor been pressed to it by their teachers, as they have been to hearing, and praying, and other duties. If this be thy case who readest this, that mere ignorance or inconsiderate-

ness hath kept thee from it, then 1 am in hope now thou art acquainted with thy duty, thou wilt set upon it.

Object. 1. O but, saith one, I am of so weak parts and gifts, that I am unable to manage an exhortation, especially to men of strong natural parts and understanding.

Ansiv. First, Set those upon the work who are more able. Secondly, Yet do not think that thou art so excused thyself, but use faithfully that ability which thou hast, not in teaching those of whom thou shouldst learn, but in instructing those who are more ignorant than thyself, and in exhorting those who are negligent in the things which they do know, If you cannot speak well yourself, yet you can tell them what God speaketh in his word. It is not the excellency of speech that winneth souls, but the authority of God manifested by that speech, and the power of his word in the mouth of the instructor. A weak woman may tell what God saith in the plain passages of the word, as well as a learned man. If you cannot preach to them, yet you can turn to the place in your Bible, or at least remember them of it, and say, " Thus it is written." One of mean parts may remember the wisest of their duty when they forget it. David received seasonable advice from Abigail, a woman. When a man's eyes are blinded with passion, or the deceits of the world, or the lusts of the flesh, a weak instructor may prove very profitable ; for in that case he hath as much need to hear of what he knoweth, as of what he doth not know.

Object. 2. It is my superior that needeth my advice and exhortation ; and is it fit for me to teach or reprove my betters ? Must the wife teach the husband, of whom the Scripture biddeth them learn ? Or must the child teach the parents, whose duty it is to teach them ?

Anstv. First, It is fit that husbands should be able to teach their wives, and parents to teach their children; and God expecteth they should be so, and therefore commandeth the inferiors to learn^ of them. But if they through their own negligence do disable* themselves, or through their own wickedness do bring their souls into such misery, as that they have the greatest need of advice and reproof themselves, and are objects of pity to all that know their case; then it is themselves, and not you, that break God's order, by bringing themselves into disability and misery.

Matter of mere order and manners must be dispensed with in cases of flat necessity. Though it were your minister, you must teach him in such a case. It is the part of parents to provide for their children, and not children for their parents; and yet if the parents fall into want, must not the children relieve them ? It is the part of the husband to dispose of the affairs of the family and estate J and yet, if he be sick or beside himself, must not the wife do it ? The rich should relieve the poor; but if the rich fall into beggary, they must be relieved themselves. It is the work of the physician to look to the health of others; and yet, if he fall sick, somebody must help him, and look to him. So must the meanest servant admonish his master, and the child his parent, and

the wife her husband, and the people their ministers, in cases of necessity.

Secondly, Yet let me give you these two cautions here.

1. That you do not pretend necessity when there is none, out of a mere desire of teaching. I'here is scarce a more certain discovery of a proud heart, than to be forwarder and more desirous to teach than to learn, especially toward those that are fitter to teach us.

2. And when the necessity of your superiors doth call for your advice, yet do it with all possible humility, and modesty, and meekness. Let them discern your reverence and submission to their superiority in the humble manner of your addresses to them. Let them perceive that you do it not out of a mere teaching humour, or proud self-conceitedness. An elder must be admonished, but not rebuked. If a wife should tell her husband of his sin in a masterly, railing language; or if a servant reprove his master, or a child his father, 1 Tim. v. 1, in a saucy, disrespectful way; what good could be expected from such reproof ? But if they should meekly and humbly open to him his sin and danger, and entreat him to bear with them in what God commandeth, and his misery re-quireth; and if they could by tears testify their sense of his case; what father, or master, or husband could take this ill ?

Object. 3. But some may say, This will make us all preachers, and cause all to break over the bounds of their callings ; every boy and woman then will turn preacher.

Aitsw. 1. This is not taking a pastoral charge of souls, nor making an office or calling of it, as preachers do.

2. And in the way of our callings, every good Christian is a teacher, and hath a charge of his neighbour's soul. Let it be only the voice of a Cain to say, " Am I my brother's keeper ?" I would have one of these men, that are so loth that private men should teach them, to tell me, what if a man fall down in a swoon in the streets, though it be your father or superior, would you not take him up presently, and use all means you could to recover him ? or would you let him lie and die, and say. It is the work of the physician, and not mine ; I will not invade the physician's calling. In two cases, every man is a physician. First, in case of necessity, and when a physician cannot be had. And secondly, in case the hurt be so small, that every man can do as well as the physician. And in the same two cases, every man must be a teacher.

Object. 4. Some will further object, to put off this duty, that the party is so ignorant, or stupid, or careless, or rooted in sin, and hath been so oft exhorted in vain, and there is no hope.

Answ. How know you when there is no hope ? Cannot God yet cure him ? And must it not be by means ? And have not many as far gone been cured ? Should not a merciful physician use means while there is life ? And is it not inhuman cruelty in you to give up your friend to the devil and damnation as hopeless, upon mere backwardness to your duty, or upon groundless discourage-

ments ? What if you had been so given up yourself when you were ignorant ?

Object. 5. But we must not cast pearls before swine, nor give that which is holy to dogs.

Answ. That is but a favourable dispensation of Christ for your own safety. When you are in danger to be torn in pieces, Christ would have you forbear; but what is that to you that are in no such danger ? As long as they will hear, you have encouragement to speak, and may not cast them off as contemptuous swine.

Object. 6, O, but it is a friend that I have all my dependence on, and by telling him of his sin and misery, I may lose his love, and so be undone.

Answ. Sure no man that hath the face of a Christian, will for shame own such an objection as this. Yet, I doubt, it oft prevail-eth in the heart. Is his love more to be valued than his safety ? or thy own benefit by him, than the salvation of his soul ? Or wilt thou connive at his damnation, because he is thy friend ? Is that thy best requital of his friendship ? Hadst thou rather he should burn for ever in hell, than thou shouldst lose his favour, or the maintenance thou hast from him ?

Object. 7. But I hope, though he be not regenerate and holy, that he is in no such danger.

Answ. Nay, then, if thou be one that dost not believe God's word, I have no more to say to thee, John iii.; Heb. xii. 14. I told you before that this unbelief was the root of all.

Sect. XVIII. To conclude this use, that I may prevail with every soul that feareth God, to use their utmost diligence to help all about them to this blessed rest which they hope for themselves, let me entreat you to consider of these following motives :

1, Consider, Nature teacheth the communicating of good, and grace doth especially dispose the soul thereunto; the neglect, therefore, of this work, is a sin both against nature and grace. He that should never seek after God himself, would quickly be concluded graceless by all: and is not he as certainly graceless that doth not labour for the salvation of others, when we are bound to love our neighbour as ourself ? Would you not think that man or woman unnatural, that would let their own children or neighbours famish in the streets, while they have provision at hand ? And is not he more unnatural, that will let his children or neighbours perish eternally, and will not open his mouth to save them ? Certainly, this is most barbarous cruelty. Pity to the miserable is so natural, that we account an unmerciful, cruel man a very monster, to be abhorred of all. Many vicious men are too much loved in the world, but a cruel man is abhorred of all. Now, that it may appear to you what a cruel thing this neglect of souls is, do but consider of these two things. First, How great a work it is. Secondly, And how small a matter it is that thou refusest to do for the accomplishing so great a work. First, It is to save thy brother from eternal flames, that he may not there lie roaring in endless, reme-

(liloss tonuents. It is to bring him to the everlrt.sting rest, where he may live in unconceivable happiness with God. Secondly, And what is it that you should do to help him herein!' Why, it is to teach him, and persuade him, and lay open to him his sin and his duty, his misery and the remedy, till you have made him willing to yield to the offers and commands of Christ. And is this so great a matter for to do, to the attaining of such a blessed end .'' If God had bid you give them all your estates to win them, or lay down your lives to save them, sure you would have refused, when you will not bestow a little breath to save them ? Is not the soul of a husband, or wife, or child, or neighbour, worth a few words? It is worth this, or it is worth nothing. If they did lie dying in the streets, and a few words would save their lives, would not every man say, that he were a cruel wretch that would let them perish, rather than speak to them ? Even the covetous hypocrite, that James reproveth, would give a few words to the poor, and say. Go and be warmed, and be clothed. What a barbarous, unmerciful wretch, then, art thou, that wilt not vouchsafe a few^ words of serious, sober admonition, to save the soul of thy neighbour or friend ? Cruelty and unmercifulness to men's bodies, is a most damnable sin, but to their souls much more, as the soul is of greater worth than the body, and as eternity is of greater moment than this short time. Alas ! you do not see or feel what case their souls are in, when they are in hell, for want of your faithful admonition. Little know you what many a soul may now be feeling, who have been your neighbours and acquaintance, and died in their sins, on whom you never bestowed one hour's sober advice for the preventing of their unhappiness. If you did know their misery, you would now do more to bring them out of hell. But, alas ! it is too late; you should have done it while they were with you; it is now too late. As one said in reproach of physicians, " That they were the most happy men, because all their good deeds and cures w^ere seen above-ground to their praise, but all their mistakes and neglects were buried out of sight."* So I may say to you. Many a neglect of yours to the souls about you, may be now buried w'ith those souls in hell, out of your sight and hearing, and therefore now^ it doth not much trouble you ; but, alas ! they feel it, though you feel it not. May not many a papist rise up in judgment against us, and condemn us ? They will give their lands and estates to have so many masses said for the souls of their deceased friends, when it is too late, to bring them out of a feigned purgatory, and we will not ply them with persuasions while w^e may, to save them from real threatened condemnation; though this cheaper means may prove effectual, when that dearer way of papists will do no good. Jeremy cried out, " My bowels, my bowels, I cannot hold my peace," because of a temporal destruction of his people. And do not our bowels yearn ? And can we hold our peace at men's eternal destruction ?

2. Consider, W^hat a rate Christ did value souls at, and what he hath done towards the saving of them. He thought them w^orth * Nicocles.

his blood and sufferings ; and shall not we then think them worth the breath of our mouths ? Will you not set in with Christ for so good a work ? nor do a little, where he hath done so much ?

3. Consider, What fit objects of pity they are. It is no small misery to be an enemy to God, unpardoned, unsanctified, strangers to the church's special privileges, without hope of salvation if they so live and die. And, which is yet more, they are dead in these their trespasses and miseries, and have not hearts to feel them, or to pity themselves. If others do not pity them, they will have no pity ; for it is the nature of their disease to make them pitiless to their own souls, yea, to make them the most cruel destroyers of themselves.

4. Consider, It was once thy own case. Thou wast once a slave of Satan thyself, and confidently didst go in the way to condemnation. What if thou hadst been let alone in that way, whither hadst thou gone, and what had become of thee ? It was God's argument to the Israelites to be kind to strangers, because themselves were sometimes strangers in Egypt; so it may persuade you to show compassion to them that are strangers to Christ, and to the hopes and comforts of the saints, because you were once as strange to them yourselves.

5. Consider, The relation that thou stanclest in towards them. It is thy neighbour, thy brother, whom thou art bound to be tender of, and to love as thyself. He that loveth not his brother, whom he seeth daily, most certainly doth not love God, whom he never saw: and doth he love his brother, that will stand by, and see him go to hell, and never hinder him ? 1 John iii. 10 ; iv. 20, 21.

6. Consider, What a deal of guilt this neglect doth lay upon thy soul. First, Thou art guilty of the murder and damnation of all those souls whom thou dost thus neglect. He that standeth by and seeth a man in a pit, and will not pull him out if he can, doth drown him. And he that standeth by while thieves rob him, or murderers kill him, and will not help him if he can, is accessory to the fact. And so he that will silently suifer men to damn their souls, or will let Satan and the world deceive them, and not offer to help them, will certainly be judged guilty of damning them. And is not this a most dreadful consideration ? O sirs, how many souls, then, have every one of us been guilty of damning ! What a number of our neighbours and acquaintance are dead, in whom we discerned no signs of sanctification, and we never did once plainly tell them of it, or how to be recovered ! If you had been the cause but of burning a man's house through your negligence, or of undoing him in the world, or of destroying his body, how would it trouble you as long as you lived ! If you had but killed a man unadvisedly, it would much disquiet you. We have known those that have been guilty of murder, that could never sleep quietly after, nor have one comfortable day, their own consciences did so vex and torment them. Oh, then, what a heart mayst thou have, that hast been guilty of murdering such a nmltitude of precious souls! Remember this when thou lookest thy friend or carnal neighbour in

the face, and think with thyself, Can I find in my heart, through my silence and negligence, to be guilty of his everlasting burning in hell ? Methinks such a thought should even untie the tongue of the dumb.

2. And as you are guilty of their perishing, so are you of every sin which in the mean time they do commit. If they were converted, they would break off their course of sinning ; and if you did your duty, you know not but they might be converted. As he that is guilty of a man's drunkenness, is guilty of all the sins which (hat drunkenness doth cause him to commit; so he that is guilty of a man's continuing unregenerate, is also guilty of the sins of liis unregeneracy. llow many curses and oaths,' and scorns at God's ways, and other sins of most heinous nature, are many of you guilty of, that little think of it! You that live godlily, and take much pains for your own souls, and seem fearful of sinning, would take it ill of one that should tell you, that you are guilty of weekly or daily whoredoms, and drunkenness, and swearing, and lying, &c. And yet it is too true, even beyond all denial, by your neglect of helping those who do commit them.*

3. You are guilty, also, as of the sin, so of all the dishonour that God hath thereby. And how much is that! And how tender should a Christian be of the glory of God, the least part whereof is to be valued before all our lives !

4. You are guilty, also, of all those judgments which those men's sins do bring upon the town or country where they live. I know you are not such atheists, but you believe it is God that sendeth sickness, and famine, and war; and also that it is only sin that moveth him to this indignation. What doubt, then, is there, but you are the cause of judgments, who do not strive against those sins which do cause them ? God hath staid long in patience, to see if any would deal plainly with the sinners of the times, and so free their own souls from the guilt: but when he seeth that there is almost none, but all become guilty, no wonder then if he lay the judgment upon all. We have all seen the drunkards and heard the swearers in our streets, and we would not speak to them ; we have all lived in the midst of an ignorant, worldly, unholy people, and we have not spoke to them with earnestness, plainness, and love; no wonder, then, if God speak in his wrath both to them and us. Eli did not commit the sin himself, and yet he speaketh so coldly against it, that he also must bear the punishment. Guns and cannons speak against sin in England, because the inhabitants would not speak. God pleadeth with us with fire and sword, because we would not plead with sinners with our tongues. God locketh up the clouds, because we have shut up our mouths. The earth is grown as hard as iron to us, because we have hardened our hearts against our miserable neighbours. The cries of the poor for bread are loud, because our cries against sin have been so low. Sicknesses run apace from house to house, and sweep away the poor, unprepared inhabitants, because we swept not out the sin that

* Qui non vetat pcccare cum potest, jubct.

Lreedeth them. When you look over the woeful desolations in England, how ready are you to cry out on them that were the causers of it! But did you consider how deeply yourselves were guilty ? And, as Christ said in another case, " If these should hold their peace, the stones would speak," Luke xix. 40 ; so, because we held our peace at the ignorance, ungodliness, and wickedness of our places, therefore do these plagues and judgments speak.

7. Consider, What a thing it will be to look upon your poor friends eternally in those flames, and to think that your neglect was a great cause of it! and that there was a time when you might have done much to prevent it! If you should there perish with them, it would be no small aggravation of your torment: if you be in heaven, it would sure be a sad thought, were it possible that any sorrow could dwell there, to hear a multitude of poor souls there to cry out for ever. Oh ! if you would but have told me plainly of my sin and danger, and dealt roundly with me, and set it home, I might have escaped all this torment, and been now in rest. Oh ! what a sad voice will this be !

8. Consider, What a joy it is like to be in heaven to you, to meet those there whom you have been a means to bring thither ! To see their faces, and join with them for ever in the praises of God, whom ye were instruments to bring to the knowledge and obedience of Christ! What it will then be, we know not; but sure, according to our present temper, it would be no small joy.

9. Consider, How many souls have we drawn into the way of damnation, or at least hardened, or settled in it! And should we not now be more diligent to draw men to life ? There is not one of us but have had our companions in sin, especially in the days of our ignorance and unregeneracy. We have enticed them or encouraged them to sabbath-breaking, drinking, or revellings, or dancings and stage-plays, or wantonness and vanities, if not to scorn and oppose the godly. We cannot so easily bring them from sin again, as we did draw them to it. Many are dead already without any change discovered, who were our companions in sin. W^e know not how many are and will be in hell that we drew thither, and there may curse us in their torments for ever. And doth it not beseem us, then, to do as much to save men, as we have done to destroy them; and be merciful to some as we have been cruel to others.

10. Consider, How diligent are all the enemies of these poor souls to draw them to hell! And if nobody be diligent in helping them to heaven, what is like to become of them ? The devil is tempting them day and night. Their inward lusts are still working and withdrawing them. The flesh is still pleading for its delights and profits. Their old companions are ready to entice them to sin, and to disgrace God's ways and people to them, and to contradict the doctrine of Christ that should save them, and to increase their prejudice and dislike of holiness. Seducing teachers are exceeding diligent in sowing tares, and in drawing off the unstable from the doctrine and way of life : so that when we have done all

we can, and hope we have won men, what a multitude of hite have, after all, been taken in this snare ! And shall a seducer be so unwearied in proselyting poor, ungrounded souls to his fancies; and shall not a sound Christian be nmch more unwearied in labouring to win men to Christ and life ?

11. Consider, The neglect of this doth very deeply wound when conscience is awaked. When a man comes to die, conscience will ask him, What good hast thou done in thy life-time ? The saving of souls is the greatest good work ; what hast thou done towards this { How many hast thou dealt faithfully with { I have oft observed that the consciences of <lying men do very much wound thorn for this omission. For my own part, to tell you my experience, whenever I have been near death, my conscience hath accused me more for this than for any sin. It would bring every ignorant, profane neighbour to my remembrance, to whom I never made known their danger: it would tell me, Thou shouldst have gone to them in private, and told them plainly of their desperate danger, without bashfulness or daubing, though it had been when thou shouldst have eaten or slept, if thou hadst no other time : conscience would remember me, how, at such a time, or such a time, I was in company with the ignorant, or was riding by the way with a wilful sinner, and had a fit opportunity to have dealt with them, but did not; or, at least, did it by halves, and to little purpose. The Lord grant I may better obey conscience hereafter while 1 live and have time, that it may have less to accuse me of at death!

12. Consider, further. It is now a very seasonable time which you have for this work. Take it therefore while you have it. There are times wherein it is not safe to speak; it may cost you your liberties, or your lives: it is not so now with us. Besides, your neighbours will be here with you but a very little while ; they will shortly die, and so must you. Speak to them, therefore, while you may; set upon them, and give them no rest till you have prevailed. Do it speedily, for it nmst be now or never. A Roman emperor, when he heard of a neighbour dead, he asked, " And what did I do for him before he died ?" and it grieved him that a man should die near him, and it could not be said that he had first done him any good. Methinks you should think of this when you hear that any of your neighbours are dead; but I had far rather, while they are alive, you would ask the question : There is such and such a neighbour (alas, how many !) that are ignorant and ungodly, what have I done, or said, that might have in it any likelihood of recovering them ? They will shortly be dead, and then it is too late.

13. Consider, This is a work of greatest charity, and yet such as every one of you may perform. If it were to give them monies, the poor have it not to give ; if to fight for them, the weak cannot; if it were to suffer, the fearful will say, they cannot: but every one hath a tongue to speak to a sinner. The poorest may be thus charitable as well as the rich.

14. Consider, also, The happy consequences of this work, where it is faithfully done. To name some :

1. You may be instrumental in that blessed work of saving souls, a work that Christ came down and died for, a work that the angels of God rejoice in; for, saith the Holy Ghost, " If any of you do err from the truth, and one convert him, let him know that he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins," James v. 19, 20. And how can God more highly honour you, than to make you instruments in so great a work ?

2. Such souls will bless you here and hereafter. They may be angry with you at first; but if your words prevail and succeed, they will bless the day that ever they knew you, and bless God that sent you to speak to them.

3. If you succeed, God will have much glory by it; he will have one more to value and accept of his Son, of whom Christ's blood hath attained its end ; he w ill have one more to love him, and daily worship and fear him, and do him service in his church.

4. The church also will have gain by it; there will be one less provoker of wrath, and one more to strive with God against sin and judgment, and to engage against the sins of the times, and to win others by doctrine and example. If thou couldst but convert one persecuting Saul, he might become a Paul, and do the church more service than ever thou didst thyself. However, the healing of sinners is the surest method for preventing or removing of judgments.

5. It is the way also to purity and flourishing of the church, and to the right erecting and executing the discipline of Christ; if men would but do what they ought with their neighbours in private, what a help would it be to the success of the public endeavours of the ministry ! And what hope might we have that daily some would be added to the church ! And if any be obstinate, yet this is the first course that must be taken to reclaim them. Who dare separate from them, or excommunicate them, before they have been first thoroughly admonished and instructed in private, according to Christ's rule, Matt, xviii. 15, 16?

6. It bringeth much advantage to yourselves : First, It will increase your graces, both as it is a course that God will bless, and as it is an acting of them in this persuading of others : he that will not let you lose a cup of water which is given for him, will not let you lose these greater works of charity ; besides, those that have practised this duty most conscionably, do find, by experience, that they never go on more speedily and prosperously towards heaven than when they do most to help others thither with them. It is not here as with worldly treasure, the more you give away, the less you have ; but here, the more you give, the more you have. The setting forth Christ in his fulness to others, will warm your own hearts and stir up your love. The opening of the evil and danger of sin to others, will increase your hatred of it, and much engage

Chap. Xm. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. .|1.-,

yourselves against it. Secondly, And it seemeth that it will increase your glory as well as your grace, both as a duty which God will so reward, " for those that convert many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for over and ever," Dan. xii. 3; xi. 'S3 ; and also as we shall there behold them in heaven, and be their associates in blessedness, whom God made us here the instruments to convert. Thirdly, However, it will give us much peace of conscience, whether we succeed or not, to think that we were faithful, and did our best to save them, and that we are clear from the blood of all men, and their perishing shall not lie upon us. Fourthly, Besides, that it is a work that, if it succeed, doth exceedingly rejoice an honest heart. He that hath a sense of God's honour, or the least affection to the soul of his brother, must needs rejoice nmch at his conversion, whosoever be the instrument, l)ut especially when God maketh ourselves the means of so blessed a work. If God make us the instruments of any temporal good, it is very comfortable, but much more of eternal good. There is naturally a rejoicing followeth every good work answerable to the degree of its goodness : he that doth most good, hath usually the most happy and comfortable life. If men knew the pleasure that there is in doing good, they would not seek after their pleasure so much in evil. For my own part, it is an unspeakable comfort to me, that God hath made me an instrument for the recovering of so many from bodily diseases, and saving their natural lives ;* but all this is yet nothing to the comfort I have in the success of my labours, in the conversion and confirmation of souls; it is so great a joy to me that it drowneth the painfulncss of my daily duties, and the trouble of my daily languishing, and bodily griefs; and maketh all these, with all oppositions and difficulties in my work, to be easy and as nothing. And of all the personal mercies that ever I received, next to his love in Christ and to my soul, I must most joyfully bless him for the plenteous success of my endeavours upon others. Oh, what fruit, then, might I liave seen, if I had been more faithful, and plied the work in private and public as I ought! I know we have need to be very jealous of our deceitfid hearts in this point, lest our rejoicing should come from our pride and self-ascribing. Naturally we would, every man, be in the place of God, and have the praise of every good work ascribed to ourselves, but yet, to imitate our

* I know many learned physicians speak very sharply against ministers practising physic. But with these conditions no wise man disallowelh it: 1. That it hindejr not his main employment much. 2. That it be in case of absolute necessity, that the party must die else in the eye of reason: as, (I.) When no able physician is within reach. (2.) Or cannot, or will not come. (3.) Or the case is sudden, or the party so poor that he cannot pay physicians. 3. And if a man, being conscious of his insufficiency, resolves not to go beyond his knowledge, but rather to do too little than too much. 4. And if he take nothing for what he doth. "Who can blame a man that observes these conditions* except he would have a man guilty of murder, and not help a man if he fall down by us, because we are no physicians '. Et omnes has ipse conditiones observavi. If physicians may be able in divinity, as to their honour many have been—as Curjeus, Vadianus, Erastus, Peucerus, Camerarius, Scaliger, Gesner, Siiegkius, Zingerus, &c.—why then may not a divine as well understand physic ? And Dr. Primrose (de Errorib. Vulg. c. 4. lib. i.) might have remembered more divines than Marsil. Ficinus that were physicians, as tragus, Ingolsteterus, Lemnius, &c.

Father in goodness and mercy, and to rejoice in that degree we attain to, is the part of every child of God. I tell you therefore, to persuade you from my own experience, ihat if you did but know what a joyful thing it is to be an instrument for the converting and saving of souls, you would set upon it presently, and follow it night and day through the greatest discouragements and resistance. Fifthly, I might also tell you of the honourableness of this work ; but I will pass by that, lest I excite your pride instead of your zeal. And thus I have showed you what should move and persuade you to this duty. Let me now conclude with a word of entreaty : First, To all the godly in general. Secondly, To some above others in particular, to set upon the conscionable performance of this most excellent work.

CHAPTER XIV.

AN ADVICE TO SOME MORE SPECIALLY TO HELP OTHERS TO THIS REST, PRESSED LARGELY ON MINISTERS AND PARENTS.

Sect. I. Up, then, every man that hath a tongue, and is a servant of Christ, and do something of this your Master's work : why hath he given you a tongue but to speak in his service ? And how can you serve him more eminently, than in the saving of souls ? He that will pronounce you blessed at the last day, and sentence you to the kingdom prepared for you, because you fed him, and clothed him, and visited him, &c. in his members, will sure pronounce you blessed for so great a work as is the bringing over of souls to his kingdom, and helping to drive the match betwixt them and him. He that saith, " The poor you have always with you," hath left the ungodly always with you, that you might still have matter to exercise your charity upon. Oh, if you have the hearts of Christians or of men in you, let them yearn towards your poor, ignorant, ungodly neighbours. Alas ! there is but a step betwixt them and death and hell; many hundred diseases are waiting ready to seize on them, and if they die unregenerate, they are lost for ever. Have you hearts of rock, that cannot pity men in such a case as this ? If you believe not the word of God, and the danger of sinners, why are you Christians yourselves ? If you do believe it, why do you not bestir you to the helping of others ? Do you not care who is damned, so you be saved.' If so, you have as much cause to pity yourselves ; for it is a frame of spirit utterly inconsistent with grace. Should you not rather say, as the lepers of Samaria, Is it not a day of glad tidings, and do we sit still, and hold our peace ? 1 Kings vii, 9. Hath God had so much mercy on you, and will you have no mercy on your poor neighbours ? You need not go far to find objects for your pity. Look but into your streets, or into the next house to you, and you will probably find some. Have you never an

ignorant and unregenerate neighbour that sets his heart below, and neglecteth eternity ( Oh, what blessed place do you live in, where there is none such ? If there be not some of them in thine own family, it is well; and yet art thou silent i Dost thou live close by them, or meet them in the streets, or labour with them, or travel with them, or sit still and talk with them, and say nothing to them of their souls, or the life to come { If their houses were on fire, thou wouldst run and help them ; and wilt thou not help them when their souls are almost at the fire of hell i If thou knewest but a remedy for their diseases, thou wouldst tell it them, or else thou wouldst judge thyself guilty of their death. Cardan speaks of one that had a receipt that would suddenly and certainly dissolve the stone in the bladder; and he concludes of him, that he makes no doubt but that man is in hell, because he never revealed it to any before he died. What shall we say, then, of them that know of the remedy for curing souls, and do not reveal it, nor persuade men to make use of it ? Is it not hypocrisy to pray daily for their conversion and salvation, and never once endeavour to procure it ? And is it not hypocrisy to pray, " that God's name may be hallowed," and never to endeavour to bring men to hallow it, nor hinder them from profaning it ? And can you pray, " Let thy kingdom come," and yet never labour for the coming or increase of that kingdom ? Is it not grief to your hearts to see the kingdom of Satan so to flourish, and to see him lead captive such a multitude of souls ? You take on you that you are soldiers in Christ's army, and will you do nothing against his prevailing enemies ? You pray also daily, "that his will may be done ; " and should you not daily, then, persuade men to do it, and dissuade them from sinning against it ? You pray, " that God would forgive them their sins, and that he would not lead them into temptation, but deliver them from evil;" and yet will you not help them against temptations, nor help to deliver them from the greatest evil; nor help them to repent and believe, that they may be forgiven ? Alas ! that your prayers and your practice should so much disagree ! Look about you, therefore. Christians, with an eye of compassion on the ignorant, ungodly sinners about you; be not like the priest or Levite who saw the man wounded, and passed by. God did not so pass by you, when it was your own case. Are not the souls of your neighbours fallen into the hands of Satan ? Doth not their misery cry out to you. Help ! help! As you have any compassion towards men in the greatest misery, help ! As you have the hearts of men, and not of tigers in you, help ! Alas ! how forward are hypocrites in their sacrifice, and how backward to show mercy ! How much in praying, and duties of worship, and how little in plain reproof and exhortation, and other duties of compassion! And yet God hath told them, " that he will have mercy, and not sacrifice ;" that is, mercy before sacrifice. And how forward are these hypocrites to censure ministers for neglecting their duties ! yea, to expect more duty from one minister, than ten can perform ! And yet they make no conscience of neglecting their own. Nay, how forward are they 2 E

to separate from those about them ! And how censorious against those that admit them to the Lord's supper, or that join with them ! And yet will they not be brought to deal with them in Christ's way for their recovery : as if other men were to work, and they only to sit by and judge. Because they know it is a work of trouble, and will many times set men against them, therefore no persuasion will bring them to it. They are like men that see their neighbour sick of the plague, or drowning in the water, or taken captive by the enemy, and they dare not venture to relieve him themselves ; but none so forward to put on others. So are these men the greatest expecters of duty, and the least performers.

Sect. II. But as this duty lieth upon all in general, so upon some more especially, according as God hath called or qualified them thereto. To them, therefore, more particularly, I will address my exhortation, whether they be such as have more opportunity and advantages for this work, or such as have better abilities to perform it, or such as have both. And these are of several sorts.

1. All you that God hath given more learning and knowledge to, and endued with better parts for utterance than your neighbours, God expecteth this duty especially at your hand. The strong are made to help the weak, and those that see must direct the blind. God looketh for this faithful improvement of your parts and gifts, which if you neglect, it were better for you that you never had received them; for they will but further your condemnation, and be as useless to your own salvation as they were to others.

Sect. III. 2. All those that have special familiarity with some ungodly men, and that have interest in them, God looks for this duty at their hands. Christ himself did eat and drink with publicans and sinners, but it was only to be their physician, and not their companion. Who knows but God gave you interest in them to this end, that you might be means of their recovery ? They that will not regard the words of another, will regard a brother, or sister, or husband, or wife, or near friend; besides, that the bond of friendship doth engage you to more kindness and compassion than ordinary.

Sect. IV. 3. Physicians that are much about dying men, should, in a special manner, make conscience of this duty : they have a treble advantage. First, They are at hand. Secondly, They are with men in sickness and danger, when the ear is more open, and the heart less stubborn, than in time of health. He that made a scorn of godliness before, will then be of another mind, and hear counsel then, if ever he will hear it. Thirdly, Besides, they look upon their physician as a man in whose hand is their life, or at least may do so much to save them ; and therefore they will the more regardfully hear his advice. O, therefore, you that are of this honourable profession, do not think this a work beside your calling, as if it belonged to none but ministers; except you think it beside your calling to be compassionate, or to be Christians. O, help, therefore, to fit your patients for heaven, and whether you see they are for life or death, teach them both how to live and to die, and

give them some physic for their souls, as you do for their bodies, iilessod he God that very many of the chief physicians of this age have, by their eminent piety, vindicated their profession from the common imputation of atheism and profaneness.

Sect. V . 4. Another sort that have cxceHent advantages for this duty, is, men that have weaUh and autliority, and are of great place and command iu the world, especially that have many that live in dependence on them. Oh, what a world of good might gentlemen, and knights, and lords, do, that have a great many tenants, and that are the leaders of the country, if they had hut hearts to improve their interest and advantage ! * Little do you that are such, think of the duty that lies upon you in this. Have you not all your honour and riches from God ! And is it not evident, then, that yoli must employ them for the best advantage of his service ? Do you not know who hath said, " that to whom men commit much, from them they will expect the more ?"

You have the greatest opportunities to do good of most men in the world. Your tenants dare not contradict you, lest you dispossess them or their children of their habitations. They fear you more than they do God himself; your frown will do more with them than the threatenings of the Scripture ; they will sooner obey you than God. If you speak to them lor God and their souls, you may be regarded, when even a minister that they fear not shall be despised. If they do but see you favour the way of godliness, they will lightly counterfeit it, at least, to please you, especially if they live within the reach of your observation. O, therefore, as you value the honour of God, your own comfort, and the salvation of souls, improve your interest to the utmost for God. Go visit your tenants' and neighbours' houses, and see whether they worship God in their families, and take all opportunities to press them to their duties. Do not despise them because they are poor or sim-

* "WTiat a horrid tiling is it, that usually none are greater enemies to, and hinderers of, Christ's kingdom and work, than those that, 1. By office, and 2. By the greatness of their talents of riches, power, and honour, are most deeply engaged to Christ! Even Jehu, that pretended to reformation, and destroyed the worship and priests of Baal, and said, " Come and see my zeal for the Lord," and rises up against Ahab for his persecution and idolatry ; yet, when the government falls into his hands, persists in the stejis of him whom he destroyed, thereby adjudging himself to destruction ; and all because when he had espoused the same interest, he thinks himself necessitated to take the same course! Oh how Christ will come upon these hypocrites in his fury, and dasli them in pieces like a potter's vessel, and bruise them with his rod of iron, and make them know that he will reign in his holy hill, Zion! Will not kings yet be wise, nor the judges of tlie earth be learned ; to kiss the Son lest he be angry, and they perish ? Will they break his bonds, and confederate against his government, and be jealous of it and his ministers, as if Christ's government and theirs could not both stand t How long will they set their interest before and against Christ's interest, and bend their studies to keep it under, and call his government tyranny, and their subjection slavery 1 Do they not know how much Christ's interest hath been taken dowTi, upon mere pretended necessity of setting up their own 1 Will their religious hypocrisy secure them from his burning wrath, when be shall say, " These mine enemies that would not 1 should reign over them, bring them hither, and slay them before mel" I entreat them (if they be not past teaching) to read what a moderate divine saith, even Junius de Communione Sanct. especially the fiftli chapter of his Ecclesiastes, of the power of the magistrate in church affairs. O let all christians pray daily, " Lead us not into temptation." I will not trust my brother if he be once exalted, and in the way of temptation.

pie. Remember, God is no respecter of persons ; your flesh is of no Letter metal than theirs ; nor will the worms spare your faces or hearts any more than theirs ; nor will your bones or dust bear the badge of your gentility : you must be all equals when you stand in judgment; and, therefore, help the soul of a poor man, as well as if he were a gentleman. And let men see that you excel others as much in piety, heavenliness, compassion, and diligence in God's work, as you do in riches and honour in the world.

I confess you are like to be singular if you take this course ; but then remember, you shall be singular in glory, for few great, and mighty, and noble, are called.

Sect. VI. 5. Another sort that have special opportunity to this work of helping others to heaven, is, the ministers of the gospel. As they have, or should have, more ability than others, so it is the very work of their calling, and every one expecteth it at their hands, and will better submit to their teaching than to others. I intend not these instructions so much to teachers as to others, and therefore I shall say but little to them ; and if all or most ministers among us were as faithful and diligent as some, I would say nothing. But, because it is otherwise, let me give these two or three words of advice to my brethren in this office.

1. Be sure that the recovering and saving of souls be the main end of your studies and preaching, Acts xx. and xxvi. 18. O do not propound any low and base ends to yourselves. This is the end of your calling, let it be also the end of your endeavours. God forbid that you should spend a week's study to please the people, or to seek the advancing of your own reputation. Dare you appear in the pulpit on such a business, and speak for yourselves, when you are sent, and pretend to speak for Christ ? Dare you spend that time, and wit, and parts, for yourselves ? and waste the Lord's day in seeking applause, which God hath set apart for himself? Oh, what a notorious sacrilege is this ! Set out the work of God as skilfully and adornedly as you can, but still let the winning of souls be your end, and let all your studies and labours be serviceable thereto. Let not the window be so painted as to keep out the light, but always judge that the best means that most conduceth to the end. Do not think that God is best served by a neat, starched, laced oration ; but that he is the able, skilful minister, that is best skilled in the art of instructing, convincing, persuading, and so winning of souls ; and that is the best sermon that is best in these. When you once grow otherwise minded, and seek not God but yourselves, God will make you the basest and most contemptible of men, as you make yourselves the most sinful and wretched. Hath not this brought down the ministry of England once already ? It is true of your reputation, as Christ saith of your lives, " They that will save them, will lose them," O, let the vigour, also, of your persuasions show that you are sensible on how weighty a business you are sent. O, preach with that seriousness and fervour as men that believe their own doctrine, and that know their hearers must either be prevailed with, or be damned. What

you would do to save thcin from everlasting burning, that do while you have the opportunity and price in your hand; that peojile may discern that you are in goocl sadness, and mean as you speak; and that you are not stage-players, but preachers of the doctrine of salvation. Remenibcr what Cicero saith, " that if the matter be never so combustible, yet, if you put not fire to it, it will not burn." And what Krasnms saith, '' that a hot iron will pierce, when a cold one will not." And if the wise men of the world account you mad, say as Paul, "If we are beside ourselves, it is to God." And remember that Christ was so busy in doing of good, that his friends themselves begun to lay hands on him, thinking he had been beside himself, Mark iii.

Sect. VII. 2. The second and chief word of advice that I would give you, is this : Do not think that all your work is in your studies, and in the pulpit. I confess that is great; but, alas ! it is but a small part of your task. You are shepherds, and must know every sheep, and what is their disease, and mark their strayings, and help to cure them, and fetch them home.

If the paucity of ministers in great congregations (which is the great unobserved mischief in England that cries for reformation) did not make it a thing impossible in many places, I should charge the ministers of England with most notorious unfaithfulness, for neglecting so much the rest of their work, which calleth for their diligence as much as public preaching. O learn of Paul, Acts xx. 10, 20, 31, to preach publicly, and from house to house, night and day with tears. Let there not be a soul in your charge that shall not be particularly instructed and watched over. Go from house to house daily, and inquire how they grow in knowledge and holiness, and on what grounds they build their hopes of salvation ; and whether they walk uprightly, and perform the duties of their several relations, and use the means to increase their abilities. See whether they daily worship God in their families; and set them in a way, and teach them how to do it: confer with them about the doctrines and practice of religion, and how they receive and profit by public teaching, and answer all their carnal objections : keep in familiarity with them, that you may maintain your interest in them, and improve all your interest for God. See that no seducers do creep in amongst them, or if they do, be diligent to countermine them ; and preserve your people from infection of heresies and schisms; or if they be infected, be diligent to procure their recovery ; not with passion and lordliness, but with patience and condescension : as Musculus did by the Anabaptists, visiting them in prison, where the magistrate had cast them, and there instructing and relieving them ; and though they reviled him when he came, and called him a false prophet, and antichristian seducer that thirsted for their blood, yet he would not so leave them, till at last by his meekness and love he had overcome them, and recovered many to the truth, and to unity with the church.

Have a watchful eye upon each particular sheep in your flock : do not do as the lazy separatists, that gather a few of the best to-

gether, and take them only for their charge, leaving the rest to sink or swim, and giving them over to the devil and their lusts ; and except it be by a sermon in the pulpit, scarce ever endeavouring their salvation, nor once looking what becomes of them. O let it not be so with you ! If any be weak in the faith, receive him, hut not to doubtful disputations, Rom. xiv. 1. If any be too careless of their duties, and too little savour the things of the Spirit, let them be pitied, and not neglected : if any walk scandalously and disorderly, deal with them for their recovery with all diligence and patience, and set before them the heincusness and danger of their sin; if they prove obstinate after all, then avoid them, and cast them off: but do not so cruelly as to unchurch them by hundreds and by thousands, and separate from them as so many pagans, and that before any such means have been used for their recovery. If they be ignorant, it may be your fault as well as theirs; and, however, they are fitter to be instructed than rejected, except they absolutely refuse to be taught. Christ will give you no thanks for keeping or putting out such from his school that are unlearned, when their desire or will is to be taught. I confess, it is easier to shut out the ignorant, than to bestow our pains night and day in teaching them ; but woe to such slothful, unfaithful servants ! Matt. xxiv. 4.5, 46, " Who then is a faithful and a wise servant, whom his Lord hath made ruler over his household, to give them their meat iu due season," according to every one's age and capacity ? " Blessed is that servant, whom his Lord when he cometh shall find so doing." O be not asleep while the wolf is waking ! Let your eye be quick in observing the dangers and strayings of your people. If jealousies, heart-burnings, or contentions arise among them, quench them before they break out into raging, unresistible flames. As soon as you discern any to turn worldly, or proud, or factious, or self-conceited, or disobedient, or cold, and slothful in his duty; delay not, but presently make out for his recovery : remember how many are losers in the loss of a soul.

Sect. VIII. 3. Do not daub, or deal slightly with any. Some will not tell their people plainly of their sins because they are great men, and some because they are godly, as if none but the poor and the wicked should plainly be dealt with : do not you so, but reprove them sharply, though differently, and with wisdom, that they may be sound in the faith. When the Palsgrave chose Pitiscus for his household chaplain, he charged him. That without fear he should discharge his duty, and freely admonish him of his faults, as the Scriptures do require. Such encouragement from great ones, v/ould imbolden ministers, and free themselves from the unhappi-ness of sinning unreproved. If gentlemen would give no more thanks to Doegs, and accusers of the ministers, than W^igandus's prince did to that flattering lawyer who accused him for speaking to princes too plainly, they should learn quickly to be silent, when they had been forced, as Hamans tliemselves, to clothe Mordecai, and set him in honour. However, God doth sufficiently encourage us to deal plainly ; He hath bid us speak and fear not ; He hath

promised to stand by us, and He will be our security ; lie may suffer us to be mudhona scchiuIkih did, (as Bucliolcer said,) but non secundum esse : He will keep us, as he did Huss's heart from the power of fire, though they did beat it, when they found it among the ashes. They may burn our bones, as Bucer's and Fagius's ; or they may raise lies of us when Ave are dead, as of Luther, Calvin, and Gtlcolampadius; but the soul feeleth not this, that is rejoicing with his Lord. In the mean time let us be as well learned in the art of suffering (as Xenophon) as they are in the art of reproaching: I had rather hear from the mouth of Balak, "God hath kept thee from honour;" or from Ahab, "Feed him with the bread and water of afiliction;" or from Amaziah, " Art thou made of the king's council .' forbear, why shouldst thou be smitten?" than to hear conscience say. Thou hast betrayed souls to damnation by thy cowardice ancl silence; or to hear God say. Their blood will I require at thy hands ; or to hear from Christ the Judge, " Cast the unprofitable servant into utter darkness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth;" yea, or to hear these sinners cry out against me in eternal fire, and with implacable rage to charge me with their undoing. Numb. xxii. 11; 1 Kings xxii. 27; 2 Chron. xxv. IG; Ezek. iii. 18, 20, and xxxiii. 8; Matt. xxv. 30.

And as you must be plain and serious, so labour to be skilful and discreet, that the manner may somewhat answer the excellency of the matter. How oft have I heard a stammering tongue, with ridiculous expressions, vain repetitions, tedious circumlocutions, and unseemly pronunciation, to spoil most precious spiritual doctrine, and make the hearers either loathe it or laugh at it! How common are these extremes in the ministers of England! That while one spoils the food of life by affectation, and new-fashioned mincing, and pedantic toys, either setting forth a little and mean matter with a great deal of froth and gaudy dressing, so that there is more of the shell or paring than of the meat; or like children's babies, that when you have taken away the dressing, you have taken away all; or else hiding excellent truths in a heap of vain rhetoric, and deforming its naked beauty with their paintings, so that no more seriousness can be perceived in their sermons, than in a school-boy's declamations; and our people are brought to hear sermons, as they do stage-plays, because ministers behave themselves but as the actors : on the other side, how many by their slovenly dressing, and the uncleanness of the dish that it is served up in, do make men loathe and nauseate the food of life, and even despise and cast up that which should nourish them ! Such novices are admitted into the sacred function, to the hardening of the wicked, the saddening of the godly, and the disgrace and Avrong of the work of the Lord ; and those that are not able to speak sense or reason, are made the ambassadors of the most high God.

I know our style must not be the same with different auditories: our language must not only be suited to our matter, but also to our hearers, or else the best sermon may be the worst; we must not

read the highest hooks to the lowest form : therefore was Luther wont to say, that Qui pueriliter, ■popidariter, triviaUter, et simpli-cisshne doccnt, opthni ad vulf/its sxnf concionatores; but yet it is a poor sermon that hath nothing hut words and noise. Every reasonable soul hath both judgment and affection ; and every rational, spiritual sermon must have both. A discourse that hath judgment without affection is dead, and uneffectual; and that which hath affection without judgment is mad and transporting : remember the proverb, A^o« omnesqui liabent cUharam,sunt citharcedi, Every man is not a musician that hath an instrument, or that can jangle it, and make a noise on it: and that other proverb (2 Tim. ii. 15), Jfulti sunt qui hoves stimulant, jmuci aratores, Many can prick the oxen, but few can plough : so, many preachers can talk loud and earnestly, but few can guide their flock aright, or open to them solidly the mysteries of the gospel, and show the true mean between the extremes of contrary errors. I know both must be done ; holding the plough without driving the oxen doth nothing; and driving without holding maketh mad work, and is worse than nothing : but yet remember, that every plough-boy can drive ; but to guide is more difficult, and therefore belongeth to the master-workman. The violence of the natural motion of the winds can drive on the ship; but there is necessary a rational motion to guide and govern it, or else it will quickly be on the rocks or shelves, either broke or sunk, and had better lie still in the harbour, at an anchor: the horses that have no reason, can set the coach or cart a-going, but if there be not some that have reason to guide them, it were better stand still. O, therefore, let me bespeak you, my brethren, in the name of the Lord, especially those that are more young and weak, that you tremble at the greatness of this holy employment, and run not up into a pulpit as boldly as into a market-place : study and pray, pray and study, till you are become workmen that need not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth, that your people may not be ashamed, or weary to hear you; but that besides your clear unfolding of the doctrine of the gospel, you may also be masters of your people's affections, and may be as potent in your divine rhetoric, as Cicero in his human, who, as it is said, while he pleaded for Ligarius, Arnia de imperatoris quantunivis irati manu excusserit, et misero supplici veniam impetrant; or, as it is said of excellent Bucholcer, that he never went up into the pulpit, but he raised in men almost what affections he pleased ; so raising the dejected, and comforting the afflicted, and strengthening the tempted, that though it were two hours before he had done, yet not any, even of the common people, were weary of hearing him. Set before your eyes such patterns as these, and labour with unwearied diligence to be like them. To this end take Demosthenes' counsel, Phis olei quam vini ahsumere. It is a work that requireth your most serious, searching thoughts. Running, hasty, easy studies, bring forth blind births. When you are the most renowned doctors in the church of God, alas, how little is it that you know, in comparison of all that which you are ignorant of! Content not yourselves to

know wluit is the judgmont of others, as if that were to know the truth in its evidence ; give not over your studies when you know what the orthodox hokl, and what is the opinion of the most esteemed divines : though I think whih^ you are novices, and learners yourselves, you may do well to take much upon trust from the more judicious ; yet stop not there ; but know, that such faith is more borrowed than your own : an implicit faith in matters not fundamental, and of great difficulty, is ofttimes commendable, yea, and necessary, in your people, who are but scholars ; but in you that are masters and teachers, it is a reproach.

Sect. IX. 4, Be sure that your conversation be teaching as well as your doctrine. Do not contradict and refute your own doctrine by your practice. Be as forward in a holy and heavenly life, as you are in pressing on others to it. Let your discourse be as edifying and spiritual as you teach them that theirs must be. Go not to law with your people, nor quarrel with them, if you can possibly avoid it. If they wrong you, forgive them : for evil language give them good, and blessing for their cursing. Let go your right rather than let go your hopes and advantages for the winning of one soul. Suifer any thing rather than the gospel and men's souls should suffer. Become all things lawful to all men^ if by any means you may win some. Let men see that you use not the ministry only for a trade to live by, but that your very hearts are wholly set upon the welfare of their souls. Whatsoever meekness, humility, condescension, or self-denial, you teach them from the gospel, oh ! teach it them also by your undissembled, leading example. This is to be guides, and pilots, and governors of the church indeed. Be not like the orators that Diogenes blamed, that studied heve cUcere, non hene fncere ; nor like the sign at the inn-door, that hangs out in the rain itself, while it shows others where they may have shelter and refreshing ; nor like the fencer that can offend, but not defend ; as Cicero said of Ca^lius, that he was a good right-hand man, but an ill left-hand man. See that you be as well able to defend yourselves when you are tempted by Satan, or accused by men to be proud, covetous, or negligent, as to tell others what they should be. Oh, how many heavenly doctrines are in some people's ears, that never Avere in the preacher's heart ! Too true is that of Hilary, Sanctiores sunt anren plehis, qiinm corda mcerdotum. Alas, that ever pride, emulation, hypocrisy, or covetousness, should come into a pulpit ! They are hateful in the shops and street, but more hateful in the church, but in the pulpit most of all. What an odious sight is it, to see pride and ambition stand up to preach humility; and hypocrisy to preach up sincerity ; and an earthly-minded man to preach for a heavenly conversation ! Do I need to tell you that are teachers of others, that we have but a little while longer to preach, and but a few breaths more to breathe, and then we must come down, and be accountable for our work .' Do I need to tell you that we must die, and be judged as well as our people ; or that justice is most severe about the sanctuary ; and judgment beginneth at the house of

God ; and revenge is most implacable about the altar ; and jealousy hottest about the ark ? Have you not learned these lessons from Eli, Korah, Nadab and Abihu, Uzzah, and the Bethshemites, &c. though I had said nothing ? Can you forget that even some of our tribe shall say at judgment, " Lord, we have taught in thy name," (Matt, vii.) who yet must depart with " I know you not '{ " Do you learn nothing by the afflictions that now lie upon you ? You see what hath been done against the ministry of England : how some have been laid hold on by the hand of justice, and some by the hand of violence and injustice, and how all are lashed and reproached by the wanton tongues of ignorant, insolent sectaries ; neither prelatical, Presbyterian, nor mere Independent, now spared, it being the very calling itself that now they set against: how they rob the church of her due maintenance, and make no more of it than Dionysius did of robbing ^sculapius of his golden beard, Quia harhatus erat Jilius, at pater Apollo non ita; or than the same Dionysius did of robbing Jupiter Olympius of the golden coat that Hieron. had given, saying, " that a coat of gold was too heavy for summer, and too cold for winter, but cloth would be suitable to both ;" or than he did of robbing the images of the vessels of gold which they held in their hands, saying, " he did but take what they offered, and held forth to him ;" or than the same Dionysius did of robbing the temple of Proserpina, when afterwards his ships had a prosperous wind, Videtis, inquit, quam prospera navigatio a diis immortalihus detur sacrilegis: ex hoc colligens aut non esse deos, aut illis non esse molesta sacrilegia. Sirs, doth God lay all this on the church and ministry for nothing ? Doth not the world know what an ignorant, lazy ministry formerly possessed many churches in the land ? And how many such are there yet remaining ! And those that are better, alas ! how far from what we should be, either in knowledge or practice ; and yet how unwilling are they to learn what they know not! Even as unwilling as their people are to learn of them, if not much more. O, see your errors by the glass of your afflictions, and if the words of God will not serve the turn, let the tongues of enemies and sectaries show you your transgressions. Of whom I may say to you as Erasmus of Luther, Deus dedit huic j)ostrem(B (Ptati pi^opter morhorum multitu-dinem acrem medicum; and as the Emperor Charles of the same Luther, Si sacrijiculifnigi essent, nullo indigerent Luthero. Yet let not any papist catch at this, as if our ministry were unlearned and vicious, in comparison of theirs ; the contrary of the common sort is well known: and though the Jesuits of late have been so industrious and learned, yet I could tell them, out of Erasmus, of some that proved heretics must be killed, from Paul's licereticuin hominem de-vita, i. e. de vita tolle ; and of Hen. Stephanus' priest of Artois, that would prove that it belonged to his parishioners to pave the church, and not to him, from Jeremy's paveant illi, not paveam ego. Or if these seem partial witnesses, T could tell them what Bellarmine saith of the ninth age : Seculo hoc nullum extitit iiidoctius aut in-felicius, quo qui mathematicce aut philosophite operam dahat, mag-

CiiAP. XIV. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING UKST. .127

iuis rithjo pti/ahafur; and as Esponcccus saith, Et Cnccc nosse fiitspectttm flier it, llchrnkc propc lueiclictnn. I could tell them also what a clergy was found in (jerinany, and in iMigland, at the RefoiMuation ; what bavljarous ignorance, beastly uncleanness, and nuirders of the children begotten in whoredom, was found among them. I could tell them who have been turned from their church by a mere journey to Rome ; there seeing the wickedness of their chicfest clergy : and what Petrarch, Mantuan, with nmltitudes more, say of it : and (if the most horrid nuu-ders were not become virtues with them; and did they not think they did God service by killing his servants) should mind them of all the burnings in England, and of all the unparalli led bloody massacres in Erance, and the Inquisition of Spain, w hich tlieir clergy yet manage and promote. If any say, that I speak this but upon reports, we have seen no such thing, I answer as Pausanias, when he was blamed for dispraising a physician that he had never made trial of. Sipcricidnm fecissem neqna-qiiam viicrem. If we had fallen into their hands, it had been too late to complain : Quia me restifjia terreiit, omnia in adrersiim spectanlia, nulla retrorsum. And some taste of the fruits of their projects we have lately had in England, by which paw we may sufficiently conjecture of the lion. So that, as bad as we are, our adversaries have little cause to reproach us.

But yet, brethren, let us impartially judge ourselves; for God will shortly judge us impartially. What is it that hath occasioned so many novices to invade the ministry, who, being puffed up w'ith pride, are fallen into the snare of the devil, 1 Tim. iii. G, and bring the work of God into contempt by their ignorance ? Hath not the ungodliness and ambition of those that are more learned, by bringing learning itself into contempt, been the cause of all this i Alas ! who can be so blinded by his charity, as not to see the truth of this among us ? How many of the greatest wits have the most graceless hearts ! and relish Cicero, Demosthenes, or Aristotle, better than David, or Paul, or Christ; and even loathe those holy ways which customarily they preach for : that have no higher ends in entering upon the ministry, than gain and preferment; and when the hopes of preferment are taken away, they think it but folly to choose such a toilsome and ungrateful work. And thus the l)all of reproach is tossed between the well-meaning ignorant, and the ungodly learned; and between these two, how miserable is the church ! The one cries out of unlearned schismatics ; the other cries out of proud, ungodly persecutors; and say. These are your learned men, who study for nothing but for a benefice, or a bishopric ; that are as strange to the mysteries of regeneration, and a holy life, as any others ! and oh that these reproaches were not too true of many ! God hath lessened ministers of late, one would think sufficiently, to beware of ambition and secular avocations ; but it is hard to hear God speak by the tongue of an enemy, or to see and acknowledge his hand where the instrument doth miscarry. If English examples have lost their force, as being so near your eyes that you cannot see them, remember the end of

Funicius, that learned chronologer, who might have lived longer as a divine, but died as a prince's counsellor, and the distich pronounced at his death.

Disce meo exemplo, mandato munere fungi, Et fuge ceu pestem t»;i/ ■jroXvirpayfioa-viii]!/.

And the like fate of Justus Jonas, (J. C. son of that great divine of the same name,) the next year, whose last verses were like the former.

Quid jurat innumeros scire atque evolvere casus, Si f;icienda fugis, si fugieiida facis"?

Study not, therefore, the way of rising, but the way of righteousness. Honesty will hold out, when honours will deceive you. If your hearts be once infected with the fermentation of this swelling humour, it will quickly rise up to your brain, and corrupt your intellectuals, and then you will be of that opinion which your flesh thinks to be good, and not that which your judgment thought to be true; and you will fetch your religion from the statute-book, and not from the Bible, as the jest went of Agricola, who turned from a protestant to an Antinomian ; and being convinced of that error, turned papist, into the other extreme; and Pflugius and Sidonius, authors of the Interim ; Chrisma ah eis et oleum pontijt-ciiim inter alia defenduntur, ut ipsi discederent unctiores, because they obtained bishoprics by it. Oh, what a doleful case is it to see so many brave wits, and men of profound learning, to be made as useless and hurtful to the church of God by their pride and ungodliness, as others are by their pride and ignorance ! Were a clear understanding conjoined with a holy heart and heavenly life, and were they as skilful in spiritual as human learning, what a glory and blessing would they be to the churches !

Sect. X. 5. Lastly, Be sure that you study and strive after unity and peace. If ever you would promote the kingdom of Christ, and your people's salvation, do it in a way of peace and love : public wars and private quarrels do usually pretend the reformation of the church, the vindicating of the truth, and the welfare of souls; but they as usually prove, in the issue, the greatest means to the overthrow of all.

It is as natural for both wars and private contentions to produce errors, schisms, contempt of magistracy, ministry, and ordinances, as it is for a dead carrion to breed worms and vermin: believe it from one that hath too many years' experience of both in armies and garrisons : it is as hard a thing to maintain, even in your people, a sound understanding, a tender conscience, a lively, gracious, heavenly frame of spirit, and an upright life, in a way of war and contention, as to keep your candle lighted in the greatest storms, or under the waters.

The like I may say of perverse and fierce disputings about baptism, and the circumstantials of discipline, or other questions that are far from the foundation ; they oftener lose the truth than find it.

A synod is as likely and lawful a means as any for such decisions; and yet Nazianzen saith, ♦S'e hactenus non vidisse idliiis synodi utilem

Jincm, (till in qua res male se habentes, ?ion magis exacerhatee quam curat(cj'i(t'rint.

Witii the vulgar he seems to be the conqueror that hath the last word, or at least he that hath the most plausible deportment, the most aiTecting tone, the most earnest and conlident expressions, the most probable arguments, rather than he that hath the most naked demonstrations. He takes with them most, that speaks for the opinion which they like and are inclined to, though he speak nonsense : and he that is most familiar with them, hath the best opportunities and advantages to prevail, especially he that hath the greatest interest in their affections. So that a disputation before the vulgar, even of the godly, is as likely a means to corrupt them, as to cure them : usually the most erroneous seducers will carry out their cause with as good a face, as fluent a tongue, as great contempt and reproach of their opposers, and as much confidence that the truth is on their side, as if it were so indeed.

Para^us's master taught him that cerfo certius in qualihet minu-tiasimapaninporiioue, vcre et suhsia^iiialiter integrum corpus CItristi esset: item in, apud, cum, sub minutissima vini guttula adesset integer sanguis dominicus. What confidence was here in a bad cause ! And if you depend on the most reverend and best-esteemed teachers, and suffer the weight of their reputation to turn the scales, you may in many things be never the nearer to the truth. How many learned, able men have the name and authority of Luther misled in the point of con-substantiation! Ursin was carried away with it awhile, till he was turned from it by the reading of Luther's own arguments, they were such paralogisms. Yet was it Luther's charge to his followers, " that none should call themselves after his name, because he died not for them, nor was his doctrine his own." The only way, therefore, to the prospering your labours, is, to quench all flames of contention, to your power. If you would have the waters of verity and piety to be clear, the way is not to stir in them, and trouble them, but to let them settle in peace, and run down into practice.

Woe to those ministers who make unnecessary divisions and parties among the people, that so they may get themselves a name, and be cried up by many followers ! And as you should thus study the peace and unity of your congregations, so keep out all the occasions of division, especially the doctrine of separation, and popular church government, the apparent seminary of faction and perpetual contentions. If once your people be taught that it belongeth to them to govern themselves, and those that Scripture calleth their guides and rulers, you shall have mad work ! When every one is a governor, who are the governed? W'hen the multitude, how unable soever, must hear and judge of every cause, both their teachers and others, they need no other employment to follow : this will find them work enough, as it doth to parliament-men to sit, and hear, and speak, and vote.

Is it not strange that so learned a man as Pet. Ramus should be advocate for the multitude's authority in church government ? But

that God must use so sharp a cure for those contentions, as that bloody French massacre, methinks should make England tremble to consider it, lest the same disease here must have the like cure. If an army had tried this popular government but one year among themselves in their military affairs, and had attempted and managed all their designs by the vote of the whole army, I durst have valued their judgments the better ever after in this point.

Woe to the patient that must have a mistaken physician, till he be grown skilful by making experiments upon his diseases ! and woe to the people that are in such hands, as must learn their skill in government from the common calamities only, and from their experience of the sufferings of the people ! This kind of knowledge, I confess, is the thoroughest; but it is pity that so many others should pay so dear for it.

You, therefore, who are the guides of this chariot of Christ, take heed of losing the reins, lest all be overthrown. Alas ! poor England, how are thy bowels torn out, because thy inhabitants, yea, and guides, run all into extremes, like a drunken man that reeleth from side to side, but cannot keep the middle way: nay, they hate a man of peace, who runs not out into their extremes. One party would pluck up the hedge of government, as if the vineyard could not be fruitful, except it lie waste to the pleasure of all the beasts of the forest. They are like the pond that should grudge at the banks and dam, and thinks it injurious to be thus restrained of its liberty, and therefore combine with the winds to raise a tempest, and so assault and break down the banks in their rage : and now where is that peaceable association of waters ? Methinks the enemies of government are just in the case, as I remember, when I was a boy, our school was in, when we had barred out our master. We grudged at our yoke, we longed for our liberty; because it was not given us, we resolved to take it. When we had got out our master, and shut fast the doors, we grew bold, and talked to him at our pleasure : then no one was master, and every one was our master. We spend our time in playing and quarrelling, we treat at last with our master about coming in ; but our liberty was so sweet that we were loth to leave it, and we had run ourselves so deep in guilt, that we durst not trust him, and therefore we resolve to let him in no more: but, in the end, when our play-days, which we called holidays, were over, we were fain to give an account of our boldness, and soundly to be whipped for it, and so to come under the yoke again. Lord, if this be the case of England, let us rather be whipped, and whipped again, than turned out of thy school, and from under thy government.

We feel now how those are mistaken that think the way for the church's unity is, to dig up the banks and let all loose, that every man in religion may do what he list.

On the other side, some men, to escape this Scylla, do fall into the Cliarybdis of violence and formality. They must have all men to walk in fetters, and they must be the makers of them; and ministers must be taught to preach by such gyves as their horses

arc taught to pace. No man must Lc suflPerecl to come into a pulpit, that thinks not or speaks not as they would have hiui: or, if they cannot take away his liberty, they will do what tliey can to blast his reputation. Yet if he cannot have the repute of being orthodox, it were well if they would leave him the reputation of a Christian.

But having, also, a Christianity of their own making, and proper to themselves, they will presently unchristen him, and make him a heretic by proclamation ; as if they had so far the power of the keys, as to lock up the doors of heaven against him, and wipe out his name from the book of life.

It striketh me sometimes into an amazement with admiration, that it shoukl be possible for such mountains of pride to remain in the hearts of many godly, reverend ministers ! That they should no more be conscious of the weakness of their own understandings, but that even in disputable, difHcult things they must be the rule by which all others nmst be judged. So that every man's judgment must be cut meet to the standard of theirs; and whatsoever opinion is either shorter or longer, must be rejected with the scorn of a heresy or an error. Wonderful! that "men who have ever studied divinity should no more discern the profundities, and difficulties, and their own incapacities ! More wonderful, that any disciple of Christ should be such an enemy to knowledge as to resolve they will know no more themselves than is commonly known, nor suffer any other to know more. So that when a man hath read once what is the opinion of the divines that are in most credit, he dare search no further, for fear of being counted a novelist or heretic, or lest he bear their curse for adding to, or taking from, the common conceits ! So that divinity is become an easier study than heretofore. We are already at a vc plus ultra. It seemeth vain, when we know the opinion is in credit, to search any further. We have then nothing to do but easily to study for popular sermons : nor is it safe so much as to make them our own, by looking into and examining their grounds, lest in so doing we should be forced to a dissent: so that scholars may easily be drawn to think that it is better to be at a venture of the common belief, which may be with ease, than to v/eary and .spend themselves in tedious studies, when they are sure, beforehand, of no better reward from men than the reputation of heretics, which is the lot of all that go out of the common road. So that who will hereafter look after any more truth than is known and in credit, except it be some one that is so taken with admiration of it as to cast all his reputation overboard, rather than make shipwreck of his self-prized merchandise ; yet most wonderful it is, that any Christian, especially so many godly ministers, should arrogate to themselves the high prerogatives of God, viz. to be the rule and standard of truth !* I know they will say that Scripture is the rule; but when they must be the peremptory judges of the sense of that Scripture, so that in the

* I speak this only of the guilty, and not of any pious and peaceable divine, of whom England hath many, but useth them so ill that they show themselves unworthy of them.

hardest controversies none must swerve from their sense, upon pain of heing hranded with heresy or error, what is this hut to be the judges themselves, and Scripture but their servant ? The final, full, decisive interpretation of laws, belongeth to none but the lawmakers themselves ; for who can know another man's meaning beyond his expressions, but himself?

And it yet increaseth my wonder that these divines have not forgotten how constantly our divines, that write against the papists, do disclaim any such living, final, decisive judge of controversies, but make Scripture the only judge. Oh ! what mischief hath the church of Christ suffered by the enlarging of her creed ! While it contained but twelve articles, believers were plain, and peaceable, and honest: but a Christian now is not the same thing as then; our heads swell so big, like children that have the rickets, that all the body fares the worse for it. Every new article that was added to the creed, was a new engine to stretch the brains of believers, and in the issue to rend out the bowels of the church.

It never went so well with the church, since it begun, as Erasmus saith of the times of the Nicene council, rem ingeniosam fore Christianum esfse, to be a matter of so much wit and cunning to be a Christian. Not but that all our wit should be here employed, and controversies of difficulty may be debated; but when the decision of these must be put into our creed, and a man must be of the faith that the church is of, it goes hard. Methinks I could read Aquinas, or Scotus, or Bellarmine, with profit, ut pJiiloso-phiam et theologiam liheram ; but when I must make them all parts of my creed, and subscribe to all they say, or else be no catholic, this is hard dealing. I know now we have no Spanish Inquisition to fire us from the truth; but, as Grynaeus was wont to say, Pontijici Ronuino Erasmiim ^)///.9 nocuisse jocando, quam Luiherinn siomachando; so some men's reproaches may do more than other men's persecutions.

And it is not the least aggravation of these men's arrogancy, that they are most violent in the points that they have least studied, or which they are most ignorant in : yea, and that their cruel reproaches are usually so incessant, that where they once fasten, they scarce ever loose again; having learned the old lesson, " To be sure to accuse boldly, for the scar will remain when the wound is healed." Yea, some will not spare the fame of the dead, but when their souls have the happiness of saints with God, their names must have the stain of heresy with men. More ingenuity had Charles the emperor, when the Spanish soldiers would have dug up the bones of Luther: Sinite ipsum, inqiiit, quiescere ad diem resurrectionis et judicium omnium, Sec. Let him rest, saith he, till the resurrection and the final judgment; if he were a heretic he shall have as severe a judge as you can desire.

These are the extremes which poor England groaneth under; and is there no remedy ? Besides the God of peace, there is no remedy. Peace is fled from men's principles and judgments, and therefore it is a stranger to their affections and practices; no

wonder then if it be a stranger in tlie land, both in church and state.

If cither of the forementioned extremes be the way to peace, we may have it, or else where is the man that seeketh after it ? But I remember Luther's oracle, and fear it now to be verified ; Hmc pcrdcnf reliijioiion. C'hrisiiantim : 1. Ohlirio heneficioruDi <tb errtn-gelio acceptorum. 2. Secnritas, qn(C jdin pdssiin cl nbiqiie rcynat. 3. Sapicntia miiHcli, qua vnlt omnia redigcre in ordineni, ct intpi/s mediis cccle.sicc pad consiilerc. Three things will destroy the Christian religion: Fir.st, Forgetfulness of the benefit we received by the gospel. Secondly, Security. Thirdly, The wisdom of the world, which will needs reduce all into order, and look to the church's peace by ungodly means.

The zeal of my spirit after peace, hath made me digress here further than I intended; but the sum and scope of all my speech is this:* Let every conscionable minister study equally for peace and truth, as knowing that they dwell both together in the golden mean, and not at such a distance as most hotspurs do imagine ; and let them believe that they are like to see no more success of their labours, than they are so studious of peace ; and that all wounds will let out both blood and spirits; and both truth and godliness is ready to run out at every breach that shall be made among the people or themselves ; and that the time for the pastures of profession to be green, and for the field of true godliness to grow ripe for the harvest, and for the rose of devotion and heavenliness to be fragrant and flourish, is not in the blustering, stormy, tempestuous winter, but in the calm, delightful summer of peace.

Oh, what abundance of excellent, hopeful fruits of godliness have I seen blown down before they were ripe, by the impetuous winds of wars, and other contentions, and so have lain trodden under foot by libertinism and sensuality, as meat for swine, who else might have been their Master';^ delight ! In a word, I never yet saw the work of the gospel go on well in wars, nor the business of men's salvation succeed among dissensions; but if one have in such times proved a gainer, multitudes have been losers : the same God is the God both of truth and peace ; the same Christ is the Prince of peace, and author of salvation; the same word is the gospel of peace and salvation: both have the same causes ; both are wrought and carried on by the same Spirit; the same persons are the sons of peace

• I would, therefore, advise all ministers that need my advice, to study less those violent writers that care not what they say against their adversaries, so they can disgrace them ; and to read more our solid, moderate, peace-making divines. For, if I have any judgment, these are generally the most knowing and judicious, as well as the most moderate, such as Davenant, Matth. Martinius, Lud. Crocius, Camero, Lud. Capellus, Amiraldus, (yea, and Tcstardus, for all men's hot words,) Pelargus, Paroeus's Eirenicon, Conrad. Bergius, our Dr. Preston, Ball, Parker, Bradshaw, Gataker, Mede, AVotton, with the like ; not to mention all t^e Eirenicons that the German divines have written ; nor Hottonus de Toler. and many others, that have written purposely for pacification. Oh, what a thing is self-love I If men do want peace in their own consciences, or in the humours of their bodies, they can quickly feel it, and think therjiselves undone till they have peace again ; and yet the want of peace in church and state is no trouble to them, but for their own ends and fancies they can delight in divisions. 2 F

and salvation, so inseparably do tliey go hand in hand together: O therefore let us Le the ministers and helpers of our people's peace, as ever we desire to be helpers of their salvation.

And how impossible is it for ministers to maintain peace among their people, if they maintain not peace among themselves ! Oh, what a staggering is it to the faith of the weak, when they see their teachers and leaders at such odds ! It makes them ready to throw away all religion, when they see scarce two or three of the most learned and godly divines of one mind, but like the bitterest enemies, disgracing and vilifying one another, and all because the articles of our faith must be so unlimited, voluminous, and almost infinite ; so that no man well knows when he may call himself an orthodox Christian. When our creed is swelled to the bigness of a national confession, one would think that he that subscribeth to that confession should be orthodox ; and yet if he jump not just with the times in expounding every article of that confession, and run not with the stream in every other point that is in question among them, though he had subscribed to the whole harmony of confessions, he is never the nearer the estimation of orthodox. Were we all bound together by a confession or subscription of the true fundamentals, and those other points that are next to fundamentals only, and there took up our Christianity and unity, yielding each other a freedom of differing in smaller or more difficult points, or in expressing ourselves in different terms, and so did live peaceably and lovingly together notwithstanding such differences, as men that all knew the mysteriousness of divinity, and the imperfection of their own understandings, and that here we know but in part, and therefore shall most certainly err and differ in part; what a world of mischief might this course prevent!

I oft think on the examples of Luther and Melancthon : it was not a few things that they differed in, nor such as would now be accounted small, besides the imperious harshness of Luther's disposition, as Carolostadius could witness; and yet how sweetly, and peaceably, and lovingly did they live together, without any breach or disagreement considerable ! As Mel. Adamus saith of them, Et si temporafuerunt ad disiractionesproclivia, hominumque levitas dissidiorum ciqnda, tamen cum alter alterius vltia nosset, nunquam inter eos simultas extitit, ex qua animorum alienatio suhsecuta sit; so that their agreement arose not hence, that either was free from faults or error, but knowing each other's faults, they did more easily bear them. Certainly if every difference in judgment in matters of religion should seem intolerable, or make a breach in affection, then no two men on earth must live together, or tolerate each other, but every man must resolve to live by himself; for no two on earth but differ in one thing or other, except such as take all their faith upon trust, and explicitly believe nothing at all. God hath not made our judgments all of a complexion, any more than our faces; nor our knowledge all of a size, any more than our bodies ; and methinks men, that be not resolved to be any thing in religion, should be afraid of making the articles of their faith so numerous,-

lest they should shortly become heretics themselves, by disagreeing from themselves ; and they should be afraid of making too strict laws for those that differ in judgment in controvertible points, lest they should shortly change their judgments, and so make a rod for their own backs; for how know they, in difficult, disputable cases, but within these twelve months themselves may be of another mind, except they are resolved never to change, for fear of incurring the reproach of novelty and mutability ; and then they were best resolve to study no more, nor ever to be wiser. I would we knew just at what age a man must receive this principle against changing his judgment ; I am afraid lest at last they should teach it their children, and lest many divines do learn it too young : and if any, besides Christ and his apostles, must be the standard and foundation of our faith, I would we could certainly tell who they are ; for I have heard yet none but the pope, or his general council, expressly lay claim to the prerogative of infallibility; and I think there are few that have appeared more fallible. For my own part, I admire the gifts of God in our first reformers, Luther, Melancthon, Calvin, &c. And I know no man, since the apostles' days, whom I value and honour more than Calvin, and whose judgment, in all things, one with another, I more esteem and come nearer to; though I may speed as Amyraldus, to be thought to defend him but for a defence to his own errors ; but yet if I thought we must needs be in all things of his mind, and know no more in any one point than he did, I should heartily wish that he had lived one fifty years longer, that he might have increased and multiplied his knowledge before he died, and then succeeding ages might have had leave to have grown wiser, till they had attained to know as much as he. Some men can tell what to say in point of ceremonies, common prayer, &c. when they are pressed with the examples and judgments of our first reformers; but in matters of doctrine, they forget their own answers, as if they had been perfect here, and not in the other; or as if doctrinals were not much fuller of mysteries and difficulties than worship. So far am I from speaking all this for the security of myself in my differing from others, that if God would dispense with me for my ministerial services, without any loss to his people, I should leap as lightly as Bishop Ridley, when he was stripped of his pontificalia, and say as Pffidaretus the Laconian, when he was not chosen in numerum trecentorum, Gratias haheo fibi, O Deus, quod tot homines me me-liores hnic civitati dedisti.

But I must stop, and again apologize for this tediousness; though it be true, as Zeno saith, verbis mult is nan er/et Veritas; yet respi-cieiuium etiam (juibusef/eut Icctores, I conclude not with a Laconism, but a Christianism, as hoping my brethren will at least hear their Master, " Have salt in yourselves, and have peace one with another," Mark ix. 50: and Calvin's exposition, which is the sum of all I have said, q. d. Danda est robis opera, non tan turn ut salsi intiis sit is, sed etiavi iit saliatis alios : quia tamen sal acrimonia sua mordet, ideo statim admonet, sic temperandam esse condituram, iit pax interim salva manent. And with R. Meldenius Paraen. fol. f. 2. 2 F 2

Verho dicam: si nos servaremus in necessariis vnitatem, in non ne-cessariis Uhertatem, in titrisque charitatetn ; opiimocerte loco essent res nostras: itajiat. Amen. Inquit Conr. Bergius haec recitans.

Sect. XI. 6. The last whom I would persuade to this great work of helping others to the heavenly rest, is, parents, and masters of families : All you that God hath intrusted with children or servants, O consider what duty lieth on you for the furthering of their salvation. That this exhortation may be the more effectual with you, I will lay down these several considerations for you seriously to think on.

1. What plain and pressing conmiands of God are there that require this great duty at your hand ! " And these words which I command thee this day shall he in thy heart; and thou shalt teach them diligently to thy children, speaking of them when thou sittest in thy house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up," Deut. vi. 6—8. So Deut xi. And how well is God pleased with this in Abraham ! " Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I do ? For I know him, that he will command his children, and his household after him, that they shall keep the way of the Lord," &c. Gen. xviii. 19. And it is Joshua's resolution, " that he and his household will serve the Lord." " Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it," Prov. xxii. (3. " Bring up your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," Eph. vi. 4. Many the like precepts, especially in the book of Proverbs, you may find: so that you see it is a work that the Lord of heaven and earth hath laid upon you, and how then dare you neglect it, and cast it off ?

2. It is a duty that you owe your children in point of justice ; from you they received the defilement and misery of their natures, and therefore you owe them all possible help for their recovery. If you had but hurt a stranger, yea, though against your will, you would think it your duty to help to cure him.

3. Consider, How near your children are to you, and then you will perceive that from this natural relation also they have interest in your utmost help. Your children are, as it were, parts of yourselves ; if they prosper when you are dead, you take it almost as if you lived and prospered in them. If you labour never so much, you think it not ill bestowed, nor your buildings or purchases too dear, so that they may enjoy them when you are dead; and should you not be of the same mind for their everlasting rest ?

4. You will else be witnesses against your own souls; your great care, and pains, and cost for their bodies, will condemn you for your neglect of their precious souls. You can spend yourselves in toiling and caring for their bodies, and even neglect your own souls, and venture them sometimes upon unwarrantable courses, and all to provide for your posterity ; and have you not as much reason to provide for their souls ? Do you not believe that your children must be everlastingly happy or miserable when this life is ended ? and should not that be forethought in the first place ?

5. Yea, all the very brute creatures may condemn you : which

of them is not tender of their young ? How long will the hen sit to hatch her chickens ; and how busily scrape for them ; and how carefully shelter and defend them ! and so will even the most vile and venomous serpent ; and will you be more unnatural and hardhearted than all these ? Will you suffer your children to be ungodly and profane, and run on in the undoubted way to damnation, and let them alone to destroy themselves without control.'

(). Consider, Ciod hath made your children to be your charge ; yea, and your servants too. I'A'ery one will confess they are the minister's charge, and what a dreadful thing it is for them to neglect them, when God hath told them, that if they tell not the wicked of their sin and danger, their blood shall be required at that minister's hands; and is not your charge as great and as dreadful as theirs ? Have not you a greater charge of your own families than any minister hath i Yea, doubtless, and your duty it is to teach, and admonish, and reprove them, and watch over them, and at your hands else God will require the blood of their souls. Tiie greatest charge it is that ever you were intrusted with, and woe to you if you prove unfaithful, and betray your trust, and suffer them to be ignorant for want of your teaching, or wicked for want of your admonition or correction! Oh, sad account, that many parents will make !

7. Look into the dispositions and lives of your children, and see what a work there is for you to do. First, It is not one sin that you must help them against, but thousands; their name is Legion, for they are many. It is not one weed that must be pulled up, but the field is overspread with them. Secondly, And how hard is it to prevail against any one of them ! They are hereditary diseases, bred in their natures : Natnram expcUas /urea, &c. They are as near them as the very heart; and how tenacious are all things of that which is natural ! How hard to teach a hare not to be fearful; or a lion or tiger not to be fierce ! Besides, the things you must teach them are quite above them ; yea, and clean contrary to the interest and desires of their flesh: how hard is it to teach a man to be willing to be poor, and despised, and destroyed here for Christ; to deny themselves, and displease the flesh ; to forgive an enemy ; to love those that hate us; to watch against temptations ; to avoid occasions and appearance of evil ; to believe in a crucified Saviour; to rejoice in tribulation ; to trust upon a bare word of promise, and let go all in hand, if called to it, for something in hope that they never saw, nor ever spake with man that did see; to make God their chief delight and love, and to have their hearts in heaven, while they live on earth! I think none of this is easy ; they that think otherwise, let them try and judge : yet all this must be learned, or tht^y are undone for ever. If you help them not to some trade, they cannot live in the world; but if they be destitute of these things, they shall not live in heaven. If the mariner be not skilful, he may be drowned; and if the soldier be not skilful, he may be slain ; but they that cannot do the things above mentioned, will perish for ever, " for without holiness none shall see

God," Heb. xii. 14. Oh that the Lord would make all you that are parents sensible what a work and charge doth lie upon you! You that neglect this important work, and talk to your families of nothing but the world, 1 tell you the blood of souls lies on you ; make as light of it as you will, if you repent not, and amend, the Lord will shortly call you to an account for your guiltiness of your children's everlasting undoing; and then you that could find in your hearts to neglect the souls of your own children, will be judged more barbarous than the Irish or Turks, that kill the children of others.

8. Consider, also, What a world of sorrows do you prepare for yourselves, by the neglect of your children.

First, You can expect no other but that they should be thorns in your very eyes, and you may thank yourselves if they prove so, seeing they are thorns of your own planting.

Secondly, If you should repent of this your negligence, and be saved yourselves, yet is it nothing to you to think of the damnation of your children ? You know God hath said, " that except they be born again, they shall not enter into the kingdom of God." Me-thinks, then, it should be a heart-breaking to all you that have un-regenerate children; methinks you should weep over them every time you look them in the face, to remember that they are in the way to eternal fire. Some people would lament the fate of their children, if but a wizard should foretell them some ill fortune to befall them ; and do you not regard it when the living God shall tell you, " that the wicked shall be turned into hell, and all they that forget God ?" Psal. ix. 17.

Thirdly, Yet all this were not so doleful to you, if it were a thing that you had no hand in, or could do nothing to help ; but to think that all this is much long of you ! that ever your negligence should bring your child to these everlasting torments, which the very damned man (Luke xvi.) would have had his brethren been warned to escape. If this seem light to thee, thou hast the heart of a hellish fiend in thee, and not of a man.

Fourthly, But yet worse than all this will it prove to you if you die in this sin, for then you shall be miserable as well as they.: and, oh, what a greeting will there be then between ungodly parents and children ! What a hearing will it be to your tormented souls, to hear your children cry out against you: All this that we suffer was long of you; you should have taught us better, and did not; you should have restrained us from sin, and corrected u's, but you did not: and what an addition will such outcries be to your misery!

9. On the other side, do but think with yourselves, what a world of comfort you may have if you be faithful in this duty. First, If you should not succeed, yet you have freed your own souls; and though it be sad, yet not so sad, for you may have peace in your own consciences. Secondly, But if you do succeed, the comfort is unexpressible. For, 1. Godly children will be truly loving to yourselves that are their parents; when a little riches, or matters of this world, will oft make ungodly children to cast off their very

luitural affection. 2. Godly children will be most obedient to you; they dare not disobey and provoke you, because of the command of (lod, except you should command them that which is unlawful, and then they must obey God rather than men. 3. And if you should fall into want, they would b<^ most faithful in relieving you, as knowing they are tied by a double bond, of nature and of grace. 4. And they will also be helpers to your souls, and to your spiritual comforts; they will be delighting you with the mention of heaven, and with holy conference and actions ; when wicked children will be grieving you with cursing, and swearing, or drunkenness, or disobedience. 5. Yea, when you are in trouble, or sickness, and at death, your godly children will be at hand to advise and to support you ; they will strive with God in prayers for you. Oh, what a comfort is it to a parent to have a child that hath the spirit of prayer and interest in God! how much good may they do you by their importunity with God! And what a sadness is it to have children, that when you lie sick, can do no more but ask you how you do, and look on you in your misery ! 6. Yea, all your family may fare the better for one child or servant that feareth God; yea, perhaps all the town where he liveth ; as Joseph's case proveth, and Jacob's, and many the like; when one wicked child may bring a judgment on your house. 7. And if God make you instruments of your children's conversion, you will have a share in all the good that they do through their lives ; all the good they do to their brethren, or to the church of God, and all the honour they bring to God, will redound to your happiness as having been instruments of it. 8. And what a comfort may it be to you all your lives, to think that you shall live with them for ever with God! 9. I3ut the greatest joy will be when you come to the possession of this, and you shall say. Here am I, and the children thou hast given me. And are not all these comforts enough to persuade you to this duty ?

10. Consider, further, that the very welfare of church and state lietli mainly on this duty of well educating children; and without this, all other means are like to be far less successful. I seriously profess to you, that I verily think all the sins and miseries of the land may acknowledge this sin for their great nurse and propagator. Oh, what happy churches might we have, if parents did their duties to their children ! Then we need not exclude so many for ignorance or scandal, nor have our churches composed of members so rude. Then might we spare most of the quarrels about discipline, reformation, toleration, and separation : any reasonable government would do better with a well-taught people, than the best will do with the ungodly. It is not good laws and orders that will reform us, if the men be not good, and reformation begin not at home; when children go wicked from the hands of their parents : thence some come such to the universities, and so we come to have an ungodly ministry; and in every profession they bring this fruit of their education with them. When gentlemen teach their children only to hunt, and hawk, and game, and deride the godly, what

magistrates, and what parliaments, and so what government, and what a commonwealth, are we like to have, when all must be guided by such as these ! Some perverse, inconsiderate persons lay the blame of all this on the ministers, that people of all sorts are so ignorant and profane ; as if one man can do the work of many hundreds. 1 beseech you that are masters and parents, do your own duties, and free ministers from these unjust aspersions, and the church from her reproach and confusion. Have not ministers work enough of their own to do ? Oh that you knew what it is that lieth on them ! And if, besides this, you will cast upon them the work of every master and parent in the parish, it is like, indeed, to be well done. How many sorts of workmen must there be to the building of a house ! And if all of them should cast it upon one, and themselves do nothing, you may judge how much were like to be done. If there be three or four schoolmasters in a school, amongst three or four hundred scholars, and all the lower that should fit them for the higher schools, should do nothing at all but send all these scholars to the highest schoolmaster as ignorant as they received them, would not his life be a burden to him, and all the w^ork be frustrated and spoiled i Why, so it is here. The first work towards the reforming and making happy of church and commonwealth, lies in the good education of your children ; the most of this is your work; and if this be left undone, and then they come to ministers raw and ignorant, and hardened in their sins, alas ! what can a minister do ? Whereas, if they came trained up in the principles of religion, and the practice of godliness, and were taught the fear of God in their youth, oh what an encouragement would it be to ministers! and how would the work go on in our hands ! I tell you seriously, this is the cause of all our miseries and unreformedness in church and state, even the want of a holy education of children. Many lay the blame on this neglect and that, but there is none hath so great a hand in it as this. What a school must there needs be where all are brought raw, as I said, to the highest form ! What a house must there needs be built, when clay is bi'ought to the mason's hands instead of bricks ! What a commonwealth may be expected if all the constables and justices should do nothing, but cast all upon king and parliament! And so, what a church may we expect, when all the parents and masters in the parish shall cast all their duty on their ministers ! Alas! how long may we catechise them, and preach to them, before we can get them to understand the very principles of the faith ! This, this is the cause of our church's deformities, and this is the cause of the present difficulty of reformation. It is in vain to contend about orders and discipline if the persons that live under it be not prepared. Perhaps you will say. The apostles had not their hearers thus prepared to their hands. Is not the word the first means of conversion ?

Answ. 1. The apostles preached to none at first but infidels and pagans. And are you no better ? Will you do no more for your children than they ?

2. All the success of their labours was to gather here and there a church from among the world of unbelievers. But now, the kingdoms of the world are become the kingdoms of the Lord and his Christ.

3. And yet the apostles were extraordinarily qualified for the work, and seconded it by miracles for the convincing of their hearers.

4. I do verily believe that if parents did their duty as they ought, the word publicly preached would not be the ordinary means of regeneration in the church, but only without the church, among infidels. Not that I believe Doctor Burgess and Mr. Bedford's doctrine of baptismal regeneration. But God would pour out his grace upon the children of his people, and hear prayers for them, and bless such endeavours for their holy education, that we should see the promises made good to our seed; and the unthankful Anabaptists, that will not confess that the children of the saints are any nearer God, or more beholden to him, than pagans, so much as for the favour to be visible church members, should, by sweet experience, be convinced of their error, and be taught better how to understand that our children are holy,

11. I entreat you that are parents, also to consider what excellent advantages you have above all others for the saving of your children.

1. They are under your hands while they are young, and tender, and flexible ; but they come to ministers when they are grown elder, and stilFer, and settled in their ways, and think themselves too good to be catechised, and too old to be taught. You have a twig to bend, and we an oak. You have the young plants of sin to pluck up, and we the deep-rooted vices. The consciences of children are not so seared with a custom of sinning and long resisting grace, as others. You have the soft and tender earth to plough in, and we have the hard and stony ways, that have been trodden on by many years' practice of evil. When they are young, their understandings are like a sheet of white paper, that hath nothing wn-itten on, and so you have opportunity to write what you will. But when they are grown up in sin, they are like the same paper written over with falsehoods, which must all be blotted out again, and truth written in the place. And how hard is that! We have a double task ; first to unteach them, and then to teach them better; but you have but one. We must unteach them all that the world, and flesh, and wicked company, and the devil, have been diligently teaching them in many years' time. We have hardened hearts to beat on, like a smith's anvil, that will not feel us ; we may tell them of death and judgment, heaven and hell, and they hear us as if they were asleep or dead : you have the soft clay to mould, and we have the hardened burned bricks. You have them before they are possessed with prejudice and false conceits against the truth, but we have them to teach w'hcn they have many years lived among those that have scorned at godliness, and taught them to think God's ways to be foolish preciseness. Custom hath not insnared and engaged our little ones to contrary ways, but of old sinners, the Lord himself

hath said, " that if the Ethiopian can change his skin, and the leopard his spots, then may those that are accustomed to do evil, learn to do well," Jer. xiii. 23. Doth not the experience of all the world show you the power of education ? What else makes all the children of the Jews to be Jews ; and all the children of the Turks to he Mahometans; and of Christians to he in profession Christians ; and of each sect or party in religion to follow their parents, and the custom of the place ? Why now, what an advantage have you to use all this for the furtherance of their happiness, and possess them as strongly beforehand against sin, as else Satan would do for it; and so Satan should come to them upon some of those disadvantages that now Christ comes on.

2. Considei-, also, that you have the affections of your children more than any others. None in the world hath that interest in their hearts as you. You will receive that counsel from an undoubted friend, that you would not do from an enemy, or a stranger. W'hy now, your children cannot choose but know that you are their friends, and advise them in love; and they cannot choose but love you again. Their love is loose and arbitrary to others, but to you it is determinate and fast. Nature hath almost necessitated them to love you. O, therefore, improve this your interest in them for their good.

3. You have also the greatest authority over them. You may command them, and they dare not disobey you ; or else it is your own fault, for the most part, for you can make them obey you in your business in the world ; yea, you may correct them to enforce obedience. Your authority also is the most unquestioned authority in the world. The authority of kings and parliaments has been disputed, but yours is past dispute. And therefore, if you use it not to constrain them to the works of God, you are without excuse.

4. J3esides, their whole dependence is on you for their maintenance and livelihood. They know you can either give them or deny them what you have, and so punish and reward them at your pleasure. But on ministers or neighbours they have no such dependence.

5. Moreover, you that are parents know the temper and inclinations of your children, what vices they are most inclined to, and what instruction or reproof they most need; but ministers that live more strange to them, cannot know this.

6. Above all, you are ever with them, and so have opportunity as to know their faults, so fo apply the remedy. You may be still talking to them of the word of God, and minding them of their state and duty, and may follow and set home every word of advice, as they are in the house with you, or in the shop, or in the field at work. Oh, what an excellent advantage is this, if God do but give you hearts to use it! Especially you, mothers, remember this ; you are more with your children while they are little ones than their fathers, be you therefore, still teaching them as soon as ever they are capable of learning. You cannot do God such eminent service yourselves as men, but you may train up children that may do it.

and then you will have part of the comfort and honour. Bathsheba liad part of the honour of Solomon's wisdom, l-*rov. xxxi. 1, for she tauj^ht him ; and Timothy's mother and grandmother, of his piety. Plutarch speaks of a Spartan woman, that when lier neighbours were showing their apparel and jewels, she brought out her children virtuous and w(>ll taught, and said, " These are my ornaments and jewels." Oh, how much more will this adorn you than your bravery ! What a deal of pains you are at with the i)odies of your children more than the fathers, and what do you suffer to bring them into the world ! and will not you be at as nmch pains for the saving their souls .** You are naturally of more tender affections than men; and will it not move you to think that your children should perish for ever ? O, therefore, I beseech you, for the sake of the children of your bowels, teach them, admonish them, watch over them, and give them no rest till you have brought them over to Christ.

And thus I have showed you reason enough to make you diligent in teaching your children, if reason will serve, as methinks among reasonable creatures it should do.

Sect. XII. Let us next hear what is usually objected against this by negligent men.

Object. 1. We do not see but those children prove as bad as others that are taught the Scriptures, and brought up so holily; and those prove as honest men and good neighbours, that have none of this ado with them.

Ansic. O, who art thou, man, that disputest against God ? Hath God charged you to teach your children diligently his word, speaking of it as yqjj sit at home, and as you walk abroad, as you lie down, and as you rise up, Deut. vi. G—8, and dare you reply that it is as good let it alone ? Why, this is to set God at defiance, and, as it were, to spit in his face, and give him the lie. AVill you take it well at your servants, if, when you command them to do a thing, they should return you such an answer that they do not see but it were as good let alone .'' Wretched worm ! darest thou thus lift up thy head against the Lord that made thee, and must judge thee .^ Is it not he that commandeth thee ? If thou dost not believe that this Scripture is the word of God, thou dost not believe in Jesus Christ; for thou hast nothing else to tell thee that there is a Christ. And if thou do believe that this is his word, how darest thou say, It is as good disobey it ? This is devilish pride indeed when such sottish, sinful dust shall think themselves wiser than the living God, and take upon them to reprove and cancel his word.

2. But, alas! you know not what honesty is when you say that the ignorant are as honest as others. You think those are the honestest men that best please you, but I know those are the most honest that best please God. Christ saith, in Luke viii. 15, that an honest heart is that which keepeth the word of God; and you say, they are as honest that reject it. God made men to please himself, and not to please you ; and you may know by his laws who

please him best. The commandments have two tables, and the lirst is, " Thoii shalt love the Lord with all thy heart;" and the second, " Thou shait love thy neighbour as thyself." First seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness. Matt. vi. 33.

3. And what if some prove naught that are well brought up ? it is not the generality of them. Will you say that Noah's family was no better than the drowned world, because there was one Ham in it; nor David's, because there was one Absalom ; nor Christ's, because there was one Judas ?

4. But what if it were so : have men need of the less teaching, or the more ? You have more wit in the matters of this world. You will not say, I see many labour hard, and yet are poor, therefore it is as good never labour at all. You will not say, Many that go to school learn nothing, and therefore they may learn as much though they never go : or many that are great tradesmen break, and therefore it is as good never trade at all: or many great eaters are as lean as others, and many sick men recover no strength though they eat, and therefore it is as good for men never to eat more : or many plough and sow, and have nothing come up, and therefore it is as good never to plough more. What a fool were he that should reason thus ! And is not he a thousand times worse that shall reason thus for men's souls ? Peter reasons the clean contrary way, " If the righteous be scarcely saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear ?" 1 Pet. iv. 18. And so doth Christ, " Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many shall seek to enter, and not be able," Luke xiii. 24. Other men's miscarriages should quicken our diligence, and not make us cast away all. What would you think of that man that should look over into^is neighbour's garden, and because he sees here and there a nettle or weed among much better stuff, should say, Why you may see these men that bestow so much pains in digging and weeding, have weeds in their garden as well as I that do nothing, and therefore who would be at so much pains ? Just thus doth the mad world talk ; You may see now that those that pray, and read, and follow sermons, have their faults as well as we, and have wicked persons among them as well as we. Yea, but that is not the whole garden, as yours is ; it is but here and there a weed, and as soon as they spy it, they pluck it up, and cast it away.

But, however, if such men be as wicked as you imagine, can you for shame lay the fault upon the Scripture, or ordinances of God ? Do they find any thing in the Scriptures to encourage them to sin? You may far better say. It is long of the judge and the law which hangs them, that there are so many thieves. Did you ever read a word for sin in the Scripture ; or ever hear a minister or godly man persuade people to sin, or from it rather ? I speak not of sectaries, who usually grow to be enemies to Scripture. Lord, what horrible impudence is in the faces of ungodly men I when a minister hath spent himself in studying and persuading his people from sin, or when parents have done all they can to reform their children, yet people will say. It is long of this that they are so bad. What ! will

reproving and correcting for sin bring them soonest to it ? I dare challenge any man breathing, to name any one ruler that ever was in the world, that was so severe against sin as Jrsus Christ; or to show me any law that ever was made in the world so severe against sin as the laws of God. And yet it nmst be long of Christ and Scripture that men are evil! When he threateneth damnation against impenitent sinners, is it yet long of him .' Yea, see how these wicked men contradict themselves. \Vhat is it that they hate the Scripture for, but that it is so strict and precise, and forbids them their pleasures and fleshly liberties, that is, their sins ? And yet if any fall into sin, they will blame the Scripture, that forbids it. I know in these late years of licentiousness and apostasy, many that talk much of religion, prove guilty of grievous crimes, but then they turn away so far from Christ and Scripture. As bad as the godly are, I dare yet challenge you to show me any society under heaven like them that most study and delight in the Scriptures ; or any school, like the scholars of Christ. Because parents cannot, by all their diligence, get their children to be as good as they should be, shall they therefore leave them to be as bad as they will { Because they cannot get them to be perfect saints, shall they therefore leave them to be as incarnate devils ? Certainly, your children untaught will be little better.

Sect. XIII. Ohject. 2. Some will further object, and say. It is the work of ministers to teach both us and our children, and therefore we may be excused.

Answ. 1. It is first your duty, and then the ministers'; it will be no excuse for you, because it is their work, except you could prove it were only theirs. Magistrates must govern both you and your children : doth it therefore follow that you must not govern them ? It belongs to the schoolmaster to correct them, and doth it not belong also to you .'' There must go many hands to this great work, as to the building of a house there must be many workmen, one to one part, and another to another: and as your corn must go through many hands before it be bread ; the reaper's, the thresher's, the miller's, the baker's ; and one must not leave their part, and say. It belongs to the other: so it is here in instructing of your children; first you must do your work, and then the minister must do his : you must be doing it privately night and day ; the minister must do it publicly, and privately as oft as he can.

2. But as the case now stands with the ministers of England, they are disabled from doing that which belongs to their office, and therefore you cannot now cast your work on them. I will instance ])ut in two things. First, It belongs to their office to govern the church, and to teach with authority ; and great and small are commanded to obey them, Heb. iii. 7, 17, &c. But now this is unknown, and hearers look on themselves as freemen, that may obey or not, at their own pleasure : a parent's teaching which is with authority, will take more than one's that is taken to have none : people think we have authority to speak to them when they please to hear, and no more. Nay, few of the godly themselves do under-

stand the authority that their teachers have over them from Christ: they know how to value a minister's gifts, but not how they are bound to learn of him and obey him because of his office. Not that they should obey him in evil, nor that he should be a final decider of all controversies, nor should exercise his authority in things of no moment; but as a schoolmaster may command his scholars when to come to school, and what book to read, and what form to be of; and as they ought to obey him, and to learn of him, and not to set their wits against his, but to take his word, and believe him as their teacher, till they understand as well he, and are ready to leave his school; just so are people bound to obey and learn of their teachers, and to take their words while they are learners, in that which is beyond their present capacity, till they are able to see things in their proper evidence. Now this ministerial authority is unknown, and so ministers are the less capable of doing their work ; which comes to pass. First, From the pride of man's nature, especially novices, which makes men impatient of the reins of guidance and command. Secondly, From the popish error of implicit faith; to avoid which we are driven as far into the contrary extreme. Thirdly, And from the modesty of ministers that are loth to show their commission, and make known their authority, lest they should be thought proud : as if a schoolmaster should let his scholars do what they list, or a pilot let the seamen run the ship whither they will, for fear of being thought proud in exercising their authority. Secondly, But a far greater clog than this yet doth lie upon the ministers, which few take notice of; and that is, the fewness of ministers, and the greatness of congregations. In the apostles' time every church had a multitude of ministers ; and so it must be again, or we shall never come near that primitive pattern; and then they could preach publicly, and from house to house. But now, when there is but one or two ministers to many thousand souls, we cannot so much as know them, much less teach them one by one : it is as much as we can do to discharge the public work. So that you see, you have little reason to cast your work on the ministers, but should the more help them by your diligence, in your several families, because they are already so over-burdened.

Sect, XIV, Object. 3. But some will say. We are poor men, and must labour for our living, and so must our children, and cannot have while to teach them the Scriptures, we have somewhat else for them to do.

Answ. And are not poor men subject to God, as well as rich ; and are they not Christians ; and must they not give account of their ways ; and have not your children souls to save or lose, as well as the rich ? Cannot you have while to speak to them as they are at their work ? Have you not time to instruct them on the Lord's day ? You can find time to talk idly, as poor as you are, and can you find no time to talk of the way to life ? You can find time on the Lord's day for your children to play, or walk or talk in the streets, but no time to mind the life to come. Methinks you

should rather say to your children, I have no lands or lordships to leave you, nothing but hard labour antl poverty in the world ; you have no hope oi"great matters here; be sure therefore to make the Lord your portion, and to git interest in Christ, that you may be happy hereafter : if you could get riches, they would shortly leave you, but the riches of grace and glory will be everlasting. Me-thinks you should say as Peter, " Silvcn- and gold I have none, but such as I have I give you." The kingdoms of the world cannot be had by beggars, but the kingdom of heaven may. Oh what a terrible rt>ckoning will many poor men have, when Christ shall plead his cause, and judge them ! May not he say, I made the way to worldly honours inaccessible to you, that you might not look after it for yourselves or your children, but heaven 1 set open, that you might have nothing to discourage you ; I confined riches and honour to a few, but my blood and salvation I offered to all, that none may say, I was not invited; I tendered heaven to the poor, as well as the rich ; I made no exception against the meanest beggar, that did not wilfully shut out themselves : why then did you not come yourselves, and bring your children, and teach them the way to the eternal inheritance ? Do you say, you were poor ? Why, I did not set heaven to sale for money, but 1 called those that had nothing, to take it freely ; only on condition they would take me for their Saviour and Lord, and give up themselves unfeignedly to me in obedience and love. What can you answer Christ, when he shall thus convince you ? It is not enough, that your children are poor and miserable here, but you would have them be worse for everlasting too! If your children were beggars, yet if they were such beggars as Lazarus, they may be conveyed by angels into the presence of God. But believe it, as God will save no man because he is a gentleman, so will he save no man because he is a beggar. God hath so ordered it in his providence, that riches are exceeding occasions of men's damnation, and will you think poverty a sufficient excuse ? The hardest point in all our work is to be weaned from the world, and in love with heaven ; and if you will not be weaned from it, who have nothing in it but labour and sorrow, you have no excuse. The poor cannot have while, and the rich will not have while, or they are ashamed to be so forward : the young think it too soon, and the old too late : and thus most men, instead of being saved, have somewhat to say against their salvation; and when Christ sendeth to invite them, they say, I pray thee have me excused. O unworthy guests of such a blessed feast, and most worthy to be turned into the everlasting burnings !

Sect. XV. Object. 4. But some will object, We have been brought up in ignorance ourselves, and therefore we are unable to teach our children.

Ahsiv. Indeed this is the very sore of the land : but is it not pity that men should so receive their destruction by tradition ? W'ould you have this course to go on thus still .' Your parents did not teach you, and therefore you cannot teach your children, and therefore they cannot teach theirs : by this course the knowledge of God

should be banished out of the world, and never be recovered. But if your parents did not teach you, why did not you learn when you came to age ? The truth is, you had no hearts to it; for he that hath not knowledge, cannot value it, or love it. But yet, though you have greatly sinned, it is not too late, if you will but follow my faithful advice in these four points :

1. Get your hearts deeply sensible of your own sin and misery, because of this long time which you have spent in ignorance and neglect. Bethink yourselves sometimes when you are alone ; did not God make you, and sustain you for his service ? Should not he have had the youth and strength of your spirits ? Did you live all this while at the door of eternity ? What if you had died in ignorance, where had you been then ? What a deal of time have you spent to little purpose ! Your life is near done, and your work all undone. You are ready to die, before you have learned to live. Should not God have had a better share of your lives, and your souls been more duly regarded and provided for ? In the midst of these thoughts, cast down yourselves in sorrow, as at the feet of Christ; bewail your -folly, and beg pardon and recovering grace.

2. Then think as seriously how you have wronged your children : if an unthrift, that hath sold all his lands, will lament it for his children's sake, as well as his own, much more should you.

3. Next set presently to work, and learn yourselves. If you can read, do; if you cannot, get some that can ; and be much among those that will instruct and help you : be not ashamed to be seen among learners, though it be to be catechised, but be ashamed that you had not learned sooner. God forbid you should be so mad, as to say, I am now too old to learn: except you be too old to serve God, and be saved, how can you be too old to learn to be saved ? Why not rather, I am too old to serve the devil and the world, I have tried them too long to trust them any more. What if your parents had not taught you any trade to live by; or what if they had never taught you to speak ; would not you have set yourselves to learn, when you had come to age ? Remember, that you have souls to care for, as well as your children, and therefore first begin with yourselves.

4. In the mean time, while you are learning yourselves, teach your children what you do know ; and what you cannot teach them yourselves, put them on to learn it of others that can : persuade them into the company of the godly, who will be glad to instruct them. If Frenchmen or Welchmen lived in the town among us, that could not understand our language, would they not converse with those that do understand it ? and would they not daily send their children to learn it, by being in the company of those that speak it ? So do you, that you may learn the heavenly language : get among those that use it, and encourage your children to do so. Have you no godly neighbours that will be helpful to you herein ? O do not keep yourselves, strange to them, but go among them, and desire their help; and be thankful to them, that they will entertain you into their company. God forbid you should be like those that

Christ speaks of, Luke xi. 52, that would neither enter into the kingdom of God iheinsolves, nor suifer those that would to enter, (jiod forl)id you should be such cruel, barbarous wretches, as to hinder your children from being godly, and to teach them to be wicked ! And yet, alas ! how many such are there swarming every where among us ! If God do but touch the heart of their children or servants, and cause them to hear and read the word, and call upon him, and accompany with the godly, who will sooner scorn them, and revile them, and discourage them, than an ungodly parent.' What, say they, you will now be one of the holy brethren! you will be wiser than your parents ! Just such as Pharaoh was to the Israelites, such are these wicked wretches to their own children : Kxod. v. 3, 8, 9, when Moses said, " Let us go sacrifice to the Lord, lest he fall upon us with pestilence or sword," &c. Pharaoh answers, " They are idle, therefore they say. Let us go sacrifice : lay more work upon them," &c. Just so do these people say to their children. You know Pharaoh was the representer of the devil ; and yet let me tell you, these ungodly parents are far worse than Pharaoh : for the children of Israel were many thousands, and were to go three days' journey out of the land, but these men hinder their children from serving God at home : Pharaoh was not their father, but their king; but these men are enemies to the children of their bodies. Nay, more, let me tell you, I know none on earth that play the part of the devil himself more truly than thes6 men. And if any thing that walks in flesh may be called a devil, I think it is a parent that thus hindereth his children from salvation. I solemnly profess I do not speak one jot worse of these men, than I do think and verily believe in my soul: nay, take it how you will, I will say thus much more, I verily think that in this they are far worse than the devil. God is a righteous judge, and will not make the devil himself worse than he is : I pray you be patient while you consider it, and then judge yourselves. They are the parents of their children, and so is not the devil. Do you think then that it is as great a fault in him to seek their destruction, as in them ? Is it as great a fault for the wolf to kill the lambs as for their own dams to do it ? Is it so horrid a fault for an enemy in war to kill a child, or for a bear or a mad dog to kill it, as for the mother to dash its brains against the wall ? You know it is not: do not you think then that it is so hateful a thing in Satan to entice your children to sin and hell, and to discourage and dissuade them from holiness and from heaven, as it is in you. You are bound to love them by nature, more than Satan is. Oh then what people are those that will teach their children instead of holiness, to curse, and 5wear, and rail, and backbite, to be proud and revengeful, to break the Lord's day, and to despise his ways, to speak wantonly and filthily, to scorn at holiness, and glory in sin ! Oh when God .shall ask these children. Where learned you this language and practice ? and they shall say, I learned it of my father or mother; 1 would not be in the case of those parents for all the world ! Alas, is it a work that is worth the teaching, to undo themselves for

ever? Or can they not without teaching learn it too easily of themselves ? Do you need to teach a serpent to sting, or a lion to be fierce ? Do you need to sow weeds in your garden ? will they not grow of themselves ? To build a house requires skill and teaching ; but a little may serve to set a town on fire. To heal the wounded or the sick, requireth skill; but to make a man sick, or to kill him, requireth but little. You may sooner teach your children to swear, than to pray ; and to mock at godliness, than to be truly godly. If these parents were sworn enemies to their children, and should study seven years how to do them the greatest mischief, they could not possibly find out a surer way, than by drawing them to sin, and withdrawing them from God.

Sect. XVT. I shall therefore conclude with this earnest request to all Christian parents that read these lines, that they would have compassion on the souls of their poor children, and be faithful to the great trust that God hath put in them. O sirs, if you cannot do what you would do for them, yet do what you can : both church and state, city and country, do groan under the neglect of this weighty duty ; your children know not God, nor his laws, but take his name in vain, and slight his worship, and you do neither instruct them nor correct them ; and therefore doth God correct both them and you. You are so tender of them that God is the less tender both of them and you. Wonder not if God make you smart for your children's sins ; for you are guilty of all they commit, by your neglect of doing your duty to reform them; even as he that maketh a man drunk, is guilty of all the sin that he committeth in his drunkenness. Will you resolve therefore to set upon this duty, and neglect it no longer? Remember Eli. Your children are like Moses in the basket in the water, ready to perish if they have not help. As ever you would not be charged before God for murderers of their souls, and as ever you would not have them cry out against you in everlasting fire, see that you teach them how to escape it, and bring them up in holiness and the fear of God. You have heard that the God of heaven doth flatly command it you; I charge every one of you, therefore, upon your allegiance to him, as you will very shortly answer the contrary at your peril, that you neither refuse nor neglect this most necessai-y work. If you are not willing, now you know it to be so plain and so great a duty, you are flat rebels, and no true subjects of- Christ. If you are willing to do it, but know not how, I will add a few words of direction to help you. 1. Teach them by your own example, as well as by your words. Be yourselves such as you would have them be : practice is the most effectual teaching of children, who are addicted to imitation, especially of their parents. Lead them the way to prayer, and reading, and other duties : be not like base commanders, that will put on their soldiers, but not go on themselves. Can you expect your children should be wiser or better than you ? Let them not hear those words out of your mouths, nor s<ee those practices in your lives, which you reprove in them. No man shall be saved because his children are godly, if he be ungodly himself. Who should lead the way in holiness, but the father and master of the

family ? It is a sad time when he must be accounted a good master or father tliat will not hinder his family from serving God, but will give them leave to go to heaven without him.

I will but name the rest of your direct duty for your family. 1. You must help to inform their understandings. 2. To store their memories. 3. To rectify their wills. 4. To quicken their affections. 5. To keep tender their consciences. G. To restrain their tongues, and help them to skill in gracious speech ; and to reform and watch over their outward conversation.

To these ends, I. Be sure to keep them, at least, so long at school till they can read English. It is a thousand pities that a reasonable creature should look upon a Bible as upon a stone, or a piece of wood. 2. Get them Bibles and good books, and see that they read them. 3. Examine them often what they learn. 4. Especially bestow the Lord's day in this work, and see that they spend it not in sports or idleness. 5. Show them the meaning of what they read and learn. Josh. iv. G, 21, 22; Psal. Ixxviii. 4—G ; xxxiv. 11. G. Acquaint them with the godly, and keep them in good company, where they may learn good, and keep them out of that company that would teach them evil. 7. Be sure to cause them to learn some catechism containing the chief heads of divinity.

Sect. XVII. The heads of divinity, which you must teach them first, are these :

I. That there is one only God, who is a Spirit invisible, infinite, eternal, almighty, good, merciful, true, just, holy, &c. 2. That this God is one in three. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. 3. That he is the Maker, Maintainer, and Lord of all. 4. That man's happiness consisteth in the enjoying of this God, and not in fleshly pleasure, profits, or honours. 5. That God made the first man upright and happy, and gave him a law to keep, with condition, that if he kept it perfectly, he should live happy for ever, but if he broke it he should die. G. That man broke this law, and so forfeited his welfare, and became guilty of death as to himself and all his posterity. 7. That Christ the Son of God did here interpose, and prevent the full execution, undertaking to die instead of man, and so to redeem him ; whereupon all things were delivered into his hands as the Redeemer, and he is under that relation the Lord of all. 8. That Christ hereupon did make with man a better covenant or law, which proclaimed pardon of sin to all that did but repent, and believe, and obey sincerely. 9. That he revealed this covenant and mercy to the world by degrees; first, in darker promises, prophecies, and sacrifices ; then, in many ceremonious types ; and then, by more plain foretelling by the prophets. 10. That in the fulness of time Christ came and took our nature into union with his Godhead, being conceived by the Holy Ghost, and born of the Virgin Mary. 11. That while he was on earth he lived a life of sorrows, was crowned with thorns, and bore the pains that our sins desen'ed ; at last, being crucified to death, and buried, so satisfied the justice of God. 12. That he also preached himself to the Jews, and by constant miracles did prove the truth of his 2 G 2

doctrine and mediatorship before thousands of witnesses : that he revealed more fully his new law or covenant; that whosoever will believe in him, and accept him for Saviour and Lord, shall be pardoned and saved, and have a far greater glory than they lost; and they that will not, shall lie under the curse and guilt, and be condemned to the everlasting fire of hell. 13. That he rose again from the dead, having conquered death, and took fuller possession of his dominion over all, and so ascended up into heaven, and there reigneth in glory. 14. That before his ascension he gave charge to his apostles to preach the foresaid gospel to all nations and persons, and to offer Christ, and mercy, and life, to every one without exception, and to entreat and persuade them to receive him ; and that he gave them authority to send forth others on the same message, and to baptize, and to gather churches, and confirm and order them, and settle a course for a succession of ministers and ordinances to the end of the world. 15. That he also gave them power to work frequent and evident miracles for the confirmation of their doctrine, and the convincing of the world; and to annex their writings to the rest of the Scriptures, and so to finish and seal them up, and deliver them to the world as his infallible word and laws, which none must dare to alter, and which all must observe. 16. That though his free grace is offered to the world, yet the heart is by nature so desperately wicked, that no man will believe and entertain Christ sincerely, except by an almighty power he be changed and born again ; and therefore doth Christ send forth his Spirit with his word, which secretly and effectually work-eth holiness in the hearts of the elect, drawing them to God and the Redeemer. 17. That the means by which Christ worketh and preserveth this grace, is the word read and preached, together with frequent fervent prayer, meditation, sacraments, gracious conference ; and it is much furthered also by special providences keeping us from temptation, fitting occurrences to our advantage, drawing us by mercies, and driving us by afflictions; and therefore it must be the great and daily care of every Christian to use faithfully all the said ordinances, and improve the said providences. 18. That though the new law or covenant be an easy yoke, and there is nothing grievous in Christ's commands, yet so bad are our hearts, and so strong our temptations, and so diligent our enemies, that whosoever will be saved, he must strive, and watch, and bestow his utmost care and pains, and deny his flesh, and forsake all that would draw him from Christ, and herein continue to the end, and overcome. And because this cannot be done without continual supplies of grace, whereof Christ is the only fountain, therefore we must live in continual dependence on him by faith, and know that our life is hid with God in him. 19. That Christ will thus by his word and Spirit gather him a church of all the elect out of the world, which is his body and spouse, and he their Head and Husband, and will be tender of them as the apple of his eyes, and preserve them from danger, and continue among them his presence and ordinances ; and that the members of this church must live together in most entire love and peace, delighting themselves in God and his

worship, and the forethoughtis and mention of their everhisting happiness ; forliearing and forgiving one another, and relieving each other in need, as if that which they have were their brother's. And all men ought to strive to be of this society. Yet will the visible churches be still mixed of good and bad. 20. That when the full number of these elect are called home, Christ will come down from heaven again, and raise all the dead, and set them before him to be judged; and all that have loved God above all, and believed in Christ, and been willing that he should reign over them, and have improved their mercies in the day of grace, them he will justify, and sentence them to inherit the everlasting kingdom of glory ; and those that were not such, he will condenm to everlasting fire ; both which sentences shall be then executed accordingly.

This is the creed, or brief sum, of the doctrine which you must teach your children. Though our ordinary creed, called the apostles' creed, contains all the al)Solute fundamentals ; yet in some it is so generally and darkly expressed, that an explication is necessary.

Sect. XVm. Then, for matter of practice, teach them the meaning of the commandments, especially of the great commands of the gospel; show them what is commanded and forbidden, in the first table and in the second, towards God and men, in regard of the inward and the outward man : and here show them, 1. The authority commanding; that is, the Almighty God, by Christ the Redeemer. They are not now to Igok at the command as coming from God immediately, merely as God, or the Creator, but as coming from God by Christ the Mediator, who is now the Lord of all, and only Lawgiver; seeing the Father now judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment to the Son, John v. 21—24. 2. Show them the terms on which duty is required, and the ends of it, 3. And the nature of duties, and the way to perform them aright. 4. And the right order; that they first love God above all, and then their neighbour: first seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness. 5. Show them the excellences and delights of God's service. G. And the flat necessity. 7. Especially labour to get all to their hearts, and teach them not only to speak the words.

And for sin, show them its evil and danger, and watch over them against it. Especially, 1. The sins that youth is commonly addicted to. 2. And which their nature and constitution most lead them to. 3. And which the time and place do most strongly tempt to. 4. But especially be sure to kill their killing sins ; those that all are prone to, and are of all most deadly : as, pride, worldliness, ignorance, profaneness, and flesh-pleasing.

And for the manner, you must do all this, I. Betimes, before sin get rooting. 2. Frequently. 3. Seasonably. 4. Seriously and diligently. 5. Affectionately and tenderly. G. And with authority ; compelling where commanding will not serve, and adding correction where instruction is frustrate.

And thus I have done with the use of exhortation to do our utmost for the salvation of others. The Lord give men compassionate hearts that it may be jiractised; and then, I doubt not but he will succeed it to the increase of his church.

PAKT IV.

CONTAINING

A DIRECTORY FOR THE GETTING AND KEEPING OF THE HEART IN HEAVEN,

BY THE DILIGENT PRACTICE OF THAT EXCELLENT UNKNOWN DUTY OF HEAVENLY MEDITATION. BEING THE MAIN THING INTENDED BY THE AUTHOR IN THE WRITING OF THIS BOOK, AND TO WHICH ALL THE REST IS BUT SUBSERVIENT.

CHAPTER I.

THE SIXTH USE. REPROVING OUR EXPECTATIONS OF REST ON EARTH,

Sect. I. Doth this rest remain ? How great, then, is our sin and folly to seek and expect it here ! Where shall we find the Christian that deserves not this reproof? Surely we may all cry Guilty ! to this accusation. We know not how to enjoy convenient houses, goods, lands, and revenues, but we seek rest in these enjoyments. We seldom, I fear, have such sweet and heart-contenting thoughts of God and glory, as we have of our earthly delights. How much rest do the voluptuous seek, in buildings, walks, apparel, ease, recreation, sleep, pleasing meats and drinks, merry company, health and strength, and long life ! Nay, we can scarce enjoy the necessary means which God hath appointed for our spiritual good, but we are seeking rest in them. Do we want ministers, godly society, or the like helps ? Oh ! think we, if it were but thus and thus with us, we were well. Do we enjoy them?* Oh, how we settle upon them, and bless ourselves in them, as the rich fool in his wealth! Our books, our preachers, sermons, friends, abilities for duty, do not our hearts hug them, and quiet themselves in them, even more than in God ? Indeed, in words we disclaim it, and God hath usually the pre-eminence in our tongues and professions; but it is too apparent that it is otherwise in our hearts, by these discoveries : First, Do we not desire these more violently, when we want them, than we do the Lord himself? Do we not cry out more sensibly, O my friend, my goods, my health, than O my God ! Do we not miss ministry and means more passionately than we miss our God ? Do we not bestir ourselves more to obtain and enjoy these than we do to recover our communion with God ? Secondly, Do we not delight more in the possession of these than we do in the fruition of God himself? Nay, be not those mercies and duties

* These must be delighted in, but as means only to help us to God, not as a happiness to content us without God.

most pleasant to u.s, wherein we stand at greatest distance from God { We can read, and study, and confer, preach, and hear, day after day, without much weariness, hecause in these we have to do with instruments and creatures; but in secret prayer and conversing with (jiod ininiecUately, where no creature interpoSeth, how dull, how heartless and weary are we ! Thirdly, And if wc lose creatures or means, doth it not trouble us more than our loss of God i If we lose but a friend, or health, &c. all the town will hear of it; but we can miss our God, and scarce bemoan our misery. Thus it is apparent, we exceedingly make the creature our rest. It is not enough that they are sweet delights, and refreshing helps in our way to heaven, but they must also be made our heaven itself/ Christian reader, I would as willingly make thee sensible of this sin as of any sin in the world, if I could tell how to do it; for the Lord's greatest quarrel with us is in this point. Therefore I most earnestly beseech thee to press upon thine own conscience these following considerations.

Sect. II. I. It is gross idolatry to make any creature or means our rest; to settle the soul upon it, and say, Now I am well, upon the bare enjoyment of the creature. \\ hat is this but to make it our god i Certainly, to be the soul's rest, is God's own prerogative. And as it is palpable idolatry to place our rest in riches and honours ; so it is but a more spiritual and refined idolatry to take up our rest in excellent means, in the church's prosperity, and in its reformation. When we would have all that out of God wdiich is to be had only in God, what is this but to turn away from him to the creature, and in our hearts to deny him ? When we fetch more of our comfort and delight from the thoughts of prosperity, and those mercies which here we have at a distance from God, than from the forethoughts of our everlasting blessedness in him ; nay, when the thought of that day when we must come to God is our greatest trouble, and we would do any thing in the world to escape it, but the enjoyment of creatures, though absent from him, is the very thing our souls desire ; when we had rather talk of him than come to enjoy him ; and had rather go many miles to hear a powerful sermon of Christ and heaven, than to enter and possess it; oh ! what vile idolatry is this ! When we dispute against epicures, academics, and all pagans, how earnestly do we contend that God is the chief good, and the fruition of him our chief happiness ! What clear arguments do we bring to evince it ! But do we believe ourselves; or are we Christians in judgment, and pagans in affection i Or do we give our senses leave to be the choosers of our happiness, while reason and faith stand by? O Christians! how ill must our dear Lord needs take it, when we give him cause to complain, as sometimes he did of our fellow idolaters, Jcr. 1. 6, that we have been lost sheep, and have forgotten our resting-place ! When we give him cause to say, Why, my people can find rest in any thing rather than in me ! They can find delight in one another, but none in me; they can rejoice in my creatures and ordinances, but not in me; yea, in their very labours and duty they seek for

rest, and not in me; they had rather be any where than be with me. Are these their gods ? Have these delivered and redeemed them ? Will these be better to them than I have been, or than I would be { If yourselves have but a wife, a husband, a son, that had rather be any where than in your company, and is never so merry as when farthest from you, would you not take it ill yourselves ? "Why so must our God needs do : for what do we but lay these things in one end of the balance and God in the other, and foolishly, in our choice, prefer them before him ? As Elkanah said to Hannah, " Am not I better to thee than ten sons ?" 1 Sam. i. 8 ; so when we are longing after creatures, we may hear God say. Am not I better than all the creatures to thee ?

Sect. ni. 2. Consider, How thou contradictest the end of God in giving these things.* He gave them to help thee to him, and dost thou take up with them in his stead ? He gave them that they might be comfortable refreshments in thy journey, and wouldst thou now dwell in thy inn, and go no further ? Thou dost not only contradict God herein, but losest that benefit which thou mightest receive by them, yea, and makest them thy great hurt and hinder-ance. Surely it may be said of all our comforts and all ordinances, and the blessedest enjoyments in the church on earth, as God said to the Israelites of his ark, " The ark of the covenant went before them, to search out for them a resting-place," Numb. x. 33. So do all God's mercies here. They are not that rest, (as John pro-fesseth he was not the Christ,) but they are voices crying in this wilderness, to bid us prepare, for the kingdom of God, our true rest, is at hand. Therefore, to rest here, were to turn all mercies clean contrary to their own ends, and our own advantages, and to destroy ourselves with that which should help us.

Sect. IV. 3. Consider, Whether it be not the most probable way to cause God, either. First, To deny those mercies which we desire ; or. Secondly, To take from us these which we enjoy; or, Thirdly, To imbitter them at least, or curse them to us ? Certainly, God is no where so jealous as here. If you had a servant whom your own wife loved better than she did yourself, would you not both take it ill of such a wife, and rid your house of such a servant ? You will not suffer your child to use a knife till he have wit to do it without hurting him. Why so, if the Lord see you begin to settle in the world, and say. Here I will rest, no wonder if he soon in his jealousy unsettle you. If he love you, no wonder if he take that from you wherewith he sees you are about to destroy yourselves. It hath been my long observation of many, that when they have attempted great works, and have just finished them, or have aimed at great things in the world, and have just obtained them ; or have lived in much trouble and unsettlemeut, and have just overcome them, and begin with some content to look upon their condition, and rest in it, they are usually near to death or ruin. You know the story of the fool in the gospel. When a man is once at this language, Soul, take thy ease or rest; the next news usually is, Thou fool, this

* I mean the end of precept, not of his purpose.

night, or this month, or this year, shall they require thy soul, and then whose shall these things be .' Oh, what house is then' where this fool dwelleth not ! Dear Christian friends, you to whom I have especially relation, let you and I consider whether this he not our own case. Have not I, after such an unsettled life, and after four years' living in the weary condition and the unpleasing state of war; and after so many years' groaning under the church's unre-formedness, and the great fears that lay upon us, and after so many longings, and prayers for these days ; have I not thought of them with too much content ^ and been ready to say. Soul, take thy rest ? Have not I comforted myself more in the forethoughts of enjoying these, than of coming to heaven and enjoying God t ^Vhat wonder, then, if God cut me off, when I am just sitting down in this supposed rest? And hath not the like been your condition? Many of you have been soldiers, driven from house to home, endured a life of trouble and blood, been deprived of ministry and means', longing to see the church's settling. Did you not reckon up all the comforts you should have at your return ; and glad your liearts with such thoughts more than with the thoughts of your coming to heaven ? ^^ hy, what wonder if God now somewhat cross you, and turn some of your joy into sadness ? ]\Iany a servant of God hath been destroyed from the earth by being overvalued and overloved. I pray God you may take warning for the time to come, that you rob not yourselves of all your mercies. I am persuaded our discontents, and murmurings with our unpleasing condition, and our covetous desires after more, are not so provoking to God, nor so destructive to the sinner, as our too sweet enjoying, and rest of spirit in a pleasing state. If God have crossed any of you in wife, chiklren, goods, friends, &c. either by taking them from you, or the comfort of them, or the benefit and blessing, try whether this above all other be not the cause. For wheresoever your desires stop, and you say, Now I am well, that condition you make your god, and engage the jealousy of God against it. Whether you be friends to God or enemies, you can never expect that God should wink at such idolatry, or suffer you quietly to enjoy your idols.

Sect. V. 4. Consider, If God should suffer thee thus to take up t-hy rest here, it were one of the surest plagues and greatest curses that could possibly befall thee. It were better for thee, if thou never hadst a day of ease or content in the world, for then weariness might make thee seek after the true rest, Psal. xvii. 14; Luke xvi. 2.3. But if he should suffer thee to sit down and rest here, where were thy rest when this deceives thee ? A restless wretch thou wouldst be through all eternity. To have their portion in this life, and their good things on the earth, is the lot of the most miserable, perishing sinners. And doth it become Christians, then, to expect so much here ? Our rest is our heaven, and where we take our rest, there we make our heaven. And wouldst thou have but such a heaven as this { Certainly, as Saul's messengers found but Michal's man of straw when they expected David, so wilt thou find but a rest of straw, of wind, of vanity, when thou most needest

rest. It will be but a handful of waters to a man that is drowning, which will help to destroy, but not to save him. But that is the next.

Sect. VI. .5. Consider, Thou seekest rest where it is not to be found, and so wilt lose all thy labour, and, if thou proceed, thy soul's eternal rest too. I think I shall easily evince this by these clear demonstrations following :

First, Our rest is only in the full obtaining of our ultimate end, but that is not to be expected in this life, therefore, neither is rest to be here expected. Is God to be enjoyed in the best reformed church, in the purest and powerfullest ordinances here, as he is in heaven ? I know you will all confess he is not. How little of God, not only the multitude of the blind world, but sometimes the saints themselves, do enjoy, even under the most excellent means, let their own frequent complainings testify. And how poor comforters are the best ordinances and enjoyments, without God, the truly spiritual Christian knows. "Will a stone rest in the air in the midst of its fall, before it comes to the earth ? No, because its centre is its end. Should a traveller take up his rest in the way ? No, because his home is his journey's end. When you have all that creatures and means can afford, have you that you sought for ? Have you that you believe, pray, suffer for ? I think you dare not say so. Why, then, do we once dream of resting here ? We are like little children strayed from home, and God is now fetching us home ; and we are ready to turn into any house, stay and play with every thing in our way, and sit down on every green bank, and much ado there is to get us home.

Secondly, As we have not yet obtained our end, so are we in the midst of labours and dangers ; and is there any resting here ? What painful work doth lie upon our hands ! Look to our brethren, to godly, to ungodly, to the church, to our souls, to God, and what a deal of work in respect of each of these doth lie before us ! And can we rest in the midst of all our labours ? Indeed, we may take some refreshing, and ease ourselves sometimes in our troubles, if you will call that rest, but that is not the settling rest we now are speaking of: we may rest on earth, as the ark is said to have rested in the midst of Jordan, Josh. iii. 13 ; a short and small rest, no question : or as the angels of heaven are desired to turn in, and rest them on earth. Gen. xviii. 4; they would have been loth to have taken up their dwelling there. Should Israel have settled his rest in the wilderness among serpents, and enemies, and weariness, and famine ? Should Noah have made the ark his home, and have been loth to come forth when the waters were fallen ? Should the mariner choose his dwelling on the sea, and settle his rest in the midst of rocks, and sands, and raging tempests ? Though he may adventure through all these for a commodity of worth, yet I think he takes it not for his rest. Should a soldier rest in the midst of fight, when he is in the very thickest of his enemies, and the instruments of death compass him about ? I think he cares not how soon the battle is over. And though he may adventure upon war

for the obtaining of peace, yet I hope he is not so mad as to take that instead of peace. And are not Christians such travellers, such mariners, such sokliers ? I lave you not fears within, and troubles without!' Are we not in the thickest of continual dangers? We cannot eat, drink, sleep, labour, pray, hear, confer, &c. but in the midst of snares and perils, and shall we sit down and rest here ? O Christian, follow thy work, look to thy danger, hold on to the end; win the field and come oiF the ground, before thou think of a settling rest. I read indeed that Peter on the mount, when he had seen n glimpse of glory, said, " It is good for us to be here." But sure, when he was on the sea, in the midst of waves, he doth not then say, " It is good to be here." No, then he hath other language, " Save, Master, we perish." And even his desires to rest on the mount, are noted in Scripture to come from hence. He knew not what he said : it was on earth, though w ith Christ in his transfiguration. And I dare say the like of thee, whenever thou talkest of resting on earth, Thou knowest not what thou sayest. I read that Christ, when he w'as on the cross, comforted the converted thief with this, " This day shalt thou be with me in paradise." 15ut if he had only comforted him with telling him that he should rest there on that cross, would he not have taken it for a derision ? Methinks it should be ill resting in the midst of sicknesses and pains, persecution and distresses. One would think it should be no contentful dwelling for lambs among wolves. The wicked have some slender pretence for their sin in this kind; they are among their friends, in the midst of their portion, enjoying all the happiness that they are like to enjoy. But is it so with the godly ? Surely the w'orld is at best but a stepmother to them ; nay, an open enemy. But if nothing else would convince us, yet sure the remainders of sin which doth so easily beset us, should quickly satisfy a believer that here is not his rest, ^^'hat, a Christian ! and rest in a state of sinning ! It cannot be; or do they hope for a perfect freedom here ? That is impossible. I say, therefore, to every one that thinketh of rest on earth, as Micah, " Arise ye, depart; this is not your rest, because it is polluted," chap. ii. 10.

Thirdly, The nature of all these things may convince you, that they cannot be a Christian's true rest. They are too poor to make us rich; and too low to raise us to happiness; and too empty to fill our souls; and too base to make us blessed ; and of too short continuance to be our eternal contents. They cannot subsist themselves without support from heaven ; how, then, can they give subsistence to our souls ? Sure, if prosperity, or whatsoever we here can desire, be too base to make us gods of, then are they too base to be our rests.

Fourthly, That which is the soul's true rest, must be sufficient to alForcl it perpetual satisfaction; but all things below do delight us only with fresh variety. The content which any creature afford-eth, doth wax old and abate after a short enjoyment. We pine away for them, as Amnon for his sister ; and when we have satisfied our desire, we are weary of them and loathe them. If God

should rain down angels' food, after awhile our souls would loathe that dry manna. The most dainty fare, the most costly clothing, would not please us, were we tied to them alone. The most sumptuous house, the softest bed, were we confined to them, would be but a prison. One recreation pleaseth not long, we must have •supply of new, or our delights will languish. Nay, our delight in our society and friendship, especially if carnal, is strongest while fresh : and in the ordinances of God themselves, so far as we delight in them for themselves, and not for God, if novelty support not, our delight grows dull. If we hear still the same minister, or if in preaching and praying he use oft the same expressions, or if he preach oft the same sermon, how dull grows our devotion, though the matter be never so good, and at first did never so highly please us ! If we read the most excellent and pleasing books, the third or fourth reading is usually more heartless than the first or second ; nay, in our general way of Cbristianity, our first godly acquaintance, our first preachers, our first books, our first duties, have too commonly our strongest affections. All creatures are to us, as the flowers to the bee ; there is but little of that matter which aflfords them honey on any flower, and therefore they must have supply of fresh variety, and take of each a superficial taste, and so to the next: yea, some, having gone through variety of states, and tasted of the pleasures of their own country, do travel for fresh variety abroad; and when they come home, they usually betake themselves to some solitary corner, and sit down, and cry with Solomon, Vanity and vexation ! and with David, I have seen an end of all perfection: and can this be a place of rest for the soul ?

Fifthly, Those that know the creature least, do affect it most; the more it is known, the less it satisfieth : those only are taken with it, who can see no farther than its outward beauty, not beholding its outward vanity; it is like a comely picture, if you stand too near it, it appears less beautiful. We are prone to over-admire the persons of men, places of honour, and other men's happy condition ; but it is only while we do but half know them : stay but a while till we know them thoroughly, and have discovered the evil as well as the good, and the defects as well as the perfections, and we then do cease our admiration.

Sect. VII. 6. To have creatures and means without God, who is their end, is so far from being our happiness, that it is an aggravation of our misery, even as to have food without strength, and starve in the midst of plenty, and as Pharaoh's kine, to devour all, and lean still. "What the better were you if you had the best minister on earth, the best society, the purest church, and therewithal the most plentiful estate, but nothing of God ? If God should say. Take my creatures, my word, my servants, my ordinances, but not myself, would you take this for a happiness ? If you had the word of God, and not the Word which is God ; or the bread of the Lord, and not the Lord, which is the true bread; or could cry with the Jews, " The temple of the Lord," and had not the Lord of the temple ; this were a poor happiness.

Was Capernaum the more happy, or tho more miserable, for seeing the mighty works which they had seen, and hearing the words of Christ which they did hear .' Surely that which aggravates our sin and misery cannot be our rest.

7. If all this be nothing, do but consult with experience, both other men's and your own; too many thousands and millions have made trial, but did ever one of these find a sufficient rest for his soul on this earth ? Delights I deny not but they have found, and imperfect temporary content, but rest and satisfaction they never found : and shall we think to find that which never man could find before us .' Aha])'s kingdom is nothing to him, except he had also Naboth's vineyard ; and did that satisfy him, think you, when he obtained it ? If we had con(iuered to ourselves the whole world, we should perhaps do as Alexander is fabled to have done, sit down and weep because there is never another world to conquer. If I should send you forth as Noah's dove, to go through the earth, to look for a resting-place, you w'ould return with a confession, that you can find none. Go ask honour. Is there rest here i Why you may as well rest on the top of the tempestuous mountains, or in Etna's flames, or on the pinnacle of the temple. If you ask riches. Is there rest here ? Even such is in a bed of thorns ; or were it a l)ed of down, yet you must arise in the morning, and leave it to the next guest that shall succeed you. Or if you inquire of worldly pleasure and ease, can they give you any tidings of true rest .' Even such as the fish or bird hath in the net, or in swallowing down the deceitful bait; when the pleasure is at the sweetet>t, death is the nearest: it is just such a content and happiness, as the exhilarating vapours of the wine do give to a man that is drunk : it causeth a merry and cheerful heart, it makes him forget his wants and miseries, and conceive himself the happiest man in the world, till his sick vomitings have freed him of his disease, or sleep hath assuaged and subdued those vapours which deluded his fantasy and perverted his understanding, and then he awakes a more unhappy man than ever he was before. Such is the rest and happiness that all worldly pleasures do afford. As the fantasy may be delighted in a pleasant dream, when all the senses are captivated by sleep ; so may the flesh of sensitive appetite, when the reasonable soul is captivated by security : but when the morning comes, the delusion vanisheth, and where is the pleasure and happiness then ? Or if you should go to learning, to purest, plentifullest, powerfullcst ordinances, or compass sea and land to find the per-fectest church and holiest saints, and inquire whether there your soul may rest; you might haply receive from these indeed an olive-branch of hope, as they are means to your rest, and have relation to eternity ; but in regard of any satisfaction in themselves, you would remain as restless as ever before. Oh how well might all these answer many of us, with that indignation, as Jacob did l^achel, " Am I instead of God!"' Or as the king of Israel said to the messengers of the king of Assyria, when he required him to restore Naaman to health, " Am I God, to kill and make alive, that this

man sends to me to recover a man of his leprosy ?" So may the highest perfection on earth say, Ave we God, or instead of God, that this man comes to us to give a soul rest? Go take a view of all estates of men in the world, and see whether any of them have found .this rest. Go to the hushandman, and demand of him ; behold his circular, endless labours, his continual care and toil and weariness, and you will easily see that there is no rest: go to the tradesman, and you shall find the like : if I should send you lower, you would judge your labour lost: or go to the conscionable, painful minister, and there you will yet more easily be satisfied; for though his spending, killing, endless labours are exceeding sweet, yet it is not because they are his rest, but in reference to his people's and his own eternal rest, at which he aims, and to which they may conduce : if you should ascend to magistracy, and inquire at the throne, you would find there is no condition so restless, and your hearts Avould even pity poor princes and kings. Doubtless neither court nor country, towns or cities, shops or fields, treasuries, libraries, solitariness, society, studies, or pulpits, can aiford any such thing as this rest. If you could inquire of the dead of all generations, or if you could ask the living through all dominions, they would all tell you. Here is no rest; and all mankind may say, " All our days are sorrow, and our labour is grief, and our hearts take not rest," Eccles. ii. 23. Go to Geneva, go to New England, find out the church which you think most happy, and we may say of it, as lamenting Jeremy of the church of the Jews, " She dwelleth among the heathen, she findeth no rest, all her persecutors overtake her," Lam. i. 3. The holiest prophet, the blessedest apostle, would say, as one of the most blessed did, " Our flesh had no rest, without were fightings, within were fears," 2 Cor. vii. 5. If neither Christ nor his apostles, to whom was given the earth and the fulness thereof, had no rest here, why should we expect it ?

Or if other men's experiences move you not, do but take a view of your own : can you remember the estate that did fully satisfy you ? or if you could, will it prove a lasting state ? For my own part, I have run through several places and states of life, and though I never had the necessities which might occasion discontent, yet did I never find a settlement for my soul; and I believe we may all say of our rest, as Paul of our hopes, " If it were in this life only, we were of all men most miserable," 1 Cor. xv. 19. Or if you will not credit your past experience, you may try in your present or future wants; when conscience is wounded, God offended, your bodies weakened, your friends afflicted, see if these can yield you rest. If then either Scripture, or reason, or the experience of ourselves, and all the world, will satisfy us, we may see there is no resting here. And yet how guilty are the generality of professors of this sin! How many halts and stops do we make, before we will make the Lord our rest! How must God even drive us, and fire us out of every condition, lest we should sit down and rest there ! If he give us prosperity, riches, or honour, we do in our hearts dance before them, as the Israelites before their calf, and

say, These arc thy gods, and conchule it is good being here. If he inibitter all these to us by crosses, liow do we strive to have the cross removed, and the Intterness taken away, and are restless till our condition be sweetened to us, that we may sit down again and rest where we were ! If the Lord, seeing our perverseness, shall now proceed in the cure, and take the creature quite away, then how do we labour, and care, and cry, and pray, that God would restore it, that, if it may be, we may make it our rest again ! And while we are deprived of its actual enjoyment, and have not our former idol to delight in, yet rather than come to God, we delight ourselves in our hopes of recovering our former state; and as long as there is the least likelihood of obtaining it, we make those very hopes our rest. If the poor by labouring all their days, have but hopes of a fuller estate when they are old, (though a hundred to one they die before they have obtained it, or certainly at least immediately after,) yet do they labour with patience, and rest themselves on these expectations. Or if God doth take away both present enjoyments, and all hopes of ever recovering them, how do we search about, from creature to creature, to find out something to supply the room, and to settle upon, instead thereof? Yea, if we can find no supply, but are sure we shall live in poverty, in sickness, in disgrace, while we are on earth, yet will -we rather settle in this misery, and make a rest of a wretched being, than we will leave all and come to God. A man would think, that a multitude of poor people, who beg their bread, or can scarce with their hardest labour have sustenance for their lives, should easily be driven from resting here, and w^illingly look to heaven for rest; and the sick who have not a day of ease, nor any hope of recovery left them. But oh the cursed averseness of these souls from God! We will rather account our misery our happiness, yea, that which we daily groan under as intolerable, than we will take up our happiness in God. If any place in hell were tolerable, the soul would rather take up its rest there, than come to God. Yea, when he is bringing us over to him, and hath convinced us of the w^orth of his ways and service, the last deceit of all is here, we will rather settle upon those ways that lead to him, and those ordinances which speak of him, and those gifts which flow from him, than we w'ill come clean over to himself. Christian, marvel not that I speak so much of resting in these ; beware lest it should prove thy ow n case : I suppose thou art so far convinced of the vanity of riches, and honour, and carnal pleasure, that thou canst more easily disclaim these, and it is well if it be so ; but for thy more spiritual mercies in thy way of profession, thou lookest on these with less suspicion, and thinkest they are so near to God, that thou canst not delight in them too much, especially seeing most of the world despise them, or delight in them too little. But doth not the increase of those mercies dull thy longings after heaven ? If all were according to thy desire in the church, wouldst thou not sit down and say, I am well, soul, take thy rest; and think it a judgment to be removed to heaven ? Surely if thy delight in these excel not thy delight in God, or if thou

wouldst gladly leave the most happy condition on earth, to be with God, then art thou a rare man, a Christian indeed. I know the means of grace must be loved and valued, and the usual enjoyment of God is in the use of them ; and he that delighteth in any worldly thing more than in them, is not a true Christian; but when we are content with duty instead of God, and had rather be at a sermon than in heaven, and a member of a church here than of that perfect church, and rejoice in ordinances but as they are part of our earthly prosperity, this is a sad mistake. Many were more willing to go to heaven in the former days of persecution, when they had no hopes of seeing the church reformed, or delivered : but now men are in hopes to have all things almost as they desire, the case is altered ; and they begin to look at heaven as strangely and sadly, as if it would be a loss to be removed to it. Is this the right use of reformation ? or is this the way to have it continued or perfected ? Should our deliverances draw our hearts from God? Oh, how much better were it, in every trouble, to fetch our chief arguments of comfort from the place where our chiefest rest remains ! And when others comfort the poor with hopes of wealth, or the sick with hopes of health and life, let us comfort ourselves with the hopes of heaven. So far rejoice in the creature, as it comes from God, or leads to him, or brings thee some report of his love : so far let thy soul take comfort in ordinances, as God doth accompany them with quickening, or comfort, or gives himself unto thy soul by them ; still remembering, when thou hast even what thou dost desire, yet this is not heaven; yet these are but the first-fruits. Is it not enough that God alloweth us all the comfort of travellers, and accordingly to rejoice in all his mercies, but we must set up our staff as if we were at home ? " While we are present in the body, we are absent from the Lord," 2 Cor. v. G—9 ; and while we are absent from him, we are absent from our rest. If God were as willing to be absent from us as we from him, and if he were as loth to be our rest as we are loth to rest in him, we should be left to an eternal restless separation. In a word, as you are sensible of the sinfulness of your earthly discontents, so be you also of your irregular contents, and pray God to pardon them much more. And above all the plagues and judgments of God on this side hell, see that you watch and pray against this of settling any where short of heaven, or reposing your souls to rest on any thing below God. Or else, when the bough which you tread on breaks, and the things which you rest upon deceive you, you will perceive your labour all lost, and your sweetest contents to be preparatives to your woe, and your highest hopes will make you ashamed. Try if you can persuade Satan to leave tempting, and the world to cease both troubling and seducing, and sin to cease inhabiting and acting ; if you can bring the glory of God from above, or remove the court from heaven to earth, and secure the continuance of this through eternity, then settle yourselves below, and say. Soul, take thy rest here ; but till then, admit not such a thought.

CHAPTER 11.

THE SEVENTH ISR.—REPROVING OUR UNWILLINGNESS TO DIE.

Sect. I. Is thcro a rost remaining for the people of God ? Why are we then so loth to die, and to depart from hence that we may possess this rest ? If I may judge of other men's hearts by my own, we are exceeding guilty in this point. \\'e linger, as I^ot in Sodom, till God being merciful to us, doth pluck us away against our wills. How rare is it to meet with a Christian, though of strongest parts, and longest profession, that can die with an unfeigned willingness ! especially if worldly calamity constrain them not to be willing ! Indoed, we sometimes set a good face on it, and pretend a willingness when we see there is no remedy, and that our unwillingness is only a disgrace to us, but will not help to prolong our lives: but if God had enacted such a law for the continuance of our livv-^s on earth, as is enacted for the continuance of the parliament,' that we should not be dissolved till our own pleasure, and that no man should die till he were truly willing, I fear heaven might be empty for the most of us; and if our worldly prosperity did not fade, our lives on earth would be very long, if not eternal. We pretend desires of being better prepared, and of doing God some greater service, and to that end we beg one year more, and another, and another ; but still our promised preparation and service are as far to seek as ever before, and we remain as unwilling to die as we were when we begged our first reprival. If God were not more willing of our company, than we are of his, how long should we remain thus distant from him ! And as we had never been sanctified if God had staid till we were willing ; so if he should refer it wholly to ourselves, it would at least be long before we should be glorified. I confess that death of itself is not desirable ; but the soul's rest is with God, to which death is the common passage. And because we are apt to make light of this sin, and to plead our common nature to patronize it, let me here set before you its aggravations ; and also propound some furth(?r considerations, which may be useful to you and myself against it.

Sect. II. And, first, consider what a deal of gross infidelity doth lurk in the bowels of this sin. Either paganish unbelief of the truth of that eternal blessedness, and of the truth of the Scripture which doth promise it to us; or, at least, a doubting of our own interest; or most usually somewhat of both these. And though Christians are usually most sensible of the latter, and therefore complain most against it, yet I am apt to suspect the former to be the main, radical master-sin, and of greatest force in this business. Oh ! if we did but verily believe that the promise of this glory is the word of God, and that God doth truly mean as he speaks, and is fully resolved to make it good; if we did verily believe that there is, indeed, such blessedness prepared for believers as the 2 H

Scripture mentioneth; sure we should be as impatient of living as we are now fearful of dying, and should think every day a year till our last day should come. We should as hardly refrain from laying violent hands on ourselves, or from the neglecting of the means of our health and life, as we do now from over-much carefulness and seeking of life by unlawful means. If the eloquent oration of a philosopher, concerning the soul's immortality and the life to come, could make his affected hearer presently to cast himself headlong from the rock, as impatient of any longer delay, what would a serious Christian belief do, if God's law against self-murder did not restrain ? Is it possible that we can truly believe that death will remove us from misery to such glory, and yet be loth to die ? If it were the doubts of our interest which made us afraid, yet a true belief of the certainty and excellency of this rest would make us restless till our interest be cleared. If a man that is desperately sick to-day, did believe he should arise sound the next morning; or a man to-day, in despicable poverty, had assurance that he should to-morrow arise a prince; would they be afraid to go to bed, or rather think it the longest day of their lives, till that desired night and morning came ? The truth is, though there is much faith and Christianity in our mouths, yet there is much infidelity and paganism in our hearts, which is the main cause that we are so loth to die.

Sect. III. 3. And as the weakness of our faith, so also the coldness of our love, is exceedingly discovered by our unwillingness to die. Love doth desire the nearest conjunction, the fullest fruition, and closest communion. Where these desires are absent, there is only a naked pretence of love. He that ever felt such a thing as love working in his breast, hath also felt these desires attending it. If we love our friend, we love his company: his presence is comfortable, his absence is troublesome. When he goes from us, we desire his return: when he comes to us, we entertain him with welcome and gladness; when he dies, we mourn, and usually over-mourn. To be separated from a faithful friend, is to us as the renting of a member from our bodies: and would not our desires after God be such, if we really loved him? Nay, should it not be much more than such, as he is above all friends most lovely ? The Lord teach us to look closely to our hearts, and take heed of self-deceit in this point : for, certainly, whatever we pretend or conceit, if we love either father, mother, husband, wife, child, friend, wealth, or life, more than Christ, we are yet none of his sincere disciples. When it comes to the trial, the question will not be who hath preached most, or heard most, or talked most, but who hath loved most. When our account is given, Christ will not take sermons, prayers, fastings; no, not the giving of our goods, nor the burning of our bodies, instead of love, 1 Cor. xiii. 1—4, 8, 13; xvi. 22; Eph. vi. 24. And do we love him, and yet care not how long we are from him ? If I be deprived of my bosom friend, methinks I am as a man in a wilderness, solitary and disconsolate : and is my absence from God no part of my trouble; and yet can I take him

for my chiefest friend ? If I delight but in some garden, or walk, or gallery, I would be much in it : if I love my books, I am much with them, and almost unwcariedly poring on them. The food which I love, I would often feed on; the clothes that I love, I would often wear ; the recreations which I love, I would often use them ; the business which I love, I would be nmch employed in. And can I love God, and that above all those, and yet have no desires to be with him ? Is it not a far likelier sign of hatred- than of love, when the thoughts of our appearing before God are our most grievous thoughts ; and when we take ourselves as undone, because we must die and come unto him ? Surely I should scarce take him for an unfeigned friend, who were as well contented to be absent from me, as we ordinarily are to be absent from God. Was it such a joy to Jacob to see the face of Joseph in Egypt, and shall we so dread the sight of Christ in glory, and yet say we love him ? I dare not conclude that we have no love at all when we are so loth to die ; but I dare say, were our love more, we should die more willingly. Yea, I dare say, did we love God but as strongly as a worldling loves his wealth, or as an ambitious man his honour, or a voluptuous man his pleasure ; yea, as a drunkard loves his swinish delight, or an unclean person his brutish lust ; we should not then be so exceeding loth to leave the world, and go to God. Oh ! if this holy flame of love were thoroughly kindled in our breasts, instead of our pressing fears, our dolorous complaints, and earnest prayers against death, we should join in David's wilderness lamentations : " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God : my soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God?" Psal. xlii. 1, 2. The truth is, as our knowledge of God is exceeding dark, and our faith in him exceeding feeble ; so is our love to him but little, and therefore are our desires after him so dull.

Sect. IV. 3. It appears we are little weary of sinning, when we are so unwilling to be freed by dying. Did we take sin for the greatest evil, we should not be willing of its company so long; did we look on sin as our cruellest enemy, and on a sinful life as the most miserable life, sure we should then be more willing of a change. But, oh ! how far are our hearts from our doctrinal profession, in this point also ! We preach, and write, and talk against sin, and call it all that naught is; and when we are called to leave it, we are loth to depart: we brand it with the most odious names that wc can imagine, and all fall short of expressing its vileness; but when the approach of death puts us to the trial, we choose a continuance with these abominations, before the presence and fruition of God. But as Nemon smote his soldier for railing against Alexander's enemy, saying, " I hired thee to fight against him, and not to rail against him ;" so may God smite us also when he shall hear our tongues reviling that sin which we resist so slothfully, and part with so unwillingly. Christians, seeing we are conscious that our hearts deserve a smiting for this, let us join together to chide and smite our own hearts, before God do judge and smite them. 2 H 2

O foolish, sinful heart! hast thou been so long a sink of sin, a cage of all unclean lusts, a fountain incessantly streaming forth the bitter and deadly waters of transgression: and art thou not yet more weary ? Wretched soul ! hast thou been so long wounded in all thy faculties; so grievously languishing in all thy performances; so fruitful a soil for all iniquities; and art thou not yet weary ? Hast thou not yet transgressed long enough; nor long enough provoked thy Lord; nor long enough abused love ? Wouldst thou yet grieve the Spirit more, and sin against thy Saviour's blood, and more increase thine own wounds, and still lie under thy grievous imperfections ? Hath thy sin proved so profitable a commodity, so necessary a companion, such a delightful employment, that thou dost so much dread the parting day? Hath thy Lord deserved this at thy hands, that thou shouldst choose to continue in the suburbs of hell, rather than live with him in light; and rather stay and drudge in sin, and abide with his and thy own professed enemy, than come away and dwell with God ? May not God justly grant thee thy wishes, and seal thee a lease of thy desired distance, and nail thy ear to these doors of misery, and exclude thee eternally from his glory ? Foolish sinner! who hath wronged thee, God or sin ? Who hath wounded thee and caused thy groans ? Who hath made thy life so woeful, and caused thee to spend thy days in dolour ? Is it Christ, or is it thy corruption ? and art thou yet so loth to think of parting? Shall God be willing to dwell with man, and the Spirit to abide in thy peevish heart ; and that where sin doth straiten his room, and a cursed inmate inhabit with him, which is ever quarrelling and contriving against him ; and shall man be loth to come to God, where is nothing but perfect blessedness and glory ? Is not this to judge ourselves unworthy of everlasting life ? If they in Acts xiii. 46, who put the gospel from them, did judge themselves unworthy, do not we who flee from life and glory ?

Sect. V. 4. It shows that we are insensible of the vanity of the creature, and of the vexation accompanying our residence here, when we are so loth to hear or think of a removal. Whatever we say against the world, or how grievous soever our complaints may seem; we either believe not or feel not what we say, or else we should be answerably affected to it. We call the world our enemy, and cry out of the oppression of our task-masters, and groan under our sore bondage ; but either we speak not as we think, or else we imagine some singular happiness to consist in the possession of worldly things, for which all this should be endured. Is any man loth to leave his prison, or to remove his dwelling from his cruel enemies, or to escape the hands of murderous robbers ? Do we take the world indeed for our prison, our cruel, spoiling, murderous foe; and yet are we loth to leave it ? Do we take this flesh for the clog of our spirits; and a veil that is drawn betwixt us and God; and a continual in-dwelling traitor to our souls; and yet are we loth to lay it down ? Indeed, Peter was smitten by the angel (Acts xii. 7—9), before he arose and left his prison; but it was more from his ignorance of his intended deliverance, than any unwillingness to leave the place.

I have read of Joseph's long imprisonment, and Daniel's casting into the den of lions, and Jercniiah's sticking fast in the dungeon, and Jonah's lying in tiie belly of the whale, and David from the deep crying to Ciod; but I remember not that any w<>re loth to be delivered. I have read, indeed, that they suffered cheerfully, and rejoiced in being afflicted, destitute, and tormented; yea, and that some of them would not accept of deliverance, Heb. xi.: but not from any love to the suffering, or any unwillingness to change their condition, but because of the hard terms of their deliverance, and from the hope tliey had of a better resurrection. Though Paul and Silas could sing in the stocks, Acts xvi. 25, and comfortably bear the cruel scourgings, yet I do not believe they were unwilling to go forth, nor took it ill when God released them. Ah, foolish, wretched soul! doth every prisoner groan for freedom, and every slave desire his jubilee, and every sick man long for health, and every hungry man for food j and dost thou alone abhor deliverance ? Doth the seaman long to see the land? Doth the husbandman desire the harvest, and the labouring man to receive his pay ? Doth the traveller long to be at home, and the runner long to win the prize, and the soldier long to win the field ? And art thou loth to see thy labours finished, and to receive the end of thy faith and sufferings, and to obtain the thing for which thou livest ? Are all thy sufferings only seeming? Have thy gripes, thy griefs and groans, been only dreams ? If they were, yet methinks w'e shoxild not be afraid of waking. Fearful dreams are not delightful. Or, is it not rather the world's delights that are all mere dreams and shadows? Is not all its glory as the light of a glow-worm, a wandering fire, yielding but small directing light, and as little comforting heat in all our doubtful and sorrowful darkness ? Or, hath the world, in these its latter days, laid aside its ancient enmity ? Is it become of late more kind { Hath it left its thorny, renting nature? Who hath wrought this great change, and who hath made this reconciliation ? Surely, not the great Reconciler. He hath told us, in the world we shall have trouble, and in him only we shall have peace. We may reconcile ourselves to the world at our peril, but it will never reconcile itself to us. O foolish, unworthy soul, who hadst rather dwell in this land of darkness, and rather w-ander in this barren wilderness, than be at rest with Jesus Christ; who hadst rather stay among the wolves, and daily suffer the scorpions' stings, than to praise the Lord with the hosts of heaven. If thou didst well know what heaven is, and what earth is, it would not be so.

Sect. VI. 5. This unwillingness to die, doth actually impeach us of high treason against the Lord : is it not a choosing of earth before him ; and taking these present things for our happiness, and consequently making them our very God ? If we did indeed make God our God, that is, our end, our rest, our portion, our treasure, how is it possible but we should desire to enjoy him ? It behoves us the rather to be fearful of this, it being utterlv inconsistent with

saving grace, to value any thing before God, or to make the creature our highest end. Many other sins, foul and great, may possibly yet consist with sincerity ; but so, I am certain, cannot that. But concerning this I have spoken before.

Sect. VII. G. And all these defects being thus discovered, what a deal of dissembling doth it moreover show ! We take on us to believe undoubtedly the exceeding, eternal weight of glory ; we call God our chiefest good, and say. We love him above all; and for all this, we flee from him as if it were from hell itself. Would you have any man believe you, when you call the Lord your only hope, and speak of Christ as all in all, and talk of the joy that is in his presence, and yet would endure the hardest life rather than die, and come into his presence ? What self-contradiction this, to talk so hardly of the world and flesh, to groan and complain of sin and suffering, and yet fear no day more than that which we expect should bring our final freedom! What shameless, gross dissembling is this, to spend so many hours and days in hearing sermons, reading books, conferring with others, and all to learn the way to a place which we are loth to come to ; to take on us all our life-time to walk towards heaven, to run, to strive, to fight for heaven, which we are loth to come to ! What apparent, palpable hypocrisy is this, to lie upon our knees in public and private, and spend one hour after another in prayer for that which we would not have ! If one should overhear thee in thy daily devotions crying out. Lord, deliver me from this body of death, from this sin, this sickness, this poverty, these cares and fears ; how long, Lord, shall I suffer these ? and withal should hear thee praying against death, can he believe thy tongue agrees with thy heart ? except thou have so far lost thy reason as to expect all this here; or except the papists' doctrine were true, that we are able to fulfil the law of God; or our late perfectionists are truly enlightened, who think they can live and not sin : but if thou know these to be undoubtedly false, how canst thou deny thy gross dissembling ?

Sect. VIII. 7. Consider, How do we wrong the Lord and his promises, and disgrace his ways in the eyes of the world ! As if we would actually persuade them to question, whether God be true to his word or no ; whether there be any such glory as Scripture mentions ; when they see those who have professed to live by faith, and have boasted of their hopes in another world, and persuaded others to let go all for these hopes, and spoken disgracefully of all things below, in comparison of these unexpressible things above; I say, when they see these very men so loth to leave their hold of present things, and to go to that glory which they talked and boasted of, how doth it make the weak to stagger, and confirm the world in their unbelief and sensuality; and make them conclude, Sure if these professors did expect so much glory, and make so light of the world as they seem, they would not themselves be so loth of a change ! Oh, how are we ever able to repair the wrong which we do to God and poor souls by this scandal! and, what an honour to

God, what a strengtheninc:f to believers, what a conviction to unbelievers, would it be, if Christians in this did answer their professions, and cheerfully welcome the news of rest!

Sect. IX. 8. It evidently discovers that we have been careless loiterers, that we have spent much time to little purpose, and that we have neglected and lost a great many warnings. Have we not had all our life-time to prepare to die t so many years to make ready for one hour, and are we so unready and unwilling yet ? What have we done, why have we lived, that the business of our lives is so much undone? Had we any greater matters to mind ? Have we not foolishly wronged our souls in this ? Would we have wished more frequent warnings ? How oft hath death entered the habitations of our neighbours ! How oft hath it knocked at our own doors ! W'e have first heard that such a one is dead, and then such a one, and such a one, till our towns have changed most of their inhabitants ; and was not all this a sufl&cient warning to tell us that we were also mortals, and our own turn would shortly come ? Nay, we have seen death raging in towns and fields, so many hundred a day dead of the pestilence, so many thousands slain by the sword; and did we not know it would reach to us at last ? How many distempers have vexed our bodies ; frequent languishings, consuming weaknesses, wasting fevers; here pain, and there trouljle ; that we have been forced to receive the sentence of death : and what were all these but so many messengers sent from God to tell us we must shortly die, as if we had heard a lively voice bidding us, Delay no more, but make you ready : and are we unready and unwilling after all this ? O careless, dead-hearted sinners, unworthy neglecters of God's warning, faithless betrayers of our own souls !

All these heinous aggravations do lie upon this sin of unwillingness to die, which I have laid down to make it hateful to my own soul, which is too much guilty of it, as well as yours ; and for a fui'ther help to our prevailing against it, I shall adjoin these following considerations :

Sect. X. 1. Consider, " Not to die," were " never to be happy." To escape death, were to miss of blessedness; except God should translate us as Enoch and Elias, which he never did before or since. If our hope in Christ were in this life only, we were then of all men most miserable : the epicure hath more pleasure to his flesh than the Christian ; the drunkard, the whoremaster, and the jovial lads,-do swagger it out with gallantry and mirth, when a poor saint is mourning in a corner : yea, the very beasts of the field do eat, and drink, and skip, and play, and care for nothing, when many a Christian dwells with sorrows : so that if you would not die, and go to heaven, what would you have more than an epicure or a beast ? What doth it avail us to fight with beasts, as men, if it were not for our hopes of a life to come ? why do we pray, and fast, and mourn; why do we suffer the contempt of the world; why are we the scorn and hatred of all; if it were not for our hopes after we are dead ? ^^ by are we Christians, and not pagans and infidels, if we do not desire a life to come ? Why, Christian, wouldst thou

lose thy faith, and lose thy labour in all thy duties and all thy sufferings ? AVouldst thou lose thy hope, and lose all the end of thy life, and lose all the blood of Christ, and be contented with the portion of a worldling or a brute ? If thou say no to this, how canst thou then be loth to die ? As good old Milius said, when he lay a dying, and was asked whether he was willing to die or no, Illiiis est nolle mori, qui. nolit ire ad CJrristiim. A saying of Cyprian's, which he oft repeated, " Let him be loth to die, who is loth to be with Christ."

Sect. XI. 2. Consider, Is God willing by death to glorify us ; and are we unwilling to die that we may be glorified ? Would God freely give us heaven ; and are we unwilling to receive it ? As the prince who would have taken the lame beggar into his coach, and he refused, said to him, Opiime mereris qui in luto Juereas, Thou well deservest to stick in the dirt; so may God to the refusers of rest. You well deserve to live in trouble. Methinks, if a prince were willing to make you his heir, you should scarce be unwilling to accept it. Sure the refusing of such a kindness must needs discover ingratitude and unworthiness. As God hath resolved against them who make excuses when they should come to Christ, " Verily, none of these that were bidden shall taste of my supper;" so is it just with him to resolve against us who frame excuses when we should come to glory. Ignatius, when he was condemned to be torn with wild beasts, was so afraid, lest by the prayers and means of his friends, he should lose the opportunity and benefit of martyrdom, that he often entreats them to let him alone, and not hinder his happiness ; and tells them he was afraid of their love, lest it would hurt him, and their carnal friendship would keep him from death.

Sect. XII. 3. The Lord Jesus was willing to come from heaven to earth for us, and shall we be unwilling to i^emove from earth to heaven for ourselves and him ? Sure if we had been once possessed of heaven, and God should have sent us to earth again, as he did his Son for our sakes, we should then have been loth to remove indeed. It was another kind of change than ours is, which Christ did freely submit unto, to clothe himself with the garments of flesh, and to take upon him the form of a servant; to come from the bosom of the Father's love to bear his wrath which we should have borne. Shall he come down to our hell, from the height of glory to the depth of misery, to bring us up to his eternal rest I and shall we be after this unwilling ? Sure Christ had more cause to be unwilling ; he might have said. What is it to me if these sinners suffer ? If they value their flesh above their spirits, and their lusts above my Father's love, if they needs will sell their souls for nought, who is it fit should be the loser; and who should bear the blame and curse ? Should I whom they have wronged ] Must they wilfully transgress my law, and I undergo their deserved pain ? Is it not enough that I bear the trespass from them, but I must also bear my Father's wrath, and satisfy the justice which they have wronged ? Must I come down from heaven to earth, and clothe

niyseU'with human flesh ; be spit upon, and scorned by man ; and fast, and weep, and sweat, and suiler, and bleed, and die a cursed death ; and all this for wretched worms, who would rather hazard all they had, and venture their souls and God's favour, than they would forbear but one forbidden morsel ? Do they cast away themselves so slightly, and nmst I redeem them again so dearly i Thus "we see that Christ had much to have pleaded against his coming down for man, and yet he pleaded none of this; he had reason enough to have made him unwilling, and yet did he voluntarily condescend. But we have no reason against our coming to him, except we will reason against our hopes, and plead for a perpetuity of our own calamities. Christ came down to fetch us up, and would we have him lose his blood and labour, and go away again without us .' Hath he bought our rest at so dear a rate ? Is our inheritance purchased with the blood of God, and are we after all this loth to enter i Ah ! sirs, it was Christ, and not we, that had cause to be loth. The Lord forgive and heal this foolish ingratitude.

Sect. XIII. 4. Consider, Do we not combine with our most cruel, mortal foes, and jump with them in their most malicious design, while we are loth to die and go to heaven ? Where is the height of their malice ; and what is the scope of all temptations; and what is the devil's daily business ? Is it not to keep our souls from God .'' And shall we be well content with this, and join with Satan in our desires ? What though it be not those eternal torments, yet it is the one half of hell which we wish to ourselves, while we desire to be absent from heaven and God. If thou shouldst take counsel of all thine enemies, if thou shouldst beat thy brains both night and day in studying to do thyself a mischief, what greater than this could it possibly be, to continue here on earth from God; excepting only hell itself.' Oh, what sport is this to Satan, that his desires and thine should so concur ; that when he sees he cannot get thee to hell, he can so long keep thee out of heaven, and make thee the earnest petitioner for it thyself! Oh, gratify not the devil so much to thy own displeasure !

Sect. XIV. 5. Do not our daily fears of death make our lives a continual torment ? The fears of death being, as Erasnms saith, a sorer evil than death itself. And thus, as Paul did die daily in regard of preparation, and in regard of the necessary sullerings of this life, so do we in regard of the torments and the useless sufferings •which we make ourselves. Those lives which might be full of joys in the daily contemplation of the life to come, and the sweet, delightful thoughts of bliss, how do we fill them up with terrors through all these causeless thoughts and fears ! Thus do we consume our own comforts, and prey upon our truest pleasures. When we might lie down, and rise up, and walk abroad, with our hearts full of the joys of God, we continually fill them with perplexing fears. For he that fears dying, must be always fearing, because he hath always cause to expect it. And how can that man's life be comfortable, who lives in continual fear of losing his comforts?

Sect. XV. 6. Moreover, All these are self-created sufferings;

as if it were not enough to be the cleservers, but we must also be the executioners of our own calamities. As if God had not inflicted enough upon us, but we must inflict more upon ourselves ! Is not death bitter enough to the flesh of itself, but we must double, and treble, and multiply its bitterness ? Do we complain so much of the burden of our troubles, and yet daily add unto the weight ? Sure the state of poor mortals is sufficiently calamitous; they need not make it so much worse. The sufferings laid upon us by God, do all lead to happy issues ; the progress is from suffering to patience, from thence to experience, and so to hope, and at last to glory, Rom. V. 3, 4; viii. 17. But the sufferings which we do make ourselves, have usually issues answerable to their causes. The motion is circular and endless; from sin to suffering, from suffering to sin, and so to suffering again, and so in infinitum : and not only so, but they multiply in their course ; every sin is greater than the former, and so every suffering also greater. This is the natural progress of them, which, if mercy do intercept, no thanks to us. So that, except we think that God hath made us to be our own tormentors, we have small reason to nourish our fears of death.

Sect. XVI. 7. Consider, further. They are all but useless, unprofitable fears. As all our care cannot make one hair white or black, or add one cubit to our stature. Matt. v. 36 ; vi. 27; so can neither our fear prevent our sufferings, nor delay our dying time an hour ; willing or unwilling, we must away. Many a man's fears have hastened his end, but no man's ever did avert it. It is true, a cautelous fear or care concerning the danger after death, hath profited many, and is very useful to the preventing of that danger; but for a member of Christ, and an heir of heaven, to be afraid of entering his own inheritance, this is a sinful, useless fear.

Sect. XVII. 8. But though it be useless in respect of good, yet to Satan it is very serviceable. Our fears of dying insnare our souls, and add strength to many temptations. Nay, when we are called to die for Christ, and put to it in a day of trial, it may draw us to deny the known truth, and forsake the Lord God himself. You look upon it now as a small sin, a common frailty of human nature ; but if you look to the dangerous consequences of it, me-thinks it should move you to other thoughts. What made Peter deny his Lord ? What makes apostates in suffering times forsake the truth, and the green blade of unrooted faith to wither before the heat of persecution ? Fear of imprisonment and poverty may do much, but fear of death will do much more. When you see the gibbet, or hear the sentence, if this fear of dying prevail in you, you will straight begin to say as Peter, " I know not the man." When you see the faggots set, and fire ready, you will say as that apostate to the martyr, " Oh ! the fire is hot, and nature is frail," forgetting that the fire of hell is hotter. Sirs, as light as you make of it, you know not of what force these fears are to separate your souls from Jesus Christ. Have we not lately had frequent experience of it ? How many thousands have fled in fight, and turned their backs on a good cause, where they knew the honour of God was concerned.

and their country's welfiuo was the prize for which they fought, and the hopes of their posterity did lie at the stake, and all through unworthy fear of dying ! Have we not known those who, lying under a wounded conscience, and living in the practice of some known sin, durst scarce look the enemy in the face, because they durst not look death in the face, but have trembled, and drawn back, and cried, Alas ! I dare not die : if I were in the case of such and such, I durst die. He that dare not die, dare scarce fight valiantly. Therefore, we have seen in our late wars, that there is none more valiant than these two sorts: 1. Those who have conquered the fear of death by the power of faith; 2. And those who have extinguished it by desperate profaneness, and cast it away through stupid security. So much fear as we have of death, usually so much cowardice in the cause of God. However, it is an evident temptation and snare. Besides the multitude of unbelieving contrivances and discontents at the wise disposals of God, and hard thoughts of most of his providences, which this sin doth make us guilty of: besides, also, it loseth us much precious time, and that for the most part near our end. When time should be most precious of all to us, and when it should be employed to better purpose, then do we vainly and sinfully waste it in the fruitless issues of these distracting fears. So that you see how dangerous a snare these fears are, and how fruitful a parent of many evils.

Sect. XVm. 9. Consider, What a competent time the most of us have had; some thirty, some forty, some fifty or sixty years. How many come to the grave younger, for one that lives to the shortest of these ! Christ himself, as is generally thought, lived but thirty-three years on earth. If it were to come, as it is past, you would think thirty years a long time. Did you not, long ago, in your threatening sickness, think with yourselves. Oh, if I might but enjoy one seven years more, or ten years more ! And now you have enjoyed perhaps more than you then begged, and are you nevertheless unwilling yet ? except you would not die at all, but desire an immortality here on earth, which is a sin inconsistent with the truth of grace. If your sorrow be merely this, that you are mortal, you might as well have lamented it all your lives, for sure you could never be ignorant of this. Why should not a man that would die at all, be as w-ell willing at thirty or forty, if God see it meet, as at seventy or eighty ; nay, usually when the longest day is come, men are as loth to depart as ever. He that loseth so many years, hath more cause to bewail his own neglect, than to complain of the shortness of his time, and were better lament the wickedness of his life, than the brevity. Length of time doth not conquer corruption, it never withers nor decays through age. Except we receive an addition of grace, as well as time, we naturally grow the older the worse. Let us, then, be contented with our allotted proportion. And as we are convinced that we should not murmur against our assigned degree of wealth, of health, of honour, and other things here, so let us not be discontented with our allowed proportion of time. O my soul, depart in peace ! Hast thou not here enjoyed a

competent sliare ? As thou wouldst not desire an unlimited state in wealth and honour, so desire it not in point of time. Is it fit that God or thou should be the sharer. If thou wert sensible how little thou deservest an hour of that patience which thou hast enjoyed, thou wouldst think thou hast had a large part. Wouldst thou have thy age called back again ? canst thou eat thy bread, and have it too ? Is it not Divine wisdom that sets the bounds 1 God will not let one have all the work, nor all the suffering, nor all the honour of the work. He will honour himself by variety of instruments ; by various persons and several ages, and not by one person or age. Seeing thou hast acted thine own part, and finished thine appointed course, come down contentedljr, that others may succeed, who must have their turns as well as thou. As of all other outward things, so also of that time and life, thou mayst as well have too much as too little : only of God and eternal life, thou canst never enjoy too much, nor too long. Great receivings will have great accounts ; where the lease is longer, the fine and rent must be the greater. Much time hath much duty. Is it not as easy to answer for the receivings and the duties of thirty years, as of a hundred ? Beg therefore for grace to improve it better, but be contented with thy share of time.

Sect. XIX. 10. Consider, Thou hast had a competency of the comforts of life, and not of naked time alone. God might have made thy life a misery ; till thou hadst been as weary of possessing it, as thou art no,. afraid of losing it. If he had denied thee the benefits and ends of living, thy life would have been but a slender comfort. They in hell have life as well as we, and longer far than they desire. God might have suffered thee to have consumed thy days in ignorance, or to have spent thy life to the last hour, before he brought thee home to himself, and given thee the saving knowledge of Christ; and then thy life had been short, though thy time long. But he hath opened thine eyes in the morning of thy days, and acquainted thee betimes with the trade of thy life. I know the best are but negligent loiterers, and spend not their time according to its worth; but yet he that hath a hundred years' time, and loseth it all, lives not so long as he that hath but twenty, and bestows it well. It is too soon to go to hell at a hundred years old, and not too soon to go to heaven at twenty. The means are to be valued in reference to their end: that is the best means which speediliest and surest obtaineth the end. He that hath enjoyed most of the ends of life, hath had the best life, and not he that hath lived longest. You that are acquainted with the life of grace, what if you live but twenty or thirty years, would you change it for a thousand years of wickedness ? God might have let you have lived like the ungodly world, and then you would have had cause to be afraid of dying. We have lived in a place and time of light; in Europe, not in Asia, Africa, or America ; in England, not in Spain or Italy; in the age when knowledge doth most abound, and not in our forefathers' days of darkness. We have lived among Bibles, sermons, books, and Christians. As one acre of fruitful

soil is better than many of barren conunons ; as the possession of a kingdom for one year is better than a lease of a cottage for twenty ; so twenty or thirty years' living in such a place or age as we, is better than Methuselah's age, in the case of most of the world besides. And shall we not then be contented with our portion ? If we who are ministers of the gospel have seen abundant fruit of our labours ; if God have blessed our labour in seven years, more than some others in twenty or thirty ; if God have made us the happy, though unworthy, means of converting and saving more souls at a sermon, than some better men in all their lives; what cause have we to complain of the shortness of our time in the work of God? Would unprofitable, unsuccessful preaching have been comfortable ? Will it do us good to labour to little purpose, so we may but labour long ? If our desires of living are for the service of the church, as our deceitful hearts are still pretending, then sure if God honour us to do the more service, though in the lesser time, we have our desire. God will have each to have his share ; when we have had ours, let us rest contented. Persuade, then, thy backward soul to its duty, and argue down these dreadful thoughts. Unworthy wretch ! hath thy Father allowed thee so large a part, and caused thy lot to fall so well, and given thee thine abode in pleasant places, and filled up all thy life with mercies, and dost thou think thy share too small ? Is not that which thy life doth want in length, made up in breadth, and weight, and sweetness ? Lay all together, and look about thee, and tell me how many of thy neighbours have more ; how many in all the town or country have had a better share than thou. Why mightest not thou have been one of the thousands, whose carcasses thou hast seen scattered as dung on the earth; or why mightest not thou have been one that is useless in the church, and an unprofitable burden to the place thou livest in ? What a multitude of hours of consolation ; of delightful sabbaths ; of pleasant studies ; of precious companions ; of wondrous deliverances ; of excellent opportunities; of fruitful labours; of joyful tidings ; of sweet experiences ; of astonishing providences ; hath thy life partaken of! So that many a hundred who have each of them lived a hundred years, have not altogether enjoyed so much, and yet art thou not satisfied with thy lot ? Hath thy life been so sweet that thou art loth to leave it ? Is that the thanks thou re-turnest to him, who sweetened it to draw thee to his own sweetness ? Indeed, if this had been all thy portion, I could not blame thee to be discontented. And yet let me tell thee too, that of all these poor souls, who have no other portion, but receive all their good things in this life, there is few or none even of them who ever had so full a share as thyself. And hast thou not, then, had a fair proportion, for one that must shortly have heaven besides ? O foolish soul! would thou wert as covetous after eternity, as thou art for a fading, perishing life ; and after the blessed presence of God, as thou art for continuance with earth and sin ! Then thou wouldst rather look through the windows, and cry through the lattices.

" Why is his chariot so long a coming; why tarry the wheels of his chariots?" Judg. v. 28, How long, Lord ! how long !

Sect. XX. 11. Consider, What if God should grant thy desire, and let thee live yet many years, but withal should strip thee of the comforts of life, and deny thee the mercies which thou hast hitherto enjoyed; would this be a blessing worth the begging for ? Might not God in judgment give thee life, as he gave the murmuring Israelites quails ; or as he ofttimes give men riches and honour, when he sees them over-earnest for it ? Might he not justly say to thee. Seeing thou hadst rather linger on earth, than come away and enjoy my presence; seeing thou art so greedy of life, take it, and a curse with it; never let fruit grow on it more, nor the sun of comfort shine upon it, nor the dew of my blessing ever water it. Let thy table be a snare; let thy friends be thy sorrow ; let thy riches be corrupted, and the rust of thy silver eat thy flesh, James V. 2,3. Go, hear sermons as long as thou wilt, but let never sermon do thee good more ; let all thou hearest make against thee, and increase the smart of thy wounded spirit. If thou love preaching better than heaven, go and preach till thou be weary, but never profit soul more. Sirs, what if God should thus chastise our inordinate desires of living, were it not just ? and what good would our lives then do us ? Seest thou not some that spend their days on their couch in groaning; and some in begging by the highway sides ; and others in seeking bread from door to door ; and most of the world in labouring for food and raiment, and living only that th( y may live, and losing the ends and benefits of life ? Why, what good would such a life do thee, were it never so long; when thy soul shall serve thee only instead of salt, to keep thy body from stinking ? God might give thee life, till thou art weary of living, and as glad to be rid of it as Judas or Ahithophel, and make thee like many miserable creatures in the world, who can hardly forbear laying violent hands on themselves. Be not, therefore, so importunate for life, which may prove a judgment instead of a blessing.

Sect. XXI, 12. Consider, How many of the precious saints of God, of all ages and places, have gone before thee. Thou art not to enter an untrodden path, nor appointed first to break the ice. Except only Enoch and Elias, which of the saints have escaped death ? And art thou better than they ? There are many millions of saints dead, more than do now remain on earth. What a number of thine own bosom friends, and intimate acquaintance, and companions in duty, are now there ; and why shouldst thou be so loth to follow ? Nay, hath not Jesus Christ himself gone this way ? Hath he not sanctified the grave to us, and perfumed the dust with his own body ; and art thou loth to follow him too ? Oh ! rather let us say as Thomas, " Let us also go, and die with him;" or rather, let us suffer with him, that we may be glorified together with him.

Many such-like considerations might be added, as, that Christ hath taken out the sting; how light the saints have made of it;

how cheerfully the very pagans have entertained it ! &c. . But because all that is hitherto spoken, is also conduciblc to the same purpose, I pass them by. li" what hath been said will not persuade, Scripture and reason have little force.

I have saitl the more on this subject, finding it so needful to myself and others ; finding that among so many Christians, who could do and sutler much for Christ, there is yet so few that can willingly die ; and of many who have somewhat subdued other corruptions, so few have got the conquest of this. This caused me to draw forth these arrows from the. quiver of Scripture, and spend them against it.

Sect. XXII. I will only yet answer some objections, and so conclude this use.

Ohjcrt. 1. Oh! if I were but certain of heaven, I should then never stick at dying.

A/isw. 1. Search, for all that, whether some of the forementioned causes may not be in fault, as well as this.

2. Didst thou not say so long ago ? Have you not been in this song this many years 't If you are yet uncertain, whose fault is it ? You have had nothing else to do with your lives, nor no greater matter than this to mind. Were you not better presently fall to the trial, till you have put the question out of doubt 1 Must God stay while you trifle; and must his patience be continued to cherish your negligence ? If thou have played the loiterer, do so no longer. Go, search thy soul, and follow the search close, till thou come to a clear discovery. Begin to-night; stay not till the next morning. Certainty comes not by length of time, but by the blessing of the Spirit upon wise and faithful trial. You may linger out thus twenty years more, and be still as uncertain as now you are.

3. A perfect certainty may not be expected; we shall still be deficient in that as well as in other things. They who think the apostle speaks absolutely, and not comparatively, of a perfect assurance in the very degree, when he mentions a|j)lerophory or full assurance, I know no reason but they may expect perfection in all things else as well as this. When you have done all, you will know this but in part. If your belief of that scripture which saith, " Believe and be saved," be imperfect; and if your knowledge, whether your own deceitful hearts do sincerely believe or not, be imperfect; or if but one of these two be imperfect, the result or conclusion must needs be so too. If you would then stay till you are perfectly certain, you may stay for ever : if you have attained assurance but in some degree, or got but the grounds for assurance laid, it is then the speediest and surest way, to desire rather to be quickly in rest: for then, and never till then, will both the grounds and assurance be fully perfect.

4. Both your assurance, and the comfort thereof, is the gift of the Spirit, who is a free bestower; and God's usual time to be largest in mercy, is when his people are deepest in necessity. A mercy in season is the sweetest mercy. I could give you here

abundance of late examples of those who have languished for assurance and comfort; some all their sickness, and some most of their lives : and when they have been near to death they have received in abundance. Never fear death, then, through imperfection of assurance; for that is the most usual time of all, wheia God most fully and sweetly bestows it.

Object. 2. Oh ! but the church's necessities are great. God hath made me useful in my place ; so that the loss will be to many; or else, methinhs, I could willingly die.

Sect. XXIII. Answ. This may be the case of some, but yet remember the heart is deceitful. God is often pretended, when ourselves are intended. But if this be it that sticks with thee indeed, consider, wilt thou pretend to be wiser than God ? Doth not he know how to provide for his church ? Cannot he do his work without thee, or find out instruments enough besides thee ? Think not too highly of thyself, because God hath made thee useful. Must the church needs fall when thou art gone ? Art thou the foundation on which it is built ? Could God take away a Moses, an Aaron, David, Elias, &c. and find supply for all their places; and cannot he also find supply for thine ? This is to derogate from God too much, and to arrogate too much unto thyself. Neither art thou so merciful as God, nor canst love the church so well as he. As his interest is infinitely beyond thine, so is his tender care and bounty. But of this before.

Yet mistake me not in all that I have said. I deny not but that it is lawful and necessary for a Christian, upon both the before-mentioned grounds, to desire God to delay his death, both for a further opportunity of gaining assurance, and also to be further serviceable to the church. See Phil. ii. 26, 27. Time and life is a most precious mercy; not so much because of what we here enjoy, but because eternity of joy or torment dependeth on this time, when it must go with man for ever in heaven or hell, according to the provision he makes on earth ; and they that will find a treasure in heaven must now lay it up there, Matt. vi. 19, 20. I do not blame a man that is well in his wits, if he be loth to die, till he hath some comfortable assurance that it shall certainly go well with him in another world. And every man's assurance, as I have proved, is imperfect. And there I doubt not but, 1. We may pray for recovery from sicknesses. 2. And may rejoice in it, and give thanks for it, as a great mercy. 3. And may pray hard for our godly and ungodly friends in their sickness. 4. And must value our time highly, and improve it as a mercy which we must be accountable for. 5. And every godly man is so useful to the church, ordinarily, that, even for the church's service, he may desire to live longer, as Paul did, even till he come to the full age of man, and while he is able to serve the church, and it hath need of him. No man should be over-hasty to a state that must never be changed, when both assurance of glory and his fitness for it are still imperfect; and ordinarily the saints grow fitter in their age. But then this must not be in love of earth, but we must take it as our present loss to

be kept from heaven, though it may tend to the church's and our own future advantage, and so may be desired : so that you must still see that heaven be valued and loved above earth, even when you have cause to pray for longer time, as she that longs to be married to a prince, may desire delay for preparation. But, First, This is nothing to their case who are still delaying, and never willing ; whose true discontents are at death itself, more than at the un-seasonableness of dying. Secondly, Though such desires are sometimes lawful, yet must they be carefully bounded and moderated ; to which end are the former considerations. We must not be too absolute and peremptory in our desires, but cheerfully yic^ld to God's disposal. The rightest temper is that of Paul's, to be in a strait between two ; desiring to depart, and be with Christ, and yet to stay while God will have us, to do the church the utmost service. But, alas ! we are seldom in this strait: our desires run out all one way, and that for the flesh, and not the church, Phil. i. 23. Our straits arc only for fear of dying, and not betwixt the earnest desires of dying and of living. He that desireth life only to prepare for heaven, doth love heaven better than life on earth, for the end is still more beloved than all the means.

Sect. XXIV. Object. But is not cleatb a punishment of God for sin ? Doth not Scripture call it the " king of fears;" and nature, above all other evils, abhor it ?

Ansu\ I will not meddle with that which is controversial in this, whether death be properly a punishment or not; but grant that, in itself considered, it may be called evil, as being naturally the dissolution of the creature. Yet being sanctified to us by Christ, and being the season and occasion of so great a good, as is the present possession of God in Christ, it may be welcomed with a glad submission, if not with desire. Christ affords us grounds enough to comfort us against this natural evil; and therefore endues us with the principle of grace, to raise us above the reach of nature.

For all those low and poor objections, as leaving house, goods, and friends, leaving our children unprovided, &c. I pass them over, as of lesser moment, than to take much with men of grace.

Sect. XXV. Lastly, Understand me in this also, that I have spoken all this to the faithful soul. I persuade not the ungodly from fearing death. It is a wonder rather that they fear it no more, and spend not their days in continual horror, as is said before. Truly, but that we know a stone is insensible, and a hard heart is dead and stupid, or else a man would admire how poor souls can live in ease and quietness, that must be turned out of these bodies into everlasting flames ; or that be not sure, at least, if they should die this night, whether they shall lodge in heaven or hell the next, especially when many are called, and so few chosen, and the righteous themselves are scarcely saved. One would think such men would eat their bread with trembling, and the thoughts of their danger should keep them waking in the night, and they should fall presently a searching themselves, and inquiring of others, and crying to God, that if it were possible they might quickly be out of

2 I

this danger, and so their hearts be freed from horror. For a man to quake at the thoughts of death that looks hy it to be dispossessed of his happiness, and knoweth not whither he is next to go, this is no wonder. But for the saints to fear their passage by death to rest, this is an unreasonable, hurtful fear.

CHAPTER III.

MOTIVES TO A HEAVENLY LIFE.

Sect. I. We have now, by the guidance of the word of the Lord, and by the assistance of his Spirit, showed you the nature of the rest of the saints, and acquainted you with some duties in relation thereto. We come now to the close of all, to press you to the great duty, which I chiefly intended, when I begun this subject, and have here reserved it to the last place, because I know hearers are usually of slippery memories, yet apt to retain the last that is spoken, though they forget all that went before. Dear friends, it is pity that either you or I should forget any thing of that which doth so nearly concern us, as this eternal rest of the saints doth. But if you must needs forget something, let it be any thing else, rather than this ; let it be rather all that I have hitherto said (though I hope of better) than this one ensuing use.

Is there a rest, and such a rest, remaining for us ? Why then are our thoughts no more upon it ? Why are not our hearts continually there ? Why dwell we not there in constant contemplation ? Sirs, ask your hearts in good earnest. What is the cause of this neglect ? Are we reasonable in this, or are we not ? Hath the eternal God provided us such a glory, and promised to take us up to dwell with himself, and is not this worth the thinking on ? Should not the strongest desires of our hearts be after it, and the daily delights of our souls be there ? Do we believe this ; and can we yet forget and neglect it ? What is the matter? Will not God give us leave to approach this light; or will he not suifer our souls to taste and see it ? Why, then, what mean all his earnest invitations ? Why doth he so condemn our earthly-mindedness, and command vis to set our affections above. Ah, vile hearts ! if God were against it, we were likelier to be for it ; when he would have us to keep our station, then we are aspiring to be like God, and are ready to invade the Divine prerogatives; but when he commands our hearts to heaven, then they will not stir an inch : like our predecessors the sinful Israelittes; when God would have them march for Canaan, then they mutiny, and will not stir; either they fear the giants, or the walled cities, or want necessaries ; something hinders them ; but when God bids them not go, then will they needs be presently marching, and fight they will, though it be to their overthrow. If the forethoughts of glory were forbidden fruits.

perhaps we should be sooner drawn unto them, and we should itch, as the liethsheniites, to be looking into this ark. Sure I am, wiicre God hath forbidden us to place our thoughts and our do-lights, thither it is easy enough to draw them. If he say, " Lovo not the world, nor the things of the world," we dote upon it nevertheless. We have love enough if the world retjuire it, and thoughts enough to pursue our profits. How delightfully and unweariedly can we think of vanity ; and day after day employ our minds about the creature ! And have we no thoughts of this our rest i How freely and how frequently can we think of our pleasures, our friends, our labours, our flesh, our lusts, our conunon studies, our news ; yea, our very miseries, our wrongs, our sufferings, and our fears ! 13ut where is the Christian whose heart is on his rest ? Why, sirs, what is the matter ? Why are we not taken up with the views of glory, and our souls more accustomed to these delightful meditations .' Are we so full of joy that we need no more ? or, is there no matter in heaven for our joyous thoughts ? or rather, are not our hearts carnal and blockish !' Earth will to earth. Had we more spirit, it would be otherwise with us. As the Jews use to cast to the ground the book of Esther before they read it, because the name of God is not in it; and as Augustine cast by Cicero's writings, because they contained not the name of Jesus; so let us humble and cast down these sensual hearts that have in them no more of Christ and glory. As we should not own our duties any further than somewhat of Christ is in them, so should we no further own our hearts; and as we should delight in the creatures no further than they have reference to Christ and eternity, so should we no further approve of our own hearts. If there were little of Christ and heaven in our mouths, but the world were the only sul)-ject of our speeches, then all would account us to be ungodly; why then may we not call our hearts ungodly, that have so little delight in Christ and heaven ? . A holy tongue will not excuse or secure a profane heart. Why did Christ pronounce his disciples' eyes and ears so blessed, but as they were doors to let in Christ by his works and words into their heart ? Oh, blessed are the eyes that so see, and the ears that so hear, that the heart is thereby raised to this blessed, heavenly frame. Sirs, so much of your hearts as is empty of Christ and heaven, let it be filled with shame and sorrow, and not with ease.

Sect. II. But let me turn my reprehension to exhortation, that you would turn this conviction into reformation. And I have the more hope because I here address myself to men of conscience, that dare not wilfully disobey God; and to men whose relations to God are many and near, and therefore, methinks, there should need the fewer words to persuade their hearts to him ; yea, because I speak to no other men but only them whose portion is there, whose hopes are there, and who have forsaken all, that they may enjoy this glory : and shall I be discouraged from persuading such to be heavenly-minded ? Why, fellow Christians, if you will not hear and obey, who will ? Well may we be discouraged to exhort the 2 I 2

poor, blind, ungodly world, and may say, as Moses, " Behold, the children of Israel have not hearkened unto me, how then shall Pharaoh hear me ?" Exod. xvi. 12. Whoever thou art, therefore, that readest these lines, I require thee, as thou tenderest thine allegiance to the God of heaven, as ever thou hopest for a part in this glory, that thou presently take thy heart to task; chide it for its wilful strangeness to God; turn thy thoughts from the pursuit of vanity; bend thy soul to study eternity; busy it about the life to come; habituate thyself to such contemplations, and let not those thoughts be seldom and cursory, but settle upon them; dwell here : bathe thy soul in heaven's delights ; drench thine affections in these rivers of pleasure, or rather, in this sea of consolation; and if thy backward soul begin to flag, and thy loose thoughts to fly abroad, call them back, hold them to their work' put them on, bear not with their laziness, do not connive at one neglect; and when thou hast once in obedience to God tried this work, and followed on till thou hast got acquainted with it, and kept a close guard upon thy thoughts till they are accustomed to obey, and till thou hast got some mastery over them, thou wilt then find thyself in the suburbs of heaven, and, as it were, in a new world; thou wilt then find, indeed, that there is sweetness in the work and way of God, and that the life of Christianity is a life of joy. Thou wilt meet with those abundant consolations, which thou hast prayed, and panted, and groaned after, and which so few Christians do ever here obtain, because they know not the way to them, or else make not conscience of walking in it.

You see the work now before you: this, this is that I would fain persuade your souls to practise. Beloved friends, and Christian neighbours, who hear me this day, let me bespeak your consciences in the name of Christ, and command you by the authority I have received from Christ, that you faithfully set upon this weighty duty, and fix your eye more stedfastly on your rest, and daily delight in the forethoughts thereof. I have persuaded you to many other duties, and (I bless God) many of you have obeyed; and I hope never to find you at that pass as to say, when you perceive the command of the Lord, that you will not be persuaded, nor obey ; if I should, it were high time to bewail your misery. Why, you may almost as well say, We will not obey, as sit still and not obey. Christians, I beseech you, as you take me for your teacher, and have called me hitherto, so hearken to this doctrine. If ever I shall prevail with you in any thing, let me prevail with you in this, to set your hearts where you expect a rest and treasure. Do you not remember that when you called me to be your teacher, you promised me under your hands that you would faithfully and conscionably endeavour the receiving every truth, and obeying every command, which I should from the word of God manifest to you ? I now charge your promise upon you : I never delivered to you a more apparent truth, nor pressed upon you a more apparent duty than this. If I knew you would not obey, what should I do here preaching ? Not that I desire you to receive it chiefly as from

iiic, but as from Christ, on whose message I come. Mothinks if a child should show you Scripture, and speak to you the word of God, you should not dare to disobey it. Do not wonder that I persuade you so earnestly, though indeed if we were truly reasonable in spiritual things, as we are in connnon, it would be a real wonder that men should n(^ed so much persuasion to so sweet and plain a duty; but I know the employment is high, the heart is earthly, and will still draw back ; the temptations and hinderances will be many and great, and therefore I fear before we have done, and laid open more fully the nature of the duty, that you will confess all these persuasions little enough. The Lord grant they prove not so too little, as to fail of success, and leave you as they find you. Say not, We are unable to set our own hearts on heaven, this must be the work of God only, and therefore all your exhortation is in vain ; for I tell you, though God be the chief disposer of your hearts, yet next under him you have the greatest command of them yourselves, and a great power in the ordering of your own thoughts, and for determining your own wills in their choice : though without Christ you can do nothing, yet under him you may do much, and must do much, or else it will be undone, and you undone through your neglect. Do your own parts, and you have no cause to distrust whether Christ will do his. Do not your own consciences tell you, when your thoughts fly abroad, that you might do more than you do to restrain them ; and when your hearts lie flat, and neglect eternity, and seldom mind the joys before you, that most of this neglect is wilful ? If you be to study a set speech, you can force your thoughts to the intended subject; if a minister be to study a sermon, he can force his thoughts to the most saving truths, and that without any special grace ; might not a true Christian then mind more the things of the life to come, if he did not neglect to exercise that authority over his own thoughts which God hath given him ? especially in such a work as this, where he may more confidently expect the assistance of Christ, who useth not to forsake his people in the work he sets them on ? If a carnal minister can make it his work to study about Christ and heaven through all his life-time, and all because it is the trade he lives by, and knows not how to subsist without it, why, then, methinks a spiritual Christian should study as constantly the joys of heaven, because it is the very business he lives for, and that the place he must be in for ever. If the cook can find in his heart to labour and sweat about 5-our meat, because it is the trade that maintains him, though perhaps he taste it not himself, methinks then you, for whom it is prepared, should willingly bestow that daily pains to taste its sweetness, and feed upon it; and if it were about your bodily food, you would think it no great pains neither. A good stomach takes it for no groat labour to eat and drink of the best till it be satisfied ; nor needs it any great invitation thereto. Christians, if your souls were sound and right, they would perceive incomparably more delight and sweetness in knowing, thinking, believing, loving, and rejoicing, in your future blessedness in the fruition of God. than the

soundest stomach finds in its food, oi- the strongest senses in the enjoyment of their objects ; so little painful would this work be to you, and so little should I need to press you to it. It is no great pains to you to think of a friend, or any thing else that you dearly love; and as little would it be to think of glory, if your love and delight were truly there. If you do but see some jewel, or treasure, you need not long exhortations to stir up your desires, the very sight of it is motive enough. If you see the fire when you are cold, or see a house in a stormy day, or see a safe harbour from the tempestuous sea, you need not be told what use to make of it; the sight doth presently direct your thought; you think, you look, you long, till you do obtain it. Why should it not be so in the present case ? Sirs, one would think, to show you this crown and glory of the saints, should be motive enough to make you desire it; to show you that harbour where you may be safe from all dangers, should soon teach you what use to make of it, and should bend your daily studies towards it; but because I know while we have flesh about us, and any remnants of that carnal mind which is enmity to God, and to this noble work, that all motives are little enough ; and because my own and others' sad experience tell me, how hardly the best are drawn to a constancy and faithfulness in this duty ; I will here lay down some moving considerations, which, if you will but vouchsafe to ponder thoroughly, and deliberately weigh wdth an impartial judgment, I doubt not but they will prove effectual with your hearts, and make you resolve upon this excellent duty. I pray you, friends, let them not fall to the ground, but take them up, and try them, and if you find them concern you, make much of them, and obey them accordingly.

Sect. III. 1. Consider, A heart set upon heaven will be one of the most unquestionable evidences of thy sincerity, and a clear discovery of a true work of saving grace upon thy soul. You are much in inquiring after marks of sincerity, and I blame you not; it is dangerous mistaking when a man's salvation lies upon it. You are oft asking. How shall I know that I am truly sanctified ? Why, here is a mark that will not deceive you, if you can truly say that you are possessed of it; even a heart set upon heaven. Would you have a sign infallible, not from me, or from the mouth of any man, but from the mouth of Jesus Christ himself, which all the enemies of the use of marks can lay no exception against ? Why, here is such a one, " Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also," Matt. vi. 21. Know once assuredly where your heart is, and you may easily know that your treasure is there. God is the saints' treasure and happiness; heaven is the place where they must fully enjoy him. A heart therefore set upon heaven is no more but a heart set upon God, desiring after this full enjoyment; and, surely, a heart set upon God through Christ, is the truest evidence of saving grace. External actions are easiest discovered, but those of the heart are the surest evidences. When thy learning will be no good proof of thy grace ; when thy knowledge, thy duties, and thy gifts, will fail thee ; when arguments from thy tongue and thy

hand may be confuted ; yet then will this argument from the bent of thy heart prove thee sincere. Take a poor Christian that can scarce speak true English about religion, that hath a weak understanding, a failing memory, a stammering tongue, yet his heart is set on God, he hath chosen him for his portion; his thoughts are on eternity ; his desires there, his dwelling there ; he cries out, Oh that I were there ! He takes that day for a time of imprisonment, wherein he hath not taken one refreshing view of eternity. I had rather die in this man's condition, and have my soul in his soul's case, than in the case of him that hath the most eminent gifts, and is most admired for parts and duty, whose heart is not thus taken up with God. The man that Christ will find out at the last day, and condemn for want of a wedding garment, will he be that wants this frame of heart. The question will not then be. How much you have known, or professed, or talked { but, How much have you loved, and where was your heart ? Why, then. Christians, as you would have a sure testimony of the love of God, and a sure proof of your title to glory, labour to get your hearts above. God will acknowledge that you really love him, and take you for faithful friends indeed, when he sees your hearts are set upon him. Get but your hearts once truly in heaven, and, without all question, yourselves will follow. Jf sin and Satan keep not thence your afections, they will never be able to keep away your persons.

Sect. IV. 2. Consider, A heart in heaven is the highest excellency of your spirits here, and the noblest part of your Christian disposition : as there is not only a difference between men and beasts, but also among men, between the noble and the base ; so there is not only a common excellency, whereby a Christian differs from the w orld, but also a peculiar nobleness of spirit, whereby the more excellent differ from the rest: and this lies especially in a higher and more heavenly frame of spirit. Only man, of all inferior creatures, is made with a face directed heavenward; but other creatures have their faces to the earth. As the noblest of creatures, so the noblest of Christians, are they that are set most direct for heaven. As Saul is called a choice and goodly man, higher by the head than all the company; so is he the most choice and goodly Christian, whose head and heart is thus the highest, 1 Sam. ix. 2; X. 23, 24. Men of noble birth and spirits, do mind high and great affairs, and not the smaller things of low poverty. Their discourse is of councils and matters of state, of the government of the commonwealth, and public things; and not of the countryman's petty employments. Oh ! to hear such a heavenly saint, who hath ietched a journey into heaven by faith, and hath been raised up to God in his contemplations, and is newly come down from the views of Christ, what discoveries will he make of those superior regions ! What ravishing expressions drop from his lips ! How high and sacred is his discourse ! Enough to make the ignorant world astonished, and perhaps say, " Much study hath made them mad," Acts xxvi. 24; and enough to convince an understanding hearer

that they have seen the Lord; and to make one say, No man could speak such words as these, except he had been with God. This, this is the noble Christian ; as Bucholcer's hearers concluded, when he had preached his last sermon, being carried between two into the church, because of his weakness, and there most admirably discoursed of the blessedness of souls departed this life, Cceteros concionatores a BucJiolcero semiJer omnes, illo aulem die eiiam ipsuin a aese superatiijn, that Bucholcer did ever excel other preachers, but that day he excelled himself; so may I conclude of the heavenly Christian, he ever excelleth the rest of men, but when he is nearest heaven he excelleth himself. As those are the most famous mountains that are highest ; and those the fairest trees that are tallest; and those the most glorious pyramids and buildings whose tops do reach nearest to heaven ; so is he the choicest Christian, whose heart is most frequently and most delightfully there. If a man have lived near the king, or have travelled to see the sultan of Persia, or the great Turk, he will make this a matter of boasting, and thinks himself one step higher than his private neighbours, that live at home. What shall we then judge of him that daily travels as far as heaven, and there hath seen the King of kings I that hath fi-equent admittance into the Divine presence, and feasteth his soul upon the tree of life ? For my part, I value this man before the ablest, the richest, the most learned in the v/orld.

Sect. V. 3. Consider, A heavenly mind is a joyful mind ; this is the nearest and the truest way to live a life of comfort. xAnd without this you must needs be uncomfortable. Can a man be at the fire, and not be warm ; or in the sunshine, and not have light ? Can your heart be in heaven, and not have comfort ? The countries of Norway, Iceland, and all the northward, are cold and frozen, because they are farther from the power of the sun; but in Egypt, Arabia, and the southern parts, it is far otherwise, where they live more near its powerful rays. What could make such frozen, uncomfortable Christians, but living so far as they do from heaven ? And what makes some few others so warm in comforts, but their living higher than others do, and their frequent access so near to God 1 When the sun in the spring draws near our part of the earth, how do all things congratulate its approach ! The earth looks green, and casteth off her mourning habit; the trees shoot forth; the plants revive ; the pretty birds, how sweetly do they sing ! the face of all things smiles upon us, and all the creatures below rejoice. Beloved friends, if we would but try this life with God, and would but keep these hearts above, what a spring of joy would be within us, and all our graces be fresh and green ! How would the face of our souls be changed, and all that is within us rejoice ! How should we forget our winter sorrows, and withdraw our souls from our sad retirements ! How early should we rise (as those birds in the spring) to sing the praise of our great Creator! O Christian, get above : believe it, that region is warmer than this below. Those that have been there have found it so, and those

that have come thonce have told us so: and I doubt not but that thou hast sometime tried it thyself. I dare appeal to thy own experience, or to the experience ot* any soul that knows wliat the true joys of a Christian are : when is it that you have largest comforts { Is it not after such an exercise as this, wIkmi thou hast got up thy heart, and conversed with God, and talked with the inhabitants of the higher world, and viewed the mansions of the saints and angels, and filled thy soul with the forethoughts of glory ? If thou know by experience what this practice is, I dare say thou knowest what spiritual joy is. David professeth that the light of God's countenance would make his heart more glad than theirs that have corn, and wine, and oil. " Thou shalt fill me full of joy with thy countenance," Psal. iv. G, 7 ; and Acts ii. 28, out of Psal. xvi. If it be the countenance of God that fills us with joy, then sure they that draw nearest, and most behold it, must needs be fullest of these joys. Sirs, if you never tried this art, nor lived this life of heavenly contemplation, I never wonder that you walk uncomfortably, that you are all complaining, and live in sorrows, and know not what the joy of the saints means. Can you have comforts from God, and never think of him ? Can heaven rejoice you, when you do not remember it ! Doth any thing in the world glad you, when you think not on it ? Must not every thing first enter your judgment and consideration, before it can delight your heart and afft^ction ? If you were possessed of all the treasures of the earth, if you had title to the highest dignities and dominions, and never think on it, sure it would never rejoice you. Whom should we blame then, that we are so void of consolation, but our own negligent, unskilful hearts ? God hath provided us a crow-n of glory, and promised to set it shortly on our heads, and we will not so much as think of it: he holdeth it out in the gospel to us, and biddeth us behold and rejoice ; and we will not so much as look at it; and yet we complain for want of comfort. A\'hat a perverse course is this, both against God and our own joys ! I confess, though in fleshly things, the presenting of a comforting object is sufficient to produce an answerable delight, yet in spirituals we are more disabled. God must give the joy itself, as well as afford us matter for joy : but yet withal, it must be remembered, that God doth work upon us as men, and in a rational way doth raise our comforts : he enableth and exciteth us to mind and study these delightful objects, and from thence to gather our own comforts, as the bee doth gather her honey from the flowers ; therefore he that is most skilful and painful in this gathering art, is usually the fullest of this spiritual sweetness. Where is the man that can tell me from experience, that he hath solid and usual joy in any other way but this, and that God worketh it immediately on his affections, without the means of his understanding and considering ? It is by believing that we are filled with joy and peace, Rom. xv. 13; and no longer than we continue our believing. . It is in hope that the saints rejoice, yea, in this hope of the glory of God,-- Rom. v. 2 ; and no longer than they continue hoping. And here let me warn you of a dangerous

snare, an opinion which will rob you of all your comfort: some think, if they should thus fetch in their comfort by believing and hoping, and work it out of Scripture promises, and extract it by their own thinking and studying, that then it would be a comfort only of their own hammering out, (as they say,) and not the genuine joy of the Holy Ghost. A desperate mistake, raised upon a ground that would overthrow almost all duty, as well as this, which is their setting the workings of God's Spirit and their own spirits in opposition, when their spirits must stand in subordination to God's: they are conjunct causes, co-operating to the producing of one and the same effect. God's Spirit worketh our comforts, by setting our own spirits a-work upon the promises, and raising our thoughts to the place of our comforts. As you would delight a covetous man by showing him gold, or a voluptuous man with fleshly delights ; so God useth to delight his people, by taking them, as it were, by the hand, and leading them into heaven, and showing them himself, and their rest with him, God useth not to cast in our joys while we are idle, or taken up with other things. It is true, he sometimes doth it suddenly, but yet usually in the foresaid order, leading it into our hearts by our judgment and thoughts: and his sometimes sudden extraordinary casting of comforting thoughts in our hearts, should be so far from hindering endeavours in a meditating way, that it should be a singular motive to quicken us to it; even as a taste given us of some cordial or choicer food, will make us desire and seek the rest. God feedeth not saints as birds do their young, bringing it to them, and putting it into their mouths, while they lie still in the nest, and only gape to receive it. But as he giveth to man the fruits of the earth, the increase of their land in corn and wine, while we plough, and sow, and weed, and water, and dung, and dress, and then with patience expect his blessing ; so doth he give the joys of the soul. Yet I deny not, that if any should so think to work out his own comforts by meditation, as to attempt the work in his own strength, and not do all in subordination to God, nor perceive a necessity of the Spirit's assistance, the work would prove to be like the workman, and the comfort he would gather would be like both ; even mere vanity : even as the husbandman's labour without the sun, and rain, and blessing of God.

So then you may easily see, that close meditation on the matter and cause of our joy, is God's way to procure solid joy. For my part, if I should find my joy of another kind, I should be very prone to doubt of its sincerity. If I find a great deal of comfort in my heart, and know not how it came thither, nor upon what rational ground it was raised, nor what considerations do feed and continue it, I should be ready to question, How I know whether this be from God ? And though, as the cup in Benjamin's sack, it might come from love, yet it would leave me but in fears and amazements, because of uncertainty. As I think our love to God should not be like that of fond lovers, who love violently, but they know not why; so I think a Christian's joy should be grounded, rational joy, and

not to lojoice, and know not why. Though perhaps in some extraordinary caso, God may cast in such an extraordinary kind of joy, yet I think it is not his usual way. And it' you ohserve the spirit of most forlorn, uncomfortable, despairing Christians, you shall find tlio reason to be, their ungrounded expectation of such unusual kind of joys ; and accordingly are their spirits variously tossed, and most unconstantly tempered: sometimes, when they mert with such joys, (or at least think so,) then they are cheerful and lifted up ; but because these are usually short-lived joys, therefore they are straight as low as hell; and ordinarily that is their more lasting temper. And thus they are tossed as a vessel at sea, up and down, but still in extremes ; whereas, alas ! God is most constant, Christ the same, heaven the same, and the promise the same : and if we took the right course for fetching in our comfort from these, sure our comforts should be more settled and constant, though not always the same. Whoever thou art, therefore, that readest these lines, I entreat thee in the name of the Lord, and as thou vainest the life of constant joy, and that good conscience Mhich is a continual feast, that thou wouldst but seriously set upon this work, and learn the art of heavenly-mindedness, and thou shalt find the increase a hundredfold, and the benefit abundclntly exceed thy labour. But this is the misery of man's nature : though every man naturally abhorreth sorrow, and loves the most merry and joyful life ; yet few do love the way to joy, or will endure the pains by which it is obtained : they will take the next that comes to hand, and content themselves with earthly pleasures, rather than they will ascend to heaven to seek it; and yet when all is done, they must have it there, or be without it.

Sect. VI. 4. Consider, A heart in heaven will be a most excellent preservative against temptations, a powerful means to kill thy corruptions, and to save thy conscience from the wounds of sin. God can prevent our sinning, though we be careless ; and keep oif the temptation which we would draw upon ourselves, and sometimes doth so ; but this is not his usual course, nor is this our safest way to escape. When the mind is either idle, or ill employed, the devil needs not a greater advantage : when he finds the thoughts let out on lust^ revenge, ambition, or deceit, what an opportunity hath he to move for execution, and to put on the sinner to practise what he thinks on ! Nay, if he find but the mind empty, there is room for any thing that he will bring in : but when he finds the heart in heaven, what hope that any of these motions should take i Let him entice to any forbidden course, or show us the bait of any pleasure, the soul will return Nehemiah's answer, " I am doing a great work, and cannot come," Neh. vi. 3. Several ways will this preserve us against temptation : First, By keeping the heart employed : Secondly, By clearing the understanding, and so confirming the will: Thirdly, By prepossessing the affections with the highest delights : Fourthly. And by keeping us in the way of God's blessing.

First, By keeping the heart employed. When we are idle, we tempt the devil to tempt us: as it is an encouragement to a thief, to

see your doors open, and nobody within; and as we use to say, Careless persons make thieves : so it will encourage Satan, to find your hearts idle; but when the heart is taken up with God, it cannot have while to hearken to temptations; it cannot have while to be lustful and wanton, ambitious or worldly : if a poor man have a suit to any of you, he will not come when you are taken up in some great man's company or discourse ; that is but an ill time to speed.

If you were but busied in your lawful callings, you would not be so ready to hearken to temptations; much less if you were busied above with God. Will you leave your plough and harvest in the field, or leave the quenching of a tire in your houses, to run with children a hunting of butterflies ? would a judge be persuaded to rise from the bench, when he is sitting upon life and death, to go and play among the boys in the streets ? No more will a Christian, when he is busy with God, and taking a survey of his eternal rest, give ear to the alluring charms of Satan. Non vacat exigids, &c. is a character of the truly prudent man; the children of that kingdom should never have while for trifles, but especially when they are employed in the affairs of the kingdom; and this employment is one of the saints' chief preservatives against temptation. For, as Gregory saith, Nunquam Dei amor otiosus est: operatur enim tnagna, si est: si vero operari rennit, non est amor; The love of God is never idle ; it worketh great things when it truly is ; and when it will not work, it is not love. Therefore, being still thus working, it is still preserving.

Secondly, A heavenly mind is freest from sin, because it is of clearest understanding in spiritual matters of greatest concernment. A man that is much in conversing above, hath truer and livelier apprehensions of things concerning God and his soul, than any reading or learning can beget: though, perhaps, he may be ignorant in divers controversies and matters that less concern salvation; yet those truths which must establish his soul, and preserve him from temptation, he knows far better than the greatest scholars : he hath so deep an insight into the evil of sin, the vanity of the creature, the brutishness of fleshly, sensual delights, that temptations have little power on him; for these earthly vanities are Satan's baits, which, though they may take much with the undiscerning world, yet, with the clear-sighted, they have lost their force. " In vain," saith Solomon, " the net is spread in the sight of any bird," Prov. i. 17. And usually in vain doth Satan lay his snares to entrap the soul that plainly sees them. When a man is on high, he may see the further : we use to set our discovering sentinels on the highest place that is near unto us, that they may discern all the motions of the enemy. In vain doth the enemy lay his ambuscades when we stand over him on some high mountain, and clearly discover all he doth : when the heavenly mind is above with God, he may far easier from thence discern every danger that lies below, and the whole method of the devil in deceiving; nay, if he did not discover the snare, yet were he likelier far to escape it than any others that converse below. A net or bait that is laid on the ground, is unlikely to

catch the bird that flies in the air; while she keeps above, she is out of chmger, and the higher the safer; so it is with us. Satan's temptations are hiid on the earth, earth is the place, and earth is the ordinary bait: how shall these insnare the Christian who hath left the earth, and walks with God ? ]5ut, alas ! we keep not long so high, but down we must to the earth again, and then we are taken.

If conversing with wise and learned men is the way to make one wise and learned, then no wonder if he that converseth with God become wise.* If men that travel about the earth, do think to return home with more experience and wisdom, how much more he that travels to heaven ! As the very air and climate that we most abide in, do work our bodies to their own temper, no wonder if he that is much in that sublime and purer region, have a purer soul and quicker sight, and if he have an understanding full of light, who liveth with the Sun, the Fountain, the Father of light: as certain herbs and meats we feed on, do tend to make our sight more clear, so the soul that is fed with angels' food, nmst needs have an understanding much more clear, than they that dwell and feed on earth. And, therefore, you may easily see that such a man is in far less danger of temptation, and Satan will hardlier beguile his soul, even as a wise man is hardlier deceived than fools and children. Alas ! the men of the world that dwell below and know no other conversation but earthly, no wonder if their understandings be darkened, and they be easily drawn to every wickedness ; no wonder if Satan take them captive at his will, 2 Tim. ii. 26, and lead them about, as we see a dog lead a blind man with a string. The foggy air and mists of earth do thicken their sight; the smoke of worldly care and business blinds them, and the dungeon which they live in is a land of darkness. How can worms and moles see, whose dwelling is always in the earth i While this dust is in men's eyes, no wonder if they mistake gain for godliness, sin for grace, the world for God, their own wills for the law of Christ, and in the issue, hell for heaven. If the people of God will but take notice of their own hearts, they shall find their experiences confirming this that I have said. Christians, do you not sensibly perceive, that when your hearts are seriously fixed on heaven, you presently become wiser than before ? Are not your understandings more solid, and your thoughts more sober ? Have you not truer apprehensions of things than you had ? For my own part, if ever I be wise, it is when I have been much above, and seriously studied the life to come. Methinks I find my understanding after such contemplations as much to differ from what it was before, as I before differed from a fool or idiot. When my understanding is weakened, and befooled witli common employment, and with conversing long with the vanities below, methinks a few sober thoughts of my Father's house, and the blessed provision of his family in heaven, doth make me, with the prodigal, to come to myself again. Surely, when a

* Itali habent proverbiumhoc, Qui Veiietias non vidit, non credit: et qui uliquando ibi non visit, non intelligit. Quod de vita hac coelesti verissimum.

Christian withdraws himself from his earthly thoughts, and begins to converse with God in heaven, he is as Nebuchadnezzar, taken from the beasts of the field to the throne, and his understanding returneth to him again. Oh, when a Christian hath had but a glimpse of eternity, and then looks down on the world again, how doth he befool himself for his sin ; for neglects of Christ; for his fleshly pleasures; for his earthly cares ! How doth he say to his laughter. Thou art mad ! and to his vain mirth, What dost thou ? How could he even tear his very flesh, and take revenge on himself for his folly ! How verily doth he think there is no man in bedlam so truly mad as wilful sinners and lazy betrayers of their own souls, and unworthy slighters of Christ and glory !

This is it that makes a dying man to be usually wiser than other men are, because he looks on eternity as near, and knowing he must very shortly be there, he hath more deep and heart-piercing thoughts of it than ever he could have in health and prosperity. Therefore it is that the most deluded sinners that v.'ere cheated with the world, and bewitched with sin, do then most ordinarily come to themselves, so far as to have a righter judgment than they had; and that many of the most bitter enemies of the saints would give a world to be such themselves, and would fain die in the condition of those whom they hated; even as wicked Balaam, when his eyes are open to see the perpetual blessedness of the saints, will cry out, " Oh that I might die the death of the righteous, and that my last end might be like his ! " As witches when they are taken, and in prison, or at the gallows, have no power left them to bewitch any more; so we see commonly the most ungodly men, when they see they must die, and go to another world, their judgments are so changed, and their speech so changed, as if they were not the same men, as if they were come to their wits again, and sin and Satan had power to bewitch them no more. Yet let the same men recover, and lose their apprehension of the life to come, and how quickly do they lose their understandings with it! In a word, those that were befooled with the world and the flesh, are far wiser when they come to die; and those that were wise before, are now wise indeed. If you would take a man's judgment about sin, or grace, or Christ, or heaven, go to a dying man, and -ask him which you were best to choose ? Ask him whether you were best be drunk or no; or be lustful, or proud, or revengeful, or no ? Ask him whether you were best pray, and instruct your families, or no; or to sanctify the Lord's day, or no? Though some to the death may be desperately hardened, yet, for the most part, I had rather take a man's judgment then, about ihese things, than at any other time. For my own part, if my judgment be ever solid, it is when I have the seriousest apprehensions of the life to come ; nay, the sober mention of death sometimes will a little compose the most distracted understanding. Sirs, do you not think, except men are stark devils, but that it would be a harder matter to entice a man to sin when he lies a dying, than it was before ? If the devil, or his instruments, should then tell him of a cup of sack, of merry com-

Chai>. hi. the SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. lii.O

pany, of a stage-play, or a morris-dance, do you think he would then be so taken with the motion .' If he should then tell him of riches, or honours, or show him a pair of cards, or dice, or a whore, would the temptation, think you, be as strong as before I Would he not answer, Alas ! what is all this to me, who must presently appear before God, and give account of all my life, and straightways l)e in another world ! Why, Christian, if the apprehension of the nearness of eternity will work such strange efl'ects upon the ungodly, and make them wiser than to be deceived so easily as they were wont to be in time of health, oh ! then, what rare eifects would it work with thee, and make thee scorn the baits of sin, if thou couldst always dwell in the views of God, and in lively thoughts of thine everlasting state ! Surely a believer, if he improve his faith, may ordinarily have truer and more quickening apprehensions of the life to come, in the time of his health, than an unbeliever hath at the hour of his death.

Thirdly, Furthermore, a heavenly mind is exceedingly fortified against temptations, because the aifections are so thoroughly prepossessed with the high delights of another world. Whether Satan do not usually by the sensitive appetite prevail with the will, without any further prevailing with the reason, than merely to suspend it, I will not now dispute ; but, doubtless, when the soul is not aftVcted with good, though the understanding do never so clearly apprehend the truth, it is easy for Satan to entice that soul. Mere speculations, be they never so true, which sink not into the affections, arc poor preservatives against temptations. He that loves most, and not only he that knows most, will easilicst resist the motions of sin. There is in a Christian a kind of spiritual taste whereby he knows these things, besides his mere discursive reasoning power : the will doth as sweetly relish goodness, as the understanding doth truth, and here lies much of a Christian's strength. If you should dispute with a simple man, and labour to persuade him that sugar is not sweet, or that wormwood is not bitter, perhaps you might by sophistry over-argue his mere reason, but yet you could not persuade him against his sense ; whereas, a man that hath lost his taste, is easilier deceived for all his reason. So is it here ; when thou hast had a fresh delightful taste of heaven, thou wilt not be so easily persuaded from it; you cannot persuade a very child to part with his apple while the taste of its sweetness is yet in his mouth. Oh that you would be persuaded to try this course, to be much in feeding on the hidden manna, and to be frequently tasting the delights of heaven! It is true, it is a great way off from our sense, but faith can reach as far as that. How would this raise thy resolutions, and make thee laugh at the fooleries of the world, and scorn to be cheated with such childish toys ! Reader, I pray thee tell me in good sadness, dost thou think, if the devil had set upon Peter in the mount, when he saw Christ in his transfiguration, and Moses and Elias talking with him, would he so easily have been drawn to deny his Lord ? What! with all that glory in his eye ? No, the devil took a greater advantage, v.'hen he

had him in the high priest's hall, in the midst of danger and evil company, wlien he had forgotten the sight of the mount, and then he prevails : so if he should set upon a believing soul, when he is taken up in the mount with Christ, what would such a soul say ? Get thee behind me, Satan ; wouldst thou persuade me from hence with trifling pleasures, and steal my heart from this my rest; wouldst thou have me sell these joys for nothing ? Is there any honour or delight like this ; or can that be profit which loseth me this ? Some such answer would the soul return. But, alas! Satan stays till we are come down, and the taste of heaven is out of our mouths, and the glory we saw is even forgotten, and then he easily deceives our hearts. What if the devil had set upon Paul, when he was in the third heaven, and seeing those unutterable things, could he then, do you think, have persuaded his heart to the pleasures, or profits, or honours of the world ? If his prick in the flesh, which he after received, were not affliction, but temptation, sure it prevailed not, but sent him to heaven again for preserving grace. Though the Israelites below may be enticed to idolatry, and from eating and drinking to rise up to play, yet Moses in the mount with God will not do so ; and, if they had been where he was, and had but seen what he there saw, perhaps they would not so easily have sinned. If he give a man aloes after honey, or some loathsome thing when he hath been feeding on junkets, will he not soon perceive, and spit it out ? Oh, if we could keep the taste of our soul continually delighted with the sweets above, with what disdain should we spit out the baits of sin !

Fourthly, Besides, whilst the heart is set on heaven, a man is under God's protection ; and, therefore, if Satan then assault him, God is more engaged for his defence, and will doubtless stand by us, and say. My grace is sufficient for thee : when a man is in the way of God's blessing, he is in the less danger of sin's enticings.

So that now, upon all this, let me entreat thee. Christian reader, if thou be a man that is haunted with temptation, (as doubtless thou art, if thou be a man,) if thou perceive thy danger, and wouldst fain escape it, O use much this powerful remedy; keep close with God by a heavenly mind; learn this art of diversion ; and when the temptation comes, go straight to heaven, and turn thy thoughts to higher things; thou shalt find this a surer help than any other resisting whatsoever. As men will do with scolding women, let them alone and follow their business, as if they heard not what they said; and this will sooner put them to silence, than if they answered them word for word ; so do by Satan's temptations : it may be he can over-talk you, and over-wit you in dispute ; but let him alone, and study not his temptations, but follow your business above with Christ, and keep your thoughts to their heavenly em-plo^'ment, and you sooner will this way vanquish the temptation, than if you argued or talked it out with the tempter : not but that sometimes it is most convenient to over-reason him ; but in ordinary temptations, you shall find it far better to follow this your work, and neglect the allurements, and say, as Gryneus (out of

Chrysost.) when he sent back Pistorius's letters, not so much as opening the seal, Lihoiwstuin est huvcstam matronnm cum ntere-Irk-c Utignre; It is an unseemly thing for an honest matron to be scolding with a whore : so it is a dishonest thing for a son of God, in apparent cases, to stand wrangling with the devil, and to bo so far at his beck as to dispute with him at his pleasure, even as oft as he will be pleased to tempt us. Christian, if thou remember that of Solomon, Prov. xv. 24, thou hast the sum of what I intend, " The way of life is above to the wise, to avoid the path of hell l)eneath ;" and withal remember Noah's example, " Noah was a just man, and perfect in his generation," Gen. vi. 9; and no wonder, for Noah " w^alked with God." So I may say to thee, even as God to Abraham, " Walk before God, and thou wilt be upright," Gen. xvii. 1.

Sect. VII. 5. Consider, The diligent keeping of your hearts on heaven, will pi-eserve the vigour of all your graces, and put life into all your duties.* It is the heavenly Christian that is the lively Christian. It is our strangeness to heaven that makes us so dull; it is the end that quickens to all the means : and the more frequently and clearly this end is beheld, the more vigorous will all our motion be. How doth it make men unweariedly labour, and fearlessly venture, when they do but think of the gainful prize ! How will the soldier hazard his life, and the mariner pass through storms and waves ; how cheerfully do they compass sea and land ! And no difficulty can keep them back, when they think of an uncertain, perishing treasure. Oh, what life then would it put into a Christian's endeavours, if he would frequently forethink of his everlasting treasure ! We run so slowly, and strive so lazily, because we so little mind the prize. Wlien a Christian hath been tasting the hidden manna, and drinking of the streams of the paradise of God, what life doth this ambrosia and nectar put into him ! How fervent will his spirit be in prayer, when he considers that he prays for no less than heaven ! If Enoch, Elias, or any of the saints who are now in heaven, and have been partakers of the vision of the living God, should be sent down to the earth again to live on the terms as we now do, would they not strive hard, and pray earnestly, rather than lose that blessed rest? No wonder, for they would know what it is they pray for. It is true, we cannot know it here so thoroughly as they, yet if we would but get as high as we can, and study but that which may now be known, it would strangely alter both our spirits and our duties. Observe but the man who is much in heaven, and you shall see he is not like other Christians. There is somewhat of that which he hath seen above, appeareth in all his duty and conversation ; nay, take but the same man immediately when he is returned from these views of bliss, and you shall easily perceive that he excels himself, as if he were not, indeed, the same as before. If he be a preacher, how heavenly are his sermons ; what clear descriptions, what high expressions, what savoury passages, hath he of that rest! If he be a private Chris-

* Non est vivcre, sed valerc vita ; ut proverb. 2 K

tian, what heavenly conference, what heavenly prayers, what a heavenly carriage hath he ! May you not even hear in a preacher's sermons, or in the private duties of another, when they have been most above ? When Moses had been with God in the mount, he had derived so much glory from God that made his face to shine, that the people could not behold him. Beloved friends, if you would but set upon this employment, even so would it be with you. Prlen would see the face of your conversation shine, and say. Surely he hath been with God. x\s the body is apt to be changed into the temper of the air it breathes in, and the food it lives on, so will your spirits receive an alteration according to the objects which they are exercised about. If your thoughts do feed on Christ and heaven, you will be heavenly; if they feed on earth, you will be earthly. It is true, a heavenly nature goes before this heavenly employment; but yet the work will make it more heavenly. There must be life before we can feed ; but our life is continued and increased by feeding : therefore, reader, let me here inform thee, that if thou lie complaining of deadness and dulness, that thou canst not love Christ, nor rejoice in his love ; that thou hast no life in prayer, nor any other duty ; and yet never triedst this quickening course, or at least art careless and unconstant in it; why, thou art the cause of thy own complaints ; thou deadest and dullest thy own heart; thou deniest thyself that life which thou talkest of. Is not thy " life hid with Christ in God ?" Col. iii. 3. Whither must thou go but to Christ for it.'' and whither is that but to heaven, where he is ? Thou wilt not come to Christ that thou mayst have life, John v, 40. If thou wouldst have light and heat, why art thou then no more in the sunshine ? If thou wouldst have more of that grace which flows from Christ, why art thou no more with Christ for it? Thy strength is in heaven, and thy life in heaven, and there thou must daily fetch it if thou wilt have it. For want of this recourse to heaven, thy soul is as a candle that is not lighted, and thy duties as a sacrifice which hath no fire. Fetch one coal daily from this altar, and see if thy oifering will not burn. Light thy candle at this flame, and feed it daily with oil from hence, and see if it will not gloriously shine. Keep close to this reviving fire, and see if thy affections will not be warm. Thou bewailest thy want of love to God, and well thou mayst, for it is a heinous crime, a killing sin; why, lift up thy eye of faith to heaven, behold his beaiUy, contemplate his excellences, and see whether his amiable-ness will not fire thy affections, and his perfect goodness ravish thy heart. As the eye doth incense the sensual affections by its overmuch gazing on alluring objects, so doth the eye of our faith in meditation inflame our affections towards our Lord, by the frequent gazing on that highest beauty. Whoever thou art, that art a stranger to this employment, be thy parts and profession never so great, let me tell thee, thou spendest thy life but in trifling or idleness ; thou seemest to live, but thou art dead, I may say of thee, as Seneca of idle Vacia, Sets latere, vivere iiescis, Thou knowest how to lurk in idleness, but how to live thou knowest not: and as

the same Seneca would say, when he passed by that sUiggard's dwelling, Ihi situs est ]'acia ; so it may be said of then, There lies such a one, but not there lives such a one ; for thou spcndest thy days liker to the dead than the living. One of Draco's laws to the Athenians was, that he who was convict of idleness should be put to death. Thou dost execute this on thy own soul, whilst by thy idleness thou destroycst its liveliness.

Thou mayst many other ways exercise thy parts, but this is the way to exercise thy graces. They all come from God as their fountain, and lead to God as their ultimate end ; and are exercised on God as their chiefest object, so that God is their all in all. From heaven they come, and heavenly their nature is, and to heaven they will direct and move thee. And as exercise maintain-eth appetite, strength, and liveliness, to the body, so doth it also to the soul. " Use limbs, and have limits," is the known proverb ; and use grace and spiritual life in these heavenly exercises, and you shall Rnd it quickly cause their increase. The exercise of your mere abilities of speech will not much advantage your graces, but the exercise of these heavenly, soul-exalting gifts will uncon-ceivably help to the growth of both. For as the moon is then most full and glorious when it doth most directly face the sun, so will your souls be both in gifts and graces, when you do most nearly view the face of God. This will feed your tongue with matter, and make you abound and overflow, both in preaching, praying, and conferring: besides, the fire which you fetch from heaven for your sacrifices, is no false or strange fire ; as your liveliness will be much more, so will it be also more sincere. A man may have a great deal of fervour in aifections and duties, and all prove but common and unsound when it is raised upon common grounds and motives : your zeal will partake of the nature of those things by which it is acted; the zeal therefore which is kindled by your meditations on heaven, is most like to prove a heavenly zeal; and the liveliness of the spirit, which you fetch from the face of God, must needs be the divinest, sincerest life. Some men's fervency is drawn only from their books, and some from the pricks of some stinging aflilic-tion, and some from the mouth of a moving minister, and some from the encouragement of an attentive auditory; but he that knows this way to heaven, and derives it daily from the pure fountain, shall have his soul revived with the water of life, and enjoy that quickening which is the saints' peculiar. By this faith thou mayst offer Abel's sacrifice, more excellent than that of common men, and by it obtain witness that thou art righteous, God testifying of thy gifts that they are sincere, Heb. xi, 4 : when others are ready, as Baal's priests, to beat themselves, and cut their flesh, because their sacrifice will not burn ; then if thou canst get but the spirit of Elias, and in the chariot of contemplation canst soar aloft, till thou approachest near to the quickening Spirit, thy soul and sacrifice will gloriously flame, though the flesh and the world should cast upon them the water of all their opposing enmity. Say not now, How shall we get so high, or how can mortals ascend to 2 K 2

heaven ? For faith hath wings, and meditation is its chariot; its office is to make absent things as present. Do you not see how a little piece of glass, if it do but rightly face the sun, will so contract its beams and heat as to set on fire that which is behind it, which without it would have received but little warmth ? Why, thy faith is as the burning-glass to thy sacrifice, and meditation sets it to face the sun; only take it not away too soon, but hold it there awhile, and thy soul will feel the happy effect. The slanderous Jews did raise a foolish tale of Christ, that he got into the holy of holies, and thence stole the true name of God ; and lest he should lose it, cut a hole in his thigh, and sewed it therein, and by virtue of this he raised the dead, gave sight to the blind, cast out devils, and performed all his miracles. Surely, if we can get into the holy of holies, and bring thence the name and image of God, and get it closed up in our hearts, this would enable us to work wonders; every duty we performed would be a wonder, and they that heard would be ready to say, Never man spake as this man speaketh. The Spirit would possess us, as those flaming tongues, and make us every one to speak, not in the variety of the confounded languages, but in the primitive, pure language of Canaan, the wonderful works of God. We should then be in every duty, whether prayer, exhortation, or brotherly reproof, as Paul was at Athens, his spirit {Trapw^vveTo) was stirred within him. Acts xvii. 16; and should be ready to say, as Jeremy did, " His word was in my heart, as a burning fire shut up in my bones ; and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay," Jer. xx. 9.

Christian reader, art thou not thinking when thou seest a lively believer, and hearest his soul-melting prayers, and soul-ravishing discourse. Oh, how happy a man is this ! Oh that my soul were in this blessed plight! Why, I here direct and advise thee from God; try this forementioned course, and set thy soul conscionably to this work, and thou shalt be in as good a case. Wash thee frequently in this Jordan, and thy leprous, dead soul will revive, and thou shalt know that there is a God in Israel, and that thou mayst live a vigorous and joyous life, if thou wilfully cast not by this duty, and so neglect thine own mercies. If thou be not a lazy, reserved hypocrite, but most truly value this strong and active frame of spirit_, show it then by thy present attempting this heavenly exercise. Say not now, but thou hast heard the way to obtain this life into thy soul, and into thy duties. If thou wilt yet neglect it, blame thyself. But, alas ! the multitude of professors come to a minister just as Naaman came to Elias ; they ask us. How shall I know I am a child of God ? How shall I overcome a hard heart, and get such strength and life of grace ? But they expect that some easy means should do it; and think we should cure them with the very answer to their question, and teach them a way to be quickly well: but when they hear of a daily trading in heaven, and the constant meditation on the joys above ; this is a greater task than they expected, and they turn their backs as Naaman to Elias, or the young man on Christ, and few of the most conscionable

will set upon the duty. Will not preaching, and praying, and conference, serve, say they, without this dwelling still in heaven { Just as country people come to physicians ; when they have opened their case, and made their moan, they look he should cure them in a day or two, or with the use of some cheap and easy simple; hut when they hear of a tedious method of physic, and of costly compositions, and hitter potions, they will hazard their lives with some sottish empiric, who tolls them an easier and cheaper way; yea, or venture on death itself hofore they will obey such diflicult counsel. Too many that we hope well of, I fear, w ill take this course here. If we could give them life, as God did, with a word, or could heal their souls, as charmers do their bodies, with easy stroking, and a few good words, then they would readily hoar and obey. I entreat thee, reader, beware of this folly : fall to the work ; the comfort of spiritual health will countervail all the trouble of the duty. It is but the flesh that repines and gainsays, which thou knowest was never a friend to thy soul. If God had set thee on some grievous work, shouldst thou not have it done for the life of thy soul ? How much more when he doth but invite thee heavenward to himself!

Sect. VIII. 6. Consider, The frequent believing views of glory are the most precious cordial in all afflictions. First, To sustain our spirits, and make our sufferings far more easy : Secondly, To stay us from repining, and make us bear with patience and joy : and, Thirdly, To strengthen our resolutions, that we forsake not Christ for fear of trouble. Our very beast will carry us more cheerfully in travel, when he is coming homeward, where he ex-pecteth rest. A man will more quietly endure the lancing of his sores, the cutting out the stone, when he thinks on the ease that will afterwards follow. What then will not a believer endure, when he thinks of the rest to which it tendeth ? What if the way be never so rough { can it be tedious if it lead to heaven ? O sweet sickness, sweet reproaches, imprisonments, or death, which is accompanied with these tastes of our future rest! This doth keep the suffering from the soul, so that it can work upon no more but our fleshly outside; even as alexipharmical medicines preserve the heart, that the contagion reach not the vital spirits. Surely our sufferings trouble not the mind, according to the degrees of bodily pain, but as the soul is more or less fortified with this preserving antidote. Believe it, reader, thou wilt have a doleful sickness, thou wilt suffer heavily, thou wilt die most sadly, if thou have not at hand the foretastes of rest. For my own part, if thou regard the experience of one that hath often tried, had it not been for that little Talas ! too littlej taste which I had of rest, my sufferings would have been grievous, and death more terrible. I may say, as David, " I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living," Psal. xxvii. 13. And, as the same David, " I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me : refuge failed me ; no man cared for my soul. I cried unto thee, O Lord: I said, Thou art

my refuge and my portion in the land of the living," Psal. cxlii. 4, 5. I may say of the promise of this rest, as David of God's law, " Unless this had been my delight, I had perished in mine affliction," Psal. cxix. 92, " One thing," saith he, " I have desired of the Lord, that will I seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple : for in time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion ; in the secret of his tabernacle he shall hide me ; he shall set me upon a rook. And then shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me ; therefore shall I offer in that his tabernacle sacrifices of joy, and sing, yea, sing praises unto the Lord," Psal. xxvii. 4—6. Therefore as thou wilt then be ready, with David, to pray, " Be not far from me, for trouble is near," Psal. xxii. 11 ; so let it be thy own chiefest care not to be far from God and heaven, when trouble is near, and thou wilt then find him to be unto thee a very present help in trouble, Psal. xlvi. 1. Then, though the fig-tree should not blossom, neither should fruit be in the vines, the labour of the olive should fail, and the fields shoukl yield no meat, the flock should be cut off from the fold, and there were no herd in the stalls; yet thou mightest rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of thy salvation, Hab. iii. 17, 18. All sufferings are nothing to us, so far as we have the foresight of this salvation. No bolts, nor bars, nor distance of place, can shut out these supporting joys, because they cannot confine our faith and thoughts, although they may confine our flesh. Christ and faith are both spiritual, and therefore prisons and banishments cannot hinder their intercourse. Even when persecution and fear hath shut the doors, Christ can come in, and stand in the midst, and say to his disciples, " Peace be unto you." And Paul and Silas can be in heaven, even when they are locked up in the inner prison, and their bodies scourged, and their feet in the stocks. No wonder if there be more mirth in their stocks than on Herod's throne, for there was more of Christ and heaven. The martyrs find more rest in the flames than their persecutors can in their pomp and tyranny, because they foresee the flames they escape, and the rest which that fiery chariot is conveying them to. It is not the place that gives the rest, but the presence and beholding of Christ in it. If the Son of God will walk with us in it, we niay walk safely in the midst of those flames which shall devour those that cast us in, Dan. iii. Why, then. Christian, keep thy soul above with Christ; be as little as may be out of his company, and then all conditions will be alike to thee. For that is the best estate to thee, in which thou possessest most of him. The moral arguments of a heathen philosopher may make the burden somewhat lighter, but nothing can make us soundly joy in tribulation, except we can fetch our joy from heaven. How came Abraham to leave his country, and follow God he knew not whither .'' Why, because " he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and mak-er is God," Ileb. xi. 8—10. What made Moses choose affliction with the people of God, rather than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a

season, and to esteem the reproach of Christ greater richf^s than the treasures of F^gypt.' Why, because h»! had respect to the re-conipence of reward, Heb. xi. 21 —20. What made him to forsake Egypt, and not to fear the wrath of the king ? ^^'hy, he endured, as seeing him who is invisible, ver. 27. How did they quench the violence of fire ; and out of weakness were made strong { wliy would they not accept deliverance when they were tortured .'' Why, they had their eye on a better resurrection w^hich they might obtain. Yea, it is most evident that our Lord himself did fetch his encouragement to sufr(>rings from the foresight of his glory ; for, to this end, he both died, and rose, and revived, that he might be Lord both of the dead and living, Rom. xiv. 9. " Even Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God," Heb. xii. 2. Who can wonder that pain and sorrow, poverty and sickness, should be exceeding grievous to that man who cannot reach to see the end ? or that death should be the king of terrors to him who caimot see the life beyond it { He that looks not on the end of his suH'erings, as w'ell as on the suffering itself, he needs must lose the whole consolation : and if he see not the quiet fruit of righteousness which it afterward yieldeth, it cannot to him be joyous, but grievous, Heb. xii. 11. This is the noble advantage of faith; it can look on the means and end together. This, also, is the reason why we oft pity ourselves more than God doth pity us, though we love not ourselves so much as he doth ; and why we would have the cup to pass from us, when he will make us drink it up. ^^ e pity ourselves with an ignorant pity, and would be saved from the cross, which is the way to save us. God sees our glory as soon as our suffering, and sees our suffering as it conduceth to our glory. He sees our cross and our crown at once, and therefore pitieth us the less, and will not let us have our wills. Sirs, believe it, this is the great reason of our mistakes, impatience, and censuring of God, of our sadness of spirit at sickness and at death, because we gaze on the evil itself, but fix not our thoughts on what is beyond it. ^^'e look only on the blood, and ruin, and danger ; but God sees these, with all the benefits to souls, bodies, church, state, and posterity, all with one single view. V>,'e see the ark taken by the Philistines, but see not their god falling before it, and themselves returning it home with gifts. They that saw Christ only on the cross, or in the grave, do shake their heads, and think him lost : but God saw him dying, buried, rising, glorified, and all this with one view. Surely, faith w'ill imitate God in this, so far as it hath the glass of a promise to help it. He that sees Joseph only in the pit, or in the prison, will more lament his case, than he that sees his dignity beyond it. Could old Jacolj have seen so far, it might have saved him a great deal of sorrow. He that sees no more than the burying of the corn under ground, or the threshing, the winnowing, and grinding of it, will take both it and the labour for lost; but he that foresees its springing and increase, and its making into l)read for the life of man, will think otherwise. This

is our mistake : we see God burying us under ground, but we foresee not the spring when we shall all revive : we feel him threshing and winnowing and grinding us, but we see not when we shall be served to our Master's table. If we should but clearly see heaven as the end of all God's dealings with us, surely none of his dealings could be so grievous. Think of this, I entreat thee, reader. If thou canst but learn this way to heaven, and get thy soul acquainted there, thou needest not be unfurnished of the choicest cordials to revive thy spirits in every affliction ; thou knowest where to have them whenever thou wantest. Thou mayst have arguments at hand, to answer all that the devil or flesh can say to thy discomfort. Oh ! if God would once raise us to this life, we should find that though heaven and sin are at a great distance, yet heaven and a prison, or remotest banishment; heaven and the belly of a whale in the sea; heaven and a den of lions, a consuming sickness, or invading death ; are at no such distance. But as Abraham so far off saw Christ's day, and rejoiced, so we, in our most forlorn estate, might see that day when Christ 'shall give us rest, and therein rejoice. I beseech thee. Christian, for the honour of the gospel, and for the comfort of thy soul, that thou be not to learn this heavenly art, when in the greatest extremity thou hast most need to use it. I know thou expectest suffering days; at least, thou lookest to be sick and die. Thou wilt then have exceeding need of consolation. Why, whence dost thou think to draw thy comforts ? If thou broach every other vessel, none will come. It is only heaven that can afford thee store. The place is far off: the well is deep ; and if, then, thou have not wherewith to draw, nor hast got thy soul acquainted with the place, thou wilt find thyself at a fearful loss. It is not an easy nor a common thing, even with the best sort of men, to die with joy. As ever thou wouldst shut up thy days in peace, and close thy dying eyes with comfort, die daily. Live now above, be much with Christ, and thy^own soul and the saints about thee shall bless the day that ever thou tookest this counsel. When God shall call thee to a sick bed, and a grave, thou wilt perceive him saying to thee, " Come, my people, enter into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee : hide thyself as it were for a little moment, until the indignation be overpast," Isa. xxvi. 20. It is he that, with Stephen, doth see heaven opened, and Christ sitting at the right hand of God, who will comfortably bear the storm of stones. Acts vii. 56. Thou knowest not yet what trials thou mayst be called to. The clouds begin to rise again, and the times to threaten us with fearful darkness : few ages so prosperous to the church, but that still we must be saved so as by fire, 1 Cor. iii. 15, and go to heaven by the old road. Men that would fall if the storm should shake them, do frequently meet with that which tries them. Why, what wilt thou do if this should be thy case ? Art thou fitted to suffer imprisonment, or banishment; to bear the loss of goods and life ? How is it possible thou shouldst do this, and do it cordially and cheerfully, except thou hast a taste of some greater good, which thou lookest to gain by losing these ? Will

the merchant throw his goods overboard till he sees he must otherwise lose his life { And wilt thou cast away all thou hast belbre thou hast f(>lt the sweetness of that rest, which else thou must lose by saving these ? Nay, and it is not a speculative knowledge, which thou hast got only by reading or hearing of heaven, wliich will make thee part with all to get it. As a man that only hears of the sweetness of pleasant food, or reads of the melodious sounds of music, this doth not much excite his desires ; but when he hath tried the one by his taste, and the other by his ear, then he will more lay out to get them : so if thou shouldst know only by the hearing of the ear what is thi> glory of the inheritance of the saints, this would not bring thee through sufferings and death ; but if thou take this trying, tasting course, by daily exercising thy soul above, then nothing will stantl in thy way, but thou wouldst on till thou art there, though through fire and water, ^^'hat state more terrible than that of an apostate, when God hath told us, if any man draw back, his soul shall have no pleasure in him ? Heb. x. 3>^. Because they take not their pleasure in God, and fill not themselves with the delights of his ways, and of his heavenly paths, which drop fatness, Psal. Ixv. 11 ; therefore do they prove l)ack-sliders in heart, and are filled with the bitterness of their own ways, Prov. xiv. 14.

Nay, if they should not be brought to trial, and so not actually deny Christ, yet they are still interpretatively such, because they are such in disposition, and would be such in action, if they were put to it. I assure thee, reader, fot my part, I cannot see how thou wilt be able to hold out to the end, if thou keep not thine eye upon the recomponce of reward, and use not frequently to taste this cordially ; for the less thy diligence is in this, the more doubtful must thy perseverance needs be : for the joy of the Lord is thy strength, and that joy must be fetched from the place of thy joy ; and if thou walk without thy strength, how long dost thou think thou art like to endure ?

Sect. IX. 7. Consider, It is he that hath his conversation in heaven, who is the profitable Christian to all about him : with him you may take sweet counsel, and go up to the celestial house of God. When a man is in a strange country, far from home, how glad is he of the company of one of his own nation! How delightful is it to them to talk of their country, of their acquaintance, and the affairs of their home ! Why, with a heavenly Christian thou mayst have such discourse; for he hath been there in the Spirit, and can tell thee of the glory and rest above. What pleasant discourse was it to Joseph to talk with his brethren in a strange land, and to inquire of his father and his brother Benjamin ! Is it not so to a Christian to talk with his brethren that have been above, and inquire after his Father, and Christ his Lord .'' ^^ hen a worldling will talk of nothing but the world, and a politician of nothing but the affairs of the state, and a mere scholar of human learning, and a conniion professor of duties, and of Christians ; the heavenly man will be speaking of heaven, and the strange glory which his faith

hath seen, and our speedy and blessed meeting there. I confess, to discourse with able men, of clear understandings and piercing wits, about the controverted difficulties of religion, yea, about some criticisms in languages and sciences, is both pleasant and profitable ; but nothing to this heavenly discourse of a believer. Oh, how refreshing and savoury are his expressions ! How his words do pierce and melt the heart 1 How they transform the hearers into other men, that they think they are in heaven all the while ! How doth his doctrine drop as the rain, and his speech distil as the gentle dew, as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers upon the grass; while his tongue is expressing the name of the Lord, and ascribing greatness to his God ! Deut. xxxii. 1—3. Is not his feeling, sweet discourse of heaven, even like that box of precious ointment, which being opened to pour on the head of Christ, doth fill the house with the pleasure of its perfume ? All that are near may be refreshed by it. His words are like the precious ointment on Aaron's head, that ran down upon his beard, and the skirts of his garments, even like the dew of Hermon; and as the dew that descendeth from the celestial Mount Zion, where the Lord hath commanded the blessing, even life for evermore, Psal. cxxxiii. 3. This is the man who is as Job ; " When the candle of God did shine upon his head, and when by his light he walked through darkness ; when the secret of God was upon his tabernacle, and when the Almighty was yet with him; then the ear that heard him, did bless him ; and the eye that saw him, gave witness to him," Job xxix. 3— 5, 11. Happy the people that have a heavenly minister; happy the children and servants that have a heavenly father or master ; happy the man that hath heavenly associates, if they have but hearts to know their happiness ! This is the companion who will watch over thy ways ; who will strengthen thee when thou art weak; who will cheer thee when thou art drooping, and comfort thee with the same comforts wherewith he hath been so often comforted himself, 2 Cor. i. 4. This is he that will be blowing at the spark of thy spiritual life, and always drawing thy soul to God, and will be saying to thee, as the Samaritan woman, Come and see one that hath told me all that ever I did; one that hath ravished my heart with his beauty ; one that hath loved our souls to the death. Is not this the Christ ? Is not the knowledge of God and him eternal life ? Is not it the glory of the saints to see his glory ? If thou come to this man's house, and sit at his table, he will feast thy soul with the dainties of heaven : thou shalt meet with a better than Plato's philosophical feast, even a taste of that feast of fat things ; " of wines on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined," Isa. xxv. 6 ; that thy soul may be satisfied as with marrow and fatness, and thou mayst praise the Lord with joyful lips, Psal. Ixiii. 5. If thou travel with this man on the way, he will be directing and quickening thee in thy journey to heaven : if thou be ])uying or selling, or trading with him in the world, he will be counselling thee to lay out for the inestimable treasure. If thou wrong him, he can pardon thee, re-

membering- that Christ hath not only pardoned great olTenco-s to him, but will also give him this invaluable portion. It' thou be angry, he is meek, considering the meekness of his heavenly pattern ; or if he fall out with thee, he is soon reconciled, when he re-membereth that in heaven you must be everla.sting friends. Thi.s is the C'hristian of the right stamp ; this is the servant that is like his Lord ; these be the innocent that save the island, and all about them are the better where they dwell. O sirs, I fear the men I have described are very rare, even among the religious ; but were it not for our own shameful'negligence, such men we might all be. A\ hat families, what towns, what commonwealths, what churches, should we have, if they were but composed of such men ! but that is more tlesirable tluin hopeful, till we come to that land which hath no other inhabitants, save what are incomparably beyond this. Alas ! how empty arc the speeches, and how unprofitable the society, of all other sorts of Christians in comparison of these ! A man niight perceive by his divine song, and high expression, Deut. xxxii. and xxxiii, that Moses had been oft with God, and that God had showed him part of his glory. Who could have composed such spiritual psalms, and poured out praises, as David did, but a man after God's own heart; and a man that was near the heart of God, and no doubt had God also near his heart ? Who could have preached such spiritual doctrine, and dived into the precious mysteries of salvation, as Paul did, but one who had been called with a light from heaven, and had been rapt up into the third heavens, in the Spirit, and there had seen the unutterable things .'' If a man should come down from heaven amongst us, who had lived in the possession of that blessed state, how would men be desirous to see or hear him ! and all the country, far and near, would leave their business and crowd about him : happy would he think himself that could get a sight of him ; how would men long to hear what reports he would make of the other world; and w hat he had seen ; and what the blessed there enjoy ! Would they not think this man the best companion, and his discourse to be of all most profitable ? Why, sirs, every true believing saint shall be there in person, and is frequently there in spirit, and hath seen it also in the glass of the gospel. Why then do you value their company no more ; and why do you inquire no more of them ; and why do you relish their discourse no better ? Well, for my part, I had rather have the fellowship of a heavenly-ininded Christian, than of the most learned disputers or princely commanders.

Sect. X. 8. Consider, There is no man so highly honoureth God, as he who hath his conversation in heaven ; and without this we deeply dishonour him. Is it not a disgrace to the father, when the children do feed on husks, and are clothed in rags, and accompany with none but rogues and beggars ! Is it not so to our Father, when we who call ourselves his children, shall feed on earth, and the garb of our souls be but like that of the naked world .'' and when our hearts shall make this clay and dust their more familiar and frequent company, who should always stand iu our Father's pre-

sence, and be taken up in his own attendance? Sure it beseems not the spouse of Christ, to live among his scullions and slaves, when they may have daily admittance into his presence-chamber; he holds forth the sceptre, if they will but enter. Sure we live below the rates of the gospel, and not as becometh the children of a King, even of the great King of all the world. We live not according to the height of our hopes, nor according to the plenty that is in the promises, nor according to the provision of our Father's house, and the great preparations made for his saints. It is well we have a Father of tender bowels, who will own his children, even in dirt and rags: it is well the foundation of God stands sure, and that the Lord knoweth who are his : or else he would hardly take us for his own, so far do we live below the honour of saints : if he did not first challenge his interest in us, neither ourselves nor others could know us to be his people. But, oh ! when a Christian can live above, and rejoice his soul in the things that are unseen, hoM^ doth God take himself to be honoured by such a one ! The Lord may say. Why, this man believes me ; I see he can trust me, and take my word: he rejoiceth in my promises, before he hath possession : he can be glad and thankful for that which his bodily eyes did never see : this man's rejoicing is not in the flesh : I see he loves me, because he minds me : his heart is with me, he loves my presence ; and he shall surely enjoy it in my kingdom for ever. " Because thou hast seen," saith Christ to Thomas, " thou hast believed ; but blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed," John xx, 29, How did God take himself honoured by Caleb and Joshua, when they went into the promised land, and brought back to their brethren a taste of the fruits, and gave it commendation, and encouraged the people ! And what a promise and recompence do they receive ! Numb, xiv, 24, 30, For those that honour him, he will honour, 1 Sam, ii, 30.

Sect. XL 9, Consider, If thou make not conscience of this duty of diligent keeping thy heart in heaven, First, Thou disobeyest the flat commands of God: Secondly, Thou losest the sweetest parts of Scripture : Thirdly, And dost frustrate the most gracious discoveries of God.

God hath not left it as a thing indifferent, and at thy own choice, whether thou wilt do it or not. He hath made it thy duty, as well as the means of thy comfort, that so a double bond might tie thee not to forsake thy own mercies. " If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above ; set your affections on things above, not on things on earth," Col. iii. 1, 2. The same God that hath commanded thee to believe, and to be a Christian, liatR commanded thee to set thy affections above. The same God that hath forbidden thee to murder, to steal, to commit adultery, incest, or idolatry, hath forljidden thee the neglect of this great duty; and darest thou wilfully disobey him ? Why makest thou not conscience of the one as well as of the other ? Secondly, Besides, thou losest the most comfortable passages of the word. All those most glorious descriptions of heaven, all those discoveries of our future

l)losseclnos.s, all God's revelations of his purposes towards us, and his frequent and precious promises of our rest ; what are they all hut lost to thee.' Are not these the stars in the firmament of the Scripture, and the most golden lines in that hook of God { Of all the IJihle, methinks thou shouldst not part with one of those promises or predictions; no, not for a world. As heaven is the perfection of all our mercies, so the promises of it in the gospel, are the very soul of the gospel. That word, which was sweeter to David than the honey and the honeycomh, and to Jeremy, the joy and rejoicing of his heart, Jer. xv. IG, the most pleasant part of this thou loscst. Thirdly, Yea, thou dost frustrate the preparations of Christ for thy joy, and niakest him to speak in vain. Is a com-fortahle word from the mouth of God of so great worth, that all the comforts of the world are nothing to it; and dost thou neglect and overlook so many of them ? Reader, I entreat thee to ponder it, why God should reveal so much of his counsel, and tell us beforehand of the joys we shall possess, but only that he would have us know it for our joy ? If it had not been to make comfortable our present life, and fill us with the delights of our foreknown blessedness, he might have kept his purpose to himself, and never have let us know till we come to enjoy it, nor have revealed it to us till death had discovered it, what he meant to do with us in the world to come; yea, when we had got possession of our rest, he might still have concealrd its eternity from us, and then the fears of losing it again would have bereaved us of much of the sweetness of our joys. But it hath pleased our Father to open his counsel, and to let us know the very intent of his heart, and to acquaint us with the eternal extent of Jiis love ; and all this that our joy may be full, and we might live as the heirs of such a kingdom. And shall we now overlook all, as if he had revealed no such matter ? Shall we live in earthly cares and sorrows, as if we knew of no such thing ? and rejoice no more in these discoveries, than if the Lord had never written it ? If thy prince had sealed thee but a patent of some lordship, how oft wouldst thou be casting thine eye upon it, and make it thy daily delight to study it, till thou shouldst come to possess the dignity itself! And hath God sealed thee a patent of heaven, and dost thou let it lie by thee, as if thou hadst forgot it ? Oh that our hearts were as high as our hopes, and our hopes as high as these infallible promises !

Sect. XII. 10. Consider, It is but equal that our hearts should be on God, when the heart of God is so much on us. If the Lord of glory can stoop so low, as to set his heart on sinful dust, sure one would think we should easily be persuaded to set our hearts on Christ and glory, and to ascend to him in our daily affections, who vouchsafeth to condescend to us ! Oh, if God's delight were no more in us, than ours is in him, what should we do ^ what a case were we in ! Christian, dost thou not perceive that the heart of God i.s set upon thee, and that he is still minding thee with tender love, even when thou forgettest both thyself and him ? Dost thou not find him following thee with daily mercies, moving upon thy soul,

providing for ihy body, preserving both? Doth lie not bear thee continually in the arms of lovo ; and promise that all shall work together for thy good ; and suit all his dealings to thy greatest advantage, and give his angels charge over thee ? and canst thou find in thy heart to cast him by, and be taken up with the joys below, and forget thy Lord, who forgets not thee ? Fie upon this unkind ingratitude ! Is not this the sin that Isaiah so solemnly doth call both heaven and earth to witness against ? " The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib, but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider," Isa. i. 2, 3. If the ox or ass do straggle in the day, they likely comets to their home at night; but we will not so much as once a day, by our serious thoughts, ascend to God. When he speaks of his own respects to us, hear what he saith : when Zion saith, " The Lord hath forsaken, my Lord hath forgotten me. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb ? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands, thy walls are continually before me," Isa. xlix. 14. But, when he speaks of our thoughts to him, the case is otherwise. " Can a maid forget her ornaments, or a bride her attire ? yet my people have forgotten me days without number," Jer. ii. 32. As if he should say. You will not forget the clothes on your backs, you will not forget your braveries and vanities ! you will not rise one morning, but you will remember to cover your nakedness. And are these of more worth than your God; or of more concernment than your eternal life ? and yet you can forget these day after day. O brethren, give not God cause to expostulate with us, as, " Ye are they that have forsaken the Lord, and that forget my holy mountain," Isa. Ixv. 11. But rather admire his minding of thee, and let it draw thy mind again to him, and say, " What is man, that thou shouldst magnify him ; and that thou shouldst set thy heart upon him ; and that thou shouldst visit him every morning, and try him every moment ?" Job vii. 17, 18. So let thy soul get up to God, and visit him every morning, and thy heart be towards him every moment.

Sect. XIII. II. Consider, Should not our interest in heaven, and our relation to it, continually keep our hearts upon it; besides that excellency which is spoken of before. Why, there our Father keeps his court. Do we not call him '•' Our Father which art in heaven?" Ah! ungracious, unworthy children, that can be so taken up in their play below as to be mindless of such a Father! Also, there is Christ our Head, our Husband, our Life; and shall we not look towards him, and send to him, as oft as we can, till we come to see him face to face ? If he were, by transubstantiation, in the sacraments, or other ordinances, and that as gloriously as he is in heaven, then there were some reason for our lower thoughts; but when the heavens must receive him till the restitution of all things, let them also receive our hearts with him. There, also, is our mother. For Jerusalem, which is above, is the mother of us all, Gal. iv. 26. And there are multitudes of our elder brethren.

L'liAr. 111. THE SAINTS' F.VKRLASTING REST. .011

There are our rriends and our ancient acquaintance, whose society in the flesh we so much deliglited in, and whose departure Iience we .so much lamented. And is tiiis no attractive to thy thoughts? If they were within thy reach on earth, thou wouldst go and visit them ; and wliy wilt thou not oftener visit them in spirit, and rejoice hetbrehand to think of thy meeting them there again ? Saith old BuUinger, Socfatcs (jtiiidct nibi inorioidiini eaue, proptered quod Homerum, Hesiodum, et alios pr^sfantissimos riros se visurum cre-d/?ret; quanto magis ego gaiideo, qui cert us sum me visurum esse Christum, Serratorem meum, a'ternum Dei Filium, in. nssumpta cnrne; et prcBterea tot sanctissimos et c.vimios pdlriarchas, &c. Socrates rejoiced that he should die, because he believed he should see Homer, Hesiod, and other excellent men ; how much more do I rejoice, who am sure to see Christ, my Saviour, the eternal Son of Ciod, in his assumed flesh ; and, besides, so many holy and excellent men ! \\ hen Luther desired to die a martyr, and could not obtain it, he comforted himself with these thoughts, and thus did write to them in prison : Vestra rincula mea sum, vestri carceres et ignes mei sunt, dum confiteor et prcedico, robisque simul compatior et coiigratulor; Yet this is my comfort, your bonds are mine, your prisons and fires are mine, while I confess and preach the doctrine for which you suffer, and while I suffer and congratulate with you in your suft'orings. Even so should a believer look to heaven, and contemplate the blessed slate of the saints, and think with himself, Though I am not yet so happy as to be with you, yet this is my daily comfort, you are my brethren and fellow members in Christ, and therefore your joys are my joys, and your glory, by this near relation, is my glory ; especially while I believe in the same Christ, and hold fast the same faith and obedience by which you were thus dignified; and also, while I rejoice in spirit with you, and in my daily meditations congratulate your happiness. Moreover, our house and home is above, " for we know if this earthly house of our tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." ^^hy do we, then, look no oftener towards it, and groan not, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven ? 2 Cor. v. 1,2. Sure, if our home were far meaner, we should yet remember it, because it is our home. You use to say, " Home is home, be it never so poor;" and should such a home then be no more remembered ? If you were but banished into a strange land, how frequent thoughts would you have of home ; how oft would you think of your old companions ! which way ever you went, or what company soever you came in, j'ou would still have your hearts and desires there. You would even dream in the night that you were at home; that you saw your father, or mother, or friends; that you were talking with wife, or children, or neighbours. And why is it not thus with us in respect of heaven I Is not that more truly and properly our home where we must take up our everlasting abode, than this, which we are looking every hour when we are separated from, and shall see it no more .^ We are strangers, and that is our country,

Heb. xi. 14, 1.5. We are heirs, and that is our inheritance ; even an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for us, 1 Pet. i. 4. We are here in continual distress and want, and there lies our substance ; even that better and more enduring substance, Heb. x. 34. We are here fain to be beholden to others, and there lies our own perpetual treasure. Matt, vi. 21. Yea, the very hope of our souls is there; all our hope of relief from our distresses ; all our hope of happiness, when we are here miserable; all this hope is laid up for us in heaven, whereof we hear in the true word of the gospel. Col. i. 5. Why, beloved Christians, have we so much interest, and so seldom thoughts ? have we so near relation, and so little affection ? are we not ashamed of this? Doth it become us to be delighted in the company of strangers, so as to forget our Father and our Lord; or to be so well pleased with those that hate and grieve us, as to forget our best and dearest friends ; or to be so besotted with borrowed trifles, as to forget our own profession and treasure ; or to be so taken up with a strange place, as not once a day to look toward home ; or to fall in love with tears and wants, as to forget our eternal joy and rest ? Christians, I pray you think whether this become us, or whether this be the part of a wise or thankful man ? Why, here thou art like to other men, as the heir under age, who differs not from a servant; but there it is that thou shalt be promoted, and fully estated in all that was promised. Surely God useth to plead his propriety in us, and from thence to conclude to do us good, even because we are his own people, whom he hath chosen out of all the world; and why then do we not plead our interest in him, and thence fetch arguments to raise up our hearts, even because he is our own God^ and because the place is our own possession ? Men use in other things to overlove and overvalue their own, and too much to mind their own things. Oh that we could mind our own inheritance, and value it but half as it doth deserve !

Sect. XIV. 12. Lastly, consider. There is nothing else that is worth the setting our hearts on. If God have them not, who or what shall have them ? If thou mind not thy rest, what wilt thou mind ? As the disciples said of Christ, " Hath any man given him meat to eat, that we know not of?" John iv. 32, 33; so say I to thee, Hast thou found out some other god or heaven, that we know not of; or something that will serve thee instead of rest? Hast thou found on earth an eternal happiness ? where is it, and what is it made of? or who was the man that found it out, or who was he that last enjoyed it ? where dwelt he, and what was his name ? Or art thou the first that hast found this treasure, and that ever discovered heaven on earth ? Ah, wretch ! trust not to thy discoveries, boast not of thy gain till experience bid thee boast; or rather take up with the experience of thy forefathers, who are now in the dust, and deprived of all, though sometime they were as lusty and jovial as thou. I would not advise thee to make experiments at so dear rates, as all those do that seek after happiness below, lest, when the substance is lost, thou find too late that thou

didst catch but a shadcnv ; lest thou he like those men that will needs search out the philosopher's stone, thous^h none could effect it that went before them ; and so buy their experience with the loss of their own estates and time, whii-h they might have had at a cheaper rate, if they would have taken up with the experience of their predecessors. So I would wish thee not to disquiet thyself in looking for that which is not on earth ; lest thou learn thy experience with the loss of thy soul, which thou mightest have learned at easier terms, even by the warnings of (iod in his word, and loss of thousands of souls before thee. It would pity a man to see that men will not believe (jod in this, till they have lost their labour, and heaven, and all. Nay, that many Christians, who have taken heaven for their resting-place, do lose so many thoughts needlessly on earth, and care not how much they oppress their spirits, which should be kept nimble and free for higher things. As Luther said to Melancthon, when he overpressod himself with the labours of his ministry, so may I much more say to thee, who oppressest thyself with the care of the world : Vellem te od/iac decies plus ohnii. Adeo me tiihil tut miseret, qui toties monUua, ne onerares teipsum tot ouerihus, et niliil audis, omnia heue monita contemnin. Erit cum sero stultum tuum hunc ^ehnn frustra damnabis, quo jam (trdes solun omnia portare, quasi ferruin aut sa.runi sis : It were no matter if thou wert oppressed ten times more ; so little do I pity thee, who, being so often warned that thou shouldst not load thyself with so many burdens, dost no whit regard it, but con-teumest all these wholesome warnings. Thou wilt shortly, when it is too late, condemn this thy foolish forwardness, which makes thee so desirous to bear all this, as if thou wert made of iron or stone. Alas! that a Christian should rather delight to have his heart among these thorns and briers, than in the bosom of his crucified, glorified Lord ! Surely, if Satan should take thee up to the mountain of temptation, and show thee the kingdoms and glory of the world, he could show thee nothing that is worthy thy thoughts, much less to be preferred before thy rest. Indeed, so far as duty and necessity require it, we must be content to mind the things below ; but who is he that contains himself within the compass of those limits .' And yet if we bound our cares and thoughts as diligently as ever we can, we shall find the least to be bitter and burdensome ; even as the least wasp hath a sting, and the smallest serpent hath his poison. As old Ililtenius said of Rome : Est pro-prium Rotnante potcstatis ut sit fcrruin, et licet digiti minorentur ad parritutem acus, tamen vianent ferrei: It is proper to the i^o-man power to be of iron, and though the fingers of it be diminished to the smallness of a needle, yet they are iron still. The like may I say of our earthly cares ; it is their property to be hard and troublous, and so they will be when they are at the least. Verily, if we had no higher hopes than what arc on earth, I should take man for a most silly creature, and his vvork and wages, all his travail and his felicity, to be no better than dreams and vanity, and scarce worth the minding or mentioning ; especially to thee, a

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Christian, should it seem so, whose eyes are opened by the word and Spirit, to see the emptiness of all these things, and the precious worth of the things above. O, then, be not detained by these silly things, but if Satan present them to thee in a temptation, send them away from whence they came, as Pellicanus did send back the silver bowl which the bishop had sent him for a token, with this answer: Antricii sunt quoiquot Tkjuri cives et inquilini, his suigiilis annis, solemni juramento, ne quis eorum t(llnm munns ah ifllo principe nccipiat: All that are citizens and inhabitants of Zurich, are solemnly sworn twice a year not to receive any gift from any prince abroad. Say thou, We the citizens and inhabitants of heaven, are bound by solemn and frequent covenants, not to have our hearts enticed or entangled with any foreign honours or delights, but only with those of their own country. If thy thoughts should, like the laborious bee, go over the world from flower to flower, from creature to creature, they would bring thee no honey or sweetness home, save what they gathered from their relations to eternity.

Ohject. But you will say, perhaps, Divinity is of larger extent than only to treat of the life to come, or the way thereto ; there are many controversies of great difficulty, which therefore require much of our thoughts, and so they must not be all of heaven.

Ausw. For the smaller controversies which have vexed our times, and caused the doleful divisions among us, I express my mind as that of Graserus : Ciiyii in visitatione cegrotorum, et ad cmigra-tionem ex hac vita ad heatani prcBparatione deprehendisset, contro-versias illas theologicas, qncz scientiam qnideni injlantem pariunty conscientias vero Jinctuantes non sedant, quoaqne hodie magna ani-morum contentione agitantiir, et magnos iumultus in rehus puhlicis excitant, nullum prorsis usum hahere, quinimo conscientias sim-plicioruni non aliter a,c olim in papain humana Jigmenta intricare; cwpit ah eis toto animo ahhorrere, et in puhlicis concionihus tantum ea proponere, quae adjidem salvijicam in Christum accedendam, et ad pietatem verani juxta verhuni Dei exercendam, veramque con-solationem in vita et morte proistandam faciehant: When he had found in his visiting the sick, and in his own preparations for well dying, that the controversies in divinity, which beget a swelling knowledge, but do not quiet troubled consciences, and which are at this day agitated with such contention of spirits, and raise such tumults in commonwealths, are indeed utterly useless; yea, and moreover do entangle the consciences of the simple, just as the human inventions in popery formerly did ; he begun with full bent of mind to shun or abhor them, and in his public preaching to propound only those things which tended to the kindling a true faith in Jesus Christ, and to the exercise of true godliness, according to the word of God, and to the procuring of true consolation both in life and death. I can scarce express my own mind more plainly than in this historian's expressions of the mind of Graserus. While I had some competent measure of health, and looked at death as at a greater distance, there was no man more delighted in the study

of controversy ; but when I saw tlying men have no mind on it, and how unsavoury and uncomfortable such conference was to them, and when 1 had oft been near to death myself, and found no delight in them further than they confirmed or illustrated the doctrine of eternal glory, I have minded them ever since the less, though every truth of God is precious, and it is the sin and shame of professors that they are no more able to defend the truth ; yet should all our study of controversy be still in relation to this perpetual rest, and consequently be kept within its bounds, and with most Christians, not have the twentieth part of our time or thoughts. Who that hath tried both studies, doth not cry out, as Summerhard was wont to do of the popish school divinity, Qiiis me miserum tandem liberohit ah ista rixom iheoUxjia ? Who will once deliver me, wretch, from this wrangling kind of dignity ? And as it is said of Bucholcer : Cum e.n'i/n/s a Deo dolibas asset decoratiis, ill certamen tameit cuin rabiosis illius scculi theolo(jis descendere iiohtit. Desii (inquit) disputare, civpi si/ppatare : qiioniam illud dissipatiouem, hoc collectionem signijicat. Vidit enim ah iis con-troversias moveri, quas nulla uvquam. amoris Dei scintilla calefece-rat: ridit ex diuturnis ilieologorum rixis, idilitatis nihil, detri-mcnti plurimum in ecclesias redundasse: i. e. Though he was adorned by God with excellent gifts, yet would he never enter into contention with the furious divines of that age. I have ceased, saith he, my disputations, and now begin my supputatioii; for that signifieth dissipation, but this collection. For he saw, that those men were the movers of controversies who had never been warmed with one spark of the love of God ; he saw, that from the continual brawls of divines, no benefit, but much hurt, did accrue to the churches. And it is worth the observing, which the historian adds: Quapropter omnis ejus cura in hoc erat, at auditores jidei suce com-missos, doceret bene vivere et beate mori; et annotatiim in univer-sariis amici ejus repererunt,permultos in extreme agone constitutos gratias ipsi hoc nomine egisse, quod ipsius ductu servatorem suu7n Jesum agnovissent, cujus in cognitione pxdchrum vivere, mori vera longe pulclicrrimum ducerent. At que hand scio annon hoc ipsum longe Bncholcero coram Deo sit gloriosius futurum, q)iam si aliquot contentiosorum libellorum jngriadasposteritatis memorice consecras-sat: i. e. Therefore this w^as all his care, that he might teach his hearers committed to his charge, to live well, and die happily ; and his friends found noted down in his papers a great many of persons, who in their last agony did give him thanks for this very reason, tiiat by his direction they had come to the knowledge of Jesus Ihoir Saviour; in the knowledge of whom, they esteem it sweet to live, but to die far more sweet. And I cannot tell whether this very thing will not prove more glorious to Bucholcer before God, than if he had consecrated to the memory of posterity many myriads of contentious writings. And as the study of controversies is not the most pleasant nor the most profitable, so much less the public handling of them ; for do it with the greatest meekness and ingenuity, yet shall we meet with such unreasonable men, as ths 2 I. 2

said Bucholcer did, qui (irrepta ex aliqiiihus voculis cahnnniandi materia, luereseos inaimnlare et traducere optimum virum non erubescerent; fntstra ohtestante ipso, dextre data, dextre accipe-rent: i. e. who, taking occasion of reproach from some small words, were not ashamed to traduce the good man, and accuse him of heresy, while he in vain obtested with them, that they should take in good part what Avas delivered with a good intention. Siracides saith, in Ecclesiasticus, chap. xxvi. that a scolding woman shall be sought out for to drive away the enemies; but experience of all ages tells us, to our sorrow, that the wrangling divine is their chief-est inlet, and no such scarecrow to them at all.

So then it is clear to me that there is nothing worth our minding but heaven, and the way to heaven.

All the question will be about the affairs of church and state. Ij not this worth our minding, to see what things will come to, and how God will conclude our differences ?

Ansic. So far as they are considered as the providences of God, and as they tend to the settling of the gospel, and government of Christ, and so to the saving of our own and our posterity's souls, they are well worth our diligent observation : but these are only their relations to eternity. Otherwise, I should look upon all the stirs and commotions in the world, but as the busy gadding of a heap of ants, or the swarming of a nest of wasps or bees ; the spurn of a man's foot destroys all their labour: or as an interlude, or a tragedy, of a few hours long. They first quarrel, and then fight, and let out one another's blood, and bring themselves more speedily and violently to their graves, which, however, they could not long have delayed, and so come down, and the play is ended. And the next generation succeeds them in their madness, and makes the like bustle in the world for a time ; and so they also come down, and lie in the dust. Like the Roman gladiators, that would kill one another by the hundreds, to make the beholders a solemn show; or as the young men of Joab and Abner, that must play before them, by stabbing one another to the heart, and fall down and die, and there is an end of the sport. And is this worth a wise man's observance ?

Surely our very bodies themselves, for which we make all this ado in the world, are very silly pieces : look upon them (not as they are set out in a borrowed bravery) but as they lie rotting in a ditch, or grave; and you will say, they are silly things indeed. Why then, sure all our dealings in the world, our buyings and sellings, and eating and drinking, our building and marrying, our wealth and honours, our peace and our war, so far as they relate not to the life to come, but tend only to the support and pleasing of this silly flesh, must needs themselves be silly things, and not worthy the frequent thoughts of a Christian : for the means (as such) is meaner than their end.

And now doth not thy conscience say as I say, that there is nothing ])ut heaven, and the way to it, that is worth thy minding?

Sect. XV. Thus 1 have given thee these twelve arguments to

consider of, and, if it may be, to persuade thee to a lioavenly mind. I now desire thee to view them over ; read them deliberately, and read them again, and then tell me, are they reason, or are they not.' Reader, stop here, while thou answcrest my question : Are these considerations weighty, or not? Are these arguments convincing, or not i Have I proved it thy duty, and a flat necessity, to keep thy heart on things above, or have I not ? Say yea, or nay, man ! If thou say nay, I am confident thou contradictcst thine own conscience, and speakest against the light that is in thee, and thy reason tells thee thou speakest falsely : if thou say yea, and acknowledge thyself convinced of the duty, bear witness then, that I have thine own confession : that very tongue of thine shall condemn thee, and that confession be pleaded against thee, if thou now go home, and cast this off, and wilfully neglect such a confessed duty; and these twelve considerations shall be as a jury to convict thee, which I propounded, hoping they might be effectual to persuade thee. I have not yet fully laid open to you the nature and particular way of that duty, which I am all this while persuading you to; that is the next thing to be done : all that I have said hitherto, is but to make you willing to perform it. I know the whole work of man's salvation doth stick most at his own will; if we could once get over this block well, I see not what could stand before us. Be soundly willing, and the work is more than half done. I have now a few plain directions to give you, for to help you in doing this great work ; but, alas ! it is in vain to mention them, except you be willing to put them in practice. .What sayest thou, reader .' Art thou willing, or art thou not ? Wilt thou obey, if I show thee the way of thy duty ? However, I will set them down, and tender them to thee, and the Lord persuade thy heart to the work.

CHAPTER IV.

CONTAINING SOME HINDERANCES OF A HEAVENLY LIFE.

Sect. I. The first task that I must here set thee, consists in the avoiding some dangerous hinderances, which otherwise will keep thee off" from this work, as they have done many a thousand before thee. If I show thee briefly where the rocks and gulf do lie, I hope thou wilt beware. If 1 stick up a mark at every quicksand, I hope I need to say no more, to put thee by it. Therefore, as thou valuest the comforts of a heavenly conversation, I here charge thee from God to beware most carefully of these impediments.

1. The first is, the living in a known unmortified sin. Observe this. Oh what havoc will this make in thy soul! Oh the joys that this hath destroyed! the blessed comnmnion with God that this hath interrupted ! the ruins it hath made amongst men's

graces ! the soul-strengthening duties that this hath hindered! And above all others, it is especially an enemy to this great duty. Christian reader, I desire thee, in the fear of God, stay here a little, and search thy heart. Art thou one that hath used violence ■with thy conscience ? Art thou a wilful neglecter of known duties, either public, private, or secret ? Art thou a slave to thine appetite, in eating or drinking, or to any other commanding sense ? Art thou a proud seeker of thine own esteem, and a man that must needs have men's good opinion, or else thy mind is all in a combustion ? Art thou a wilfully peevish and passionate person, as if thou wert made of tinder, or gunpowder, ready to take fire at every word, or every wry look, or every supposed slighting of thee, or every neglect of a compliment or courtesy ? Art thou a knowing deceiver of others in thy dealing, or one that hath set thyself to rise in the world ? not to speak of greater sins, which all take notice of. If this be thy case, I dare say, heaven and thy soul are very great strangers : I dare say, thou art seldom in heart with God, and there is little hope it should ever be better, as long as thou continu-est in these transgressions. These beams in thine eyes will not suffer thee to look to heaven; these will be a cloud between thee and God. When thou dost but attempt to study eternity, and to gather comfort from the life to come, thy sin will presently look thee in the face, and say. These things belong not to thee. How shouldst thou take comfort from heaven, who takest so much pleasure in the lusts of thy flesh ? Oh, how this will damp thy joys, and make the thoughts of that day and state to become thy trouble, and not thy delight! Every wilful sin that thou livest in, will be to thy comforts as water to the fire; when thou thinkest to quicken them, this will quench them ; when thy heart begins to draw near to God, this will presently come in thy mind, and cover thee with shame, and fill thee with doubting. Besides, (which is most to the point in hand,) it doth utterly indispose thee, and disable thee to this work : when thou shouldst wind up thy heart to heaven, alas ! it is biassed another way ; it is entangled in the lusts of the flesh; and can no more ascend in Divine meditation than the bird can fly whose wings are clipped, or that is entangled in the lime twigs, or taken in the snare. Sin doth cut the very sinews of the soul; therefore, I say of this heavenly life, as Mr. Bolton saith of prayer. Either it will make thee leave sinning, or sin will make thee leave it, and that quickly too, for these cannot continue together. If thou be here guilty, who readest this, I require thee sadly to think of this folly. O man! what a life dost thou lose ; and what a life dost thou choose; what daily delights dost thou sell for the swinish pleasure of a stinking lust; what a Christ, what a glory, dost thou turn thy back upon, when thou art going to the embracements of thy hellish pleasures ! I have read of a gallant addicted to uncleanness, who at last meeting with a beautiful dame, and having enjoyed his fleshly desires of her, found her in the morning to be the dead body of one that he had formerly sinned with, which had been acted by the devil all night, and left

dead again in the morning. Surely, all thy sinful ph^asures are such : the devil doth animate them in the darkness of the night; but when God awakes thee, at the farthest at death, the deceit is vanished, and nothing left hut a carcass to ama/e thee, and he a spectacle of horror before thine eyes. 'J'hou thinkest thou hast hold of some choice delight, but it will turn in thy hand (as Moses's rod) into a serpent; and then thou wouldst fain be rid of it, if thou knewest how ; and would lly from the face of it, as thou dost now embrace it: and shall this now detain thee from the high delights of the saints ? If heaven and hell can meet together, and if God can become a lover of sin, then mayst thou live in thy sin and in the tastes of glory, and mayst have a conversation in heaven though thou cherish thy corruption. If, therefore, thou find thyself guilty, never doubt on it but this is the cause that estrangeth thee from heaven; and take heed lest it keep out thee, as it keeps out thy heart; and do not say but thou wast bid take heed. Yea, if thou be a man that hitherto hast escaped, and knowest no reigning sin in thy soul, yet let this warning move thee to prevention, and stir up a dread of this danger in thy spirit. As Hunnius writes of liimself, that, hearing the mention of the unpardonable sin against the Holy Ghost, it stirred up such fears in his spirit, that made him cry out, ^^'hat if this should be my case ? and so roused him to prayer and trial. So think thou, though tlioli yet be not guilty, what a sad thing were it, if ever this should prove thy case, and therefore watch. Especially resolve to keep from the occasions of sin, and, as much as is possible, out of the way of temptations. The strongest Christian is unsafe among occasions of sin. Oh what need have we to pray daily, " Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil ! " And shall we pray against them, and cast ourselves upon them ? If David, Solomon, Peter, See. teach you not, at least look upon the multitudes that have revolted of late times, and fallen into the most horrid sins, with religious pretences. As Christ thought meet to say to his disciples, " Remend)er Lot's wife; and what I say to one I say to all, Watch ;" so say I, Remember these, and watch.

Sect. II. 2. A second hinderance carefully to The description of a be avoided is, an earthly mind; for you may easily worUimfj.

conceive that this cannot stand with a heavenly mind. God and mammon, earth and heaven, cannot both have the delight of thy heart. This makes thee like Anselm's bird, with a stone tied to the foot, which as oft as she took flight, did pluck her to the earth again. If thou be a man that hast fancied to thyself some content or happiness to be found on earth, and beginnest to taste a sweetness in gain, and to aspire after a fuller and a higher estate ; and hast hatched some thriving projects in thy brain, and art driving on thy rising design; believe it, thou art marching with thy back upon Christ, and art posting apace from this heavenly life. Why, hath not the world that from thee, which God hath from the heavenly believer?. When he is blessing himself in his God, and rejoicing in hope of the glory to come, then thou art blessing thyself

in thy prosperity, and rejoicing in hope of thy thriving here : when he is solacing his soul in the views of Christ, of the angels and saints, that he shall live with for ever, then art thou comforting thyself with thy wealth, in looking over thy bills and bonds, in viewing thy money, thy goods, thy cattle, thy buildings, or large possessions ; and art recreating thy mind in thinking on thy hopes ; of the favour of some great ones, on whom thou dependest; of the pleasantness of a plentiful and commanding state ; of thy larger provision for thy children after thee ; of the rising of thy house, or the obeisance of thine inferiors. Are not these thy morning and evening thoughts, when a gracious soul is above with Christ ? Dost thou not delight and please thyself with a daily rolling these thoughts in thy mind, when a gracious soul should have higher delights .'* If he were a fool by the sentence of Christ that said, " Soul, take thy rest, thou hast enough laid up for many years;" what a fool of fools art thou, that, knowing this, yet takest not warning, but in thy heart speakest the same words ! Look them over seriously, and tell me what difference between this fool's expressions and thy affections ? I doubt not but thou hast more wit than to speak thy mind just in his language; but, man, remember thou hast to do with the Searcher of hearts. It may be, thou boldest on thy course of duty, and prayest as oft as thou didst before; it may be, thou keepest in with good ministers, and with godly men, and seemest as forward in religion as ever: but what is all this to the purpose ? Mock not thy soul, man, for God will not be so mocked. What good may yet remain in thee, I know not; but sure I am, thy course is dangerous, and, if thou follow it on, will end in dolour. Methinks I see thee befooling thyself, and tearing thy hair, and gnashing thy teeth, when thou hearest thy case laid open by God : " Thou fool, this night shall they require thy soul from thee; and then whose are all these things?" Certainly, so much as thou delightest and restest on earth, so much is abated^of thy delights in God. Thine earthly mind may consist with thy profession and common duties, but it cannot consist with this heavenly duty. I need not tell thee all this, if thou wouldst deal impartially, and not be a traitor to thy own soul: thou knowest thyself how seldom and cold, how cursory and strange, thy thoughts have been of the joys hereafter, ever since thou didst trade so eagerly for the world. Methinks I even perceive thy conscience stir now, and tell thee plainly that this is thy case. Hear it, man ! Oh ! hear it now, lest thou hear it in another manner when thou wouldst be full loth. Oh the cursed madness of many that seem to be religious; who thrust themselves into a multitude of employments, and think they can never have business enough till they are loaded with labours and clogged with cares ; that their souls are as unfit to converse with God, as a man to walk with a mountain on his back; and till he hath even transformed his soul almost into the nature of his drossy carcass, and made it as unapt to soar aloft as his body is to leap above the sun : and when all is done, and they have lost that heaven they might have had upon earth, they take up a few rotten

CuAi>. IV. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. :yj[

arprunients to prove it lawful, and then they think that they have Kalvcd all. 'I'hougli these sots would not do so for thcnr hodies, nor forbear their eating, or drinking, or sh^eping, or sporting, though they could prove it lawful so to do, though, indinnl, they cannot prove it lawlul neither. They miss not the pleasures of this heavenly life, if they can but quiet their consciences, while they fasten upon lower and baser pleasures. For thee, O Christian, who hast tasted of these pleasures, I advise thee, as thou valuest their enjoyment, as ever thou wouldst taste of them any more, take heed of this gulf of an earthly mind ; for if once thou come to this, that thou wilt be rich, " thou fallest into temptation, and a snare, and into divers foolish and hurtful lusts :" it is St. Paul's own words, 1 Tim. vi. 9. Set not thy mind, as Saul, on the asses, when the kingdom of glory is set before thee. Keep these things as thy upper garments, still loose about thee, that thou mayst lay them l)y whenever there is cause : but let God and glory be next thy heart, yea, as the very blood and spirit by which thou livest. Still remember that of the Spirit, " The friendship of the world is enmity with God : whosoever, therefore, will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God," James iv. 4. And, " Love not the world, nor the things of the world : if any love the world, the love of the Father is not in him," 1 John ii. 15. This is plain dealing, and happy he that faithfully receives it.

Sect. III. 3. A third hinderance which I must advise thee to beware is, the company of ungodly and sensual men. Not that I would dissuade thee from necessary converse, or from doing them any office of love, especially not from endeavouring the good of their souls, as long as thou hast any opportunity or hope : nor would I have thee conclude them to be dogs and swine, that so thou mayst evade the duty of reproof; nor yet to judge them such at all, as long as there is any hope of better, or before thou art certain they are such indeed. Much less can I approve of the practice of those who, because the most of the world are naught, do therefore conclude men dogs, or swine, before ever they faithfully and lovingly did admonish them, yea, or perhaps before they have known them, or spoke with them : and hereupon they will not communicate with them in the Lord's supper, but separate from them into distinct congregations. I persuade thee to no such ungodly separation : as I never found one word in Scripture where either Christ or his apostles denied admittance to any man that desired to be a member of the church, tliough but only professing to repent and believe ; so neither did I ever there find that any but convicted heretics, and scandalous ones, and that for the most part after due admonition, were to be avoided or debarred our fellowship. And whereas it is urged that they are to prove their title to the privileges which they lay claim to, and not we to disprove it: I answer. If that were granted, yet their mere sober professing to repent and believe in Christ, is as to us a sufficient evidence of their title to church membership, and admittance thereto by baptism, supposing them not admitted before ; and their being baptized persons, if at age.

or members of the universal visible church, into which it'is that they are baptized, and owning their baptismal profession, is sufficient evidence of their title to the supper, till they do by heresy or scandal blot that evidence ; which evidence, if they do produce in the church of which they are members, yea, though they are yet, weak in the faith of Christ, who is he that dare refuse to receive them ? And this, after much doubting, dispute, and study of the Scriptures, I speak as confidently as almost any truth of equal moment: so plain is the Scripture in this point, to a man that brings his understanding to the model of Scripture, and doth not bring a model in his brain, and reduce all he reads to that model. The door of the visible church is incomparably wider than the door of heaven: and Christ is so tender, so bountiful, and forward to convey his grace, and the gospel so free an offer and invitation to all, that surely Christ will keep no man off: if they will come quite over in spirit to Christ, they shall be welcome ; if they will come but only to a visible profession, he will not deny them admittance there, because they intend to go no farther, but will let them come as near as they will; and that they come no farther, shall be their own fault: and so it is not his readiness to admit such, nor the openness of the door of his visible church, that makes men hypocrites, but their own wickedness. Christ will not keep such out among infidels, for fear of making hypocrites; but when the net is drawn unto the shore, the fishes shall be separated; and when the time of harvest comes, " then the angels shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them that work iniquity/' Matt, xiii. 41. There are many saints, or sanctified men, that yet shall never come to heaven, who are only saints by their separation from paganism, into fellowship with the visible church, but not saints in the strictest sense, by separation from the ungodly into the fellowship of the mystical body of Christ. Heb. x. 29 ; Dent. vii. 6; xiv. 2, 21 ; xxvi. 19 ; xxviii. 9 ; Exod. xix. 6 ; 1 Cor. vii. 13, 14 ; Rom. xi. 16 ; Heb. iii. 1, compared with verse 12 ; 1 Cor. iii. 17 ; xiv. 33; 1 Cor. i. 2, compared with xi. 20, 21, &c.; Gal. iii. 26, compared with Gal. iii. 3, 4, iv. 11, and v, 2—4; John xv. 2.

Thus far I have digressed, by way of caution, that you may not think that I dissuade you from lawful converse ; but it is the unnecessary society of ungodly men, and too much familiarity with unprofitable companions, though they be not so apparently ungodly, that I dissuade you from. There are many persons whom we may not avoid or excommunicate out of the church, no, nor out of our private society, judicially, or by way of penalty to them, whom yet we must exclude from our too-much familiarity in w'ay of prudence for preservation of ourselves. It is not only the open profane, the swearer, the drunkard, and the enemies of godliness, that will prove hurtful companions to us, though these, indeed, are chiefly to be avoided; but too frequent society with dead-hearted formalists, or persons merely civil and moral, or whose conference is empty, unsavoury, and barren, may much divert our thoughts from heaven, and do ourselves a great deal of wrong. As mere idleness and for-

CiiAi'. IV. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. .523

petting God, will koep a soul as certainly from heaven, as a profane, licentious, ll^shly life ; so also will the useless company of such idle, forgetful, negligent persons, as surely keep our hearts from heaven, as the company of men more dissolute and profane. Alas ! our dulness and hackwardness is such, that we have need of the most constant and powerful helps. A clod, or a stone, that lies on the earth, is as prone to arise and fly in the air, as our hearts are naturally to move towards heaven. Vou need not hold nor hinder the earth and rocks, to keep them from flying up to the skies; it is suflicient that you do not help them. And, surely, if our spirits have not great assistance, they may easily he kept from flying aloft, though they never should meet with the least impediment. Oh, think of this in the choice of your company. When your spirits are so powerfully disposed for heaven that you need no help to lift them up ; but, as the flames, you are always mounting upward, and carrying with you all that is in your way, then you may, indeed, he less careful of your company ; but till then, as you love the delights of a heavenly life, be careful therein. As it is reported of a lord that was near to his death, and the doctor that prayed with him read over the Litany ; " for all women labouring with child, for all sick persons and young children, &c.; from lightning and tempest, from plague, pestilence, and famine ; from battle, murder, and sud-dm death," &c.; " Alas ! " sailh he, " what is this to me who must presently die ?" &c.: so mayst thou say of such men's conference, who can talk of nothing but their callings and vanity ; Alas ! what is this to me who must shortly be in rest, and should now be refreshing my soul with its foretastes ? What will it advantage thee to a life with God, to hear where the fair is such a day, or how the market goes, or what weather is, or is like to be ; or when the moon changed, or what news is stirring ? Why, this is the discourse of earthly men. What will it conduce to the raising of thy heart God-ward, to hear that this is an able minister, or that a serious Christian, or that this was an excellent sermon, or that an excellent book ; to hear a violent arguing or tedious discourse of baptism, ceremonies, the power of the keys, the order of God's decrees, or other such controversies of great difficulty, but little importance ? Yet this, for the most part, is the sweetest discourse that thou art like to have of a formal, speculative, dead-hearted professor. Nay, if thou hadst newly been warming thy heart in the contemplation of the blessed joys above, would not this discourse benumb thine afftections and quickly freeze thy heart again ? I appeal to the judgment of any man that hath tried it, and maketh observations on the frame of his spirit. Men cannot well talk of one thing and mind another, especially things of such differing natures. You young men, who are most liable to this temptation, think sadly of what I say. Can you have your hearts in heaven on an ale-house bench, among your roaring, singing, swaggering companions, or when you work in your shops with none but such whose ordinary language is oaths, or filthiness, or foolish talking, or jesting ? Nay, let me tell you thus much more ; that if you choose such company

when you might have better, and find more delight and content in such, you are so far from a heavenly conversation, that as yet you have no title to heaven at all, and in that estate shall never come there : for were your treasure there, your heart would not be on things so distant, Matt. vi. 21. In a word, our company will be part of our happiness in heaven, and it is a singular part of our furtherance to it, or hinderance from it. As the creatures living in the several elements are commonly of the temperature of the element they live in, as the fishes cold and moist like the water, the worms cold and dry as the earth, and so the rest; so are we usually like the society which we most converse in. He that never found it hard to have a heavenly mind in earthly company, it is certainly because he never tried.

Sect. IV. 4. A fourth hinderance to heavenly conversation is, .too frequent disputes about lesser truths, and especially when a man's religion lies only in his opinions : a sure sign of an unsancti-fied soul. If sad examples be doctrinal to you, or the judgments of God upon us to be regarded, I need to say the less upon this particular. It is legibly written in the faces of thousands; it is visible in the complexion of our diseased nation : this fades Jiypo-critica is our fades hypocrailca. He that hath the least skill in physiognomy may see that this complexion is mortal, and this picture-like, shadow-like visage aifordeth our state a sad prognostic. You that have been my companions in armies and garrisons, in cities and countries, I know have been my companions in this observation, that they are usually men least acquainted with a heavenly life, who are the violent disputers about the circumstantials of religion. He whose religion is all in his opinions, will be most frequently and zealously speaking his opinions ; and he whose religion lies in the knowledge and love of God in Christ, will be most delightfully speaking of that time when he shall enjoy God and Christ. As the body doth languish in consuming fevers when the native heat abates within, and an unnatural heat inflaming the external parts succeeds; so, when the zeal of a Christian doth leave the internals of religion, and fly to ceremonials, externals, or inferior things, the soul must needs consume and languish : yea, though you were sure your opinions were true, yet when the chiefest of your zeal is turned thither, and the chiefest of your conference there laid out, the life of grace decays within, and your hearts are turned from this heavenly life. Not that I would persuade you to undervalue the least truth of God, nor that I do acknowledge the hot disputers of the time to have discovered the truth above their brethren; but in case we should grant them to have hit on the truth, yet let every truth in our thoughts and speeches have their due proportion, and I am confident the hundredth part of our time and our conference would not be spent upon the now common themes. For as there are a hundred truths of far greater consequence, who do all challenge the precedency before these, so many of those truths alone are of a hundred times nearer concernment to our souls, and therefore should have an answerable proportion in

our thoughts. Neither is it any excuse for our casting by those great, fundamental truths, because they are connnon and known already ; for the chief iniprovcMuent is yet behind, and the soul must be daily refreshed with the truth of Scripture, and the goodness of that which it oH'ereth and promiseth, as the body must be with its daily food ; or else the known truths that lie idle in your heads will no more nourish, or comfort, or save you, than the bread that lies still in your cupboards will feed you. Ah ! he is a rare and precious Christian who is skilled in the improving of well-known truths. Therefore let me advise you that aspire after this joyous life, spend not too much of your thoughts, your time, your zeal, or your speeches, upon quarrels that less concern your souls; but when hypocrites are feeding on husks or shells, or on this heated food which will burn their lips iar sooner than warm and strengthen their hearts, then do you feed on the joys above. I could wish you were all understanding men, able to defend every truth of God; and to this end that you would read and study controversy more ; and your understanding and stability in these days of trial is no small part of my comfort and encouragement. But still I would have the chiefest to be chiefly studied, and none to shoulder out your thoughts of eternity. The least controverted points are usually most weighty, and of most necessary frequent use to our souls.

For you, my neighbours and friends in Christ, I bless God that I have so little need to urge this hard upon you, or to spend my time and speeches in the pulpit on these quarrels, as I have been necessitated, to my discontent, to do elsewhere : I rejoice in the wisdom and goodness of our Lord, who hath saved me much of this labour, 1. Partly by his tempering of your spirits to sincerity. 2. Partly by the doleful, yet profitable example of those few that went from us, whose former and present condition of spirit makes them stand, as the pillar of salt, for a continual terrov and warning to you, and so to be as useful as they were like to bo hurtful. 3. Partly by the confessions and bewailings of this sin that you have heard from the mouth of the dying, advising you to beware of changing your fruitful society for the company of deceivers. I do unfeignedly rejoice in these providences, and bless the Lord who thus establisheth his saints. Study well these precepts of the Spirit: " Him that is weak in the faith, receive, but not to doubtful disputations," Rom. xiv. 1. "But foolish and unlearned questions avoid, knowing that they do gender strifes; and the servant of the Lord must not strive," 2 Tim. ii. 23. " But avoid foolish questions, and genealogies, and contentions, and strivings about the law, for they are unprofitable and vain," Tit. iii. 9. " If any man teach otherwise, and consent not to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the doctrine which is according to godliness ; he is proud, knowing nothing, but doting about questions and strifes of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, railing, evil surmisings, perverse disputings of men of corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth, supposing that gain is godliness : from such withdraw thyself," 1 Tim. vi. 3—5.

Sect. V. .5. As you value the comforts of a heavenly life, take heed of a proud and lofty spirit. There is such an antipathy between this sin and God, that thou wilt never get thy heart near him, nor get him near thy heart, so long as this prevaileth in it. If it cast the angpls from heaven that were in it, it must needs keep thy heart estranged from it. If it cast our first parents out of Paradise, and separated between the Lord and us, and brought his curse on all the creatures here below, it must needs then keep our hearts from paradise, and increase the cursed separation from our God. Believe it, hearers, a proud heart and a heavenly heart are exceeding contrary. Intercourse with God will keep men low, and that lowliness will further their intercourse. When a man is used to be much with God, and taken up in the study of his glorious attributes, he abhors himself in dust and ashes, and that self-abhorrence is his best preparative to obtain admittance to God again. Therefore, after a soul-humbling day, or in times of trouble, when the soul is lowest, it useth to have freest access to God, and savour most of the life above. He will bring them into the wilderness, and there he will speak comlbrtably to them, Hos. ii. 14. The delight of God is a humble soul, even him that is contrite, and trembleth at his word; and the delight of a humble soul is in God; and sure, where there is mutual delight, there will be freest admittance, and heartiest welcome, and most frequent converse. Heaven would not hold God and the proud angels together, but a humble soul he makes his dwelling; and surely if our dwelling be with hi-nfi, and in him, and his dwelling also be with us, and in us, there must needs be a most near and sweet familiarity. But the soul that is proud cannot plead this privilege. God is so far from dwelling in it, that he will not admit it to any near access, but looks upon it afar off, Psal. cxxxviii. 6. The proud he resisteth, and the proud resisteth him, but to the humble he gives this and other graces, 1 Pet. v. 5. A proud mind is a high mind in conceit, self-esteem, and carnal aspiring. A heavenly mind is a high mind indeed in God's esteem, and in higher, yet holy, aspiring. These two sorts of high-mindedness are more adverse to one another, than a high mind and a low : as we see that most wars and bloodshed is between princes and princes, and not between a prince and a ploughman. A low spirit and a humble is not so contrary to a high and heavenly, as is a high and a proud. A grain of mustard-seed may come to be a tree; a small acorn may be a great oak ; the sail of the windmill that is now down may presently be the highest of all; a subject that is low may be raised high, and he that is high maybe yet higher, as long as he stands in subordination to his prince, who is the fountain of honour ; but if he break out of that isubordination, and become a competitoi', or will assume and arrogate honour to himself, he will find this prove the falling way. A man that is swelled in a dropsy with wind or water, is as far from a sound, well-fleshed constitution, as he that is in a consuming atrophy. Well, then, art thou a man of worth in thine own eyes, and very tender of thine esteem with others ? Art thou one that much

vainest the applause of the people, and feelest thy heart tickled with delight when thou hearest of thy great cstecni with men, and nuich deji-eted when thou hearest that men slight thee .' Dost thou love those hest who highly honour thee, and doth thy heart hear a grudge at those that thou thinkest do undervalue thee, and entertain mean thoughts of thee, though they be otherwise men of godliness and honesty ? Art thou one that nmst needs have thy humours fulfilled, and thy judgment must be a rule to the judgments of others, and thy word a law to all about thee ? Art thou ready to quarrel with every man that lets fall a word in derogation from thy honour { Are thy passions kindled if thy word or will be crossed .'' Art thou ready to judge humility to be sordid baseness, and knowest not how to stoop and submit; and wilt not be brought to shame thyself by humble confession when thou hast sinned against God, or injured thy brother i Art thou one that honourest the godly that are rich, and thinkest thyself somebody if they value and own thee, but lookest strangely at the godly poor, and art almost ashamed to be their companion? Art thou one that canst not serve God in a low place as well as in a high ; and thinkest thyself the fittest for offices and honours, and lovest God's service when it stands with preferment ? Hast thou thine eye and thy speech much on thy own deservings ; and are thy boastings restrained more by wit than by humility .'' Dost thou delight in opportunities of setting forth thy parts, and lovest to have thy name made public to the world, and wouldst fain leave behind thee some monument of thy worth, that posterity may admire thee when thou art dead and gone ? Hast thou witty circundocutions to commend thyself, while thou seemest to abase thyself, and deny thy worth ? Dost thou desire to have all men's eyes upon thee, and to hear men observing thee, say. This is he ? Is this the end of thy studies and learning, of thy labours and duties, of seeking degrees, and titles, and places, that thou mayst be taken for somebody abroad in the world ? Art thou unacquainted with the deceitfulness and wickedness of thy heart; or knowest thyself to be vile only by reading and by hearsay, but not by experience, and feeling of thy vileness ? Art thou readier to defend thyself, and maintain thine innocency, than to accuse thyself, or confess thy fault ? Canst thou hardly bear a close reproof, and dost digest plain dealing with difficulty and distaste ? Art thou readier in thy discourse to teach than to learn, and to dictate to others than to hearken to their instructions ? Art thou bold and confident of thy own opinions, and little suspicious of the weakness of thy understanding, but a slighter of the judgment of all that are against thee { Is thy spirit more disposed to command and govern, than it is to obey and be ruled by others ? Art thou ready to censure the doctrine of thy teachers, the actions of thy rulers, and the persons of thy brethren ; and to think, if thou wert a judge, thou wouldst be more just; or, if thou wert a minister, thou wouldst be more fruitful in doctrine, and more faithful in overseeing ; or, if thou hadst the managing of other men's business, thou wouldst have carried it more honestly and wisely ? If these

symptoms be undeniably in tby beart, beyond doubt tbou art a proud person. I will not talk of tby following tbe fasbions, of thy bravery and comportment, tby proud gestures and arrogant speecbes, tby living at a rate above tby abilities. Perbaps tby incompetency of estate, or tby competency of wit, may suffice to restrain these unmanly fooleries. Perbaps tbou mayst rather seem sordid to others, and to live at a rate below thy worth; and yet, if thou be guilty of the former accusations, be it known to thee thou art a person abominably proud; it bath seized on thy beart, which is the principal fort; there is too much of bell abiding in thee, for thee to have any acquaintance in heaven. Thy soul is too like the devil for thee to have any familiarity with God. A proud man is all in the flesh, and be that will be heavenly must be much in tbe Spirit, Is it likely that tbe man whom I have here described, bath either will or skill to go out of himself, and out of the flesh, as it were, and out of the world, that so be may have freedom for converse above ? A proud man makes himself his god, and admires and sets himself as his idol; bow, then, can he have his aff'ections set on God ? As the bumble, godly man is tbe zealot in forward worshipping of God, so the ambitious man is the great zealot in idolatry ; for what is his ambition but a more hearty and earnest desire after his idol, than tbe common and calmer idolaters do reach ? And can this man possibly have his heart in heaven ? It is possible his invention and memory may furnish his tongue both with humble and heavenly expressions, but in bis spirit there is no more heaven than there is humility.

I entreat you, readers, be very jealous of your souls in this point. There is nothing in the world will more estrange you from God. I speak the more of it, because it is the most common and dangerous sin in morality, and most promoting the great sin of infidelity. You VN^ould little think (yea, and the owners do little think) what bumble carriage, what exclaiming against pride, what moanful self-accusings, may stand with this devilish sin of pride. O Christian, if thou wouldst live continually in tbe presence of thy Lord, and lie in the dust, he would thence take thee up : descend first with him into the grave, thence thou mayst ascend with him to glory. Learn of him to be meek and lowly, and then thou mayst taste of this rest to thy soul. Tby soul else will be as -the troubled sea, still casting out mire and dirt, which cannot rest; and, instead of these sweet delights in God, thy pride will fill thee with perpetual disquietness. It is tbe bumble soul that forgets not God, and God will not forget the humble, Psal. ix. 12; x. 12. As be that hum-bletb himself as a little child, shall hereafter be greatest in the kingdom of God, Matt, xviii. 4, so shall be now be greatest in tbe foretastes of the kingdom; for, as whosoever exaltetb himself shall be abased, so he that bumblctb himself shall be, in both these respects, exalted. Matt, xxiii. 12. God therefore dwelletb with him that is bumble and contrite, to revive the spirit of such with bis presence, Isa. Ivii. 15. I conclude with that counsel of James and Peter, Humble yourselves, therefore, in tbe sight of the Lord,

and he shall now in the spirit lift you up, James iv. 10, and in due time shall port'cctly exalt you, I Pet. v. G. And when others are cast down, then shalt thou say, " There is a lifting up, and he shall save the humble person," Job xxii. 29 ; Prov. xv. S'S ; xviii. 22.

Sect. VI. (5. Another impediment to this heavenly hfe is, wilful laziness, and slothfulness of spirit ; and I verily think for knowing men, there is nothing hinders more than this. Oh, if it were only the exercise of the body, the moving of the lips, the bending of the knee, then it were an easy work indeed, and men would as commonly step to heaven as they go a few miles to visit a friend; yea, if it were to spend most of our days in numbering beads, and repeating certain words and prayers, in voluntary humility, and neglecting the body, after the commandments and doctrines of men, Col. ii. 21—23, yea, or in the outward part of duties commanded by God, yet it were comparatively easy. Further, if it were only in the exercise of parts and gifts, though we made such performance our daily trade, yet it were easy to be heavenly-minded. But it is a work more difficult than all this, to separate thoughts and affections from the world ; to force them to a work of so high a nature ; to draw forth all our graces in their order, and exercise each on its proper object ; to hold them to this till they perceive success, and till the work doth thrive and prosper in their hands. This, this is the difficult task. Reader, heaven is above thee, the way is upwards. Dost thou think, who art a feeble, short-winded sinner, to travel daily this steep ascent without a great deal of labour and resolution ? Canst thou get that earthly heart to heaven, and bring that backward mind to God, while thou liest still, and takcst thine ease ? If lying down at the foot of the hill, and looking toward the top, and wishing we were there, would serve the turn, then we should have daily travellers for heaven. But the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force, Matt. xi. 12. There must be violence used to get the first-fruits, as well as to get the full possession. Dost thou not feel it so, though I should not tell thee ? Will thy heart get upwards, except thou drive it ? Is it not like a dull and jadish horse, that will go no longer than he feels the spur ? Dost thou find it easy to dwell in the delights above ? It is true, the work is exceeding sweet, and no condition on earth so desirable; but therefore it is that our hearts are so backward, especially in the beginning, till we are acquainted with it. Oh, how many hundred professors of religion, who can easily bring their hearts to ordinary duties, as reading, hearing, praying, conferring, could never yet in all their lives bring them and keep them to a heavenly contemplation one half hour together ! Consider here, reader, as before the Lord, whether this be not thine own case. Thou hast known that heaven is all thy hopes; thou knowest thou must shortly be turned hence, and that nothing below can yield thee rest; thou knowest also, that a strange heart, a seldom and careless thinking of heaven, can fetch but little comfort thence ; and dost thou yet for all this let slip thy opportunities, and lie below in dust, or mere duties, when 2 M

thou shouklst walk above, and live with God ? Dost thou commend the sweetness of a heavenly life, and judge those the excellentest Christians that use it; and yet didst never once try it thyself? But as the sluggard that stretched himself on his bed, and cried, Oh that this were working! so dost thou talk and trifle, and live at thy ease, and say, Oh that I could get my heart to heaven! This is to lie a-bed and wish, when thou shouklst be up and doing. How many a hundred do read books, and hear sermons, in expectation to hear of some easy course, or to meet with a shorter cut to comforts, than ever they are like to find in this world! And if they can hear of none from the preachers of truth, they will snatch it with rejoicing from the teachers of falsehood; and presently applaud the excellency of the doctrine, because it hath fitted their lazy temper; and think there is no other doctrine will comfort the soul, because it will not comfort it with hearing and looking on. They think their venison is best, though accompanied with a lie, because it is the easiest catched, and next at hand, and they think it will procure the chiefest blessing; and so it may, if God be as subject to mistake as blind Isaac. And while they pretend enmity only to the impossibilities of the law, they oppose the easier con-ditipns of the gospel, and cast off the burden that is light also, and which all must bear that will find rest to their souls; and in my judgment may as fitly be styled enemies to the gospel, as enemies to the law, from whence they receive their common title. The Lord of light and Spirit of comfort show these men in time a surer way for lasting comfort. The delusions of marly of them are strong, and ungrounded comforts they seem to have store. I can judge it to be of no better a kind, because it comes not in the Scripture way. They will some of them profess, that when they meditate and labour for comfort themselves, they either have none, or at least but human, and of a lower kind ; but all the comforts that they own and value, are immediately injected without their pains : so do I expect my comforts to come in, in heaven ; but till then, I am glad if they will come with labour, and the Spirit will help me to suck them from the breasts of the promise, and to walk from them daily to the face of God. It was an established law among the Argi, that if a man were perceived to be idle and lazy, he must give an account before the magistrate, how he came by his victuals and maintenance. And sure, when I see these men lazy in the use of God's appointed means for comfort, I cannot but question how they come by their comforts. I would they would examine it thoroughly themselves, for God will require an account of it from them. Idleness, and not improving the truth in painful duty, is the common cause of men's seeking comfort from error; even as the people of Israel, when they had no comfortable answer from God, because of their own sin and neglect, would run to seek it from the idols of the heathens. So, when men were false-hearted to the truth, and the Spirit of .truth did deny them comfort, because they denied him sincere obedience, therefore they will seek it from a lying spirit.

A multitude also of professors there are, that come and inquire for marks and signs, How shall I know whether my heart be sincere ? and they think the bare naming of some mark is enough to discover it; but never bestow one hour in trying themselves by the marks they hear. So here, they ask for directions for a heavenly life; and if the hearing and knowing of these directions will serve, then they will be heavenly Christians ; but if we set them to task, and show them their work, and tell them they cannot have these delights on easier terms, then, here they leave us, as the young man left Christ, with sorrow. How our comforts are only in Christ, and yet this labour of ours is necessary thereto, I have showed you already in the beginning of this book, and therefore still refer you thither, when any shall put in that objection. My advice to such a lazy sinner is this : As thou art convict.that this work is necessary to thy comfortable living, so resolvedly set upon it; if thy heart draw back, and be undisposed, force it on with the command of reason ; and if thy reason begin to dispute the work, force it with producing the command of God; and quicken it up with the consideration of thy necessity, and the other motives before propounded; and let the enforcements that brought thee to the work, be still in thy mind to quicken thee in it: do not let such an incomparable treasure lie before thee, while thou liest still with thy hand in thy bosom : let not thy life be a continual vexation, which might be a continual delightful feasting, and all because thou wilt not be at the pains. When thou hast once tasted of the sweetness of it, and a little used thy heart to the work, thou wilt find the pains thou takest with thy backward flesh abundantly recompensed in the pleasures of thy spirit. Only sit not still with a disconsolate spirit, while comforts grow before thine eyes, like a man in the midst of a garden of flowers, or delightful meadow, that will not rise to get them, that he may partake of their sweetness. Neither is it a few formal, lazy, running thoughts that will fetch thee this consolation from above, any more than a few lazy, formal words will prevail with God instead of fervent prayer. I know Christ is the fountain, and I know this, as every other gift, is of God; but yet if thou ask my advice, how to obtain these waters of consolation, I must tell thee. There is something also for thee to do : the gospel hath its conditions and works, though not such impossible ones as the law; Christ hath his yoke and his burden, though easy, and thou must come to him weary, and take it up, or thou wilt never find rest to thy soul. The well is deep, and thou fnust get forth this water before thou canst be refreshed and delighted with it. What answer would you give a man that stands by a pump or draw-well, and should ask you, How shall I do to get out the water ? Why you must draw it up, or labour at the pump, and that not a motion or two, but you must pump till it comes, and then hold on till you have enough. Or, if a man were lifting at a heavy weight, or would move a stone to the top of a mountain, and should ask you. How he should get it up ? Why what should you say, but that he must put to his hands, and put forth his strength ? 2 M 2

And what else can I say to you, in directing you to this art of a heavenly life, but this : You must deal roundly with your hearts, and drive them up, and spur them on, and follow them close till the work be done ; as a man will do a lazy, unfaithful servant, who will do nothing longer than your eye is on him; or as you will your horse or ox at his labour, who will not stir any longer than he is driven : and if your heart lie down in the midst of the work, force it up again till the work be done, and let it not prevail by its lazy policies. I know so far as you are spiritual, you need not all this striving and violence, but that is but in part, and in part you are carnal; and as long as it is so, there is no talk of ease. Though your renewed nature do delight in this work, yea, no delight on earth so great, yet your nature, so far as it is fleshly and unrenewed, will draw back and resist, and necessitate your industry. It was the Parthians' custom, that none must give their children any meat in the morning, before they saw the sweat on their faces with some labour: and you shall find this to be God's most usual course, not to give his children the tastes of his delights, till they begin to sweat in seeking after them. Therefore lay them both together, and judge whether a heavenly life or thy carnal ease be better, and, as a wise man, make thy choice accordingly. Yet this let me say to encourage thee. Thou needest not expend thy thoughts more than now thou dost; it is but only to employ them better : I press thee not to busy thy mind much more than thou dost, but to busy it upon better and more pleasant objects. As Socrates said to a lazy fellow that would fain go up to Olympus, but that it was so far off; " Why," saith he, " walk but as far every day as thou dost up and down about thy house, and in so many days thou wilt be at Olympus :" so say I to thee ; Employ but so many serious thoughts every day upon the excellent glory of the life to come, as thou now employest on thy necessary affairs in the world, nay, as thou daily losest on vanities and impertinences, and thy heart will be at heaven in a very short space.

To conclude this, As I have seldom known Christians perplexed with doubts about their state for want of knowing right evidences to try by, so much as for want of skill and diligence in using them ; so have I seldom known a Christian that wants the joys of this heavenly life, for want of being told the means to get it, but for want of a heart to set upon the work, and painfully to use the means they are directed to. It is the field of the slothful that is overgrown with weeds, Prov. xxiv. 30—34; and the desire of the slothful killeth his joys, because his hands refuse to labour, Prov. xxi. 25. While he lies wishing, his soul lies starving. He saith. There is a lion (there is difficulty) in the way, and turneth himself on the bed of his ease, as a door turneth on the hinges : he hideth his hand in his bosom, and it grieveth him to bring it to his mouth, Prov. xxvi. 13—16, though it be to feed himself with the food of life. What is this but despising the feast prepared, and setting light by the dear-bought pleasures, and consequently by the precious blood that bought them, and throwing away our own conso-

lations? For the Spirit hatli told u.s, " that he also that i.s slothful in his work, is hrother to him that is a great waster," Prov. xviii. 9. Apply this to thy spiritual work, and study well the meaning of it.

Sect. VII. 7. It is also a dangerous and secret hinderancc to content ourselves with the mere preparatives to this heavenly life, while we are utter strangers to the life itself. AN hen we take up with the mere studies of heavenly things, and the notions and thoughts of them in our brain, or the tcilking of them with one another, as if this were all that makes us- heavenly people : there is none in more danger of this snare than those that are much in public duty, especially preachers of the gospel. Oh, how easily may they be deceived here, while they do nothing more than read of heaven, and study of heaven, and preach of heaven, and pray and talk of heaven! AN'hat! is not this the heavenly life ? Oh that God would reveal to our hearts the dangers of this snare ! Alas ! all this is but mere preparation; this is not the life we speak of, but it is indeed a necessary help hereto. I entreat every one of my brethren in the ministry, that they search and watch against this temptation : alas ! this is but gathering the materials, and not the erecting of the building itself; this is but gathering our manna for others, and not eating and digesting ourselves : as he that sits at home may study geography, and draw most exact descriptions of countries, and yet never sec them, nor travel toward them ; so may you describe to others the joys of heaven, and yet never come near it in your own hearts : as a man may tell others of the sweetness of meat which he never tasted, or as a blind man by learning may dispute of light and of colours ; so may you study and preach most heavenly matter, which yet never sweetened your own spirits ; and set forth to others that heavenly light, wherewith your own souls were never enlightened; and bring that fire for the hearts of your people, that never once warmed your own hearts. If you should study of nothing but heaven while you lived, and preach of nothing but heaven to your people, yet might your own hearts be strangers to it. What heavenly passages had Balaam in his prophecies ! yet little of it (it is like) in his spirit. Nay, we are under a more subtle temptation than any other men, to draw us from this heavenly life : if our employments did lie at a great distance from heaven, and did take up our thoughts upon worldly things, we should not be so apt to be so contented and deluded; but when we find ourselves employed upon nothing else, we are easier drawn to take up here. Studying and preaching of heaven is liker to a heavenly life, than thinking and talking of the world is, and the likeness is it that is like to deceive us : this is to die the most miserable death, even to famish ourselves because we have bread on our tables, which is worse than to famish when we cannot get it; and to die for thirst while we draw waters for others; thinking it enough that we have daily to do with it, though we never drjnk it to our souls' refreshing. All that I will say to you more of this, shall be in the words

of my godly and judicious friend* Mr. George Abbot, which I shall transcribe, lest you have not the book at hand, in his " Vindicire Sabbathi," p. 147—149.

"And here let me, in a holy jealousy, annex an exhortation to some of the minsters of this land, (for, blessed be God, it needs not to all,) that they would carefully provide, and look that they do not build the tabernacle on the Lord's day; I mean, that they rest not in the opiis operatum of their holy employments, and busying themselves about the carnal part of holy things, in putting off the studying of their sermons, or getting them by heart, (except it be to work them upon the heart, and not barely commit them to memory,) till that day; and so, though they take care to build tjie tabernacle of God's church, yet they in the mean time neglect the temple of their own hearts in serving God in the spirit, and not in the letter or outward performance only : but it were well if they would gather and pi-epare their manna, seethe it, and break it, the day before, that when the sabbath comes they might have nothing to do but to chew and concoct it into their own spirits, and so spiritually, in the experience of their own hearts, (not heads,) dish it out to their hearers, which would be a happy means to make them see better fruit of their labours ; for commonly that which is notionally delivered, is notionally received; and that which is spiritually and powerfully delivered in the evidence of the Spirit, is spiritually and savingly received; for spirit begets spirit, as fire begets fire, &c. It is an easy thing to take great pains in the outward part or performance of holy things, which oft proves a snare, causing the neglect of the spirit of the inner man ; for many are great labourers ill the work of the Lord, that are starvelings in the Spirit of the Lord, satisfying themselves in a popish peace of conscience in the deed-doing, instead of joy in the Holy Ghost; bringing, indeed, meat to their guests, but, through haste or laziness, eating none themselves; or, like tailors, make clothes for other men to wear ; so they, never assaying their own points how they fit or may suit with their own spirits, but think it is their duty to teach, and other men's duty to do." So far the author.

CHAPTER V.

SOME GENERAL HELPS TO A HEAVENLY LIFE.

Sect. 1. Having thus showed thee the blocks in thy way, and told thee what hinderances will resist thee in the work, I shall now lay thee down some positive helps, and conclude with a directory to the main duty itself. But first, I expect that thou resolve against

* AVho died, as I understand since, about the hour that I was preaching these words, or very near.

the forementioned inipedinionts, that thou road them seriously, and avoid them faithfully, or else thy labour will he all in vain ; thou dost but go about to reconcile light and darkness, Christ and Bcjlial, and to conjoin heaven and hell in thy spirit : thou mayst sooner bring down lieaven to earth, than do this. I must tell thee, also, that I expect thy promise, faithfully to set upon the helps which I shall prescribe thee, and that the reading of them will not bring heaven into thy heart, but in their constant practice the Spirit will do it. It were better for thee I had never written them, and thou hadst never seen this book, nor read them, if thou do not buckle thyself to the duty.

As thou valuest, then, the delights of these foretastes of heaven, make conscience of performing these following duties :

Sect. II. 1. Know heaven to be the only treasure, and labour to know also what a treasure it is. Be convinced once that thou hast no other happiness, and then be convinced what happiness is there. If thou do not soundly believe it to be the chiefest good, thou wilt never set thy heart upon it; and this conviction must sink into thy affections ; for if it be only a notion, it will have little operation. And sure we have reason enough to be easily convinced of this, as you may see in what hath been spoken already. Read over the description and nature of this rest, in the beginning of this book, and the reasons against thy resting below, in chapter first, and conclude that this is the only happiness. As long as your judgments do undervalue it, your affections must needs be cold towards it. If your judgments do mistake blear-eyed Leah for beautiful Rachel, so will your affections also misttike them. If Eve do once suppose she sees more worth in the forbidden fruit than in the love and fruition of God, no wonder if it have more of her heart than God. If your judgments once prefer the delights of the flesh before the delights in the presence of God, it is impossible, then, your hearts should be in heaven. As it is the ignorance of the emptiness of things below that makes men so overvalue them ; so it is ignorance of the high delights above, which is the cause that men so little mind them. If you see a purse of gold, and believe it to be but stones or counters, it will not entice your affections to it. It is not a thing's excellency in itself, but it is excellency known that provokes desire. If an ignorant man see a book containing the secrets of arts or sciences, yet he values it no more than a common piece, because he knows not what is in it : but he that knows it, doth highly value it ; his very mind it set upon it, he can pore upon it day and night, he can forbear his meat, and drink, and sleep, to road it. As the Jews inquiredafter Bilias; when Christ tells them that verily Elias is already come, and ye knew him not, but did unto him whatsoever ye listed, Matt. xvii. 11, 12; so men inquire after happiness and delight, when it is offered to them in the promise of rest, and they know it not, but trample it under foot: and as the Jews killed the Messiah, while they waited for the Messiah, and that because they did not know him, John i. 10; Acts xiii. 27; for had they known him, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory, I Cor.

ii. 8; so doth the world cry out for rest, and busily seek for delight and happiness, even while they are neglecting and destroying their rest and happiness, and this because they thoroughly know it not; for did they know thoroughly what it is, they could not so slight the everlasting treasure.

Sect. III. 2. Labour as to know heaven to be the only happiness, so also to be thy happiness. Though the knowledge of excellency and suitableness may stir up that love which worketh by desire; yet there must be the knowledge of our interest or propriety, to the setting a-work of our love of complacency. We may confess heaven to be the best condition, though we despair of enjoying it; and we may desire and seek it, if we see the obtainment to be but probable and hopeful : but we can never delightfully rejoice in it, till we are somewhat persuaded of our title to it. What comfort is it to a man that is naked, to see the rich attire of others; or, to a man that hath not a bit to put in his mouth, to see a feast which he must not taste of? What delight hath a man that hath not a house to put his head in, to see the sumptuous buildings of others ? Would not all this rather increase his anguish, and make him more sensible of his own misery ? So, for a man to know the excellences of heaven, and not to know whether he shall ever enjoy them, may well raise desire, and provoke to seek it, but it will raise but little joy and content. Who will set his heart on another man's possessions ? If your house, your goods, your cattle, your children, were not your own, you would less mind them, and delight less in them. O, therefore. Christians, rest not till you can call this rest your own ; sit not down without assurance ; get alone, and question with thyself; bring thy heart to the bar of trial; force it to answer the interrogatories put to it; set the conditions of the gospel and qualifications of the saints on one side, and thy performance of those conditions and the qualifications of thy soul on the other side, and then judge how near they resemble. Thou hast the same word before thee, to judge thyself by now, by which thou must be judged at the great day ; thou art there before told the questions that must then be put to thee. Put these questions now to thyself. Thou mayst there read the very articles upon which thou shalt be tried. Why, try thyself by those articles now. Thou mayst there know beforehand, on what terms men shall be then acquitted and condemned ; why, try now whether thou art possessed of that which will acquit thee, or whether thou be upon the same terms with those that must be condemned, and accordingly acquit or condemn thyself. Yet, be sure thou judge by a true touchstone, and mistake not the Scripture description of a saint, that thou neither acquit nor condemn thyself upon mistakes: for, as groundless hopes do tend to confusion, and are the greatest cause of most men's damnation; so groundless doubtings do tend to discomforts, and are the great cause of the disquieting of the saints. Therefore lay thy grounds of trial safely and advisedly: proceed in the work deliberately and methodically: follow it to an issue resolutely and industriously : suffer not thy heart to give thee the slip, and get

away before a judgment, Lut make it stay to hear its sentence : if once, or twice, or thrice, will not do it, nor a few days of hearing bring it to issue, follow it on with unweivried diligence, and give not over till the work be done, and till thou canst say knowingly oil' or on, either thou art, or art not, a member of Christ; either that thou hast, or that thou hast not yet, title to this rest. Be sure thou rest not in wilful uncertainties. If thou canst not despatch the work well thyself, get the help of those that are skilful. Go to thy minister, if he be a man of experience^ or go to some able, experienced friend ; open thy case faithfully, and wish them to deal plainly ; and thus continue till thou hast got assurance : not but that some doubtings may still remain ; but yet thou mayst have so much assurance as to master them, that they may not much interrupt thy peace. If men did know heaven to be their own inheritance, we should less need to persuade their thoughts unto it, or to press them to set their delight in it. Oh ! if men did truly know that God is their own Father, and Christ their own Redeemer and Head, and that those are their own everlasting habitations, and that there it is that they must abide and be happy for ever; how could they choose but be ravished with the forethoughts thereof ! If a Christian could but look upon sun, and moon, and stars, and reckon all his own in Christ, and say. These are the portion that my Husband doth bestow; these are the blessings that my Lord hath procured me, and things incomparably greater than these; •what holy raptures would his spirit feel ! The more do they sin against their own comforts, as well as against the grace of the gospel, who are wilful niaintainers of their own doubtings, and plead for their unbelief, and cherish distrustful thoughts of God, and scandalous, injurious thoughts of their Redeemer: who represent the covenant, as if it were of works and not of grace ; and represent Christ as an enemy rather than as a Saviour, as if he were glad of advantages against them, and were willing that they should keep off from him, and die in their unbelief; when he hath called them so oft, and invited them so kindly, and borne the hell that they should bear. Ah ! wretches that we are, that be keeping up jealousies of the love of our Lord, when we should be rejoicing and bathing our souls in his love ; that can question that love which hath been so fully evidenced; and doubt still whether he that hath stooped so low, and suffered so much, and taken up a nature and office on purpose, be yet willing to be theirs, who are willing (o be his; as if any man could choose Christ before Christ hath chosen him, or any man could desire to have Christ more than Christ desires to have him, or any man were more willing to be happy than Christ is to make him happy. Fie upon these injurious, if not blasphemous thoughts ! If ever thou have harboured such thoughts in thy breast, or if ever thou have uttered such words with thy tongue, spit out that venom, vomit out that rancour, cast them from thee, and take heed how thou ever entertainest them more. God hath written the names of his people in heaven, as you use to write your names in your own books, or upon your goods^ or set

your marks on your own sheep : and shall we be attempting to raze them out, and to write our names on the doors of hell ? But blessed be our God, whose foundation is sure, 2 Tim. ii. 19, and who keep-eth us by his mighty power through faith unto salvation, 1 Pet. i. 5. Well, then, this is my second advice to thee, that thou follow on the work of self-examination, till thou hast got assurance that this rest is thy own; and this will draw thy heart unto it, and feed thy spirits with fresh delights, which else will be but tormented so much the more^^^to think that there is such rest for others, but none for thee.

Sect. IV. 3. Another help to sweeten thy soul with the foretastes of rest, is this; Labour to apprehend how near it is, think seriously of its speedy approach. That which we think is near at hand, we are more sensible of than that which we behold at a distance. When we hear of war or famine in another country, it troubleth us not so much ; or if we hear it prophesied of a long time hence : so if we hear of plenty a great way off, or of a golden age that shall fall out who knows when, this never rejoiceth us. But if judgments or mercies begin to draw near, then they affect us. If we were sure we should see the golden age, then it would take with us. When the plague is in a town but twenty miles off, we do not fear it; nor much, perhaps, if it be in another street; but if it once come to the next door, or if it seize on one in our own family, then we begin to think on it more feelingly. It is so with mercies as well as judgments. When they are far off, we talk of them as marvels; but when they draw close to us, we rejoice in them as truths. This makes men think on heaven so insensibly, because they conceit it at too great a distance. They look on it as twenty, or thirty, or forty years off; and this is it that dulls their sense. As wick'ed men are fearless and senseless of judgment, because the sentence is not speedily executed, Eccles. viii. 11 ; so are the godly deceived of their comforts, by supposing them farther off than they are. This is the danger of putting the day of death far from us, when men will promise themselves longer time in the world than God hath promised them, and judge of the length of their lives by the probabilities they gather from their age, their health, their constitution and temperature : this makes them look at heaven as a great way off. If the rich fool in the gospel had not expected to have lived many years, he would sure have thought more of providing for eternity, and less of his present store and possessions, Luke xii. 17—20 : and if we did not think of staying many years from heaven, we should think on it with far more piercing thoughts. This expectation of long life, doth both the wicked and the godly a great deal of wrong. How much better were it to receive the sentence of death in ourselves, and to look on eternity as near at hand ! 2 Cor. i. 8—10. Surely, reader, thou standest at the door; and hundreds of diseases are ready waiting to open the door and let thee in. Are not the thirty or forty years of thy life that are past quickly gone ? Are they not a very little time when thou lookest back on them ; and will not all the rest be

CiiAi'. V. THE SAINTS' FA'EHLASTING REST. .039

shortly so too t Do not Jays and nights conio very thick ? Dost thou not feci that buililing of flesh to shako, and perceive thy house of clay to totter ? Look on thy glass, see how it runs; look on thy watch, how fast it getteth. What a short moment is between us and our rest; what a step is it from hence to everlastingness ! While I am thinking and writing of it, it hasteth near, and I am even entering into it before I am aware. While thou art reading this it posteth on, and thy life will be gone as a tale that is told. Mayst thou not easily foresee thy dying time, and look upon thyself as ready to depart ? It is liut a few days till thy friends shall lay thee in the grave, and others do the like for them. If you verily believed you should die to-morrow, how seriously would you think of heaven to-night! The condemned prisoner knew before that he must die, and yet he was then as jovial as any ; but when he hears the sentence, and knows he hath not a week to live, then how it sinks his heart within him ! so that the true apprehensions of the nearness of eternity doth make men's thoughts of it be quick and piercing, and put life into their fears and sorrows, if they are unfitted, and into their desires and joys, if they have assurance of its glory. When the witch's Samuel had told Saul, By to-morrow this time thou shalt be with me, 1 Sam. xxviii. 19, this quickly worked to his very heart, and laid him down as dead on the earth. And if Christ should say to a believing soul, By to-morrow this time thou shalt be with me, this would be a working word indeed, and would bring liini in spirit to heaven before. As Melancthon was wont to say of his uncertain station, because of the persecution of his enemies, E(/o jam sum hie, Dei benejicio, 40 annos, et niin-qjinm jjotui dieere ant certus es'ie, me per nnam septimaiiam viau-sin-itm esse ; i. e. I have now been here these forty years, and yet could never say, or be sure, that I shall tarry here for one week : so may we all say of our abode on earth. As long as thou hast continued out of heaven, thou canst not say thou shalt be out of it one week longer. Do but suppose that you are still entering in it, and you shall find it will much help you more seriously to mind it. Sect. V. 4. Another help to this heavenly life, is, to be much in serious discoursing of it, especially with those that can speak from their hearts, and are seasoned themselves with a heavenly nature. It is pity, saith Mr. Bolton, that Christians should ever meet together without some talk of their meeting in heaven, or the way to it, before they part; it is pity so much precious time is spent among Christians in vain discourses, foolish janglings, and useless disputes, and not a sober word of heaven among them. Methinks we should meet together of purpose to warm our spirits with discoursing of our rest. To hear a minister, or other private Christian, set forth that blessed, glorious state, with power and life, from the promises of the gospel, methinks should make us say, as the two disciples, " Did not our hearts burn within us while he was opening to us the Scripture," Luke xxiv. 32, while he was opening to us the windows of heaven .'' If a Felix, or wicked wretch, will tremble, when he hears his judgment powcifully denounced, Acts

xxiv. 2.5 ; why should not the believing soul he revived when he hears his eternal rest revealed ? Get then together, fellow Christians, and talk of the affairs of your country and kingdom, and comfort one another with such words, 1 Thess. iv, 18. If worldlings get together, they will he talking of the world; when wantons are together, they will he talking of their lusts, and wicked men can be delighted in talking of wickedness ; and should not Christians, then, delight themselves in talking of Christ, and the heirs of heaven in talking of their inheritance ? This may make our hearts revive within us, as it did Jacob's to hear the message that called him to Goshen, and to see the chariots that should bring him to Joseph. Oh that we were furnished with skill and resolution to turn the stream of men's common discourse to these more sublime and precious things ; and when men begin to talk of things unprofitable, that we could tell how to put in a word for heaven, and say, as Peter, of his bodily food, " Not so, for I eat not that which is .common and unclean," Acts x. 14, this is nothing to my eternal rest. Oh the good that we might both do and receive by this course ! If it had not been needful to deter us from unfruitful conference, Christ would not have talked of giving an account of every idle word at judgment. Matt. xii. 36. Say then, as David, when you are in conference, " Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chiefest mirth," Psal. cxxxvii. 5, 6; and then you shall find the truth of that, " A wholesome tongue is a tree of life," Prov. xv. 4.

Sect. VI. 5. Another help to this heavenly life is this; Make it thy business in every duty to v/ind up thy affections nearer heaven. A man's attainments and receivings from God are answerable to his own desires and ends; that which he sincerely seeks he finds : God's end in the institution of his ordinances was, that they be as so many stepping-stones to our rest, and as the stairs by which, in subordination to Christ, we may daily ascend unto it in our affections. Let this be thy end in using them, as it was God's end in ordaining them, and doubtless they will not be unsuccessful. Though men be personally far asunder, yet they may even by letters have a great deal of intercourse. How have men been rejoiced by a few lines from a friend, though they could not see him face to face ! What gladness have we when we do but read the expressions of his love ; or if we read of our friend's prosperity and welfare ! Many a one that never saw the fight, hath triumphed and shouted, made bonfires, and rung bells, when they have but heard and read of the victory : and may not we have intercourse with God in his ordinances, though our persons be yet so far remote ? May not our spirits rejoice in the reading of those lines which contain our legacy and charter for heaven ? With what gladness may we read the expressions of love, and hear of the state of our celestial country ! With what triumphant shoutings may we applaud our inheritance, though yet we have not the happiness to behold it ! Men that are separated by sea and land, can yet, by the mere intercourse of letters, carry on both great and gainful trades, even to

the value of their whole estate ; and may not a Christian, in the wise iniprovement of duties, drive ou this happy trade for rest? Come not, therefore, with any lower ends to duties; renounce formality, customariness, and applause. When thou kneclest down in secret or public prayer, let it be in hope to get thy heart nearer God before thou risest off thy knees. AN hen thou openest thy Bible, or other books, let it be with this hope, to meet with some passage of Divine truth, and some such blessings of the Spirit with it, as may raise thine affections nearer heaven, and give thee a fuller taste thereof. \Mien thou art setting thy foot out of thy door, to go to the public orcUnance and worship, say, I hope to meet with somewhat from God, that may raise my affections before I return ; I hope the Spirit will give me the meeting, and sweeten my heart with those celestial delights ; I hope that Christ will appear to me in the way, shine about me with light from heaven, and let me hear his instructing and reviving voice, and cause the scales to fall from mine eyes, that I may see more of that glory than ever I yet saw; I hope, before I return to my house, my Lord will take my heart in hand, and bring it within the view of rest, and set it before his Father's presence, that I may return, as the shepherds, from the heavenly vision, glorifying and praising God for all the things I have heard and seen, Luke ii. 20, and say, as those that beheld his miracles, " We have seen strange things to-day," Luke V. 2G. Remember also to pray for thy teacher, that God would put some Divine message into his mouth, which may leave a heavenly relish on thy spirit.

If these were our ends, and this our course, when w^e set to duty, we should not be so strange as we are to heaven.

\\ hen the Indians first saw the use of letters by our English, they thought there was sure some spirit in them, that men should converse together by a paper. If Christians would take this course in their duties, they might come to such a holy fellowship with God, and see so much of the mysteries of the kingdom, that it would make the standers-by admire what is in those lines, what is in that sermon, what is in this praying, that fills his heart so full of joy, and that so transports him above himself. Certainly, God would not fail us in our duties, if we did not fail ourselves, and then experience would make them sweeter to us.

Sect. VII. 6. Another help is this. Make an advantage of every object thou seest, and of every passage of Divine providence, and of every thing that befalls in thy labour and calling, to mind thy soul of its approaching rest. As all providences and creatures are means to our rest, so do they point us to that as their end. Every creature hath the name of God, and of our final rest, written upon it, which a considerate believer may as truly discern, as he can read upon a post or hand, in a cross-way, the name of the town or city which it points to. This spiritual use of creatures and providences is God's great end in bestowing them on man; and he that overlooks this end must needs rob God of his chiefest praise, and deny him the greatest part of his thanks. The relation that our present

mercies have to our great eternal mercies, is the very quintessence and spirits of all these mercies; therefore do they lose the very spirits of all their mercies, and take nothing hut the husks and bran, who do overlook this relation, and draw not forth the sweetness of it in their contemplations. God's sweetest dealings with us at the present would not be half so sweet as they are if they did not intimate some further sweetness. As ourselves have a fleshly and a spiritual substance, so have our mercies a fleshly and a spiritual use, and are fitted to the nourishing of both our parts. He that receives the carnal part, and no more, may have his body comforted by them, but not his soul. It is not all one to receive sixpence merely as sixpence, and to receive it in earnest of a thousand pounds: though the sum be the same, yet surely the relation makes a wide difference. Thou takest but the bare earnest, and overlookest the main sum, when thou receivest thy mercies, and forgettest thy crown. Oh, therefore, that Christians were skilled in this art! You can open your Bibles, and read there of God and of glory ; O learn to open the creatures, and to open the several passages of providence, to read of God and glory there. Certainly, by such a skilful, industrious improvement, we might have a fuller taste of Christ and heaven in every bit of bread that we eat, and in every draught of beer we drink, than most men have in the use of the sacrament. If thou prosper in the world, and thy labour succeed, let it make thee more sensible of thy perpetual prosperity: if thou be weary of thy labours, let it make thy thoughts of rest more sweet: if things go cross and hard with thee in the world, let it make thee the more earnestly desire that day when all thy sorrows and sufferings shall cease. Is thy body refreshed with food or sleep ? remember the unconceivable refreshings with Christ. Dost thou hear any news that makes thee glad ? remember what glad tidings it will be to hear the sound of the trump of God, and the absolving sentence of Christ, our Judge. Art thou delighting thyself in the society of the saints ? remember the everlasting-amiable fraternity thou shalt have with perfected saints in rest. Is God communicating himself to thy spirit ? why, remember that time of thy highest advancement, when thy joy shall be full, as thy communion is full. Dost thou hear the raging noise of the wicked, and the disorders of the vulgar, and the confusions of the world, like the noise in a crowd, or the roaring of the waters? why think of the blessed agreement in heaven, and the melodious harmony in that choir of God. Dost thou hear or feel the tempest of wars, or see any cloud of blood arising ? remember the day when thou shalt be housed with Christ, where there is nothing but calmness and amiable union, and where we shall solace ourselves in perfect peace, under the wings of the Prince of peace for ever. Thus you may see, what advantages to a heavenly life every condition and creature doth afford us, if we had but hearts to apprehend and improve them. As it is said of the Turks, that they will make bridges of the dead bodies of their men, to pass over the trenches or ditches in their way; so might Christians of the very

ruins and calamities of the times, and of every dead body or misery that tliey see, make a bridge for th<* passage of their thoughts to their rest. And as they have taught tlieir pigeons, which they call carriers, in divers places, to bear letters of intercourse from friend to friend, at very great distance, so might a wise, industrious Christian get his thoughts carried into heaven, and receive, as it were, returns from thence again by creatures of a slower wing than doves, by the assistance of the Spirit, the Dove of God. This is the right Dedalian flight; and thus we may take from each bird a feather, and nuike us wings, and fly to Christ.

Sect. VIII, 7. Another singular help is this; He much in that angelical work of praise. As the most heavenly spirits will have the most heavenly employment, so the more heavenly the employment, the more will it make the spirit heavenly. Though the heart be the fountain of all our actions, and the actions will be usually of the quality of the heart, yet do those actions, by a kind of reflection, work much on the heart from whence they spring : the like also may be said of our speeches. So that the work of praising God, being the most heavenly work, is likely to raise us to the most heavenly temper. This is the work of those saints r.nd angels, and this will be our everlasting work. If we were more taken up in this employment now, w^c should be liker to what we shall be then. When Aristotle was asked what he thought of music, he answers, Jovem vequc canere, nequc clthdnun piilsare; That Jupiter did never sing, nor play on the harp ; thinking it an unprofitable art to men, which was no more delightful to God. Ikit Christians may better argue from the like ground, that singing of praise is a most profitable duty, because it is so delightful, as it were, to God himself, that he hath made it his people's eternal work ; for they shall sing the song of Moses, and the song of the Lamb. As desire, and faith, and hope, are of shorter continuance than love and joy, so also preaching, and prayer, and sacraments, and all means for confirmation, and expression of faith and hope, shall cease, when our thanks, and praise, and triumphant expressions of love and joy, shall abide for ever. The liveliest emblem of heaven that I know upon earth, is, when the people of God, in the deep sense of his excellency and bounty, from hearts abounding with love and joy, do join together, both in heart and voice, in the cheerful and melodious singing of his praises. Those that deny the lawful use of singing the Scripture psalms in our times, do disclose their unhea-venly, unexperienced hearts, I think, as well as their ignorant understandings. Had they felt the heavenly delights that many of their brethren in such duties have felt, I think they would have been of another mind. And whereas they are wont to question whether such delights be genuine, or any better than carnal or delusive ; surely, the very relish of God and heaven that is in them, the example of the saints in Scripture, whose spirits have been raised by the same duty, and the command of Scripture for the use of this means, one would think, should quickly decide the controversy. And a man may as truly say of these delights, as they use

to say of the testimony of the Spirit, that they witness themselves to be of God, and bring the evidence of their heavenly parentage along with them. And whereas they allow only extemporate psalms, immediately dictated to them by the Spirit, when I am convinced that the gift of extemporate singing is so common to the church, that any man who is spiritually merry can use it, James v. 13, and when I am convinced that the use of Scripture psalms is abolished.or prohibited, then I shall more regard their judgment. Certainly, as large as mine acquaintance hath been with men of this spirit, I never yet heard any of them sing a psalm extempore, that was better than David's; yea, or that was tolerable to a judicious hearer, and not rather a shame to himself and his opinion. But sweet experience will be a powerful argument, and will teach the sincere Christian to hold fast his exercise of this soul-raising duty.

Little do we know how we wrong ourselves, by shutting out of our prayers the praises of God, or allowing them so narrow a room as we usually do, while we are copious enough in our confessions and petitions. Reader, I entreat thee, remember this : Let praises have a larger room in thy duties; keep ready at hand matter to feed thy praise, as well as matter for confession and petition. To this end, study the excellences and goodness of the Lord, as frequently as thy own necessities and vileness; study the mercies which thou hast received, and which are promised, both their own proper worth and their aggravating circumstances, as often as thou studiest the sins thou hast committed. O, let God's praise be much in your mouths, for in the mouths of the upright his praise is comely, Psal, xxxiii. 1. Seven times a day did David praise him, Psal. cxix. 164. Yea, his praise was continually of him, Psal. Ixxi. 6. As he that ofFereth praise glorifieth God, Psal. 1. 23, so doth he most rejoice and glad his own soul, Psal. xcviii. 4. Offer, therefore, the sacrifice of praise continually, Heb. xiii. 15. In the midst of the church, let us sing his praise, Heb. ii. 12. Praise our God, for he is good; sing praises unto his name, for it is pleasant, Psal. cxxxv. 3; cxlvii. I. Yea, let us rejoice and triumph in his praise, Psal. cvi. 47.

Do you think that David had not a most heavenly spirit, who was so much employed in this heavenly work ? Doth it not sometimes very much raise your hearts, when you do but seriously read that divine song of Moses, Deut. xxxii. and those heavenly iterated praises of David, having almost nothing sometimes but praise in his mouth ? How much more would it raise and refresh us, to be skilled and accustomed in the work ourselves ! I confess, to a man of a languishing body, where the heart doth faint, and the spirits are feeble, the cheerful praising of God is more difficult; because the body is the soul's instrument, and when it lies unstringed, or untuned, the music is likely to be accordingly but dull. Yet a spiritual cheerfulness there may be within, and the heart may praise, if not the voice. But where the body is strong, the spirits lively, and the heart cheerful, and the voice at command, what advantage have such for this heavenly work ! With what alacrity and

vivacity may they sing forth praises ! Oh the madness of healthful youth, that lay out this vigour of hody and mind upon vain delights and fleshly lusts, which is so fit for the noblest work of man ! And oh the sinful folly of many of the saints, who drench their spirits in continual sadness, and waste their days in complaints and groans, and fill their bodies with wasting diseases, and so make themselves both in body and mind unfit for this sweet and heavenly work ! That when they should join with the people of God in his praises, and delight their souls in singing to his name, they are questioning their worthiness, and studying their miseries, or raising scruples about the lawfulness of the duty, and so rob God of his praise, and themselves of their solace. But the greatest destroyer of our comfort in this duty, is our sticking in the carnal delight thereof, and taking up in the tune and melody, and suffering the heart to be all the while idle, which must perform the chiefest part of the work, and which should make use of the melody, for its reviving and exhilarating.

Sect. IX, 8. If thou wouldst have thy heart in heaven, keep thy soul still possessed with true believing thoughts of the exceeding, infinite love of God. Love is the attractive of love. No man's heart will be set upon him that hates him, were he never so excellent, nor much upon him that doth not much love him. There are few so vile, but will love those that love them, be they never so mean. No doubt it is the death of our heavenly life, to have hard and doubtful thoughts of God ; to conceive of him as a hater of the creature, (except only of obstinate rebels,) and as one that had rather damn us than save us, and that is glad of an opportunity to do us a mischief, or at least hath no great good-will to us : this is to put the blessed God into the similitude of Satan. And who, then, can set his heart and love upon him ? When in our vile unbelief and ignorance we have drawn the most ugly picture of God in our imaginations, then we complain that we cannot love him, and delight in him. This is the case of many thousand Christians. Alas ! that we should thus belie and blaspheme God, and blast our own joys, and depress our spirits! Love is the very essence of God. The Scripture tells us, that " God is love;" it telleth us, that fury dwelleth not in him ; that he delighteth not in the death of him that dieth, but rather that he repent and live, 1 John iv. IG; Isa. xxvii. 4; Ezek. xviii. 32; xxxiii. 11. Much more, that he testifieth his love to his chosen ; and his full resolution cfTect-ually to save them. Oh, if we could always think of God but as we do of a friend; as of one that doth unfeignedly love us, even more than we do ourselves; whose very heart is set upon us to do us good, and hath therefore provided us an everlasting dwelling with himself; it would not then be so hard to have our heart still with him ! Where we love most heartily, we shall think most sweetly, and most freely; and nothing will quicken our love more than the belief of his love to us. Get therefore a truer conceit of the loving nature of God, and lay up all the experiences and discoveries of his love to thee; and then see if it will not further thy 2 N

heavenly-niindedness. I fear, most Christians think higher of the love of a hearty friend, than of the love of God: and then what wonder if they love their friends better than God, and trust them more confidently than God, and had rather live with them than with God, when they take them for better and trustier friends than God, and of more anerciful and compassionate nature !

Sect. X. 9. Another thing I would advise you to, is this; Be a careful observer of the drawings of the Spirit, and fearful of quenching its motions, of resisting its workings ; if ever thy soul get above the earth, and get acquainted with this living in heaven, the Spirit of God must be to thee as the chariot to Elijah; yea, the very living principle by which thou must move and ascend. O, then, grieve not thy guide, quench not thy life, Eph. iv. 30; 1 Thess. v, 19, knock not off thy chariot-wheels ! If thou do, no wonder if thy soul be at a loss, and all stand still, or fall to the earth. You little think how much the life of all your graces, and the happiness of your souls, doth depend upon your ready and cordial obedience to the Spirit. When the Spirit urgeth thee to secret prayer, and thou refusest obedience ; when he forbids thee thy known transgressions, and yet thou wilt go on ; when he telleth thee which is the way, and which not, and thou wilt not regard; no wonder if heaven and thy soul be strange. If thou wilt not follow the Spirit while it would draw thee to Christ, and to thy duty, how should it lead thee to heaven, and bring thy heart into the presence of God ? Oh, what supernatural help, what bold access, shall that soul find in its approaches to the Almighty, that is accustomed to a constant obeying of the Spirit! And how backward, how dull, and strange, and ashamed will he be to these addresses, who hath long used to break away from the Spirit that v^oukl have guided him ! Even as stiff and unfit will they be for this spiritual motion, as a dead man to a natural. I beseech thee. Christian reader, learn well this lesson, and try this course ; let not the motions of thy body only, but also the very thoughts of thy heart, be at the Spirit's beck. Dost thou not feel sometimes a strong impulsion to retire from the w'orld, and draw near to God ? O do not thou disobey, but take the offer, and hoist up sail while thou mayst have this blessed gale. When this wind blows strongest, thou goest fastest, either backward or forward. The more of this Spirit we resist, the deeper will it wound; and the more we obey, the speedier is our pace ; as he goes heaviest that hath the wind in his face, and he easiest that hath it in his back.

10. Lastly, I advise as a further help to this heavenly work, that thou neglect not the due care for the health of thy body, and for the maintaining a vigorous cheerfulness in thy spirits ; nor yet over-pamper and please thy flesh : learn how to carry thyself with prudence to thy body, it is a useful servant if thou give it its due, and but its due : it is a most devouring tyrant, if thou give it the mastery, or suffer it to have what it unreasonably desireth. And it is as a bkuited knife, as a horse that is lame, as thy ox that is famished, if thou injuriously deny it what is necessary to its sup-

port. When we consider how frequently men offend on hotli extremes, and how few use their hodies aright, we cannot wonder if they he much hindered in their heavenly conversing. Most men are very .slaveys to their sensitive appetite, and can scarce deny any thing to the llesh, which they can give it on easier rates, without nmch shame, or loss, or grief. The flesh thus used is as unfit to serve you as a wild colt to ride on. When such men should converse in heaven, the ilesh will carry them out to an ale-house, or to their sports, to their profits, or credit, or vain company ; to wanton practices, or sights, or speeches, or thoughts : it will thrust a whore, or a pair of cards, or a good hargain, into their minds instead of God. Look to this specially, you that are young, and healthful, and lusty : as you love your souls, remend^er that in Rom. xiii. 14, which converted Austin, Make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil its desires ; and that in Rom. viii. 4—8, 12—14. Some few others do much hinder their heavenly joy, hy over-rigorous denying the hody its necessaries, and so making it unahle to serve them. But the most, by surfeiting and excess, do overthrow and disable it. You love to have your knife keen, and every instrument you use in order : when your horse goes lustily, how cheerfully do you travel ! As much need hath the soul of a sound and cheerful body. If they who abuse their bodies, and neglect their health, did wrong the flesh only, the matter were small, but they wrong the soul also : as he that spoils the house, doth wrong the inhabitant. When the body is sick, and the spirits do languish, how heavily move we in tlicse meditations and joys ! Yet where God denieth this mercy, we may the better bear it, because he oft occasioneth our benefit by the denial.

CHAPTER VI.

CONTAINING THE DESCRIPTION OF THE GREAT DUTY OF HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION.

Sect. I. Though I hope what is already spoken be not unuseful, and that it will not by the reader be cast aside ; yet I must tell you, tliat the main thing intended is yet behind, and that which I aimed at when I set upon this work. I have observed the maxim, that my principal end be last in execution, though it was first in my intention. All that I have said is but for the preparation to this : the doctrinal part is but to instruct you for this ; the rest of the uses are but introductions to this ; the motives I have laid down are but to make you willing for this ; the hinderances mentioned were but so many blocks in the way to this ; the general helps which I last delivered are but the necessary attendants of this : so that, reader, if thou neglect this that follows, thou dost frustrate 2 N 2

the main end of my design, and makest me lose (as to thee) the chief of my labour. I once more entreat thee, therefore, as thou art a man that makest conscience of a revealed duty, and that darest not wilfully resist the Spirit; as thou valucst the high delights of a saint, and the soul-ravishing exercise of heavenly contemplation ; as all my former moving considerations seem reasonable to thee, and as thou art faithful to the peace and prosperity of thine own soul; that thou diligently study these directions following, and that thou speedily and faithfully put them into practice : practice is the end of all sound doctrine, and all right faith doth end in duty. I pray thee, therefore, resolve before thou readost any further, and promise here, as before the Lord, that if the following advice be wholesome to thy soul, thou wilt conscionably follow it, and seriously set thyself to the work ; and that no laziness of spirit shall take thee off, nor the lesser business interrupt thy course, but that thou wilt approve thyself a doer of this word, and not an idle hearer only. Is this thy promise; and wilt thou stand to it ? Resolve, man ; and then I shall be encouraged to give thee my advice : if I spread not before thee a delicious feast, if I set thee not upon as gainful a trade, and put not into thy hand as delightful an employment, as ever thou dealtest with in all thy life, then cast it away, and tell me I have deceived thee ; only try it thoroughly, and then judge : I say again, if in the faithful following of this prescribed course, thou dost not find an increase of all thy graces, and dost not grow beyond the stature of common Christians, and art not made more serviceable in thy place, and more precious in the eyes of all that are discerning ; if thy soul enjoy not more fellowship with God, and thy life be not fuller of pleasure and solace, and thou have not comfort readier by thee at a dying hour, and when thou hast greatest need; then throw these directions back in my face, and exclaim against me as a deceiver for ever : except God should leave thee uncomfortable for a little season, for the more glorious manifestation of his attributes and thy integrity, and single thee out as he did Job, for an example and mirror of constancy and patience, which would be but a preparative for thy fuller comfort. Certainly, God will not forsake this his own ordinance thus conscionably performed, but will be found of those that thus diligently seek him. God hath, as it were, appointed to meet thee in this way ; do not thou fail to give him the meeting, and thou shalt find by experience that he will not fail.

The duty which I press upon thee so earnestly, I shall now describe and open to thee ; for I suppose, by this time, thou art ready to inquire, What is this so highly extolled work ? Why, it is the set and solemn acting of all the powers of the soul upon this inost perfect object, rest, by meditation.

^ . .. Sect. II. I will a little more fully explain the

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meanmg oi this description, that so the duty may lie plain before thee. 1. The general title that I give this duty is meditation ; not as it is precisely distinguished from thought, consideration, and contemplation; but as it is taken in the larger and

usual sense fur thinking on tilings spiritual, and so comprehending consideration and contemplation.

That meditation is a duty of God's ordaining, not only in his written law, hut also in nature itself, I never met with a man that would deny; hut that it is a duty constantly and conscionably practised even by the godly, so far as my acquaintance extends, I must, with sorrow, deny it. It is in word confessed to be a duty by all, but by the constant neglect denied by most; and, I know not by what fatal customary security, it comes to pass that men that are very tender-conscienced towards most other duties, yet do as easily overslip this, as if they knew it not to be a duty at all. They that are presently troubled in mind, if they omit but a sermon, a fast, a prayer in public or private, yet were never troubled that they have omitted meditation, perhaps all their life-time to this very day ; though it be that duty by which all other duties are improved, and by which the soul digesteth truths, and draweth forth their strength for its nourishment and refreshing. Certainly, I think that as a man is but half an hour in chewing and taking into his stomach that meat which he must have seven or eight hours at least to digest; so a man may take into his understanding and memory more truth in one hour than he is able well to digest in many. A man may eat too much, but he cannot digest too well. Therefore, God commanded Joshua, that the book of the law depart not out of his mouth, but that he meditate therein day and night; that he may observe to do according to that which is written therein. Josh. i. 8. As digestion is the turning of the raw food into chyle and blood, and spirits and flesh, so meditation, rightly managed, turneth the truths received and remembered, into warm affection, raised resolution, and holy and upright conversation. Therefore, what good those men are like to get by sermons or providences, who are unacquainted with, and unaccustomed to, this work of meditation, you may easily judge. And why so nmch preaching is lost among us, and professors can run from sermon to sermon, and are never weary of hearing or reading, and yet have such languishing, starved souls, I know no truer or greater cause than their ignorance and unconscionable neglect of meditation. If a man have the lientery, that his meat passes from him as he took it in; or, if he vomits it up as fast he eats it; ^vhat strength and vigour of body and senses is this man like to have ? Indeed, he may well eat more than a sounder man, and the small abode that it makes in the stomach may refresh it at the present, and help to draw out a lingering, languishing, uncomfortable, unprofitable life; and so do our hearers that have this disease ; perhaps they hear more than otherwise they needed, and the clear discovery and lively delivery of the truth of God, may warm and refresh them a little, while they are hearing, and perhaps an hour or two after; and, it may be, linger out their grace in a languishing, uncomfortable, unprofitable life : but if they did hear one hour, and meditate seven ; if they did as constantly digest their sermons as they hear them, and not take in one sermon before the former is well concocted, they would find

another kind of benefit by sermons, than the ordinary sort of the forwardest Christians do. I know many carnal persons do make this an argument against frequent preaching and hearing, who do it merely from a loathing of the word, and know far less how to meditate than they know how understandingly to hear ; only they pretend meditation against often hearing, because, that being a duty of the mind, you cannot so easily discern their omission of it. These are sick of the anorexia and apepsia ; they have neither appetite nor digestion. The other of the boulimia; they have appetite, but no digestion.

Sect. III. But because meditation is a general word, and it is not all meditation that I here intend, I shall therefore lay thee down the difference whereby this meditation that I am urging thee to, is distinguished from all other kinds; and the difference is taken from the act, and from the object of it.

1. From the act, which I call the set and solemn acting of all the powers of the soid.

1. I call it the acting of them ; for it is action that we are directing you in now, and not relations or dispositions; yet these also are necessarily presupposed. It must be a soul that is qualified for the work, by the supernatural renewing grace of the Spirit, which must be able to perform this heavenly exercise. It is the work of the living, and not of the dead; it is a work of all other most spiritual and sublime, and therefore not to be well performed by a heart that is merely carnal and terrene. Also, they must necessarily have some relation to heaven before they can familiarly there converse. I suppose them to be the sons of God, when I persuade them to love him; and to be of the family of God, yea, the spouse of his Son, when I persuade them to press into his presence, and to dwell with him. 1 suppose them to be such as have title to rest, when I persuade them to rejoice in the meditations of rest. These, therefore, being all presupposed, are not the duties here intended and required, but it is the bringing of their sanctified dispositions into act, and the delightful reviewing of their high relations. Habits and powers are but to enable us to action. To say, I am able to do this, or I am disposed to it, doth neither please God, nor advantage ourselves, except withal we really do it. God doth not regenerate thy soul that it may be able to know him, and not know him; or that it may be able to believe, and yet not believe ; or that it may be able to love him, and yet not to love him ; but he therefore makes thee able to know, to believe, and love, that thou mayst indeed both know, believe, and love him. What good doth that power which is not reduced into act ? Therefore, I am not now exhorting thee to be an able Christian, but to be an active Christian, according to the degree of that ability which thou hast. As thy store of money, or food, or raiment, which thou lettest lie by thee, and never usest, doth thee no good but please thy fancy, or raise thee to an esteem in the eyes of others, so all thy gifts, and powers, and habits, which lie still in thy soul, and are never acted, do profit or comfort thee little or nothing, but in satisfying thy

fancy, and raising thcc to the repute of an able man, so far as they are discernible to the standers-by.

Sect. IV. 2. I call this meditation " the acting of the powers of the soul," meaning the soul as rational, to difference it from the cogitations of the soul as sensitive : the sensitive soul hath a kind of meditation by the connnon sense, the fantasy and estimation. The fleshly man mindeth the things of the flesh, Horn. viii. If it were the work of the ear, or the eye, or the tongue, or the hands, which I am setting you on, I doubt not but you would more readily take it up ; but it is the work of the soul, for bodily exercise doth here profit but little. The soul hath its labour and its ease, its business and its idleness, its intention and remission, as well as the body; and diligent students are usually as sensible of the labour and weariness of their spirits and brain, as they arc of that of the members of the body. This action of the soul is it I persuade thee to.

Sect. V. 3. I call it the acting of " all" the powers of the soul, to difference it from the common meditation of students, which is usually the mere employment of the brain. It is not a bare thinking that I mean, nor the mere use of invention or memory, but a business of a higher and more excellent nature. When truth is apprehended only as truth, this is but an unsavoury and loose apprehension ; but when it is apprehended as good, as well as true, this is a fast and delightful apprehension. As a man is not so prone to live according to the truth he knows, except it do deeply affect him, so neither doth his soul enjoy its sweetness, except speculation do pass to affection. The understanding is not the whole soul, and therefore cannot do the whole work. As God hath made several parts in man to perform their several offices for his nourishing and life, so hath he ordained the faculties of the soul to perform their several offices for his spiritual life : the stomach must chylify, and prepare for the liver ; the liver and spleen must sanguify, and prepare for the heart and brain; and these must beget the vital and animal spirits, &c.; so the understanding must take in truths, and prepare them for the v.'ill, and it must receive them, and commend them to the affections. The best digestion is in the bottom of the stomach; the affections are, as it were, the bottom of the soul; and therefore the best digestion is there. While truth is but a speculation swimming in the brain, the soul hath not half received it, nor taken fast hold of it: Christ and heaven have various excellences, and therefore God hath formed the soul with a power of apprehending divers ways, that so we might be capable of enjoying those divefs excellences in Christ. Even as the creatures having their several uses, God hath given us several senses, that so we might enjoy the delights of them all. What the better had we been for the pleasant, odoriferous flowers and perfumes, if we had not possessed the sense of smelling ? or what good would language or music have done us, if God had not given us the sense of hearing ? or what delight should we have found in meats, or drinks, or sweetest things, if we had been deprived of the sense of tasting ( So also, what good could all the glory of heaven have done us; or

what pleasure should we have had, even in the goodness -and perfection of God himself; if we had been without the affections of love and joy, whereby we are capable of being delighted in that goodness ? And what benefit of strength or sweetness canst thou possibly receive by thy meditations on eternity, while thou dost not exercise those affections which are the senses of the soul, by which it must receive this sweetness and strength ?

This is it that hath deceived Christians in this business; they have thought that meditation is nothing but the bare thinking on truths, and the rolling of them in the understanding and memory; when every school-boy can do this, or persons that hate the things which they think on.

Therefore this is the great task in hand, and this is the work that I would set thee on : to get these truths from thy head to thy heart, and that all the sermons which thou hast heard of heaven, and all the notions that thou hast conceived of this rest, may be turned into the blood and spirits of affection, and thou mayst feel them revive thee, and warm thee at the heart, and mayst so think of heaven as heaven should be thought on.

There are two accesses of contemplation, said Bernard; one in intellection, the other in afiection ; one in light, the other in heat; one in acquisition, the other in devotion. If thou shouldst study of nothing but heaven while thou livest, and shouldst have thy thoughts at command, to turn them hither on every occasion, and yet shouldst proceed no further than this ; this were not the meditation that I intend, nor would it much advantage or better thy soul: as it is thy whole soul that must possess God hereafter, so must the whole, in a lower matter, possess him here. I have shown you in the beginning of this treatise, how the soul must enjoy the Lord in glory ; to wit, by knowing, by loving, and joying in him : why, the very same way must thou begin thy enjoyment here.

So much as thy understanding and affections are sincerely acted upon God, so much dost thou enjoy him ; and this is the happy work of this meditation. So that you see here is somewhat more to be done than barely to remember and think of heaven. As running, ringing, and moving, and such-like labours, do not only stir a hand or foot, but do strain and exercise the whole body, so doth meditation the whole soul.

As the affections of sinners are set on the world, and turned to idols, and fallen from God, as well as the understanding, so must the affections of men be reduced to God, and taken up with him, as well as the understanding; and as the whole was filled with sin before, so the whole must be filled with God now. As St. Paul saith of knowledge, and gifts, and faith to remove mountains, that if thou have all these without love," thou art but as sounding brass, or as a tinkling cymbal," 1 Cor. xiii. 1,2; so I may say of the exercise of these, if in this work of meditation thou do exercise knowledge, and gifts, and faith of miracles, and not exercise love and joy, thou dost nothing ; thou playest the child, and not the man; the sinner's part, and not the saint's. For so will sinners do

Chai'. VI. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. l^^S

also. If thy meditation tends to fill thy note-book with notions, and good sayings, concerning God, and not thy heart with longings after him, and delight in him, for aught I know thy book is as nuich a C'hristian as thou. Mark but David's description of the blessed man : " His delight is in the law of the Lord, and therein doth he meditate day and night," Psal. i. 3.

Sect. VI. 4. I call this meditation "set and solemn," to difference it from that which is occasional and cursory. As there is prayer which is solemn, when we sot ourselves wholly to the duty, and prayer which is sudden and short, commonly called ejaculations, when a man, in the midst of other business, doth send up some brief request to God; so also there is meditation solemn, when wc aj)ply ourselves only to that work ; and there is meditation which is short and cursory, when in the midst of our business we have some good thoughts of God in our minds : and as solemn prayer is either first set, when a Christian, observing it as a standing duty, doth resolvedly practise it in a constant course; or, secondly, occasionally, when some unusual occasion doth put us upon it at a season extraordinary ; so also meditation admits of the like distinction. Now, though I would persuade you to that meditation which is mixed w'ith your common labours in your callings, and to that which special occasions do direct you to, yet these are not the main things which I here intend ; but that you would make it a constant, standing duty, as you do by hearing, and praying, and reading the Scripture; and that you would solemnly set yourselves about it, and make it for that time your whole work, and intermix other matters no more with it than you would do with prayer or other duties. Thus you see, as it is differenced by its act, what kind of meditation it is that we speak of; viz. it is the set and solemn acting of all the powers of the soul.

Sect. VII. The second part of the difference is drawn from its object, which is " rest," or the most blessed state of man in his everlasting enjoyment of God in heaven. Meditation hath a large field to walk in; and hath as many objects to work upon, as there are matters, and lines, and words in the Scripture, as there are known creatures in the whole creation, and as there are particular discernible passages of providence in the government of the persons and actions through the world; but the meditation that I now (hrcct you in, is only of the end of all these, and of these as they refer to that end. It is not a walk from mountains to valleys, from sea to land, from kingdom to kingdom, from planet to planet; but it is a walk from mountaiins and valleys to the holy Mount Zion; from sea and land to the land of the living; from the kingdoms of this world to the kingdom of saints; from earth to heaven; from time to eternity. It is a walking upon sun, and moon, and stars ; it is a walking in the garden and paradise of God. It may seem far off; but spirits are quick, whether in the body or out of the body; their motion is swift; they are not so heavy or dull as these earthly lumps, nor so slow of motion as these clods of flesh. I would not have you cast off your other meditations, but, surely, as heaven

hath the pre-eminence in perfection, so should it have the preeminence also in our meditations. That which will make us most happy when we possess it, will make us most joyful when we meditate upon it, especially when that meditation is a degree of possession, if it be such affecting meditation as I here describe.

You need not here be troubled with the fears of the world, lest studying so much on these high matters should craze your brains, and make you mad, unless you would go mad with delight and joy, and that of the purest and most solid kind. If I set you to meditate as much on sin and wrath, and to study nothing but judgment and damnation, then you might justly fear such an issue. But it is heaven, and not hell, that I would persuade you to walk in. It is joy, and not sorrow, that I persuade you to exercise. I would urge you to look upon no deformed object, but only upon the ravishing glory of saints, and the unspeakable excellences of the God of glory, and the beams that stream from the face of his Son. Are these such sadding and madding thoughts ? Will it distract a man to think of his only happiness !" Will it distract the miserable to think of mercy, or the captive or prisoner to foresee deliverance, or the poor to think of riches and honour approaching ? Neither do I persuade your thoughts to matters of great difhculty, or to study thorny and knotty controversies of heaven, or to search out things beyond your reach. If you should thus set your wit and invention upon the tenters, you might be quickly distracted or distempered indeed. But it is your affections more than your wits and inventions, which must be used in this heavenly employment we speak of. They are truths which are commonly known and professed, that your souls must draw forth and feed upon. The resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting, are articles of your creed, and not nicer controversies. Methinks it should be liker to make a man mad, to think of living in a world of woe, to think of abiding in poverty and sickness, among the rage of wicked men, than to think of living with Christ in bliss. Methinks, if we be not mad already, it should sooner distract us, to hear the tempests and roaring waves, to see the billows, and rocks, and sands, and gulfs, than to think of arriving safe at rest. But wisdom is justified of all her children, Matt. xi. 19 ; Luke vii. 35. Knowledge hath no enemy but the ignorant. This heavenly course was never spoke against by any, but those that never either knew it, or used it. I more fear the neglect of men that do approve it, than the opposition or arguments of any against it. Truth loseth more by loose friends than by sharpest enemies.

Chai'. VII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING KEST. .05.3

CHAPTER VII.

CONTAINING THIC FITTEST TIMK AND PLACK FOK THIS CONTI^M-PLATION, AND THE PREPARATION OF THE HEART UNTO IT,

Sect. I. Thus I have opened to you the nature of this duty, and by this time I suppose you partly apprehend what it is that I so press upon you ; which, when it is opened more particularly, you will more fully discern. I now proceed to direct you in the work : where I shall, First, Show you how you must set upon it; and. Secondly, How you nmst behave yourself in it ; and. Thirdly, How you shall shut it up. And here I suppose thee to be a man that dost conscionably avoid the forementioned hinderances, and con-scionably use the forementioned helps, or else it is in vain to set thee a higher lesson, till thou hast first learned that; which, if thou have done, I then further advise thee. First, Somewhat concerning the time and season ; Secondly, Somewhat concerning the place ; and, Thirdly, Somewhat concerning the frame of thy spirit.

And, First, For the time, I advise thee that, as much as may be, it may be set and constant. Proportion out such a part of thy time to the w'ork.

Stick not at their scruple, who question the stating of times as superstitious. If thou suit out thy time to the advantage of the work, and place no more religion in the time itself, thou needest not to fear lest this be superstition. As a Avorkman in his shop mIU have a set place for every one of his tools and wares, or else when he should use it, it may be to seek; so a Christian should have a set time for every ordinary duty, or else when he should practise it, it is ten to one but he will be put by it. Stated time is a hedge to duty, and defends it against many temptations to omission. God hath stated none but the Lord's day himself, but he hath left it to be stated and determined by ourselves, according to every man's condition and occasions, lest otherwise his law should have been a burden or a snare. Yet hath he left us general rules, which, by the use of reason and Christian prudence, may help us to determine of the fittest times. It is as ridiculous a question of them that ask us where Scripture commands to pray so oft, or at such hours, privately, or in families; as if they asked where the Scripture commands that the church-house, or temple, stand in such a place, or the pulpit in such a place, or my seat in such a place ; or where it commands a man to read the Scriptures with a pair of spectacles, &c. Most that I have known to break the bond of duty, and to argue against a stated time, have at last grown careless of the duty itself, and showed more dislike against the work than the time. If God give me so much money or wealth, and tell me not in Scripture how much such a poor man must have, nor how much my family, nor how much in clothes, and how much in expenses; is it not lawful, yea, and necessary, that I make the division myself, and

allow to each the due proportion ? So, if God bestow on nie a day or week of time, and give nie such and such work to do in this time, and tell me not how much I shall allot to each work, certainly I must make the division myself, and cut my coat according to my cloth, and pi-oportion it wisely and carefully too, or else I am like to leave something undone. Though God hath not told you at what hour you shall rise in the morning, or at what hours you shall eat and drink, yet your own reason and experience will tell you that, ordinarily, you should observe a stated time. Neither let the fear of customariness and formality deter you from this. That argument hath brought the Lord's supper from once a week to once a quarter, or once a year; and it hath brought family duties, with too many of late, from twice a day to once a week, or once a month ; and if it were not that man, being proud, is naturally of a teaching humour, and addicted to works of popularity and ostentation, I believe it would diminish preaching as much : and will it deal any better with secret duties, especially this of holy meditation ? I advise thee, therefore, if well thou mayst, to allow this duty a stated time, and be as constant in it as in hearing and praying. Yet be cautious in understanding this. I know this will not prove every man's duty. Some have not themselves and their time at conmiand, and therefore cannot set their hours. Such are most servants, and many children of poor and carnal parents; and many are so poor that the necessity of their families will deny them this freedom. I do not think it the duty of such to leave their labours for this work just at certain set times; no, nor for prayer, or other necessary worship. No such duty is at all times a duty. Affirmatives, especially positive, bind not semper et ad semper. When two duties come together, and cannot both be performed, it were then a sin to perform the lesser. Of two duties we must choose the greater, though of two sins we must choose neither. I think such persons were best to be watchful, to redeem time as much as they can, and take their vacant opportunities as they fall, and especially to join meditation and prayer, as much as they can, with the very labours of their callings. There is no such enmity between labouring and meditating, or praying in the spirit, but that both may conveniently be done together. Yet, I say, (as Paul, in another case,) if thou canst be free, use it rather. Those that have more spare time from worldly necessaries, and are masters to dispose of themselves and their time, I still advise that they keep this duty to a stated time : and, indeed, it were no ill husbandry, nor point of folly, if we did so by all other duties. If we considered of the ordinary works of the day, and suited out a fit season and proportion of time to every work, and fixed this in our memory and resolution, or wrote it in a table, and kept it in our closets, and never break it but upon unexpected extraordinary cause; if every work of the day had thus its appointed time, we should be better skilled, both in redeeming time and performing duty.

Sect. II. 2. I advise thee also, concerning thy time for this duty, that as it be stated, so it be frequent: just how oft it should

1)6, I cannot determine, Lecauso men's several conditions may vary it; but in general, tiiat it bo frequent, the Scripture requireth, when it mentioneth meditating continually, and day and night, Psal. i, 2; cxi\. 97, 14"^. Circumstances of our condition may much vary tlie circumstances of our duties. It may be one man's duty to hear or pray oftener than another, and so it may be in this of meditation. 15ut for those that can conveniently omit other business, I advise, that' it be once a day at least. Though Scripture tells us not how oft in a day we should eat or drink ; yet prudence and experience will direct us twice or thrice a day, according to the temper and necessities of our bodies. Those that think they should not tie themselves to order or number of duties, but should then only meditate or pray, when they find the Spirit provoking them to it, do go upon uncertain and unchristian grounds. I am sure, the Scripture provokes us to frequency, and our necessity secondeth the voice of Scripture ; and if through my own neglect, or resistance of the Spirit, I do not find it so to excite and quicken me, I dare not therefore disobey the Scripture, nor neglect the necessities of my own soul. I should suspect that spirit which would turn my soul from constancy in duty : if the Spirit in Scripture bid me meditate or pray, I dare not forbear it, because I find not the Spirit within me to second the command : if I find not in-citation to duty before, yet I may find assistance while I wait in performance. I am afraid of laying my corruptions upon the Spirit, or blaming the want of the Spirit's assistance, when I should blame the backwardness of my own heart; nor dare I make one corruption a plea for another ; nor urge the inward rebellion of my nature, as a reason for the outward disobedience of my life : and for the healing of my nature's backwardness, I more expect that the Spirit of Christ should do it in a way of duty, (which I still find to be his ordinary season of working,) than in a way of disobedience, and neglect of duty. Men that fall on duty, according to the frame of their spirits only, are like our ignorant vulgar, (or if you will, like the swine,) who think their appetite should be the only rule of their eating ; when a wise man judgeth both of quantity and quality, by reason and experience; lest when his appetite is depraved, he should either surfeit or famish. Our appetite is no sure rule for our times of duty ; but the word of God in general, and our spiritual reason, experience, necessity, and convenience in particular, may truly direct us.

Three reasons especially should persuade thee to frequency in this meditation on heaven.

I. Because seldom conversing with him will breed a strangeness betwixt thy soul and God : frequent society breeds familiarity, and familiarity increaseth love and delight, and maketh us bold and confident in our addresses. This is the main end of this duty ; that thou mayst have acquaintance and fellowship with God therein ; therefore, if thou come but seldom to it, thou wilt keep thyself a stranger still, and so miss of the end of the work. Oh ! when a man feels his need of God, and must seek, his help in a time of

necessity, when nothing else can do him any good, you would little think what an encouragement it is, to go to a God that we know, and are acquainted with. Oh! saith the heavenly Christian, I know hoth whither I go, and to whom ; I have gone this way many a time before now ; it is the same God that I daily conversed with ; it is the same way that was my daily walk ; God knows me well enough, and I have some knowledge of him. On the other side, what a horror and discouragement to the soul will it be, when it is forced to fly God in straits : to think, Alas ! I know not whither to go ; I never went the way before ; I have no acquaintance at the court of heaven, my soul knows not that God that I must speak to ; and I fear he will not know my soul! But especially when we come to die, and must immediately appear before this God, and expect to enter into his eternal rest, then the difference will plainly appear ; then what a joy will it be to think, I am going to the place that I daily conversed in; to the place from whence I tasted so frequent delights ; to that God whom I have met in my meditation so oft! My heart hath been at heaven before now, and tasted the .sweetness that hath oft revived it; and (as Jonathan by his honey) if my eyes were so enlightened, and my mind refreshed, when I tasted but a little of that sweetness, what will it be when I shall feed on it freely ! 1 Sam. xiv. 29. On the other side, what a terror must it be to think, I must die, and go I know not whither ; from a place where I am acquainted, to a place where I have no familiarity or knowledge ! O sirs, it is an inexpressible horror to a dying man, to have strange thoughts of God and heaven; I am persuaded there is no cause so common, that makes death even to godly men unwelcome and uncomfortable. Therefore, I persuade thee to frequency in this duty, that seldomness breed not estrangedness from God.

2. And besides that, seldomness will make thee unskilful in the work, and strange to the duty, as well as to God. How unhandsomely and clumsily do men set their hands to a work that they are seldom employed in ! Whereas frequency will habituate thy heart to the w'ork, and thou wilt better know the way which thou daily walkest, yea, and it will be more easy and delightful also : the hill which made thee pant and blow at the first going up, thou mayst run up easily when thou art once accustomed to it. The heart, which of itself is naturally backward, will contract a greater unwillingness through disuse; and as an untamed colt not used to the hand, it will hardly come to hand when thou shouldst use it.

3, And lastly. Thou wilt lose that heat and life by long intermissions, which with much ado thou didst obtain in duty. If thou eat but a meal in two or three days, thou wilt lose thy strength as fast as thou gettest it; if in holy meditation thou get near to Christ, and warm thy heart with the fire of love, if thou then turn away and come but seldom, thou wilt soon return to thy former coldness. If thou walk or labour till thou hast got thee heat, and then sit idle all day after, wilt thou not surely lose thy heat again ?

Especially, it being so spiritual a work, and so against the bent of nature, we shall bo still inclining to our natural temper.

If water that is heated be long from the fire, it will return to its coldness, because that is its natural temper. I advise thee, therefore, that thou ])c as oft as may be in this soul-raising duty, lest when thou hast long rowed hard against the stream, or tide, and wind, the boat should go farther down by thy intermission, than it was got up by all thy labour: and lest, when thou hast been long rolling thy stony heart towards the top of the hill, it should go faster down when thou dost slack thy diligence. It is true, the intermixed use of other duties may do much to the keeping thy heart above, especially secret prayer ; but meditation is the life of most other duties ; and the view of heaven is the life of meditation.

Sect. III. 3. Concerning the time of this duty, I advise thee that thou choose the most seasonable time. All things are beautiful and excellent in their season. Unseasonableness may lose thee the fruit of thy labour; it may raise up disturbances and difficulties in the work ; yea, it may turn a duty to sin : when the seasonable-ness of a duty doth make it easy, doth remove impediments, doth imbolden us to the undertaking, and doth ripen its fruit.

The seasons of this duty are either. First, Extraordinary ; or. Secondly, Ordinary.

1. The ordinary season for your daily performance cannot be particularly determined by man; otherwise God would have determined it in his word. But men's conditions of employment, and freedom, and bodily temper, are so various, that the same may be a seasonable hour to one, which may be unseasonable to another. If thou be a servant, or a hard labourer, that thou hast not thyself nor thy time at command, thou must take that season which thy business will best afford thee. Either as thou sittest in the shop at thy work, or as thou travellest on the way, or as thou liest waking in the night. Every man best knows his own time, even when he hath the least to hinder him of his business in the world. But for those whose necessities tie them not so close, but that they may well lay aside their earthly affairs, and choose what time of the day they will, my advice to such is, that they carefully observe the temper of their body and mind, and mark when they find their spirits most active and fit for contemplation, and pitch upon that as the stated time. Some men are freest for duties when they are fasting, and some are then unfittest of all. Some are fit for duties of humiliation at one season, and for duties of exultation at another. Every man is the meetest judge for himself. Only give me leave to tender you my observation, which time I have always found fittest for myself; and that is, the evening, from sun-setting to twilight; and sometimes in the night, when it is warm and clear. Whether it be any thing from the temperature of my body, I know not; but I conjf'cture that the same time would be seasonable to most tempers, for several natural reasons, which I will not now stand to mention. Neither would I have mentioned my own experience in this, but that I was encouraged hereunto by finding it

suit with the experience of a better and wiser man than myself, and that is Isaac : for it is said in Gen. xxiv. 63, that he went to meditate in the field at the eventide. And his experience I dare more l)oldly reconmiend unto you than my own; and, as I remember, Dr. Hall, in his excellent treatise of meditation, gives you the like account of his own experience.

Sect. IV. 2. The Lord's day is a time exceeding seasonable for this exercise. When should we more seasonably contemplate on rest, than on that day of rest which doth typify it to us ? Neither do I think that typifying use is ceased, because the antitype is not fully yet to come ; however, it being a day appropriated to worship and spiritual duties, methinks we should never exclude this duty which is so eminently spiritual. I think, verily, this is the chiefest work of a Christian sabbath, and most agreeable to the intent of its positive institution. What fitter time to converse with our Lord than on that day which he hath appropriated to such employment, and therefore called it the Lord's day ? What fitter day to ascend to heaven than that on which our Lord did arise from earth, and fully triumph over death and hell, and take possession of heaven for us ? The fittest temper for a true believer is to be in the Spirit on the Lord's day; this was St. John's temper on that day, Rev. i. 13; and what can bring us to this ravishment in the Spirit but the spiritual beholding of our ravishing glory ? Surely, though an outward ordiiianue may delight the ear, or tickle the fancy, yet it is the view of God that must ravish the soul. There is a great deal of difference betwixt the receiving of the word with joy, Matt. xiii. 20, and being in the Spirit on the Lord's day. Rev. i. 10.

Two sorts of Christians I would entreat to take notice of this especially.

1. Those that spend the Lord's day only in public worship, either through the neglect of this spiritual duty of meditation, or else by their over-much exercise of the public, allowing no time to private duty. Though there be few that offend in this last kind, yet some there are, and a hurtful mistake to the soul it is. They will grow but in gifts, and common accomplishments, if they exercise but their gifts in outward performances.

2. Those that have time on the Lord's day for idleness and vain discourse, and find the day longer than they know how well to spend : Avere these but acquainted with this duty of contemplation, they would need no other recreation or pastime ; they would think the longest day short enough, and be sorry that the night hath shortened their pleasure.

Whether this day be of positive Divine institution, and so to us Christians of necessary observation, is out of my way to handle here. I refer those that doubt to what is in print on that subject, especially Master George Al)bot against Broad; and, above all, Master Cawdry, and Master Palmer, their " Sabbatum Redivivum." It is an encouragement to the doubtful, to find the generality of its rational opposers to acknowledge the usefulness, yea, the necessity, of a stated day, and the fitness of this above all other days. I

would I could persuade those that are convinced of its morality, to spend a greater part of it in this true spirituality. But we do in this as in most things else, think it enough that we believe our duty, as we do the articles of our faith, and let who will put it in practice : we will dispute for duty, and let others perform it. As I have known some drunkards upon the ale-bench will plead for godly men, while themselves are ungodly ; so do too many for the observation of the Lord's day, who themselves are unacquainted with this spiritual part of its observation. Christians, let heaven have some share in your sabbaths, where you nmst shortly keep your everlasting sabbath. As you go from stair to stair, till you come to the top, so use your sabbaths as steps to glory, till you have passed them all, and are there arrived. Especially you that are poor men, and servants, that cannot take time in the week as you desire, see that you well improve this day. Now your labour lies not so much upon you, now you are unyoked from your common business, be sure, as your bodies rest from their labours, that your spirit seek after rest with God. I admonish all those that are possessed with the censorious devil, that if they see a poor Christian walking privately in the fields on the Lord's day, they would not pharisaically conclude him a sabbath-breaker, till they know more. It may be he takes it as the opportunest place to withdraw himself from the world to God. Thou seest where his body walks, but thou seest not where he is walking in spirit. Hannah was censured for a woman drunk, till Eli heard her speak for herself; and when he knew the truth, he was ashamed of his censure. The silent, spiritual worshipper is most liable to their censure, because he gives not the world an account of his worship.

Thus I have directed thee to the fittest season for the ordinary performance of this heavenly work.

Sect. V. 2. For the extraordinary performance, these following are seasonable times. 1. When God doth extraordinarily revive and enable thy spirit. When God hath enkindled thy spirit with fire from above, it is that it may mount aloft more freely. It is a choice part of a Christian's skill, to observe the temper of his own spirit, and to observe the gales of grace, and how the Spirit of Christ doth move upon his. Without Christ we can do nothing, John XV. 5; therefore, let us be doing when he is doing; and be sure not to be out of the way, nor asleep, when he comes. The sails of the windmill stir not without the wind ; therefore, they must set them a-going when the wind blows. Be sure that thou watch this wind and tide, if thou wouldst have a speedy voyage to heaven. A little labour will set thy heart a-going at such a time as this, when another time thou mayst study and take pains to little purpose. Most Christians do sometimes find a more than ordinary reviving and activeness of spirit: take this as sent from heaven to raise thee thither; and when the Spirit is lifting thy heart from the earth, be sure thou then lift at it thyself. As when the angel came to Peter in his prison and irons, and smote him on the side, and raised him up, saying, " Arise up quickly, gird thyself, bind on thy 2 o

I sandals, and cast thy garments about thee, and follow me," and Peter arose and followed till he was delivered, Acts xii. 7, 8, &c.; so when the Spirit finds thy heart in prison and irons, and smites it, and bids thee " Arise quickly, and follow me," be sure thou then arise and follow, and thou shalt find thy chains fall off, and all doors will open, and thou wilt be at heaven before thou art aware. Sect. VI. 2. "When thou art cast into perplexing troubles of mind, through sufferings, or fear, or care, or temptations, then is it seasonable to address thyself to this duty. When should we take our cordials but in our times of fainting ? When is it more seasonable to walk to heaven, than when we know not in what corner on earth to live with comfort; or when should our thoughts converse above, but when they have nothing but grief to converse with below ? Where should Noah's dove be, but in the ark, when the waters do cover the earth, and she cannot find rest for the sole of her foot ? Gen. viii. 8, 9. What should we think on but our Father's house, when we want even the husks of the world to feed on ? Surely, God sends thee thy afflictions to this very purpose. Happy, thou poor man, if thou make this use of thy poverty ; and thou that art sick, if thou so improve thy sickness. It is seasonable to go to the promised land, when our burdens and tasks are increased in Egypt, and when we endure the dolours of a grievous wilderness. Believe it, reader, if thou knewest but what a cordial in thy griefs and cares the serious views of glory are, thou wouldst less fear these harmless troubles, and more use that preserving, reviving remedy. I would not have thee, as mountebanks, take poison first, and then their antidote, to show its power; to create thy affliction to try this remedy : but if God reach thee forth the bitterest cup, drop in but a little of the taste of heaven, and I warrant thee it will sufficiently sweeten it to thy spirit. If the case thou art in seem never so dan gerous, take but a little of this antidote of rest, and never fear the pain or danger. I will give thee to confirm this, but the example of David and the opinion of Paul, and desire thee thoroughly to consider of both. " In the multitude of my thoughts within me," saith David, " thy comforts delight my soul," Psal. xciv. 19. As if he should say, I have multitudes of sadding thoughts which crowd upon me ; thoughts of my sins, and thoughts of my foes ; thoughts of my dangers, and thoughts of my pains; yet, in the midst of all this crowd, one serious thought of the comforts of thy love, and especially of the comfortable life in glory, doth so dispel the throng, and scatter my cares, and disperse the clouds which my troubles had raised, that they do even revive and delight my soul. And Paul, when he had cast up his full accounts, gives thee the sum in Rom. viii. 18, " For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us." Study these words well, for every one of them is full of life. If these true sayings of God were truly and deeply fixed in thy heart, and if thou couldst, in thy sober meditation, but draw out the comfort of this one scripture, I dare affirm it would sweeten the bitterest cross, and in a sort make thee forget thy

trouble, as Christ saith " a woman forgets her travail, for joy that a man is born into the world," John xvi. 21 ; yea, and make thee rejoice in thy tribidation. I will add but one text more : " For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward is renewed day by day. For our light affliction which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal," 2 Cor. iv. IG, 17.

Sect. VII. 4. Another fit season for this heavenly duty is, when the messengers of God do summon us to die ; when either our grey hairs, or our languishing bodies, or some such-like forerunners of death, do tell us that our change cannot be far off. When should we more frequently sweeten our souls with the believing thoughts of another life, than when we find that this is almost ended, and when flesh is raising fears and terrors ? Surely no men have greater need of supporting joys than dying men ; and those joys must be fetched from our eternal joy. Men that have earthly pleasures in their hands, may think they are well, though they taste no more; but when a man is dying, and parting with all other pleasures, he must then fetch his pleasure from heaven, or have none ; when health is gone, and friends lie weeping by our beds; when houses, and lands, and goods, and w'ealth cannot afford us the least relief, but we are taking our leave of earth for ever, except a hole for our bodies to rot in; when we are daily expecting our final day, it is now time to look to heaven, and to fetch in comfort and support from thence. And as heavenly delights are sweetest when they are unmixed and pure, and have no earthly delights conjoined with them; so therefore the delights of dying Christians are oft-times the sweetest that ever they had: therefore have the saints been generally observed to be then most heavenly when they were nearest dying. What a prophetical blessing hath Jacob for his sons when he lay a dying ! and so Isaac. What a heavenly song, what a divine benediction, doth Moses conclude his life withal! Deut. xxxii. xxxiii. Nay, as our Saviour increased in wisdom and knowledge, so did he also in their blessed expressions, and still the last the sweetest. What a heavenly prayer, what a heavenly advice, doth he leave his disciples, when he is about to leave them ! When he saw he must leave the world and go to the Father, how doth he wean them from worldly expectations ! How doth he mind them of the mansions in his Father's house : and remember them of his coming again to fetch them thither; and open the union they shall have with him, and wdth each other ; and promise them to be with him to behold his glory! There is more worth in those four chapters, John xiv.—xvii. than in all the books in the world beside. When blessed Paul was ready to be offered up, what heavenly exhortation doth he give the Philippians ; what advice to Timothy ; what counsel to the elders of the Ephesian church ! Acts XX. How near was St. John to heaven in his banishment in 2 o 2

Patmos, a little before his translation to heaven ! What heavenly discourse had Luther in his last sickness ! How close was Calvin to his divine studies in his very sickness, that when they would have dissuaded him from it, he answers, Vultime me otiosnm a Domino apprehendi ? What! would you have God find me idle ? I have not lived idly, and shall I die idly ? The like may be said of our famous Reignolds. When excellent Bucholcer was near his end, he wrote his book " De Consolatione Decumbentium." Then it was that Tossanus wrote his " Vade mecum." Then Doctor Preston was upon the " Attributes of God." And then Mr. Bolton was on the " Joys of Heaven." It were endless to enumerate the eminent examples of this kind. It is the general temper of the spirits of the saints, to be then most heavenly when they are nearest to heaven. As we used to say of the old and the weak, that they have one foot in the gravie already ; so we may say of the godly, when they are near their rest, they have one foot, as it were, in heaven already. When should a traveller look homewards with joy, but when he is come within the sight of his home ? It is true, the pains of our bodies and the fainting of our spirits, may somewhat abate the liveliness of our joy ; but the measure we have will be the more pure and spiritual, by how much the less it is kindled from the flesh. Oh that we, who are daily languishing, could learn this daily heavenly conversing, and could say as the apostle in the forecited place, 2 Cor. iv. 16—18. Oh that every gripe that our bodies feel might make us more sensible of future ease; and that every weary day and hour might make us long for our eternal rest ! that as the pulling down of one end of the balance is the lifting up of the other, so the pulling down of our bodies might be the lifting up of our souls; that as our souls were usually at the worst when our bodies were at the best, so now they might be at the best when our bodies are at the worst. Why should we not think thus with ourselves ? Why, every one of these gripes that I feel, are but the cutting of the stitches for the ripping oiF mine old attire, that God may clothe me with the glory of his saints. Had I rather live in these rotten rags, than be at the trouble and pains to shift me ? Should the infant desire to stay in the womb, because of the straitness and pains of the passage; or because he knows not the world that he is to come into ; nor is acquainted with the fashions and inhabitants thereof? Am not I nearer to my desired rest than ever I was ? If the remembrance of these griefs will increase my joy, when I shall look back upon them from above, why then should not the remembrance of that joy abate my griefs when I look upwards to it from below ? And why should the present feeling of these dolours so much diminish the foretastes of glory, when the remembrance of them will then increase it ? All these gripes and woes that I feel, are but the farewell of sin and sorrows. As nature useth to struggle hard a little before death, and as the devil cast the man to the ground and tore him, when he was going out of him, Mark ix. 26; so this tearing and troubling which I now feel, is but at the departure of sin and misery: for as

the effects of grace are sweetest at last, so the effects of sin are bitterest at the last, and this is the last that ever I shall taste of it; when once the whirlwind and earthquake is past, the still voice will next succeed, and God only will be in the voice, though sin also was in the earthquake and whirlwind.

Thus, Christian, as every pang of sickness should mind the wicked of their eternal pangs, and make them look into the bottom of hell, so should all thy woe and weakness mind thee of thy near approaching joy, and make thee look as high as heaven ; and, as a ball, the harder thou art smitten down to earth, the higher shouldst thou rebound up to heaven. If this be thy case, who readest these lines, (and if it be not now, it will be shortly,) if thou lie in consuming, painful sickness, if thou perceive the dying time draw on,

0 where should thy heart be now but with Christ ? Methinks thou shouldst even behold him, as it were, standing by thee, and shouldst bespeak him as thy Father, thy Husband, thy Physician, thy Friend. Methinks thou shouldst even see, as it were, the angels about thee waiting to perform their last office to thy soul, as thy friends wait to perform theirs to thy body : those angels which disdained not to bring the soul of a scabbed beggar to heaven, will not think much to conduct thee thither. O, look upon thy sickness as Jacob did on Joseph's chariots, and let thy spirit revive within thee, and say. It is enough that Joseph, that Christ is yet alive ; for because he lives, I shall live also, John xiv. 19. As thou art sick, and needest the daintiest food and choicest cordials, so here are choicer than the world affords. Here is the food of angels and glorified saints ; here are all the joys that heaven doth yield, even the vision of God, the sight of Christ, and whatsoever the blessed there possess : this table is spread for thee to feed on in thy sickness; these dainties are offered thee by the hand of Christ: he hath written thee the receipt in the promises of the gospel; he hath prepared thee all the ingredients in heaven; only put forth the hand of faith, and feed upon them, and rejoice and live. The Lord saith to thee, as he did to Elias, " Arise, and eat, because the journey is too great for thee," 1 Kings xix. 7. Though it be not long, yet the way is foul: I counsel thee, therefore, that thou obey his voice, and arise and eat, and in the strength of that meat thou mayst walk till thou come to the mount of God. Die not in the ditch of horror or stupidity ; but, as the Lord said to IMoses, " Go up into the mount, and see the land that the Lord hath promised, and die in the mount," Deut. xxxii. 49, 50. And as old Simeon, when he saw Christ in his infancy in the temple, so do thou behold him in the temple of the new Jerusalem as in his glory, and take him in the arms of thy faith, and say, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eye (of faith) hath seen thy salvation." As thou wast never so near to heaven as now, so let thy spirit be nearer it now than ever.

So you have seen which is the fittest season for this duty :

1 should here advise thee also of some times unseasonable, but I shall only add this one caution, The unseasonable urging of the

most spiritual duty, is more from the tempter than from the Spirit of God! When Satan sees a Christian in a condition wherein he is unable and unfit for a duty, or wherein he may have more advantage against us by our performance of it than by our omitting it, he will then drive on as earnestly to duty, as if it M'ere the very Spirit of holiness ; that so upon our omitting, or ill performance, he may have somewhat to cast in our teeth, and to trouble us with. And this is one of his ways of deceiving, when he transforms himself into an angel of light. It may be, when thou art on thy knees in prayer, thou shalt have many good thoughts will come into thy mind; or when thou art hearing the word, or at such unseasonable times. Resist these good thoughts as coming from the devil, for they are formally evil, though they are materially good; even good thoughts in themselves may be sinful to thee. It may be, when thou shouldst be diligent in thy necessary labours, thou shalt be moved to cast aside all, that thou mayst go to meditation or to prayer; these motions are usually from the spirit of delusion : the Spirit of Christ doth nothing unseasonably: God is not the God of confusion, but of order.

Sect. VIII. Thus much I thought necessary to advise thee concerning the time of this duty. It now follows that I speak a word of the fittest place. Though God is every where to be found by a faithful soul, yet some places are more convenient for a duty than others.

1. As this is a private and spiritual duty, so it is most convenient that thou retire to some private place : our spirits had need of every help, and to be freed from every hinderance in the work: and the quality of these circumstances, though to some they may seem small things, doth much conduce to our hinderance or our help. Christ himself thought it not vain to direct in this circumstance of private duty, Matt. vi. 4, 6, 18. If in private prayer we must shut our door upon us, that our Father may hear us in secret, so is it also requisite in this meditation. How oft doth Christ himself depart to some mountain, or wilderness, or other solitary place ! For occasional meditation I give thee not this advice, but for this daily set and solemn duty I advise that thou withdraw thyself from all society, yea, though it were the society of godly men, that thou mayst awhile enjoy the society of Christ: if a student cannot study in a crowd, who exercises only his invention and memory, much less when thou must exercise all the powers of thy soul, and that upon an object so far above nature : when thy eyes are filled with the persons and actions of men, and thine ears with their discourse, it is hard then to have thy thoughts and affections free for this duty. Though I would not persuade thee to Pythagoras's cave, nor to the hermit's wilderness, nor to the monk's cell; yet T would advise thee to frequent solitariness, that thou mayst sometimes confer with Christ, and with thyself, as well as with others. We are fled so far from the solitude of superstition, that we have cast off the solitude of contemplative devotion. Friends use to converse most familiarly in private, and to open their secrets and

let out their affections most freely. Public converse is but common converse, l^se, therefore, as Christ himself didj Mark i. '35, to depart sometimes into a solitary place, that thou mayst be wholly vacant for this great employment. See Matt. xiv. 23 ; Mark vi. 47 ; Luke ix. IS, 3G; John vi. 15, IG. We seldom read of God's appearing, by himself, or his angels, to any of his prophets or saints in a throng, but frequently when they were alone.

And as I advise thee to a place of retiredness, so also that thou observe more particularly, what place and posture best agreeth with thy spirit; whether within doors or without; whether sitting still or walking. I believe Isaac's example in this, also, will direct us to the place and posture which will best suit with most, as it doth with me, viz. his walking forth to meditate in the field at the eventide. And Christ's own example in the places forecited give us the like direction. Christ was so used to a solitary garden, that even Judas, when he came to betray him, knew where to find him, John xviii. 1,2. And though he took his disciples thither with him, yet did he separate himself from them for more secret devotions, Luke xxii. 41. And though his meditation be not directly named, but only his praying, yet it is very clearly implied, Matt, xxvi. 38, 39. His soul is first made sorrowful with the bitter meditations on his death and sufferings, and then he poureth it out in prayer, Mark xiv. 34. So that Christ had his accustomed place, and consequently accustomed duty, and so must we. Christ hath a place that is solitary, whither he retireth himself even from his own disciples, and so must we : Christ's meditations do go further than his thoughts, they affect and pierce his heart and soul, and so must ours. Only there is a wide difference in the object : Christ meditates on the suffering that our sins had deserved, that the wrath of his Father even passed through his thoughts upon all his soul : but the meditation that we speak of, is on the glory he hath purchased ; that the love of the Father, and the joy of the Spirit, might enter at our thoughts, and revive our affections, and overflow our souls. So that, as Christ's meditation was the sluice or floodgate, to let in hell to overflow his affections, so our meditation should be the sluice to let in heaven into our affections.

Sect. IX. So much concerning the time and place of this duty. I am next to advise thee somewhat concerning the preparations of thy heart. The success of the work doth much depend on the frame of thy heart. When man's heart had nothing in it that might grieve the Spirit, then was it the delightful habitation of his Maker. God did not quit his residence there, till man did repel him by unworthy provocations. There grew no strangeness, till the heart grew sinful, and too loathsome a dungeon for God to delight in. And w-ere this soul reduced to its former innocency, God would quickly return to his former habitation : yea, so far as it is renew'ed and repaired l)y the Spirit, and purged of its lusts, and beautified with his image, the liOrd will yet acknowledge it his own, and Christ will manifest himself unto it, and the Spirit will take it for his temple and residence. So far as the soul is qualified for

conversing with God, so far it doth actually, for the most part, enjoy him. Therefore, with all diligence keep thy heart, for from thence are the issues of life, Prov. iv. '23.

More particularly, when thou settest on this duty, First, Get thy heart as clear from the world as thou canst; wholly lay by the thoughts of thy business, of thy troubles, of thy enjoyments, and of every thing that may take up any room in thy soul. Get thy soul as empty as possibly thou canst, and so it may be the more capable of being filled with God. It is a work, as I have said, that will require all the powers of thy soul, if they were a thousand times more capacious and active than they are ; and therefore you have need to lay by all other thoughts and affections, while you are busied here. If thou couldst well perform some outward duty with a piece of thy heart, while the other is absent, yet this above all I am sure thou canst not. Surely, if thou once address thyself to the business indeed, thou wilt be as the covetous man at the heap of gold, that when he might take as much as he could carry away, lamented that he was able to bear no more. So when thou shalt get into the mount in contemplation, thou wilt find there as much of God and glory, as thy narrow heart is able to contain; and almost nothing to hinder thy full possession, but only the uncapa-bleness of thy own spirit. Oh then (wilt thou think) that this understanding were larger, that I might conceive more ! that these affections were wider, to contain more ! it is more my own unfitness than any thing else, which is the cause that even this place is not my heaven ! God is in this place, and I know it not. This mount is full of the angels of God, but mine eyes are shut, and cannot see them. Oh the words of love that Christ hath to speak ! Oh the wonders of love that he hath to show ! But, alas! I cannot bear them yet: heaven is here ready at hand for me, but my un-capable heart is unready for heaven ! Thus wouldst thou lament, that the deadness of thy heart doth hinder thy joys; even as a sick man is sorry that he wants a stomach when he sees a feast before him.

Therefore, reader, seeing it is much in the capacity and frame of thy heart, how much thou shalt enjoy of God in this contemplation, be sure that all the room thou hast be empty ; and, if ever, seek him here with all thy soul : thrust not Christ into the stable and the manger, as if thou hadst better guests for the chiefest rooms. Say to all thy worldly business and thoughts, as Christ to his disciples, " Sit you here, while I go and pray yonder," Matt. xxvi. 36. Or, as Abraham, when he went to sacrifice Isaac, left his servant and ass below the mount, saying, " Stay you here, and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you ;" so say thou to all thy w^orldly thoughts, " Abide you below, while I go up to Christ, and then I will return to you again." Yea, as God did terrify the people Avith his threats of death, if any one should dare to come to the mount, when Moses v.'as to receive the law from God ; so do thou terrify thy own heart, and use violence against thy intruding thoughts, if they offer to accompany thee to

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the mount of contemplation. Even as the priests thrust Uzziah the king out of the temple, where he presumed to burn incense, when they saw the leprosy to arise upon him ; so do thou thrust these thoughts from the temple of thy heart, which have the badge of God's prohibition upon them. As you will beat back your dogs, yea, and leave your servants behind you, when yourselves are admitted into the prince's presence, so also do by these. Yourselves may be welcome, but such followers may not.

Sect. X. 2. Be sure thou sot upon this work with the greatest seriousness that possibly thou canst. Customariness here is a killing sin. There is no trifling in holy things : God will be sanctified of all that draw near him. These spiritual, excellent, soul-raising duties arc the most dangerous, if we miscarry in them, of all. The more they advance the soul, being well used, the more they destroy it, being used unfaithfully : as the best meats corrupted, are the worst. To help thee therefore to be serious when thou settest on this work ; First, Labour to have the deepest apprehensions of the presence of God, and of the incomprehensible greatness of the Majesty which thou approachest. If Rebecca veil her face at her appproach to Isaac ; if Esther must not draw near till the king hold forth the sceptre ; if dust and worms'-meat must have such respect, think, then, with what reverence thou shouldst approach thy jMaker : think thou art addressing thyself to Him that made the worlds with the word of his mouth; that upholds the earth as in the palm of his hand ; that keeps the sun, and moon, and heaven, in their courses ; that bounds the raging sea with the sands, Jer. v. 22, and saith, " Hitherto go, and no further:" thou art going about to converse with Him, before whom the earth will quake, and devils tremble ; before whose bar thou must shortly stand, and all the world with thee, to receive their doom. O think, I shall then have lively apprehensions of his majesty ; my drowsy spirits will then be awakened, and my stupid irreverence be laid aside : why should I not now be roused with a sense of his greatness, and the dread of his name possess my soul ?

Secondly, Labour to apprehend the greatness of the work which thou attemptest, and to be deeply sensible both of its weight and height, of its concernment and excellency. If thou wert pleading for thy life at the bar of a judge, thou wouldst be serious ; and yet that w^ere but a trifle to this : if thou wert engaged in such a work as David was against Goliath, whereon the kingdom's deliverance did depend, in itself considered, it were nothing to this. Suppose thou wert going to such a wrestling as Jacob's; suppose thou wert going to see the sight which the three disciples saw in the mount; how seriously, how reverently wouldst thou both approach and behold ! If the sun do suffer any notable eclipse, how seriously do all run out to see it! If some angel from heaven should but appoint to meet thee, at the same time and place of thy contemplations, how^ dreadfully, how apprehensively, wouldst thou go to meet him ! Why, consider then with what a spirit thou shouldst meet the Lord, and with what seriousness and dread thou shouldst daily

converse with him : when Manoah had seen but an angel, he cries out, " We shall surely die, because we have seen God," Judg. xiii. 22.

Consider also the blessed issue of the work: if it do succeed, it will be an admission of thee into the presence of God; a beginning of thy eternal glory on earth ; a means to make thee live above the rate of other men, and admit thee into the next room to the angels themselves; a means to make thee both live and die both joyfully and blessedly : so that the prize being so great, thy preparation should be answerable. There is none on earth that live such a life of joy and blessedness as those that are acquainted with this heavenly conversation. The joys of all other men are but like a child's play, a fool's laughter; as a dream of health to the sick, or as a fresh pasture to a hungry beast. It is he that trades at heaven that is the only gainer, and he that neglecteth it that is the only loser; and, therefore, how seriously should this work be done I

CHAPTER VIII.

OF CONSIDERATION, THE INSTRUMENT OF THIS WORK; AND WHAT FORCE IT HATH TO MOVE THE SOUL.

Sect. I. Having showed thee how thou must set upon this work, I come now to direct thee in the work itself, and to show thee the way which thou must take to perform it. All this has been but-to set the instrument (thy heart) in tune, and now we are come to the music itself: all this hath been but to get thee an appetite ; it follows now that thou approach unto the feast ; that thou sit down and take what is offered, and delight thy soul as with marrow and fatness. Whoever you are that are children of the kingdom, I have this message to you from the Lord; " Behold, the dinner is prepared ; the oxen and failings are killed : come, for all things are now ready," Matt. xxii. 4; Luke xiv. 17. Heaven is before you ; Christ is before you ; the exceeding, eternal weight of glory is before you ; come, therefore, and feed upon it. Do not make light of this invitation. Matt. xxii. 5, nor put off your own mercies with excuses, Luke xiv. 18; whatever thou art, rich or poor, though in alms-houses or hospitals, though in highways or hedges, my commission is, if possible, to compel you to come in : " And blessed is he that eateth bread in the kingdom of God," Luke xiv. 15. The manna lieth about your tents ; walk forth into the wilderness, gather it up, take it home, and feed upon it. So that the remaining work is only to direct you how to use your understandings for the warming of your affections, and to fire your hearts by the help of your heads ; and herein it will be necessary that I observe this method: First, To show you what instrument it is that you nmst w^ork by. Secondly, Why and how this way of working is like to

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succcecl; and attain it.s end. Thirdly, What powers of the soul should here he acted, and what are the particular affections to be excited, and what objective considerations are necessary thereto, and in what order you should proceed. Fourthly, By what acts you must advance to the height of the work. Fifthly, What advantages you must take, and what helps you must use, for the facilitating your success. Sixthly, Ifi what particulars you must look narrowly to your hearts through the whole. And I will be the briefer in all, lest you shoidd lose my meaning in a crowd of words, or your thoughts be carried from the work itself, by an over-long and tedious explication of it.

Sect. II. I. The great instrument that this work is done by, is ratiocination, reasoning the case with yourselves, discourse of mind, cogitation, or thinking ; or, if you will, call it consideration. I here suppose you to know the things to be considered, and therefore shall wholly pass over that meditation of students which tends only to speculation, or knowing. They are known truths that I persuade you to consider, for the grossly ignorant that know not the doctrine of everlasting life, are for the present uncapable of this duty.

Man's soul, as it receives and retains the ideas or shapes of things, so hath it a power to choose out any of these deposited ideas, and draw them forth, and act upon them again and again; even as a sheep can fetch up his meat for rumination: or otherwise nothing would affect us but while the sense is receiving it, and so we should be somewhat below the brutes. This is the power that here you must use. To this choice of ideas or subjects for your cogitations, there must necessarily concur the act of the will, which indeed must go along in the whole work ; for this must be a voluntary, not a forced cogitation. Some men do consider whether they will or no, and are not able to turn away thejr own thoughts: so will God make the wicked consider of their sins, when he shall set them all in order before them, Psal. 1. 21, 22; and so shall the damned consider of heaven, and of the excellency of Christ whom they once despised, and of the eternal joys which they have foolishly lost. But this forced consideration is not that I mean, but that which thou dost willingly and purposely choose : but though the will be here requisite, yet still consideration is the instrument of the work.

Sect. III. 2. Next, let us see what force consideration hath for the moving the affections, and for the powerful imprinting of things in the heart.

Why, First, Consideration doth, as it were, open the door between the head and the heart: the understanding having received truths, lays them up in the memory ; now, consideration is the conveyer of them from thence to the affections. There are few men of so weak understanding or memory, but they know and can remember that which would strangely work upon them, and make great alterations in their spirits, if they were not locked up in their brain, and if they could but convey them down to their heart : now,

this is the great work of consideration. Oh what rare men would they be, who have strong heads, and much learning and knowledge, if the obstructions between the head and the heart were but opened, and their affections did but correspond to their understanding ! Why, if they would but bestow as much time and pains in studying the goodness and the evil of things, as they bestow in studying the truth and falsehood of enunciations, it were the readiest way to obtain this. He is usually the best scholar, who hath the most quick, clear, and tenacious apprehension; but he is usually the best Christian, who hath the deepest, piercing, and affecting apprehension. He is the best scholar who hath the readiest passage from the ear to the brain; but he is the best Christian who hath the readiest passage from the brain to the heart; now, consideration is that on our parts that must open the passage, though the Spirit open as the principal cause : inconsiderate men are stupid and senseless.

Sect. IV. Secondly, Matters of great weight, which do nearly concern us, are aptest to work most effectually upon the heart; now, meditation draweth forth these working objects, and presents them to the affections in their worth and weight: the most delectable object doth not please him that sees it not; nor doth the joy fullest news affect him that never hears it; now, consideration presents before us those objects that were as absent, and brings them to the eye and the ear of the soul. Are not Christ, and glory, think you, affecting objects ? Would not they work wonders upon the soul, if they were but clearly discovered; and strangely transport us, if our apprehensions were any whit answerable to their worth ? Why, by consideration it is that they are presented to us: this is the prospective glass of the Christian, by which he can see from earth to heaven.

Sect. V. 3. As consideration draweth forth the weightiest objects, so it presenteth them in the most affecting way, and presseth them home with enforcing arguments. Man is a rational creature, and apt to be moved in a reasoning way, especially when reasons are evident and strong: now, consideration is a reasoning the case with a man's own heart; and what a multitude of reasons, both clear and weighty, are always at hand for to work upon the heart! When a believer would reason his heart to this heavenly work, how many arguments do offer themselves ! From God, from the Redeemer, from every one of the Divine attributes, from our former estate, from our present estate, from promises, from seals, from earnest, from the evil we now suffer, from the good we partake of, from hell, from heaven; every thing doth offer itself to promote our joy. Now, meditation is the hand to draw forth all these : as when you are weighing a thing in the balance, you lay on a little more, and a little more, till it weigh down ; so if your affections do hang in a dull indifferency, why, due meditation will add reason after reason, till the scales do turn: or, as when you are buying any thing of necessity for your use, you bid a little more, and a little more, till at last you come to the seller's price; so when medita-

Chap. Vlll. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. .073

lion is persuading you to joy, it will first bring one reason, and then another, till it hav(; silenced all your distrust and sorrows, and your cause to rejoice lies plain before you. If another man's reasons will work so powerfully with us, though we are uncertain whether his heart do concur with his speeches, and whether hiM intention be to inform us or deceive us; how much more should our own reasons work with us, when we are acquainted with the right intentions of our own hearts ! Nay, how much more rather should God's reasons work with us, which we are sure are neither fallacious in his intent, nor in themselves, seeing he did never yet deceive, nor was ever deceived! ^V hy, now, meditation is but the reading over and repeating God's reasons to our hearts, and so disputing with ourselves in his arguments and terms. And is not this then likely to be a prevailing way '{ What reasons doth the prodigal plead with himself, why he should return to his father's house ! And as many and strong have we to plead with our atfections, to persuade them to our Father's everlasting habitations; and by consideration it is that they must all be set a-work.

Sect. VI. 4. Meditation puts reason in its authority and preeminence. It helpeth to deliver it from its captivity to the senses, and setteth it again upon the throne of the soul. When reason is silent, it is usually subject; for when it is asleep the senses domineer. Now, consideration awakeneth our reason from its sleep, till it rouse up itself, as Samson, and break the bonds of sensuality wherewith it is fettered; and then, as a giant refreshed with wine, it bears down the delusions of the flesh before it. What strength can the lion put forth when he is asleep ? What is the king more than another man, when he is once deposed from his throne and authority ? When men have no better judge than the flesh, or when the joys of heaven go no further than their fantasies, no wonder if they w^ork but as common things. Sweet things to the eye, and beautiful things to the ear, will work no more than bitter and deformed; every thing worketh in its own place, and every sense hath its proper object. Now, it is spiritual reason, excited by meditation, and not the fantasy or fleshly sense, which must savour and judge of these superior joys. Consideration exalteth the objects of faith, and disgraceth comparatively the objects of sense. The most inconsiderate men are the most sensual men. It is too easy and ordinary to sin against knowledge ; but against .sober, strong, continued consideration, men do more seldom oifend.

Sect. VII. 5. Meditation also putteth reason into his strength. Reason is at the strongest when it is most in action. Now, meditation produceth reason into act. Before, it was a- standing water, which can move nothing else when itself moveth not; but now it is as the speedy stream which violently bears down all before it. Before, it was as the still and silent air, but now it is as the powerful motion of the wind, and overthrows the opposition of the flesh and the devil. Before, it was as the stones which lay still in the brook ; but now, when meditation doth set it to work, it is as the stone out of David's sling, which smites the Goliath of our unbelief

in the forehead. As wicked men continue wicked, not because they have not reason in the principle, but because they bring it not into act and use ; so godly men are uncomfortable and sad, not because they have no causes to rejoice, nor because they have not reason to discern those causes, but because they let their reason and faith lie asleep, and do not labour to set them a-going, nor stir them up to action by this work of meditation. You know that our very dreams will deeply affect. What fears, what sorrows, what joy, will they stir up ! How much more, then, would serious meditation affect us !

Sect. VIII. 6. Meditation can continue this discursive employment. That may be accomplished by a weaker motion continued, which will not by a stronger at the first attempt. A plaster that is never so effectual to cure, must yet have time to do its work, and not be taken off as soon as it is on. Now, meditation doth hold the plaster to the sore ; it holdeth reason and faith to their works, and bloweth the fire till it thoroughly burn. To run a few steps will not get a man heat, but walking an hour together may. So, though a sudden occasional thought of heaven will not raise our affections to any spiritual heat, yet meditation can continue our thoughts, and lengthen our walk till our hearts grow warm.

And thus you see what force meditation or consideration hath for the effecting of this great elevation of the soul, whereto I have told you it must be the instrument.

CHAPTER IX.

WHAT AFFECTIONS MUST BE ACTED, AND BY WHAT CONSIDERATIONS AND OBJECTS, AND IN WHAT ORDER.

Sect. I. Thirdly, To draw the heart yet nearer to the work. The third thing to be discovered to you is, what powers of the soul must here be acted; what affections excited; what considerations of their objects are necessary thereto; and in what order we must proceed. I join all these together, because, though in themselves they are distinct things, yet, in the practice, they all concur to the same action.

The matters of God which we have to think on, have their various qualifications, and are presented to the soul of man in divers relative and modal considerations. According to the several considerations of the objects, the soul itself is distinguished into its several faculties, powers, and capacities; that as God hath given man five senses to partake of the five distinct excellences of the objects of sense, so he hath diversified the soul of man, either into faculties, powers, or ways of acting, answerable to the various qualifications and considerations of himself and the inferior objects of this soul. And as, if there be more sensible excellences in the creatures, yet they are unknown to us who have but these five

senses to disceni them by ; so whatever other excellences are in God and our happiness, more than these faculties or powers of the soul can apprehend, must needs remain wholly unknown to us, till our souls have senses, as it were, suitable to those objects, even as it is knownJo a tree or a stone, what sound, and light, and sweetness are, or that there are any such things in the world at all.

Now, these matters of God are primarily diversified to our consideration, under the distinction of true ancl good : accordingly, the primary distinction concerning the soul, is into the faculties of understanding and will; the former having truth for its object, and the latter goodness. This truth is sometimes known by evident demonstration, and so it is the object of that we call knowledge, which also admits of divers distinctions, according to several ways of demonstration, which I am loth here to puzzle you with. Sometimes it is received from the testimony of others, which receiving we call belief. When any thing else would obscure it, or stands up in competition with it, then we weigh their several evidences, and accordingly discover and vindicate the truth ; and this we call judgment. Sometimes by the strength, the clearness, or the frequency of the understanding's apprehensions, this truth doth make a deeper impression, and so is longer retained; which impression and retention we call memory. And as truth is thus variously presented to the understanding, and received by it; so also is the goodness of the object variously represented to the will, which doth accordingly put forth its various acts. When it appeareth only as good in itself, and not good for us, or suitable, it is not the object of the will at all; but only this enunciation, " It is good," is passed upon it by the judgment, and withal it raiseth an admiration at its excellency. If it appear evil to us, then we nill it: but if it appear both good in itself, and to us, or suitable, then it provoketh the affection of love. If the good thus loved do appear as absent from us, then it exciteth the passion of desire. If the good so loved and desired do appear possible and feasible in the attaining, then it exciteth the passion of hope, which is a compound of defire and expectation : when we look upon it as requiring our endeavour to attain it, and as it is to be had in a prescribed way, then it provokes the passion of courage or boldness, and concludes in resolution. Lastly, If this good be apprehended as present, then it provoketh to delight or joy. If the thing itself be present, the joy is greatest. If but the idea of it, either through the remainder or memory of the good that is past, or through the fore-apprehension of that which we expect, yet even this also exciteth our joy. And this joy is the perfection of all the rest of the affections, when it is raised on the full fruition of the good itself.

Sect. II. So that by this time I suppose you see, both what are the objects that must move our affections, and what powers of the soul apprehend these objects. You see also, I doubt not, what affections you must excite, and in what order it is to be done : yet, for your better assistance, I will more fully direct you in the several particulars.

1. Then you must, by cogitation, go to the memory, which is the magazine or treasure of the understanding; thence you must take forth those heavenly doctrines which you intend to make the subject of your meditation : for the present purpose, you may look over any promise of eternal life in the gospel, any description of the glory of the saints, or the very articles of the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. Some one sentence concerning those eternal joys, may afford you matter for many years' meditation; yet it will be a point of wisdom here, to have always a stock of matter in our memory, that so, when we should use it, we may bring forth out of our treasury things new and old. For a good man hath a good treasury in his heart, from whence he bringeth forth good things, Luke vi. 45 ; and out of this abundance of his heart he should speak to himself as well as to others. Yea, if we took things in order, and observed some method in respect of the matter, and did meditate, first on one truth concerning eternity, and then another, it would not be amiss. And if any should be barren of matter through weakness of memory, they may have notes or books of this subject for their furtherance.

Sect. III. 2. When you have fetched from your memory the matter of your meditation, your next work is to present it to your judgment. Open there the case as fully as thou canst, set forth the several ornaments of the crown, the several dignities belonging to the kingdom, as they are partly laid open in the beginning of this book. Let judgment deliberately view them over, and take as exact a survey as it can. Then put the question, and require a determination : Is there happiness in all this, or not ? Is not here enough to make me blessed ? Can he want any thing who fully possesseth God ? Is there any thing higher for a creature to attain ? Thus urge thy judgment to pass an upright sentence, and compel it to subscribe to the perfection of thy celestial happiness, and to leave this sentence as under its hand upon record. If thy senses should here begin to mutter, and to put in a word for fleshly pleasure or profits, let judgment hear what each can say. Weigh the arguments of the world and flesh in one end, and the arguments for the pre-eminence of glory in the other end, and judge impartially which should be preferred. Try whether there be any comparison to be made; which is more excellent, which is more manly, which is more satisfactory, and which more pure, which freeth most from misery, and advanceth us highest. And which dost thou think is of longer continuance ? Thus let deliberate judgment decide it, and let not flesh carry it by noise and by violence : and when the sentence is passed and recorded in thy heart, it will be ready at hand to be produced upon any occasion, and to silence the flesh in its next attempt, and to disgrace the world in its next competition.

Thus exercise thy judgment in the contemplation of thy rest; thus magnify and advance the Lord in thy heart, till a holy admiration hath possessed thy soul.

Sect. IV, 3. But the great work, which you may either premise, or subjoin to this, as you please, is, to exercise thy belief of the

truth of thy rost ; and that, hoth in rcspoct of the truth of the promise, and also the truth of tliy own interest and tith\ As unbelief doth cause the languishing of all our graces, so faith would do much to revive and actuate them, if it were l)ut revived and actuated itself; especially our belief of the verity of the Scripture, I conceive as needful to be exercised and confirmed, as almost any point of faith. But of this I have spoken in the second part of this book, whither I refer thee for some confirming arguments. Though few complain of their not believing Scripture, yet I conceive it to be the commonest part of unbelief, and the very root of bitterness, which spoileth our graces. Perhaps thou hast not a positive belief of the contrary, nor dost not flatly think that the Scripture is not the word of God : that were to be a downright infidel indeed. And yet thou mayst have but little belief that Scripture is God's word; and that both in regard of the habit and the act. It is one thing not to believe Scripture to be true, and another thing positively to believe it to be false. Faith may be idle, and suspend its exercise towards the truth, though it do not yet act against the truth. It may stand still, w^hen it goes not out of the way. It may be asleep, and do you little service, though it do not directly fight against you. Besides, a great deal of unbelief may consist with a small degree of faith. If we did soundly believe that there is such a glory, that within a few days our eyes shall behold it; oh, what passions would it raise within us, were we thoroughly persuaded that every word in the Scripture concerning the unconceivable joys of the kingdom, and the unexpressible blessedness of the life to come, were the very w'ord of the living God, and should certainly be performed to the smallest tittle ! Oh, what astonishing apprehensions of that life would it breed ! What amazing horror would seize upon our hearts, when we found ourselves strangers to the conditions of that life, and utterly ignorant of our portion therein ! What love, what longings, would it raise within us ! Oh, how it would actuate every affection ! How would it transport us with joy upon the least assurance of our title ! If I were as verily persuaded that I shall shortly see those great things of eternity promised in the word, as I am that this is a chair that I sit in, or that this is paper that I write on, would it not put another spirit within me ? Would it not make me forget and despise the world, and even forget to sleep, or to eat, and say, as Christ, " I have meat to eat that ye know not off John iv. 32. O sirs ! you little know what a thorough belief would work. Not that every one hath such affections who hath a true faith ; but thus would the acting and improvement of our faith advance us.

Therefore let this be a chief part of thy business in meditation. Produce the strong arguments for the truth of Scripture ; plead them against thy unbelieving nature ; answer and silence all the cavils of infidelity; read over the promises; study all confirming providences ; call forth thine own recorded experiences ; remember the Scriptures already fulfilled both to the church and saints in the former ages, and eminently to both in this present age, and those

2 p

that have heen fulfilled particularly to thee ; get ready the clearest and most convincing arguments, and keep them by thee, and frequently thus use them. Think it not enough that thou wast once convinced, though thou hast now forgot the arguments that did it. No ; nor that thou hast the arguments still in thy book, or in thy brain. This is not the acting of thy faith ; but present them to thy understanding in thy frequent meditations, and urge them home till they force belief. Actual convincing, when it is clear and frequent, will work those deep impressions on the heart, M'hich an old, neglected, forgotten conviction will not. Oh, if you would not think it enough that you have faith in the habit, and that you did once believe, but would be daily setting this first wheel a-going; surely all the inferior wheels of the aifections would more easily move. Never expect to have love and joy move when the foregoing grace of faith stands still.

And as you should thus act your assent to the promise, so also your acceptation, your adherence, your affiance, and your assurance. These are the four steps of application of the promise to ourselves. I have said somewhat among the helps to move you to get assurance, but that which I here aim at is, that you would daily exercise it. Set before your faith the freeness and the universality of the promise. Consider of God's offer, and urging it upon all; and that he hath excepted from the conditional covenant no man in the world; nor will exclude any from heaven who will accept of his offer. Study also the gracious disposition of Christ, and his readiness to entertain and welcome all that will come. Study all the evidences of his love, which appeared in his sufferings, in his preaching the gospel, in his condescension to sinners, in his easy conditions, in his exceeding patience, and in his urgent invitations. Do not all these discover his readiness to save? Did he ever yet manifest himself unwilling? Remember also his faithfulness to perform his engagements. Study also the evidences of his love in thyself; look over the works of his grace in thy soul: if thou do not find the degree which thou desirest, yet deny not that degree which thou findest; look after the sincerity more than the quantity. Remember what discoveries of thy state thou hast made formerly in the work of self-examination ; how oft God hath convinced thee of the sincerity of thy heart. Remember all the former testimonies of the Spirit, and all the sweet feelings of the favour of God, and all the prayers that he hath heard and granted, and all the rare preservations and deliverances, and all the progress of his Spirit in his workings on thy soul, and the disposals of providence, conducing to thy good ; the vouchsafing of means, the directing thee to them ; the directing of ministers to meet with thy state; the restraint of those sins that thy nature was most prone to. And though one of these considered alone, may be no sure evidence of his special love, which I expect thou shouldst try by more infallible signs, yet lay them all together, and then think with thyself whether all these do not testify the good-will of the Lord concerning thy salvation, and may not well be pleaded against thine unbelief. And whether thou mayst not conclude with Samson's mother, when her

CiiAP. IX. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. .Tii)

husband thought thoy should surely die, " If the Lord were pleased to kill us, he would not have received an offering at our hands ; neither would he have showed us all these things, nor would, as at this time, have told us such things as these," Judg. xiii. 22, 23.

Sect. V. 2. When thy meditation has thus proceeded about the truth of thy happiness, the next part of the work is to meditate of its goodness ; that when the judgment hath determined, and faith hath apprehended, it may then pass on to raise the affections.

1. The first affection to be acted is love ; the o])ject of it, as I have told you, is goodness. Here, then, here. Christian, is the soul-reviving part of thy work : go to thy memory, thy judgment, and thy faith, and from them produce the excellences of thy rest; take out a copy of the record of the Spirit in Scripture, and another of the sentence registered in thy spirit, whereby the transcendent glory of the saints is declared; present these to thy affection of love ; open to it the cabinet that contains the pearl; show it the promise, and that which it assureth. 'I'hou needest not look on heaven through a multiplying glass; open but one casement, that love may look in ; give it but a glimpse of the back parts of God, and thou wilt find thyself presently in another world; do but speak out, and love can hear; do but reveal these things, and love can see. It is the brutish love of the world that is blind; divine love is exceeding quicksightcd. Let thy faith, as it were, take thy heart by the hand, and show it the sumptuous buildings of thy eternal habitation, and the glorious ornaments of thy Father's house ; show it those mansions which Christ is preparing, and display before it the honours of the kingdom. Let faith lead thy heart into the presence of God, and draw as near as possibly thou canst, and say to it, Behold the Ancient of days; the Lord Jehovah, whose name is, I AM. This is he who made the worlds with his word; this is the Cause of all causes, the Spring of action, the Fountain of life, the First Principle of the creature's motions, who upholds the earth, who ruleth the nations, who disposeth of events, and sub-dueth his foes ; who governeth the depths of the great waters, and boundeth the rage of her swelling waves ; who ruleth the winds, and moveth the orbs, and causeth the sun to run its race, and the several planets to know their courses. This is he that loved thee from everlasting, that formed thee in the womb, and gave thee this soul; who brought thee forth, and showed thee the light, and ranked thee with the chiefest of his earthly creatures; who endued thee with thy understanding, and beautified thee with his gifts; who maintaineth thee with life, and health, and comforts ; who gave thee thy preferments, and dignified thee with thy honours, and differenced thee from the most miserable and vilest of men. Here, O here, is an object, now, worthy thy love ; here shouldst thou even put out thy soul in love ; here thou mayst be sure thou canst not love too much. This is the Lord that hath blessed thee with his benefits ; that hath spread thy table in the sight of thine enemies, and caused thy cup to overflow, Psal. xxiii. 2 p 2

4, 5. This is he that angels and saints do praise, and the host of heaven must magnify for ever.

Thus do thou expatiate in the praises of God, and open his excellences to thine own heart, till thou feel the life begin to stir, and the fire in thy breast begin to kindle : as gazing upon the dusty beauty of flesh doth kindle the fire of carnal love; so this gazing on the glory and goodness of the Lord will kindle this spiritual love in thy soul. Bruising will make the spices odoriferous, and rubbing the pomander will bring forth the sweetness. Act therefore thy soul upon this delightful object; toss these cogitations frequently in thy heart, rul) over all thy affections with them, as you will do your cold hands till they begin to warm : what though thy heart be rock and flint, this often striking may bring forth the fire. But if yet thou feelest not thy love to work, lead thy heart further, and show it yet more : show it the Son of the living God, whose name is Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of peace, Isa. ix. 6 : show it the King of saints on the throne of his glory, who is the First and the Last, who is, and was, and is to come ; who liveth and was dead, and behold, he lives for evermore ; who hath made thy peace by the blood of his cross, and hath prepared thee, with himself, a habitation of peace: his oflace is to be the great peacemaker ; his kingdom is a kingdom of peace ; his gospel is the tidings of peace ; his voice to thee now is the voice of peace. Draw near and behold him : dost thou not hear his voice l Luke xxiv. 36—39. He that called Thomas to come near, and to see the print of the nails, and to put his finger into his wounds, He it is that calls to thee. Come near and view the Lord thy Saviour, and be not faithless, but believing, John xx. 27. Peace be unto thee, fear not, it is I, John xx. 19—21. He that calleth. Behold me, behold me, to a rebellious people that calleth not on his name, Isa. lix. 1, doth call out to thee a believer to behold him : he that calls to them who pass by, to behold his sorrow in the day of his humiliation. Lam. i. 12, doth call now to thee to behold his glory in the day of his exaltation : look well upon him ; dost thou not know him ? Why, it is He that brought thee up from the pit of hell: it is He that reversed the sentence of thy damnation ; that bore the curse which thou shouldst have borne, and restored thee to the blessing that thou hast forfeited and lost, and purchased the advancement which thou must inherit for ever : and yet dost thou not know him ? Why, his hands were pierced, his head was pierced, his sides were pierced, his heart was pierced, with the sting of thy sins, that by these marks thou mightest always know him. Dost thou not remember when he found thee lying in thy blood, and took pity on thee, and dressed thy wounds, and brought thee home, and said unto thee, " Live ?" Ezek. xvi. 6—9 ; Luke x. 30, &c. Hast thou forgotten since he wounded himself to cure thy wounds, and let out his own blood to stop thy bleeding ? Is not the passage to his heart yet standing open ? If thou know him not by the face, the voice, the hands, if thou know him not by the tears and bloody

Cii.\i>. IX. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. .081

sweat, yet look nearer, thou niayst know him by the heart; that hroken-hoalecl heart is his; that dead-revived heart is his; that soul-pitying, melting heart is his; doubtless, it can be none's but his. Love and compassion are its certain signatures ; this is He, even this is He, who would rather die than thou shouldst die, who chose thy life before his own, who pleads his blood before his Father, and makes continual intercession for thee. If he had not suifered, oh what luulst thou suffered! What hadst thou been, if he had not redeemed thee ! ^\'hilher hadst thou gone, if he had not recalled thee ! There was but a step between thee and hell, when he stepped in, and bore the stroke; he slew the bear, and rescued the prey, he delivered thy soul from the roaring lion. And is not here yet fuel enough for love to feed on? Doth not this loadstone snatch thy heart unto it, and almost draw it forth of thy breast ? Canst thou read the history of love any further at once .'' Doth not thy throbbing heart here stop to ease itself? And dost thou not, as Joseph, seek for a place to weep in ? Or do not the tears of thy love bedew these lines ? Go on then, for the field of love is lai-ge, it will yield thee fresh contents for ever, and be thine eternal work to behold and love : thou needest not then want work for thy present nieditation. Hast thou forgotten the time when thou wast weeping, and he wiped the tears from thine eyes ? when thou wast bleeding, and he wiped the blood from thy soul ? when pricking cares and fears did grieve thee, and he did refresh thee, and draw out the thorns ? Hast thou fox*-gotten when thy folly did wound thy soul, and^the venomous guilt did seize upon thy heart, when he sucked forth the mortal poison from thy soul, though therewith he drew it into his own ? I remember it is written of good Melancthon, that, when his child was removed from him, it pierced his heart to remember, how he once sat weeping with the infant on his knee, and how lovingly it wiped away the tears from his father's eyes; how then should it pierce thy heart to think how lovingly Christ hath wiped away thine ! Oh how oft hath he found thee sitting weeping, like Hagar, while thou gavest up thy state, thy friends, thy life, yea, thy soul for lost; and he opened to thee a well of consolation, and opened thine eyes also that thou mightest see it! Gen. xxi. 15—19. How oft hath he found thee in the posture of Elias, sitting down under the tree forlorn and solitary, and desiring rather to die than to live ; and he hath spread thee a table of relief from heaven, and sent thee away refreshed, and encouraged to his work \ I Kings xix. 9. How oft hath he found thee in the trouble of the servant of Elisha, crying out, " Alas ! what shall we do, for an host doth compass the city ?" 2 Kings vi. 15—17 ; and he hath opened thine eyes to see more for thoe than against thee, both in regard of the enemies of thy soul and thy body. How oft hath he found thee in such a passion as Jonas, in thy peevish frenzy, weary of thy life ! and he hath not answered passion with passion, though he might, indeed, have done well to be angry, but hath mildly reasoned thee out of thy madness, and said, " Dost thou well to be angry, or to repine against me ?"

How oft hath he set thee on watching and praying, on repenting and believing, and when he hath returned, hath found thee fast asleep, Matt. xiv. 37 ; Luke xxii. 45, 46; and yet he hath not taken thee at the worst, but instead of an angry aggravation of thy fault, he hath covered it over with the mantle of love, and prevented thy over-much sorrow with a gentle excuse, " The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak !" Matt.*xxvi. 41. He might have done by thee as Epaminondas by his soldier, who, finding him asleep upon the watch, ran him through with his sword, and said, " Dead I found thee, and dead I leave thee :" but he rather chose to awake thee more gently, that his tenderness might admonish thee, and keep thee watching. How oft hath he been traduced in his cause, or name, and thou hast like Peter denied him, (at least by thy silence,) whilst he hath stood in sight ! yet all the revenge he hath taken, hath been a heart-melting look, and a silent remembering thee of thy fault by his countenance, Luke xxii. 61. How oft hath law and conscience haled thee before him, as the Pharisees did the adulterous woman, and laid thy most heinous crimes to thy charge ! and when thou hast expected to hear the sentence of death, he hath shamed away thy accusers, and put them to silence, and taken on him he did not hear thy indictment, and said to thee, " Neither do I accuse thee; go thy way, and sin no more."

And art thou not yet transported and ravished with love ? Can thy heart be cool when thou thinkest of this ? or can it hold when thou rememberesk those boundless compassions ? Rememberest thou not the time when he met thee in thy duties ; when he smiled upon thee, and spake comfortably to thee ? when thou didst sit down under his shadow with great delight, and when his fruit was sweet to thy taste ? when he brought thee to his banqueting-house, and his banner over thee was love ? when his left hand was under thy head, and with his right hand he did embrace thee ? And dost thou not yet cry out, " Stay me, comfort me, for I am sick of love ?" Cant. ii. 3—5. Thus, reader, I would have thee deal with thy heart; thus hold forth the goodness of Christ to thy affections. Plead thus the case with thy frozen soul, till thou say as David in another case, " My heart was hot within me; while I was musing the fire burned," Psal. xxxix. 3. If these forementioned arguments will not rouse up thy love, thou hast more, enough of this nature at hand. Thou hast all Christ's personal excellences to study ; thou hast all his particular mercies to thyself, both special and common; thou hast all his sweet and near relations to thee, and thou hast the happiness of thy perpetual abode with him hereafter : all these do offer themselves to thy meditation, with all their several branches and adjuncts. Only follow them close to thy heart, ply the work, and let it not cool. Deal with thy heart as Christ did with Peter when he asked thrice over, " Lovest thou me ?" till he was grieved, and answers, " Lord, thou knowest that I love thee," John xxi. 15—17. So say to thy heart, Lovest thou thy Lord? and ask it the second time, and urge it the third time;, Lovest thou thy Lord ?

till thou grieve it, and shame it out of its stupidity, and it can truly say. Thou knowest that 1 love him.

And thus I have showed you how to excite the affection of love.

Sect. VI. 2. The next grace or affection to be excited, is desire. The object of it is goodness, considered as absent, or not yet attained. This being so necessary an attendant of love, and being excited much by the same forementioned objective considerations, I suppose you need the less direction to be here added, and therefore 1 shall touch but briefly on this ; if love be hot, I warrant your desire will not be cold.

When thou hast thus viewed the goodness of the Lord, and considered of the pleasures that are at his right hand, then proceed on with thy meditation thus : think with thyself. Where have I been; what have I seen ? Oh the incomprehensible, astonishing glory ! Oh the rare, transcendent beauty ! O blessed souls that now enjoy it; that see a thousand times more clearly what I have seen but darkly at this distance, and scarce discerned through the interposing clouds ! What a difference is there betwixt my state and theirs ! I am sighing, and they are singing : I am sinning, and they are pleasing God: I have an ulcerated, cancerous soul, like the ^.oathsome bodies of Job or Lazarus, a spectacle of pity to those that behold me ; but they are perfect and without blemish : I am here entangled in the love of the world, when they are taken up with the love of God : I live indeed amongst the means of grace, and I possess the fellowship of my fellow believers ; but I have none of their immediate views of God, nor any of that fellowship that they possess. They have none of my cares and fears ; they weep not in secret; they languish not in sorrows ; these tears are wiped away from their eyes. O happy, a thousand times happy souls ! Alas ! that I must dwell in dirty flesh, when my brethren and companions do dwell with God ! Alas ! that I am lapt in earth, and tied as a mountain down to this inferior world, when they are got above the sun, and have laid aside their lumpish bodies ! Alas ! that I must lie, and pray and wait, and wait and pray, as if my heart were in my knees ; when they do nothing but love and praise, and joy and enjoy, as if their hearts were got into the very breast of Christ, and were closely conjoined to his own heart! How far out of sight and reach and hearing of their high enjoyments do I here live, when they feel them, and feed and live upon them ! What strange thoughts have I of God ! what strange conceivings ! what strange affections ! I am fain to superscribe my best services, as the blind Athenians, to the unknown God, when they are as well acquainted with him as men that live continually in his house; and as familiar in their holy praises, as if they were all one with him ! What a little of that God, that Christ, that Spirit, that life, that love, that joy, have I ! And how soon doth it depart and leave me in sadder darkness ! Now and then a spark doth fall upon my heart, and while I gaze upon it, it straight goes out; or rather, my cold, resisting heart doth quench it: but they have their light in his light, and live continually at the spring of joys. Here are we vex-

ing each other with quarrels, and troubling our peace with discontents, when they are one in heart and voice, and daily sound forth their hallelujahs to God with full delightful harmony and consent. Oh what a feast hath my faith beheld; and oh what a famine is yet in my spirit! I have seen a glimpse into the court of God, but, alas! I stand but as a beggar at the doors, when the souls of my companions are admitted in. O blessed souls ! I may not, I dare not envy your happiness : I rather rejoice in my brethren's prosperity, and am glad to think of the day when I shall be admitted into your fellowship ; but I cannot but look upon you as a child doth on his brother, who sits in the mother's lap while himself stands by, and wish that I were so happy as to be in your place ; not to displace you, but to rest there M'ith you. Why must I stay, and groan, and weep, and wait ? My Lord is gone, he hath left this earth, and is entered into his glory. My brethren are gone ; my friends are there ; my house, my hope, my all is there ! And must I stay behind to sojourn here ? What precious saints have left this earth ! of whom I am ready to say as Amerbachius, when he heard of the death of Zuingerus, Pi get me vivere post tan turn virum, ciijus magna fuit doctrina, sed exigua si cum pietate conferatur; It is irksome to me to live after such a man whose learning was so great, and yet compared with his godliness, very small. If the saints were all here, if Christ were here, then it were no grief for me to stay; if the Bridegroom were present, who would mourn ? But when my soul is so far distant from my God, wonder not what aileth me if I now complain; an ignorant Micah will do so for his idol, and shall not then my soul clo so for God ? Judg. xviii. 14. And yet if I had no hope of enjoying, I would go and hide myself in the deserts, and lie and howl in some obscure wilderness, and spend my days in fruitless wishes. But seeing it is the promised land of my rest, and the state that I must be advanced to myself, and my soul draws near, and is almost at it, I will love and long ; I will look and desire ; I will breathe out blessed Calvin's motto, Usquequo, Domine! How long, Lord, how long ! how long, Lord, holy and true, wilt thou suffer this soul to pant and groan ? and wilt not open and let him in, who waits and longs to be with thee ?

Thus, Christian reader, let thy thoughts aspire : thus whet the desires of thy soul by these meditations ; till thy soul long, as David's for the waters of Bethlehem, and say, Olvthat one would give me to drink of the wells of salvation ! 2 Sam. xxiii. 15 ; and till thou canst say as he," I have longed for thy salvation, O Lord," Psal. cxix. 174. And as the mother and brethren of Christ, when they could not come at him because of the press, sent to him, saying, " Thy mother and brethren stand without, desiring to see thee;" send thou up the same message; tell him thou standest here without desiring to see him ; he will own thee even in these near relations ; for he hath said, they that hear his word, and do it, are his mother and his brethren, Luke viii. 20, 21. And thus I have directed you in the acting of your desire after your rest.

Sect. VII. 3. The next affection to be acted is hope. This is of

singular use to the soul. It helpeth exceedingly to support it in sufferings ; it encouragoth to adventure upon the greatest difllcul-ties ; it lirndy estahlisheth it in the most shaking trials ; and it mightily enlivens the soul in duties ; and is the very spring that sets all the wheels a-going : who would preach, if it were not in hope to prevail with poor sinners for their conversion and confirmation { who woulTi pray, but for his hope to prevail with God .' who would believe, or obey, or strive, or suffer, or do any thing for heaven, if it were not for the hope that he hath to obtain it.'' Would the mariner sail, and the merchant adventure, if they had not hope of safety and success? \\'ould the husbandman plough, and sow, and take pains, if he had not hope of increase at harvest f Would the soldier fight, if he hoped not for victory ? Sure no man doth adventure upon known impossibilities. Therefore is it that they who pray merely from custom, or merely from conscience, considering it as a duty only, but looking for no great matters from God by their prayers, are generally formal and heartless therein ; whereas the Christian that hath observed the wonderful success of prayer, and as verily looks for benefit by it, and thriving to his soul in the use of it, as he looks for benefit by his labours, and thriving to his body in the use of his food, how faithfully doth he follow it, and how cheerfully go through it! Oh how willingly do we ministers study ; how cheerfully do we preach ; what life doth it put into our instructions and exhortations, when we have but hope that our labour will succeed ! When we discern a people attend to the word, and regard the message, and hear them inquire what they shall do, as men that are willing to be ruled by God, and as men that would fain have their souls to be saved; you Avould not think how it helpeth us, both for invention and expression ! Oh ! who can choose but pray heartily for, and preach heartily to, such a people ? As the sucking of the young one doth draw forth the milk, so will the people's desires and obedience draw forth the word : so that a dull people make dull preachers, and a lively people make a lively preacher. So great a force hath hope in all our duties. As hope of speeding increaseth, so doth diligence in seeking increase; besides the great conducenient of it to our joy. Even the false hope of the wicked doth much support, and maintain a kind of comfort answerable to their hope ; though, it is true, their hope and joy will both die with them : how much more will the saints' hopes refresh and support them ! All this I have said, to show you the excellency and necessity of this grace, and so to provoke you to the more constant acting of it. If your hope dieth, your duties die, your endeavours die, your joys die, and your souls die. And if your hope be not acted, but lie asleep, it is next to dead, both in likeness and preparation.

Therefore, Christian reader, when thou art winding up thy affections to heaven, do not forget to give one lift at thy hope ; remember to wind up this peg also. The object of hope hath four qualifications ; First, It must be good ; Secondly, Future ; Thirdly, Difficult; Fourthly, Yet possible. For the goodness of thy rest,

there is somewhat said before^ which thou mayst transfer hither as thou findest it useful; so also of the difficulty and futurity. Let faith then show thee the truth of the promise, and judgment the goodness of the thing promised; and what then is wanting for the raising of thy hope ? Show thy soul, from the word, and from the mercies, and from the nature of God, what possibility, yea, what probability, yea, what certainty thou hast of possessing the crown. Think thus, and reason thus, with thine own heart: Why should I not confidently and comfortably hope, when my soul is in the hands of so compassionate a Saviour; and when the kingdom is at the disposal of so bounteous a God ? Did he ever manifest any backwardness to my good, or discover the least inclination to my ruin ? hath he not sworn the contrary to me in his word, that he delights not in the death of him that dieth, but rather that he should repent and live ? Ezek. xviii. 32 ; xxxiii. 11. Have not all his dealings with me witnessed the same ? did he not mind me of my danger, when I never feared it ? and why was this, if he would not have me to escape it ? Did he not mind me of my happiness, when I had no thoughts of it ? and w^hy was this, but that he would have me to enjoy it ? How oft hath he drawn me to himself, and his Christ, when I have drawn backward, and would have broken from him ! what restless importunity hath he used in his suit! how hath he followed me from place to place ; and his Spirit incessantly solicited my heart, with winning suggestions and persuasions for my good! And would he have done all this, if he had been willing that I should perish ? If my soul were in the hands of my mortal foes, then, indeed, there were small hopes of my salvation; yea, if it were wholly in my own hands, my flesh and my folly would betray it to damnation. But have I as much cause to distrust God, as to distrust my foes, or to distrust myself? sure I have not. Have I not a sure promise to build and rest on, and the truth of God engaged to fulfil it ? would I not hope, if an honest man had made me a promise of any thing in his power ; and shall I not hope, when I have the covenant and the oath of God ? It is true, the glory is out of sight; we have not beheld the mansions of the saints : who hath ascended up to discover it, and descended to tell us what he had seen ? Why, but the word is near me : have I not Moses and the prophets, Christ and his apostles ? is not the promise of God more certain than our sight ? It is not by sight, but by hope, that we must be saved ; and hope that is seen is not hope ; for if we see it, why do we yet hope for it ? " But if we hope for what we see not, then do we with patience wait for it," Rom. viii. 24, 25. I have been ashamed of ray hope in the arm of flesh, but hope in the promise of God maketh not ashamed, Rom. v. 5. I will say, therefore, in my greatest sufferings, with the church, " The Lord is my portion, therefore will I hope in him. The Lord is good to them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him : it is good that I both hope, and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord. It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. I will sit alone and keep silence, because I have borne it upon me.

Cn.\r. 1\. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. ^y7

I will put my mouth in the dust, if so be there may be hope. For the Lord will not cast olT for ever; but though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the nmltitudo of his mercies," Lam. iii. 24, ice. Though I languish and die, yet will I hope; for he hath said, " The righteous hath hope in his death," Prov. xiv. 32. Though I must lie down in dust and darkness, yet there " my flesh shall rest in hope," Psal. xvi. 9. And when my flesh hath nothing in which it may rejoice, yet will I keep " the rejoicing of hope firm to the end," Heb. iii. 0. For he hath said, " The hope of the righteous shall be gladness," Prov. x. 28, Indeed, if I had lived still under the covenant of works, and been put myself to the satisfying of that justice, then there had been no hope ; but Christ hath taken down these impossibilities, and hath brought in a better hope, by which we may now draw nigh to God, Heb, vii, 19, Or, if I had to do with a feeble creature, there were small hope, for how could he raise this body from the dust, and lift me up above the sun .' But what is it to the Almighty power, who made the heavens and earth of nothing ? cannot the same power that raised Christ, raise me ; and that hath glorified the Head, also glorify the members ? Doubtless, by the blood of Christ's covenant will God send forth his prisoners from the pit wherein is no water ; therefore will I turn to this strong holcl, as a prisoner of hope, Zech. ix. 11, 12.

And thus you see how meditation may excite your hope. Sect. VHI. 4. The next affection to be acted is courage, or boldness, which leadeth to resolution, and concludeth in action. When you have thus mounted your love, and desire, and hope, go on, and think further thus with yourselves: And will God indeed dwell with men, and is there such a glory within the reach of hope ! Oh ! why do I not then lay hold upon it ? Where is the cheerful vigour of my spirit ? Why do I not gird up the loins of my mind, and play the man for such a prize ? Why do I not run with speed the race before me, and set upon mine enemies on every side, and valiantly break through all resistance ? Why do I not take this kingdom by force, and my fervent soul catch at the place ? Do I yet sit still, and heaven before me ? 1 Tim. vi. 12, 19 ; 1 Pet. i, 13; Heb. xii. 1 ; 1 Cor. ix. 24; Matt. xi. 12, If my beast do but see his provender, if my greedy senses perceive but their delightful objects, I have much ado to stave them off"; and should not my soul be as eager for such a blessed rest ? Why, then, do I not undauntedly fall to work ? What should stop me, or what should dismay me ? Is God with me or against me in the work .'' Will Christ stand by me, or will he not ? If it were a way of sin that leads to death, then I might expect that God should resist me, and stand in my way with the drawn sword of his displeasure; or at least overtake me to my grief at last. But is he against the obeying of his own commands ? Is perfect good against any thing but evil ? Doth he bid me seek, and will he not assist me in it .' Doth he set me a-work, and urge me to it, and will he after all be against me in it ! It cannot be. And if he be for me, who can be against

me? Rom. viii. 31. In the work (rf sin all things almost are ready to help us, and God only, and his servants, against us ; and how ill doth that work prosper in our hands ! But in my course to heaven, almost all things are against me ; but God is for me ; and how happily still doth the work succeed ! Do I set upon this work in my own strength, or rather in the strength of Christ my Lord; and cannot I do all things through him that strengtheneth me ? Was he ever foiled or subdued by an enemy ? He hath been assaulted indeed, but was he ever conquered ? Can they take the sheep till they have overcome the shepherd ? Why then doth my flesh lay open to me the difficulties, and urge me so much with the greatness and troubles of the work ? It is Christ that must answer all these objections ; and what are the difficulties that can stay his power ? Is any thing too hard for the omnipotent God ? May not Peter boldly walk on the sea, if Christ do but give the word of command; and if he begin to sink, is it from the weakness of Christ, or the smallness of his faith ? The water, indeed, is but a sinking ground to tread on ; but if Christ be by, and countenance us in it, if he be ready to reach us his hand, who would draw back for fear of danger ? Is not sea and land alike to him ? Shall I be driven from my God, and from my everlasting rest, as the silly birds are frighted from their food with a man of clouts, or a loud noise, when I know before there is no danger in it ? How do I see men daily in these wars adventure upon armies, and forts, and cannons, and cast themselves upon the instruments of death ; and have not I as fair a prize before me, and as much encouragement to adventure as they ? What do I venture ? My life at most; and in these prosperous times there is not one of many that ventures that. What do I venture on ? Are they not unarmed foes ? A great hazard, indeed, to venture on the hard thoughts of the world; or on the scorns and slanders of a wicked tongue ! Sure these serpents' teeth are out; these vipers are easily shaken into the fire; these adders have no stings; these thorns have lost their prickles. As all things below are silly comforters, so are they silly, toothless enemies; bugbears to frighten fools and children, rather than powerful, dreadful foes. Do I not well deserve to be turned into hell, if the scorns and threats of blinded men, if the fear of silly, rotten earth, can drive me thither ? Do I not well deserve to be shut out of heaven, if I will be frighted from it with the tongues of sinners ? Surely my own voice must needs condemn me, and my own hand subscribe the sentence, and common reason would say that my damnation were just. What if it were father, or mother, or husband, or wife, or the nearest friend that I have in the world, if they may be called friends that would draw me to damnation, should I not run over all that would keep me from Christ ? Will their friendship countervail the enmity of God, or be any comfort to my condemned soul ? Shall I be yielding and pliable to the desires of men, and only harden myself against the Lord ? Let men, let angels beseech me upon their knees, I will slight their tears, I will scorn to stop my course to behold them, I will shut mine ears against their cries; let

them flatter, or let them frown, lot them draw forth tongues and swords against mo, I am resolved to break througli in the might of Christ, and to look upon tUem all as naked dust. If they would entice me with preferment, with the kingdoms of the world, I will no more regard them than the dung of the earth. O blessed rest! O most invaluable, glorious state ! Who would sell thee for dreams and shadows i ^^'ho would be enticed or affrighted from thee ? "Who would not strive, and fight, and watch, and run, and that with violence, even to the last breath, so he might but have hope at last to obtain thee ! Surely, none but those that know thee not, and believe not thy glory. Thus you see with what kind of meditations you may excite your courage, and raise your resolutions.

Sect. IX. 5. The last affection to be acted is joy. This is the end of all the rest; love, desire, hope, and courage, do all tend to the raising of our joy. This is so desirable to every man by nature, and is so essentially necessary to the constituting of his happiness, that I hope I need not say much to persuade you to any thing that would make your life delightful. Supposing you, therefore, already convinced, that the pleasures of the flesh are brutish and perishing, and that your solid and lasting joy must be from heaven ; instead of persuading, I shall proceed in directing.

Well, then, by this time, if thou hast managed well the former work, thou art got within the ken of thy rest; thou believest the truth of it; thou art convinced of the excellency of it; thou art fallen in love with it; thou longest after it; thou hopest for it; and thou art resolved courageously to venture for the obtaining it: but is here any work for joy in this ? We delight in the good which we do possess. It is present good that is the object of joy; but thou wilt say, Alas ! I am yet without it! Well, but yet think a little further with thyself. Though the real presence do afford the choicest joy, yet the presence of its imperfect idea, or image in thy understanding, may afford me a great deal of true delight. Is it nothing to have a deed of gift from God ? Are his infallible promises no ground of joy .' Is it nothing to live in daily expectation of entering into the kingdom ? Is not my assurance of being glorified one of these days a sufKcient ground for inexpressible joy .' Is it no delight to the heir of a kingdom to think of what he must hereafter possess, though at present he little differ from a servant ? Gal. iv. 1. Am I not commanded to rejoice in hope of the glory of God? Rom. V. 2; xii. 12.

Here, then, reader, take thy heart once again, as it were, by the hand ; bring it to the top of the highest mount; if it be possible, to some atlas above the clouds. Show it the kingdom of Christ, and the glory of it. Say to it, All this will thy Lord bestow upon thee, who hast believed in him, and been a worshipper of him. It is the Father's good pleasure to give thee this kingdom. Seest thou this astonishing glory above thee ? Why, all this is thy own inheritance ; this crown is thine ; these pleasures are thine; this company, this beauteous place is thine; all things are thine, be-

cause thou art Christ's, and Christ is thine ; when thou wast married to him, thou hadst all this with him.

Thus, take thy heart into the land of promise, show it the pleasant hills and fruitful valleys; show it the clusters of grapes which thou hast gathered; and by those convince it that it is a blessed land, flowing with better than milk and honey : enter the gates of the holy city, walk through the streets of tllfe new Jerusalem, walk about Sion, go round about her, tell the towers thereof, mark well her bulwarks, consider her palaces, that thou mayst tell it to thy soul, Psal. xlviii. 12, 13. Hath it not the glory of God, and is not her light like to a stone most precious ? See the twelve foundations of her walls, and the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb therein. The building of the walls of it are of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as clear as glass. The foundation is garnished with precious stones, and the twelve gates are twelve pearls. Every several gate is of one pearl, and the street of the city is pure gold, as it were transparent glass; there is no temple in it, for the Lord God Almighty, and the Lamb, are the temple of it. It hath no need of sun or moon to shine in it, for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof, and the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it. These sayings are faithful and true, and the Lord God of the holy prophets hath sent his angels and his own Son, to show unto his servants the things that must shortly be done, Rev. xxi. 11—13, &c. to the end, and xxii. 6. What sayest thou now to all this ? This is thy rest, O my soul, and this must be the place of thy everlasting habitation. " Let all the sons of Sion then rejoice, and the daughters of Jerusalem be glad: for great is the Lord, and greatly is he praised in the city of our God: beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is mount Sion: God is known in her palaces for a refuge," Psal. xlviii. II, 1—3.

Yet proceed on : Anima qucs amat ascendit, &c. The soul, saith Austin, that loves, ascends frequently, and runs familiarly through the streets of the heavenly Jerusalem, visiting the patriarchs and prophets, saluting the apostles, admiring the armies of martyrs and confessors, &c. So do thou; lead on thy heart as from street to street, bringing it into the palace of the great King; lead it, as it were, from chamber to chamber; say to it. Here must I lodge, here must I live, here must I praise, here must I love, and be beloved ; I must shortly be one of this heavenly choir; I shall then be better skilled in the music. Among this blessed company must I take my place. My voice must join to make up the melody. My tears will then be wiped away, my groans turned to another tune. My cottage of clay will be changed to this palace, and my prison rags to these splendid robes. My sordid, nasty, stinking flesh shall be put off", and such a sun-like spiritual body put on. For the former things are done away. " Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God," Psal. Ixxxvii. 3. There it is that trouble and lamentation ceaseth, and the voice of sorrow is not

heard. Oh ! when I look upon this glorious place, what a dunghill and dungeon niethinks is earth. Oh ! what a difference hetwixt a man feeble, pained, groaning, dying, rotting in the grave, and one of these triumphant, blessed, shining saints ! Here shall 1 drink of the river of pleasure, " the streams whereof make glad the city of our God." " For the Lord will create a new Jerusalem and a new earth, and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind. We shall be glad and rejoice for ever in that which he creates: for he will create Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy : and he will rejoice in Jerusalem, and joy in his people, and the voice of weeping shall be no more heard in her, nor the voice of crying. There shall be no more thence an infant of days, nor an old man that hath not filled his days," Isa. Ixv. 17—20. Must Israel, on earth, under the bondage of the law, serve the Lord with joyfulness and gladness of heart, because of the abundance of all things which they possess ? sure, then, I shall serve him with joy-fulness and gladness, who shall have another kind of service, and of abundance in glory, Deut. xxviii. 47. Did the saints take joyfully the spoiling of their goods ? Heb. xi. 34; and shall not I take joyfully the receiving of my good, and such a full reparation of all my losses ? Was it such a remarkable, celebrated day, when the Jews rested from their enemies, because it was turned to them from sorrow to joy, and from mourning into a good day ? Esth. ix. 22. What a day, then, will that be to my soul, whose rest and change will be so much greater! When the wise men saw but the star of Christ, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy, Matt. ii. 10; but I shall shortly see the Star of Jacob, even himself who is the bright and morning Star, Numb. xxiv. 17 ; Rev. xxii. 16. If they returned from the sepulchre with great joy, when they had but heard that he was risen from the dead. Matt, xxviii. 8; what joy, then, will it be to me, when I shall see him risen and reigning in his glory, and myself raised to a blessed communion with him ! Then shall we have beauty for ashes indeed, and the oilof joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, Isa. Ixi. 3; when he hath made Sion an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations, Isa. Ix. 15.

Why do I not, then, arise from the dust, and lay aside my sad complaints, and cease my doleful, mourning note ? Why do I not trample down vain delights, and feed upon the foreseen delights of glory ? ^^ by is not my life a continual joy, and the savour of heaven perpetually upon my spirit ? And thus, reader, I have directed thee in acting thy joy.

Sect. X. Here also, when thou findest cause, thou hast a singular good advantage from thy meditations of heaven, for the acting of the contrary and more mixed passions : as,

1. Of thy hatred and detestation of sin which would deprive thy soul of these immortal joys.

2. Of thy godly and filial fear, lest thou shouldst either abuse or hazard this mercy.

3. Of thy necessary grief, for such thy foolish abuse and hazard.

4. Of thy godly shame, which should cover thy face for the fore-mentioned folly.

5. Of thy unfeigned repentance for what thou hast done against thy joys.

G. Of thy holy anger or indignation against thyself for "such miscarriage.

7. Of thy zeal and jealousy over thy heart, lest thou shouldst again he drawn to the like iniquity.

8. And of thy pity toward those who are ignorantly walking in the contrary course, and in apparent danger of losing all this.

But I will confine myself to the former chief affections, and not meddle with these, lest I be too prolix, but leave them to thy own spiritual prudence.

I v/ould here also have thee to understand that I do not place any flat necessity in thy acting of all the forementioned affections in this order at one time, or in one duty. Perhaps thou mayst sometimes feel some one of thy affections more flat than the rest, and so to have more need of exciting ; or thou mayst find one stirring more than the rest, and so think it more seasonable to help it forward ; or, if thy time be short, thou mayst work upon one affection one day, and upon another the next, as thou findest cause. All this I leave still to thy own prudence.

And so I have done with the third part of the direction, viz. what powers of the soul are here to be acted, what affections excited, by what objective considerations, and in what order.

CHAPTER X.

BY WHAT ACTINGS OF THE SOUL TO PROCEED IN THIS WORK OF HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION.

Fourthly, The fourth part of this directory is, to show you how and by what acts you should advance on to the height of this work.

Sect. I. The first and main instrument of this work is, that cogitation, or consideration, which I before have opened, and which is to go along with us through the whole. But because mere cogitation, if it be not pressed home, will not so pierce and affect the heart; therefore we must here proceed to a second step, which is called soliloquy, which is nothing but a pleading the case with our own souls. As in preaching to others, the bare propounding and opening of truths and duties, doth seldom find that success as the lively application; so it is also in meditating and propounding truths to ourselves. The moving, pathetical pleadings with a sinner, will make him deeply affected with a common truth, which before, though he knew it, yet it never stirred him. What heart-meltings do we see under powerful application, when the naked explication did little move them! If any where there be a tender-hearted.

Chai'. X. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. .003

aftVctionate poople, it is likoly under such a moving, close-applying ministry. W hy, tluis must thou do in thy meditation to quicken thine own heart: enter into a serious dehate with it ; plead with it in the most moving and allecting language ; urge it with the most weighty and powerful arguments : this soliloquy, or self-conference, hath been the practice of the holy men of God in all times, Gen. xlix. G; Judg. V. 21 ; Psal. xvi. 2; Jer. iv. 19. How doth David plead with his soul against its dejections, and argue it into a holy confidence and comfort ! " \Vhy art thou cast down, O my soul; and why art thou so disquieted within me? Trust in God, for I shall yet give him thanks, who is the health of my countenance, and my God," Psal. xlii. 5, 11 ; xliii. 5. So in Psal. ciii. 1,2, &c. " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits," &c. So doth he also end the Psalm, and so doth he begin and end Psal. civ.; so Psal. cxlvi. I ; and cxvi. 7, "Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee." The like you may see in the meditations of holy men of latter times, as Austin, Bernard, &c. : so that this is no new path which I persuade you to (read, but that which the saints have ever used in their meditation. Sect. n. This soliloquy hath its several parts, and its due method wherein it should be managed. The parts of it are according to the several affections of the soul, and according to the several necessities thereof, according to the various arguments to be used, and according to the various ways of arguing. So that you see if I should attempt the full handling hereof, it would take up more time and room than I intend or can allow it. Only thus,much in brief: As every good master and father of a family is a good preacher to his own family, so every good Christian is a good preacher to his own soul. Soliloquy is a preaching to one's self; therefore the very same method which a minister should use in his preaching to others, should a Christian use in speaking to himself. Dost thou understand the best method for a public preacher ? Dost thou know the right parts and order of a sermon; and which is the most effectual way of application ? Why then I need to lay it open no further ; thou understandest the method and parts of this soliloquy. Mark the most affecting, heart-melting minister; observe his course, both for matter and manner ; set him as a pattern before thee for thy imitation ; and the same way that he takes with the hearts of his people, do thou also take with thy own heart. Men are naturally addicted to imitation, especially of those whom they most affect and approve of: how near do some ministers come in their preaching to the imitation of others, whom they usually hear, and much reverence and value ! so mayst thou in this duty of preaching to thy heart. Art thou not ready sometimes when thou hearest a minister, to remember divers things which thou thinkest might be moving and pertinent, and to wish that he would have mentioned and pressed them on the hearers ! Why, remember those when thou art exhorting thyself, and press them on thy own heart as close as thou canst.

As, therefore, this is accounted the most familiar method in

1 Ex lication preaching, so it is for thee in meditating : First,

Explain to thyself the subject on which thou dost meditate, both the terms and the subject matter; study the diffi-

2 p. g. J culties, till the doctrine is clear. Secondly, Then

confirm thy faith in the belief of it, by the most clear, convincing Scripture reasons. Thirdly, Then apply it ac-

3 A licatiou cording to its nature and thy necessity. As in the

case we are upon, that there is a rest remaining for the people of God.

1. Use of informa- 1. Consider of the useful consectaries, or con-

tion. elusions, that thence arise, for the clearing and

confirming of thy judgment, which is commonly called a use of information. Here thou mayst press them also by other confirming arguments, and adjoin the confutation of the contrary errors.

2. Use of instruc- 2. Proceed then to consider of the duties which

tioi do appear to be such from the doctrine in hand,

which is commonly called a use of instruction; as also the reprehension of the contrary vices.

3 Of examination ^' 1"^^®^ proceed to question, and try thyself,

how thou hast valued this glory of the saints; how thou hast loved it; and how thou hast laid out thyself to obtain it. This is called a use of examination. Here thou mayst also make use of discovering signs, drawn from the nature, properties, effects, adjuncts, &c.

. „„ .. 4. So far as this trial hath discovered thy neg-

lect, and other sins against this rest, proceed to the reprehension and censuring of thyself; chide thy heart for its omissions and commissions, and do it sharply till it feel the smart: as Peter preached reproof to his hearers, till they were pricked to the heart and cried out; and as a father or master will chide the child till it begin to cry and be sensible of the fault ; so do thou in chiding thy own heart: this is called a use of reproof. Here also it will be very necessary that thou bring forth all the aggravating circumstances of the sin, that thy heart may feel it in its weight and bitterness ; and if thy heart do evade or deny the sin, convince it by producing the several discoveries.

5. So far as thou discoverest that thou hast been faithful in the duty, turn it to encouragement to thyself, and to thanks to God; where thou mayst consider of the several aggravations of the mercy of the Spirit's enabling thee thereto.

6. So, as it respects thy duty for the future, consider how thou mayst improve this comfortable doctrine, which must be by strong and effectual persuasion with thy heart. First, By way of dehort-ation from the forementioned sins. Secondly, By way of exhortation to the several duties. And these are either, first, internal, or secondly, external. First, therefore, admonish thy heart of its own inward neglects and contempts; Secondly, And then of the neglects and trespasses in thy practice against this blessed state of rest. Set home these several admonitions to the quick ; take thy

Chap. X. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. .09j

heart as to the brink of the bottomless pit; force it to look in ; threaten thyself with the threatenings of the word ; tell it of (he torments that it draweth upon itself; tell it what joys it is madly rejecting ; force it to promise thee to do so no more, and that not with a cold and heartless promise, but earnestly with most solemn asseverations and engagements. Secondly, The next and last is, to drive on thy soul to those positive duties, which are required of thee in relation to this rest: as. First, To the inward duties of thy heart: and there, First, To be diligent in making sure of this rest; Secondly, To rejoice in the expectation of it : this is called a use of consolation. It is to be furthered by first laying open the excellency of the state ; and secondly, the certainty of it in itself; and thirdly, our own interest in it; by clearing and proving all these, and confuting all saddening objections that may be brought against them. Thirdly, So also for the provoking of love, of hope, and all other the aifections in the way before more largely opened.

And, Secondly, Press on thy heart also to all outward duties that are to be performed in thy way to rest, whether in worship or in civil conversation, whether public or private, ordinary or extraordinary : this is commonly called a use of exhortation. Here bring in all quickening considerations, either those that may drive thee, or those that may draw; which work by fear, or which work by desire; these are commonly called motives : but above all, be sure that thou follow them home. Ask thy heart what it can say against the duty; is there weight in them, or is there not ? And then, what it can say against the duty; is it necessary; is it comfortable ; or is it not ? When thou hast silenced thy heart, and brought it to a stand, then drive it further, and urge it to a promise, as suppose it were to the duty of meditation, which we are speaking of; force thyself beyond these lazy purposes; resolve on the duty before thou stir; enter into a solemn covenant to be faithful: let not thy heart go, till it have, without all halting and reservanons, flatly promised thee, that it will fall to the work ; write down this promise, show it to thy heart the next time it loiters; then study also the helps and means, the hinderanccs and directions, that concern thy duty. And this is in brief the exercise of this soliloquy, or the preaching of heaven to thy heart.

Sect. III. Object. But perhaps thou wilt say. Every man cannot understand this method; this is ior ministers and learned men; every man is not able to play the preacher. I answer thee, First, There is not that ability required to this, as is to the work of public preaching : here thy thoughts may serve the turn, but there must be also the decent ornaments of language ; here is needful but an honest, understanding heart, but there must be a good pronunciation, and a voluble tongue : here if thou miss of the method, thou mayst make up that in one piece of application which thou hast neglected in another ; but there thy failings are injurious to many, and a scandal and disgrace to the work of God. Thou knowest what will fit thy own heart, and what arguments take best with 2 Q 2

thy own affections; but thou art not so well acquainted with the dispositions of others. Secondly, I answer further, Every man is bound to be skilful in the Scriptures as well as ministers; kings and magistrates, Deut. xvii. 18—20; Josh. i. 8; and the people also, Deut. vi. G—8. Do you think, if you did as is there commanded, write it upon thy heart, lay them up in thy soul, bind them upon thy hand and between thine eyes, meditate on them day and night; I say, if you did thus, would you not quickly understand as much as this? See Psal. i. 3 ; Deut. xi. 18; vi. 6—S. Doth not God command thee to teach them diligently to thy children; and to talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up ? And if thou must be skilled to teach thy children, much more to teach thyself; and if thou canst talk of them to others, why not also to thine o\vn heart ? Certainly, our unskilfulness and disability, both in a methodical and lively teaching of our families, and of ourselves, is for the most part merely through our own negligence, and a sin for which we have no excuse; you that learn the skill of your trades and sciences, might learn this also, if you were but willing and painful.

And so I have done with this particular of soliloquy.

Sect. IV. 2. Another step to arise by in our contemplation, is, from this speaking to ourselves, to speak to God: prayer is not such a stranger to this duty, but that ejaculatory requests may be intermixed or added, and that as a very part of the duty itself How oft doth David intermix these in his psalms, sometimes pleading with his soul, and sometimes with God, and that in the same psalm, and in the next verses ! The apostle bids us to speak to ourselves in psalms and hymns ; and no doubt we may also speak to God in them : this keeps the soul in mind of the Divine presence, it tends also exceedingly to quicken and raise it; so that as God is the highest object of our thoughts, so our viewing of him, and our speaking to him, and pleading with him, doth more elevate the soul, and actuate the affections, than any other part of meditation can do. Men that are careless of their carriage and speeches among children and idiots, will be sober and serious with princes or grave men: so, though while we do but plead the case with ourselves, we are careless and unaffected, yet when we turn our speech to God, it may strike us with awfulness ; and the holiness and majesty of him whom we speak to, may cause both the matter and words to pierce the deeper. Isaac went forth to pray, the former translation saith ; to meditate, saith the latter; the Hebrew verb, saith Paraeus in loc. signifieth both ad oranditm et meditan-dum. The men of God, both former and latter, who have left their meditations on record for our view, have thus intermixed soliloquy and prayer; sometimes speaking to their own hearts, and sometimes turning their speech to God : and though this may seem an indifferent thing, yet I conceive it very suitable and necessary, and that it is the highest step that we can advance to in the work.

Chap. X. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. .507

Object. But why then is it not as good to take up with prayer alone, and to save all this tedious work that you proscribe us .'

A/is/c. First, They are several duties, and therefore must be performed both. Secondly, We have need of one as well as the other, and therefore shall wrong ourselves in the neglecting of either. Thirdly, The mixture, as in music, doth more affect; the one helps on and puts life into the other. Fourthly, It is not the right order to begin at the top, therefore meditation and speaking to ourselves, should go before pi'ayer, or speaking to God; want of this, makes prayer with most to have little more than the name of prayer, and men to speak as lightly and as stupidly to the dreadful God, as if it were to one of their companions, and with far less reverence and ail'ection than they would speak to an angel, if he should appear to them, yea, or to a judge or prince, if they were speaking for their lives : and consequently their success and answers are often like their prayers. Oh ! speaking to the God of heaven in prayer, is a weightier duty than most are aware of.

Sect. V. The ancients had a custom, by apostrophes and proso-popcEias, to speak, as it were, to angels and saints departed, which, as it was used by them, I take to be lawful; but what they spoke in rhetorical figures, was interpreted by the succeeding ages to be spoken in strict propriety; and doctrinal conclusions for praying to saints and angels were raised from their speeches; therefore I will omit that course, which is so little necessary, and so subject to scandalize the less judicious readers.

And so much for the fourth part of the direction, by what steps or acts we must advance to the height of this work : I should clear all this by some examples, but that I intend shall follow in the end.

CHAPTER XI.

SOxME ADVANTAGES AND HELPS, FOR RAISING AND AFFECTING THE SOUL BY THIS MEDITATION.

Sect. I. Fifthly : The fifth part of this directory i. Fetch help from is, to show you what advantages you should take, sense.

and what helps you should use, to make your meditations of heaven more quickening, and to make you taste the sweetness that is therein. For that is the main work that I drive at through all; that you may not stick in a bare thinking, but may have the lively sense of all upon your hearts : and this you m ill find to be the most difficult part of the work ; and that it is easier barely to think of heaven a whole day, than to be lively and affectionate in those thoughts one quarter of an hour. Therefore let us yet a little further consider what may be done, to make your thoughts of heaven to be piercing, affecting, raising thoughts.

Here, therefore, you must understand, that the mere pure work of faith hath many disadvantages with us, in comparison of the work of sense. Faith is imperfect, for we are renewed but in part; but sense hath its strength, according to the strength of the flesh : faith goes against a workl of resistance, but sense doth not. Faith is supernatural, and therefore prone to declining, and to languish both in the habit and exercise, further than it is still renewed and excited ; but sense is natural, and therefore continueth while nature continueth. The object of faith is far off; we must go as far as heaven for our joys ; but the object of sense is close at hand. It is no easy matter to rejoice at that which we never saw, nor ever knew the man that did see it ; and this upon a mere promise which is written in the Bible ; and that when we have nothing else to rejoice in, but all our sensible comforts do fail us : but to rejoice in that which we see and feel, in that which we have hold of, and possession already, this is not difficult. Well, then, what should be done in this case ? why, sure it will be a point of our spiritual prudence, and a singular help to the furthering of the work of faith, to call in our sense to its assistance : if we can make us friends of these usual enemies, and make them instruments of raising us to God, which are the usual means of drawing us from God, 1 think we shall perform a very excellent work. Sure it is both possible and lawful, yea, and necessary too, to do something in this kind: for God would not have given us either our senses themselves, or their usual objects, if they might not have been serviceable to his own praise, and helps to raise us up to the apprehension of higher things : and it is very considerable, how the Holy Ghost doth condescend in the phrase of Scripture, in bringing things down to the reach of sense ; how he sets forth the excellences of spiritual things in words that are borrowed from the objects of sense ; how he de-scribeth the glory of the new Jerusalem, in expressions that might take even with flesh itself: as that the streets and buildings are pure gold, that the gates are pearl, that a throne doth stand in the midst of it, &c. Rev. xxi. 22; that we shall eat and drink with Christ at his table in his kingdom ; that he will drink with us the fruit of the vine new; that we shall shine as the sun in the firmament of our Father: these, with most other descriptions of our glory, are expressed as if it were to the very flesh and sense ; which, though they are all improper and-figurative, yet doubtless if such expressions had not been best, and to us necessary, the Holy Ghost would not have so frequently used them : he that will speak to man's understanding, must speak in man's language, and speak that which he is capable to conceive. And, doubtless, as the Spirit doth speak, so we must hear; and if our necessity cause him to condescend in his expressions, it must needs cause us to be low in our conceivings. Those conceivings and expressions which we have of spirits, and things merely spiritual, they are commonly but second notions, without the first; but mere names that are put into our mouths, without any true conceivings of the things which they signify: or our conceivings which we express by those notions or

terms, are merely negative; what things are not, rather tlian what thoy are : as, when we mention spirits, we mean they are not corporal substances, hut what thoy are we can tell no more than we know what is Aristotle's " Materia Prima." It is one reason of Christ's assuming and continuing our nature with the Godhead, that we might know him the better, when he is so nmch nearer to us ; and we might have more positive conceivings of him, and so our minds might have familiarity with him, who before was quite beyond our reach.

i5ut what is my scope in all this ? is it that we might think heaven to be made of gold and pearl; or, that we should picture Christ as the papists do, in such a shape ; or, that we should think saints and angels do indeed eat and drink ? No ; not that we should take the Spirit's figurative expressions to be meant according to strict propriety ; or have fleshly conceivings of spiritual things, so as to believe them to be such indeed : but thus to think, that to conceive or speak of them in strict propriety, is utterly beyond our roach and capacity ; and therefore we must conceive of them as we are aljle ; and that the Spirit would not have represented them in these notions to us, but that we have no better notions to apprehend them by : and therefore that we make use of these phrases of the Spirit to quicken our apprehensions and affections, but not to pervert them ; and use these low notions as a glass, in which we must see the things themselves, though the representation be exceeding imperfect, till we come to an immediate perfect sight; yet still concluding, that these phrases, though useful, are but borrowed and improper. The like may be said of those expressions of God in Scripture, wherein he represents himself in the imperfections of creatures, as anger, repenting, willing what shall not come to pass, &c. Though these be improper, drawn from the manner of men, yet there is somewhat in God which we can see no better yet than in this glass, and which we can no better conceive of than in such notions, or else the Holy Ghost would have given us better.

Sect. II. 1. Go to, then, when thou settest thy- ]. Draw strong sup-self to meditate on the joys above, think on them po^it^'is from sense, boldly, as Scripture hath expressed them; bring down thy conceivings to the reach of sense. Excellency without familiarity doth amaze more than delight us; but love and joy are promoted by familiar acquaintance. When we go about to think of God and glory in proper conceivings, without these spectacles we are lost, and have nothing to fix our thoughts upon. We set God and heaven so far from us, that our thoughts are strange, and we look at them as things beyond our reach, and beyond our line, and are ready to .say, That which is above is nothing to us : to conceive no more of God and glory, but that we cannot conceive them, and to apprehend no more, but that they are past our apprehension, will produce no more love but this,—to acknowledge that they are so far above us that we cannot love them ; and no more joy l)ut this, —that they are above our rejoicing. And therefore put Christ no

farther from you than he hath put himself, lest the Divine nature be again inaccessible. Think of Christ as in our own nature glorified ; think of our fellow saints as men there perfected; think of the city and state as the Spirit hath expressed it, only with the cautions and limitations before mentioned. Suppose thou wert now beholding this city of God, and that thou hadst been companion with John in his survey of its glory ; and hadst seen the thrones, the majesty, the heavenly hosts, the shining splendour which he saw; draw as strong suppositions as may be from thy sense for the helping of thy affections. It is lawful to suppose we did see for the present, that which God hath in prophecies revealed, and which we must really see in more unspeakable brightness before long. Suppose, therefore, with thyself thou hadst been that apostle's fellow traveller into the celestial kingdom, and that thou hadst seen all the saints in their white robes, with palms in their hands ; suppose thou hadst heard those songs of Moses and of the Lamb ; or didst even now hear them praising and glorifying the living God. If thou hadst seen those things, indeed, in what a rapture wouldst thou have been ! And the more seriously thou puttest this supposition to thyself, the more will the meditation elevate thy heart. I would not have thee, as the papists, draw them in pictures, nor use such ways to represent them. This, as if is a course forbidden by God, so it would but seduce and draw down thy heart; but get the liveliest picture of them in thy mind, that possibly thou canst; meditate of them as if thou wert all the while beholding them, and as if thou wert even hearing the hallelujahs, while thou art thinking of them ; till thou canst say, Methinks I see a glimpse of the glory ; methinks I hear the shouts of joy and pi'aise; methinks I even stand by Abraham and David, Peter and Paul, and more of these triumphing souls ; methinks I even see the Son of God appearing in the clouds, and the world standing at his bar to receive their doom ; methinks I hear him say, " Come, ye blessed of my Father," and even see them go rejoicing into the joy of their Lord. My very dreams of these things have deeply affected me, and should not these just suppositions affect me much more ? What, if I had seen, with Paul, those unutterable things, should I not have been exalted, and that, perhaps, above measure, as well as he ? What, if I had stood in the room of Stephen, and seen heaven opened, and Christ sitting at the right hand of God ? Surely that one sight was worth the suffering his storm of stones. Oh that I might but see what he did see, though I also suffered what he did suffer! What if I had seen such a sight as Micaiah saw; the Lord sitting upon his throne, and all the hosts of heaven standing on his right hand and on his left ? Why, these men of God did see such things ; and I shall shortly see far more than ever they saw till they were loosed from this flesh, as I must be. And thus you see how the familiar conceiving of the state of blessedness, as the Spirit hath in a condescending language expressed it, and our strong raising of suppositions from our bodily senses, will further our affections in this heavenly work.

Chap. XI. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. GOl

Sect. III. 2. There is yet another way by which ^ compare objects -we may make our senses here serviceable to us, and of sense with objects that is, by comparing of the objects of sense with "'f"''"-the objects of faith ; and so forcing sense to afford us that medium, from whence we may conchide the transcendent worth of glory, by arguing from sensitive delights as from the less to the greater. And here, for your further assistance, I shall furnish you with some of these comparative arguments.

And, First, Vou must strongly argue with your hearts, from the corrupt delights of sensual men. Think, then, with yourselves when you would be sensible of the joys above : Is it such a delight to a sinner to do wickedly, and will it not be delightful, indeed, then to live with God .'' Hath a very drunkard such delight in his cups and his companions, that the very fears of damnation will not make him forsake them \ Hath the brutish whoremaster such delight in his whore, that he will part with his credit, and estate, and salvation, rather than he will part with her ? Sure, then, there are high delights with God. If the way to hell can aiford such pleasure, what are the pleasures of the saints in heaven! If the covetous man hath so much pleasure in his wealth, and the ambitious man in power and titles of honour, what then have the saints in the everlasting treasure ! and wdiat pleasure do the heavenly honours afford, whore we shall be set above principalities and powers, and be made the glorious spouse of Christ! What pleasure do the voluptuous find in their sensual courses ! How closely will they follow their hunting, and hawking, and other recreations, from morning to night! How delightfully will they sit at their cards and dice, hours and days and nights tog^^ther! Oh the delight that must needs then be in beholding the face of the living God, and in singing forth praises to him and the Lamb, which must be our recreation when we come to our rest!

Sect. IV. 2. Compare also the delights above with the lawful delights of moderated senses. Think with thyself, How sweet is food to my taste when I am hungry, especially, as Isaac said, that which my soul loveth, that which my temperature and appetite do incline to ! What delight hath the taste in some pleasant fruits, in some relished meats, and in divers junkets ! Oh, what delight, then, must my soul needs have in feeding upon Christ, the living bread, and in eating with him at his table in his kingdom ! Was a mess of pottage so sweet to Esau, in his hunger, that he w-ould buy them at so dear a rate as his birth-right ? how highly then should I value this never-perishing food ! How pleasant is drink in the extremity of thirst! The delight of it to a man in a fever, or other drought, can scarcely be expressed. It will make the strength of Samson revive. Oh, then, how delightful will it be to my soul to drink of that fountain of living water, which whoso drinks shall thirst no more ! So pleasant is wine, and so refreshing to the spirits, that it is said to make glad the heart of man: how pleasant, then, will that wine of the great marriage be ; even that wine which our water was turned into; that best wine, which will be kept till then !

How delightful are pleasing odours to our smell! How delightful is perfect music to the ear ! How delightful are beauteous sights to the ej^e; such as curious pictures; sumptuous, adorned, well-contrived buildings ; handsome, necessary rooms, walks, prospects ; gardens stored with variety of beauteous and odoriferous flowers ; or pleasant meadows, which are natural gardens ! O, then, think every time thou seest or rememberest these, what a fragrant smell hath the precious ointment which is poured on the head of our glorified Saviour, and which must be poured on the heads of all his saints, which will fill all the room of heaven with its odour and perfume ! How delightful is the music of the heavenly host! How pleasing will be those real beauties above, and how glorious the building not made with hands, and the house that God himself doth dwell in, and the walks and prospects in the city of God, and the beauties and delights in the celestial paradise ! Think seriously what these must needs be. The like may be said of the delight of the sense of feeling, which, the philosopher saith, is the greatest of all the rest.

Sect. V. 3. Compare also the delights above with the delights that are found in natural knowledge. This is far beyond the delights of sense, and the delights of heaven are farther beyond it. Think, then, can an Archimedes be so taken up with his mathematical invention, that the threats of death cannot take him off, but he will die in the midst of these his natural contemplations ? Should I not much more be taken up with the delights of glory, and die with these contemplations fresh upon my soul ? especially when my death will perfect my delights; but those of ilrchimedes die with him. What a pleasure is it to dive into the secrets of nature ; to find out the mysteries of arts and sciences ; to have a clear understanding in logic, physics, metaphysics, music, astronomy, geometry, &c. ! If we make but any new discovery in one of these, or see a little more than we saw before, what singular pleasure do we find therein ! Why, think then what high delights there are in the knowledge of God, and Christ, his Son. If the face of human learning be so beautiful, that sensual pleasures are to it but base and brutish, how beautiful then is the face of God ! When we light on some choice and learned book, how are we taken with it; we could read and study it day and night; we can leave meat and drink and sleep to read it. What delights then are there at God's right hand, where we shall know in a moment all that is to be known !

Sect. VI. 4. Compare also the delight above with the delights of morality, and of the natural affections. What delight had many sober heathens in the rules and practice of moral duties ! so that they took him only for an honest man who did well through the love of virtue, and not only for fear gf punishment. Yea, so highly did they value this moral virtue, that they thought the chief happiness of man consisted in it. Why think, then, what excellency there will be in that rare perfection which we shall be raised to in heaven; and in that uncreated perfection of God which we shall

Chap. X[. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G03

behold ! What sweetness is there in the exercise of natural love, whether to children, to parents, to yoke-fellows, or to friends ! The delight which a pair of special, faithful friends do find in loving and enjoying one another, is a most pleasing, sweet delight. It seemed to the philosophers to be above the delights of natural or matrimonial friendship, and I think it seemed so to David himself; so he concludes his lamentation for him : " I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan. Very pleasant hast thou been unto me ; thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women," 2 Sam. i. 2G. Yea, the soul of Jonathan did cleave to David. Even Christ himself, as it seemeth, had some of this kind of love ; for he had one disciple whom he especially loved, and who was wont to lean on his breast. Why think, then, if the delights of close and cordial friendship be so great, what delight we shall have in the friendship of the Most High ; and in our mutual amity with Jesus Christ; and in the dearest love and comfort with the saints ! Surely this will be a closer and stricter friendship than ever was betwixt any friends on earth. And these will be more lovely, desirable friends than any that ever the sun beheld ; and both our affections to our Father and our Saviour, but especially his affection to us, will be such as here we never knew : as spirits are so far more powerful than flesh, that one angel can destroy a host, so also are their affections more strong and powerful. We shall then love a thousand times more strongly and sweetly than now we can; and as all the attributes and works of God are incomprehensible, so is the attribute and work of love. He will love us many thousand times more than we even at the perfectest are able to love him. AN'hat joy, then, will there be in this mutual love !

Sect. Vn. 5. Compare also the excellences of heaven with those glorious works of the creation which our eyes do now behold. What a deal of wisdom, and power, and goodness, appeareth in and through them to a wise observer ! What a deal of the majesty of the great Creator doth shine in the face of this fabric of the world! Surely his works are great and admirable, sought out of them that have pleasure therein (Psal. xcii. 4, 5; cxi. 2; cxlv. 6—12 ; X. 7, 22; cxxxvi. 4—6, &c.; Job xxxvi. 24—26). This makes the study of natural philosophy so pleasant, because the works of God are so excellent. What rare workmanship is in the body of a man, yea, in the body of every beast, which makes the anatomical studies so delightful! What excellency in every plant we see ! in the beauty of flowers; in the nature, diversity, and use of herbs ; in fruits, in roots, in minerals, and what not! But especially if we look to the greater works; if we consider the whole body of this earth, and its creatures, and inhabitants; the ocean of waters, with its motions and dimensions; the variation of the seasons, and of the face of the earth ; the intercourse of spring and fall, of summer and winter; what wonderful excellency do these contain! Why think, then, in thy meditations, if these things, which are but servants to sinful man, are yet so full of mysterious worth; what, then, is that place where God himself doth dwell.

and is prepared for the just who are perfected with Christ! When thou walkest forth in the evening, look upon the stars how they gHsten, and in what number they bespangle the firmament: if in the day-time, look up to the glorious sun. View the wide-expanded, encompassing heavens, and say to thyself, What glory is in the least of yonder stars ! what a vast, what a bright, resplendent body hath yonder moon, and every planet! oh, what an unconceivable glory hath the sun! Why, all this is nothing to the glory of heaven! Yonder sun must there be laid aside as useless, for it would not be seen for the brightness of God. I shall live above all yonder glory; yonder is but darkness to the lustre of my Father's house. I shall be as glorious as that sun myself; yonder is but as the wall of the palace-yard; as the poet saith,

" If in heaven's outward courts such beauty be, "What is the gloiy which the saints do see !''

So think of the rest of the creatures. This whole earth is but my Father's footstool: this thunder is nothing to his dreadful voice : these winds are nothing to the breath of his mouth. So much wisdom and power as appeareth in all these; so much, and far much more greatness, and goodness, and loving delights, shall I enjoy in the actual fruition of God. Surely, if the rain which rains, and the sun which shines, on the just and unjust, be so wonderful; the Sun, then, which must shine on none but saints and angels, must needs be wonderful and ravishing in glory.

Sect. VIII. G. Compare the things which thou shalt enjoy above, with the excellency of those admirable works of providence which God doth exercise in the church and in the world. What glorious things hath the Lord wrought! and yet we shall see more glorious than these. Would it not be an astonishing sight to see the sea stand as a wall on the right hand and on the left, and the dry land appear in the midst, and the people of Israel pass safely through, and Pharaoh and his people swallowed up ? What if we should see but such a sight now ? If we had seen the ten plagues of Egypt, or had seen the rock to gush forth streams, or had seen manna or quails rained down from heaven, or had seen the earth open and swallovvr up the wicked, or had seen their armies slain with hailstones, with an angel, or by one another; would not all these have been wondrous, glorious sights ? But we shall see far greater things than these: and as our sights shall be more wonderful, so also they shall be more sweet: there shall be no blood nor wrath intermingled. We shall not then cry out as David, " Who can stand before this holy Lord God?" Would it not have been an astonishing sight to have seen the sun stand still in the firmament, or to have seen Ahaz's dial go ten degrees backward ? Why, we shall see when there shall be no sun to shine at all; we shall behold for ever a sun of more incomparable brightness. Were it not a brave life, if we might still live among wonders and miracles; and all for us, and not against us : if we could have drought or rain at our prayers, as Elias; or if we could call down fire from heaven

Chap. XI. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. GO.O

to destroy our enemies ; or raise the dead to life, as Elisha.; or cure the diseased, and speak strange languages, as the apostles? Alas ! these are nothing to the wonders which we shall see and possess with God; and all those wonders of goodness and love. We shall possess that pearl and power itself, through whose virtue all these works were done : we shall, ourselves, he the subjects of more wonderful mercies than any of these. Jonas was raised but from a three days' burial, from the belly of the whale in the deep ocean ; but we shall be raised from many years' rottenness and dust; and that dust exalted to a sun-like glory, and that glory perpetuated to all eternity. What sayest thou, Christian ? Is not this the greatest of miracles or wonders ? Surely, if we observe but common providences ; the motions of the sun, the tides of the sea, the standing of the earth, the warming it, the watering it with rain as a garden, the keeping in order a wicked, confused world, with multitudes the like ; they are all very admirable. But then to think of the Sion of God, of the vision of the Divine Majesty, of the comely order of the heavenly host; what an admirable sight must that needs be ! Oh what rare and mighty works have we seen in Britain ; what clear discoveries of an Almighty arm ; what magnifying of weakness; what casting down of strength; what wonders wrought by most improbable means ; what bringing to hell, and bringing back ; what turning of tears and fears into safety and joy; such hearing of earnest prayers, as if God could have denied us nothing that we asked ! AH these were wonderful, heart-rising works. But, oh ! what are these to our full deliverance; to our final conquest; to our eternal triumph; and to that great day of great things!

Sect. IX. 7. Compare also the mercies which thou shalt have above, with those particular providences which thou hast enjoyed thyself, and those observable mercies which thou hast recorded through thy life. If thou be a Christian indeed, I know thou hast, if not in thy book, yet certainly in thy heart, a great many precious favours upon record : the very remembrance and rehearsal of them is sweet; how much more sweet was the actual enjoyment! But all these are nothing to the mercies which are above. Look over the excellent mercies of thy youth and education, the mercies of thy riper years or age, the mercies of thy prosperity and of thy adversity, the mercies of thy several places and relations; are they not excellent and innumerable ? Canst not thou think on the several places thou hast lived in, and remember that they have each had their several mercies ; the mercies of such a place, and such a place; and all of them very rich and engaging mercies ? Oh ! how sweet was it to thee, when God resolved thy last doubts ; when he overcame and silenced thy fears and unl^elief; when he prevented the inconveniences of thy life, which thy own counsel would have cast thee into; when he eased thy pains ; when he healed thy sickness, and raised thee up as from the very grave and death; when thou prayedst and wept as Hezekiah, and saidst, " My days are cut off; I shall go to the gates of the grave ; I am

deprived of the residue of my years. I said, I shall not see the Lord, even the Lord in the land of the living: I shall hehold man no more with the inhabitants of the world. Mine age is departed and removed from me as a shepherd's tent: I have cut off, like a weaver, my life. He will cut me off with pining sickness : from day to day wilt thou make an end of me, &c. Yet did he, in love to thy soul, deliver it from the pit of corruption, and cast thy sins behind his back, and set thee among the living, to praise him as thou dost this day; that the fathers to the children might make known his truth. The Lord was ready to save thee, that thou mightest sing the songs of praise to him in his house all the days of thy life," Isa. xxxviii. 10—20. I say, were not all these most precious mercies ? Alas ! these are but small things for thee in the eyes of God; he intended thee far greater things than these, even such as these are scarce a taste of. It was a choice mercy, that God hath so notably answered thy prayers; and that thou hast been so oft and evidently a prevailer with him. But, oh! think, then, are all these so sweet and precious, that my life would have been a perpetual misery without them ? Hath his providence lifted me so high on earth, and his merciful kindness made me great ? How sweet, then, will the glory of his presence be; and how high will his eternal love exalt me; and how great shall I be made in communion with his greatness ! If my pilgrimage and warfare have such mercies, what shall I find in my home, and in my triumph ! If God will communicate so much to me while I remain a sinner, what will he bestow when I am a perfect saint! If I have had so much in this strange country, at such a distance from him ; Avhat shall I have in heaven in his immediate presence, where I shall ever stand about his throne !

Sect. X. 8. Compare the comforts which thou shalt have above, with those which thou hast here received in the ordinances. Hath not the written word been to thee as an open fountain, flowing with comforts day and night ? When thou hast been in trouble, there thou hast met with refreshing ; when thy faith hath staggered, it hath there been confirmed. What suitable scriptures hath the Spirit set before thee ! what seasonable promises have come into thy mind, so that thou mayst say with David, " If thy word had not been my delight, Ihad perished in my trouble !" Think, then, if the word be so full of consolations, what overflowing springs shall we find in God ! If his letters are so comfortable, what are the words that flow from his blessed lips, and the beams that stream from his glorious face ! If Luther would not take all the world for one leaf of the Bible, what would he take for the joys which it reveal-eth ! If the promise be so sweet, what is the performance ! If the testament of our Lord, and our charter for the kingdom, be so comfortable, what will be our possession of the kingdom itself! Think further, what delights have I also found in this word preached, when I have sat under a heavenly, heart-searching teacher; how hath my heart been warmed within me ; how hath he melted me, and turned my bowels ! methinks I have felt myself almost in

heaven : niethinks I could have Loen content to have sat and heard froni morning to night; I could even have lived and died there. I low oft have I gone to the congregation troubled in spirit, and returned home with quietness and delight! How oft have I gone doubting, concluding damnation against my own soul; and God hath sent me home with my doubts resolved, and satisfied me, and persuaded me of his love in Christ! How oft have I gone with darkness and doublings in my judgment, and Ciod hath opened to me such precious truths, and opened also my understanding to see them, that his light hath been exceeding comfortable to my soul! What cordials have I met with in my saddest afllictions ! What preparatives to fortify me for the next encounter ! Vi'eW then, if Moses's face do shine so gloriously, what glory is in the face of God! If the very feet of the messengers of these tidings of peace be beautiful, how beautiful is the face of the Prince of peace ! If the word in the mouth of a fellow servant be so pleasant, what is the living AN'ord himself! If this treasure be so precious in earthen vessels, what is that treasure laid up in heaven! Think with thyself. If I had heard but such a divine prophet as Isaiah, or such a persuading, moving prophet as Jeremy, or such a worker of miracles as Elijah or Elisha ; how delightful a hearing would this have been ! If I had heard but Peter, or John, or Paul, I should rejoice in it as long as I lived; but what would I give, that I had heard one sermon from the mouth of Christ himself! Sure I should have felt the comfort of it in my very soul : why, but, alas ! all this is nothing to what we shall have above. Oh blessed are the eyes that see what there is seen, and the ears that hear the things that there are heard ! there shall I hear Elias, Isaiah, Daniel, Peter, John, not preaching to an obstinate people in imprisonment, in persecutions, and reproach, but triumphing in the praises of him that hath advanced them. Austin was wont to wish these three wishes: First, That he might have seen Christ in the flesh: Secondly, That he might have heard Paul preach : Thirdly, That he might have seen Rome in its glory. Alas! these are small matters all, to that which Austin now beholds : there we see not Christ in the form of a servant, but Christ in his kingdom, in majesty and glory ; not Paul preach in weakness and contempt, but Paul with millions more rejoicing and triumphing ; not persecuting Rome in a fading glory, but Jerusalem which is above, in perfect and lasting glory.

So also think, what a joy it is to have access and acceptance in prayer ; that when any thing aileth me, I may go to God, and open my case, and unbosom my soul to him, as to my most faithful friend ; especially knowing his sufficiency and willingness to relieve me ! Oh, but it will be a more surpassing, unspeakable joy, when I shall receive all blessings without asking them, and when all my neces.sities and miseries are removed, and when God himself will be the portion and inheritance of my soul.

What consolation also have we oft received in the supper of the I-ord ! What a privilege is it to be admitted to sit at his table; to

have his covenant sealed to me by the outward ordinance, and his special love sealed by his Spirit to my heart ! Why, but all the life and comfort of these, is their declaring and assuring me of the comforts hereafter : their use is but darkly to signify and seal those higher mercies : when I shall indeed drink with him the fruit of the vine renewed, it will then be a pleasant feast indeed. Oh the difference between the last supper of Christ on earth, and the marriage supper of the Lamb at the great day ! Here he is in an upper room, accompanied with twelve poor selected men, feeding on no curious dainties, but a paschal lamb with sour herbs, and a Judas at his table ready to betray him ; but then his room will be the glorious heavens, his attendants all the host of angels and saints: no Judas nor unfurnished guest comes there; but the humble believers must sit down by him, and the feast will be their mutual loving and rejoicing. Yet further, think with thyself thus : The communion of the saints on earth is a most delectable mercy : what a pleasure is it to live with understanding and heavenly Christians ! Even David saith, they Avere all his delight, Psal. xvi. Oh, then, what a delightful society shall I have above ! The communion of saints is there somewhat w^orth, where their understandings are fully cleared, and their affections so highly advanced. If I had seen but Job in his sores upon the dunghill, it would have been an excellent sight to see such a mirror of patience : what w'ill it be then to see him in glory, praising that power which did uphold and deliver him ! If I ha(^ heard but Paul and Silas singing in the stocks, it w'ould have been a delightful hearing : what will it be then to hear them sing praises in heaven ! If I had heard David sing praises on his lute and harp, it would have been a pleasing melody ; and that which drove the evil spirit from Saul, would sure have driven av;ay the dulness and sadness of my spirit, and have been to me as the music was to Elisha,' that the Spirit of Christ in joy would have come upon me : v/hy, I shall shortly hear that sweet singer in the heavenly choir advancing the King of saints; and will not that be a far more melodious hearing ? If I had spoken with Paul when he was new come down from the third heavens, and he might have revealed to me the things which he had seen ; oh what would I give for an hour's such conference ! how far would I go to hear such a narration ! Why, I must shortly see those very things myself; yea, and far more than Paul was then capable of seeing; and yet I shall see no more than I shall possess. If I had but spoken one hour with Lazarus when he was risen from the dead, and heard him describe the things which he had seen in another w^orld, if God would permit and enable him thereto, what a joyful discourse would that have been! How many thousand books may I read, before I could know so much as he could have told me in that hour ! If God would have suffered him to tell what he had seen, the Jews would have more thronged to hear him, than they did to see him : O, but this would have been nothing to the sight itself, and to the fruition of all that which Lazaiiis saw.

Once again, think with thyself what a soul-raising employment is the praising of God, especially in consort with his affectionate saints ! ^^'hat if I had been in the place of those shepherds, and seen the angels, and heard the multitude of the heavenly hosts praising God, and saying, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will towards men," Luke ii. 13, 14; what a glorious sight and hearing would this have been! But I shall see and hear more glorious things than this. If I had stood by Christ when he was thanking his Father, John xvii., I should have thought mine ears even blessed with his voice; how much more when I shall hear him pronounce me blessed ! If there were such great joy at the bringing back of the ark, 2 Sam. vi. 1.0, and such great joy at the re-edifying the material temple, Neh. xii. 43, what joy will there be in the new Jerusalem ! Why, if I could but see the church here in unity and prosperity, what an unspeakable joy to my soul would it be ! If I could see the congregations provided with able teachers, and the people receiving and obeying the gospel, and longing for reformation in life and manners; oh what a blessed place were England! If I could see our ignorance turned into knowledge, and error turned into soundness of understanding, and shallow professors into solid believers, and brethren living in amity and in the life of the Spirit; oh what a fortunate island were this ! Alas, alas ! what is all this to the reformation in heaven, and to the blessed condition that we must live in there ? There is another kind of change and glory than this. What great joy had the people, and David himself, to see them so willingly offer to the service of the Lord; and what an excellent psalm of praise doth David thereupon compose! 1 Chron. xxix. 9, 10, &c. When Solomon was anointed king in Jerusalem, the people rejoiced with so great joy, that the earth rent at the sound of them, 1 Kings i. 40 ; what a joyful shout will there be, then, at the appearing of the King to the church! If when the foundations of the earth were fastened, and the corner-stone thereof was laid, the morning-stars did sing together, and all the sons of God did shout for joy, Job xxxviii. 6, 7 ; why then, when our glorious world is both founded and finished, and the corner-stone appeareth to be the top-stone also, and the holy city is adorned as the bride of the Lamb ; O sirs, what a joyful shout will then be heard!

Sect. XI. 9. Compare the joy which thou shalt have in heaven, with that which the saints of God have found in the way to it, and in the foretastes of it; when thou seest a heavenly man rejoice, think what it is that so affects him. It is the property of fools to rejoice in toys, and to laugh at nothing ; but the people of God are wiser than so, they know what it is that makes them glad. When did God ever reveal the least of himself to any of his saints, but the joy of their hearts was answerable to the revelation ? Paul was so lifted up with what he saw, that he was in danger of being exalted above measure, and must have a prick in the flesh to keep him down. ^V'hen Peter had seen but Christ in his transfiguration, which was but a small glimpse of his glory, and had seen Moses

and Elias talking with him ; what a rapture and ecstasy is he cast nito ! " Master," saith he, " it is good for us to be here ; let us here build three tabernacles, one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias:" as if he should say, O let us not go down again to yonder persecuting rabble ; let us not go down again to yonder drossy, dirty world; let us not return to our mean and suffering state : is it not better that we stay here, now we are here ; is not here better company, and sweeter pleasures ? But the text saith, " He knew not what he said," Matt. xvii. 4. When Moses had been talking with God in the mount, it made his visage so shining and glorious, that the people could not endure to behold it, but he was fain to put a veil upon it: no wonder then if the face of God must be veiled, till we are come to that state where we shall be more capable of beholding him, when the veil shall be taken away, and we all beholding him with open face, shall be turned into the same image from glory to glory, 2 Cor, iii. 16—18. Alas! what are the back parts which Moses saw from the clefts of the rock, to that open face which we shall behold hereafter ? what is that revelation to John in Patmos, to this revelation which we shall have in heaven ? How short doth Paul's vision come of the saints' vision above with God ! How small a part of the glory which we must see, was that which so transported Peter in the mount! I confess these were all extraordinary foretastes, but little to the full beatifical vision. When David foresaw the resurrection of Christ, and of himself, and the pleasures which he should have for ever at God's right hand; how doth it make him break forth and say, " Therefore my heart was glad, and my glory rejoiceth, my flesh also shall rest in hope !" Psal. xvi. 9. Why, think, then, if the foresight can raise such ravishing joy, what will the actual possession do! How oft have we read and heard of the dying saints, who, when they had scarce strength and life enough to express them, have been as full of joy as their hearts could hold ; and when their bodies have been under the extremities of their sickness, yea, ready to feel the pangs of death, have yet had so much of heaven in their spirits, that their joy hath far surpassed their sorrows. And if a spark of this fire be so glorious, and that in the midst of the sea of adversity, what then is that Sun of glory itself! Oh the joy that the martyrs of Christ have felt in the midst of the scorching flames ! Sure they had life and sense as we, and were flesh and blood as well as we ; therefore it must needs be some excellent thing that must so rejoice their souls, while their bodies were burning. When Bilney can burn his finger in the candle, and Cranmer can burn off his unworthy right hand; when Bainham can call the papists to see a miracle, and tell them that he feels no more pain than in a bed of down, and that the fire was to him as a bed of roses; when Farrier can say. If I stir believe not my doctrine : think then, reader, with thyself in thy meditations. Sure it must be some wonderful foretasted glory that can do all this, that can make the flames of fire easy, and that can make the king of fears so welcome. Oh what then must this glory itself needs be ;

Chap. XI. THE SAINTS' KVERLASTING REST. (;i |

whon the very llioughts of it can hring Paul into such a strait, that lie desired to depart and he with Christ, as hest of all! when it can make men never think themselves well, till they are dead ! Oh what a blessed rest is this ! Shall Sanders so delightfully embrace the stake, and cry out,'" Welcome cross!" and shall not I more delightfully embrace my blessedness, and cry, " Welcome crown !" Shall blessed Bradford kiss the faggot, and .shall not I then kiss the Son himself? Shall the poor martyr rejoice that she might have her foot in the same hole of the stocks that Mr. Philpot's foot had been in before her; and shall not I rejoice, that my soul shall live in the same place of glory, where Christ and his apostles are gone before me i* Shall fire and faggot, shall prisons and banishment, shall scorns and cruel torments, be more welcome to others, than Christ and glory shall be to me ? God forbid. What thanks did Lucius the martyr give them, that they would send him to Christ from his ill masters on earth ! how desirously did ]5asil wish, when his persecutors threatened his death the next day, that they might not change their resolution, lest he should miss of his expectation ! What thanks then shall I give my Lord, for removing me from this loathsome prison to his glory ! and how loth shoaild I be to be deprived thereof! When Luther thought he should die of an apoplexy, it comforted him, and made him more willing, because the good duke of Saxony, and, before him, the apostle John, had died of that disease : how much more should I be willing to pass the way that Christ hath passed, and come to the glory where Christ is gone ! If Luther could thereupon say, Fen, Domme,feri clenienter; ipse paratiis sum, quia verho tuo a peccatis absolutus; Strike, Lord, strike gently; 1 am ready, because by thy word I am absolved from my sins; how much more cheerfully should I cry. Come, Lord, and advance me to this glory, and repose my weary soul in rest!

Sect. XIL 10. Compare also the glory of the heavenly kingdom with the glory of the imperfect church on earth, and with the glory of Christ in his state of humiliation, and you may easily conclude, if Christ under his Father's wrath, and Christ standing in the room of sinners, were so wonderful in excellences, what then is Christ at the Father's right hand ! And if the church, under her sins and enemies, have so much beauty, something it will have at the marriage of the Lamb. How wonderful was the Son of God in the form of a servant! When he is born, the heavens must proclaim him by miracles ; a new star must appear in the firmament, and fetch men from remote parts of the world to worship him in a manger ; the angels and heavenly host must declare his nativity, and solemnize it with praising and glorifying God. When he is but a child, he must dispute with the doctors, and confute them. When he sets upon his office, his whole life is a wonder : water turned into wine; thousands fed with five loaves and two fishes ; multitudes following him to see his miracles; the lepers cleansed ; the sick healed ; the lame restored; the blind receive their sight; the dead raised. If we had seen all this, should'we not have

thought it wonderful ? The most desperate diseases cured with a touch, with a word speaking; the blind eyes with a little clay and spittle; the devils departing by legions at command; the winds and the seas obeying his word ; are not all these wonderful ? Think, then, how wonderful is his celestial glory ! If there be such cutting down of boughs, and spreading of garments, and crying, " Ho-sanna," to one that comes into Jerusalem riding on an ass, what will there be when he comes with his angels in his glory ! If they that hear him preach the gospel of the kingdom, have their hearts turned within them, that they return and say, " Never man spake like this man," then sure they that behold his majesty in his kingdom will say. There was never glory like this glory. If, when his enemies come to apprehend him, the word of his mouth doth cast them all to the ground ; if, when he is dying, the earth must tremble, the veil of the temple rend, the sun in the firmament must hide its face, and deny its light to the sinful world, and the dead bodies of the saints arise, and the standers-by be forced to acknowledge, "Verily this was the Son of God ;" oh, then, what a day will it be when he will once more shake, not the earth only, but the heavens also, and remove the things that are shaken ; when this sun shall be taken out of the firmament, and be everlastingly darkened with the brightness of his glory ; when the dead must all arise, and stand before him, and all shall acknowledge him to be the Son of God, and every tongue confess him to be Lord and King! If, when he riseth again, the grave and death have lost their power, and the angels of heaven must roll away the stone, and astonish the watchmen till they are as dead men, and send the tidings to his dejected disciples; if the bolted doors cannot keep him forth; if the sea be as firm ground for him to walk on; if he can ascend to heaven in the sight of his disciples, and send the angels to forbid them gazing after him; oh what power, and dominion, and glory, then, is he now possessed of, and must we for ever possess with him ! Yet think further : are his very servants enabled to do such miracles, when he is gone from them ? can a few poor fishermen, and tent-makers, and the like mechanics, cure the lame, and blind, and sick ; open their prisons ; destroy the disobedient; raise the dead ; and astonish their adversaries ? oh then, what a world will that be, where every one can do greater works than these, and shall be highlier honoured than by the doing of wonders ! It were much to have the devils subject to us, but more to have our names written in the book of life. If the very preaching of the gospel be accompanied with such power, that it will pierce the heart, and discover its secrets, bring down the proud, and make the stony sinner tremble ; if it can make men burn their books, sell their lands, bring in the price and lay it down at the preacher's feet; if it can make the spirits of princes stoop, and the kings of the earth resign their crowns, and do their homage to Jesus Christ; if it can subdue kingdoms, and convert thousands, and turn the world thus upside down ; if the very mention of the judgment, and life to come, can make the judge on the bench to tremble, when

CHAr. XI. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. (31:5

the prisoner at the bar cloth prearh this doctrine; oh what then \k the glory of the kingdom itself! ^^ hat an absolute dominion have Christ and his saints! And if they have this power and honour in the day of thtur abasement, and in the time appointed for their suffering and disgrace, what then will they have in their full advancement !

Sect. XIII. 11. Compare the mercies thou shalt have above with the mercies which Christ hath hire bestowed on thy soul, and the glorious change which thou shalt have at last with the gracious change which the Spirit hath wrought on thy heart; compare the comforts of thy glorification with the comforts of thy sanctification. There is not the smallest grace in thee which is genuine and sincere, but is of greater worth than the riches of the Indies ; not a hearty desire, and groan after Christ, but is more to be valued than the kingdoms of the world. A renewed nature is the very image of God. Scripture calleth it by the name of " Christ dwelling in us," and, "the Spirit of God abiding in us." It is a beam from the face of God himself; it is the seed of God remaining in us; it is the only inherent beauty of the rational soul; it ennobleth man above all nobility; it fitteth him to understand his Maker's pleasure, to do his will, and to receive his glory : why think, then, with thyself, if this grain of mustard-seed be so precious, what is the tree of life in the midst of the paradise of God ! If a spark of life, which will but strive against corruptions, and flame out a few desires and groans, be so much worth, how glorious, then, is the fountain and end of this life! If we be said to be like God, and to bear his image, and to be holy as he is holy, when, alas ! we are pressed down with a body of sin ; sure we shall then be much liker God, when we are perfectly holy, and without blemish, and have no such thing as sin within us ! Is the desire of heaven so precious a thing, what then is the thing itself which is desired ! Is the love so excellent, what then is the Beloved ! Is our joy in foreseeing and believing so sweet, what will be the joy in the full possessing! Oh the delight that a Christian hath in the lively exercise of some of these affections ! What good doth it to his very heart, when he can feelingly say he loves his Lord ! What sweetness is there in the very act of loving! Yea, even those troubling passions of sorrow and fear, are yet delightful, when they are rightly exercised. How glad is a poor Christian when he feeleth his heart begin to melt, and when the thoughts of sinful unkindness will dissolve it! Even this sorrow doth yield him matter of joy. Oh what will it then be, when we shall do nothing but know God, and love, and rejoice, and praise, and all this in the highest perfection ! What a comfort is it to my doubting soul, when I have a little assurance of the sincerity of my graces ; when, upon examination, I can but trace the Spirit in his sanctifying works ! How much more will it comfort me to find that the Spirit hath safely conducted me, and left me in the arms of Jesus Christ! What a change was it that the Spirit made upon my soul, when he first turned me from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God! to be taken from that hor-

rid state of nature, wherein myself and my actions were loathsome to God, and the sentence of death was passed upon me, and the Almighty took me for his utter enemy ; and to be presently numbered among his saints, and called his friend, his servant, his son ; and the sentence revoked which was gone forth ; oh what a change was this ! To be taken from that state wherein I was born, and had lived delightfully so many years, and was riveted in it by custom and engagements, when thousands of sins did lie upon my score, and if I had so died I had been damned for ever; and to be justified from all these enormous crimes, and freed from all these fearful plagues, and put into the title of an heir of heaven ; oh what an astonishing change was this ! Why, then, consider, how much greater will that glorious change then be ; beyond expressing; beyond conceiving ! How oft, when I have thought of this change in my regeneration, have I cried out, O blessed day, and blessed be the Lord that I ever saw it! Why, how then should I cry out in heaven, O blessed eternity, and blessed be the Lord that brought me to it! Was the mercy of my conversion so exceeding great, that the angels of God did rejoice to see it ? Sure, then, the mercy of my salvation will be so great, that the same angels will congratulate my felicity. This grace is but a spark that is raked up in the ashes. It is covered with flesh from the sight of the world, and covered with corruption sometimes from mine own sight; but my everlasting glory will not be so clouded, nor my light be under a bushel, but upon a hill, even upon Sion, the mount of God.

Sect. XIV. 12. Lastly, Compare the joys which thou shalt have above, with those foretastes of it, which the Spirit hath given thee here. Judge of the lion by the paw, and of the ocean of joy by that drop which thou hast tasted. Thou hast here thy strongest refreshing comforts, but as that man in hell would have had the water to cool him, a little upon the tip of the finger for thy tongue to taste, yet by this little thou mayst conjecture at the quality of the whole. Hath not God sometimes revealed himself extraordinarily to thy soul, and let a drop of glory fall upon it ? Hast thou not been ready to say. Oh that it might be thus with my soul continually, and that I might always feel what I feel sometimes ? Didst thou never cry out with the martyr after thy long and doleful expectations, He is come, he is come ? Didst thou never, in a lively sermon of heaven, nor in thy retired contemplations on that blessed state, perceive thy drooping spirits revive, and thy dejected heart to lift up the head; and the light of heaven to break forth to thy soul, as a morning star, or as the dawning of the day ? Didst thou never perceive thy heart in these duties, to be as the child that Elisha revived ? to wax warm within thee, and to recover life ? W by, think with thyself, then, what is the earnest to this full inheritance ? Alas ! all this light that so amazethand rejoiceth me, is but a candle lighted from heaven, to lead me thither through this world of darkness ! If the light of a star in the night be such, or the little glimmering at the break of the day, what then is the light of the sun at noontide ! If some godly men that we read of, have been

Chai>. Xll. TllK SAIN rs' hVEULA-STlKLi KKST. (,|.j

oveiwhehned with joy, till they have cried out, Hold, Luid, ^5lay thy hand ; 1 can hear no more ! like weak eyes that cainiot enilure too great a light; oh what will then he my joys in heaven, when, as the ohject of my joy shall he the most glorious God, so my soul shall he made capahle of seeing and enjoying him ! And though the light he ten thousand times greater than the sun's, yet my eyes shall he able for ever to behold it.

Or, if thou he one that hast not felt yet these sweet foretastes, (for every believer hath not felt them,) then make use of the former delights which thou hast felt, that thou mayst the better discern what hereafter thou shalt feel.

And thus I have done with the fifth part of this directory, and showed you on what grounds to advance your meditations, and how to get them to quicken your affections, by comparing the unseen delights of heaven with those smaller which you have seen and felt in the flesh.

CHAPTER XII.

HOW TO MANAGE AND WATCH OVER THE HEART THROUGH THE WHOLE AVORK.

Sect. I. Sixthly : The sixth and last part of this directory is, to guide you in the managing of your hearts through this work, and to show you wherein you have need to be exceeding watchful. I have showed before what must be done with your hearts in your preparations to the work, and in your setting upon it; I shall now show it you in respect of the time of performance. Our chief work will here be, to discover to you the danger, and that will direct you to the fittest remedy. Let me therefore here acquaint you beforehand, that whenever you set upon this heavenly employment, you shall find your own hearts your greatest hinderer, and they will prove false to you in one or all of these four degrees. First, They will hold off, that you will hardly get them to the work. Secondly, Or else they will betray you by their idleness in the work, pretending to do it, when they do it not. Or, Thirdly, They will interrupt the work by their frequent excursions, and turning aside to every object. Or, Fourthly, They will spoil the w^ork by cutting it short, and be gone before you have done any good on it. Therefore I here forewarn you, as you value the invaluable comfort of this work, that you faithfully resist these four dangerous evils, or else all that I have said hitherto is in vain.

1. Thou shalt find thy heart as backward to this, I think, as to any work in the world. Oh what excuses it will make ; what evasions it will find out; and what delays and denmrs, when it is never so much convinced! Either it will question whether it be a duty or not; or if it be so to others, yet whether it be so tq thee. It

will take up any thing like reason to plead against it; it will tell thee that this is a work for ministers that have nothing else to study on; or for cloisterers or persons that have more leisure than thou hast. If thou be a minister, it will tell thee, This is the duty of the people ; it is enough for thee to meditate for the instructing of them, and let them meditate on what they have heard ; as if it were thy duty only to cook their meat, and serve it up, and perhaps a little to taste the sweetness, by licking thy fingers while thou art dressing it for others ; but it is they only that must eat it, digest it, and live upon it. Indeed, the smell may a little refresh thee, but it must be digesting it that must maintain thy strength and life. If all this will not serve, thy heart will tell thee of other business; thou hast this company stays for thee, or that business must be done. It may be, it will set thee upon some other duty, and so make one duty shut out another; for it had rather go to any duty than to this. Perhaps it will tell thee that other duties are greater, and therefore this must give place to them, because thou hast not time for both. Public business is of more concernment; to study, to preach for the saving of souls, must be preferred before these private contemplations : as if thou hadst no time to see to the saving of thine own soul, for looking after others; or thy charity to others were so great, that it draws thee to neglect thy comfort and salvation; or, as if there were any better way to fit us to be useful to others, than to make this experience of our doctrine ourselves ! Certainly heaven, where is the Father of lights, is the best fire to light our candle at, and the best book for a preacher to study; and, if they would be persuaded to study that more, the church would be provided of more heavenly lights ; and when their studies are divine, and their spirits divine, their preaching will then be also divine, and they may be fitly called divines indeed: or if thy heart have nothing to say against the work, then it will trifle away the time in delays, and promise this day and the next, but still keep off from the doing of the business : or lastly, if thou wilt not be so baffled with excuses or delays, thy heart will give thee a flat denial, and oppose its own unwillingness to thy reason; thou shalt find it come to the work as a bear to the stake, and draw back with all the strength it hath. I speak all this of the heart so far as it is carnal, (which in too great a measure is in the best,) for I know so far as the heart is spiritual, it will judge this work the sweetest in the world.

Well, then, what is to be done in the forementioned case ? Wilt thou do it, if I tell thee ? Why, what wouldst thou do with a servant that were thus backward to his work; or to thy beast that should draw back when thou wouldst have him go forward ? Wouldst not thou first persuade, and then chide, and then spur him, and force him on; and take no denial, nor let him alone till thou hadst got him closely to fall to his work ? Wouldst thou not say, Why, what should I do with a servant that will not work; or with an ox or horse that will not travel or labour ? Shall I keep them to look on ? Wilt thou then faithfully deal thus with thy

CiiAP. XII. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G17

heart .' If thou be not a lazy, self-deludhig hypocrite, .say, I will, by the help of God, I will. Set upon thy heart roundly, persuade it to the work, take no denial; chide it for its backwardness ; use violence with it ; bring it to the service, willing or not willing. Art thou the master of thy flesh, or art thou a servant to it ? Hast thou no command of thy own thoughts ? Cannot thy will choose the subject of thy meditations, especially when thy judgment thus directeth thy will ? I am sure God once gave thee mastery over thy flesh, and some power to govern thy own thoughts ; hast thou lost thy authority ? art thou become a slave to thy depraved nature.' Take up the authority again which God hath given thee ; command thy heart; if it rebel, use viohmce with it. If thou be too weak, call in the Spirit of Christ to thine assistance. He is never backward to so good a work, nor will deny his help to so just a cause. God will be ready to help thee, if thou be not unwilling to help thyself. Say to him, Why, Lord, thou gavest my reason the command of my thoughts and affections ; the authority I have received over them is from thee, and now, behold, they refuse to obey thine authority. Thou commandest me to set them to the work of heavenly meditation, but they rebel, and stubbornly refuse the duty. Wilt thou not assist me to execute that authority which thou hast given me ? Oh, send me down thy Spirit and power, that I may enforce thy commands, and effectually compel them to obey thy will.

And thus doing, thou shalt see thy heart will submit; its resistance will be brought under, and its backwardness will be turned to a yielding compliance.

Sect. II. 2. When thou hast got thy heart to the work, beware lest it delude thee by a loitering formality ; lest it say, I go, and go not; lest it trifle out the time, while it should be eff"ectually meditating. Certainly, the heart is as likely to betray thee in this, as in any one particular about the duty; when thou hast perhaps but an hour's time for thy meditation, the time will be spent before thy heart will be serious. This doing of duty as if we did it not, doth undo as many as the flat omission of it. To rub out the hour in a bare, lazy thinking of heaven, is but to lose that hour, and delude thyself. Well, what is to be done in this case ? Why, do here also as you do by a loitering servant; keep thine eye always upon thy heart; look not so much to the time it spendeth in the duty, as to the quantity and quality of the work that is done. You can tell by his work whether your servant hath been painful; ask, What affections have yet been acted ? how much am I yet got nearer heaven ? Verily, many a man's heart must be followed as close in this duty of meditation, as a horse in a mill, or an ox at the plough, that will go no longer than you are calling or scourging. If you cease driving but a moment, the heart will stand still; and perhaps the best hearts have much of this temper.

I would not have thee of the judgment of those, who think that while they are so backward, it is better let it alone; and that if mere love will not bring them to the duty, but there must be all

this violence used to compel it, that then the service is worse than the oniission. These men understand not. First, That this argument would certainly cashier all spiritual obedience, because the hearts of the best being but partly, sanctified, will still be resisting so far as they are carnal: Secondly, Nor do they understand well the corruptness of their own natures : Thirdly, Nor, that their sinful undisposedness will not baffle or suspend the commands of God : Fourthly, Nor one sin excuse another : Fifthly, Especially they little know the way of God to excite their affections ; and that the love which should compel them, must itself be first compelled, in the same sense as it is said to compel. Love, I know, is a most precious grace, and should have the chief interest in all our duties : but there be means appointed by God to procure this love ; and shall I not use those means, till I can use them from love ? That were to neglect the means, till I have the end. Must I not seek to procure love, till I have it already ? There are means also for the increasing of love where it is begun ; and means for the exciting of it where it lieth dull; and must I not use these means, till it is increased and excited? Why this reasoning, considering duty that we are in hand with, is the most singular means, both to stir up thy love, and to increase it; and therefore stay not from the duty till thou feel thy love constrain thee, that were to stay from the fire till thou feel thyself warm ; but fall upon the work till thou art constrained to love, and then love will constrain thee to further duty..

My jealousy, lest thou shouldst miscarry by these sottish opinions, hath made me more tedious in the opening of their error. Let nothing therefore hinder thee while thou art upon the work, from plying thy heart with constant watchfulness and constraint, seeing thou hast such experience of its dulness and backwardness : let the spur be never out of its side ; and whenever it slacks pace, be sure to give it remembrance.

Sect. in. 3. As thy heart will be loitering, so will it be diverting. It will be turning aside like a careless servant, to talk Avith every one that passeth by. When there should be nothing in thy mind but the work in hand, it will be thinking of thy calling, or thinking of thy afflictions, or of every bird, or tree, or place thou seest, or of any impertinency, rather than of heaven. Thy heart in this also will be like the husbandman's ox or horse : if he drive not, he will not go; and if he guide not, he will not keep the furrow ; and it is as good stand still, as go out of the way. Experience will tell thee thou wilt have much ado with thy heart in this point, to keep it one hour to the work, without many extravagances, and idle cogitations. The cure here is the same with that before, to use watchfulness and violence with your own imaginations, and as soon as they step out to chide them in. Say.to thy heart. What ! did I come hither to think of my business in the world ; to think of places and persons, of news or vanity, yea, or of any thing but heaven, be it never so good ? What! canst thou not watch one hour ? Wouldst thou leave this world, and dwell in heaven with Christ for ever ? and canst thou not leave it one hour out of

Chap. XII. THE SAINTS' EVEULASTING UESJ". (,1«J

Ihy thoughts, nor dwell with Christ in one Iiour's close meditation * Ask thy hoiirt, as Ahsaloni did Ilushai, Is this thy love to thy friend ! Dost thou love Christ, and the place of thy eternal, blessed abode, no more than so '. W Ikmi l^haraoh's butler dreamed that he i)ressed the ripe grapes into Pharaoh's cup, and delivered the cup into the king's hand, it was a happy dream, and signified his speedy access to the king's presence ; but the dream of the baker, that the birds did eat out of the basket on his head the baked meats prepared for Pharaoh, had an ill omen, and signified his hanging, and their eating of his flesh. Gen. xl. 10, 11, &c. So when the ripened grapes of heavenly meditation are pressed by thee into the cup of affection, and this put into the hands of Christ by delightful praises, if thou take me for skilful, this is the interpretation, that thou shalt shortly be taken from this prison where thou liest, and be set before Christ in the court of heaven, and there serve up to him that cup of praise, but much fuller and much sweeter, for ever and ever. But if the ravenous fowls of wandering thoughts do devour the meditations intended for heaven, I will not say flatly, it signifies thy death; but this I will say, that so far as these intrude, they will be the death of that service ; and if thou ordinarily admit them, that they devour the life and the joy of thy thoughts ; and if thou continue in such a way of duty to the end, it signifies the death of thy soul, as well as of thy service. Drive away these birds of prey, then, from thy sacrifice, and strictly keep thy heart to the work thou art upon.

Sect. IV. 4, Lastly, Be sure also to look to thy heart in this, that it cut not off the work before the time, and run not away through weariness, before it have leave. Thou shalt find it will be exceeding prone to this, like the ox that would unyoke, or the horse that would be unburdened, and perhaps cast off his burden, and run away. Thou mayst easily perceive this in other duties : if in secret thou set thyself to pray, is not thy heart urging thee still to cut it short; dost thou not frequently find a motion to have done ; art thou not ready to be up as soon almost as thou art down on thy knees ? Why, so it will be also in thy contemplations of heaven : as fast as thou gettest up thy heart, it will be down again; it will be weary of the work; it will be minding thee of other business to be done, and stop thy heavenly walk, before thou art well v.arm. Well, what is to be done in this case also? Why, the same authority and resolution which brought it to the work, and observed it in the work, must also hold it to it, till the work be done. Charge it in the name of God to stay : do not so great a work by the halves : say to it. Why, foolish heart ! if thou beg awhile, and go away before thou hast thy alms, dost thou not lose thy labour { if thou stop before thou art at the end of thy journey, is not every step of thy travel lost ? Thou earnest hither to fetch a walk to heaven, in hope to have a sight of the glory which thou must inherit ; and wilt thou stop when thou art almost at the top of the hill; and turn again before thou hast taken thy survey '{ Thou earnest hither in hope to speak with God, and wilt thou go before

thou hast seen him ? Thou earnest to bathe thyself in the streams of consolation, and to that end didst unclothe thyself of thy earthly thoughts; and wilt thou put a foot in, and so be gone ? Thou earnest to spy out the land of promise ; O go not back with the bunch of grapes, which thou mayst show to thy brethren, when thou comest home, for their confirmation and encouragement, till thou canst tell them by experience, that it is a land flowing with wine and oil, with milk and honey. Let them see that thou hast tasted of the wine, by the gladness of thy heart; and that thou hast been anointed with the oil, by the cheerfulness of thy countenance, Psal. civ. 15 : let them see that thou hast tasted of the milk of the land, by thy feeding, and by thy mild and gentle disposition ; and of the honey, by the sweetness of thy words and conversation. The views of heaven would heal thee of thy sinfulness, and of thy sadness; but thou must hold on the plaster, that it may have time to work : this heavenly fire would melt thy frozen heart, and refine it from the dross, and take away the earthly part, and leave the rest more spiritual and pure ; but then thou must not be presently gone, before it have time either to burn or warm. Stick, therefore, to the work, till something be done; till thy graces be acted, thy affections raised, and thy soul refreshed with the delights above ; or if thou canst not obtain these ends at once, ply it the closer the next time, and let it not go till thou feel the blessing. " Blessed is that servant whom his Lord when he comes shall find so doing," Matt. xxiv. 46.

CHAPTER XIIL

THE ABSTRACT, OR SUM OF ALL, FOR THE USE OF THE WEAK.

Sect. L Thus I have, by the gracious assistance of the Spirit, directed you in this work of heavenly contemplation, and lined you out the best way that I know for your successful performance, and led you into the path where you may walk with God. But because I would bring it down to the capacity of the meanest, and help their memories who are apt to let slip the former particulars, and cannot well lay together the several branches of this method, that they may reduce them to practice, I shall here contract the whole into a brief sum, and lay it all before you in a narrower compass. But still, reader, I wish thee to remember, that it is the practice of a duty that I am directing thee in, and therefore, if thou wilt not practise it, do not read it.

The sum is this,—As thou makest conscience of praying daily, so do thou of the acting of thy graces in meditation ; and more especially in meditating on the joys of heaven. To this end, set apart one hour or half hour every day, wherein thou mayst lay aside all worldly thoughts, and with all possible seriousness and

CiiAP. Xin. THE SAINTS' FA-EHLASTlN(i REST. (j'il

reverence, as if thou wert going to speak with God himself, or to have a sight of Christ, or of tliat blessed place; so do thou withdraw thyself into some secret place, and set thyself wholly to the following work : if thou canst, take Isaac's time and place, wlio went forth into the field in the evening to meditate ; but if thou be a servant, or poor man, that cannot have that leisure, take the fittest time and place that thou canst, though it be when thou art private about thy labours.

\\'hen thou settest to the work, look up toward heaven ; let thine eye lead thee as near as it can : remember that there is thine everlasting rest: study its excellency, study its reality, till thy unbelief be silenced, and thy faith prevail. If thy judgment be not yet drawn to admiration, use those sensible helps and advantages which were even now laid down. Compare thy heavenly joys with the choicest on earth, and so rise up from sense to faith ; if yet this mere consideration prevail not, (which yet hath much force, as is before expressed,) then fall a pleading the case with thy heart: preach upon this text of heaven to thyself; convince, inform, confute, instruct, reprove, examine, admonish, encourage, and comfort thy own soul from this celestial doctrine : draw forth those several considerations of thy rest, on which thy several affections may \vork, especially that affection or grace which thou intendest to act. If it be love which thou wouldst act, show it the loveliness of heaven, and how suitable it is to thy condition : if it be desire, consider of thy absence from this lovely object: if it be hope, consider the possibility and probability of obtaining it: if it be courage, consider the singular assistance and encouragements which thou mayst receive from God, the weakness of thy enemy, and the necessity of prevailing : if it be joy, consider of its excellent ravishing glory, of the interest in it, and of its certainty, and the nearness of the time w^hen thou mayst possess it. Urge these considerations home to thy heart; whet them with all possible seriousness upon each affection. If thy heart draw back, force it to the work : if it loiter, spur it on : if it step aside, command it in again : if it would slip away, and leave the work, use thine authority ; keep it close to the business, till thou have obtained thine end : stir not away, if it may be, till thy love do flame, till thy joy be raised, or till thy desire or other graces be livelily acted. Call in assistance also from God; mix ejaculations with thy cogitations and soliloquies ; till having seriously pleaded the case with thy heart, and reverently pleaded the case with God, thou hast pleaded thyself from a clod to a flame ; from a forgetful sinner to a mindful lover ; from a lover of the world, to a thirster after God; from a fearful coward, to a resolved Christian; from an unfruitful sadness, to a joyful life. In a word, what will not be done one day, do it the next, till thou have pleaded thy heart from earth to heaven; from conversing below, to a walking with God; and till thou canst lay thy heart to rest, as in the bosom of Christ, in this meditation of thy full and everlasting rest.

And this is the sum of these precedent directions.

CHAPTER XIV.

AN KXAMPLE OF THIS HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION, FOR THE HELF OF THE UNSKILFUL.

There rcmaincth a refit to the people of God.

Sect. I. Rest; how sweet a word is this to mine ears ! Methinks the sound doth turn to suhstance, and having entered at the ear, doth possess my brain; and thence descendeth down to my very heart : methinks I feel it stir and work, and that through all my parts and powers, but with a various work upon my various parts. To my wearied senses and languid spirits it seems a quieting, powerful opiate; to my dulled powers it is spirit and life ; to my dark eyes it is both eye-salve and a prospective; to my taste it is sweetness; to mine ears it is melody ; to my hands and feet it is strength and nimbleness. Methinks I feel it digest as it proceeds, and increase my native heat and moisture; and, lying as a reviving cordial at my heart, from thence doth send forth lively spirits, which beat through all the pulses of my soul. Rest,—not as the stone that rests on the earth, nor as these clods of flesh shall rest in the grave ; so our beasts must rest as well as we : nor is it the satisfying of our fleshly lusts, nor such rest as the carnal world de-sireth : no, no; we have another kind of rest than these : rest we shall from all our labours, which were but the way and means to rest, but yet that is the smallest part. O blessed rest, where we shall never rest day or night, crying, " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of sabbaths :" when we shall rest from sin, but not from worship; from suffering and sorrow, 1)ut not from solace ! O blessed day, when I shall rest with God; when I shall rest in the arms and bosom of my Lord; when I shall rest in knowing, loving, rejoicing, and praising; when my perfect soul and body together, shall in these perfect actings perfectly enjoy the most perfect God; when God also, who is love itself, shall perfectly love me; yea, and rest in his love to me, as I shall rest in my love to him, and rejoice over me with joy and singing, Zeph. iii. 17, as I shall rejoice in him ! How near is that most blessed, joyful day ! It comes apace ; even he that comes will come, and will not tarry. Though my Lord do seem to delay his coming, yet a little while and he will be here. What is a few hundred years when they are over! How surely will his sign appear, and how suddenly will he seize upon the careless world ! Even as the lightning that shines from east to west in a moment, he who has gone hence will even so return. Methinks I even hear the voice of his foregoers ; methinks I see him coming in the clouds, with the attendance of his angels, in majesty and in glory. O poor, secure sinners, what will you now do '. Where will you hide yourselves, or what shall cover you ? Mountains are gone ; the earth and heavens that were, are passed away; the de-

voiuing fire hath consumed all except yourselves, wlio must he the fuel for ever. Oh that you could consume as soon as the (jarth, and melt away as did the heavens ! Ah, these wishes are now hut vain: the L.amh himself would have l)een your friend; he would have loved you and ruled you, and now have saved you ; hut you would not tlicn, and now is too late. Never cry, Lord, Lord; too late, too late, man ! Why dost thou look al)out { Can any save thee? A\'hither dost thou run ? Can any hide thee? O wretch, that hast brought thyself to this ! Now, blessed saints that have believed and obeyed, this is the end of faith and patience ; this is it for which you prayed and waited: do you now repent your sufferings and sorrows, your self-denying, and holy walking ? Are your tears of repentance now bitter or sweet ? O, see how the Judge doth smile upon you ; there is love in his looks ; the titles of Redeemer, Husband, Head, are written in his amiable, shining face. Hark, doth he not call you ? He bids you stand here on his right hand; fear not, for there he sets his sheep. O joyful sentence, pronounced by that blessed mouth : " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundations of the world." See how your Saviour takes you by the hand; go along you must, the door is open, the kingdom is his, and therefore yours. There is your place before his throne ; the Father receiveth you as the spouse of his Son ; he bids you welcome to the crown of glory: never so unworthy, crowned you must be. This was the project of free redeeming grace, and this was the purpose of eternal love. O blessed grace ! O blessed love ! Oh the frame that my soul will then be in! Oh, how love and joy will stir ! But I cannot express it; I cannot conceive it.

This is that joy which was procured by sorrow : this is that crown which was procured by the cross. Aly Lord did weep, that now my tears might be wiped away ; he did bleed, that I might now rejoice ; he was forsaken, that I might not now be forsaken; he did then die, that I might now live. This weeping, wounded Lord shall I behold; this bleeding Saviour shall I see, and live in him that died for me. Oh, free mercy, that can exalt so vile a wretch ! Free to me, though dear to Christ; free grace that hath chosen me, when thousands were forsaken ; when my companions in sin must burn in hell, and I must here rejoice in rest. Here must I live with all these saints : O comfortable meeting of my old acquaintance, with whom I prayed, and wept, and suffered ; with whom I spake of this day and place. I see the grave could not contain you; the sea and earth must give up their dead; the same love hath redeemed and saved you also. This is not like our cottages of clay, nor like our prisons, or earthly dwellings ; this voice of joy is not like our old complainings, our groans, our sighs, our impatient moans ; nor this melodious praise like our scorns and revilings, nor like the oaths and curses which we heard on earth ; this body is not like the body we had, nor this soul like the soul we had, nor this life like the life that then we lived. We have changed our place, we have changed our state, our clothes, our thoughts,

our looks, our language ; we have changed our company for the greater part, and the rest of our company is changed itself. Before, a saint was weak and despised, so full of pride, and peevishness, and other sins, that we could scarce ofttimes discern their graces; but now how glorious a thing is a saint! Where is now their body of sin which wearied themselves and those about them ? Where are now our different judgments, our reproachful titles, our divided spirits, our exasperated passions, our strange looks, our uncharitable censures ? Now we are all of one judgment, of one name, of one heart, of one house, and of one glory. O sweet reconcilement ! O happy union ! which makes us first to be one with Christ, and then to be one among ourselves. Now, our differences shall be dashed in our teeth no more, nor the gospel reproached through our folly or scandal. • O my soul, thou shalt never more lament the sufferings of the saints, never more condole the church's ruins, never bewail thy suffering friends, nor lie wailing over their death-beds, or their graves ; thou shalt never suffer thy old temptations from Satan, the world, or thy own flesh; thy body will no more be such a burden to thee; thy pains and sicknesses are all now cured ; thou shalt be troubled with weakness and weariness no more ; thy head is not now an aching head, nor thy heart now an aching heart; thy hunger, and thirst, and cold, and sleep, thy labour and study, are all gone. Oh what a mighty change is this ! from the dunghill to the throne; from persecuting sinners to praising saints ; from a body as vile as the carrion in the ditch, to a body as bright as the sun in the firmament; from complainings under the displeasure of God, to the perfect enjoyment of him in love; from all my doubts and fears of my condition to this possession which hath put me out of doubt; from all my fearful thoughts of death to this most blessed, joyful life ! Oh what a blessed change is this ! Farewell, sin and suffering, for ever ; farewell, my hard and rocky heart; farewell, my proud and unbelieving heart ; farewell, atheistical, idolatrous, worldly heart; farewell, my sensual, carnal heart: and now welcome, most holy, heavenly nature, w^hich, as it must be employed in beholding the face of God, so is it full of God alone, and delighteth in nothing else but him. Oh, who can question the love which he doth so sweetly taste, or doubt of that which with such joy he feeleth ! Farewell, repentance, confession, and supplication ; fareweD, the most of hope and faith; and welcome, love, and joy, and praise. I shall now have my harvest without ploughing or sowing, my wine without the labour of the vintage, my joy without a preacher or a promise, even all from the face of God himself. That is the sight that is worth the seeing ; that is the book that is worth the reading. Whatever mixture is in the streams, there is nothing but pure joy in the fountain. Here shall 1 be encircled with eternity, and come forth no more; here shall I live, and ever live, and praise my Lord, and ever, ever, ever praise him. My face will not wrinkle, nor my hair be grey ; but this mortal shall have put on immortality, and this corruptible, in-corruption, and death shall be swallowed up in victory. O death !

where is now thy sting i* O grave ! where is thy victory .' The date of my lease will no more expire, nor shall I trouhle myself with thoughts of death, nor lose my joys through fear of losing them. When millions of ages are past, my glory is hut heginning; and when millions more are past, it is no nearer ending. Every day is all noon-tide, and every month is May or harvest, and every year is there a jubilee, and every age is full of manhood ; and all this is one eternity. O blessed eternity ! the glory of my glory ! the perfection of my perfection !

Ah, drowsy, earthy, blockish heart, how coldly dost thou think of this reviving day ! Dost thou sleep, when thou thinkest of eternal rest ? Art thou hanging earthward, when heaven is before thee ? Hadst thou rather sit thee down in dirt and dung, than walk in the court of the palace of God i Dost thou now remember thy worldly business ; art thou looking back to the Sodom of thy lusts; art thou thinking of thy delights and merry company ? Wretched heart! is it better to be there, than above with God; is the company better; are the pleasures greater ? Come away, make no excuse, make no delay; God commands, and I command thee, come away; gird up thy loins ; ascend the mount, and look about thee with seriousness and with faith. Look thou not back upon the way of the wilderness, except it be when thine eyes are dazzled with the glory, or when thou wouldst compare the kingdom with that howling desert, that thou mayst more sensibly perceive the mighty difference. Fix thine eye upon the sun itself, and look not down to earth as long as thou art able to behold it; except it be to discern more easily the brightness of the one, by the darkness of the other. Yonder, far above yonder, is thy Father's glory ; yonder must thou dwell when thou leavest this earth ; yonder must thou remove, O my soul, when thou departest from this body ; and when the power of thy Lord hath raised it again, and joined thee to it, yonder thou must live with God for ever. There is the glorious new Jerusalem, the gates of pearl, the foundations of pearl, the streets and pavements of transparent gold. Seest thou that sun which lighteth all this world ? Why, it must be taken down as useless there, or the glory of heaven will darken it, and put it out: even thyself shall be as bright as yonder shining sun. God will be the sun, and Christ the light, and in his light shalt thou have light.

What thinkest thou, O my soul, of this most blessed state ? What! dost thou stagger at the promise of God through unbelief? Though thou say nothing, or profess belief, yet thou speakest so coldly and so customarily, that I much suspect thee. 1 know thy infidelity is thy natural vice. Didst thou believe indeed, thou wouldst be more affected with it. Why, hast thou not it under the hand, and seal, and oath of God ? Can God lie; or he that is the truth itself, be false ? Foolish wretch ! What need hath God to flatter thee, or deceive thee ; why should he promise thee more than he will perform ? Art thou not his creature, a little crumb of dust, a crawling worm; ten thousand times more below him, than this fly or worm is below thee ? Wouldst thou flatter a flea, or a

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womi ? What need hast thou of them ? If they do not please thee, thou wilt crush them dead, and never accuse thyself of cruelty: why, yet they are thy fellow creatures, made of as good metal as thyself, and thou hast no authority over them but what thou hast received: how much less fieed hath God of thee ! or why should he care, if thou perish in thy folly ? Cannot he govern thee without either flattery or falsehood ? Cannot he easily make thee obey his will, and as easily make thee suffer for thy disobedience ? Wretched, unbelieving heart! tell a fool, or tell a tyrant, or tell some false and flattering man, of drawing their subjects by false promises, and procuring obedience by deceitful means ; but do thou not dare to charge the wise, almighty, faithful God with this. Above all men, it beseems not thee to doubt, either of this Scripture being his infallible word, or of the performance of this word to thyself. Hath not argument convinced thee; may not thy own experience utterly silence thee ? How oft hath this Scripture been verified for thy good! how many of the promises have been performed to thee ! Hath it not quickened thee, and converted thee ? hast thou not felt in it something more than human ? Would God perform another promise ; or would he so powerfully concur with a feigned word ? If thou hadst seen the miracles that Christ and his apostles wrought, thou wouldst never sure have questioned the truth of their doctrine : why, they delivered it down by such undoubted testimony, that it may be called divine as well as human. Nay, hast thou not seen its prophecies fulfilled; hast thou not lived in an age wherein such wonders have been wrought, that thou hast now no cloak for thy unbelief; hast thou not seen the course of nature changed, and works beyond the power of nature wrought; and all this in the fulfilling of the Scripture ? Hast thou so soon forgotten since nature failed me, and strength failed me, and blood, and spirits, and flesh, and friends, and all means did utterly fail; and how art and reason had sentenced me for dead; and yet how God revoked the sentence ; and at the request of praying, believing saints, did turn thee to the promise which he verified to thee ; and canst thou yet question the truth of this Scripture ? Hast thou seen so much to confirm thy faith, in the great actions of seven years past, and canst thou yet doubt ? Thou hast seen signs and wonders, and art thou yet so unbelieving ? O wretched heart! hath God made thee a promise of rest, and wilt thou come short of it, and shut out thyself through unbelief I Thine eyes may fail thee, thy ears deceive thee, and all thy senses prove delusions, sooner than a promise of God can delude thee. Thou mayst be surer of that which is written in the word, than if thou see it with thine eyes, or feel it with thy hands. Art thou sure thou livest, or sure that this is earth which thou standest on ? Art thou sure thine eyes do see the sun ? As sure is all this glory to the saints, as sure shall I be higher than yonder stars, and live for ever in the holy city, and joyfully sound forth the praise of my Redemer, if I be not shut out by this evil heart of unbelief, causing me to depart from the living God.

And is this rest so sweet, and so sure ^ Oh, then, what means the careless world .' Do they know what it is they so neglect; did they ever hear of it, or are they yet asleep, or are they dead ? Do they know for certain that the crown is before them, while they thus sit still, or follow trifles ? Undoubtedly they are quite beside themselves, to mind so much their provision in the way, and strive, and care, and labour for trifles, when they are hasting so fast to another world, and their eternal happiness lies at stake. Were there left one spark of wit or reason, they would never sell their rest for toil, or sell their glory for worldly vanities, nor venture heaven for the pleasure of a sin. Ah, poor men ! that you would once consider what you hazard, and then you would scorn these tempting baits. Oh, blessed for ever be that love that hath rescued me from this mad, bewitching darkness !

Draw nearer yet, then, O my soul, bring forth . , . thy strongest burning love ; here is matter for it to work upon; here is something truly worth thy loving. Oh see what beauty presents itself! is it not exceeding lovely? is not all the beauty in the world contracted here ? is not all other beauty deformity to it ? dost thou need to be persuaded how to love ! Here is a feast for thine eyes; a feast for all the powers of thy soul: dost thou need to be entreated to feed upon it ? canst thou love a little shining earth ; canst thou love a walking piece of clay ; and canst thou not love that God, that Christ, that glory, which is so truly and unmeasurably lovely ! Thou canst love thy friend, because he loves thee ; and is the love of thy friend like the love of Christ ? Their weeping or bleeding for thee, doth not ease thee, nor stay the course of thy tears or blood : but the tears and blood that fell from thy Lord, have all a sovereign healing virtue, and are waters of life, and balsam to thy faintings and thy sores. O my soul, if ^love deserve and should procure love, what incomprehensible love is here before thee ! Pour out all the store of thy affections here ; and all is too little. Oh that it were more ! Oh that it were many thousand times more ! Let him be first served, that served thee first. Let him have the first-born and strength of thy love, who parted with strength and life in love to thee. If thou hast any to spare when he liath his part, let it be imparted then to standers-by. See what a sea of love is here before thee; cast thyself in, and swim with the arms of thy love in this ocean of his love. Fear not lest thou shouldst be drowned or consumed in it. Though it seem as the scalding furnace of lead, yet thou wilt find it but mollifying oil :* though it seem a furnace of fire, and the hottest that "ever was kindled upon earth, yet it is the fire of love and not of wrath; a fire most effectual to extinguish fire ; never intended to consume, but to glorify thee : venture into it, then, in thy believing meditations, and walk in these flames with the Son of God: when thou art once in, thou wilt be sorry to come forth again. O my soul! what wantest thou here to provoke thy love ? Dost thou love for excellency ? Why, thou seest nothing below * In which it iS said St. John was cast, and came out anointed only.

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but baseness, except as they relate to thy enjoyments above. Yonder is the Goshen, the region of light; this is a land of palpable darkness. Yonder twinkling stars, that shining moon, the radiant sun, are all but as the lanterns hanged out at thy Father's house, to light thee while thou walkest in the dark streets of the earth : but little dost thou know (ah, little indeed!) the glory and blessed mirth that is within ! Dost thou love for suitableness ? Why, what person more suitable than Christ? His Godhead, his manhood, his fulness, his freeness, his willingness, his constancy, do all proclaim him thy most suitable friend. What state more suitable to thy misery, than that of mercy; or to thy sinfulness and baseness, than that of honour and perfection ? What place more suitable to thee than heaven ? Thou hast had a sufficient trial of this world. Dost thou find it agree with thy nature or desires; are these common abominations, these heavy sufferings, these unsatisfying vanities, suitable to thee ? Or dost thou love for interest and near relation ? Why, where hast thou better interest than in heaven; or where hast thou nearer relation than there ? Dost thou love for acquaintance and familiarity ? Why, though thine eyes have never seen thy Lord, yet he is never the farther from thee; if thy son were blind, yet he would love thee his father, though he never saw thee. Thou hast heard the voice of Christ to thy very heart; thou hast received his benefits; thou hast lived in his bosom; and art thou not yet acquainted with him ? It is he that brought thee seasonably and safely into the world : it is he that nursed thee up in thy tender infancy, and helped thee when thou couldst not help thyself: he taught thee to go, to speak, to read, to understand : he taught thee to know thyself and him : he opened thee that first window whereby thou sawest into heaven. Hast thou forgotten since thy heart was careless, and he did quicken it; and hard and stubborn, and he did soften it, and make it yield; when it was at peace, and he did trouble it; and whole, till he did break it; and broken, till he did heal it again ? Hast thou forgotten the time, nay, the many, very many times, when he found thee in secret all in tears ; when he heard thy dolorous sighs and groans, and left all to come and comfort thee ; when he came in upon thee, and took thee up, as it were in his arms, and asked thee. Poor soul, what aileth thee ? Dost thou weep, when I have wept so much ? Be of good cheer; thy wounds are saving, and not deadly. It is I that have made them, who mean thee no hurt: though I let out thy blood, I will not let out thy life.

O methinks I remember yet his voice, and feel those embracing arms that took me up : how gently did he handle me ! how carefully did he dress my wounds, and bind them up ! Methinks I hear him still saying to me. Poor sinner, though thou hast dealt unkindly with me, and cast me off, yet will not I do so by thee; though thou hast set light by me and all my mercies, yet both I and all are thine : what wouldst thou have, that I can give thee ; and what dost thou want that I cannot give thee ? If any thing I have will pleasure thee, thou shalt have it: if any thing

ill heaven or earth will make thee happy, why it is all thine own. Wouklst thou have pardon { thou .slialt have it; I freely forgive thee all the debt. Wouldst thou have; grace and peace .' thou shalt have them both. Wouldst tliou have myself.' why, behold, I am thine, thy Friend, thy Lord, thy Brother, thy Husband, and thy Head. \\'ouldst thou have the Father ? why I will bring thee to him ; and thou shalt have him in and by me. These were my Lord's reviving words: these were the melting, healing, raising, <]uickening passages of love. After all this, when I was doubtful of his love, niethinks I yet remember his overcoming and convincing arguments. Why, sinner, have I done so much to testify my love, and yet dost thou doubt.'' Have I made thy believing it the condition of enjoying it, and yet dost thou doubt ? Have I otfered thee myself and love so long, and yet dost thou question my willingness to be thine ? Why, what could I have done more than I have done ; at what dearer rate should I tell thee that I love thee i Read yet the story of my l)itter passion; wilt thou not believe that it proceeded from love ? Did I ever give thee cause to be so jealous of me, or to think so hardly of me, as thou dost ? Have I made myself in the gospel a lion to thine enemies, and a lamb to thee ; and dost thou so overlook my lamb-like nature ? Have I set mine arms and heart there open to thee, and wilt thou not believe but they are shut? Why, if I had been willing to let thee perish, I could have done it at a cheaper rate. What need I then have done and suiFered so much ; w hat need I follow thee with so long patience, and entreating ? What dost thou tell me of thy wants ; have I not enough for me and thee ? And why dost thou foolishly tell me of thy unworthiness, and thy sin ? I had not died, if man had not sinned : if thou wert not a sinner, thou wert not for me ; if thou wert worthy thyself, what shouldst thou do with my worthiness ? Did I ever invite the worthy and the righteous ; or did I ever save or justify such ; or is there any such on earth ? Hast thou nothing ; art thou lost and miserable ; art thou helpless and forlorn ? Dost thou believe that I am a sufficient Saviour, and \vouldst thou have me ? Why then take me ; lo ! I am thine; if thou be willing, I am willing, and neither sin nor devils shall break the match.

These, O these w^ere the blessed words which his Spirit from his gospel spoke unto me, till he made me cast myself at his feet, yea, into his arms, and to cry out, My Saviour and my Lord, thou hast ])roke my heart, thou hast revived my heart, thou hast overcome, thou hast won my heart ; take it, it is thine : if such a heart can please thee, take it; if it cannot, make it such as thou wouldst have it. Thus, O my soul, mayst thou remember the sweet familiarity thou hast had with Christ; therefore, if acquaintance will cause affection, O then let out thy heart unto him : it is he that hath stood by thy bed of sickness, that hath cooled thy heats, and eased thy pains, and refreshed thy weariness, and removed thy fears; he hath been always ready, when thou hast earnestly sought him ; he hath given thee the meeting in public and in private ; he hath been found of thee in the congregation, in thy house, in thy

chamber, in the field, in the way as thou wast walking, in thy waking nights, in thy deepest dangers. Oh, if bounty and compassion be an attractive of love, how unmeasurably, then, am I bound to love him ! All the mercies that have filled up my life do tell me this ; all the places that ever I did abide in, all the societies and persons that I have had to deal with, every condition of life that I have passed through, all my employments, and all my relations, every change that hath befallen me, all tell me that the fountain is overflowing goodness. Lord ! what a sum of love am I indebted to thee, and how doth my debt continually increase ! How should I love again for so much love ! But what! shall I dare to think of making thee requital; or of recompensing all thy love with mine ? Will my mite requite thee for thy golden mines; my seldom wishes for thy constant bounty ; or mine which is nothing, or not mine, for thine which is infinite, and thine own ? Shall I dare to contend in love with thee ; or set my borrowed, languid spark, against the element and sun of love ? Can I love as high, as deep, as broad, as long as Love itself? as much as he that made me, and that made me love, that gave me all that little Avhich I have ? Both the heart, the hearth where it is kindled, the bellows, the fire, the fuel, and all were his: as I cannot match thee in the works of thy power, nor make, nor, preserve, nor guide the world, so why should I think any more of matching thee in love ? No, Lord, I yield, I am unable, I am overcome. O blessed conquest! go on victoriously, and still prevail, and triumph in thy love ; the captive of love shall proclaim thy victory when thou leadest me in triumph from earth to heaven, from death to life, from the tribunal to the throne. Myself, and all that see it, shall acknowledge that thou hast prevailed, and all shall say, " Behold how he loved him!" Yet let me love thee in subjection to thy love, as thy redeemed captive, though not thy peer. Shall I not love at all, because I cannot reach thy measure ? Or at least, let me heartily wish to love thee. Oh that I were able ! Oh that I could feelingly say, I love thee, even as I feel I love my friend and myself! Lord, that I could do it! but, alas ! I cannot; fain I would, but, alas ! I cannot. Would I not love thee, if I Avere but able ? Though I cannot say, as thy apostle, Thou knowest that I love thee, yet can I say, Lord, thou knowest that I would love thee. But I speak not this to excuse my fault; it is a crime that admits of no excuse, and it is my own ; it dwelleth as near me as my very heart; if my heart be my own, this sin is my own, yea, and more my own than my heart is. Lord, what shall this sinner do ? the fault is my own, and yet I cannot help it. I am angry with my heart that it doth not love thee, and yet I feel it love thee never the more; I frown upon it, and yet it cares not; I threaten it, but it doth not feel; I chide it, and yet it doth not mend; I reason with it, and would fain persuade it, and yet I do not perceive it stir; I rear it up as a carcass upon its legs, but it neither goes nor stands; I rub and chafe it in the use of thine ordinances, and yet I feel it not warm within me. O miserable man that I am ! Unworthy soul! is not thine eye now upon the

only lovely object ? and art thou not beholden to the ravishing glory of the saints ? and yet dost thou not love ? and yet dost thou not foel the fire break forth { Why, art thou not a soul, a living spirit ? and is not thy love the choicest piece of thy life ? Art thou not a rational soul.' and shouldst thou not love according to reason's conduct ? And doth it not tell thee that all is dirt and dung to Christ; that earth is a dungeon to the celestial glory ? Art thou not a spirit thyself, and shouldst thou not love spiritually ; even God, who is a Spirit, and the Father of spirits ? Doth not evory creature love their like .' AN hy, my soul, art thou like to flesh, or gold, or stately buildings? Art thou like to meat and drink, or clothes ? A\'ilt thou love no higher than thy horse or swine ? Hast thou nothing better to love than they ? What is the beauty that thou hast so admired ? Canst thou not even wink or think it all into darkness or deformity ? When the night comes, it is nothing to thee; while thou hast gazed on it, it hath withered away ; a botch or scab, the wrinkles of consuming sickness, or of age, do make it as loathsome as it was before delightful. Suppose but that thou sawest that beautiful carcass lying on the bier, or rotting in the grave, the skull dug up, and the bones scattered; where is now thy lovely object ? Couldst thou sweetly embrace it when the soul is gone; or take any pleasure in it, when there is nothing left that is like thyself!" Ah! why then dost thou love a skinful of dirt, and canst love no more the heavenly glory ? What thinkest thou ? Shalt thou love when thou comest there; when thou seest; when thou dost enjoy; when the Lord shall take thy carcass from the grave, and make thee shine as the sun in glory, and when thou shalt everlastingly dwell in the blessed presence ? Shalt thou then love, or shalt thou not ? Is not the place a meeting of lovers ? Is not the life a state of love ? Is it not the great marriage-day of the Lamb, when he will embrace and entertain his spouse with love ? Is not the employment there the work of love, w here the souls with Christ do take their fill ? O, then, my soul, begin it here. ]3e sick of love now, that thou mayst be well with love there. Cant. v. 8; Rom. viii. 35; keep thyself now in the love of God, Jude 21, and let neither life nor death nor any thing separate thee from it, and thou shalt be kept in the fulness of love for ever, and nothing shall imbitter or abate thy pleasure; for the Lord hath prepared a city of love, a place for the communicating of love to his chosen, and those that love his name shall dwell there, Psal. Ixix. 30.

Away, then, O my drowsy soul! Who but an owl or mole would love this world's uncomfortable darkness, when they are called forth to live in light ? To sleep under the light of grace is unreasonable, much more in the approach of the light of glory. The night of thy ignorance and misery is past, the day of glorious light is at hand; this is the day-break betwixt them both. Though thou see not yet the sun itself appear, methinks the twilight of promise should revive thee. Come forth, then, O my dull, congealed spirits, and leave these earthly cells to dumpish sadness, and

hear thy Lord that bids thee rejoice, and again re-^ ^ ■ joice! Thou hast lain here long enough in thy

prison of flesh, where Satan hath been thy gaoler, and the things of this world have been the stocks for the feet of thy affections; where cares have been thy irons, and fears thy scourge, and the bread and water of affliction thy food; where sorrows have been thy lodging, and thy sins and foes have made the bed ; and a carnal, hard, unbelieving heart have been the iron gates and bars that have kept thee in, that thou couldst scarce have leave to look through the lattices, and see one glimpse of the immortal light. The i\ngel of the covenant now calls thee, and strikes thee, and bids thee arise and follow him. Up, O my soul, and cheerfully obey, and thy bolts and bars shall all fly open. Do thou obey, and all will obey; follow the Lamb which way soever he leads thee. Art thou afraid because thou knowest not whither ? Can the place be worse than where thou art? Shouldst thou fear to follow such a guide ? Can the sun lead thee to a state of darkness; or can he mislead thee, that is the light of every man that cometh into the world ? Will he lead thee to death, who died to save thee from it; or can he do thee any hurt, who for thy sake did suffer so much ? Follow him, and he will show thee the paradise of God ; he will give thee a sight of the new Jerusalem ; he will give thee a taste of the tree of life. Sit no longer, then, by the fire of earthly, common comforts, whither the cold of carnal fears and sorrows did drive thee : thy winter is past, and wilt thou house thyself still in earthly thoughts, and confine thyself to drooping and dulness ? Even the silly flies will leave their holes when the winter is over, and the sun draws near them ; the ants will stir, the fishes rise, the birds will sing, the earth look green, and all with joyful note will tell thee the spring is come. Come forth, then, O my drooping soul, and lay aside thy winter mourning robes ; let it be seen in thy believing joys and praise, that the day is appearing, and the spring is come, and as now thou seest thy comforts green, thou shalt shortly see them white and ripe for harvest; and then thou who art now called forth to see and taste, shalt be called forth to reap, and gather, and take possession. Shall I suspend and delay my joys till then ? Should not the joys of the spring go before the joys of harvest ? Is title nothing before possession ? Is the heir in no better a state than the slave ? My Lord hath taught me to rejoice in hope of his glory, and to see it through the bars of a prison; and even when I am persecuted for righteousness' sake, when I am reviled, and all manner of evil sayings are said against me falsely for his sake, then he hath commanded me to rejoice, and be exceeding glad, because of this my great reward in heaven, Rom. v. 2; Matt. v. 10—12. How justly is an unbelieving heart possessed by sorrow, and made a prey to cares and fears, when itself doth create them, and thrust away its offered peace and joy ! I know, it is the pleasure of my bounteous Lord, that none of his family should want for comfort, nor live such a poor and miserable life, nor look with such a famished, dejected face. I know, he would

Chap. XIV. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G33

have my joys exceed my sorrows ; and as much as he deHghts in the humble and contrite, yet doth he more dchght in the soul as it de-lighteth in him. I know, he taketh no pleasure in my self-procured sadness ; nor would he call on me to weep and mourn hut that it is the only way to these delights. Would I spread the table before my guest, and bring him forth my best provision, and bid him sit down and eat and welcome, if I did not unfeignedly desire he should do so ? Hath my Lord spread me a table in this wilderness, and furnished it with the promises of everlasting glory, and set before me angels' food, and broached for me the side of his beloved Son, that I might have a better wine than the blood of the grape ? Doth he so frequently, importunately invite me to sit down, and draw forth my faith, and feed, and spare not; nay, hath he furnished me to that end with reason, and faith, and a rejoicing disposition ; and yet is it possible that he should be unwilling of my joys ? Never think it, O my unbelieving soul, nor dare to charge him with thy uncomfortable heaviness, who offered thee the foretaste of the highest delight that heaven doth afford, and God can bestow. Doth he not bid thee delight thyself in the Lord, and promise to give thee then the desires of thy heart ? Psal. xxxvii. 4. Hath he not charged thee to rejoice evermore, 1 Thess. v. IG; yea, to sing aloud and shout for joy ? Psal. xxxii. 11 ; xlvii. I. Why should I then draw back discouraged? My God is willing, if 1 were but willing. He is delighted in my delights. He would fain have it my constant frame and daily business, to be near to him in my believing meditations, and to live in the sweetest thoughts of his goodness, and to be always delighting my soul in himself. O blessed work ; employment fit for the sons of God !

But, ah ! my Lord, thy feast is nothing to me without an appetite ; thou must give a stomach as well as meat. Thou hast set the dainties of heaven before me, but, alas ! I am blind, and cannot see them ; I am sick, and cannot relish them ; I am so benumbed, that I cannot put forth a hand to take them. What is the glory of sun and moon to a clod of earth '{ Thou knowest I need thy subjective grace, as well as thine objective, and that thy work upon mine own distempered soul, is not the smallest part of my salvation; I therefore humbly beg this grace, that as thou hast opened heaven unto me in thy blessed word, so thou wouldst open mine eyes to see it, and my heart to affect it; else heaven will be no heaven to me. Awake, therefore, O thou Spirit of life, and breathe upon thy graces in me ; blow upon the garden of my heart, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my Beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits, Cant. iv. IG ; and take me by the hand, and lift me up from earth thyself; that I may fetch one walk in the garden of glory, and see by faith what thou hast laid up for them that love thee and wait for thee.

Away, then, you soul-tormenting cares and fears! Away, you importunate, heart-vexing sorrows ! At least forbear me a little while ; stand by, and trouble not my aspiring soul; stay here below whilst I go up and see my rest. The way is strange to me, but not

to Christ. There was the eternal dwelling of his glorious Deity, and thither hath he also brought his assumed glorified flesh. It was his work to purchase it; it is his work to prepare it, and to prepare me for it, and to bring me to it. The eternal God of truth hath given me his promise, his seal, and his oath to assure me, that believing in Christ, I shall not perish, but have everlasting life, John iii. 16. Thither shall my soul be speedily removed, and my body very shortly follow. It is not so far but he that is every where can bring me thither; nor so difficult and unlikely, but omnipo-tency can effect it. And though this unbelief may diminish my delights, and much abate my joys in the way, yet shall it not abate the love of my Redeemer, nor make the promise of none effect. And can my tongue say, that I shall shortly and surely live with God, and yet my heart not leap within me ? Can I say it believ-ingly, and not rejoicingly ? Ah ! faith, how sensibly do I now perceive thy weakness ! Ah ! unbelief, if I had never heard or known it before, yet how sensibly now do I perceive thy malicious tyranny ! But though thou darken my light, and dull my life, and suppress my joys, yet shalt thou not be able to conquer and destroy me. There shall I and my joys survive when thou art dead; and though thou envy all my comforts, yet some in despite of thee I shall even here receive : but were it not for thee, what abundance might I have ! the light of heaven should shine into my heart, and I might be as familiar there as I am on earth.

Come away, my soul, then, stop thine ears to the ignorant language of infidelity. Thou art able to answer all its arguments, or if thou be not, yet tread them under thy feet. Come away, stand not looking on that grave, nor turning those bones, nor reading thy lesson now in the dust; those lines will soon be wiped out; but lift up thy head and look to heaven, and read thy instructions in those lixed stars. Or yet look higher than those eyes can see, into that foundation which standeth sure, and see thy name in golden letters, written before the foundations of the world, in the book of life, of the slain Lamb. What if an angel from heaven should tell thee that there is a mansion prepared for thee ; that it shall certainly be thine own, and thou shalt possess it for ever ; would not such a message make thee glad ? and dost thou make light of the infallible word of promises, which were delivered by the Spirit, and by the Son himself ? Suppose thou hadst seen a fiery chariot come for thee, and fetch thee up to heaven like Elias, would not this rejoice thee ? Why, my Lord hath acquainted me, and assured me, that the soul of a Lazarus, a beggar, goes not forth of its corrupted flesh, but a convoy of angels are ready to attend it, and bring it to the comforts in Abraham's bosom. Shall a drunkard be so merry among his cups ; and a glutton in his delicious fare ; and the proud in his bravery and dignity ; and the lustful wanton in the enjoyment of his mate ? and shall not I rejoice who must shortly be in heaven ? How glad is voluptuous youth of their play-times and holidays ! Why, in heaven I shall have an everlasting holiday of pleasure. Can meat and drink delight me when I hunger and thirst ? Can I find plea-

sure in walks, and gardens, and conveniont dwellings ? Can Lcau-teous sights delight mine eyes, and odours my smell, and melody mine ears { and shall not the forethought of the celestial bliss delight me? My beast is glad of his fresh pasture, and his liberty, and his rest; and shall not I .' What delight have I found in my private studies, especially when thoy have prospered to the increase of my knowledge ! Methinks I could bid the woild farewell, and imnmre myself among my books, and look forth no more (were it a lawful course); but, as Heinsius in his library at Leyden, shut the doors upon me, and as in the lap of eternity, among those divine souls, employ myself in sweet content, and pity the rich and great ones who know not this happiness. Sure then it is a high delight indeed which in the true lap of eternity is enjoyed. If Lipsius thought, when he did but read Seneca, that he was even upon Olyrnpus' top, above mortality and human things; what a case shall I be in, when I am beholding Christ! If Julius Scaliger thought twelve verses in Lucan better than the whole German empire, what shall I think mine inheritance worth ! If the mathematics alone are so delectable, that their students do profess that they should think it sweet to live and die in those studies ; how delectable, then, will my life be, when I shall fully and clearly know those things which the most learned do not know but doubtfully and darkly ! In one hour shall I see all difficulties vanish ; and all my doubts in physics, metaphysics, politics, medicine, &c. shall be resolved: so happy are the students of that university! Yea, all the depths of divinity will be uncovered to me, and all difficult knots untied, and the book unsealed, and mine eyes opened. For in knowing God, I shall know all things that are fit or good for the creature to know. There Commenius's attempt is perfected, and all the sciences reduced to one. Seneca thought that he who lived without books, was buried alive ; but had he known what it is to enjoy God in glory, he would have said indeed, that to live without him is to be buried alive in hell.

If Apollonius travelled into Ethiopia and Persia to consult with the learned there ; and if Plato and Pythagoras left their country to see those wise Egyptian priests ; and if, as Hierom saith, many travelled a thousand miles to see and speak with eloquent Livy; and if the queen of Sheba came from Ethiopia to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and see his glory ; oh how gladly should 1 leave this countr)', how cheerfully should I pass from earth to heaven, to see the glory of that eternal Majesty; and to attain myself that height of wisdom, in comparison of which the most learned on earth are but silly, brutish fools and idiots ! If Bernard were so ravished with the delights of his monastery, where he lived in poverty, without the common pleasures of the world, because of its green banks and shady bowers, and herbs, and trees, and various objects to feed the eyes, and fragrant smells, and sweet and various tunes of birds, together with the opportunity of devout contemplations, that he cries out in admiration. Lord ! what abundance of delights dost thou provide, even for the poor! how then shall I be ravished with

the description of the court of heaven, where, instead of herbs, and trees, and birds, and bowers, I shall enjoy God and my Redeemer, angels, saints, and inexpressible pleasures! and therefore should, with more admiration, cry out. Lord, what delights hast thou provided for us miserable and unworthy wretches that wait for thee ! If the heaven of glass, which the Persian emperor framed, were so glorious a piece ; and the heaven of silver, which the emperor Ferdinand sent to the great Turk, because of their rare artificial representations and motions ; what will the heaven of the heavens then be, which is not formed by the art of man, nor beautified like these childish toys, but is the matchless palace of the great King, built by himself for the residence of his glory, and the perpetual entertainment of his beloved saints ! Can a poor deluded Mahometan rejoice in expectation of a feigned, sensual paradise ; and shall not I rejoice in expectation of a certain glory ? If the honour of the ambitious or the wealth of the covetous person do increase, his heart is lifted up with his estate, as a boat that riseth with the rising of the water. If they have but a little more land or money than their neighbours, how easily you may see it in their countenance and carriage ! How high do they look ; how big do they speak ; how stately and lofty do they demean themselves ! and shall not the heavenly loftiness and height of my spirit discover my title to this promised land ? Shall I be the adopted son of God, and co-heir with Christ of that blessed inheritance, and daily look when I am put into possession ; and shall not this be seen in my joyful countenance ? What if God had made me commander of the earth ? What if the mountains would remove at my command ? What if I could heal all diseases with a word or a touch ? W^hat if the infernal spirits were all at my command ? Should I not rejoice in such privileges and honours as these ? Yet is it my Saviour's command not to rejoice that the devils are subject to us; but in this to rejoice, that our names are written in heaven.

I cannot here enjoy my parents, or my near and beloved friends, without some delight; especially when I did too freely let out my affections to my friend, how sweet was that very exercise of my love ! Oh, what will it then be to live in the perpetual love of God ! For brethren here to live together in unity, how good and pleasant a thing is it ! To see a family live in love ; husband, wife, parents, children, servants, doing all in love to one another. To see a town live together in love, without any envyings, brawlings, heart-burnings, or contentions, scorns, law-suits, factions, or divisions ; but every man loving his neighbour as himself, and thinking they can never do too much for one another, but striving to go beyond each other in love. Oh ! how happy and delectable a sight is this! O sweetest bands, saith Seneca, which bind so happily, that those who are so bound do love their binders, and desire still to be bound more closely, and even reduced into one ! Oh ! then, what a blessed society will be the family of heaven, and those peaceable inhabitants of the new Jerusalem; where is no division, nor dissimilitude, nor differing judgments, nor disaffection, nor

N

CiiAP. XIV. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G37

strangeness, nor deceitful friendship ; never an angry thought or look, never a cutting, unkind expr(\s,sion ; but all are one in Christ, who is one with the Fath(>r, and live in the love of Ia)Vv. himscH'. Cato could say that the soul of a lover dwelleth in the person whom he loveth : and therefore we say. The soul is not more where it liveth and enliveneth, than where it loveth. How near, then, will my soul be closed to God, and how sweet must that conjunction be, when I shall so heartily, strongly, and unccssantly love him ! As the bee lies sucking and satiating herself with the sweetness of the flower ; or rather, as the child lies sucking the mother's breast, enclosed in her arms, and sitting in her lap; even so shall my loving soul be still feeding on the sweetness of the (jod of love. Ah ! wretched, fleshly, unbelieving heart, that can think of such a day, and work, and life as this, with so low, and dull, and feeble joys ! but my enjoying joys will be more lively.

How delectable is it to me to behold and study these inferior works of God ! to read those anatomical lectures of Du Bartas, upon this great dissected body ! What a beautiful fabric is this great house which here w^e dwell in ! The floor so dressed with various herbs, and flowers, and trees, and watered with springs, and rivers, and seas ! The roof so wide expanded, so admirably adorned, such astonishing workmanship in every part! The studies of a hundred ages more, if the world should last so long, would not discover the mysteries of divine skill, which are to be found in the narrow compass of our bodies. What anatomist is not amazed in his search and observations ! What wonders, then, do sun, and moon, and stars, and orbs, and seas, and winds, and fire, and air, and earth, &c. aff"ord us ! And hath God prepared such a house for our silly, sinful, corruptible flesh, and for a soul imprisoned ? and doth he bestow so many millions of wonderful rarities, even upon his enemies ? Oh, then, what a dwelling must that needs be, which he prepareth for pure, refined, spiritual, glorified ones ; and which he will bestow only upon his dearly beloved children, whom he hath chosen out, to make his mercy on them glorified and admired ! As far as our perfected, glorified bodies will excel this frail and corruptible flesh, so far will the glory of the new Jerusalem exceed all the present glory of the creatures. The change upon our mansion will be proportionable to the change upon ourselves. Arise, then, O my soul, by these steps in thy contemplation, and let thy thoughts of that glory, were it possible, as far in sweetness exceed thy thoughts of the excellences below. Fear not to go out of this body, and this world, when thou must make so happy a change as this ; but say as Zuingerus, w hen he was dying, " I am glad, and even leap for joy, that at last the time is come, wherein that, even that mighty Jehovah, whose majesty, in my search of nature, I have admired; whose goodness I have adored; whom in jaith I have desired; whom I have sighed for; will now show himself to me face to face :" and let that be the unfeigned sense of my heart, which Camerarius left in his will should be written on his monument, J'ifa mihi mors est, mors mihi vita nova est; Life is to me a death, death is to me a new life.

Moreover, how wonderful and excellent are the works of Providence, even in this life ! To see the great God to engage himself, and set a-work his attributes, for the safety and advancement of a few humble, despicable, praying persons ! Oh what a joyful time will it then be, when so much love, and mercy, and wisdom, and power, and truth, shall be manifested and glorified in the saints' glorification !

How delightful is it to my soul, to review the working of Providence for myself, and to read over the records and catalogues of those special mercies wherewith my life hath been adorned and sweetened ! How oft have my prayers been heard, and my tears regarded, and my groaning, troubled soul relieved, and my Lord hath bid me be of good cheer ! He hath-healed me when in respect of means I was uncurable. He hath helped me when I was helpless. In the midst of my supplications hath he eased and revived me. He hath taken me up from my knees, and from the dust where I have lain in sorrow and despair : even the cries which have been occasioned by distrust, hath he regarded. What a support are these experiences to my fearful, unbelieving heart! These clear testimonies of my Father's love, do put life into my afflicted, drooping spirit.

Oh, then, what a blessed day will that be, when I shall have all mercy, perfection of mercy, nothing but mercy, and fully enjoy the Lord of mercy himself ! when I shall stand on the shore, and look back upon the raging seas which I have safely passed ! when I shall, in safe and full possession of glory, look back upon all my pains and troubles, and fears and tears, and upon all the mercies which I here received; and then shall behold the glory enjoyed there, which was the end of all this ! Oh, what a blessed view will that be ! O glorious prospect which I shall have on the celestial mount Zion ! Is it possible that there should be any defect of joy; or my heart not raised, when I am so raised ? If one drop of lively faith were mixed with these considerations, oh ! what work would they make in my breast; and what a heaven-ravished heart should I carry within me ! Fain would I believe ; " Lord, help my unbelief."

Yet further, consider, O my soul, how sweet have the very ordinances been unto thee ! what raptures hast thou had in prayer, and under heavenly sermons ! what gladness in days of thanksgiving, after eminent deliverances to the church, or to thyself! what delight do I find in the sweet society of the saints; to be among my humble, faithful neighbours and friends; to join with them in the frequent worship of God; to see their growth and stability, and soundness of understanding ; to see those daily added to the church which shall be saved ! Oh, then, what delight shall I have to see the perfected church in heaven, and to join with these and all the saints in another kind of worship than we can here conceive of! How sweet is it to join in the high praises of God in the solemn assemblies ! How glad have I been to go up to the house of God, especially after long restraint by sickness, when I have been as Hezekiah released, and readmitted to join with the people of God, and to set forth the praises of my great Deliverer ! How sweet is my

work in preaching the gospel, and inviting sinners to the marriage feast of the Lamb, and opening to them the treasures of free grace ! Especially when God blesseth my endeavours with j)lenteous success, and givetii me to see the fruit of my labours ; even this alone hath been a greater joy to my heart, than if I had been made the lord of all the riches on earth.

Oh how can my heart then conceive that joy, which I shall have in my admittance into the celestial temple, and into the heavenly host, that shall do nothing but praise the Lord for ever ! when we shall say to Christ, "• Here am 1, and the children thou hast given me ;" and when Christ shall present us all to his Father, and all are gathered, and the body completed! If the very word of God were sweeter to Job than his necessary food, Job xxiii. 12 ; and to Jeremy, was the very joy and rejoicing of his heart, Jer. xv. 16; and to David, was sweeter than the honey and honeycomb, so that he crieth out, O how I love thy law ! it is my meditation continually : and if thy law had not been my delight, I had perished in my troubles, Psal. cxix. 97, 92, 70, 77, &c. Oh then how blessed a day will that be, when we shall fully enjoy the Lord of this word ; and shall need these written precepts and promises no more; but shall, instead of these love-letters, enjoy our Beloved, and instead of these promises, have the happiness in possession, and read no book but the face of the glorious God ! How far would I go to see one of those blessed angels which appeared to Abraham, to Lot, to John, &c.; or to speak with Enoch, or Elias, or any saint w'ho had lived with God; especially if he would resolve all my doubts, and describe to me the celestial habitations! How much more desirable must it needs be to live with these blessed saints and angels, and to see and possess as well as they ! It is written of Erastus, that he was so desirous to learn, that it would be sweet to him even to die, so he might but be resolved of those doubtful questions wherein he could not satisfy himself. How sweet then should it be to me to die, that I may not only be resolved of all my doubts, but also know what I never before did think of, and enjoy what before I never knew ! It was a happy dwelling that the twelve apostles had with Christ; to be always in his company, and see his face, and hear him open to them the mysteries of the kingdom : but it will be another kind of happiness to dwell with him in glory. It was a rare privilege of Thomas to put his fingers into his wounds to confirm his faith; and of John to be called the disciple whom Jesus loved, on whose breast at supper he was wont to lean : but it will be another kind of privilege which I shall enjoy when I shall see him in his glory, and not in his wounds ; and shall enjoy a fuller sense of his love than John then did; and shall have the most hearty entertainment that heaven aftbrdeth. If they that heard Christ speak on earth, were astonished at his wisdom and answers, and wondered at the gracious words which proceeded from his mouth; how shall I be affected then to behold him in his majesty !

Kouse up thyself, O my soul, and consider; can the foresight of

this glory make others embrace the stake, and kiss the faggot, and welcome the cross, and refuse deliverance ; and can it not make thee cheerful under lesser sufferings ; can it sweeten the flames to them ; and can it not sweeten thy life, or thy sickness, or natural death ? If a glimpse could make Moses's face to shine, and Peter on the mount so transported, and Paul so exalted, and John so rapt up in the Spirit, why should it not somewhat revive me with delight ? Doubtless it would, if my thoughts were more believing. Is it not the same heaven which they and I must live in; is not their God, their Christ, their crown, and mine, the same ? Nay, how many a weak woman, or poor despised Christian, have I seen, mean in parts, but rich in faith, who could rejoice and triumph in hope of this inheritance ! and shall I look upon it with so dim an eye, so dull a heart, so dejected a countenance ? Some small foretastes also I have had myself, though indeed small and seldom, through mine unbelief, and how nmch more delightful have they been than ever was any of these earthly things ! The full enjoyment then will sure be sweet. Remember then this bunch of grapes which thou hast tasted of, and by them conjecture the fruitfulness of the land of promise. A grape in a wilderness cannot be like the plentiful vintage.

Consider also, O my soul, what a beauty is there in the imperfect graces of the Spirit here. Col. iii. 10; so great that they are called the image of God. And can any created excellency have a more honourable title ? Alas, how small a part are these of what we shall enjoy in our perfect state ! Oh how precious a mercy should I esteem it, if God would but take off my bodily infirmities, and restore me to any comfortable measure of health and strength, that I might be able with cheerfulness to go through his work! How precious a mercy then will it be, to have all my corruptions quite removed, and my soul perfected, and my body also raised to so high a state as I now can neither desire nor conceive ! Surely, as health of body, so health of soul doth carry an unexpressible sweetness along with it. Were there no reward besides, yet every gracious act is a reward and comfort. Never had I the least stirring of loving God, but I felt a heavenly sweetness accompany it; even the very act of loving was unexpressibly sweet. What a happy life should I here live, could I but love as nmch as I would, and as oft, and as long as I would! Could I be all love, and always loving, O my soul, what wouldst thou give for such a life ! O had I such true and clear apprehensions of God, and such a true understanding of his word, as I desire; could I but trust him as fully in all my straits; could I have that life which I would have in every duty ; could I make God my constant desire and delight; I would not then envy the world their honours or pleasures; nor change my happiness with a Caesar or Alexander. O my soul, what a blessed state wilt thou shortly be in, when thou shalt have far more of these than thou canst now desire! and shalt exercise all thy perfect graces upon God in presence and open sight, and not in the dark, and at a distance, as now !

And as there is so iiiucli worth in one gracious soul, so much more in a gracious society, and most ol" all in the whole body of Christ on earth : it" there be any true beauty on earth, where should it be so likely as in the spouse of Christ.'' It is her that he adorneth with his jewels, and feasteth at his table ; and keepeth for her always an open liouse and heart: he revealeth to her his secrets, and maintaincth constant converse with her: he is her constant Guardian, and in every deluge encloseth her in his ark : he saith to her. Thou art all beautiful, my beloved! And is his spouse, while black, so comely :' is the afllicted, sinning, weeping, lamenting, persecuted church so excellent ? Oh what then will be the churcli, when it is fully gathered and glorified; when it is ascended from the valley of tears to Mount Sion ; when it shall sin no more, nor weep, nor groan, nor sutler any more ! The stars, or the smallest candle, are not darkened so much by the brightness of the sun, as the excellences of the first temple will be by the celestial temple. The glory of the old Jerusalem will be darkness and deformity, to the glory of the new. It is said in Ezra iii. 12, that when the foundations of the second temple w'ere laid, many of the ancient men who had seen the first house, did weep, i. e. because the second did come so far short of it: what cause then shall we have to shout for joy, when we shall see how glorious the heavenly temple is, and remember the meanness of the church on earth !

But, alas ! what a loss am I at in the midst of my contemplation! I thought my heart had all this while followed after; but I see it doth not: and shall I let my understanding go on alone, or my tongue run on without affections ? W hat life is in empty thoughts and words ? neither God nor I find pleasure in them.

Rather let me run back again, and look, and find, and chide this lazy, loitering heart, that turneth off from such a pleasant work as this : where hast thou been, unworthy heart, while I was opening to thee the everlasting treasures ? Didst thou sleep, or wast thou minding something else ? or, dost thou think that this is all but a dream or fable, or as uncertain as the predictions of a presumptuous astrologer ? or, hast thou lost thy life and rejoicing power { Art thou not ashamed to complain so much of an uncomfortable life, and to murmur at God for filling thee with sorrows, when he offcreth thee in vain the delights of angels, and when thou treadest under foot these transcendent pleasures ? Thou wilfully pinest away in grief, and art ready to charge thy Father with unkindness for making thee only a vessel of displeasure, a sink of sadness, a skinful of groans, a snow-ball of tears, a channel for waters of affliction to run in, the fuel of fears, and the carcass which cares do consume and prey upon, when in the mean time thou mightest live a life of joy J hadst thou now but followed me close, and believingly applied thyself to that which I have spoken, and drunk in but half the comfort which those w'ords hold forth, it would have made thee revive and leap for joy, and forget thy sorrows, and diseases, and pains of the flesh : but seeing thou judgest tluself unw^orthy of comfort, it is iust that comfort should be taken from thee.' 2 T

Lord, what is the matter that this work doth go on so heavily ? did I think my heart had been so backward to rejoice ? If it had been to mourn, and fear, and despair, it were no wonder: I have been lifting up at this stone, and it will not stir; I have been pouring aqua-vitae into the mouth of the dead : I hope. Lord, by that time it comes to heaven, this heart, by thy Spirit, Avill be quickened and mended, or else even those joys will scarcely rejoice me.

But besides my darkness, deadness, and unbelief, I perceive there is something else that forbids my full-desired joys. I'his is not the time and place where so much is given : the time is our winter, and not our harvest; the place is called the valley of tears. There must be great diiference betwixt the way and the end, the work and wages, the small foretastes and full fruition.

But, Lord, though thou hast reserved our joys for heaven, yet hast thou not so suspended our desires; they are most suitable and seasonable in this present life : therefore, O help me to desire till I may possess ; and let me long when I cannot as I would rejoice. There is love in desire as well as in delight ; and if I be not empty of love, I know I shall not long be empty of delight.

Rouse up thyself once more, then, O my soul, and try and exercise thy spiritual appetite ; though thou art ignorant and unbelieving, yet art thou reasonable, and therefore must needs desire a happiness and rest: nor canst thou sure be so unreasonable as to dream of attaining it here on earth. Thou knowest, to thy sorrow, that thou art not yet at thy rest, and thy own feeling doth convince thee of thy present unhappiness : and dost thou know that thou art restless, and yet art willing to continue so ; art thou neither happy in deed nor in desire ; art thou neither well nor wouldst be well ? When my flesh is pained and languisheth under consuming sickness, how heartily and frequently do 1 cry out. Oh ! when shall I be eased of this pain ? v/hen shall my decaying strength be recovered ? There is no dissembling or formality in these desires and groans. How then should I long for my final, full recovery ! There is no sickness, nor pain, nor weeping, nor complaints. Oh when shall I arrive at that safe and quiet harboui-, where is none of these storms, and waves, and dangers ; when I shall never more have a weary, restless night or day ? Then shall not my life be such a medley or mixture of hope and fear, of joy and sorrow, as now it is; nor shall flesh and spirit be combating within me, nor my soul be still as a pitched field, or a stage of contention, where faith and unbelief, affiance and distrust, humility and pride, do maintain a continual distracting conflict: then shall I not live a dying life for fear of dying, nor my life be made uncomfortable with the fears of losing it. Oh when shall I be past these soul-tormenting fears, and cares, and griefs, and passions ? when shall I be out of this frail, this corruptible, ruinous body; this soul-contradicting, insnaring, deceiving flesh ? when shall I be out of this vain and vexatious world, whose pleasures are mere deluding dreams and shadows ; whose miseries are real, numerous, and un-cessant ? How long shall I see the church of Christ lie trodden

under the feet of persecutors ; or else, as a ship in tlie hands of foolish guides, though the supreme Master doth moderate all lor the best.' Alas! that I must stand by and see the church and cause of Christ, like a foot-ball in the midst of a crowd of l)oys, tossed about in contention from one to another; every one running and sweating with foolish violence, and labouring the downfal of all that are in his way, and all to get it into his own power, that he may have the managing of the work himself, and may drive it before him which way he pleaseth ; and when all is done, the best usage it may expect from them, is but to be spurned about in the dirt, till (hey have driven it on to the goal of their private interests, or deluded fancies. There is none of this disorder in the heavenly Jerusalem ; there shall I find a government without imperfection, and obedience without the least unwillingness or rebellion; even an harmonious consent of perfected spirits, in obeying and praising their everlasting King. Oh how much better is it to be a door-keeper there and the least in that kingdom, than to be the conqueror or commander of this tumultuous world ! There will our Lord govern all immediately by himself, and not put the reins in the hands of such ignorant riders, nor govern by such foolish and sinful deputies, as the best of the sons of men now are. Dost thou so mourn for these inferior disorders, O my soul, and yet wouldst thou not be out of it ! How long hast thou desired to be a member of a more perfect reformed church, and to join with more holy, humble, sincere souls, in the purest and most heavenly worship ! Why, dost thou not see that on earth thy desires fly from thee ? Art thou not as a child that thinketh to travel to the sun, when he seeth it rising or setting, as it were close to the earth ; but as he travelleth toward it, it seems to go from him ; and when he hath long wearied himself, it is as far off as ever, for the thing he seeketh is in another world ? Even such hath been thy labour in seeking for so holy, so pure, so peaceable a society, as might afford thee a contented settlement here. Those that have gone as far as America for satisfaction, have confessed themselves unsatisfied still. When wars, and calamities attending them, have been over, I have said. Return now, my soul, unto thy rest, Psal. cxvi.; but how restless a condition hath next succeeded ! When God had given me the enjoyment of peace and friends, and liberty of the gospel; and had settled me even as my own heart desired; I have been ready to say, Soul, take thy ease and rest : but how quickly hath Providence called me fool, and taught me to call my state by another name ! When did I ever begin to congratulate my flesh on its felicity, but God did quickly turn my tune, and made almost the same breath' to end in groaning, which did begin in laughter ! I have thought oft times on the folly of my prosperity. Now I will have one sweet draught of solace and content; but God hath dropped in the gall, while the cup was at my mouth. We are still weary of the present condition, and desire a change, and when we have it, it doth not answer our expectation ; but our discontent and restlessness is still unchanged. In time of peace we thought that

G44 THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. Part IY.

war would deliver us from our disquietments; and when wersaw the iron red-hot, we catched it inconsiderately, thinking that it was gold, till it burned us to the very bone, and so stuck to our fingers, that we scarce know yet whether we are rid of it or not. In this our misery we longed for peace ; and so long were we strangers to it, that we had forgotten its name, and began to call it rest, or heaven ; but as soon as we are again grown acquainted with it, we shall better bethink us, and perceive our mistake. Oh why am I then no more weary of this weariness ? and why do I forget my resting-place ? Jer. 1. 6. Up, then, O my soul, and thy most raised and fervent desires! stay not till this flesh can desire with thee ; its appetite hath a lower and baser object. Thy appetite is not sensitive, but rational; distinct from its; and therefore look not that sense apprehend thy blessed object, and tell thee what and when to desire. Believing reason in the glass of Scripture may discern enough to raise the flame ; and though sense apprehend not that which must draw thy desires, yet that which may drive them it doth easily apprehend. It can tell thee that thy present life is filled with distress and sorrows, though it cannot tell thee what is in the world to come. Thou needest not Scripture to tell thee, nor faith to discern, that thy head acheth, and thy stomach is sick, thy bowels griped, and thy heart grieved ; and some of these, or suchlike, are thy daily case. Thy friends about thee are grieved to see thy griefs, and to hear thy dolorous groans and lamentations, and yet art thou loth to leave this woeful life ! Is this a state to be preferred before the celestial glory; or is it better to be thus miserable from Christ, than to be happy with him ; or canst thou possibly be so unbelieving, as to doubt v/hether that life be any better than this ? O my soul, doth not the dulness of thy desires after rest, accuse thee of most detestable ingratitude and folly ? Must thy Lord procure thee a rest at so dear a rate, and dost thou no more value it ? Must he purchase thy rest by a life of labour and sorrow, and by the pangs of a bitter, cursed death; and when all is done, hadst thou rather be here without it ? Must he go before to prepare so blessed a mansion for such a wretch, and art thou now loth to go to possess it ? Must his blood, and care, and pains be lost ? O unthankful, unworthy soul! shall the Lord of glory be willing of thy company, and art thou unwilling of his ? Are they fit to dwell with God, that had rather stay from him ? Must he crown thee and glorify thee against thy will; or must he yet deal more roughly with thy darling flesh, and leave thee never a corner in thy ruinous cottage for to cover thee, but fire thee out of all, before thou wilt away ? Must every sense be an inlet to thy sorrows ; and every friend become the scourge, and Job's messengers be the daily intelligencers, and bring thee the currantos of thy multiplied calamities, before that heaven will seem more desirable than this earth.' Must every joint, be the seat of pain, and every member deny thee a room to rest in, and thy groans be indited from the very heart and bones, before thou wilt be willing K> leave this flesh ? Must thy heavy burdens be bound upon thy

Chai^. XIV. THE SAINTS' EVEULAST1N(; REST, G4;3

hack; and lliy so intolerable paroxysms lieconie incessant; and thy intermittent aguish woes he turned into continual burning levers ; yea, must earth become a very hell to thee, before thou wilt be willing to be with (iod ? O impudent soul, if thou i)c not ashamed of this ! What is loathing, if this be love .' Look about thee, O my soul; behold the most lovely creature, or the most desirable state, and tell me where wouldst thou be if not with God? Poverty is a burden, and riches a snare. Sickness is little pleasing to thee, and usually health as little safe ; the one is full of sorrow, and the other of sin. The frowning world doth bruise thy heel, and the smiling world doth sting thee to the heart. AVhen it seemeth ugly, it causeth loathing; when beauteous, it is thy bane. \\ hen thy condition is bitter, thou wouldst fain spit it out; and when delightful, it is but sugared misery and deceit: the sweetest poison doth often bring the surest death. So much as the world is loved and delighted in, so much it hurteth and endangereth the lover; and if it may not be loved, why should it be desired ? If thou be applauded, it proves the most contagious breath ; and how ready are the sails of pride to receive such winds ! so that it frequently addeth to thy sin, but not one cubit to the stature of thy worth; and if thou be vilified, slandered, or unkindly used, me-thinks this should not entice thy love. Never didst thou sit by the fire of prosperity and applause, but thou hadst with it the smoke that drew water from thy eyes : never hadst thou the rose without the pricks ; and the sweetness hath been expired, and the beauty faded, before the fears which thou hadst in gathering it were healed. Is it not as good to be without the honey, as to have it with so many smarting stings ? The highest delight thou hast found in any thing below, hath been in thy successful labours and thy godly friends; and have these indeed been so sweet, as that thou shouldst be so loth to leave them ? If they seem better to thee than a life with God, it is time for God to take them from thee. Thy studies have been sweet, and have they not been also bitter ? My mind hath been pleased, but my body pained, and the weariness of the flesh hath quickly abated the pleasures of the spirit. When by painful studies I have not discovered the truth, it hath been but a tedious way to a grievous end ; discontent and trouble purchased by toilsome, wearying labours. And if I have found out the truth by Divine assistance, I have found but an exposed, naked orphan, that hath cost me much to take in, and clothe, and keep, which, though of noble birth, yea, a Divine offspring, and amiable in mine eyes, and worthy I confess of better entertainment, yet, from men that know not its descent, hath drawn upon me their envy and furious opposition; and hath brought the blinded Sodomites, with whom I lived at some peace before, to crowd about me, and assault my doors, that I might prostitute my heavenly guests to their pleasure, and again expose them, whom I had so gladly and lately entertained; yea, the very tribes of Israel have been gathered against me, thinking that the altar which I built for the interest of truth, and unity, and peace, had

been erected to the introduction of error and idolatry : and so the increase of knowledge hath been the increase of sorrow. My heart, indeed, is ravished with the beauty of naked truth, and I am ready to cry out, I have found it, or, as Aquinas, Condiisitm est contra, 8cc.; but when I have found it, I know not what to do with it. If I confine it to my own breast, and keep it secret to myself, it is as a consuming fire, shut up in my heart and bones. liam as the lepers without Samaria, or as those that were forbidden to tell any man of the works of Christ: I am weary of forbearing, I cannot stay. If I reveal it to the world, I can expect but an unwelcome entertainment, and an ungrateful return; for they have taken up their standing in religious knowledge already, as if they were at Hercules' pillars, and had no farther to go, nor any more to learn. They dare be no wiser than they are already, nor receive any more of truth than they have already received, lest thereby they should accuse their ancestors and teachers of ignorance and imperfection, and themselves should seem to be mutable and unconstant, and to hold their opinions in religion with reserves. The most precious truth not apprehended, doth seem to be error and fantastic novelty : every man that readeth what I write, will not be at the pains of those tedious studies to find out the truth as I have been, but think it should meet their eyes in the very reading. If the mere writing of truth, with its clearest evidence, w^ere all that were necessary to the apprehension of it by others, then the lowest scholar in the school might be quickly as good as the highest. So that if I did see more than others, to reveal it to the lazy, prejudiced world, would but make my friends turn enemies, or look upon me with a strange and jealous eye : and yet truth is so dear a friend itself, and he that sent it much more dear, that whatsoever I suifer I dare not stifle or conceal it. Oh what then are these bitter sv/eet studies and discoveries to the everlasting views of the face of the God of truth ! The light that here I have is but a knowing in part, and yet it costeth me so dear, that in a temptation I am almost ready to prefer the quiet, silent night before such a rough, tempestuous day. But there I shall have light and rest together, and the quietness of the night without its darkness. I can never now have the lightning without the thunder, which maketh it seem more dreadful than delightful. And shouldst thou be loth, then, O my soul, to leave this for the eternal perfect light; and to change thy candle for the glorious sun,; and to change thy studies, and preaching, and praying, for the harmonious praises and fruition of the blessed God ?

Nor will thy loss be greater in the change of thy company than of thine employment. Thy friends here have been indeed thy de-bght; and have they not been also thy vexation and thy grief? They are gracious, and are they not also sinful.'' they are kind and loving, and are they not also peevish, froward, and soon displeased? They are humble, but withal, alas ! how proud ! They will scarce endure to hear plainly of their disgraceful faults ; they cannot bear undervaluing or disrespect: they itch after the good thoughts and

applause ol' odiers ; they love those best that highli(\st esteem them. The niisiiing of courtesy; a supposed slighting or disrespect; the contradicting of their wortls or luimours ; a diilerence in opinion, yea, the turning of a straw, will quickly show thee the pride and the uncertainty of thy friend. Their graces are sweet to thee, and their gifts are helpful; but are not their corruptions bitter, and tiieir imperfections hurtful ! Though at a distance they seem to thee most holy and innocent, yet when they come nearer thee, and thou hast thoroughly tried them, alas ! what silly, frail, and froward pieces are the best of men ! Then (he knowledge which thou didst admire, appeareth clouded with ignorance, and the virtues that so shined as a glow-worm in the night, are scarcely to be found when thou seekest them by daylight. When temptations are strong, how quickly do they yield! what wounds have they given to religion by their shameful falls ! Those that have been famous for their holiness, have been as infamous for their notorious, heinous wickedness : those that have been thy dearest bosom friends, that have prayed and conferred with thee, and helped thee toward heaven, and by their fervour, forwardness, and heavenly lives, have shamed thy coldness, and earthliness, and dulness; whom thou hast singled out as the choicest from a world of professors, whom thou madest the daily companions and delights of thy life ; are not some of them fallen to drunkenness, and some to whoredom, some to pride, per-fidiousness, and rebellion, and some to the most damnable heresies and divisions ? And hath thy very heart received such Avounds from tiiy friends, and yet art thou so loth to go from them to thy God ? Thy friends that are weak, are little useful or comfortable to thee; and those that are strong, are the abler to hurt thee; and the best, if not hcedfully used, will prove the worst. The better and keener the knife is, the sooner and deeper will it cut thy fingers, if thou take not heed. Yea, the very number of thy friends is a burden and trouble to thee. Every one supposeth he hath some interest in thee ; yea, the interest of a friend, which is not little; and how insufficient art thou to satisfy all their expectations, when it is much if thou canst answer the expectations of one ! If thou wert divided among so many, as each could have but little of thee, so thyself and God, who should have most, will have none. And almost every one that hath not more of thee than thou canst spare for all, is ready to censure thee as unfriendly, and a neglecter of the duty or respects which thou ov/est them ; anctshouldst thou please them all, the gain will not be great, nor art thou sure that they will again please thee.

Awake then, O my drowsy soul, and look above this world of sorrow. Hast thou borne the yoke of thy afflictions from thy youth, and so long felt the smarting rod, and yet canst no better understand its meaning ? Is not every stroke to drive thee hence ; and is not the voice of the rod like that to Elijah, What doest thou here ? Up and away. Dost tliou forget that sure prediction of thy Lord, " In the world ye shall have trouble, but in me ye shall have peace." The first thou hast found true by long experience, and of

the latter thou hast had a small foretaste^ but the perfect peace is yet before, which, till it be enjoyed, cannot be clearly understood. Ah! my dear Lord, I feel thy meaning. It is written in my flesh : it is engraven in my bones. My heart thou aimest at; thy rod doth drive, thy silken cord of love doth draw, and all to bring it to thyself. And is that all, Lord ? is that the worst ? Can such a heart be worth thy having ? Make it so. Lord, and then it is thine; take it to thyself, and then take me. I can but reach it toward thee, and not unto thee. I am too low, and it is too dull. This clod hath life to stir, but not to rise; legs it hath, but wings it wanteth. As the feeble child to the tender mother, it looketh up to thee, and stretcheth out the hands, and fain would have thee take it up. Though I cannot so freely say, My heart is with thee, my soul longeth after thee; yet can I say, I long for such a longing heart. The twins are yet a striving in my bowels : the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak; the spirit longs, the flesh is loth. The flesh is unwilling to lie rotting in the earth; the soul desires to be with thee. My spirit crieth. Let thy kingdom come; or else, let me come unto thy kingdom: but the flesh is afraid lest thou shouldst hear my prayer, and take me at my word. What frequent contradictions dost thou find in my requests ! because there is such contradiction in myself. My prayers plead against my prayers, and one part begs a denial to the other. No wonder if thou give me such a dying life, when I know not whether to ask for life or death. With the same breath do I beg for a reprieval and removal; and the same groan doth utter my desires and my fears. My soul would go, my flesh would stay. My soul would fain be out, my flesh would have thee hold the door. O, blessed be the grace that makes advantages of my corruptions, even to contradict and kill themselves. For I fear my fears, and sorrow for my sorrows, and groan under my fleshly groans : I loathe my lothness, and I long for greater longings. And while my soul is thus tormented with fears and cares, and with the tedious means for attaining my desires, it acldeth so much to the burden of my troubles, that my weariness thereby is much increased, which makes me groan to be at rest. Indeed, Lord, my soul itself also is in a strait, and what to choose I know not well, but yet thou knowest what to give : to depart, and be with thee, is best; but yet to be in the flesh seems needful. Thou knowest I am not weary of thy work, but of sorrow and sin I must needs be weary: I am willing to stay while thou wilt here employ me, and to despatch the work which thou hast put into my hands, till these strange thoughts of thee be somewhat more familiar, and thou hast raised me into some degree of acquaintance with thyself: but I beseech thee, stay no longer when this is done. Stay not till sin shall get advantage, and my soul grow earthly by dwelling on this earth, and my desires and delights in thee grow dead: but while I must be here, let me be still amending and ascending; make me still better, and take me at the best. I dare not be so impatient of living, as to importune thee to cut off" my time, and urge thee to snatch me hence unready; because

Chai'. XIV. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G40

I know my everlasting state doth so much depend on the improvement of this life. Nor yet would I stay when my work is done ; and remain here sinning, when my brethren are triumphing. I am drowning in tears, while they swim in joys; I am weeping, while they are singing; I am under thy feet, while they arc in thy bosom ; thy footsteps bruise and break this worm, while those stars do shine in the firmament of glory. Thy frowns do kill me, while they are quickened by thy smiles : they are ever living, and 1 am daily dying : their joys are raised by the knowledge of their endlessness; my griefs are enlarged l)y still expecting more: while they possess but one continued pleasure, I bear the successive assaults of fresh calamities. One billow falls in the neck of another; and when I am rising up from under one, another comes and strikes me down. Yet I am thy child, as well as they ; Christ is my Head, as well as theirs: why is there then so great a distance? How differently dost thou use us, when thou art Father to us all ! They sit at thy table, while I must stand without the doors. But I acknowledge the equity of thy ways. Though we are all children, yet I am the prodigal, and therefore meeter in this remote country to feed on husks ; while they are always with thee, and possess thy glory. Though we are all members, yet not the same ; they are the tongue, and fitter to praise thee ; they are the hands, and fitter for thy service ; I am the feet, and therefore meeter to tread on earth, and move in dirt, but unfit to stand so near the head as they. They were once themselves in my condition, and I shall shortly be in theirs : they were of the lowest form, before they came to the highest; they suffered, before they reigned : they came out of great tribulation, who now are standing before thy throne ; and shall not I be content to come to the crown as they did; and to drink of their cup, before I sit with them in the kingdom ? The blessed souls of David, Paul, Austin, Calvin, &c. with all the spirits of the just made perfect, were once on earth, as I am now ; as far from the sight of thy face and glory, as deep in sorrows, as weak, and sick, and full of pains, as I. Their souls were longer imprisoned in corruptible flesh : I shall go but the way that they did all go before me : their house of clay did fall to dust, and so must mine. The world they are now in, was as strange to them before they were there as it is to me. And am I better than all these precious souls ^ I am contented, therefore, O my Lord, to stay thy time, and go thy way ; so thou wilt exalt me also in thy season, and take me into thy barn when thou seest me ripe. In the mean time I may desire, though I am not to repine ; I may look over the hedge, though I may not break over; I may believe and wish, though not make any sinful haste ; I am content to wait, but not to lose thee. And when thou seest me too contented with thine absence, and satisfying and pleasing myself here below, O quicken up then my dull desires, and blow up the dying spark of love ; and leave me not till I am able unfeignedly to cry out. As the hart panteth after the brooks, and the dry land thirsteth for the water-streams, so thirsteth my soul after thee, O God : when shall I come and appear

before the living God? Psal. xlii. 1,2: till my daily conversation be with thee in heaven, and from thence I may longingly expect my Saviour, Phil. iii. 20, 21 : till my aftections are set on things above, where Christ is reigning, and my life is hid. Col. iii. 1—4; till I can walk by faith, and not by sight'; willing rather to be absent from the body, and present with the Lord, 2 Cor. v. 1, G—8. What interest hath this empty world in me ? and what is there in it that may seem so lovely, as to entice my desires and delight from thee, or make me loth to come away ? When I look about me with a deliberate, undeceived eye, methinks this world is a howling wilderness, and most of the inhabitants are untamed, hideous monsters. All its beauty I can wink into blackness, and all its mirth I can think into sadness; I can drown all its pleasures in a few penitent tears, and the wind of a sigh will scatter them away. When I look on them without the spectacles of flesh, I call them nothing, as being vanity, or v/orse than nothing, as vexation. O let not this flesh so seduce my soul, as to make it prefer this weary life, before the joys that are about thy throne: and though death of itself be unwelcome to nature, yet let thy grace make thy glory appear to me so desirable, that the king of terrors may be the messenger of my joy. O let not my soul be ejected by violence, and dispossessed of its habitation against its will, but draw it forth to thyself by the secret power of thy love, as the sunshine in the spring draws forth the creatures from their winter cells ; meet it half way, and entice it to thee, as the loadstone doth the iron, and as the greater flame doth attract the less; dispel therefore the clouds that hide from me thy love, or remove the scales that hinder mine eyes from beholding thee: for only the beams that stream from thy face, and the foresight or taste of thy great salvation, can make a soul uufeignedly to say, Now let thy servant depart in peace ; reading and hearing will not serve. My meat is not sweet to my ear or my eye; it must be a taste or feeling that must entice av/ay my soul: though arguing is the means to bend my will, yet if thou bring not the matter to my hand, and by the influence of thy Spirit make it not eiFectual, I shall never reason my soul to be willing to depart. In the winter, when it is cold and dirty without, I am loth to leave my chamber and fire; but in the summer, when all is warm and green, I am loth to be so confined : show me but the summer fruits and pleasures of thy paradise, and I shall freely quit my earthly cell. Some pleasure I have in my books, my friends, and in thine orcbnances : till thou hast given me a taste of something more sweet, my soul will be loth to part with these : the traveller will hold his cloak the faster when the winds do bluster, and the storms assault him ; but when the sun shines hot, he will cast it off as a burden; so will my soul, when thou frownest, or art strange, be lother to leave this garment of flesh ; but thy smiles would make me leave it as my prison. But it is not thy ordinary discoveries that will here suffice ; as the work is greater, so must be thy help. O turn these fears into strong desires, and this lothness to die into longings after

CiiAi'. XIV. THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. (jol

thee ! While I must be absent from thee, let my soul as heartily groan under thine absence, as my pained body duth under its want of health : and let not those groans be counterfeit, or constrained, but let them come from a longing, loving heart, unfeignedly judging it best to depart, and be with Christ: and if I have any more time to spend on earth, let me live as without the world in thee, as I have sometime lived as without thee in the world. O suffer me not to spend in strangeness to thee another day of this my pilgrimage ! While I have a thought to think, let me not forget thee; while I have a tongue to move, let me mention thee with delight; while I have a breath to breathe, let it be after thee, and for thee ; while I have a knee to bend, let it bow daily at thy footstool; and when by sickness thou confinest me to my couch, do thou make my bed, and number my pains, and put all my tears into thy bottle. And as when my spirit groaned for my sins, the flesh would not second it, but desired that which my spirit did abhor; so now, when my flesh doth groan under its pains, let not my spirit second it, but suffer the flesh to groan alone, and let me desire that day which my flesh abhorreth, that my friends may not with so much sorrow wait for the departure of my soul, as my soul with joy shall wait for its own departure ; and then let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be as his, even a removal to that glory that shall never end. Send forth thy convoy of angels for my departing soul, and let them bring it among the perfect spirits of the just, aiul let me follow my dear friends that have died in Christ before; and when my friends are weeping over my grave, let my spirit be reposed with thee in rest, and when my corpse shall lie there rotting in the dark, let my soul be in the inheritance of the saints in light. And O thou that numberest the very hairs of my head, do thou number all the days that my body lies in the dust : and thou that writest all my members in thy book, do thou keep an account of all my scattered bones. And hasten, O my Saviour, the time of thy return; send forth thine angels, and let that dreadful, joyful trumpet sound: delay not, lest the living give up their hopes : delay not, lest earth should grow like hell, and lest thy church by division be crumbled all to dust, and dissolved by being resolved into individual units : delay not, lest thine enemies get advantage of thy flock, and lest pride, and hypocrisy, and sensuality, and unbelief, should prevail against thy little remnant, and share among them thy whole inheritance, and when thou comest thou find not faith on the earth : delay not, lest the grave should boast of victory; and having learned rebellion of its guest, should plead prescription, and refuse to deliver thee up thy due. O hasten that great resurrection-day ! when thy command shall go forth, and none shall disobey ; when the sea and earth shall yield up their hostages, and all that sleep in the grave shall awake, and the dead in Christ shall first arise ; when the seed that thou sowest corruptible shall come forth incorruptible ; and graves that received but rottenness, and retained but dust, shall return thee glorious stars and suns: therefore dare I lay down my carcass in

the dust, intrusting it not to a grave, but to thee ; and therefore my flesh shall rest in hope, till thou raise it to the possession of the everlasting rest. Return, O Lord ; how long ? O let thj- kingdom come ! Thy desolate bride saith, Come ; for thy Spirit within her saith, Come, who teacheth her thus to pray with groanings after thee which cannot be expressed: the whole creation saith. Come, waiting to be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the sons of God : thyself hath said. Surely I come. Amen. F.ven so come. Lord Jesus.

THE CONCLUSION.

Thus, reader, I have given thee my best advice for the attaining and maintaining a heavenly conversation. The manner is imperfect, and too much mine own, but, for the main matter, I dare say I received it from God. From him I deliver it to thee, and his charge I lay upon thee that thou entertain and practise it. If thou canst not do it methodically and fully, yet do it as thou canst; only, be sure thou do it seriously and frequently. If thou wilt believe a man that hath made some small trial of it, thou shalt find it will make thee another man, and elevate thy soul, and clear thine understanding, and polish thy conversation, and leave a pleasant savour upon thy heart; so that thy own experience will make thee confess that one hour thus spent will more effectually revive thee than many in bare external duties ; and a day in these contemplations will afford thee truer content than all the glory and riches of the earth. Be acquainted with this work, and thou wilt be, in some remote sort, acquainted with God. Thy joys will be spiritual, and prevalent, and lasting, according to the nature of their blessed object ; thou wilt have comfort in life, and comfort in death. When thou hast neither wealth nor health nor the pleasures of this world, yet wilt thou have comfort. Comfort, without the presence or help of any friend, without a minister, without a book; when all means are denied thee, or taken from thee, yet mayst thou have vigorous, real comfort. Thy graces will be mighty, and active, and victorious ; and the daily joy which is thus fetched from heaven, will be thy strength. Thou wilt be as one that standeth on the top of an exceeding high mountain; he looks down upon the -world as if it were quite below him. How small do the fields, and woods, and countries, seem to him ! cities and towns seem but little spots. Thus despicably wilt thou look on all things here below. 'l"he greatest princes will seem below thee but as grasshoppers, and the busy, contentious, covetous world, but as a heap of ants. Men's threatenings will be no terror to thee, nor the honours of this world any strong enticement. Temptations will be more harmless, as having lost their strength ; and afflictions less grievous, as having lost their sting; and every mercy will be better known and relished.

Reader, it is under God in thine own choice now, whether thou wilt live this blessed life or not, and whether all this pains which I have taken for thee shall prosper or be lost. If it be lost through thy la/.iness, which God forbid, be it known to thee thou wilt prove the greatest loser thyself. If thou value not this heavenly, angelical life, how canst thou say that thou vainest heaven '. And if thou value it not, no wonder if thou be shut out. The power of godliness lieth in the actings of the soul; take heed that thou stick not in the vain, deluding form. O man, what hast thou to mind but God and heaven ! Art thou not almost out of this world already ? Dost thou not lo(.)k every day, when one disease or other will let out thy soul!" Doth not the bier stand ready to carry thee to the grave; and the worms wait to feed upon thy face and heart.' What if thy pulse must beat a fev/ strokes more ; and what if thou have a few more breaths to fetch before thou breathe out thy last; and what if thou have a few more nights to sleep before thou sleep in the dust ? Alas ! what will this he when it is gone ? and is it not almost gone already ? Verily, shortly thou wilt see thy glass run out, and say thyself. My life is done ; my time is gone; it is past recalling ; there is nothing now but heaven or hell before me. O, where then should thy heart be now but in heaven ! Didst thou but know what a dreadful thing it is to have a strange and doubtful thought of heaven when a man lies a dying, it would sure rouse thee up. And what other thoughts, but strange, can that man have, that never thought seriously of heaven till then ? Every man's • first thoughts are strange about all things ; familiarity and acquaintance come not in a moment, but is the consequent of custom, and frequent converse : and strangeness naturally raiseth dread, as familiarity doth delight. What else makes a fish or a wild beast flee from a man, when domestic creatures take pleasure in his company ^ So wilt thou flee from God, if thou knewest how, who should be thy only happiness, if thou do not get this strangeness removed in thy life-time. And is it not pity that a child should be so strange to his own Father, as to fear nothing more than to go into his presence; and to think himself best v/hen he is furthest from him ; and to flee from his face as a wild creature will do from the face of a man ? Alas ! how little do many godly ones differ from the world, either in their comforts or willingness to die ! and all because they live so strange to the place and fountain of their comforts. Besides a little verbal or other outside duties, or talking of controversies and doctrines of religion, or forbearing the practice of many sins, how little do the most of the religious differ from other men, when God hath prepared so vast a difference hereafter ! If a word of heaven fall in now and then in their conference, alas ! how slighty is it, and customary, and heartless ! And if their prayers or preaching have heavenly expressions, they usually are fetched from their mere invention, or memory, or books, and not from the experience or feeling of their hearts. Oh what a life might men live if they were but willing and diligent ! God would have our joys to be far more than our sorrows, yea, he would have us to have

no sorrow but what tendeth to joy, and no more than our sins have made necessary for our good. How much do those Christians wrong God and themselves, that either make their thoughts of God the inlet of their sorrows, or let these offered joys lay by, as neglected or forgotten ! Some there be that say it is not worth so much time and trouble, to think of the greatness of the joys above ; so we can make sure they are ours, we know they are great. But as these men obey not the command of God, which requireth them to have their conversation in heaven, and to set their affections on things above, so do they wilfully make their own lives miserable, by refusing the delights that God hath set before them. And yet, if this were all, it w^ere a smaller matter : if it were but loss of their comforts, I would not say so much; but see what abundance of other mischiefs do follow the absence of these heavenly delights.

First, It will damp, if not destroy, our very love to God: so deeply as we apprehend his bounty and exceeding love to us, and his purpose to make us eternally happy, so much will it raise our love : love to God, and delight in him, are still conjunct. They that conceive of God as one that desireth their blood and damnation, cannot heartily love him.

Secondly, It will make us have seldom and unpleasing thoughts of God, for our thoughts will follow our love and delight. Did v/e more delight in God than in any thing below, our thoughts would as freely run after him, as now they run from him.

Thirdly, And it will make men to have as seldom and unpleasing speech of God ; for who will care for talking of that which he hath no delight in? What makes men still talking of worldliness, or wickedness, but that these are more pleasant to them than God ?

Fourthly, It will make men have no delight in the service of God, when they have no delight in God, nor any sweet thoughts of heaven, which is the end of their services. No wonder if such Christians complain that they are still backward to duty ; that they have no delight in prayer, in sacraments, or in Scriptvu'e itself. If thou couldst once delight in God, thou wouldst easily delight in duty, especially that which bringeth thee into the nearest converse with him. But, till then, no wonder if thou be weary of all, further than some external excellency may give thee a carnal delight. Doth not this cause many Christians to go on so heavily in secret duties ? Like the ox in the furrow, that will go no longer than he is driven, and is glad when he is unyoked,

P^ifthly, Yea, it much endangereth the perverting of men's judgments, concerning the ways of God, and means of grace, when they have no delight in God and heaven. Though it be said, perit omne judicium cum res transit in affectum, that judgment perisheth when things pass into affection ; yet, that is but when affection leadeth the judgment, and not when it followeth. Affection holdeth its object faster than bare judgment doth. The soul will not much care for that truth which is not accompanied with suitable goodness ; and it will more easily be drawn to believe that to be which it doth not delightfully apprehend to be good; which

THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G.3.3

doubtless is no small cause of the ungodly's prejudice against the ways of God, and of many formal men's dislike of extomporatc prayers, and of a strict observation of the Lord's day. 1 lad they a true delight in God and heavenly things, it would rectify their judgments better than all the arguments in the world. Lose this ilelight once, and you will begin to quarrel with the ordinances and ways of God, and to be more offended at the preacher's imperfections than profited by the doctrine.

Sixthly, And it is the want of these heavenly delights in God that makes men so entertain the delights of the flesh. This is the cause of most men's voluptuousness and flesh-pleasing. The soul will not rest without some kind of delights. If it had nothing to delight in, either in hand or in hope, it would be in a kind of hell on earth, vexing itself with continual sorrow and despair. If a dog have lost his master, he will follow somebody else. Men must have their sweet cups, or delicious faro, or gay apparel, or cards, or dice, or fleshly lusts, to make up their want of delight in God. How well these will serve instead of God, our wanton youths will be better able to tell nie, when we meet at judgment. If men were acquainted with this heavenly life, there would need no laws against sabbath-breaking and riotousness; nor would men need to go for mirth to an ale-house or a tavern; they would have a far sweeter pastime and recreation nearer hand.

Seventhly, Also, this want of heavenly delights will leave men under the power of every affliction; they will have nothing to comfort them and ease them in their sufferings, but the empty, un-effectual pleasures of the flesh; and when that is gone, where then is their delight ?

Eighthly, Also, it will make men fearful, and unwilling'to die : for who would go to a God or a place that he hath no delight in ? or who would leave his pleasure here, except it w^ere to go to better .'' Oh, if the people of God would learn once this heavenly life, and take up their delight in God whilst they live, they would not tremble and be disconsolate at the tidings of death.

Ninthly, Yea, this want of heavenly delight doth lay men open to the power of every temptation. A little thing will tice a man from that which he hath no pleasure in.

Tenthly, Yea, it is a dangerous preparative to total apostacy. A man will hardly long hold on in a way that he hath no delight in, nor use the means, if he have no delight in the end ; but, as a beast, if you drive him in a way that he would not go, will be turning out at every gap. If you be religious in your actions, and be come over to God in your outward conversation, and not in your delight, you will shortly be gone if your trial be strong. How many young people have we known, who by good education, or the persuasion of friends, or for fear of hell, have been awhile kept up among prayers, and sermons, and good company, as a bird in a cage, when, if they durst, they had rather have been in an alehouse, or at their sports ; and at last they have broken loose, when their restraint was taken off, and have forsaken the way that they

never took pleasure in ! You see then, that it is not a matter of indifFerency, whether you entertain these heavenly delights or not; nor is the loss of your present comfort all the inconvenience that follows the neglect.

And now, Christian friends, I have here lined you out a heavenly, precious work : would you hut do it, it would make you mend indeed. To delight in God is the work of angels, and the contrary is the work of devils. If God would persuade you now to make conscience of this duty, and help you in it hy the blessed influence of his Spirit, you would not change your lives with the greatest prince on earth. But I am afraid, if I may judge of your hearts by the backwardness of my own, that it will prove a hard thing to persuade you to the work, and that much of this my labour will be lost. Pardon my jealousy ; it is raised upon too many and sad experiments. What say you ? Do you resolve on this heavenly course or no ? Will you let go all your sinful, fleshly pleasures, and daily seek after these higher delights ? I pray thee, reader, here shut the book, and consider of it; and resolve on the duty before thou go farther. Let thy family perceive, let thy neighbours perceive, let thy conscience perceive, yea, let God perceive it, that thou art a man that hast thy daily conversation in heaven. God hath now offered to be thy daily delight. Thy neglect is thy refusal. What! refuse delight; and such a delight ? If I had propounded you only a course of melancholy, and fear, and sorrow, you might better have demurred on it. Take heed what thou dost: refuse this, and refuse all. Thou must have heavenly delights, or none that are lasting. God is willing that thou shouldst daily walk with him, and fetch in consolation from the everlasting fountain. If thou be unwilling, even bear thy loss ; and one of these days, when thou liest dying, then seek for comfort where thou canst get it, and make what shift for contentment thou canst. Then see whether thy fleshly delights will stick to thee, or give thee the slip; and then conscience, in despite of thee, shall make thee remember, that thou wast once persuaded to a way for more excellent pleasures, that would have followed thee through death and have lasted thee to everlasting. What man will go in rags, that may be clothed with the best; or feed on pulse, that may feed of the best; or accompany with the vilest, that may be a companion to the best, and admitted into the presence and favour of the.greatest ? And shall we delight so much in our clothing of flesh, and feed so much on the vain pleasures of earth, and accomj^jany so much with sin and sinners, when heaven is set open, as it were, to our daily view, and God doth offer us daily admittance into his presence ? Oh how is the unseen God neglected, and the unseen glory forgotten, and made light of! And all because they are unseen, and for want of that faith which is (he substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things that are not seen, Heb. xi. 1.

But for you, sincere believers, whose hearts God hath weaned from all things here below, I hope you will value his heavenly life, and fetch one walk daily in the new Jerusalem. I know God is

your lovo, and your desire; and I know you would fain be more acquainted with your Saviour ; and I know it is your grief that your hearts are not more near him ; and that they do no more freely and passionately love him, and delight in him. As ever you would have all this mended, and enjoy your desires, O try this life of meditation on your everlasting rest ! Here is the Mount Ararat, where the fluctuated ark of your souls must rest. Oh ! let the world see, by your heavenly lives, that religion lieth in something more than opinions and disputes, and a task of outward duties ; let men see in you, what a life they must aim at. If ever a Christian be like himself, and answerable to his principles and profession, it is when he is most serious and lively in his duty : when as Moses, .before he died, went up into Mount Ncbo, to take a survey of the land of Canaan ; so the Christian doth ascend this mount of contemplation, and take a survey, by faith, of his rest. He looks upon the glorious, delectable mansions, and saith, " Glorious things are" deservedly " spoken of thee, O thou city of God." He heareth, as it were, the melody of the heavenly choir, and beholdeth the excellent employment of those spirits, and saith, " Blessed are the people that are in such a case ; yea, blessed are they that have the Lord for their God." He next looketh to the glorified inhabitants of that region, and saith, " Happy art thou, O the Israel of God, a people saved by the Lord, the shield of thy strength, the sword of thine excellency." When he looketh upon the Lord himself, who is their glory, he is ready with the rest to fall down and worship him that liveth for ever, and say, " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come : thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power." When he looks on the glorified Saviour of the saints, he is ready to say Amen to that new song, " Blessing, honour, glory, and power, be to him that sitteth on the throne and to the Lamb for ever and ever ; for he hath redeemed us out of every nation by his blood, and made us kings and priests to God." When he looketh back on the wilderness of this world, he blesseth the believing, patient, despised saints; he pitieth the ignorant, obstinate, miserable world ; and for himself, he saith, as Peter, " It is good to be here ;" or, as David, " It is good for me to draw near to God :" for all those that are far from him shall perish.

Thus as Daniel in his captivity did three times a day open his window toward Jerusalem, though far out of sight, when he went to God in his devotions ; so may the believing soul, in this captivity to the flesh, look towards Jerusalem which is above : and as Paul was to the Colossians, so may he be, with the glorified spirits, absent in the flesh, but present in spirit, joining in beholding their heavenly order, Col. ii. 5. And as divine Bucholcer, in his last sermon before his death, did so sweetly descant upon those comfortable words, " Whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life," John iii. 16, that he raised and ravished the hearts of his otherwise sad hearers ; so may the meditating believer do, through the Spirit's assistance, by his own heart. And

as the pretty lark cloth sing most sweetly, and never ceaseth her pleasant ditty, while she hovereth aloft, as if she were there gazing into the glory of the sun, but is suddenly silenced when she falleth to the earth ; so is the frame of the soul most delectable and divine while it keepeth in the views of God by contemplation : but, alas ! we make there too short a stay, but down again we fall, and lay by our nmsic.

But, O Thou, the merciful Father of spirits, the attractive of love, and ocean of delights, draw up these drossy hearts unto thy- ^ self, and keep them there till they are spiritualized and refined ; and second these thy servant's weak endeavours, and persuade those that read these lines to the practice of this delightful, heavenly work. And, O suffer not the soul of thy most unworthy servant to be a stranger to those joys which he unfoldeth to thy people, or to be seldom in that way which he hath lined out here to others; but O keep me while I tarry on this earth, in daily serious breathings after thee, and in a believing, aifectionate walking with thee : and when thou comest, O let me be found so doing, not hiding my talent, nor serving my flesh, nor yet asleep with my lamp unfurnished, but waiting and longing for my LoVd's return : that those who shall read these heavenly directions, may not reap only the fruit of my studies, and the product of my fancy, but the breathings of my active hope and love : that if my heart were open to their view, they might there read the same most deeply engraven with a beam from the face of the Son of God ; and not find vanity, or lust, or pride within, where the words of life appear without: that so these lines may not witness against me ; but proceeding from the heart of the writer, may be effectual, through thy grace, upon the heart of the reader; and so be the savour of life to both. Amen.

Glory be to God in the liighest; On earth peace : Good-will towards men.

BROUGHTON

IN THE

CONCLUSION OF HIS CONSENT OF SCRIPTURE,

CONCERNING THE NEW JERUSALEM, AND THE EVERLASTING SABBATISM, MEANT IN MY TEXT, AS BEGUN HERE, AND PERFECTED IN HEAVEN.

The company of faithful souls called to the blessed marriage of the Lamb, are a Jerusalem from heaven, Apoc. iii.; xxi. ; Heb. xii. Though such glorious things are spoken concerning this city of God, the perfection whereof cannot be seen in this vale of tears ; yet here God wipeth all tears from our eyes, and each blessing is here begun. The name of this city much helpeth Jew and Gentile to see the state of peace, for this is called Jerusalem^ and that in

Canaan hath Christ destroyed: this name should clearly have taught both the Hebrews not to look and pray daily for to return to Canaan, and pseudo-catholics not to light for special holiness there. We live in this by faith, and not by eye-.sight, and by hope we behold the perfection : of this city, salvation is a wall, goodly as jasper, clear as crystal: the foundations are in nund)er twelve, of twelve precious stones, such as Aaron wore on his breast, all the work of the Land)'s twelve apostles : the gates are twelve, each of pearl, upon which are the names of the twelve tribes of Israel, of whose faith all must be which enter in; twelve angels are conductors from east, west, north, and south, even the stars of the churches : the city is square ; of burgesses settled for all turns. Here God sitteth upon a throne like jasper and rul)y, comfortable and just: the Lamb is the temple, that a third temple should not be looked for to be built. Thrones twice twelve are for all the Christians born of Israel's twelve, or taught by the apostles, who for dignity are seniors, for infinity are termed l)ut four and twenty, in regard of so many tribes and apostles. Here the majesty is honourable, as at the delivery of the law, from whose throne, thunder, voices, and lightnings do proceed : here oil of grace is never wanting, but burning with seven lamps, the Spirit of IMessias, of wit and wisdom, of counsel and courage, of knowledge and understanding, and of the fear due to the Eternal: here the valiant, patient, witty, and speedy, with sharp sight, are winged as those seraphims that waited on Christ, when ten calamities and utter destruction was told for the low Jerusalem : they of this city are not as Israel after the flesh, which would not see, for all the wonders that our Lord did; but these redeemed with his precious blood are full of eyes lightened by lamps, the glory of Jehovah, and behold Christ through all the prophets, a Performer of our faith, sealed of God, Sealer of all visions. Opener of seals or the stories of the church, John vi. ; Dan. ix. 24; Apoc. vi. Here is the true light, where the saved walk, Isa. Ix.; hither kingdoms bring their glory; hither the blessed nations carry their jewels, Apoc. xxi. This is a kingdom uncorrupted, which shall not be given to a strange and unclean people ; they must be written in the book of the Lamb, and chosen of eternity, sanctified of God, which here are citizens, Eph. i. 4; ii. 19 : through this there gusheth a stream better than the four in Eden, a stream of lively waters by belief in Christ, as those waters flowing from Lebanon, Cant. iv. 1.'5 : here is that Tree of Life in the midst of the paradise of God, with leaves to heal the nations that will be cured, while it is said to-day, with twelve fruits to give food continually to such as feed also upon the hiddon manna, who after death receive the crown of justice and life, the morning-star, white clothing, and the white stone, wdierein a name is written equal to all the law, Deut. xxvii. 2. The first seat of the first Adam in the first paradise was glorious; this is better; and as Moses began wifh the terrestrial, so the holy word ends in the celestial; that to wheels full of eyes may the writ of trutl^be compared : the full consent and melody of prophets and apostles, how

their harps are tuned on Mount Sion, Apoc. xiv., it will fully appear in the full sight of peace, when our bodies are made conformable to Christ's glorious body, Phil. iii. 21, in the world to come, and our eyes shall see the Lord in that Sion. For that coming, " O thou whom my soul loveth, be like to the roes upon the moun-tainSj" Cant. i. 1; ii. 17. Amen. Even so come. Lord Jesus, Then shall we in perfect holiness worship thee, to whom the angels always give holy worship, saying, " Praise, and glory, and wisdom, and thanks, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God for evermore." Amen.

A POEM

OF

MASTER G. HERBERT, IN HIS "TEMPLE."

HOME.

Come, Lord, my head doth burn, my heart is sick.

While thou dost ever, ever stay, Thy long deferrings wound me to the quick ; My spirit gaspeth night and day.

O show thyself to me, Or take me up to thee. How canst thou stay, considering the pace

The blood did make which thou didst waste ? When I behold it trickling down his face, I never saw thing make such haste.

O show thyself to me, Or take me up to thee. When man was lost, thy pity look'd about.

To see what help in th' earth or sky; But there was none, at least no help without. The help did in thy bosom lie.

O show thyself to me, Or take me up to thee. There lay thy Son; and must he leave that nest.

That hive of sweetness, to remove Thraldom from those, who would not at a feast Leave one poor apple for thy love ?

O show thyself to me, Or take me up to thee. He did, he came. O my Redeemer dear.

After air this canst thou be strange ? So many years baptiz'd, and not appear ?

As if thy love could fail or change, m O show thyself to me,

Or take me up to thee.

THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. G61

Yet if thou stayest still, why must I stay ?

My God, what is the world to me ? This world of woe. Hence, all ye clouds, away; Away : I must get up and see.

O show thyself to me, Or take me up to thee. What is this w^eary world ? this meat and drink,

That chains us by the teeth so fast { What is this womankind, which I can wink Into a blackness and distaste ?

. O show thyself to me,

Or take me up to thee. With one small sigh thou gav'st me th' other day,

I blasted all the joys about me ; And scowling on them as they pin'd away. Now come again, said I, and flout me. O show thyself to me. Or take me up to thee. Nothing but drought and dearth, but bush and brake.

Which way soe'er I look, I see ; Some nlay dream merrily, but when they awake. They dress themselves, and come to thee. O show thyself to me. Or take me up to thee. We talk of harvests ; there are no such things.

But when we leave our corn and hay : There is no fruitful year, but that which brings The last and lov'd, though dreadful day. O show thyself to me. Or take me up to thee.

O loose this frame ; this knot of man untie.

That my free soul may use her wing. Which is now pinion'd with mortality. As an entangled, hamper'd thing.

O show thyself to me. Or take me up to thee.

What have I left that I should stay and groan;

The most of me to heaven is fled : My thoughts and joys are all pack'd up and gone. And for their old acquaintance plead. O show thyself to me. Or take me up to thee.

Come, dearest Lord, pass not this holy season ;

My flesh and bones and joints do pray; And ev'n my verse, when by the rhyme and reason The word is Stay, says ever, Come.

O show thyself to me. Or take me up to thee.

AN ADDITION

THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER OF THE THIRD PART OF THE SAINTS' REST.

It hath seemed meet to Mr. K. to second Mr. Crandon, by an impetuous opposition of my poor labours; and having in his first volume against Mr. G. assaulted my " Aphorisms;" in the second, to fall upon my " Method for Peace of Conscience," and my book of " Rest;" against the twelfth chapter (misprinted the eleventh) of the third part, he hath a copious digression, which I will not now characterize, either as to the intellectuals or morals, the judgment or honesty appearing in it; having reserved that to a second and plain admonition to himself. But because I intended these writings for ordinary capacities, I would have nothing remain in them which may be an occasion of their stumbling; for the sake therefore of such readers as would neither err, nor be puzzled with contentious janglings about mere words, I shall give them this brief advertisement following. It is so far from my desire to teach men to build the peace of their consciences upon any nice philosophical controversies, much less on any errors or singular opinions of mine, that I desire nothing more than to lead them to, and leave them on, the plain, infallible word of God. My own judgment concerning that sincere, saving grace, which we may safely try our estates by, I have as plainly as I could laid down in that chapter, and my " Directions for Peace;" and in sect. 39, to sect. 53, of my " Reply to Mr. Blake :" from whence I must desire the reader to fetch it, and not from the interpretations of Mr. K., which so seldom hath the hap to be acquainted with the truth, and who professeth himself that he doth not understand me : whether it be long of me or himself I determine not. To these I shall now add only these few words.

The everlasting enjoyment of God in glory by perfected man, is the felicity which all should desire and seek. This is propounded to us by God in his word, and the necessary mean thereto prescribed; even Jesus Christ, and faith in him, and obedience to him, and to God in and by him. The distempered, sensual appetite, and depraved will of man, do incline to inferior sensual delights. God hath resolved that these shall not be their felicity, and that they shall never be happy in the enjoyment of him, except they take him for their chief good, and so far forsake inferior good which would draw the heart from him : and except also they give up themselves to his Son Jesus Christ, and to his Spirit, to be recovered unto him. Though all men by nature desire to be happy ; yet all do not desire God as their happiness. Nor do the regenerate themselves yet perfectly desire him, or perfectly forsake that

THE SAINTS' KVEllLASTING REST. GGJ

inferior good ; which was their supposed happiness l)ef()r(^ they wore renewed. The understanding is eonunoiily acknouh'dged to have three kinds of acts: 1. A simple appreliension of the mere entity of a thing, or of a simple term ; 2. Judgment, or the conception of a complex term ; 3. Discourse. The first alone moves not the will, because it concludes not of the goodness or evil of the thing apprehended. The second, judgment, is either about the end or the means : and either absolute or comparative. Several things are commonly called man's enil,how properly I now inquire not. 1. Felicity in general: '2. Ilnnstdf the subject, commonly called the _/i/iis cui: 3. The natural and moral perfection of his person : 4. The act of fruition, or perfect complacency in the blessed object upon a full vision; commonly called, our formal felicity: 5. The object itself, that is, the blessed God, commonly called our objective felicity, and our Jinis qui, or cujus, whether fitly, we shall better know hereafter. The two first nature hath tied us to ; but not to the object, nor to the perfection of the soul in a spiritual suitableness thereto. The first absolute judgment produceth in the will a simple complacency or displacency ; this is the first motion of the will. The comparative judgment, where it is necessary, produceth intention and election, or else refusal, and resolves the fluctuating will. Where there is but one good propounded, either one objective end, or one means of absolute necessity, or wherever there is o)nnimodo ratio bo?ii, nothing but good apparent in the object, there is no work for consultation, or the comparative act of judgment, and consequently for election: but the absolute judgment would proceed to be practical, and carry out the will to intention and prosecution : were not man's soul blinded and depraved, there should be no deliberation about his end, and so no choosing of God as our end, but an absolute intending him, as having no competitor : and it cannot be without great sin for the judgment to make any question or comparison, and so to deliberate. Whether God or the creature be our felicity !" and. Whether God or our carnal selves should be our end? But seeing our depraved judgment and will, and vitiated senses, and the tempter's setting the creature in competition with God, do necessitate a comparative judgment and deliberation, even about our end itself; therefore there is a kind of election of God as l)efore the creature, or a consent or resolution so to prefer him, that is necessary, before or with a right intention and prosecution of that end: besides, the election of the new means, that is necessary ; seeing Satan and our flesh are so ready to propound wrong means, in competition with the means of God's prescribing. All this being so, 1 further add, that the same will that hath a complacency in a thing as judged simply good, may yet reject and nill it, or refuse to seek or receive it, if it be judged either a lesser good inconsistent with a greater, or any way to have more evil in it than good: and as the understanding doth at once apprehend it as good absolutely, or in some respect; and evil in other respects, and coniparatively less good; so doth the will at once continue to love or will it so far as it is apprehended

as good; and to nill and reject it as inconsistent with a greater good, or a hinderer of it. But if it fall out that the inconsistency of these is not discerned or believed, or but imperfectly, then may the will, by a practical volition, will them both.

To apply this. The understanding of the unregenerate may know that God is good, and good to them, and that in very many and weighty respects he is desirable. They may know that worldly things will shortly leave them, and then if they have not God's favour they shall perish ; but if they have, they shall attain both perfection of body, (which they may desire,) and perfection of mind, (which they do desire in general, and may submit to in the particular way of holiness, as more tolerable than hell,) besides some imperfect, ineffectual knowledge of a beauty and desirableness in holiness itself, accompanied with an answerable motion of the will : but every unrenewed man hath more prevalent apprehensions of the goodness of the creature, partly by unmastered sense, and partly by perverted reason, and therefore apprehendeth God as evil to him; so far as he would hinder his enjoyment thereof, or would punish him for a sinful adhering to it. So that, 1. His highest practical estimation is of the creature, yet not without some esteem of God : 2, And his prevailing will is to the creature, but not without some will to God. And, ordinarily, such men are so fully convinced of the impossibility of enjoying the creature for ever, and being happy any other way than in God, that, though they could wish an ev(>rlasting fulness of the creature, yet, seeing none but fools do intend an end which they know impossible to be attained, they do therefore compound a felicity in their own fancies, of the world for a time, and heaven for everlasting : one part standing in the enjoyment of the delights of the flesh, while they live here, and the other in the deliverance from hell and blessedness in heaven hereafter ; hoping that these are not inconsistent, but they may have heaven when t^hey can enjoy the world no longer : because they see that many saints possess abundance of earthly blessings, and persecution is not now so common as it hath been, therefore they suppose they may possess the like ; upon which expectation they enjoy what the godly do but use, and so give it the pre-eminence in their hearts : or if they be convinced of the inconsistency of a carnal mind, (in a prevalent degree,) with an interest in the happiness of the life to come, they will either persuade themselves that they are not carnally-minded when they are, or, one way or other, will underprop their hopes of enjoying both : but still their fleshly mind is predominant, and therefore they will cast their salvation upon the adventure of such hopes as have nothing but their own delusions to support them.

On the other side, the regenerate being here imperfect in all their graces, are imperfectly taken off those carnal ends which they intended in their unsanctified state, and imperfectly inclined to God as their end : so are they also, both in discerning and choosing the fittest means, even Christ himself and obedience to him ; so that the best are carnally-minded, in some degree, but not in a pre-

THE SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST. GG.3

valent degree, for then they should die. The flesh and world have still some interest in the saints, hut not the strongest; as (iod and the J^edeenier may have some interest, though not the chioffst, in the i)ractical judgment and will of the unsanctified. Whether you will say, that the same man hath two distinct inconsistent (mkIs, one as regenerate, the other so far as he is still carnal; or whether you will give the name of an end only to that good which hath the greatest interest in him, I will not contend about a word. If that only be called our end, which is prevalently intended in the main course of our lives, then it is God only that is our end ; but if that may be called a man's end which is intended in his distempers and deviations, then the creature may be called our end so far as we are still carnal: for it is not only as a wrong-chosen means to our right end, that we sinfully adhere to the creature ; but it is more as it stands in competition with our right end, and as we will and love our flesh-pleasing for itself. It is true, the sensual appetite may desire it for itself, because it belongs not to it to carry us higher, and to intend an end; but the rational power must subordinate both creatures and our natural delight in them to God. And I do not think that it is by the mere brutish irrational motion that the godly adhere too much to the creature.

I did therefore deliver my thoughts on this point thus : that as the act is denominated from the object, and specified by it, so the grace that is saving must, as to the acts, consist not only in the absolute, but comparative judgment, and in that choice or comparative willing that follows thereupon ; and though there be forty intricate, philosophical controversies about man's willing the end and means, which stand in their way that would make the most exact discussion of this point, yet every Christian may safely go on these grounds, and conclude that when Christ's interest is predominant, or greatest in the soul, there is saving grace ; but where it is not, there is none, though yet he may have some interest there. Here is a double pre-eminence that Christ must have, or a double prevalency of grace, that it may be saving. 1. The object must be preferred before that which stands in competition with it. 2. The act must be prevalent in degree against its contrary, so far as that the heart and life may be denominated from it. 1. The absolute act of the judgment makes no comparison; therefore in that only the latter nuist be looked after. Assent to God's word upon his authority, nmst be prevalent against our dissent; and that will appear in our serious obeying it, &.c. 2. In the comparative act of the judgment there must be both. God nmst be valued and esteemed above all creatures; and our esteem must be prevalent against our slighting and disesteem of him. 3. The main point of trial is the will, and there must be both these prevalencies before mentioned. God must be willed as better than all creatures ; and our willing of him must be in a prevalent degree against our nilling or unwilling. For there is in the best on earth some remainders of averseness to God, which may be called a hating of him, so far as they are carnal; though they are not therefore fitly to be called

haters of God, but lovers of him, because they must be denominated from the prevalent part. The like may be said of all the affections, so far as they are of the rational part; for of the sensitive passions there is not so sure a judgment to be made, as I expressed p. 110, and in my " Method for Peace of Conscience." In the choice of means all this is clear, if not much more. Christ must be preferred before all competitors, and all rejected for him; and our willingness must be in a degree that is prevalent against our unwillingness, and our faith as prevalent against unbelief, and our subjection must prevail against our rebellion, and our obedience against our disobedience in the course of our lives. He must have the main bent of our hearts and endeavours, though in a particular act the flesh may prevail; This is it that I have asserted, and with a consent to this I am satisfied. As for the point of specification of our acts, I never look to see the schools agreed about it, how confidently soever Mr. K. talks, as if they all conspired with him. Call the difference gradual or specifical, as you please, so we agree in the sense, I am content. I choose to call it a moral, specifical difference, and in that sense do maintain, that the faith of the best of the unsanctified is not specifically the same with that of the sanctified, and so of love and other graces. As to that saving faith, all other is but analogically called faith, as I have showed in the section before cited against Mr. Blake. But yet I am not of Mr. K.'s opinion about the natural specification of acts, for all his confidence. I yet think that acts are naturally, and not only morally, specified from their objects, considered physically; and are morally specified by those objects, as related to the laws that command, forbid, threaten, promise, and so by the laws themselves ; which Dr. Twiss will needs say are no species of acts, though vulgarly so called, V^ind. Grat. lib. ii. par. 2. digres. 9. p. 410.

I now desire no more of the reader than to consent, 1. To the express words of Scripture which J cited in that chap. xi. sect. 15, which I desire him to review ; 2. *And to that which Mr. K. and I are agreed in. I hope you will take this for a reasonable motion, it being unlike that the Cretian pen of so bold a man, so self-conceited, and superciliously scornful, should grant me much more than he needs must. Let us examine his concessions for matter and words. 1. For sense, he confesseth, p. 137, thus: "I am of Mr. Baxter's mind, that no sober divine will tell us, that if we love God never so little without dissembling, yet he will accept it, though we love our lusts before him." So oft he yieldeth that all sincere love to God doth prefer him before all other. Where then is our difference ? Why, he thinks that no others believe or love God at all but those that love him above all. I did aflirm, that as to that same moral species of faith and love, they do not at all believe and love God, but as to another species they do, and truly do it. How oft doth Scripture say of the unsanctified, that they believe in Christ, at least for a time ? But I shall leave it till I speak to Mr. K. himself, to prove that men unrenewed may have faith and love to Christ, though not saving. And whereas, our doctor, according

THE SAINTS' KVERLASTING UEST. GG7

to the complexion of his conscience, doth prefer me to succeed Pelagius in his chair, for afiirming that a carnal man, by the greatest help of common grace, as I opened my meaning, may have weak inclinations to spiritual and superior good, while he hath stronger to inferior, I would have him to review his sobriety, in making all divines and churches of Christ, since the apostles' days, so far as I am able to discern by my small reading, or by reports, to be Pelagians. I never heard of any that thought so basely of-the highest measure of that grace which is not proper to the saints as this man doth. If it no whit lead to God, how is it grace ? If this doctor dare warrant his hearers that they shall all be saved that have the least faith, or love, or inclination to God, I dare not imitate him. Except they love him above all, I dare not toll them that they are true disciples. Nor do I think- that nature itself is averted from God in the highest degree, nor all the wicked of one degree of sinfulness, nor yet as bad as they shall be in hell. Our divines that tell us how far hypocrites may go, do not talk in the strain of this doctor.

Well, but how far are we yet disagreed even in terms ? Why, I said, that it is not a natural, but a moral, specific difference, and so doth he. Page 109, he saith, " But against whom, I pray, do you dispute then '{ &c. I dare be bold to say there is not one that affirms a natural or physical difference, as you call it, between acts of common and saving grace in this your sense." And is not it pity that this doctor, that is so well agreed with me for sense and terms, should be put to the trouble of so tedious a digression ? Forsooth, I did unhappily express myself, because I used not his term " appretiative," which though I neglected, I think, on sufficient reason, yet, to please him, I will use it when I think on it, and have no better. And so we were best part while we are friends.

TO THE READER.

Reader, I AM so loth to leave thee under any mistake of my meaning in this point, that I shall yet make some further attempt for the explaining of it. And whereas I understand that some readers say that this nice distinguishing doth but puzzle men ; and others still fear not falsely to give out, that I make common grace and special to differ only gradually, and not specifically, in despite of my express asserting of the contrary, 1 entreat the first sort to tear that leaf out of the book which speaks of this subject, that it may not trouble them ; or to be patient while we speak a few words to others that understand that which they are but puzzled with. And I desire the second sort once more to remember, 1. That I still afliirm, that common grace and special do differ by a moral specific difference, and not a gradual only. 2. But that this moral specific difference

doth materially consist in a physical, gradual difference. 3. And it being a moral subject that we have in hand, our terms must be accordingly used and understood; and therefore it is most proper, when we speak of any unsanctified man, to say, that he is not a believer, he hath no faith, he hath no love to God, &c. because we are supposed to speak only of a true Christian saving faith, love, &c. 4. But yet, when it is known that we speak of another faith and love, we may well say that an unsanctified man hath these ; and when we inquire of the difference, we must be as exact as possible, in showing wherein it lieth, lest we delude the hypocrite, and trouble the regenerate. That the faith, and love, and sanctity of the ungodly are but equivocally, or analogically, so called, in respect to the faith and love of the saints, I have proved in my Fifth Disputation of Right to Sacraments.

That which I shall now add to make my sense as plain as I can, shall be these following distinctions and propositions.

We must distinguish between, 1. Those gracious acts that are about our end, and those that are about their means. 2. Between God considered generally as God, and considered in his several properties and attributes distinctly. And Christ considered personally, and considered fully in the parts of his office, whether the essential or integral parts. 3. Between the goodness of God in himself considered, and as suitable unto us. 4. Between the simple act of the intellect, and the comparing act. 5. Between the simple velleity of the will, and the choice that followeth the com-parate act of the intellect. 6. Between the speculative and practical act of the intellect. 7. And between the acts of the will that answer these two. 8. Between an end that is ultimate, but not principal and prevalent, and an end that is ultimate and chief also.

Prop. 1. An unsanctified man may love him that is the true God, and believe in that person who is Jesus Christ, the Redeemer. This is past controversy among us.

Prop. 2. An ungodly man may love God as the cause of his prosperity in the world.

Prop. 3. He may know that his everlasting happiness is at the disposal of God, and may believe him to be merciful, and ready to do good, and that to him ; and consequently may have some love to him as thus gracious and merciful.

Prop. 4. He may by a simple apprehension know that God is good in himself, and goodness itself, and preach this to others; and consequently may have in his will a consent or willingness hereof, that God be what he is, even infinite goodness.

Prop. 5. He may have a simple apprehension that God should be glorified, and honoured by the creatures : and so may have a simple velleity that he may be glorified.

Prop. 6. He may have a general dim apprehension, that everlasting happiness consists in the sight of the glory of God, and in his love, and favour, and heavenly kingdom, and so may have some love to him as thus apprehended.

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Prop. 7. He may coiupaio Ciod and the creature together, and have a speculative or superllcial knowledge that God is better than the creature, and better to him ; and may write and preach this to others: and so may have an answerable superficial, ineffectual velleity or love to him, even as thus considered.

Prop. S. One and the same man may have two contrary ultimate ends of his particular actions; even the pleasing of God, and the pleasing of his ilesh : proved.

Anjumcnt 1. If the same heart may be partly sanctified, and partly unsanctified, (that is, in some degree,) then it may have two contrary ends; or, if the same man may have flesh and spirit, then he may have two contrary ultimate ends. But the antecedent is certain ; therefore, so far as man is carnal and unsanctified, flesh-pleasing and carnal self is his end.

Argumeut 2. If the same man might not have two contrary ultimate ends, then the godly should never sin but in the mischoosing of the means, or abating the degrees of love to God: but the consequent is false, and against experience ; therefore—Peter did not only mischoose a means to God's glory when he denied his Master. A godly man, when he is drawn to eat or drink too much, doth it not only as a mistaken means to glorify God, but ultimately to please his flesh. Either David, in adultery, did desire flesh-pleasing for itself, or for some other end. If for itself, then it was his ultimate end in that act: if for somewhat else, as his end; for what i No one will say his end was God's glory; and there is nothing else to be it.

Prop. 9. There is a continual striving between these two contrary ends where they are ; one drawing one way, and the other the other way ; and sometimes one, sometimes the other, prevailing in particular acts.

Prop. 10. But yet, every man hath one only prevalent ultimate end, which is to be called Jiffis honiinis, or is the chief ultimate end of the habitual predominant inclination or disposition of his soul, and of the tenor or bent of his course of life. And that w^hich goes against his habitual bent, is said to be the act not of him, but of something in him, that is, not of that predominant disposition which should denominate the man to be godly or ungodly, but of some subdued disposition that, by accident, hath got some advantage.

Prop. 11. As godly men have God for their end, as to the predominant habit of their souls and bent of their lives, so all wicked men in the world have the creature and carnal self for their end, as to the predominant habit of their hearts and bent of their lives ; so that this is simply to be called their several end which is the ruling end, and hath the greatest interest in them ; but yet, as carnal self is a subdued, resisting end in the godly, prevailing in some particular actions, as is too sure, so God and salvation may be a stifled, abused, subjected end of the ungodly that have but common grace, and may prevail against the flesh in some particular outward actions.

This is evident in the foregoing propositions. If a man by com-rnon grace may have such a simple and superficial apprehension of God as is before mentioned, knowing him to be good in himself; yea, best, and good and best to him ; when yet, at the same time, he hath a more deep, predominant, habitual apprehension that the creature is best for him ; then certainly he may have a subdued love to God as best in himself, and to him, that is answerable to this superficial knowledge, and consisteth with a predominant, habitual love to the creature and carnal self. I woulcl desire every divine to beware that he tell not the unsanctified, that whoever hath the least degree of love to God for himself, and not as a means to carnal ends, shall certainly be saved; for he would certainly deceive many thousand miserable souls that should persuade them of this. He that believeth that there is a God, believeth that he is the chief good, and best for him if he could see his glory, and fully enjoy his love for ever: and many a wicked man doth preach all this, and thinks as he speaks; but it is all but with a superficial, opinionative belief, wdiich is mastered by more strong apprehensions of a contrary good; and so they love but with a superficial love, that is answerable to a mere opinionative belief, and is conquered by a more potent love to the contrary. So that, strictly, if you denominate not that single act, nor the person as thus disposed, but the bent of his affections, or the person, according to what indeed he is in the predominant habit of his soul, so it is fittest to say, that the godly loveth not the wiorld, nor the things of the world, and the wicked loveth not God, nor the things of God, as such.

Pro2^. 12. The sincere intending of the end doth concur to constitute a sincere choice of the means. And therefore the schoolmen say, that charity, or love to God, informeth all other graces; not being the form of them as such or such acts or habits, but as gracious means. As the means are essentially as means for the end, and so animated by it, so the mediate acts of grace, as mediate, are as essentially animated by the love of the end, and participate of it. In this sense their doctrine of the informing of other graces by love, is not only true, but of very great weight, and giveth light to many other points. And thus, as men of common grace have only an abused, subdued will or love to God as their end, that is conquered by the contrary; so they have but an unanswerable faith in Christ as the way to God the Father, and an unanswerable use of all other means, which will never bring them to attain the end that is so superficially and uneifectually apprehended and intended. I desire the learned reader to peruse well the first disputation of Rada for Scotus on this question.

Prop. 13. The acts of love or faith are considerable, 1. Physically, 1. In general, as faith and love. 2. In special, as this faith and love about this object, the Father and Son. And thus, by common grace men may have true faith and love ; that is, such as is physically a true or real act. 2. They are considerable morally ; and that, 1. Either as duty answering a precept, " Believe and love

THE SAINTS' l^VKULASTlNCi UEST. G7 I

God;" and thus they have au analogical, dofoclivc morality iii them, and so are thus far sincere or true; hut not that same true love or faith, in specie vionili, which the command requireth. For it commandeth us to love (iod ahove all, &c. 2, They are con-siderahle as conditions of the promises and evidences of spiritual life in the soul; and thus wicked men, hy common grace, are never made partakers of them. They have not the things themselves. 'J'heir faith and love is not the same thing which hath the promises made to them in the gospel, and so are not true or sincere.

Prop. 14. Jjy common grace men may love God under the notion of the chiefest good and most desirahle end, and yet not with that love which the chiefest good must he loved with, and therefore it is not morally sincere or saving.

Proj). 15. There is no notion whatsoever that a true Christian hath of God, and no word that he can speak of him, but an unre-generate man may have some apprehension of that same notion, and speak those words, and know every proposition concerning God and Christ, as Redeemer, which a godly man may know ; and so may have some love to God or faith in Christ in that same notion, though not with such a clear, eifectual apprehension, and lively, powerful love, as the sanctified have.

Object. He cannot love God as his end. A?isw. I have proved before that he may with a superficial, uneffectual, subdued love.

Object. He cannot love him as the chief good. Answ. I have proved that he may love him under that notion, though not with that love which the chief good must be loved with.

Object. He cannot believe in Christ, or desire him as a Saviour to free him from every sin. Ansiv. Not wdth a prevalent faith or desire, for still he hath more love than averseness to that sin, and therefore more averseness than love to Christ as such; but as in general he may wish to be free from all sin, so in particular he may have effectual wishes to be free from his most beloved sin in several respects.

Object. But not to be free from sin as sin, or as against God. Aiisw. Yes; a man by common grace may know that sin as sin is evil, and therefore may have uneffectual wishes to be freed from it as such ; but at the same time he hath stronger apprehensions of the pleasure, profit, or credit that it brings him, and this pre-vaileth. Indeed, men's carnal interest, which in sin they love, is not its opposition to God, nor the formal nature of sin. Doubtless all men that are ungodly, do not therefore love sin because it is sin, and against God ; at least this is not so total in them, but that there may be a subdued mind to the contrary, and dislike of sin as against God. Many a common drunkard I have known, that when he hath heard or talked of sin as sin, and as against God, hath cried out against himself, and wept as if he abhorred it, and yet gone on in it, for the pleasure of the flesh.

Object. But where, then, is man's natural enmity to God and holiness ^ Anstr. 1. It is doubtful whether man naturally have an enmity to God and holiness considered simply, or only considered

as being against man's carnal interest. 2. But were the former proved, yet common grace abateth that enmity, and gives men more than corrupted nature doth.

Object. But the experience of the godly telleth them that it is another kind of light and love which they have after conversion than before. Answ. 1. It is not all converts that can judge by experience in this; because all have not had common grace in the highest, or any great observed measure before conversion. 2. It is hard for any to make that experiment, because we know not in our change just when common grace left, and special grace begun. 3. A physical, gradual difference may be as great as that which your experience tells you of. Have you experience of common light and love before conversion, and of another since which diiFereth from it more than the greatest flame from a spark, and more than the sunshine at noon from the twilight, when you cannot know a man ; or more than the sight of the cured blind man, that saw clearly, from that by which he saw men like trees; or more than the pain of the strappado from the smallest prick of a pin ?

Object. But it is not common gifts that are worked up to be spiritual grace. One species is not turned into another. Afhsw. True : imperfection is not turned materially into perfection. The dawning of the day is not materially turned into the greater light at noon; but a greater light superveneth, and is added to the less. The blind man's seeing men like trees, was not it that was the perfect, following sight, but an additional light was it.

Object. But special grace is the divine nature, the image of God, the new creature, &c. and therefore doth differ more from common. Answ. I easily yield the antecedent, but deny the consequence. The difference is as admirably great as these terms express, though it be but a moral specific difference.

Reader, I will trouble thee no more but to entreat thee, if thou be of another mind, to differ from me without breach of charity, as I do from thee, and to remember that I obtrude not my explications on any. And if I have done thee wrong, it is but by telling thee my thoughts, which thou hast liberty to accept or reject as thou seest cause. But again I entreat thee, rather lay this by, or tear it out of the book, than it should be any stumbling-block in the way, or hinder thee from profiting by what thou readest. The Lord increase our light, and life, and love.

Jan. 15, 1657.

JOHN CHILDS AND SON, BUNGAY.

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