BX 9318 .H65 1846 
 Howe, John, 1630-1705. 
 The Redeemer's tears wept 
 over lost souls 
 
/(p . iP . c^yy 
 
 tc- 
 
I 9 
 
THE REDEEMER'S TEARS 
 
 WEPT OVER LOST SOULS: 
 
 UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS: 
 
 CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION: 
 
 MAN'S ENMITY TO GOD; 
 
 AND RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 WITH LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, 
 BY THE REV. W. URWIOK, D.D., DUBLIN. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 WILEY & PUTNAM, 161 BROADWAY. 
 
 MUCCCXLVI. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 1. Life of Howe. 
 
 2. The Redeemer's Tears Wept over Lost Souls, . . 1 
 
 3. Union among Protestants, . . . . . .103 
 
 4. Carnality of Religious Contention, .... 149 
 
 5. Man's Enmity to God, and Reconciliation between God 
 
 and Man, .213 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 BT THE REV. W. URWICK, D.D., DUBLIN. 
 
 During the sixteenth century, the struggles connected with 
 the Reformation stirred European Christendom from the slum- 
 ber of the *' dark ages," and in those great movements England 
 had her share. But the awakening of her mental and moral 
 strength became not general, till her own agitations, during the 
 reigns of her first James and his son Charles, followed by the 
 Commonwealth, rendered inaction of head or heart next to im- 
 possible throughout the land. 
 
 Lovers of tyranny have been' wont to decry that period as 
 one of the most humiliating and disastrous in British history; for 
 the Dagon of their homage was then well-nigh prostrated and 
 broken before the ark of God's providence. And that evils 
 deeply to be deplored existed, is admitted. Unworthy persons 
 and measures are often associated with what is, substantially, the 
 cause of truth and righteousness; it has been so from the begin- 
 ning with the glorious Gospel itself. But no enlightened and 
 fair man will deny, that at the time we are speaking of, England 
 had never been in higher respect among the nations, or had used 
 her influence for better purposes. She had never been to the same 
 extent enriched with knowledge and adorned with piety, — she 
 had never so appeared — to use the words of Milton — "as a noble 
 and puissant nation rousing hei-self as a strong man after sleep, 
 or as an eagle muing her mi;^lity youth, and kindling her vm- 
 dazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam." At that period the tree 
 of civil and reUgious freedom, which, now flourishing and bear- 
 
ii LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 ing fruit, is the blessing and boast of the empire, became firmly 
 rooted in her soil. 
 
 If the time was one of fearful political convulsion, it was also 
 one of gracious visitation from the Spirit of God. While " the 
 potsherds of the earth " filled the country with their strivings, 
 the King of Zion was i-aising up a host of " very able men " for 
 his service, — men whose writings yet survive, and will while the 
 world lasts, monuments of his favour to themselves and to his 
 Church, — men far more worthy of study and veneration than the 
 majority of the so-called " Fathers " among the Greek and Latin 
 ecclesiastics of earlier days. 
 
 Important controversies were then afloat; the Gospel had to 
 grapple with antagonists of no common nerve, furniture, and 
 skill. These champions entered the lists, and the truth triumph- 
 ed. The right of every one to search the scriptures, and his re- 
 sponsibility to God alone for his use of that right, had lately 
 risen as into new existence. These expositors were honourably 
 successful in clearing away obscurities and perversions from the 
 sacred text, and in otherwise assisting the common reader to see 
 profitably for himself, " what is the mind of the Spirit." As 
 theologians they were independent, enlarged, and profound think- 
 ers. Theirs was not the restless habit of some would-be wise 
 ones, busying itself on this punctiho to-day, on another to-mor- 
 row, and happy only when carping at or extolling detached and 
 insignificant items. Theirs was the genius of sound philosophy, 
 which, as the lion ranges through his forest and the condor soars 
 above her Andes, sweeps through the earth and the firmament, 
 aiming as far as may be to grasp the knowledge of creation. 
 Nor were these men less distinguished as preachers and pastors. 
 In the study, in the pulpit, and from house to house, with single- 
 eyed purpose they watched for souls. 
 
 To their superiority in the respects named, their scholarship 
 doubtless contributed. In learning they were not behind other 
 Rabbis of their day. They had graduated at universities; had 
 become fellows, and some of them heads of colleges, in Cam- 
 bridge and Oxford; and had, by untiring industry, acquired a 
 habit of energetic action, which accompanied them through life 
 as a second nature. But their crowTiing excellence — the spring 
 and plastic soul of their greatness— was their pitfy. They brought 
 the fruits of their studies as divines, to bear upon their own 
 hearts as christians. They daily maintained converse with God 
 in private; and kept their seasons of special devotion. Thus 
 
I LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. lU 
 
 they acquired a calmness and power, a freedom and unction, 
 which no talent, or hterary acquirement, or strength of natural 
 character, could impart. Most of them, indeed, had a parentage 
 and a training which prepared for this. They were the off- 
 spring of suffei-ers for the truth. They had been cradled iu 
 persecution. The loud and fierce cry of the oppressor had 
 often drowned the soft and soothing tones of their mother's lul- 
 labv. The homage of all things to conscience, and of conscience 
 in all things to God, was one of the first lessons given when their 
 minds opened to receive thought. Effeminacy and sentimentalism 
 belonged to another sphere, if not to another age. All their youth- 
 ful associations combined to cherish masculine honesty and magna- 
 nimity, with intrepid though humble resolve. And when ai'rived 
 at maturity, they were " men full of faith and of the Holy Ghost" 
 
 There were, however, varieties among them. " Star differeth 
 from star in glory," in the firmament of the church, as in that of 
 nature, even when it is most brilliantly lighted up. As an orb 
 of the first magnitude, and with a radiance pecuUarly his own, 
 shone John Howe. By the consent of all to whom superior mind, 
 sanctified by the truth and charity of the gospel, is dear, he ranks 
 among his contemporaries as a prince among chiefs. Even 
 Wood, who can hardly pen a kind or candid expression for a 
 non-conformist, in his Athense Oxonienses, says that Howe, when 
 in London during the Commonwealth, was " known to the lead- 
 ing men of those times for his frequent and edifying preaching," 
 and adds, ** He is a person of neat and pohte parts," who " hath 
 applied himself wholly to beneficial and practical subjects, in 
 which undertaking he hath acquitted himself so well, (his books 
 being penned in a fine, smootli, and natural style) that they are 
 much commended and read by very many conformists, who ge- 
 nerally have him in great esteem." 
 
 For some unassigned cause — perhaps modesty, perhaps pru- 
 dence, perhaps a combination of the two— Mr Howe, by what 
 appears to have been his last act, depi-ived his friends of the 
 principal materials for his biogi-aphy. He had passed through 
 a checquered and eventful course ; and he had not neglected to 
 observe, or to put his observations upon record. In reply to 
 enquiries made about his manuscripts after his death, his son, 
 Dr <Teorge Howe, stated that his "honoured father" had col- 
 lected " large memorials of the material passages of his own 
 life, and of the times wherein he lived, which he most industri- 
 ously concealed till his last illness." The " honoured father," 
 
IV LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 however, after he had lost his speech, unexpectedly recovered it, 
 and, to use his son's words, " called me to him, and gave me a key, 
 and ordered me to bring all the papers (which were stitched up 
 in a multitude of small volumes), a»d made me solemnly promise 
 him, notwithstanding all my reluctance, immediately to destroy 
 them, which I accordingly did."' Thus all were at once irrecover- 
 ably lost. Seldom has a more precious treasure been sacrificed ; 
 or fihal obedience to a revered parent's dying injunction, been 
 put to a severer test; or posterity had forced upon them an occa- 
 sion of more just complaint against a man whom, on every other 
 account, they held in unquahfied esteem. Mr Howe's close 
 connexion with Cromwell, and his standing with the leading per- 
 sons of the religious parties of his day, together with his own in- 
 tegrity and judgment, must have made his statements first-rate 
 auHiorities for the historian and the biographer. Nor, consider- 
 ing the union of sound sense with devotional feeling which dis- 
 tinguished him throughout, would his " memorials " have been 
 less precious for use in the closet, as helps to spiritual edification. 
 Indeed the more we reflect on the " manner of man he w^as,'* 
 the jnore is our regret increased that a regard to what was due 
 to others did not prevail to spare, in opposition to the fatal sudden 
 impulse to destroy them, " the multitude of small volumes" which 
 he fed prepared for the benefit of survivors. 
 
 The leading facts to be put down in an account of Mr Howe 
 are contained in his " Life " by Dr Calamy. Nearly the whole 
 of this, with some additional matter and much able and excel- 
 lent remark, appeared about ten years ago in " The Life and 
 Character of John Howe, M.A., with an Analysis of his Writ- 
 ings. By Henry Rogers." Professor Rogers' volume leaves 
 little further to be hoped for of information respecting Mr Howe. 
 From these sources, with occasional resort to others, the materials 
 for the following sketch have been obtained. 
 
 Mr Howe was bom May 17, 1630, at Loughborough, in Leices- 
 tershire ; a place then, as it is still, only second in importance to 
 the county-town. Whether valued or not by its inhabitaiits, it is 
 no trifling distinction that their to\Mi was the birth-place of the 
 author of " The Living Temple." He was named after his fa- 
 ther, who was minister of the parish ; and he was baptized, 
 according to the entry in the parish -register, yet extant, on the 
 third day after his birth. The father had been appointed to his 
 charge by Archbishop Laud. Unfortunately, as some would 
 think, John Howe the senior was " puritanically " inclined, while 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. ▼ 
 
 Laud's predilections were *' papistical." Matters, therefore, soon 
 came to a crisis between the patron and the patronized. 
 
 Besides scrupling the prescribed " ceremonies," tlie worthy 
 minister committed what was, in the arch-prelate's reckoning, a 
 heinous crime. King Charles and his hierachy I'equired the 
 working clergy to encourage among the people the desecration 
 of the Lord's day, by dancing, archery, may -games, whiston-ales, 
 or morrice-dances, " or any such harmless recreations." But the 
 pastor of Loughborough dared to pray in his pulpit, as Laud him- 
 self reported it, " that God would preserve the prince in the true 
 religion, of which there was cause to fear." This was a flagrant 
 outrage upon all the loyalty and piety then in vogue. The case 
 was brought into the High-commission court, and on the 6th of 
 November 1634, Mr Howe was sentenced to be " imprisoned 
 during his Majesty's pleasure, suspended from every part of his 
 ministry, fined five hundred pounds, required to make a public 
 recantation before the court, and condemned in costs of suit." 
 Happily he made his escape. 
 
 Ireland often became an asylum for the EngUsh puritans. 
 Walter Travers, expelled from being joint-lecturer with Hooker 
 at the Temple, and forbidden by Whitgift, archbishop of Canter- 
 bury, to preach any where in England, was invited to Ireland. 
 He became provost of Trinity-College, Dublin, and tutor to the 
 afterwards celebrated Archbishop Usher, who probably was 
 much indebted to him for sound views of doctrine and liberal 
 opinions on church order. To this country Mr Howe fled, tak- 
 ing with him his son John, then a child about four years and a 
 half old. When thirty-five years more had rolled by, the son, 
 persecuted for non-conformity, again found a home in Erin. 
 Here the father and the child continued till the breaking out of 
 the Rebellion in 1641. The father does not appear to have exer- 
 cised his ministry during his stay, which may have been owing 
 to the circumstance that Laud's influence was beginning to be 
 felt there. His place of sojourn is not named ; but from the 
 statement that " it was besieged by the rebels for several weeks 
 together, though without success," it appears to have been Drog- 
 heda, a considerable sea port town, about thirty (EngUsh) miles 
 north of Dublin, and then a place of strength. When the siege 
 was abandoned, Mr Howe, fearing that he could not longer re- 
 main safely in Ireland, returned with his boy to England, and 
 settled in Lancashire. 
 
 It is to be presumed that during their exile in the sister-land the 
 
▼i LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 father had not neglected the education of liis son. On their com- 
 ing back to England, it was proceeded with, and young Howe was 
 " trained up in the knowledge of the tongues ;" but who were his 
 instructors is unknown. He made such proficiency at school that 
 on May 19, 1647, he entered Christ College, Cambridge, having 
 just completed his seventeenth year. He entered as a " sizar," 
 which implies that his parents were in humble circumstances, 
 but which also indicates their son's respectable attainments, if 
 then, as now, " sizarships " could be had only as the reward of 
 worthily standing a severe examination. At Cambridge young 
 Howe became acquainted with Doctors Cudworth and Henry 
 More, besides other distinguished men. In the year after his 
 entrance he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and then re- 
 moved to Oxford. Wood states that he became '' Bible-clerk " 
 of Brazen-nose College there, in Michaelmas term 1648, and 
 then was made " Demy" — a scholar raised to the rank of " half- 
 Fellow" — in Magdalen College, by the parliamentary visitors. 
 In a short time he was elected Fellow, and in 1652 he "pro- 
 ceeded " Master of Arts. All this bespeaks successful progress* 
 What was his industry in study then and afterwards, may be ga- 
 thered also from the familiarity which his writings manifest with 
 authors ancient and modern ; pagan, infidel, and christian ; 
 classics, historians, moralists, critics, philosophers ; and both or- 
 thodox and heterodox divines of every age and country. 
 
 We have no particulars as to when, or by what means, young 
 Howe was brought first under the power of the gospel. His 
 funeral-sermon, by Mr Spademan, mentions " his very early and 
 growing exemplary piety." It is probable that his conversion 
 was the fruit of parental counsels and prayers. The religion 
 prevalent in Oxford, while Howe was there, was Evangelical 
 Protestantism — widely the contrast of its present Puseyism. 
 The " streams that make glad the city of God," then flowed 
 through that " city of colleges," as it is still watered and beauti- 
 fied by the Cherwell and the Isis. Howe drank of the piety of 
 his alma mater as deeply as he did of her scholarship. Dr 
 Thomas Goodwin was President of the college (Magdalene) in 
 which Mr Howe was Fellow, and acted as the pastor of a church 
 formed among the students. He was surprised that Howe did 
 not propose to join their communion, whence it is evident that 
 liis religious character was well knowai. The Doctor took an op- 
 portunity of speaking to him alone upon the subject. He had 
 supposed that the terms of admission laid too much stress on 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. yH 
 
 some peculiarities of opinion. Discovering his mistake herein, 
 he immediately united himself with the body. This church in 
 Oxford University welcomed to its privileges all who had re- 
 ceived Christ, while it knowingly admitted no others. And this 
 was Howe's principle of " church-fellowship " from the outset to 
 the end — a principle nobly affirmed and vindicated in more than 
 one of his pieces republished in tliis volume. While at Oxford, 
 besides his literary pursuits, he thoroughly studied the sacred 
 scriptures, and compiled therefrom for himself a system of theo- 
 logy, which he said afterwards he had seen little reason to change 
 or modify in consequence of what he met with elsewhere. Doubt- 
 less this gave him much of that facility, comprehensiveness, and 
 masterly grasp in discussing religious subjects, displayed to so 
 much advantage in his subsequent career. 
 
 In the close of his university course he became a preacher, 
 and went to Lancashire, where his father still resided, for ordi- 
 nation. The ceremony took place at Winwick, the Rev. Charles 
 Hearle, and several neighbouring ministers, uniting in the so- 
 lemnities of the day. By what is described as an " unexpected 
 conduct of Divine Providence," but is not explained, he was 
 led to Great Torrington in Devonshire, and there engaged as pas- 
 tor. He entered upon his labours with signal proofs of the Di- 
 vine favour. The town was not large ; by the census of 1831 its 
 population barely exceeded three thousand. The people "re- 
 ceived him as an angel of God." Previous breaches in the con- 
 gregation were healed. Crowds flocked to hear ihe word. Many 
 found it the power of God unto salvation, and will be Howe's joy 
 and crown of rejoicing at Christ's second coming. Though only 
 about twenty-two years of age, and fresh from college, he seems 
 to have been forthwith at home in his work, and to have brought 
 into play the whole energies of his being. Nor was this ardour 
 temporary excitement, awakened by novel circumstances and fol- 
 lowed by collapse. It was an outworking of steadily-sustained, 
 spontaneous, pleasurable, and healthful vitality, fed by the faith 
 of immutable absorbing facts, operating on a renewed heart. 
 Here were preached the sermons of which the substance, re- 
 wrought up and enlarged, was afterwards given to the world in 
 his treatises on " Delighting in God," and the " Blessedness of 
 the Righteous," in reading which we fail not to think the author, 
 so far as mortal can be, kindred with angels in conception, and with 
 seraphs in fervour. From Torrington Howe's affections were 
 never afterwards estranged. Of the people there he could always 
 
VUl LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 say, " God is my record how greatly I long after you all in the 
 bowels of Jesus Christ." 
 
 An impression exists in some quarters that the ministers of 
 Mr Howe's day had less labour than their successors in our own. 
 Nothing can be more erroneous. We have not the knowledge we 
 desire of his regular engagements ; but let us listen for a few 
 moments to what he says of his friend the Rev. Richard Fair- 
 clough, in the noble sermon preached on the occasion of his 
 death — a sermon worthy of being often read by every minister 
 in his closet — " His labours were almost incredible. Besides his 
 usual exercises on the Lord's day, of praying, reading the Scrip- 
 tures, preaching, catechising, administering the sacraments (as 
 the occasions or stated seasons occurred), he usually five times in 
 the week, betimes in the morning, appeared in public, prayed, 
 and preached an expository lecture upon some portion of the holy 
 scriptures, in course, to such as could then assemble, which so 
 many did, that he always had a considerable congregation ; nor 
 did he ever produce in public any thing which did not smell of 
 the lamp. And I know that the most eminent for quality and 
 judgment among his hearers, valued those his morning exercises, 
 for elaborateness, accuracy, instructiveness, equally with his 
 Lord's-day sermons. Yet also he found time, not only to visit 
 the sick (which opportunities he caught at with great eagerness), 
 but also, in a continual course, all the families within his charge ; 
 and personally and severally to converse with every one that was 
 capable, labouring to understand the present state of their souls, 
 and applying himself to them in instructions, reproofs, admoni- 
 tions, exhortations, and encouragements, suitably thereto : and 
 he went through all with the greatest facility and pleasure ima- 
 ginable ; his whole heart was in his work. Every day, for 
 many years together, he used to be up by three in the morning, 
 or sooner, and to be with God (which was his dear delight), when 
 others slept." Howe adds of his friend, and it renders our belief 
 in the foi-egoing statements mox-e easy, " Few men had ever less 
 hindrance from the body, or more dominion over it; a better 
 habited mind and body have rarely dwelt together." 
 
 As proof that Mr Howe never " spared " himself, when he 
 thought that duty, or the edification of his flock, required that he 
 should " spend'' himself, we may quote his own account of his 
 engagements on the public fast-days, then frequently observed. 
 *' He told me," says Dr Calamy, " it was upon these occasions his 
 common way to begin about nine in the morning, with a prayer 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. IX 
 
 for about a quarter of an hour, in which he begged a blessing 
 on the work of the day ; and afterwards read and expounded a 
 chapter or psalm, in which he spent about three quarters of an 
 hour, then prayed for an hour, preached for another hour, and 
 prayed for half-an-hour. After this he retired and took some 
 little refreshment for about a quarter of an hour or more (the 
 people singing all the while), and then came again into the pul- 
 pit, prayed for another hour, and gave them another sermon of 
 about an hour's length, and so concluded the service of the day 
 at about four o'clock in the evening, with about half-au-hour or 
 more in prayer." Setoi hours, with but one trifling interrup- 
 tion of some fifteen minutes, occupied in public praying, expound- 
 ing, and preaching, by the same man ! And these days occur- 
 red " pretty frequently," in addition to his ordinary pulpit and 
 pastoral work, and were gone through by him " without any help 
 or assistance !" Most readers will wo'ader how the bodily frame 
 bore up under it. Nor are " the springs of thought and will" 
 less to be admii-ed, that were not soon perfectly exhausted by 
 such demands ; for we may be assured that every opening of 
 Howe's lips would be full of appropriate sentiment and sacred 
 earnestness. What an " abundance of heart" he must have had 
 to supply the requisite materiel for ideas and feelings. And of 
 what a lively and hallowed kind must those protracted services 
 have been, that did not wear out the " heart" of the people for 
 them, more than they did that of the minister who presided in 
 and conducted them. If our forefathers had an " enthusiasm" 
 in these tilings at which our " sobriety" revolts, does not our for- 
 mality and insipidity, miscalled " sobriety," quite as much revolt 
 their now perfect judgments of bare fittingness in the followers 
 of Him who said, " the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up ?" 
 Let us not " for a, prettnce make long prayers ;" but if ever the 
 arm of the Lord is to '' awake, and put on strength," for bring- 
 ing in millennial prosperity in answer to our asking, there must 
 be a perseverance which wrestles " till the day breaketh," and 
 a resolve which says, " I will not let thee go except thou bless 
 me." 
 
 "While at Torrington, Mr Howe formed an acquaintance with 
 the ministers of his neighbourhood, of " different persuasions," 
 and a " settled meeting" of them was held in the town for mutual 
 edification and fellowship. This was one of the " associations" 
 of which Baxter may be considered the father, and to which 
 more particular reference will be made presently. Among the 
 
X LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 brethren thus brought together was one between whom and Mf 
 Howe general acquaintance quickly ripened into the most cordial 
 and intimate friendship — " the famous Mr George Hughes of 
 Plymouth, who made a greater figure, and had a greater interest 
 and influence than most of the ministers in those parts." He 
 was considerably Mr Howe's senior, having entered at Corpus 
 Christi College, Oxford, in 1619, and then removed to Pembroke 
 College, where he graduated Master of Arts, and took the de- 
 gree of Bachelor in Divinity. But the disparity in years was 
 nearly lost sight of through the mutual overflowing of holy af- 
 fection. The connexion thus formed led to another. On 
 March 1st, 1654, Mr Howe was married to Miss Catherine 
 Hughes, the daughter of his friend. Of their children are named 
 — 1st, Greorge, already mentioned, who became a respectable 
 physician in London ; — 2d, James, who was called to the bar, 
 and acquired considerable property by his profession ; — 3d, 
 John, of whom we are told only that he left two sons, John and 
 James ; — 4th, Obadiah, who probably died young ; — and 5th^ 
 Philippa, who was married to a Mr Collett, of the Bank of England. 
 It is not known when this Mrs Howe died, but there was a second, 
 for his funeral sermon is inscribed to " Mrs Margaret Howe ;" 
 and Dr Doddridge, under date of " Bath, March 2d, 1743," wrote 
 to Mrs Doddi'idge, " Mrs Howe, widow of the great and pious 
 Mr Howe, died here last week ; a good woman, and full of years, 
 being near ninety." This Mrs Howe, it is not unlikely, was 
 sister to the Rev. Peter Vink, B.D., or rather to his wife ; for 
 Mr Howe, dedicating his funeral sermon " for that faithful, 
 honest, and most worthy minister of the gospel," says to his 
 widow — " My dear and honoured s'ster ; — The relation I 
 stand in to you, by that union which some years since the good 
 providence of God hath brought about between our families, 
 obliges me, besides what I owe you upon the common Christian 
 account, to partake with you in your sorrows, for this late afflic- 
 ting loss ; as I have, according to my measure, in the satisfac- 
 tion of enjoying so pleasant and delectable a relation and friend." 
 Some of Mr Howe's descendants became respectably con- 
 nected. A grandson, John, eldest son and heir of James, married 
 the Hon. Carohne Howe, daughter of the Right Hon. Scroop 
 Lord Viscount Howe, Master of the Horse to George I. This 
 lady was consequently sister to Admiral Earl Howe, whose name 
 is so distinguished in the naval annals of his country. But 
 another topic of enquiry is here suggested. What descendants 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XI 
 
 of Mr Howe are now living ? and do they inherit the piety, if not 
 the other greatnesses, of that illustrious man ? Posterity should 
 advance beyond their ancestry, especially in that which chiefly 
 ennobles, enriches, and adorns humanity. John Howe, the 
 Puritan, left to his son a name of more than heraldic worth. 
 And that son, John Howe, the Nonconformist, bequeathed the 
 treasure to his house unspeakably enhanced in preciousness and 
 splendour. Let the present generation of the family, at least 
 preserve inviolate the sacred deposit which has been handed 
 down, and see that it has in them a guardianship for their suc- 
 cessors worthy of itself. 
 
 To resume our narrative. From the commencement of their 
 friendship, Mr Hughes and Mr Howe kept up a correspondence 
 in Latin. Interesting as this would have been, nothing survives 
 of it beyond the fact that in one of his letters Mr Hughes wrote. 
 Sit ros coeli super habitaculum vestrum — " May the dew of heaven 
 rest upon your dwelling." And the preservation of this frag- 
 ment is owing to the coincidence that, on the morning on which the 
 letter reached Mr Howe, his house had been most providentially 
 saved from destruction by fire, through a singularly opportune 
 heavy fall of rain. The prayer had sped its way up to the throne 
 of God, and had descended with its answer large and free, before 
 the knowledge of its having gone could reach Torrington from 
 Plymouth. That answer was not merely the shower of rain, but 
 the experience of the divine favour in the preservation granted, 
 so calculated to have, and which doubtless produced, a richly re- 
 freshing and fertilizing influence upon the heart. " Whiles they 
 are yet speaking, I will hear." 
 
 Mr Howe " thought of no other than of living and dying with" 
 his aff'ectionate charge in humble Torrington. But a crisis was 
 at hand. In 1656, some business called him to London, where 
 he was detained a Sabbath longer than he intended. Curiosity 
 led him on that day to the chapel at Whitehall, where the Pro- 
 tector and his household attended. His noble form and counten- 
 ance bespeaking no common man, caught the observant and 
 right-judging eye of Cromwell. At the conclusion of the ser- 
 vice, his Highness sent for him, and requested him to preach 
 there on the following Lord's-day. Howe did what he could 
 to excuse himself, but Cromwell would take no denial. A se- 
 cond sermon, and then a third, were pressed for, and given. 
 At length, after much free conversation in private, nothing 
 would satisfy the Protector but that Mr Howe should become 
 
Xli LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 his domestic chaplain. The good pastor of the congregation at 
 Torrington strongly objected, and pleaded, among other mat- 
 ters, the case of his dear people. Cromwell met all his scruples, 
 and pi'omised that the flot^k, to be deprived of his oversight, 
 should have another shepherd, a man of their own choice. 
 Resistance was vain. Howe was obhged to yield. He, with 
 ^Irs Howe and their family, removed from Torrington to White- 
 hall : — what a transition ! He was soon afterwards appointed 
 to tJie lectureship of St Margaret in Westminster. 
 
 Mr Howe had not entered upon his new and peculiar position, 
 without calculating upon its difficulties ; and he girded up his 
 loins manfully to meet them. In a letter dated ""Whitehall, 
 March 12, 57," three months after he had come to London, he 
 says to the Rev. jNIr Baxter of Kidderminster, " I should be ex- 
 ceeding desirous to hear from you, what you understand to be 
 the main evils of the nation that you judge capable of redress by 
 the present government ? What you conceive one in my station 
 obliged to urge upon them as matter of duty in reference to the 
 present state of the nation ? and how far you conceive such an 
 one obliged to bear a public testimony (against their neglects) by 
 preaching, after use of private inducements ; supposing that 
 either they be not convinced that the things persuaded to are 
 duties to them, or else, if they are, that it be from time to time 
 pretended that other affairs of greater moment are before them 
 for the present ; which being secret to themselves, as I cannot 
 certainly know that they are so, so nor can I deny that they may 
 be. Sir, your Lord knows I desire to understand my duty in 
 matters of this nature ; I hope he will give me a heart not to de- 
 cline it," &c. This extract shews a diffidence of self, combined 
 with high aims and preparedness to do duty fearless of conse- 
 quences, all in keeping with the writer. Perhaps it suggests a 
 little too raised an idea of what he was bound to attempt, if not 
 of what he could achieve. It is questionable how far, and in 
 what cases, the " domestic chaplain" of a ruler is called upon to 
 make the public measures of the government themes of his pulpit 
 ministrations. This point, however, involves topics which are 
 better understood now than they were then — topics too complex, 
 delicate, and secondary, to be discussed here. But in Howe's day 
 it was almost vmiversally beheved to be imperative on civil rulers 
 to exercise authority in the church, and to enforce religious truth 
 by penal statutes — a principle since discovered to be aUke un- 
 scriptural and unsafe. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. Xili 
 
 Baxter's letter, which seems Hke a reply to this of Howe, is 
 dated " April 3, 1 658," more than a year afterwards. It mentions 
 that in the interval Howe had been at Kidderminster, and had 
 more than once written to Baxter. It speaks of Howe's " famed 
 worth," and " advantageous station for a serviceableness to these 
 churches." It advises him to be " very tender and cautelous in 
 publishing any of the neglects of governors." It also urges " to 
 a very careful (but very secret and silent) observance of the 
 Infidels and Papists, who are very high and busy, under several 
 garbs, especially of Seekers, Vanists, Behmenists." Baxter ob- 
 serves that " the Lord Protector is noted as a man of a catholic 
 spirit, desirous of the unity and peace of all the servants of 
 Christ ;" and then suggests measures which he thought it desir- 
 able his Highness should adopt towards establishing harmony 
 among Christ's servants of difi'erent denominations. Here are 
 two subjects which require some remarks for explanation. 
 
 Every one is aware that " Infidels and Papists" were identified 
 with the Royalist cause in the Civil Wars. But the fact above 
 named, that they were " very high and busy, under several garbs," 
 on the Parliamentary side, is not generally known. It is often 
 referred to in subsequent letters of Baxter and Howe, as awaken- 
 ing serious apprehensions. Dr Bramhall, Bishop of Derry, gave 
 full information about it to Archbishop Usher, in a letter dated 
 July 20, 1654. He says, " It plainly appears, that in the year 
 1646, by order from Rome, above 100 of the Romish clergy were 
 sent into England, consisting of English, Scotch, and Irish, who 
 had been educated in France, Italy, Germany, and Spain," and 
 that " these scholars were taught several handicraft trades and 
 callings, as their ingenuities were most bending, besides their 
 orders, or functions of that church." He further says that these 
 men were taught to argue for atheism, or to personify members 
 of the several Protestant bodies in England ; that on arriving 
 there they were to feign themselves Puritans, who had returned 
 from exile " to enjoy their hberty of conscience ;" that a registry 
 was kept of them abroad, and intelligence sent by them monthly 
 to the fraternities from which they had come ; that most of them 
 became soldiers in the Pai'liament's army, at the same time daily 
 corresponding with their fellow Romanists in the King's army ; 
 that in the year 1647, the two parties had a conference together, 
 where there were produced " secret bulls and licenses" for simu- 
 lating as they did ; that afterwards they wrote to their several 
 convents, and to the Sorbonists, enquii-ing, " whether it may be 
 
XIV LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 scrupled to make away" the King or his son ? to which the Sor- 
 bonists repUed, " that it was lawful for Roman Catholics to work 
 changes in governments for the Mother Church's advancement, 
 and chiefly in an heretical kingdom ; and so lawfully make away 
 the King." 
 
 The other subject mentioned in the above letter of Baxter is 
 the endeavour to bring about a closer union among the evangeli- 
 cal Protestant bodies. This was a favourite scheme with him. 
 An " Association" among the ministers of the county in which he 
 lived, had been formed by him some years before. In 1653 was 
 pubhshed *' Christian Concord ; or the Agreement of the Associated 
 Pastors and Churches of Worcestershire, with Richard Baxter's 
 Explication and Defence of it, and his Exhortations to Unity." 
 Similar " Associations" were formed in many other parts of Eng- 
 land, as Wiltshire, Dorsetshire, Somersetshire, Hampshire, &c. 
 They embraced Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and, wherever 
 they could be persuaded to it. Episcopalians. Howe's " settled 
 meeting" of the Devonshire ministers at Torrington, included the 
 three bodies. Baxter, id his Life, states that " the Independent 
 Churches also in Ireland, led by Dr Winter, pastor of their 
 Church in Dublin, associated with the moderate Presbyterians 
 there," through the " persuasions" of his " neighbour," Colonel 
 Bridges, and sent to the Worcestershire Association " their desires 
 of correspondency." The articles of the Essex Association were 
 forwarded to Cromwell, who had previously received documents 
 on the subject from Worcestershii"^. These papers he handed to 
 Howe for perusal, who then, as he tells Baxter, " made such a 
 motion to him," the Protector, " that he would please, once for 
 all, to invite, by some public declaration, the godly ministers of 
 the several counties, and of several parties, to the work of asso- 
 ciating upon such common principles as might be found tending 
 to the general good, and not cross to the private opinions of the 
 several parties." Cromwell, Howe fm'ther states, " expressed a 
 great willingness thereto, might he but see any thing in writing, 
 that upon consideration he could judge likely to serve such a pur- 
 pose." A paper of Howe's is yet extant which is thought to be 
 the draft of a " proclamation" on the subject, prepared for Ci'om- 
 well's inspection. But events were hastening on that put an end 
 to all such movements. 
 
 It speaks not badly for Cromwell that he chose a person of 
 Howe's sterhng excellence to be so near him. Courts would be 
 different from what they often are, if sovereigns always had 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XT 
 
 ministers of his ability and worth, to be their own religious ad- 
 visers and the pastors of their households. His post, as we can 
 readily imagine, was one most critical and delicate ; yet so wisely 
 did he fill it, that " not a dog could move his tongue" against him. 
 He was often employed by the Protector on honourable special 
 services. On a business of this kind, he once rode from London 
 to Oxford in five hours and a quarter — a transit sufficiently expe- 
 ditious for the roads then, and which would not have discredit- 
 ed even '* royal mails" within our own recollection. Cromwell 
 distributed " forty thousand pounds" a year in charity, a sum tliat 
 would appear immense in our present currency ; and it may be 
 presumed that his chaplain was in most cases his almoner. We 
 may be assured that Cromwell's chaplain would second him in all 
 his generous deeds and grand projects for Protestants and Pro- 
 testantism all over the world. But Howe never used his influence 
 to serve himself. " You have obtained," Cromwell once said to 
 him, " many favours for others ; I wonder when the time is to 
 come that you will solicit any thing for yourself or your family." 
 Sectarianism, equally with selfishness, was abhorrent to his na- 
 ture. Of his good-will towards Episcopal ministers, during his 
 chaplaincy, two instances out of many may be named. When the 
 office of " Principal" in Jesus College, Oxford, was vacant, Dr 
 Seth Ward, afterwards Bishop of Exeter, sought Mr Howe's in- 
 fluence with Cromwell to obtain the appointment for him. Howe 
 introduced him to the Protector, and strongly recommended him 
 to his Highness's favourable consideration. The appointment, 
 however, had been already promised to another person ; but so 
 pleased was Cromwell with what Howe told him privately of Dr 
 Ward, that he good-humouredly asked the Doctor how much he 
 supposed the place to be worth ? and on being told the sum, he 
 promised him an equivalent annual allowance. The witty Dr 
 Thomas Fuller, author of the " Pisgah Sight of Palestine," " Wor- 
 thies of England," &c., had to appear before the " Triers," a 
 board for examining ministers before they were inducted to a 
 charge. Fuller was doubtful what might be the result in his 
 case, when they questioned him on a particular point He came 
 to Howe, saying, " You may observe. Sir, that I am a pretty cor- 
 pulent man, and I have to go through a passage that is very 
 straight ; be so kind as to give me a shove and help mo through." 
 Howe gave the desired " shove ;" and Fuller, " corpulent' as he 
 was, got safely through the " very straight" passage. 
 
 Nothing could induce Howe to compromise truth and con 
 
XVi LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 science. An opinion prevailed at "court" that the particular 
 thing asked in prayer by the people of God, would be granted, 
 whatever it might be. The chaplain was apprehensive to what 
 this opinion, if persisted in, might lead ; and felt himself bound 
 to preach against it before the Protector. The discourse was on 
 " A Particular Faith in Prayer." After the service a " person 
 of distinction" went to him and intimated that he had irrecover- 
 ably lost his Highness's favour. Howe replied that " he had dis- 
 charged what he considered a duty, and could trust the issue with 
 God." It certainly was an occurrence likely to test Cromwell's 
 patience. But it was taken better than was expected, and better 
 probably than it would have been from any other man. Howe 
 said that Cromwell evidently felt the sermon, " was cooler in his 
 carriage to him than before, and sometimes seemed as if he would 
 have spoken to him on the subject ; but never did." Few '' royal 
 chaplains" would have ventured on a like experiment ; or, if they 
 had dared the trial, their fidelity would probably have incurred 
 royal censiu'es much more severe than those with which Howe 
 was visited. If Cromwell's conduct and his household had not 
 been in fair consistency with his religious profession, we may be 
 siu'e we should have heard more of its improprieties from this 
 observant and plain-speaking censor. The above anecdote was 
 attested to Dr Calamy by Mr Jeremiah White, who had been a 
 Fellow at Cambridge, and was joined with Howe in the chaplaincy 
 of Cromwell's family. 
 
 Mr Howe's position, however, became gradually uncomfortable. 
 The unavoidable turmoil, pomp and circumstance of a " palace," 
 must throughout have ill agreed with his tastes and habits ; it 
 had been by constraint, not willingly, that he undertook the chap- 
 laincy. Such a post must always be one of great trial and self- 
 denial to a true minister of Christ. It is likely that Howe had 
 over-rated the opportunities it would give him for serving the 
 christian cause. His dissatisfaction was fast ripening into a re- 
 solve to leave Whitehall, and return to his beloved and quiet 
 Torrington. He asked Baxter's advice, expecting to have his 
 proposal confirmed. But Baxter urged against it. On this Howe 
 again wrote to his " dear and honoured brother," and in the 
 second paragraph told him, — *' Here my influence is not like to be 
 much (as it is not to be expected that a raw young man should be 
 very considerable among grandees) ; my work little ; my success 
 hitherto little ; my hopes, considering the temper of this place, 
 .-t;ry small ; especially coupling it with the temper of my spirit, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XVU 
 
 which, did you know it, alone would, I think, greatly alter your 
 judgment of this case. I am naturally bashful, pusillanimous, 
 easily browbeaten, solicitous about the fitness or unfitness of 
 speech or silence, afraid (especially having to do with those who 
 are constant in arcana imperii) of being .accounted uncivil or 
 busy, &c. ; and the distemper being natural (most intrinsically) 
 is less curable," He concludes the letter thus : — " 1 have de- 
 voted myself to serve God in the work of the ministry, and how 
 can I want the pleasure of hearing their cryings and complaints, 
 who have come to me under convictions, iiic. ? I shall beseech 
 you to weigh my case again." 
 
 The former of these extracts shews that Howe had well-nigh 
 lost all the heart he ever had for the chaplaincy. Both of them 
 afford a tolerably clear insight into the genius of his character. 
 Without disparagement to his dignified intellect and piety, we can 
 imderstand what he means when he speaks of himself as " natur- 
 ally bashful, pusillanimous, easily browbeaten," &c. His tempera- 
 ment was too refined, his sense of propriety too delicate, for him 
 to cope, as on a par, with men full of deceit, proud and over- 
 bearing, setting at nought and putting down all that differ 
 from them, resolved at all hazards to attain their ends. With 
 " Infidels and Papists" feigning piety and Protestantism, Howe 
 could not be himself ; they would not understand him ; to get rid 
 of him they would treat him with contempt, and do what they 
 could to make him appear contemptible, and to make hxm feel that 
 he was deemed so. Against such men, or any others that were 
 insusceptible of impressions from reason, and propriety, and 
 moral obligation, Howe would have no power. But what man of 
 spiritual discernment does not rise from his chair in admiration, 
 as he reads the concluding portion of the letter 1 Rarely, if ever, 
 was there penned a sentence that bespoke, as this does, the ma- 
 jesty of saving mercy, possessing, with its life-giving and glorious 
 presence, an uninspired heart. Howe had been daily familiar 
 with what could dazzle and delight in courtly wealth, splendour, 
 and influence. Thousands would have envied him his place, as 
 domestic chaplain to his Highness the Lord Protector of the 
 Commonwealth of England. But, failing in doing the service he 
 aimed at to God's truth and men's souls, the Palace at Whitehall 
 was no longer to be endured. Let him go where he could hear 
 the cries of minds awakened, distressed, anxious to be set right 
 for eternity — and there he was at home. Elsewhere he could not 
 exist. Can we wonder that a man so travailmg in birth for the 
 
XVlll LIFE 01 JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 salvation of his fellows, should have been the one further honoured 
 to write a treatise on " The Redeemer's Tears wept over Lost 
 Souls ?" Oh ! would that every pastor and preacher had the 
 memorable sentence inscribed by his heart upon his forehead — 
 " I have devoted myself to serve God in the work of the ministry ; 
 and HOW can I want the pleasure of hearing their cryings and 
 complaints, who have come to me under convictions, ^c.V* 
 
 The letter which closes with this golden sentence, is dated June 
 1st, 1658. Its object, as we have seen, was to obtain Baxter's 
 consent to the writer's relinquishing his office at Whitehall, and 
 returning to his pastorate in Devonshire. In two days afterwards 
 he followed it by another, suggesting a medium course. The new 
 plan was to procure a person who should reside constantly at the 
 palace, and enjoy all the emoluments which Howe had received, 
 while Howe himself obtained leave to be with his former charge 
 for a quarter of the year, or as much time beyond that as he 
 might be allowed. This proposal, if not made by Cromwell, was 
 agreed to by him, to meet Howe's wishes, for he remained in 
 oflBice till OUver's death, which occurred on September the 3d 
 following. 
 
 Richard, who succeeded his father OUver in the Protectorate 
 was truly pious, and highly respectable as a private gentleman, 
 but was considered wanting in qualifications for his high station ; 
 perhaps he was more deficient in taste for it, than in capacity. 
 Mr Howe continued chaplain as before. About five weeks after 
 OUver's death, he, with other " younger divines about the Court," 
 attended the conference of upwards of two hundred ministers and 
 messengers of Congregational Churches, held in the Savoy, and 
 from which emanated a " Confession," setting forth the views of 
 doctrine and church order held by the Congregational body. It 
 is thought, that in a few days subsequent to tliis conference he 
 went to Torrington, pursuant to the plan mentioned just now. 
 
 How long he remained in Devonshire on this visit is uncertain ; 
 but he had returned to London before Richard's I'esignation, 
 about the middle of May, 1659, for on the 21st of that month he 
 wrote to Baxter, giving him an account of the contests between 
 the army and the ParUament, leading to that event. That he 
 regretted the change, and foresaw its consequences better than 
 some otliers did, we learn from the last paragraph of this letter. 
 " Sir, such persons as are now at the head of affairs, will blast 
 religion, if God prevent not. The design you writ me of, some 
 time since, to introduce InfideUty or Popery, they have oppor- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN nOWE, A.M. XIX 
 
 tunity enough to effect. I know some leading men are not Chris- 
 tiatis. Religion is lost out of England, further than as it can 
 creep into corners. Those in power who are friends to it, will no 
 more suspect these persons, than their own selves. I am return- 
 ing to my old station, being now at liberty beyond dispute." 
 There is something almost prophetic in these statements ; so per- 
 fectly do the actual results of what had taken place tally with 
 them. They will remind the reader of what has been stated from 
 Baxter's and Howe's correspondence, and Bramhall's letter to 
 Usher, respecting measures taken by Romish agents, feigning 
 themselves Protestants, and entering the Parliamentary array, in 
 order to re-establish Popery in England. Charles the Second 
 had conformed to the Church of Rome some years before his 
 *' restoration" to the throne of Great Britain. To serve his pur- 
 pose of regaining that throne, he had thrice sworn to the " Solemn 
 League and Covenant." To impose on the Presbyterians, who 
 now joined with the army under Monck to bring him back, and 
 whom he afterwards called " God's silly people," he pledged in 
 his proclamation from Breda, " that no man should be disquieted 
 for differences of opinion in matters of religion, which did not 
 disturb the peace of the Kingdom." As if to carry his duplicity 
 to its ne plus ultra, he ordered a deputation of their ministers, who 
 went to him in that city, to be kept waiting while he withdrew to 
 perform his private devotions, which were for the occasion so 
 arranged, and in them his " heart was so enlarged," that they 
 distinctly overheard him " devoutly thanking God that he was a 
 covenanted King, and that he hoped the Lord would give him a 
 humble, meek, and forgiving spirit." And the good men beliered 
 him ! To what lengths mil not human hypocrisy and credulity 
 go, if not prevented from above. 
 
 Howe, once more at Torrington, resumed his much-loved work 
 among his much-loved people. His experience of the publicity, 
 wide survey and sterility, of the storm-girt mountain-top, had 
 not lessened his zest for the quiet and luxuriance of the se- 
 questered valley, as a little paradise, lying in the distance at its 
 feet. He took no part in the changes that were going on in the 
 metropolis ; nor could he, consistently with the views he had of 
 their consequences. Time soon began to prove that his calcula- 
 tions were correct. Before the close of \6G0, infomiaiions wero 
 laid against him for having preached sedition and treason, in two 
 sermons from Galatians vi. 7, 8. He was bound over to appear 
 and answer to the charge at the next sessions. On November 
 
XX LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 14th the trial came on, and he was cleared. For thus clearing 
 him, though by strictly legal process, the mayor, who presided, 
 got into trouble. However, when the cause was reheard at the 
 assizes, the decision of the sessions was affirmed. " One of the 
 informers left the town, and was no more heard of ; the other 
 cut his own throat, and was buried in a cross-road." This prose- 
 cution was a gentle growl from the beast ; he soon began to roar 
 and devour. * 
 
 On January 14, 1662, " An Act for the Uniformity of public 
 prayers," &c.„"in the Church of England," was read a first time in 
 the House of Commons, where it was at length carried by a ma- 
 jority of 186 to 180. After much discussion, it passed the Lords 
 on May 8th ; and received the royal assent on the 1 9th. It was 
 to come into force on August 24th following — a Lord's Day, and 
 the Feast of Saint Bartholomew. By its provisions no man 
 could hold a charge in the Church of England who did not — 1st, 
 Submit to be re-ordained, if he had not been episcopally ordained 
 before ; — 2d, Declare his " unfeigned assent and consent to all 
 and every thing prescribed in * The Book of Common Prayer,* 
 and administration of Sacraments and other rites and ceremonies 
 of the Church of England, together with the Psalter, and the 
 form and manner of making, ordaining, and consecrating of 
 Bishops, Priests, and Deacons ;"— and 3d, Take the oath of 
 canonical obedience. 
 
 It is worthy of remark that, in many cases, the Book of Com- 
 mon Prayer, as then newly constructed, was not forthcoming to 
 the parties concerned, before the day when their decision con- 
 cerning it was to be declared. Mr Baxter, however, and several 
 other eminent ministers, needed not a sight of it to determine 
 their course ; they resigned their charges previously. Altogether, 
 upwards of two thousand declined conformity on the prescribed 
 terms. As one of this " noble army of martyrs" ranked John 
 Howe. Strong as was the love between him and his flock, and 
 great as had been his success among them, he was not the man 
 to sell the truth, even in what some account things indifferent, 
 for affection or expediency. On that memorable day, August 
 24th, 1662 — thenceforward notable in England, as a previous 
 Bartholomew Day had become in France by the massacre of the 
 Protestants —Howe took leave of his people. He preached two 
 sermons on the occasion. He stated " that he had consulted his 
 conscience, and could not be satisfied with the tei'ras of con- 
 formity settled by law ;" and he followed this declaration by a 
 
 r 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXI 
 
 detail of his reasons. Sanctuary upon sanctuary was on that day 
 a " Bochim" — a place of weeping ; such a scene had never been 
 witnessed in the congregation at Torrington, as was that day 
 presented. No vestige of Howe's discourses then preached, is 
 preserved, beyond what has just been mentioned. We are not, 
 however, without information through other channels, as to the 
 grounds of the step he took. They were worthy of himself. His 
 scruples rested on broad general principles, rather than od insu- 
 lated circumstantials. Let him explain himself. 
 
 Dr Wilkins, afterwards Bishop of Chester, in a conversation 
 mth Mr Howe, expressed disappointment that the act of uni- 
 formity had been followed by such consequences, intimating es- 
 pecial surprise that Howe himself, so remarkable for the latitude 
 of his opinions on ecclesiastical matters, should have scrupled to 
 conform ; desiring to know his reasons Howe replied that they 
 had not time then to go into the whole subject, though he would 
 unreservedly do so at a convenient opportunity ; " but one thing 
 he could tell him with assurance, that that latitude of his, which 
 Dr Wilkins was pleased to take notice of, was so far from induc- 
 ing him to conformity, that it was the very thing that made him 
 and kept him a nonconformist." The Doctor then asked him 
 whether it was the discipline of the church, to which he chiefly 
 objected ? To which Howe replied, " that he could not by any 
 means be fond of a church that in reality had no discipline at all, 
 and that he thought that a very considerable objection against 
 the establishment." Wilkins then pressed him to mention some 
 of his principal objections. On this Howe said, '' that he could 
 not recognise, in the present constitution, those noble and gener- 
 ous principles of communion, which he thought must, sooner or 
 later, characterize every church of Christ ; that, consequently, 
 when that flourishing state of religion should arrive, which he 
 thought he had sufficient warrant from the word of God to ex- 
 pect, a constitution which rested on such an exclusive basis, must 
 fall ; that believing this to be the case, he was no more willing to 
 exercise his ministry under such a system, than he would be to 
 dwell in a house built on an insecure foundation." 
 
 Had the non-conforming ministers been mere " idol shepherds," 
 the act which expelled them from their pulpits would have there- 
 by inflicted no great calamity on themselves or their congrega- 
 tions. The latter might have been nearly as well cared for with- 
 out them; and they themselves might quite as pleasantly and as 
 profitably liave engaged in some secular pursuit. But the wor- 
 
XXU LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 thies of 1662 were " men of God." The " good conscience" which 
 obliged Howe to relinquish his chai-ge rather than conform, 
 obliged him still to labour in the gospel as he had opportunity. 
 To be debarred from that must have been to him a trial all but 
 insupportable. He continued to preach as he could, privately 
 among his fi'iends. On returning from one engagement of this 
 kind, he found that an officer from the bishop's court had been 
 to arrest him, and had left notice that citations were out against 
 him and the gentleman under whose roof he had been officiating. 
 The bishop, from whose court the process issued, was the Dr 
 Seth Ward who had obtained from Cromwell, through j\Ir Howe's 
 favourable representation, a gratuitous income equal to the sum 
 arising from a principalship at Oxford. On heai'ing of the cita- 
 tion, Howe went straight to Exeter, and sent intimation to the 
 palace that he was in the city waiting his lordship's pleasure. 
 The bishop at once desired to see him, received him very courte- 
 ously; and soon after, with the freedom of an old acquaintance, 
 began to enquire after his reasons for non-conformity, desiring 
 him to mention one of the points on which he hesitated. Howe 
 named re -ordination. " Pray, sir," said the bishop, '' what hurt 
 is there in being re-ordained ? " " Hurt, my lord," replied Howe, 
 *' it hurts my understanding; the thought is shocking; it is an ab- 
 surdity; since nothing can have two beginnings. I am sure I am 
 a minister of Christ, and am ready to debate that matter with 
 your lordship, if your lordship pleases ; but I cannot begin again 
 to be a minister." The parties then separated, the bishop giving 
 to Mr Howe assurances that he might have considerable prefer- 
 ments if he would conform. Nothing more was heard of the 
 '* citation " to the bishop's court, which had occasioned this in- 
 terview. — -What would oiu' modei-n Exeters say to such a sturdy 
 non-conformist ? Yet, sturdy as he was in his non-conformity, 
 John Howe never for a moment lost the courtesy of the gentle- 
 man, the dignity of the Christian pastor, or the catholicity of the 
 saint. And, in consequence, thotigh firm to the last in his dis- 
 sent, he ceased not to be respected even by members of the 
 hierarchy established by law. 
 
 The reign of the second Charles, and that of his brother James, 
 form one of the darkest passages in the chronicles of Britain. It 
 is equalled only by the reign of Mary, called " the bloody." At 
 Charles's court, licentiousness that owned no law of God or 
 common decency and justice, exhibited an appalling contrast, 
 marked to every eye, with what had been the state of things in 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXlll 
 
 the nation's high places during the commonwealth. The whole 
 power of the government, — with occasional exceptions, the de- 
 vices of a self-serving policy — was directed to extirpate the non- 
 conformists and their principles. Act after act was passed against 
 them, and rigorously put in force. It is sickening to read the 
 records of those times. Some ministers had to betake themselves 
 to the work of day-labourers. " Many of them," said Howe, 
 who knew them well as one of themselves, and seems to have 
 more than heard of or seen what he describes — " many of them 
 live upon charity; some of them with difficulty getting, and others 
 (educated to modesty) with greater dijimlty begging, their bread." 
 It has been stated that nearly eight thousand Dissenters died in 
 gaols; that between the Restoration and the Revolution, penal- 
 ties for assembling for worship were inflicted to the amount of 
 two millions; that sixty thousand persons suffered for dissent; and 
 that, at a moderate calculation, dissenting families lost property 
 by persecution to the extent of twelve or fourteen millions — a sum 
 which, recollecting the difference in the currency of that age and 
 the present, shews what a hold non-conformity had upon the 
 wealth of the country, as well as the severity of the measures 
 taken to suppress it. 
 
 The Rev. George Hughes, Howe's father-in-law, was imprison- 
 ed in the Isle of St Nicholas, in Plymouth Sound ; and Mr Oba- 
 diah Hughes, the son of George, and Howe's brother-in-law, was 
 incarcerated in Plymouth at the same time. The extracts from 
 tlie letters of the father to the son while thus confined, given in 
 Palmer's " Memorial," are most affecting. One of them runs 
 thus: — " We have here in this island good lectures read us every 
 day from heaven and earth, from seas and rocks, from storms 
 and calms, enough to teach us much of God's providence in our 
 morals as well as naturals. Fruitful spirits might gather much 
 of God from them. O that mine were so! How mighri feel out 
 heaven this way. as well as see it by believing! Lord, help, and 
 I shall do it. The everlasting arms of love and mercy keep you 
 blameless, and safe, to the appearance of our Lord." Mr 
 Hughes, in this correspondence, subscribed himself " your father, 
 endeared by the bonds of nature, grace, and sufferings." It 
 is believed that in 1G6.5, Howe was himself confined in the 
 island, already made sacred as the Patmos of his father-in-law. 
 In this time of trial, i lowe wrote to his revered relative — *' Blessed 
 be God, that we can have and hear of each other's occasions of 
 thanksgiving, that we may join praises as well as prayers, which I 
 
XXIV LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 hope is done daily for one another. Nearer approaches, and con- 
 stant adherence to God, with the improvement of our interest iu 
 each other's heart, must compensate (and 1 hope ^^-ill abundantly) 
 the unkindness and instability of a surly treacherotls world; that 
 we see still retains its wayward temper, and grows more peevish 
 as it grows older, and more ingenious iu inventing ways to tor- 
 ment whom it disaffects. It was, it seems, not enough to kill by 
 one single death, but when that was almost done, to give leave 
 and time to respire, to hve again, at least in hope, that it might 
 have the renewed pleasure of putting us to a further pain 
 and torture in dying once more. Spite is natural to her. All 
 her kindness is an artificial disguise ; a device to promote and 
 serve the design of the former with the more efficacious and 
 piercing malignity. But patience will elude the design, and 
 blunt its sharpest edge. It is perfectly defeated when nothing is 
 expected from it but mischief; for then the worst it can tlu'eaten 
 finds us pro\dded, and the best it can promise, incredulous, and 
 not apt to be imposed upon. This will make it at last despair, 
 and grow hopeless, when it finds that the more it goes about to 
 mock and vex us, the more it teaches and instructs us; and that 
 as it is wickeder, we are wiser. If we cannot, God will, outwit 
 it, and carry us safely through to a better world, upon which we 
 may terminate hopes that will never make us ashamed." The 
 extract deserves to be read again. 
 
 While, for the most part, silenced as to preaching, and greatly 
 straightened as to his temporalities, Mr Howe's pen was not idle. 
 Probably he was obliged to employ it as a means of procuring 
 subsistence for his family. In 1668, came out his " Blessedness 
 of the Righteous." Unlike some other pieces of extraordinary 
 merit, its w'orth w'as recognized as soon as it appeared. Perhaps 
 to this publication may be ascribed a proposal he now received 
 to enter tffe family of Lord JMassareue of Antrim Castle, on the 
 banks of Lough Neagh, in Ireland, as domestic chaplain. Apart 
 from his university education, supei'added to his naturally urbane 
 and noble spirit, his residence in the court of Cromwell had pre- 
 pared him for free association with the highest classes of so- 
 ciety. The proposal was recommended to him as one that re- 
 moved him from the vexatious annoyances he was exposed 
 to in England, surrounded him with all that could minister 
 to his comfort by intercourse or convenience, gave him quiet- 
 ness and leisure to prosecute study, with unrestricted liberty 
 in preaching Christ. These considerations, sustained if not led 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXV 
 
 by one more cogent still — poverty — moved him to accept the in- 
 vitation. 
 
 He left for Ireland early in 1 671 . At Holyhead, the port whence 
 he was to " take ship " for that country, he was detained by con- 
 trary winds. Delays are sometimes providential. The Sabbath 
 having come, and the day being fine, Mr Howe and his compa- 
 nions went towards the shore to find a convenient place for social 
 worship. On their way they met the clergyman of the parish 
 and his clerk, riding towards the town. Being told who they 
 were, one of Mr Howe's friends asked the clerk whether his mas- 
 ter preached that day? " No," replied he, " my master does not 
 use to preach; he only reads prayers." On inquiring further, 
 whether the rector would give leave for a minister who was there 
 to use his pulpit? " Very willingly," was the reply. Howe preach- 
 ed that morning; and again in the afternoon to a great concourse, 
 gathered by the report of the morning's sermon. The wind con- 
 tinued contrary the remainder of the week, and " a prodigious 
 multitude " knowing that the great preacher was still in town, 
 crowded to church on Sunday, expecting that of course he 
 would address them. When the clergyman came as usual to 
 read his prayers, and saw the nimibers flocking to hear, he was 
 confounded. He sent his clerk to Mr Howe, with a request that 
 he would come and officiate, declaring " that if he would not como 
 he knew not what to do, for that the country had come in from 
 several miles round in the hope of hearing him." Howe was 
 that mommg ill and in bed. But the thought of usefulness to 
 souls nerved his frame for action. He rose, went, and preached, 
 risking all consequences. He afterwards said that he had never 
 preached with greater freedom, or addressed a more attentive 
 audience, and that " if ever his ministry was useful, he thought it 
 must be then." The wind shortly changed, and the vessel, with 
 Howe and others on. board, sailed for Dublin. The fruits of his 
 unexpected labours in the gospel at Holyhead are known on 
 higli, and will be declared at " the great day." Mr Howe was 
 Hoon followed to Ireland by his family. 
 
 The Lord Massarene, with whom Mr Howe had now gone to 
 reside (previously Sir John Skeffington, Baronet), had acquired 
 his viscountcy by his marriage to the daughter of Sir John 
 Clotworthy, who had been raised to the peerage for his services 
 in the Restoration. The furmer viscount had proved himself a 
 steady friend to the Presbyterians and other nonconformists of 
 Ireland. They were somewhat differently circumstanced from 
 
XXVI LIFE OP JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 theii' brethren in England. Episcopacy was re-established there 
 by proclamation of the Lords Justices, without consulting the 
 Parliament, a considerable time before the English Act of Uni- 
 formity took effect. The Presbyterian ministers of Ulster are 
 said to have been treated with great severity by some of the new 
 prelates, Dr Roger Boyle, who had succeeded the celebrated 
 Jeremy Taylor, in the see of Down and Connor, distinguished 
 himself in this way. Sir Arthur Forbes, a zealous loyalist and 
 Commander of the Forces in Ireland, undertook the cause of the 
 oppressed. Early in 1670, he obtained from Dr Margetson, 
 Archbishop of Armagh, and Dr Michael Boyle, Archbishop of 
 Dublin, a joint letter to the Bishop of Down and Connor, requir- 
 ing him to refrain from further proceedings against the noncon- 
 forming ministers, until the case should be considered at a visitation 
 to be held the following August. The visitation proved favour- 
 able to their cause, the Lord Lieutenant having advised moderate 
 measures, and his grace of Dublin, who was also Lord Chancellor, 
 being inclined to leniency. Indeed, the " Irish Church," par- 
 ticularly in the north of the country, was, on the whole, more 
 Puritanic, and therefore more sound in doctrine and more hberal 
 in spirit, than her sister in England. Usher's theology and his 
 moderation in ecclesiastical matters, has seldom entirely ceased 
 to influence the body. The Dublin University owed not a little, 
 including Usher's library, to the " Parliament men." At the 
 " Restoration," the ministers who conformed, were not required 
 to repudiate their previous " orders," but only to submit to Epis- 
 copal ordination, for the purpose of supplying a deficiency 
 according to the rules of the " Established" communion. The in- 
 fluence of the Antrim Castle family was engaged for the noncon- 
 formists, and was powerful in that neighbourhood. These circum- 
 stances, combined with Howe's talents, learning, respectability, 
 and position as Lord JMassarene's chaplain, will account for what 
 might otherwise appear scarcely credible — from its contrast to 
 what was possible in England — that whUe in Antrim, Mr Howe 
 was " treated with all imaginable respect," that he had "the par- 
 ticular friendship of the bishop of that diocese, who (together with 
 his metropolitan) without demanding any conformity, gave him 
 free liberty to preach in the parish church in that town every 
 Lord's-day in the afternoon;" and that " the Archbishop, in a 
 pretty full meeting of the clergy, told them frankly, that he would 
 have Mr Howe have every pulpit (where he had any concern) 
 open to him, in which he at any time was free to preach." It is 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXVU 
 
 thought tliero are now not a few godly Episcopal ministers in 
 Ireland who wish themselves rid of the trammels which prevent 
 their holding ministerial intercoui'se with their " dissenting 
 brethren." While at Antrim, Mr Howe frequently associated 
 with the Presbyterian ministers of that neighbourhood. In 1674 
 or 5, in conjunction with one of them, he presided over a semi- 
 nary for theological students. 
 
 Enlightened piety then reigned in Antrim Castle. Howe's 
 magnificent discourse, " The Redeemer's Dominion over the In- 
 visible World" — which has been described as " one of the richest 
 and maturest fruits of his genius" — was prepared on the death of 
 John, eldest son of Sir John and Lady Houghton, in 1698. In 
 the dedication of it to the bereaved parents, addressing her lady- 
 ship, who was a daughter of Lord Massarene, he says — " And, 
 Aladam, who could have a more pleasant retrospect of former days 
 than you, recounting your Antrim delights, the delight you took in 
 your excellent relations, your garden delights, your closet delights, 
 your Lord's-day delights ! But how much greater a thing is it 
 to serve God in your present station ; as the mother of a numer- 
 ous and hopeful offspring ; as the mistress of a large family ; 
 where you bear your part, with your likeminded consort, in sup- 
 porting the interest of God and religion, and have opportunity of 
 scattering blessings around you." This touching allusion to her 
 ladyship's " Antrim delights," places Howe before us in the bosom 
 of the family, where social and rural pleasures abounded, puri- 
 fied and exalted by communion with God, and his "peace which 
 passeth all understanding." 
 
 He remained at Antrim about five years. In the early part of 
 this term he published his " Vanity of Man as Mortal " " It has 
 l)een the judgment of many," says Calamy, "that this discourse 
 is as noble a piece of true theological oratory as can be easily 
 met with." Professor Rogers pronounces it '* the most eloquent 
 of all his productions ;" nor is it less distinguished for the origin- 
 ality and power of its reasoning. It was composed on the death 
 of Mr Anthony Upton, a relation of Mr Howe, whose corpse was 
 brought home when the family connexions were contemplating a 
 general gathering to bid him welcome on his return after an 
 absence of between twenty and thirty years in Spain. The cir- 
 cumstance which suggested the " text" of the discourse (Psalm 
 Ixxxix. 47, 48 ) is curious, and will cause a smile. It belongs to 
 a " genus" under the " class" which includes the dream of Pilate's 
 wife.. One of the friends " having been some time before sur- 
 
XXVlil LIFE Of JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 prised with an unusual sadness, joined with an expectation of ill 
 tidings, upon no known cause, had so urged an inculcation of 
 those words, as not to be able to forbear the revolving them 
 much of the former part of that day, in the latter part whereof 
 the first notice was brought to that place of this so near a rela- 
 tion's decease. Certain months after," continues Howe in his 
 dedication, " some of you with whom 1 was then conversant in 
 London, importuned me to have somewhat from me in writing 
 upon that subject. Whereto at length I agreed, with a caution- 
 ary request that it might not come into many hands, but might 
 remain (as the occasion was) among yourselves. Nor will I deny 
 it to have been some inducement to me to apply my thoughts to 
 that theme, that it had been so suggested as was said. For such 
 presages and abodings, as that above mentioned, may reasonably 
 be thought to owe themselves to some more steady and universal 
 principles than casualty, or the party's own imagination ; by 
 whose more noble recommendation (tliat such a gloomy premoni- 
 tion might carry with it not what should only afflict, but also in- 
 struct and teach) this subject did seem offered to our meditation. 
 Accordingly, therefore, after my return to the place of my abode, 
 I hastily drew up the substance of the following discourse," &c. 
 It was hardly to be expected, that even John Howe should alto- 
 gether escape what many will call an " infirmity" of his age. 
 The then " orthodox" faith respecting " presages and abodings," 
 and other matters of that class, will find it drawn out, in full 
 quantum suffi,cit for any lover of the mystical and the marvellous, 
 in Flavel's Treatise on the Soul of Man. The subject is not un- 
 interesting as a branch of the phenomena of our nature. And 
 the world and the church would have had reason to rejoice in the 
 " faith" they sometimes profess to pity, if that " faith" had always 
 produced " fruits" equal to Howe's " Vanity of Man as Mortal." 
 
 In 1674 came out his "Delighting in God," which was the 
 substance of some sermons he had preached twenty years before 
 to the people of Torrington, with some additions and enlarge- 
 ments. He dedicated it to his old friends, the inhabitants of 
 that town, by a masculine, but, at the same time, most tender and 
 affectionate epistle to them from Antrim. The " dedication" 
 is worth transcribing ; but we must pass on. 
 
 Towards the end of 1675, Howe received an invitation to the 
 pastorate in the congregation of Dissenters worshipping in Silver 
 Street, London, His mind was painfully exercised in ascertain- 
 ing the path of duty with regard to this " call," partly from 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXIX 
 
 there being a difference of opinion among the people, — some of 
 them pfeferring Mr Charnock, — and partly, if not chiefly, from 
 his being in very delicate health. He resolved on going to Lon- 
 don to judge of matters on the spot. After his death a paper 
 was found, headed, " Considerations and Communings with my- 
 self concerning my present journey. Dec. 20,-75, by Night on 
 my Bed." It details an almost morbidly minute scrutiny of the 
 case, and of himself in connection with it, under four general 
 topics of inquiry. The examination is confined to his undertak- 
 ing the " journey," and exhibits a wide contrast to the haste 
 with which " removals" are at present often resolved on. The 
 document concludes with eight " Consolations to my wife and 
 other relations, supposing they hear of my death." Under the 
 second he says, *' You are to consider me not as lost in my 
 prime," yet he was only forty-five ; " but as now I am sensibly 
 under great decays, and not likely to continue long, except some 
 means, hitherto not thought on, should have been tried. What 
 a summer had I of the last ! seldom able to walk the streets ; and 
 not only often disabled by pain, but weakness." Little did he 
 then calculate on the many years of effective labour that were still 
 before him. 
 
 Early in 1676 he finally left Ireland and settled in London. 
 Once more in public life, though a principled Nonconformist, he 
 was on intimate terms with Tillotson, afterwards Archbishop of 
 Canterbury ; Sharp, afterwards Archbishop of York ; Stilling- 
 fleet, afterwards Bishop of Worcester ; Kidder, afterwards Bishop 
 of Bath and Wells ; and other noted Episcopalians. He did not 
 think, nor did they expect, nor did truth and charity allow, that 
 he should refrain from maintaining his opinions as a Dissenter, 
 when he judged it expedient to do so. When riding with Tillot- 
 son in liis carriage, he had him in tears for sentiments which he 
 had uttered in a sermon preached before the king in St Paul's ; 
 and the good dean apologised for them. He also published a re- 
 ply to Stillingfleet's " Mischief of Separation from the Church of 
 England," which represented all the Dissenters as " schisma- 
 tics," ^c. It is sometimes imagined that the "unity of the Spi- 
 rit" demands silence, and even compromise, upon points vvith 
 regard to which Christians differ. Many persons are so testi/, 
 that if you venture, however kindly, to controvert their views or 
 the peculiarities of their body, they deem it an affront, and 
 charge you with " a breach of the peace" among Christ's follow- 
 ers. How preposterous I As if Paul were guilty of a great sin 
 
XXX LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 when he " withstood Peter to the face because he was to be 
 blamed," or as if instead of saying " Let the righteous smite me, 
 it shall be as kindness," we should say " If any man presume 
 to speak against my sentiments, I'll renounce his fellowship, and 
 treat him as a foe," — or, as if the divine law of charity were de- 
 signed to stereotype error and evil-doing in the Church of God ! 
 " Reasoning out of the Scriptures " upon religious subjects re- 
 specting which differences prevail, is surely not in itself an evil. 
 Investigation ought to be as free and salutary in matters eacred 
 as in matters secular. Schisms of affection among brethren are 
 always to be deprecated ; but when they ensue on discussions 
 for ascertaining or commending what a person believes to be di- 
 vine truth, the fault rests at his door who allows his carnality to 
 be stirred with sinful passion. Care, however, must be taken 
 that the time chosen for discussion be convenient, that more im- 
 portance be not attached to the question than is intrinsically or 
 relatively its due, and that the argument be conducted through- 
 out in a spirit that accords with honest concern for the Saviour's 
 glory and the good of men. Let the discussion resemble, not the 
 tornado which spreads desolation while exulting in its power, 
 but the gentle health-diffusing breeze of a spring morning, which 
 is just strong enough to disperse the mists that curtain the earth, 
 and then at once subsides, gi\'ing us and all nature afterwards to 
 rest in the tranquil brightness, growth, and buoyancy, it has 
 ushered in. 
 
 The year 1676 gave to the world the "First Part" of Mr 
 Howe's greatest work — " The Living Temple." It was inscribed 
 to " that worthy person. Sir John Skeffington of Fisherwick, in 
 Staffordshire, Baronet, also Viscount Lord Massarene, Governor 
 of the county of Londonderry, and one of the Lords of his Ma- 
 jesty Charles the Second's most honourable Privy Council in the 
 kingdom of Ireland." After this inscription Howe begins, " Al- 
 though I am not, my Lord, without the apprehension that a 
 temple ought to have another sort of dedication, yet I have no 
 such pique at the custom of former days, but that I can think it 
 decent and just tliat a discourse concerning ore conceived under 
 your roof, though born out of your house, should openly own the 
 relation which it thereby hath, and the Author's great obligations 
 to your Lordship ; and upon this account I can easily persuade 
 myself (though that custom hath much given place to this latter 
 one), not to be so fashionable as even to write in masquerade." 
 Having stated that by connecting Lord ^lassarene's name with 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXXI 
 
 this treatise, he had not more jeoparded his Lordship's honour 
 than he had that of the " main cause" itself by writing it, ho 
 proceeds, " And if, in any unforeseen state of things, you should 
 ever receive prejudice, or incur dangei', by any real service you 
 should design unto the temple of God, your adventure would be 
 the more honourable by how much it were more hazardous. The 
 Order of Templai's, your Lordship well knows, was not, in former 
 days, reckoned inglorious." A " Second Part" was published in 
 1702, and — Lord Massai'ene being then dead — the whole was in- 
 scribed " to the Right Honourable Lord William Pagett, Baron 
 of Beaudesert, in the county of Stafford,'' — a connection of the 
 Viscoimt iMassarene, and an ancestor of the present Marquis of 
 Anglesey. 
 
 The author appears to have concentrated upon this trea- 
 tise the wealth, energy, and wisdom, of his well -stored and 
 gifted mind. The book is itself a " temple." Excepting that 
 reared by inspired architects, no edifice of the kind was ever 
 built by man, as a whole, to compare with it. Its walls of 
 thought, massive, lofty, and capacious, bespeak stability and 
 grand design. The inscription on its portal tells us it is " Holy 
 to the Lord." On entering it we find no lack of ornament or fit- 
 ting furniture ; there is a table of shew-bread, a candlestick with 
 well-trimmed lamps, and an incense altar ; and it is hung round 
 with spoils won from the " philosophy and vain deceit" that had 
 sought to rob the world of piety and Deity. Before us is the 
 " presence" of Jehovah — clear and impressive demonstrations 
 of the divine existence and glory. That presence is recognised 
 " conversable" with man — with man ruined, desecrated, guilty. 
 For there stands, ministering for our race, the great High Priest 
 of the gospel, offering the propitiation of his own blood. There, 
 too, is felt the descended grace of the Holy Ghost, made visible on 
 every hand by its effects, in the profound, entire, and grateful 
 homage of human intellect, learning, and heart, in honour of 
 God's manifested majesty, sanctity, and love. The '• Temple," 
 which the book treats of, is man — defiled, abandoned, desolate, 
 through sin — re-built, re-hallowed, re-inhabited, through Christ. 
 It abounds with paragraphs of surpassing cogency and splendour. 
 It is for the most part occupied with the atheistic controversy, 
 and contains the elements of what the Clarkes and the Paleys 
 advanced in tlie following century. Hints for the a priori of the 
 former were to be had from the schools. Ample materials for 
 
XXXU LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 a posteriori illustrations were being furnished at the time by Ray. 
 From the nature of the discussions, the " Living Temple" is not 
 apt to interest general readers equally with some other of the 
 author's works. But it is surprising how much of conscience- 
 stirring practical appeal is intermingled with its elaborate reason- 
 ings. Nor can the Christian fail to admire how beautifully Howe 
 connects the pith and marrow of the gospel with topics which 
 many would think too abstruse and remote to admit of close and 
 vital approximation to tlie Cross. 
 
 Mr Howe's treatise " On the Reconcileableness of God's Pre- 
 science of the Sins of Men, with the Wisdom and Sincerity of his 
 Counsels and Exhortations, and whatever other means he uses to 
 prevent them," appeared in 1677. It is addressed by letter to 
 the Honourable Robert Boyle, at whose request it was prepared. 
 Mr Boyle is well known as one of the most eminent philosophers 
 of his age, and also as a man of great piety. The subject of this 
 treatise involves difficulties not less than these connected with the 
 origin of evil. To say that Howe has mastered them would be 
 saying that he has achieved an impossibility. The harmonizing 
 point or principle between the fact of man's total dependeyice on 
 his Maker for all good, moral as well as physical, and the fact of 
 man's being so the author of his own conduct as to be positively, 
 and consciously and rationally, accountable to his Maker, is 
 lodged among the mysteries of the Deity, at a depth to which 
 the mind of man has not reached, perhaps we may say, to which 
 the mind of a creature cannot reach. It may be one of these 
 secrets — of which who can question there are many ? — which it is 
 peculiar to God to know, and which it requires the capacity of 
 divine intelligence to ascertain. That both axe facts, reason, con- 
 sciousness, and revelation, equally and unequivocally attest. 
 That they are reconcileable and liai'monious, as truth necessarily 
 is with truth, we may be as equally and unequivocally assured. 
 Our duty and our privilege is to recognise, and rest in, both as 
 facts ; and in their ultimate and essential consistency as another 
 *' fact" certain, as if we had for ourselves seen it, or as if it had 
 been proved to us by axiomatic or syllogistic demonstration. 
 Howe's treatise is a fine specimen of vigorous and sober think- 
 ing, worthy of being read if it were only for encouraging right 
 habits of mental exercise upon the subject. " Calvinists," as 
 well as *' Arminians," have often been too narrow, too superfi- 
 cial, and, we must add, too vain, in their speculations. It is piti- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXXUl 
 
 able to reflect what a mutilated, dwarfish, ill-constructed thing, 
 Truth has appeared, in showings made of her by some who have 
 undertaken to exhibit her to the world. 
 
 Of Howe's pulpit discourses after his return to London, up to 
 the year 1681, various series have been given to the public since 
 his death. They include nineteen sermons on the Work of the 
 Holy Spirit in reference to Particular Persons ; fifteen on the 
 Prosperous State of the Christian Interest by a Plentiful Effusion 
 of the Holy Spirit ; eujht on the Vanity of a Formal Profession of 
 Religion ; seventeen on the Love of God and our Brother ; be- 
 sides ten on miscellaneous topics. Speaking of the time when 
 those on the Holy Spirit were delivered, namely, from November 
 1677 to October 1678, Dr Evans, the editor, says in his preface, 
 " That was a time of peculiar distress and danger, not only to 
 Protestants out of the legal establishment in these kingdoms, 
 but to the reformed interest in general through Europe." 
 
 But the year 1681, and several that followed, were still more 
 fearful for England's liberty and nonconformity. The crown, 
 with its minions, prepared to do its woret towards establishing 
 its " prerogative" on the principles of " Divine right" and " non- 
 resistance," in utter scorn of the people's privileges chartered 
 by the "constitution." In 1683, that noble patriot and Chris- 
 tian, Lord William Russell, was sacrificed ; a martyr for Pro- 
 testantism and the rights of his countrymen. After his execu- 
 tion, Mr Howe wrote, anonymously, a long, most able and 
 touching letter of condolence to his lordship's widow. Mr 
 Montgomery of Sheffield, no incompetent judge, in his " Christian 
 Correspondence," distinguishes this above all the remaining 422 
 letters inserted in his three volumes, by pronouncing it " one of 
 the noblest and most pathetic pieces of epistolary composition in 
 the language." And let Lady Russell's four letters to Dr Fitz- 
 william, inserted in the first volume of Mr Montgomery's 
 collection, be read along with it. Though sent anonymously, 
 the writer could not be hid. An intimacy now began between 
 Mr Howe and that noble family, which was honourable and ad- 
 vantageous to both. May each member of the house of Russell 
 possess the piety of its ancestors. 
 
 Several of the bishops and magistrates urged on the persecu- 
 tion of the Dissenters to the last extremity. In the county of 
 Devon, a reward of " forty shillings" wg^ offered to any one who 
 should discover a nonconformist minister. Under date of Janu- 
 ary 14, 1684, the Justices of the Peace of the county of Bedford, 
 issued an order for putting iu execution the laws against Dis- 
 
 
 
XXXiv LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 senters, and Dr Barlow, bishop of the diocese, (Lincoln,) pub- 
 lished a circulai* to his clergy to the same effect. This produced 
 an expostulatory letter from Howe to that prelate, before which 
 the most inveterate bigoti'y and enmity must have quailed. 
 
 During these years of severe trial from without, Howe pub- 
 lished various admirable pieces. Among them was, in 1681, 
 his " Discourse on Thoughtfulness for the Morrow," dedicated 
 " to the Right Honourable Ann, Lady Wharton." From the 
 style in which he addresses her, it is manifest she was a lady of 
 sterling Christian excellence ; nor, happily for his family and 
 the church, was Lord Wharton inferior in piety to his lady. In 
 1682, came out " Self-dedication, discoursed in the Anniversary 
 Thanksgiving of a Person of Honour for a Great Dehverance." 
 The « Pei-son" was " The Right Honourable John, Earl of Kil- 
 dare. Baron of Ophalia, First of his Order in the Kingdom of 
 Ireland," an ancestor of the present Duke of Leinster. The 
 "great deliverance," was the earl's preservation when in imminent 
 danger " by a fall from a hoi-se, December 5, 1674." The dis- 
 course was published, as well as preached, at the earl's desire. 
 The " anniversary thanksgiving" shows a devout acknowledg- 
 ment of Providence worthy of imitation. In 1 683 came from 
 the pulpit and the press, Howe's " Sermon concerning Union 
 among Protestants." This sermon was delivered at what was 
 called the "* Morning Exercise" — a stated lecture in which some . 
 point of doctrinal, practical, or casuistic theology was formally 
 discussed by one of the principal dissenting ministers of the 
 metropolis. Their discourses were published in six volumes, the 
 fifth of which, consisting of lectures on the Roman Catholic 
 controversy, contains, allowing for a few idiosyncrasies, as great 
 a mass of varied argument, learning, and Gospel truth, as ever 
 was brought together on the subject in the same compass of press- 
 work ; — it presents, most advantageously, the strength of the 
 nonconformist ministry arranged against an " abomination that 
 maketh desolate," Howe's sermon on " Union" is in the third 
 volume of the series. It has been well chosen for repubUeation 
 in the following pages. Nothing, from Howe or any other man, 
 could have been selected, more excellent, or more opportune for 
 the movement so happily begun towards openly recognising the 
 union already — and always — existing among real Christians. We 
 have seen, that early in life Howe had embraced the principle, 
 that piety — the regenerating work of the Spirit in the heart — is 
 the true basis of religious fellowship. From this principle he 
 never swerved. The ground and bond of union in the Church 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXXV 
 
 below and in the Church above, is the same — faith in Christ, 
 shown by submission to him — in other words, a manifestly sincere 
 reception of Immanuel as Prophet, Priest, and King. The 
 visible union contended for by Howe, and to be sought by us, is 
 a union without compromise of diiTering opinions among its 
 members — a union in which full scope is to be given for " exhort- 
 ing one another," though not for judging one another — for 
 " speaking the truth," wide as our convictions may extend, with 
 no other restriction than that it be done " in love." In 1684, 
 was pubhshed the treatise which stands the first in this volume 
 — " The Redeemer's Tears wept over Lost Souls." It is a 
 treatise which tells the mental and moral character of Howe as 
 a minister, as much as anything he ever wrote. The commence- 
 ment is in the highest style of graphic description. The pathos 
 in the pictures afterwards drawn, opens the fountains of grief in 
 the reader's heart, and he mingles his own tears with the Re- 
 deemer's, over the lost Jerusalem souls. The succeeding ex- 
 planations, admonitions, and expostulations, counsels, encourage- 
 ments, are all so nicely put, and yet breathe such a majesty 
 and earnestness of compassionate anxiety to win and save men, 
 by bowing down their spirits under the influence of truth mani- 
 fested to the conscience, that, after reading it, one concludes 
 that mind can do no more with fellow minds, in dekling for their 
 conversion. Let every reader go through it with prayer about 
 the case of his own soul. 
 
 In the year 1685, 31 r Howe somewhat suddenly received and ac- 
 cepted an invitation from Philip Lord Wharton, before named, to 
 accompany him in atom* on the Continent. From an affecting letter 
 which he addressed to his congregation after he had left England, 
 it appears that he had no opportunity of giving formal notice to 
 his people of his leaving them. It appears, also, that persecution 
 was then carried to such an extent in tlie metropolis, that it was 
 hazardous for him to walk the streets, and that his health was 
 seriously impaired by confinement to his house. The letter is 
 inscribed, " To such in and about London, among whom I have 
 laboured in the Work of the Gospel. My most dearly beloved 
 in our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, grace, mercy, and 
 peace, be through him multiplied unto you." It lays open the 
 pastor's heart. It is hardly possible to imagine anything more 
 kind, wise, or appropriate. The limits within which this account 
 must be confined, prevent the insertion of more than two ex- 
 tracts, very brief, but inimitably characteristic. After exhorting 
 his people to trust Providence under their trials, he cautions 
 them against inntation towards their persecutors, and writes — 
 
XXXVl LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 " Oh ! the gentleness, kindness, tenderness, and compassion- 
 ateness, of the evangelical, truly (Christian spirit, as it most 
 eminently appeared in our Lord Jesus Christ himself ! And we 
 are told, ' If any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of 
 his.' And how easy and pleasant is it to one's own self, to be 
 void of all wrathfulness and vindictive designs towards any other 
 man ! For my own part, I should not have that peace and con- 
 solation in a suffering condition, (as my being so many years 
 under restraint from that pleasant work of pleading with sinners 
 that they might be saved, is the greatest suffering I was liable to 
 in this world,) as through the goodness of God I have found, and 
 do find, were I not conscious to myself of no other than kind and 
 benign thoughts towards them I have suffered by, and that my 
 heart tells me I desire not the least to hurt them that would do 
 me the greatest." The parenthesis in this extract will remind 
 the reader of what we have called a " golden sentence" in one of 
 Howe's letters to Baxter. To prevent his people fi'om being 
 " sunk in dejection," he says, among other things, " As the bit- 
 terness of Christians one towards another chased away his 
 Spirit, his Spirit shall vanquish and drive away all that bitter- 
 ness, and consume our other dross. And, as the apostacy long 
 ago foretold, and of so long continuance in the Christian Church, 
 hath been begun and continued by constant wars against the 
 Spirit of Christ ; the restitution and recovery of the Church, and 
 the I'eduction of Christianity to its ancient self, and primitive 
 state, will be by the victory of the Spirit of Christ over that so 
 contrary spirit. Then shall all the enmity, pride, wrathfulness, 
 and cruelty, which have rent the Church of Christ, and made it so 
 little itself, be melted down ; and with all their great impurities 
 besides, earthliness, carnality, love of this present world, and 
 prevalence of sensual lusts, be purged more generally away ; and 
 his repairing work be done in a way grievous to none, ichereby those 
 that are most absolutely conquered will be most highly pleased : not by 
 might or by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord." The italics 
 are not Howe's ; they have been introduced to mark his thought. 
 Mr Howe spent about twelve months with Lord Wharton, vi- 
 siting the principal cities of Europe. No change for the better 
 having occurred by that time in England, he took a house in 
 Utrecht, affording accommodation to distinguished persons who 
 came to that city. With other exiles he preached at the English 
 church there, and he superintended the studies of some young 
 men who were at the University preparing for the ministry. He 
 became acquainted with the leading scholars on the Continent. 
 Mr (afterwards Bishop) Burnet frequently preached and com- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXXVU 
 
 muned with his nonconfo»nist brethren there. Mr Howe had 
 several interviews with the Prince of Orange, afterwards Wil- 
 liam the Third of England, who " discoursed with him with great 
 freedom, and ever afterwards entertained a great respect for 
 him." In 1687, James II. published a " declaration for liberty 
 of conscience." On this Howe agreed to return to his charge in 
 London. When calling to take leave of the Prince, his Royal 
 Highness counselled him and the other Dissenters to great cau- 
 tion, how they appeared to concur in the measures of the English 
 court. King James, in conversation with Mr Howe, wished him to 
 countenance " addresses" to him from the Dissenters ; but Mr 
 Howe respectfully excused himself, as not thinking it right for a 
 minister of the Gospel to meddle in State atfairs. The most pain- 
 ful reply which James received was from the Duke of Bedford, 
 whom, in his extremity, he summoned to his council. " My 
 Lord," said James, " you are a good man, and have a great influ- 
 ence ; you can do much for me at this time." The Duke an- 
 swered, " I am an old man, and can do but little ;" then added 
 with a deep sigh, " I had once a son, that could now have been 
 very serviceable to your Majesty" — alluding to the Lord Russell 
 who had been sacrificed to the vengeance of James, then Duke 
 of York. The King, we are told, was sti'uck dumb by this an- 
 swer, so that he could make no reply. 
 
 Upon the "glorious Revolution" in 1688, Mr Howe headed 
 the Dissenting ministers when they brought up their address to 
 the Throne, and *' made a handsome speech on the occasion." 
 An attempt was soon made to induce the new Government to 
 adopt the old course towai'ds the Dissenters, although they had 
 contributed greatly towards accomplishing the change in which 
 all lovers of their country had reason to rejoice. This led hira 
 to publish " The Case of the Protestant Dissenters Represented 
 and Argued." There is in this piece a tone of calm independ- 
 ence and determination, answering to the strength of the cause 
 and to the manliness of the writer. His appeals are not only to 
 Christians, but to Englishmen, as citizens. He claims civil rights 
 for the Dissenters, and sustains his plea by referring to their past 
 conduct in standing by the true interests of their country. His 
 allusion to the sufferings of the Dissenters, and to the awful pro- 
 fanation by " the exclusive sacramental test, brought down as 
 low as to the keeper of an ale-house," are overwhelming. The 
 opponents of the Dissenters failed for that time. On May 24th, 
 1689, the " Act of Toleration" received the royal assent. Howe 
 then published his " Humble Requests both to Conformists and 
 
XXXVUl LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 Dissenters, touching their temper and behaviour towards each 
 other upon the lately passed Indulgence" — a document well 
 adapted to the occasion, but one for which the minds of the par- 
 ties were not yet ready. 
 
 It is believed that Mr Howe had much to do in preparing what 
 were called the " Heads of Argument" — a code of rules on which, 
 in 1691, it was attempted to establish a union between the 
 " Presbyterians" and " Congregationalists," the distinction of one 
 from the other consisting already more in name than in fact. 
 But differences soon arose which nullified what had been done. 
 Some of the Independents were zealous " Calvinists," according 
 to the then received meaning of the name. Some of the other 
 class inclined to what was then considered the " Arminian" view ; 
 and among them was Richard Baxter. He, and five other minis- 
 ters, including worthy men of both parties, united in a weekly 
 lecture. The publication of a Dr Crisp's works, witii a certifi- 
 cate of their "genuineness," signed by Mr Howe and others, 
 stirred Baxter and those who agreed with him in doctrine. One 
 of the lecturers, Mr Williams, (afterwards Dr, and the founder 
 of Red Cross Street Library,) published his " Gospel Truth Vin- 
 dicated," to which strong exceptions were taken by some who 
 were engaged in the same lecture. A separation ensued, pre- 
 ceded and followed by unbecoming heats on both sides. These 
 doctrinal disputes led to the preaching and publication, by Mr 
 Howe, of his two discourses on "the Carnality of Religious Conten- 
 tion." Both parties in the controversy held the substantial of the 
 "faith," and both were, perhaps, more or less iiltra in some of their 
 opinions. Howe's aim was to allay animosities, and bring them 
 to love and live as brethren. The reader, on perusing these dis- 
 courses, given in this volume as a suitable, if not necessary, ac- 
 companiment to the sermon on " Union among Protestants," will 
 value them as they deserve. The second, in a series of particu- 
 lars, points out the forms under which " carnality" may show 
 itself in contentions about religion, in the advocates of truth as 
 well as in the followers of false doctrine. In how many instances 
 have champions of "orthodoxy" breathed a spirit in their state- 
 ments, which, whatever evidence of truth their reasonings have 
 pressed upon the head, could not fail to excite and foment the 
 worst workings of depravity in the heart. It is not enough 
 that a man is conscious of defending truth. He must watch his 
 temper, lest his animus counterworks his arguments, and his well- 
 intended efforts do irreparable mischief to himself and his neigh- 
 bours, and to the holy and heavenly cause he designs to serve. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. XXXIX 
 
 We are to " contend earnestly for the faith which was once de- 
 livered to the saints ;" and we must " declare" to the church and 
 to the world, " the whole counsel of God," keeping back " no- 
 thing that is profitable." Yet this may be done, and we are 
 bound to do it, in a manner consistent with another equally ex- 
 press apostolic rule — '* the servant of the Lord must not strive, 
 but be gentle unto all men ; in meekness instructing those that 
 oppose themselves, if God peradveuture will give them repent- 
 ance to the acknowledging of the ti*uth." These sermons were 
 delivered in 1693. The " Preface" to them is not less excellent 
 than the discourses themselves. In several parts of it Howe as- 
 serts his views of Christian communion. He represents " exclud- 
 ing those whom Christ would admit, and admitting those whom 
 Christ would exclude," as " in itself a real sin." He describes 
 Christians as " a sort of men tending to God and blessedness 
 under the conduct of Christ, to whom they have by covenant de- 
 voted themselves, and to God in him." " The Lord's table," he 
 tells us, " certainly ought to be free to his guests, and appropri- 
 ate to them. And who should dare to invite others, or forbid 
 these ?" Let these principles be carried out ; let Churches re- 
 cognize " Christian communion" as " being of Chi'istians as 
 such ;" let their fellowship be " made up of persons that with 
 judgment, and in practice, own the very substance of the Christ- 
 ian religion." Then we shall soon see " every pot in Jerusalem 
 holiness unto the Lord," " and there shall be no more the Ca- 
 naanite in the house of the Lord of hosts." Churches will be 
 brotherhoods of saints, all prepared to blend as parts of " the 
 whole family in heaven and earth." But till that principle be 
 recognized, fellowship among all Churches^ as such, there c.mnot 
 be ; we must be content with fellowship among those Churches, 
 as stick, who do acknowledge it. Beyond that line we must take 
 the fellowship of individuals, making that, however, wide as the 
 fellowship of " the saved." 
 
 In the above " Preface," speaking of his having, in publishing 
 the discourses, " complied with a sort of necessity," he says, "my 
 own memorials and preparations were, indeed, imperfect enough, 
 as it cannot but be in the case of one, so often in the week en- 
 gaged in such work." What the sermons were which he preach- 
 ed " so often in the week" from " memorials and preparations" 
 " imperfect enough," we have other and more ample means of 
 judging. Between the years 1690 and 1694, were delivered the 
 several courses of sermons which form the latter part of the sixth, 
 and the whole of the seventh and eighth volumes, in the octavo 
 
Xl LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 edition of his works, edited some years ago, by the Rev. John 
 Hunt, now of Brixton. To that gentleman ministers and othei-s 
 are under great obligations, for placing within their reach so large 
 a store of precious materials. In 1 694, were also preached the 
 sermons on " Famil}^ Religion and Worship." 
 
 The years 1694 and 1695 produced Howe's pieces on the Tri- 
 nity. The first and principal is entitled " A Calm and Solemn 
 Inquiry concerning the possibility of a Trinity in the Godhead." 
 It contains a summary of the evidence from Scripture in proof of 
 a Trinity, but the object and scope of it are precisely what the 
 title expresses — the " possibility" of a Trinity. The " inquiry" 
 is, indeed, " calm and sober" — a model of writing on such a sub- 
 ject. The concluding sentences of the " Postscript" will serve as 
 a specimen. They regard the " simplicity" of the Divine nature, 
 which some affirm excludes a Trinity. After explaining what 
 simplicity may, and what may not, be believed as essential to 
 God, the writer proceeds — "I judge human (and even all created) 
 minds, very incompetent judges of the divine simplicity. We 
 know not what the divine nature may include consistently with 
 its own perfection, nor what it must, as necessary thereto. Our 
 eye is no judge of corporeal simplicity. In darkness it discerns 
 nothing but simplicity, without distinction of things : in more 
 dusky light the whole horizon appears most simple, and every 
 where like itself : in brighter light, we perceive great varieties, 
 and much greater if a microscope assist our eye. But of all the 
 aerial people that replenish the region (except rare appearances 
 to very few,) we see none. Here we want not objects, but a 
 finer eye. It is much at this rate with our minds, in beholding 
 the spii-itual sphere of beings ; most of all the Uncreated, which 
 is remotest, and furthest above, out of our sight. We behold 
 simplicity ! and what do we make of that ? vast undistinguished 
 vacuity ! sad, immense solitude ! only this at first view. If we 
 draw nearer, and fix our eye, we think we apprehend somewhat, 
 but dubiously hallucinate, as the half-cured blind man did, when 
 he tliought he saw men like trees. But if a voice which we ac- 
 knowledge to be divine, speak to us out of the profound abyss, 
 and tell us of grateful varieties and distinctions in it ; good God ! 
 shall we not believe it ? Or, shall we say we cleai'ly see that is 
 not, which only zee do not see ? This seems like somewhat worse 
 than blindness." 
 
 This extract proves that at " sixty-five" the author's faculty 
 of acute and dignified argument was in no degree impaired. 
 Neither was there the semblance of failure in his pulpit minis- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. xH 
 
 trations. The celebrated antiquary, Ralph Thoresby, visited 
 London in 1 695, and made this entry in his diary — " May J 9, 
 Die Doni. Heard the famous Mr Howe, both morning and after- 
 noon, who preached incomparably." 
 
 When nearly " sixty-eight" his large heart retained in full 
 freshness those generous sympathies which are the soul of friend- 
 ship. Under date of " March 18, 1698," he thus wrote to the 
 Rev. Mr Spilsbury of Bromsgrove. " May I once more hope 
 to salute my dear brother in this world ? Whether I shall or 
 not, I must leave to Him to whom greater, and all things must 
 be left. Thou mayest have taken thy flight before this reaches 
 thee, but the soul and spirit from whence it comes may in due 
 time ; through the infinite riches of freest grace, and the atoning 
 blood of that sacrifice which once for all was offered up. ' We 
 come to the general assembly and to the spirits of just men made 
 perfect,' but as we come to * Jesus, the Mediator of the New Tes- 
 tament, and to the blood of sprinkling.' ' By his own blood he 
 is entered into the holy of holies, as the forerunner, and for us.' 
 Upon such terms may sinful unprofitable servants hope to enter, 
 and be received under the notion of faithful, and as those that are 
 graciously counted such, into the joy of their Lord. Thou art 
 ready to enter, and wilt shortly be adoring before the throne : 
 oh, with what complacency ! receiving the end of thy faith, hav- 
 ing fought the good fight of it ! And must thy poor brethren 
 left behind, sigh and groan still ? amidst their drowsy hearers, 
 and too drowsy fruitless labours ? But I envy thee not ; and 
 those that are dearest and nearest to thee owe thee so much as to 
 rejoice in thy joy, while they cannot as yet in their own. Thou 
 art upon my heart, if God saw it good, to live and die with thee. 
 This day se'nnight thy worthy brother B. and my brother F. 
 dined with me, when thou wast most affectionately remembered ; 
 but art no day forgotten, by thy sincere lover, and of all thine, 
 hoping and aiming (though faintly) to be thy follower, J. Howe. 
 If there be joy in heaven for a converted sinner, shall there not 
 for a glorified saint ! and the leader and teacher of many such ! 
 some that are in glory, and others that shall shortly be ! O the 
 triumph at thy abmidant entrance !" That " abundant entrance" 
 was granted in about three months afterwards. 
 
 Mr Howe's seventieth year (1699) produced his " Redeemer's 
 Dominion over the Invisible World." The sublime subject ac- 
 corded with his taste. It was also in keeping with his circum- 
 stiinces ; for the friends of his youth and companions of his toils 
 and sufferings, Bates and Mead, and Baxter and Adams, and 
 
Xlii LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 others — were fast disappearing from around him and entering 
 that world ; and he was himself approaching upon its confines. 
 But the immediate occasion of the discourse was the death of a 
 most lovely and promising youth, the eldest son of Sir Charles 
 and Lady Houghton. The dedication of it has been already 
 quoted. Of the admirable piece itself, Professor Rogers says 
 truly, "as it was one of the last, so it is one of the richest and ma- 
 turest fruits of our author's genius." As if to leave behind him 
 another and condensed testimony on themes that are the instru- 
 ments of awakening and salvation to the race, in 1701 he gave 
 forth his " Discourses on Man's Enmity against God and Recon- 
 ciliation to Him ;" these are introduced last in the present vo- 
 lume. As if to clear off arrears before he bade us adieu, in 1702 
 he published the " Second Part" of his " Living Temple," refer- 
 ring to his sermons on " Self -dedication," as appropriately com- 
 pleting what he had contemplated in preparing the foi*mer work. 
 To the last, however, the press wanted not employment from his 
 pen. Late in 1 702, appeared his funeral-sermon for the Rev. 
 Peter Vink, who died at Hackney in September. It is founded 
 on Acts v. 20, and begins, " The present speaker in this text is 
 an angel of God ; one of those blessed spirits from among the 
 principalities and powers in heavenly places, who greatly delight 
 (as you have lately heard, and I hope are, God willing, farther 
 to hear) to be concerned about the affairs of God's Church on 
 earth." A note at foot of the page says, " Having a discourse in 
 hand about this time, on Ephesians iii. 10. To the intent that 
 now unto the principalities," &c. Can this " discourse," or any 
 memorials of it, be possibly found ? What a subject for Hotce ! 
 His sermon on "• Deliverance from the Power of Darkness," was 
 preached November 5, 1703, Mr Howe being then in his sere«^^- 
 fourth year. 
 
 At length, in the spring of 1705, came out his last publication, 
 a treatise on " Patience in Expectation of Future Blessedness." 
 He had preached from the text, Hebrews x. 36, some time be- 
 fore, on the death of Dr Henry Sampson, who had been a mem- 
 ber of his church for thirty years. In an Appendix, giving " some 
 memorial" of this friend, he mentions, "■ my own long languisb- 
 ings," and " God affording me, at length, some respiration from 
 the extremity of those painful distempers that had long afflicted 
 me." The " respiration" was very temporary. The " spirit" 
 retained all its vitality and strength unimpaired ; it was <" fat 
 and flourishing." But the " flesh" had been long labouring un- 
 der infirmity ; as the. reader has observed, it had been more than 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. xliii 
 
 once tottering ; and now it rapidly gave way. " The earthly 
 house of this tabernacle," was to be " dissolved," and exchanged 
 for a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in 
 the heavens." But before we go to see him die, we will retrace 
 our steps a little, to notice an instance or two of the foretastes 
 that had been granted him of the joy on which he was about 
 to enter. 
 
 Rarely has there existed such a combination of great devo- 
 tional susceptibility with great intellectual power, as in the case 
 of JMr Howe. This may be gathered from his writings, which 
 abound with bursts of hallowed fervour. And other evidence is 
 at hand. On the fly-leaf of his study Bible were found, after his 
 death, some memoranda in Latin, which have been thus trans- 
 lated : — " Dec. 26, '89. After that I had long seriously and re- 
 peatedly thought with myself, that besides a full and undoubted 
 assent to the objects of faith, a vivifying savoury taste and 
 relish of them was also necessary, that with st; onger force and 
 more powerful energy, they might penetrate into the most in- 
 ward centre of my heart, and there being most deeply fixed and 
 rooted, govern my Hfe ; and that there could be no other sure 
 gi'ound whereon to conclude and pass a sound judgment on my 
 good state Godward ; and after I had in my course of preaching 
 been largely insisting on 2 Cor. i. 12; this very morning I awoke 
 out of a most ravishing and delightful dream, that a wonderful 
 and copious stream of celestial rays, from the lofty throne of the 
 divine majesty, seemed to dart into my expanded breast. 1 have 
 often since, with great complacency, reflected on that very signal 
 pledge of special divine favour vouchsafed to me on that memo- 
 rable day, and have with repeated fresh pleasure tasted the de- 
 lights thereof. But what on Oct. 22, 1704, of the same kind I 
 sensibly felt, through the admirable bounty of my God and the 
 most pleasant comforting influence of the Holy Spirit, far sur- 
 passed the most expressive words my thoughts can suggest. I 
 then experienced an inexpressibly pleasant melting of heart; tears 
 gu.shing out of mine eyes, for joy that God should shed abroad 
 his love abundantly through the hearts of men, and that for thi.s 
 very purpose my own should be so signally possessed of and by 
 his blessed Spirit, Rom. v. 5." In addition to these private me- 
 moranda of matters which were at the time secret within his own 
 breast, it was observed that in his la.st illness, and wln-n he had 
 been declining for some time, he was once in a " most affecting, 
 melting, heavenly frame," when administering the Lord's Sup- 
 per, and was carried out into " such a ravishing and transport- 
 
Xliv LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 ing celebration of the love of Christ, that both he himself and 
 the communicants were apprehensive he would have expired in 
 that very service." 
 
 Having these facts before us, in addition to what we had pre- 
 viously learned respecting Mr Howe, we are prepared for what 
 his biographer, Dr C^lamy, further states of him — that " he 
 discovered no fear of dying, but even when his end drew near, 
 was very serene and calm," — that "he seemed indeed sometimes 
 to have been got to heaven, even before he had laid aside that 
 mortality which he had been long expecting to have swallowed 
 up of life," — and, that " though nature was considerably spent 
 in him, yet was there somewhat even in the manner of his dying 
 that was remarkable and worthy of observation." We must 
 not lay too much stress upon what is called " dying experience." 
 Had Howe's been the opposite of what it was, our assurance of 
 his salvation — our respect for his Christian excellence — our ad- 
 miration of the grace of God in the moral greatness of his cha- 
 racter, would have been in no degree diminished. The last 
 hours of some men, eminent in piety and usefulness, as they 
 were in talents and labours through life, have been overcast 
 with gloom that prevented bystanders from recognising the glo- 
 ries of their departure. But the orb setting behind a bank of 
 dense black clouds, is himself far beyond their reach. They af- 
 fect not his brightness, but merely our view of it. While to us. 
 he seems to sink in darkness that extinguishes his beams, he is 
 really rising in other skies gladdening the sight of other observ- 
 ers, and clothed in splendours as if the Almighty had afresh, or 
 for the first time, robed him in the reflection of his own divine 
 effulgence. " We walk by faith, not by sight ;" and when a 
 man's life has testified that his heart is right with Christy we 
 know that his safetj/ for glorification is in Christ's hands, though 
 his enemies be in malice loading him with anathemas, or he, by 
 morbid influence from what is animal on what is mental, be 
 writing volumes of bitter things against himself, at the crisis of 
 his leaving the body. Still, a cloudless sunset is pleasant to 
 witness, though in its eff'ects on nature quite secondary to a 
 cloudless day. And such a sunset was John Howe's. 
 
 We are told that, during his last sickness, he was visited by 
 many of all ranks, and that he conversed very pleasantly with 
 them. Among others was Richard Cromwell, who was now 
 grown old, and had lived many years in retirement from the 
 world since the time when he was Protector of England's Com- 
 "Tionwealth, and Howe was his domestic chaplain. The inter- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. xlv 
 
 view was deeply affecting. Both parties in it held the same 
 faith, cherished the same hope, and were inspired with the same 
 love. " There was a great deal of serious discourse between 
 them. Tears were shed freely on both sides, and the parting 
 was very solemn." " Many elder and younger ministers also 
 frequently visited him, and he was very free in his discourse 
 with them, and talked like one of another world, and that had 
 raised uncommon hopes of that blessedness there which his heart 
 had long been set upon." 
 
 One morning, finding himself much better than could have 
 been expected after the severe pain he had endured the preced- 
 ing evening, he became quite cheerful. An attendant noticed 
 it ; on which he said, that " he was for feeling that he was 
 alire, though most willing to die, and lay the clog of mortality 
 aside." He once told INIrs Howe that " though he thought he 
 loved her as well as it was fit for one creature to love another, 
 yet if it were put to his choice, whether to die that moment, or 
 to live that night, and the living that night would secure the 
 continuance of his life for seven years to come, he would choose 
 to die that moment." Great as he was accounted by others, he 
 had no dependence but on Christ ; — " I expect," said he, " my 
 salvation, not as a profitable servant, but as a pardoned sinner." 
 Shortly before his dissolution a change took place which raised 
 the hopes of his friends. Probably it was during this partial re- 
 vival, that he laid on his son the command to destroy his " me- 
 morials." The change was of brief dui*ation. On Thursday, 
 March ■29th, it was certain that his end was near ; and on the 
 following Monday, April 2, 1 705, " being quite worn out," he 
 expired. 
 
 Thus died John Howe ! — thus, with a composure that became 
 his sanctified, majestic soul, confiding in " the First and the 
 Last and the Living One, who has the keys of Hades and of 
 Death," did this honoured servant, at his Master's bidding, lay 
 down his earthly charge, and rise to receive the " Well-done," 
 which sovereign mercy, through the Cross in which he gloried, 
 had prepared to compensate and crown for ever his watchful, 
 toilsome, suffering, faithful stewardship below. 
 
 His funeral-sermon was preached the following Lord's-day to 
 his bereaved family and people, by his colleague in the ministry, 
 the Rev, John Spademan, from 2 Tim. iii. 14 ; ''Continue thou 
 in the things which thou hast learned, and hast been assured of, 
 knowing of whom thou hast learned them." From an expres- 
 sion towards the commencement of the discourse, it appears that 
 
Xlvi LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 the meeting-house was hung in black, and that a large number 
 of the hearers had put on mourning, in token of respect for the 
 deceased, and of grief at his removal. 
 
 In the outset of his " Discourse on the Redeemer's Dominion 
 over the Invisible World," occasioned by the death of young 
 Houghton, Mr Howe throws out a gem from his exuberant store, 
 as he often did almost unconsciously, and in a way not likely to 
 be observed. He says, " I am now to take notice to you of 
 (what most would call) the premature or untimely death of a 
 most hopeful young gentleman, the heir of a very considerable 
 family, greatly prepared by parts and pious sentiments ; and 
 fiu'ther preparing by study and conversation, to be useful to the 
 age, cut off in his prime, when the mere shewing of him to the 
 world had begun to raise an expectation, in such as knew him, 
 of somewhat more than ordinary hereafter from him." In a 
 foot-note he appends the scrap — ^ Ostendunt terris hunc tantum, 
 fata nee ultra esse sinunt" — rendered by Mr Hunt, " The gods 
 have just shewn him to the world, and permitted him to be seen 
 no more." The late Rev. Robert Hall, an enthusiastic admirer 
 of Howe, introduces the same allusion in his beautiful notice of 
 the Rev. Thomas Spencer of Liverpool, who was drowned in the 
 !Mersey, upwards of thirty years ago, having just commenced a 
 ministry of astonishing power. The notice is subjoined to a 
 " Discourse on the Discouragements and Supports of the Chris- 
 tian Ministry." By Howe the gem is simply let fall for the 
 reader to pick up, look at, and make his own, if he will. By 
 Mr Hall, attention is called to it, and it is most gracefully pre- 
 sented in a rich and complete setting. " The unqualified admi- 
 ration he excited while living, and the deep and universal con- 
 cern expressed at his death, demonstrate him to have been no 
 ordinary character ; but one of those rare specimens of luiman 
 nature, which the Great Author of it produces at distant inter- 
 vals, and exhibits for a moment, while he hastens to make them 
 up among his jewels. The high hopes entertained of this admir- 
 able youth, and the shock approaching to consternation, occa- 
 sioned by his death, will probably remind the classical reader 
 of the inimitable lines of Virgil on Marcellus — 
 " O nate, ingentem luctum ne quere tuorum. 
 
 Ostendent terris hunc tantum fata, neque ultra 
 
 Esse sinent." 
 We stay not to remark on this coincidence as indicating the 
 
LIFE OF JOUN UOWE, A.M. xlvii 
 
 different character of the two great men. Happily, Howe him- 
 self was not merely " the blissful vision of a day" — a youth that 
 should "just be shown on earth, and snatched away." This 
 ^ rare specimen of human nature" — far transcending tlie son of 
 Octavia, or young Houghton, or even our own Spencer — was not 
 exhibited *' for a moment" only. Through a range of threescore 
 und fifteen years, Providence was " shewing" him in positions, 
 aspects, lights, associations, endlessly varied ; as if to give oppoi'- 
 tunity for his being thoroughly examined — studied in detail ; and 
 the results preserved to interest and edify posterity. And rarely 
 has a character appeared more worthy of being made a *' study." 
 Like a production on which a master of the pencil or the chisel 
 had outdone himself, at first view there may be little noticed that 
 is peculiar ; but by degrees, if the observer have capacity, an 
 awakening, an enlargement, an outgoing occurs within him, till 
 at length his soul is spread forth and transfixed in admiration 
 upon the object ; so will it be found in looking at John Howe. 
 True, he was of a depraved race, in common with ourselves ; 
 nor was ever one more ready to acknowledge it than he. But — 
 to take a hint from a passage of sublime thought, which few, or 
 no one but himself, of ordinary mortals, could have penned — 
 though every piece of humanity be a ruin-fragment of a sanc- 
 tuary, John Howe was not a common block of stone, that told not 
 of itself to what it once belonged ; — he was rather a noble 
 column yet left standing, or again upreared, with its graceful 
 Doric or rich Corinthian capital, enabling us to judge how 
 glorious the edifice must have been before it was, for sin, aban- 
 doned to desolation by its God. 
 
 While the inspired statement is true in the fact which it 
 regards, that " there is no difference, for all have sinned and 
 come short of the glory of God," it is seen, felt, acknowledged, 
 that in other i-espects there are differences among men, previous 
 to that made by forgiving and regenerating grace. There are 
 natural varieties of constitution, temperament, disposition, intel- 
 lect, taste. Some men are naturally vain, rash, feeble, incon- 
 stant, mean, selfish, crafty, rough ; others naturally modest, 
 prudent, energetic, dignified, generous, steady, straightforward, 
 bland. These opposite quahties are found variously combined. 
 The differences referred to, from whatever causes they arise, do 
 not altogether disappear, even under the power of tlie Divine 
 Spirit, while we are in the body. Sufficient allowance is often 
 not made for them in judging of the reality of conversion ; nor, 
 on the other hand, do we always apply with becoming care, by 
 seif-discipline to mortify what is evil, and encourage what is 
 
Xlviii LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 good, in our constitutional peculiarities. It is questionable whether 
 due attention has ordinarily been paid to them in admitting can- 
 didates for the ministry. Greatness of "natural character," 
 under certain forms, in Saul of Tarsus, no doubt had much to 
 do with the Apostle Paul's greatness in the Gospel. There is a 
 nobility to be derived from ancestry, that depends not on titles 
 or estates, and which is incomparably more precious than both — 
 a nobility which peers and princes may be wanting in, while 
 peasantry, and even slaves, may have it — a nobility inherent 
 rather than inherited. And in this, the highest nobility apart 
 from grace — this tvyima of Actsxvii. 11 — John Howe was rich 
 indeed. 
 
 But whatever combinations of grandeur, strength, and good- 
 ness may have existed in Mr Howe's natural character, we must 
 not ascribe altogether to it the majestic capacity and benignity 
 which his portrait exhibits enthroned in an unrivalled covmte- 
 nance. The full and advantageous development of inherent de- 
 sirable properties depends much on the range given for their 
 exercise, and on the influences that affect them. Mr Howe was 
 not so remarkable for the predominance of any one faculty, as 
 for the admirable manifestation, balancing and blending, of all 
 the constituents of a great man. He would have excelled in any 
 sphere that gave scope for thought. But when, by his " very 
 early and growing exemplary piety," his intellect was brought to 
 exercise itself on the sublime doctrines of revelation — the 
 grandest range for human or angelic powers — it came to occupy 
 a sphere that afforded room for putting forth all his might of 
 mind. And when, by the same " very early and growing exem- 
 plary piety," his heart became constantly wrought on by those 
 stupendous, sacred, and quickening verities, as the spring, and 
 food, and mould, of its dispositions arid activities, his soul acquired 
 a vitality and sanctity, a serenity and expansion, an earnestness 
 and lofty bearing, that lifted her far above her former self, and 
 gave her a measure of fellowship, in tone and habit, with spirits 
 within the vail. The mutual action and reaction in him of the 
 natural and the acquired, the mental and the moral, the inter- 
 nal and the external, sustained by watchfulness and prayer, 
 daily added to the enlargement, the eievation, and the strength 
 of his intellect and his heart. No one has described the process 
 here referred to, of vision inducing assimilation and assimilation 
 improving vision, more rationally and beautifully than Mr Howe. 
 And he was himself a living illustration of what he so well 
 described. 
 
 Few, if any, uninspired men have equalled him in what mav 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. xlix 
 
 be called a, philosophic knowledge of Christianity, understanding 
 thereby an extensive and harmonized acquaintance with the facts 
 it embraces, derived from a diligent and impartial examination 
 of the divine testimony which reveals it. His exposition of the 
 text of his " Discourse on Union among Protestants," is an 
 instance how minutely and thoroughly he could trace out and 
 gather up the whole amount of sentiment that lay before him on 
 the sacred page. His love of truth and grace, and his faith in 
 the Scriptures as the oracles of God, prepared him to go the full 
 length of whatever they declared to be fact. Nearly all his 
 writings show how a single text, lodged for growth in his mind, 
 would unfold till it became a stately tree, covered with foliage 
 and fruit. Yet he was not for taking an insulated passage, and 
 by reasoning upon the principle it affirmed, or was thought to 
 affirm, frame thereon a system which, peradventure, would 
 require him, for consistency's sake, to put forced and unnatural 
 constructions upon other passages — a habit that has done more 
 than a little to encourage false doctrine and sectarianism. His 
 endeavour was to know all that God had taught, and he believed 
 it because God had taught it. Hence he could fearlessly assert 
 the sovereignty of Divine mercy, claiming the whole glory of salva- 
 tion, in all its parts and stages, for Him, " of whom, and to whom, 
 and through whom, are all things ;" — and yet he could press every 
 conceivable form of appeal that could instruct, awaken, humble, 
 or win, upon the unconverted, as if the responsibility of their 
 salvation rested altogether with themselves. He would not 
 allow it " to be thought the holy God will ever so alter the course 
 of his own proceedings, but that it shall finally be seen by all the 
 world, that every man's destruction was, entirely, and to the last, 
 of himself ;" and yet, in the same address, he would exclaim, 
 " Lord ! how generally do the Christians of our age deceive 
 themselves with a self-sprung religion ! Divine, indeed, in the 
 institution, but merely human in respect of the radication and 
 exercise ; in which respects, also, it must be Divine or nothing. 
 What ! are we yet to learn, that a Divine power must work and 
 form our religion in us, as well as Divine authority direct and 
 enjoin it ? Do all such Scriptures go for nothing, that tell us it 
 is God that must create the new heart," &c. No man ever 
 descended lower in searching the depths of human depravity, to 
 bring out, for exposure and conviction, the innate inveterate 
 enmity and atheism of our nature; yet no man has risen higher 
 in contemplating the fruition attained by the spirits of just men 
 made perfect, to inform and encourage the redeemed sinner in 
 d 
 
1 LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 his path-way to that glory. Howe held and taught both the pre- 
 destination and the justification of grace, together with the 
 agency of the Divine Spirit in the new birth and the believer's 
 life ; and yet he inculcated the details of practical piety, and 
 failed not to present every truth, and every text, in its power on 
 the inward and outward character. But Immanuel was the 
 theme on which his soul kindled, and appeared like the " angel 
 standing in the sun." Immanuel — the Manifestation of Deity — 
 the Maker and Lord of the universe — the Expiation for our 
 guilt — the Administrator of redemption — the Hope of trans- 
 gressors — the Life of the dead — the King of Zion — the Fountain of 
 all benediction — the Author, Pattern, and Pledge of His people's 
 glorification — this, this was with Howe the one grand subject in 
 connexion with which he made all his great movements, and 
 which gave light and vitahty, grace and grandeur, to every 
 movement that he made. 
 
 Fault has been found with him as too argumentative and 
 metaphysical. Similar complaints have been made of the apostle 
 Paul. They come from persons who like not to exercise the 
 mind upon religion — persons who care not to think, in order to 
 believe ; who wish for edification, without the trouble of getting 
 information ; who prize feeling, more than judgment ; who are 
 ruled by impulses, not evidence. " Dryness" is one of the last 
 things that can fairly be charged upon Howe ; his statements^- 
 even his minute explanations — breathe life and freshness. More 
 generally, however, and more justly, have objections been made 
 to his style. Nor, surely, can it be taken as a model. He never 
 made composition a study ; it was not the habit of his age to do 
 so. John Howe and Robert Hall have been placed in juxta- 
 position a few pages ago. One almost covets for Howe's thoughts, 
 the advantageous polish and dressing which Mr Hall, without 
 effort, gave to his. Yet it is questionable whether they might 
 not thereby have lost somewhat of their massiveness, condensa- 
 tion, and pungency. But be that as it may, Howe's style served 
 for his time. Wood praises it. And Howe's thoughts are, for 
 the most part, diamonds, that can owe little of their preciousness 
 to the art and toil of the lapidary. 
 
 He was considered a " great preacher ;" and deservedly, if 
 abundance of matter, given out with hallowed earnestness, and 
 addressed to the understanding and the heart, entitles a man to 
 be so accounted. To what is called " oratory" he made no pre- 
 tence. His was the eloquence of sou/, more than of words ; and 
 that he had in an eminent degree. If instruction, reasoning, ex- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. ll 
 
 postulation, or living pathos, be adapted to commend the truth 
 to the hearer's conscience, one can readily imagine how his ser- 
 mons would tell upon an auditory. And it speaks well for the 
 congregations of his day, that they could appreciate and enjoy a 
 ministry of so much sterling intellectual and christian worth. He 
 frequently delivered a succession of sermons, directed fully to 
 expound a subject. His ordinary plan with insulated discourses, 
 was to expound the text, catching up its own points, imbibing its 
 animus or that of the truth as in it presented, and then to place 
 the whole before his audience with various applications, so as to 
 make the hearers feel that it was the text, or rather the Spirit in 
 the text, and not Howe himself, that was addressing them. This 
 habit gave to his preaching depth, fulness, savour, authority, and 
 variety without end, which even his could never otherwise have 
 acquired. And the habit was likely to impress his people with a 
 sense of the inexhaustible riches of the sacred volume itself, 
 whence as they were made to see, he brought the profusion that 
 he produced ; while his laying open to them frequently the analy- 
 sing process by which he obtained what he supplied, gave the 
 hearers to know that he was drawing for their benefit, not on the 
 accumulations of his own mind, but on the resources of One that 
 is divine. This, however, is a habit of ministry not to be attained 
 by imbecile, or indolent, or superficial, or merely excitable men. 
 Mr Howe was the " minister of God" every where. He never 
 laid aside his character in that respect. Several anecdotes are 
 related of rebukes he gave, even to persons of rank. Swearing 
 was, after the Commonwealth, much more general in the upper 
 cii'cles than it is at present. When he was once at table with a 
 respectable company, a gentleman, while eulogizing Charles I., 
 indulged in many profane expressions. Howe, observing it, 
 quietly remarked, " That in his enumeration of the excellencies 
 of that prince he had totally omitted one^ which had been uni- 
 versally and justly ascribed to him." The gentleman, well pleased 
 to find that Mr Howe was in any degree an admirer of Charles^ 
 was eager to know " what was the excellence which had escaped 
 him." Howe suffered him to press some time for the informa- 
 tion, and then told him, " that Charles was never known to swear 
 an oath in his common conversation." The gentleman bore the 
 reproof well, and promised to abandon the habit in future. At 
 another time, as he was passing along the street, he came up 
 with two respectable men, engaged in an angry dispute, and he 
 overheard them '•* damn" each other. Mr Howe taking off his 
 hat bowed to them most courteously, and said, " I pray God save 
 
lii LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. 
 
 you both." The parties forgot their anger, and joined in thank- 
 ing him. While the Bill against occasional conformity was un- 
 der debate in Parliament, not long before his death, as Mr 
 Howe was one day walking in St. James's Park, a noble lord, to 
 whom he was well known, sent his footman to say he desired to 
 speak with him. When he came up, his lordship saluted him 
 with much cordiality, entered into conversation respecting the 
 Bill, which he assured Mr. Howe he had opposed to the utmost 
 of his power. The " noble Lord" became warm, and at length 
 said, " D — n those wretches for they are mad, and will bring us 
 all into confusion." Howe calmly replied, " My Lord, 'tis a 
 great satisfaction to us, who, in all affairs of this nature, desire 
 to look upwards, that thei'e is a God that governs the world, to 
 whom we can leave the issues and events of things : and we are 
 satisfied, and may thereupon be easy, that he will not fail in due 
 time of making a suitable retribution to all, according to their 
 present carriage. And this Great Ruler of the world, my Lord, 
 has among other things also declared that He will make a differ- 
 ence between him that siceareth, and him that feareth an oath.'* 
 His lordship was struck with Howe's remarks, and after a pause 
 said, *' Sir, I thank you for your freedom ; I understand your 
 meaning ; I shall endeavour to make a good use of it." Howe 
 replied, " My lord, I have a great deal more reason to thank your 
 lordship, for saving me the most difiicult part of a discourse, 
 which is the application.^' 
 
 It is hardly possible to conceive of a man, in the present state 
 of infirmity, who was more thoroughly imbued with the genius 
 of the Gospel, as " the spirit of power, and of love, and of a 
 sound mind." His "power" was great — for withstanding, for 
 enduring, for performing. His " love " was genuine, evangeli- 
 cal, universal, self-sacrificing, constant ; the counterpart of 
 Heaven's mercy wrought in him through his believing and spi- 
 ritual contemplation of itself. His ministry and character were 
 a comment on the words, " We have known and believed the 
 love which God hath toward us ; God is love, and he that dwell- 
 eth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him." And he was not 
 less distinguished for his " sound mind ;" in proportion as his 
 love abounded, it abounded " in knowledge and in all judg- 
 ment." 
 
 He " walked with God" on earth. He now " walks with God" 
 in heaven. A minister, yet living, some years since had a dream 
 He thought he was in glory, associating with Owen, and Flavel, 
 and Charnock, and others, among whom was Howe. His heart 
 
LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, A.M. llH 
 
 swelled with pleasure and thankfulness, in the consciousness of 
 the free fellowship he was now to have with these already per- 
 fected worthies. His emotions for the time were only second to 
 those produced by the sense he had of his own safety, and of the 
 presence and favour of his and their Lord. He awoke — and 
 " behold, it teas a dream .'" — May the writer and the reader of 
 these lines come at length to the far transcending reality, which 
 the dream, however prompted, so humbly and evanescently 
 pourtrayed ! — " Beloved, now are we the sons of God ; and 
 
 IT DOTH NOT YET APPEAR WHAT WE SHALL BE, BUT WE KNOW THAT 
 WHEN He shall appear we SHALL BE LIKE HiM, FOB WE SHALL 
 
 SEE Him as He is." 
 
REDEEMEE'S TEARS 
 
 WEPT OVER LOST SOULS; 
 
 A. TRBATISK ON LUKB zix. 41, 42 : 
 WITH 
 
 AN APPENDIX, 
 
 Wherein somewhat is occasionally discoursed, concerning the hlaaphemy against 
 the Holy Ghost, and hntv God is snid to will the salvation of them that perish. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 When spiritual judgments do more eminently befall a 
 people great outward calamities do often ensue. We know 
 it was so in the instance which the text here insisted on 
 refers to. But it is not always so ; the connexion between 
 these two sorts of judgments is not absolutely certain and 
 necessar}^, yea, and, is more frequent with the contraries of 
 each. For this reason therefore, and because judgments of 
 the former kind are so inexpressibly greater and more 
 tremendous, this discourse insists only upon them, about 
 which serious monitions both have a clearer ground, and 
 are of greater importance ; and wholly waives the latter. 
 
 Too many are apt, first to fancy similitudes between the 
 state of things with one people and another, and then to 
 draw inferences ; being perhaps imposed on by a strong 
 imagination in both ; which yet must pass with them for a 
 spirit of prophecy, and perhaps they take it not well, if it 
 do not so with others too. It w^re indeed the work of 
 another prophet certainly to accommodate and make appli- 
 cation of what was spoken by a former to a distinct time 
 and people. 'Tis enough for us to learn from such sayings 
 as this of our Saviour, those rules of life and practice, such 
 instruction and cautions as are common to all times, with- 
 out arrogating to ourselves his prerogative, of foretelling 
 events that shall happen in this or that. The affectation 
 of venturing upon futurity, and foreboding direful things 
 to kingdoms and nations, may, besides its being without 
 sufficient ground, proceed from some one or other very bad 
 principle. Dislike of the present methods of Providence, 
 
weariness and impatiency of our present condition, too great 
 proneness to wish what we take upon us to predict, the 
 prediction importing more heat of anger than certainty of 
 foresight, a wrathful spirit, that would presently fetch 
 down fire from heaven upon such as favour not our incli- 
 nations and desires, so that (as the poet speaks) whole cities 
 should be overturned at our request, if the heavenly powers 
 would be so easy, as to comply with such furious impreca- 
 tions : a temper that ill agrees with humanity itself, not to 
 care at what rate of common calamity and misery a pur- 
 chase be made of our own immunity from sufferings. Nay, 
 to be willing to run the most desperate hazard in the case, 
 and even covet a general ruin to others, upon a mere appre- 
 hended possibility that our case may be mended by it ; 
 when it may be more probable to become much worse. 
 But how disagreeable is it to the Spirit of our merciful 
 Lord and Saviour, whose name we bear, upon any terms to 
 delight in human miseries ! The greatest honour men of 
 that complexion are capable of doing the Christian name, 
 were to disclaim it. Can such angry heats have place in 
 Christian breasts, as shall render them the well-pleased 
 spectators, yea authors, of one another's calamities and ruin ? 
 Can the tears that issued from these compassionate, blessed 
 eyes, upon the foresight of Jerusalem's woful catastrophe, 
 do nothing towards the quenching of these flames ? 
 
 But I add, that the too intent fixing of our thoughts 
 upon any supposable events in this world, argues, at least, 
 a narrow, carnal mind, that draws and gathers all things 
 into time, as despairing of eternity ; and reckons no better 
 state of things considerable, that is not to be brought about 
 under their own present view, in this world ; as if it were 
 uncertain or insignificant, that there shall be unexception- 
 able, eternal order and rectitude in another, 
 
 'Tis again as groundless, and may argue as ill a mind, to 
 prophesy smooth and pleasant things, in a time of abound- 
 ing wickedness. The safer, middle course, is, without God's 
 express warrant, not to prophesy at all, but as we have 
 opportunity, to warn and instruct men, with all meekness 
 
PREFACE. 6 
 
 and long-suffering ; for which the Lord's ordinary messengers 
 can never want his warrant. And, after our blessed Saviour's 
 most imitable example, to scatter our tears over the impeni- 
 tent, even upon the (too probable) apprehension of the tem- 
 poral judgments which hang over their heads, but most of 
 all upon the account of their liableness to the more dreadful 
 ones of the other state ; which in the following discom-se, 
 I hope, it is made competently evident, this lamentation of 
 our Saviour hath ultimate reference unto. For the other, 
 though we know them to be due, and most highly deserved ; 
 yet concerning the actual infliction of them, even upon 
 obstinate and persevering sinners, we cannot pronounce. 
 We have no settled constitution, or rule, by which we can 
 conclude it, any more than that outward felicity, or pro- 
 sperity, shall be the constant portion of good men in tkis 
 world. The great God hath reserved to himself a latitude 
 of acting more arbitrarily, both as to promises and threat- 
 enings of this nature. If the accomplishment of either 
 could be certainly expected, it should be of the promises 
 rather ; because as to promised rewards God is pleased to 
 make liimself debtor, and a right accrues to them to whom 
 the promise is made, if either the promise be absolute, or 
 made with any certain condition, that is actually performed. 
 But God is always the creditor poence, the right to punish 
 remains wholly in himself, the exacting whereof he may 
 therefore suspend, without any appearance of wrong, as 
 seemeth good unto him. If, therefore, he may withhold 
 temporal blessings from good and pious men, to which they 
 have a remote and fundamental right, as having reserved to 
 himself the judgment of the fit time and season of bestowing 
 them ; much more doth it belong to his wisdom, to fix the 
 bounds of his patience and long-suffering ; and determine 
 the season of animadverting upon more open and insolent 
 offenders by temporal punishments, according as shall make 
 most for the ends of his government, and finally prove more 
 advantageous to the dignity and glory of it. The practice, 
 therefore, of our Saviour, in speaking so positively con- 
 cerning the approaching fall and ruin of Jerusalem, is no 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 pattern unto ns. He spake not only with the knowledge 
 of a prophet, but with the authority of a judge : and his 
 words may be considered both as a prediction and a sen- 
 tence. We can pretend to speak in neither capacity touch- 
 ing things of this nature. 
 
 But for the everlasting punishments in another world, 
 that belong to unreconciled sinners, who refuse to know the 
 things of their peace, the gospel-constitution hath made the 
 connexion firm and unalterable, between their continuing, 
 unrepented wickedness, and those punishments. When, 
 therefore, we behold the impudent, provoking sins of the 
 age wherein we live, against the natural law of our Creator, 
 persisted in with all the marks of infidelity and obduration 
 against the truth and grace that so gloriously shine forth 
 in the gospel of our Redeemer, we may (after him) speak 
 positively. He that believeth not shall be damned — is con- 
 demned already ; shall not see life, but the wrath of God 
 abideth on him. If ye believe not that I am He, ye shall 
 die in your sins. Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise 
 perish. And here, how doth it become us too, in conformity 
 to his great example, to speak compassionately, and as 
 those that, in some measure, know the terror of the Lord ! 
 how doleful is the case, when we consider the incon- 
 sistent notions of many, with, not this or that particular 
 doctrine, or article of the Christian faith, but with the whole 
 sum of Christianity, the atheism of some, the avowed mere 
 theism of others ! The former sort far outdoing the Jewish 
 infidelity. Which people, besides the rational means of 
 demonstrating a Deity common to them with the rest of 
 mankind, could, upon the account of many things peculiar 
 to themselves, be in no suspense concerning this matter. 
 How great was their reverence of the books of the Old 
 Testament, especially those of Moses ! their knowledge most 
 certain of plain, and most convincing matter of fact. How 
 long the government of their nation had been an imme- 
 diate theocracy ! what evident tokens of the divine presence 
 had been among them from age to age ! in how wonder- 
 ful a manner they were brought out of Egypt, through the 
 
Red sea, and conducted all along through the wilderness ! 
 how glorious an appearance and manifestation of himself 
 God afforded to them at the giving of the law, upon mount 
 Sinai ! and by how apparent exertions of the divine power 
 the former inhabitants were expelled, and they settled in 
 the promised land ! Upon all this they could be in no 
 more doubt concerning the existence of a Deity, than of the 
 sun in the firmament. Whereas we are put to prove, in a 
 Christian nation, that this world, and its continual successive 
 inhabitants, have a wise intelligent Maker and Lord, and 
 that all things came not into the state wherein they are, by 
 (no man can imagine what) either fatal necessity or 
 casualty. 
 
 But both sorts agree in (what I would principally remark) 
 the disbelief of Christ being the Messiah. And so, with 
 both, the whole business of Christianity must be a fable 
 and a cheat. And thus it is determined, not by men that 
 have made it their business to consider and examine the 
 matter (for the plain evidence of things cannot but even 
 obtrude a conviction upon any diligent inquirer), but by 
 such as have only resolved to consider ; who have before- 
 hand settled their purpose, never to be awed by the appre- 
 hension of an invisible Ruler, into any course of life that 
 shall bear hard upon sensual inclination, have already chosen 
 their master, enslaved themselves to brutal appetite, and are 
 60 habituated to that mean servility, made it so connatural, 
 so deeply inward to themselves, so much their very life, as 
 that through the pre-apprehended pain and uneasiness of a 
 violent rupture, in tearing themselves from themselves, it 
 is become their interest not to admit any serious thought. 
 Any such thought they are concerned (they reckon) to 
 fence against, as against the point of a sword ; it strikes at 
 their only life, the brute must die, that (by a happy rrakty- 
 yivricia) they may be again born men. That is the design 
 of Christianity, to restore men to themselves again ; and 
 because it hath this tendency, it is therefore not to be 
 endured. And all the little residue of human wit which 
 is yet left them (which because the sensual nature is predo- 
 
minant, is pressed into a subserviency to the interest and 
 defence of a brutal life), only serves them to turn every 
 thing of serious religion into ridicule, and being themselves 
 resolved never to be reasoned into any seriousness, they 
 have the confidence to make the trial, whether all other 
 men can be j.ested out of it. 
 
 If this were not the case, if such persons could allow 
 themselves to think and debate the matter, how certain 
 would the victory, how glorious would the triumph be, of 
 the Christian religion over all the little cavils they are wont 
 to allege against it ! Let their own consciences testify in 
 the case, whether ever they have applied themselves to any 
 solemn disquisition concerning this important affair, but 
 only contented themselves with being able, amidst transient 
 discourse, to cast out, now and then, some oblique glance, 
 against somewhat or other that was appendant, or more 
 remotely belonging, to the Christian profession (in so much 
 haste as not to stay for an answer), and because they may 
 have surprised, sometimes, one or other, not so ready at a 
 quick repartee, or who reckoned the matter to require 
 solemn and somewhat larger discourse (which they have 
 not had the patience to hear), whether they have not gone 
 away puffed and swollen with the conceit, that they have 
 whiffled Christianity away, quite off the stage, with their 
 profane breath ; as if its firm and solid strength, wherein 
 it stands stable, as a rock of adamant, depended upon this 
 or that sudden, occasional, momentary effort on the behalf 
 of it. But if such have a mind to try whether any thing 
 can be strongly said in defence of that sacred profession, 
 let them considerately peruse what hath been written by 
 divers to that purpose. And not to engage them in any 
 very tedious longsome task, if they like not to travel through 
 the somewhat abstruser work of the most learned Hugo 
 Grotius, De Veritate Christiance Religionis, or the more 
 voluminous Huetius, his Demonstratio Evangelica^ or divers 
 others that m»ight be named, let them but patiently and 
 leisurely read over that later very plain and clear, but 
 nervous and solid, discourse of Dr Parker, upon this sub- 
 
PREFACE, 9 
 
 jeet, and judge then, whether the Christian religion want 
 evidence, or whether nothing can be alleged, why we of 
 this age, so long after Christ's appearance upon the stage 
 of the world, are to reckon ourselves obliged to profess 
 Christianity, and observe the rules of that holy profession. 
 And really if, upon utmost search, it shall 'be found to 
 have firm truth at the bottom, it makes itself so necessary 
 (which must be acknowledged part of that truth), that 
 any one that hath wit enough to be author of a jest, might 
 understand it to be a thing not to be jested with. It trifles 
 with no man. And, where it is once sufficiently pro- 
 pounded, leaves it no longer indifferent whether we will 
 be of it or no. Supposing it true, it is strange if we can 
 pretend it not to be sufficiently propounded to us ; or that 
 we are destitute of sufficient means to come by the know- 
 ledge of that truth ! Was this religion instituted only for 
 one nation or age ] Did the Son of God descend from hea- 
 ven, put on flesh, and die ? had we an incarnate Deity con- 
 versant among men on earth, and made a sacrifice for the 
 sins of men ? and hath he left the world at liberty, whether, 
 upon any notice hereof, they should inquire and concern 
 themselves about him or no ? Being incarnate he could 
 not, as such, be every where ; nor was it fit he should be 
 long here, or needful (and, therefore, not fit) he should die 
 often. It was condescension enough that he vouchsafed once 
 to appear, in so mean and self-abasing a form, and offered 
 himself to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. And 
 whereas he hath himself founded a dominion over us in his 
 own blood, did die, and revive, and rise again, that he might 
 be Lord of the living and of the dead ; and the eternal Father 
 hath hereupon highly exalted him, given him a name above 
 every name, that at his name every knee should bow, and 
 that all should confess that he is Lord, to the praise and 
 glory of God ; and hath required that all should honour the 
 Son as himself is to be honoured ; hath given him power 
 over all flesh, and made him head of all things to the 
 church : was it ever intended men should, generally, remain 
 exempt from obligation to observe, believe, and obey him ? 
 
10 PREFACE. 
 
 was it his own intention to waive, or not insist upon, his 
 own most sacred, and so dearly acquired rights 1 to quit his 
 claim to the greatest part of mankind ? Why did he then 
 issue out his commission as soon as he was risen from the 
 dead, to teach all nations, to proselyte the world to him- 
 self, to haptize them into his name, with that of the Father 
 and the Holy Ghost ? (0 the great and venerable names that 
 are named upon professing Christians !) Could it be his 
 intention, to leave it lawful to men to choose this, or any, 
 or no religion, as their humours, or fancies, or lusts should 
 prompt them ; to disregard and deride his holy doctrines, 
 violate and trample upon his just and equal laws, reject and 
 contemn his offered favours and mercy, despise and profane 
 his sacred institutions ? When he actually makes his 
 demand, and lays his claim, what amazing guilt, how swift 
 destruction, must they incur, that dare adventure to deny 
 the Lord that bought them ! And they that shall do it, 
 among a Christianized people, upon the pretended insuf- 
 ficiency of the revelation they have of him, do but heighten 
 the affront and increase the provocation. 'Tis to charge the 
 whole Christian institution with foolery, as pretending to 
 oblige men, when they cannot know to what, how, or upon 
 what ground they should be obliged ; to pronounce the 
 means and methods inept, and vain, which he hath thought 
 sufficient (and only fit) for the propagating and continuing 
 Christianity in the world ; to render the rational reception 
 of it from age to age impossible, in his appointed way ; or 
 unless men should be taught by angels, or voices from heaven, 
 or that miracles should be so very frequent and common, as 
 thereby also to become useless to their end ; and so would 
 be to make the whole frame of Christian religion an idle 
 impertinency ; and, in reference to its avowed design, a 
 self-repugnant thing ; and consequently were to impute folly 
 to him who is the Wisdom of God. 
 
 And how are other things knowTi, of common concern- 
 ment, and whereof an immediate knowledge is as little 
 possible ? Can a man satisfy himself that he hath a title 
 to an estate, conveyed down to him by very ancient wa-itings, 
 
PREFACE. 11 
 
 the witnesses wliereof are long since dead and gone ? or that 
 he is obliged by laws made inany an age ago ? Or could 
 any records be preserved with more care and concern, than 
 those wherein our religion lies ? or be more secure from 
 designed or material deprivation ? But this is no place to 
 reason these things. Enough is said by others, referred to 
 before. I only further say, if any that have the use of 
 their understandings, living in a Christian nation, think to 
 justify their infidelity and disobedience to the Son of God, 
 by pretending they had no sufficient means to know him 
 to be so, the excuse will avail them alike, as that did him, 
 who insolently said. Who is the Lord, that I should obey 
 his voice 1 I know not the Lord, neither will I, &c. For 
 have not we as good means to know who Christ is, as the 
 Egyptians at that time had, to know who was the God of 
 Israel, though afterwards he was more known by the judg- 
 ments which he executed ? Although the knowledge of 
 the only true God be natural, and the obligation thereto 
 common to them ; yet the indisposition to use their under- 
 standing this way, is so great and general, and the express 
 revelation that Jesus Christ was the Son of God, requires so 
 much less labour to understand it, than there is in arguing 
 out the existence and attributes of God, by an inhabile, 
 sluggish mind, that the difference cannot be great, if any, 
 on that side. This latter only needs the inquiry, whence 
 the revelation comes ; which as it is not difficult in itself, 
 so this occasion, viz. of its being proposed, doth invite and 
 urge to it ; whereas the generality of the pagan world have 
 little of external inducement, leading them into inquiries 
 concerning the true God. Therefore, all circumstances 
 considered, I see not how they that live under the gospel 
 can be thought to have less advantage and obligation to 
 own Jesus of Nazareth to be the Son of God, than the rest 
 of the world, to own the only living and true God ; or that 
 the former should be less liable to the revelation of the 
 wrath of God from heaven for holding supernatural truth 
 in unrighteousness, than the otlicr, for doing so injurious 
 violence to that which is uhm-cIv natural. Unto what 
 
12 PREFACE. 
 
 severities, then, of the divine wrath and justice, even of the 
 highest kind, do multitudes lie open in our days ! 
 
 For besides those (much fewer) mental, or notional, 
 infidels, that believe not the principles of the Christian 
 religion, against the clearest evidence, how vastly greater is 
 the number of them that are so in heart and practice, against 
 their professed belief ! that live in utter estrangement from 
 God, as without him in the world, or in open enmity against 
 him, and contrariety to the known rules of the religion they 
 profess ! How many that understand nothing of its prin- 
 cipal and plainest doctrines ! as if nothing were requisite to 
 distinguish the Christian from the pagan world, more than 
 an empty name ; or as if the Redeemer of sinners had died 
 upon the cross, that men might more securely remain 
 alienated from the life of God, not to reconcile and reduce 
 them to him ! or that they might with safety indulge appe- 
 tite, mind earthly things, make the world their god, gratify 
 the flesh, and make provision to fulfil the lusts of it, defy 
 heaven, affront their Maker, live in malice, envy, hatred to 
 one another ! not to bless them, by turning them from these 
 impieties and iniquities ! As if it were so obscurely hinted, 
 as that it could not be taken notice of, that the grace of 
 God, which bringeth salvation to all men, hath appeared, 
 teaching them to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and 
 to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world, 
 so looking for the blessed hope. And that Christ gave him- 
 self for us, to redeem us from all iniquity, and to purify us 
 to himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works ! How 
 many, again, are Christians, they know not why ! upon 
 tlie same terms that others are Mahometans, because it is 
 the religion of their country, by fate or by accident, not by 
 their own choice and judgment ! The same inconsideration 
 makes them be Christians, that makes others be none. 
 
 And now, shall our Redeemer be left to weep alone over 
 these perishing souls ? have we no tears to spend upon this 
 doleful subject ? Oh that our heads were waters, and our 
 eyes fountains ! Is it nothing to us, that multitudes are 
 sinking, going down into perdition, under the name of 
 
PREFACE. 13 
 
 Christian, under the seal of baptism, from under the means 
 of life and salvation ! perishing ! and we can do nothing to 
 prevent it ? We know they must perish that do not repent 
 and turn to God, and love him above all, even with all their 
 hearts and souls, and mind and might ; that do not believe 
 in his Son and pay him homage, as their rightful Lord, 
 sincerely subjecting themselves to his laws and government. 
 But this they will not understand, or not consider. Our 
 endeavours to bring them to it are ineffectual ; 'tis but faint 
 breath we utter. Our words drop and die between us and 
 them ! We speak to them in the name of the eternal God 
 that made them, of the great Jesus who bought them with 
 his blood, and they regard it not. The Spirit of the Lord is 
 in a great degree departed from among us, and we take it 
 not to heart ! We are sensible of lesser grievances, are 
 grieved that men will not be more entirely proselyted to 
 our several parties and persuasions, rather than that they 
 are so disinclined to become proselytes to real Christianity ; 
 and seem more deeply concerned to have Christian religion 
 so or so modified, than whether there shall be any sucli 
 thing ! or whether men be saved by it or lost ! 
 
 This sad case, that so many were likely to be lost under 
 the first sound of the gospel ; and the most exemplary 
 temper of our blessed Lord in reference to it, are represented 
 in the following treatise ; with design to excite their care 
 for their own souls, who need to be warned, and the com- 
 passions of others for them w^ho are so little apt to take 
 warning. The good Lord grant that it may be, some way 
 or other, useful for good ! 
 
 John Howe. 
 
THE REDEEMEE'S TEARS 
 
 WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 
 
 " And when fte was come near, he beJield the city, and wept over it, taping. 
 If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which 
 belong unto thy peace I but now they are hid from thine eyes" — Luke, 
 xLx. 41, 42. 
 
 We have here a compassionate lamentation in the midst 
 of a solemn triumph. Our Lord's approach unto Jerusa- 
 lem at this time, and his entrance into it (as the foregoing 
 history shews), carried with them some face of regal and 
 triumphal pomp, but with such allays, as discovered a 
 mind most remote from ostentation ; and led by judgment 
 (not vain glory), to transmit through a dark umbrage some 
 glimmerings only of that excellent majesty which both his 
 sonship and his mediatorship entitled him unto ; a very 
 modest and mean specimen of his true indubious royalty 
 and kingly state ; such as might rather intimate than 
 plainly declare it, and rather afford an after-instruction to 
 teachable minds, than beget a present conviction and dread 
 in the stupidly obstinate and unteachable. And this effect 
 we find it had, as is observed by another evangelical histo- 
 rian ; who relating the same matter, how in his passage to 
 Jerusalem the people met him with branches of palm- 
 trees and joyful hosannas, he riding upon an ass's colt 
 (as princes or judges, to signify meekness as much as state, 
 were wont to do. Judges v. 10), tells us, these things his 
 disciples understood not at the first, but when Jesus was 
 glorified, then remembered they that these things were 
 written of him, and that they had done these things unto 
 him, John, xii. 16. For great regard was had in this, as 
 
16 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 in all the acts of his life and ministry, to that last and 
 conclusive part, his dying a sacrifice upon the c 'oss for 
 the sins of men ; to observe all along that mediocrity, and 
 steer that middle course between obscurity and a terrifying, 
 overpowering glory, that this solemn oblation of himself 
 might neither be prevented, nor be disregarded. Agreeably 
 to this design, and the rest of his course, he doth, in this 
 solemnity, rather discover his royal state and dignity by a 
 darkemblem, than by an express representation ; and shews 
 in it more of meekness and humility, than of awful majest} 
 and magnificence, as was formerly predicted, Zech. ix. 9. 
 Rejoice greatly, daughter of Zion ; shout, daughter of 
 Jerusalem : behold, thy King cometh unto thee : he is just, 
 and having salvation ; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and 
 upon a colt the foal of an ass. 
 
 And how little he was taken in this piece of state, is 
 sufficiently to be seen in this paragraph of the chapter. 
 His mind is much more taken up in the foresight of Jeru- 
 salem's sad case ; and therefore being come within view of 
 it (which he might very commodiously have in the descent 
 of the higher opposite hill, moimt Olivet), he beheld the 
 city, 'tis said, and wept over it. Two things concur to 
 make up the cause of this sorrow : — 1. The greatness of the 
 calamity ; Jerusalem, once so dear to God, was to suffer, 
 not a scar, but a ruin ; — " The days shall come upon thee, 
 that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and com- 
 pass thee in on every side, and shall lay thee even with the 
 ground, and thy children within thee ; and they shall not 
 leave in thee one stone upon another :" and — 2. The lost 
 opportunity of preventing it ; — " If thouhadst knowii, even 
 thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto 
 thy peace ! but now they are hid from thine eye^," ver. 
 42. And again, " Thou knewest not the time of thy visi- 
 tation." 
 
 First, The calamity was greater in his eyes, than it can 
 be in ours. His large and comprehensive mind could take 
 the compass of this sad case. Our thoughts cannot reach 
 far, yet we can apprehend what may make this case very 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. »»' 17 
 
 deplorable ; we can consider Jerusalem as the city of the 
 great King, where was the palace and throne of the Ma- 
 jesty of heaven, vouchsafing to '' dwell with men on earth." 
 Here the divine light and glory had long shone ; here was 
 the sacred Shechinah, the dwelling-place of the Most High, 
 the symbols of his presence, the seat of worship, the mercy- 
 seat, the place of receiving addresses, and of dispensing 
 favours ; " The house of prayer for all nations." To his 
 own people this was the city of their solemnities, whither 
 the tribes were wont to go up, the tribes of the Lord, unto 
 the testimony of Israel, to give thanks unto the name of 
 the Lord : for there were set thrones of judgment, the 
 thrones of the house of David, Psal. cxxii. 4, 5. He that 
 was so great a lover of the souls of men, how grateful and 
 dear to his heart had the place been where through the 
 succession of many by-past ages the great God did use 
 (though more obscurely) to unfold his kind intentions 
 towards sinners, to hold solemn treaties with them, to make 
 himself known, to draw and allure souls into his own holy 
 worship and acquaintance ! And that now the dismal 
 prospect presents itself of desolation and ruin, ready to 
 overwhelm all this glory ! and lay waste the dwellings of 
 divine love ! his sorrow must be conceived proportionable 
 to the greatness of this desolating change. 
 
 Secondly, And the opportunity of prevention was quite 
 lost ! There was an opportunity : " He was sent to the 
 lost sheep of the house of Israel : he came to them as his 
 own." Had they received him, how joyful a place had 
 Jerusalem been ! How glorious had the triumphs of 
 God been there, had they repented, believed, obeyed 
 These were the " things that belonged to their peace ;" 
 this was their opportunity, their " day of visitation ;" these 
 were the things that might have been done within that 
 day : but it was now too late, their day was over, and the 
 things of their peace hid fi-om their eyes ; and how fervent 
 were his desires, they had done otherwise ! taken the wise 
 and safe course. If thou hadst known ! the words admit 
 the optative form, £/ being put, as 'tis observed to be some- 
 
 B 
 
18 THE BEDEEMEB'S TEABS 
 
 times by other authors, for s't&e, utinam; that thoa 
 hadst known, I wish thou hadst ; his sorrow must be pro- 
 portionable to his love. Or otherwise we may conceive 
 the sentence incomplete, part cut off by a more emphatical 
 aposiopesis, tears interrupting speech, and imposing a more 
 speaking silence, which imports an affection beyond all 
 words. They that were anciently so over-officious as to 
 raze those words " and wept over it" out of the canon, as 
 thinking it unworthy so divine a person to shed tears, did 
 greatly err, not knowing the Scriptures (which elsewhere 
 speak of our Lord's weeping), nor the power of divine love, 
 (now become incarnate), nor indeed the true pei-fections and 
 properties of human nature : otherwise they had never taken 
 upon them to reform the gospel, and reduce not only 
 Christianity, but Christ himself, to the measures and square 
 of their stoical philosophy : but these have also met w^ith 
 a like ancient confutation. 
 
 One thing (before we proceed) needs some disquisition, 
 viz. — Whether this lamentation of our blessed Loid do re- 
 fer only or ultimately to the temporal calamity he foresaw 
 coming upon Jerusalem : — or whether it had not a further 
 and more principal reference to their spiritual and eternal 
 miseries that were certain to be concomitant, and conse- 
 quent thereunto 1 Where let it be considered, 
 
 1. That very dreadful spiritual plagues and judgments 
 did accompany their destruction very generally ; which 
 every one knows who is acquainted with their after-story, 
 i. e. that takes notice what spirit reigned among them, and 
 what their behaviour was towards our Lord himself, and 
 afterwards towards his apostles and disciples all along to 
 their fearful catastrophe ; (as it may be collected from the 
 sacred records, and other history) ; what blindness of mind, 
 what hardness of heart, what mighty prejudice, what in- 
 flexible obstinacy, against the clearest light, the largest 
 mercy, the most perspicuous and most gi-acious doctrine, 
 and the most glorious works, wrought to confirm it, against 
 the brightest beams and evidences of the divine truth, 
 love, and power ! what persevering impenitency and infi- 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 19 
 
 delity against God and Christ, proceeding from the bitterest 
 enmity ! (Ye have both seen and hated me and my Father, 
 John, XV. 24). What mad rage and fury against one another, 
 even when death and destruction were at the very door ! 
 Here were all the tokens imaginable of the most tremen- 
 dous infatuation, and of their being forsaken of God. Here 
 was a concurrence of all kinds of spiritual judgments in the 
 highest degree. 
 
 2. That the concomitancy of such spiritual evils with 
 their temporal destruction, our Lord foreknew as well as 
 their temporal destruction itself. It lay equally in view- 
 before him ; and was as much under his eye. He that 
 knew what was in man, could as well tell what would be 
 in him. And by the same light by which he could imme- 
 diately look into hearts, he could as well see into futurities, 
 and as well the one futurity as the other. The knowledge 
 of the one he did not owe to his human understanding : from 
 his divine understanding, whereby he knew all things, the 
 other could not be hid. 
 
 3. The connexion between the impenitency and infidelity 
 that prove to be final, and eternal misery, is known to us 
 all. Of his knowlege of it therefore (whose law hath made 
 the connexion, besides what there is in the nature of the 
 things themselves) there can be no doubt. 
 
 4. That the miseries of the soul, especially such as prove 
 incurable and eternal, are in themselves far the greatest, we 
 all acknowledge : nor can we make a difficulty to believe, 
 that our Lord apprehended and considered things according 
 as they were in themselves, so as to allow every thing its 
 own proper weight and import in his estimating of them. 
 These tilings seem all very evident to any eye. Now though 
 it be confessed not impossible, that of things so distinct 
 from one another as outward and temporal evils, and those 
 that are spiritual and eternal, even befalling the same 
 persons, one may for the present consider the one without 
 attending to the other, or making distinct reflection thereon 
 at the same time ; yet how unlikely is it, these things bor- 
 dering so closely upon one another as they did in the pre- 
 
20 THE BEDEEMEr's TEARS 
 
 sent case, that so comprehensive a mind as our Saviour's 
 was, sufficiently ahle to enclose them both, and so spiritual 
 a mind, apt no doubt to consider most what was in itself 
 most considerable, should in a solemn lamentation of so sad 
 a case, wholly overlook the saddest part, and stay his 
 thoughts only upon the surface and outside of it ! That he 
 mentions only the approaching outward calamity (ver. 43, 
 44), was that he spake in the hearing of the multitude, and 
 upon the way, but in passing, when there was not oppor- 
 tunity for large discourse ; and therefore he spake what 
 might soonest strike their minds, was most liable to com- 
 mon apprehension, and might most deeply affect ordinary, 
 and not yet enough prepared, hearers. 
 
 And he spake what he had, no doubt, a deep sense of 
 himself. Whatever of tender compassions might be ex- 
 pected fi-om the most perfect humanity and benignity, 
 could not be wanting in him, upon the foresight of such a 
 calamity as was coming upon that place and people. But 
 yet, what was the sacking of a city, the destroying of 
 pompous buildings that were all of a perishable material, 
 the mangling of human flesh, over which the worm was 
 otherwise shortly to have had dominion ; to the alienation 
 of men's minds fi-om God, their disaffection to the only 
 means of their recovery, and reconciliation to him, and 
 their subjection to his wrath and curse for ever ! When 
 also it is plain he considered that perverse temper of mind 
 and spirit in them, as the cause of their ruin ! which his 
 own words imply ; that " the things which belonged to 
 their peace were hid fi-om their eyes ;" and that the things 
 he foretold, should befall them, because " they knew not 
 the time of their visitation." For what could the things 
 be that belonged to their peace, but turning to God, be- 
 lieving in himself, as the Messiah, bringing forth the fruits 
 meet for repentance 1 Whence also there must be another 
 latent and concealed meaning of their peace itself, than 
 only their continued amity with the Roman state ; their 
 peace with heaven ; their being set right, and standing in 
 favour and acceptance, with God. For was it ever the first 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 21 
 
 intention of the things enjoined in gospel, but to entitle 
 men to earthly secular benefits ? 
 
 Nor can we doubt but the sa,me things lay deep in the 
 mind of our blessed Lord, when he uttered these words, 
 as when he spake those so very like them, Matt, xxiii, 37, 
 38. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the pro- 
 phets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often 
 would I have gathered thy children together even as a hen 
 gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! 
 Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. These other 
 were not spoken indeed at the same time, but very soon 
 after : those we are considering, in his way to the city, 
 these when he was come into it, most probably, by the 
 series of the evangelical history, the second day, after his 
 having lodged the first night at Bethany. But it is plain 
 they have the same sense, and that the same things lay 
 with great weight upon his spirit ; so that the one passage 
 may contribute much to the enlightening and expounding 
 of the other. 
 
 Now what can be meant by that, " I would have gather- 
 ed you as the hen her chickens under her wings V Could 
 it intend a political meaning ; that he would have been a 
 temporal prince and saviour to them ] which he so earnestly 
 declined and disclaimed ; professing to the last, his king- 
 dom was not of this world. It could mean no other thing, 
 but that he would have reduced them back to God, have 
 gathered and united them under his own gracious and safe 
 conduct in order thereto, have secured them from the divine 
 wrath and justice, and have conferred on them spiritual 
 and eternal blessings. In a like sense i\\e\x peace here was 
 no doubt more principally to be understood ; and their loss 
 and forfeiture of it, by their not understanding the things 
 belonging thereto, considered and lamented. 
 
 Therefore the principal intendment of this lamentation, 
 though directly applied to a community, and the formed 
 body of a people, is equally applicable unto particular 
 persons living under the gospel, or to whom the ordinary 
 means of conversion and salvation are vouchsafed, but are 
 
22 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 neglected by them and forfeited. We may therefore thus 
 smn up the meaning and sense of these words : — That it is 
 a thing in itself very lamentable, and much lamented by 
 our Lord Jesus, when such as living under the gospel, have 
 had a day of grace, and an opportunity of knowing the 
 things belonging to their peace, have so outworn that day, 
 and lost their opportunity, that the things of their peace 
 are quite hid from their eyes : — where we have these dis- 
 tinct heads of discourse to be severally considered and in- 
 sisted on, 
 
 I. AVhat are the things necessary to be kno^^^l by such as 
 live under the gospel, as immediately belonging to their 
 peace. 
 
 II. That they have a day or season wherein to know not 
 these things only, but the whole compass of their case, and 
 what the knowledge of those things more immediately be- 
 longing to their peace supposes, and depends upon. 
 
 III. That this day hath its boimds and limits, so that 
 when it is over and lost ; those things are for ever hid fi'om 
 their eyes. 
 
 IV. That this is a case to be considered with deep resent- 
 ment and lamentation, and was so by our Lord Jesus. 
 
 I. What are the things necessary to be known by such 
 as live under the gospel, as immediately belonging to their 
 peace ? Where we are more particularly to inquire, — 1. 
 What those things themselves are — 2. What sort of know- 
 ledge of them it is that here is meant, and made necessary. 
 
 1. What the things are which belong to the peace of a 
 people living under the gospel. The things belonging to 
 a people's peace, are not throughout the same with all. 
 Living, or not living, under the gospel makes a consider- 
 able difference in the matter. Before the incarnation and 
 public appearance of our Lord, something was not neces- 
 sary among the Jews, that afterwards became necessary. 
 It was sufficient to them before, to believe in a Messiah to 
 come, more indefinitely. Afterwards he plainly tells them, 
 If ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in your sins, 
 John, viii. 24. Believing in Christ cannot be necessary to 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 23 
 
 pagans that never heard of him, as a duty, howsoever neces- 
 sary it may be as a 'means. Their not believing in him 
 cannot be itself a sin, though by it they should want re- 
 medy for their other sins. But it more concerns us who 
 do live under the gospel, to apprehend aright what is ne- 
 cessary for ourselves. That is a short and full summary 
 which the Apostle gives, Acts, xx. 21. Repentance towards 
 God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. The gospel finds 
 us in a state of apostacy from God, both as our sovereign 
 Ruler, and sovereign Good, not apt to obey and glorify him, 
 as the former, nor enjoy him, and be satisfied in him, as 
 the latter. Repentance towards God cures and removes 
 this disaffection of our minds and hearts towards him, 
 under both these notions. By it the whole soul turns to 
 him, with this sense and resolution : " I have been a re- 
 bellious disloyal Avretch, against the high authority and 
 most rightful government of him who gave me breath, and 
 whose creature I am. I will live no longer thus. Lo now 
 I come back unto thee, Lord, thou art my Lord and 
 God. Thee I now design to serve and obey, as the Lord 
 of my life ; thee I will fear, unto thee I subject myself, to 
 live no longer after my own will, but thine. I have been 
 hitherto a miserable forlorn distressed creatui-e, destitute of 
 any thing that could satisfy me, or make me happy ; have 
 set my heart upon a vain and thorny world, that had 
 nothing in it answerable to my real necessities, that hath 
 flattered and mocked me often, never satisfied me, and been 
 wont to requite my pm-suits of satisfaction from it with 
 vexation and trouble, and ' pierce me through with many 
 sorrows.' I have borne in the mean time a disaffected 
 heart towards thee, have therefore cast thee out of my 
 thoughts, so that amidst all my disappointments and sor- 
 rows, it never came into my mind to say, ' Where is God 
 my Maker ?' I could never savour any thing spiritual 
 or divine, and was ever more ready, in distress, to turn 
 myself any way than (that which I ought) towards thee. 
 I now see and bemoan my folly, and with a convinced, 
 self-judging heart, betake myself to thee ; the desii'es of my 
 
24 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 soul are now unto thy name, and to the remembrance of 
 thee. Whom have I in heaven but thee, or on earth that 
 I can desire besides thee ?" 
 
 This is " repentance towards God," and is one thing 
 belonging, and most simply necessary, to our peace. But 
 though it be most necessary, it is not enough. It answers 
 to something of our ^vretched case, but not to every thing. 
 We were in our state of apostasy averse and disaffected to 
 God. To this evil, repentance towards him is the opposite 
 and only proper remedy. But besides our being without 
 inclination towards him, we are also without interest in him. 
 We not only had unjustly cast off him, but were also most 
 justly cast off by him. Our injustice had set us against 
 him, and his justice had set him against us ; we need, in 
 order to our peace with him, to be relieved as well against 
 his justice, as our own injustice. What if, now we would 
 return to him, he will not receive us ] And he will not 
 receive us for our own sakes. He must have a recom- 
 pense for the wrong we had done him, by our rebellion 
 against his government, and our contempt of his goodness. 
 Our repentance is no expiation. Nor have we of our o\^^l, 
 or were capable of obliging him to give us, the power and 
 grace to repent. Our high violation of the sacred rights 
 and honour of the Godhead, made it necessary, in order to 
 our peace and reconciliation, there should be a sacrifice, and 
 a mediator between him and us. He hath judged it not 
 honourable to him, not becoming him to treat with us, or 
 vouchsafe us favours upon other terms. And since he 
 thought it necessary to insist upon having a sacrifice, he 
 judged it necessary too, to have one proportionable to the 
 wrong done ; lest he should make the Majesty of heaven 
 cheap, or occasion men to think it a light matter to have 
 fundamentally overturned the common order which was 
 settled between himself and men. The whole earth could 
 not have afforded such a sacrifice, it must be supplied from 
 heaven. His co-eternal Son made man, and so uniting 
 heaven and earth in his own person, undertakes to be that 
 sacrifice, and, in the virtue of it, to be a standing continual 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 25 
 
 Mediator between God and us ; through him, and for his 
 sake, all acts and influences of grace are to proceed towards 
 us. IS"o sin is to be forgiven, no grace to be conferred, but 
 upon his account. 'Tis reckoned most God-like, most suit- 
 able to the divine greatness, once off'ended, to do nothing 
 that shall import favour towards sinners, but upon his 
 constant interposition. Him hath he set over us, and di- 
 rected that all our applications to himself, and all our 
 expectations from him, should be through him. Him hath 
 he exalted to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give us re- 
 pentance and remission of sins. Acts, v. 31. Now to one so 
 high in power over us, he expects we should pay a suitable 
 homage. That homage the Holy Scriptui-e calls by the 
 name of Faith, believing on him. God hath set him forth 
 to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare 
 his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, 
 through the forbearance of God ; to declare his righteous- 
 ness, that he might be just, and the justifier of him which 
 believeth in Jesus, Rom. iii. 25, 26. So that when by 
 repentance we tui-n to God, as our end, we must also apply 
 ourselves by faith, to our Lord Jesus Christ, as our way 
 to that end. Which till we do, we are in rebellion still, 
 and know not what belongs to our peace. He insists that his 
 Son, into whose hands he hath committed our affairs, should 
 be honoured by us, as he himself requires to be, John, v. 23. 
 Now these two things sum up our part of the covenant 
 between God and us. By repentance we again take God 
 for our God. Repenting we return to him as our God. By 
 faith we take his Son for our Prince and Saviour. These 
 things, by the tenor of the evangelical covenant, are re- 
 quired of us. Peace is settled between God and us (as it is 
 usually with men towards one another after mutual hos- 
 tilities) by striking a covenant. And in our case it is a 
 covenant by sacrifice, as you have seen. Nor are harder 
 terms than these imposed upon us. Dost thou now, sinner, 
 apprehend thyself gone off from God ? and find a war is 
 commenced and on foot, between God and thee ? He can 
 easily conquer and crush thee to nothing, but he offers 
 
26 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 thee terms of peace, upon which he is willing to enter into 
 covenant with thee. Dost thou like his tenns ? Art thou 
 willing to return to him, and take him again for thy God ? 
 to resign and commit thyself with unfeigned trust and sub- 
 jection into the hands of his Son thy Redeemer? These 
 are " the things which belong to thy peace." See that thou 
 now know them. 
 
 2. But what knowledge of them is it that is here meant 1 
 The thing speaks itself. It is not a mere contemplative 
 knowledge. We must so know them as to do them ; other- 
 wise the increase of knowledge is the increase of sorrow. 
 Thy guilt and misery will be the greater. To know any 
 thing that concerns our practice, is to no purpose if we do 
 not practise it. It was a Hebrew form of speech, and is a 
 common form, by words of knowledge to imply practice. 
 It being taken for granted that in matters so very reason- 
 able and important, if what we are to do once be rightly 
 known, it will be done. Thus elsewhere the same great 
 requisites to eternal life and blessedness are expressed by 
 our Lord. This is life eternal, to know thee the only true 
 God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent ; it being sup- 
 posed and taken for granted that a true, vivid knowledge 
 of God and Christ will immediately form the soiil to all 
 suitable dispositions and deportments towards the one and 
 the other ; and consequently to all men also, as Christian 
 precepts do direct to all the acts of sobriety, justice, and 
 charity, unto which the law of Christ obliges. An habitual 
 course of sin in any kind, is inconsistent with this know- 
 ledge of the things of our peace, and therefore with our 
 peace itself. All sin is in a true sense reducible to igno- 
 rance ; and customary sinning into total destitution of di- 
 vine knowledge. According to the usual style of the sa- 
 cred writings, 1 Cor. xv. 34. Awake to righteousness, 
 and sin not ; for some have not the knowledge of God. 
 3 John ii. He that sinneth i. e. that is a doer of sin, 6 xa- 
 xoToiuv, a worker of iniquity, hath not seen God. 
 
 II. Such as live under the gospel have a day, or a pre- 
 sent opportunity, for the obtaining the knowledge of these 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 27 
 
 things immediately belonging to their peace, and of what- 
 soever is besides necessary thereunto. I say nothing what 
 opportunities they have Avho never lived under the gospel, 
 who yet no doubt might generally know more than they 
 do ; and know better what they do know. It suffices us 
 who enjoy the gospel, to understand our own advantages 
 thereby. Nor, as to those who do enjoy it, is every one's 
 day of equal clearness. How few in comparison, have ever 
 seen such a day as Jerusalem at this time did ! made by 
 the immediate beams of the Sun of righteousness ! oui- Lord 
 himself vouchsafing to be their Instructor, so speaking as 
 never man did ; and with such authority as far outdid their 
 other teachers, and astonished the hearers. In what trans- 
 ports did he use to leave those that heard him, wheresoever 
 he came, wondering at the gracious words that came out 
 of his mouth ! And with what mighty and beneficial works 
 was he wont to recommend his doctrine, shining in the 
 glorious power, and savouring of the abundant mercy of 
 heaven, so as every apprehensive mind might see the Deity 
 was incarnate, Goa was come doA\Ti to treat with men, and 
 allure them into the knowledge and love of himself. The 
 word was made flesh. What unprejudiced mind might 
 not perceive it to be so ? He was there manifested and 
 veiled at once ; both expressions are used concerning the 
 same matter. The Divine beams were somewhat obscured, 
 but did yet ray through that vail ; so that his glory was 
 beheld as the glory of the only begotten Son of the Father, 
 full of grace and trutb, John i. 14. This Sun shone with 
 a mild and benign, but with a powerful vivifying light. 
 In him was life, and that life was the light of men. Such 
 a light created unto the Jews this their day. Happy Jews, 
 if they had understood their own happiness ! And the days 
 that followed, to them (for a while) and the gentile world, 
 were not inferior, in some respects brighter and more glo- 
 rious (the more copious gift of the Holy Gliost being re- 
 served unto tlie crowning and enthroning of the victorious 
 Redeemer), when the everlasting gospel flew like lightning 
 to the utmost ends of the earth ; and the word which began 
 
28 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 to be spoken by the Lord himself, was confirmed by them 
 that heard him, God also himself bearing them witness, 
 with signs, and wonders, and gifts of the Holy Ghost, Heb. 
 ii. 4. No such day hath been seen this many an age. Yet 
 whithersoever the same gospel, for substance, comes, it also 
 makes a day of the same kind, and affords always true, 
 though diminished light ; whereby, however the things of 
 our peace might be understood and known. The written 
 gospel varies not ; and if it be but simply and plainly pro- 
 posed (though to some it be proposed with more advantage, 
 to some with less, yet), still we have the same things im- 
 mediately relating to our peace extant before our eyes ; and 
 divers things besides, which it concerns us to be acquainted 
 with, that we may the more distinctly and to better pur- 
 pose understand these things. For instance, 
 
 1. We have the true and distinct state of the quarrel 
 between God and us. Pagans have understood somewhat 
 of the apostasy of man from God ; that he is not in the 
 same state wherein he was at first. But while they have 
 understood that something was amiss, they could scarce 
 tell what. The gospel reveals the universal pravity of 
 the degenerate nature even of all men, and of every faculty, 
 in man ; That there is none that doeth good, no not one 
 (Rom. iii.) ; and that every one is altogether become filthy 
 and impure, and that there is an entire old man to be put 
 off, wholly corrupt by deceivable lusts (Eph. iv.) ; that the 
 axgoTTOA/?, the noblest powers, are vitiated, the mind and 
 conscience defiled ; that the spirit of the mind needs renew- 
 ing, is sunk into carnality ; and that the carnal mind is 
 enmity against God (Rom. viii.), and is not subject to his 
 law, nor can be, nor capable of savouring the things of 
 God ; that the sinner is in the flesh, under the dominion 
 of power, and in the possession of the fleshly, sensual na- 
 ture, and can therefore neither obey God nor enjoy him ; 
 that it is become impossible to him either to please God, 
 or be pleased with him. That the sinner's quarrel there- 
 fore with God is about the most appropriate rights of the 
 Godhead ; the controversy is who shall be God, which is 
 
TVEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 29 
 
 the supreme authority and which is the supreme good. 
 The former peculiarity of the Godhead, the lapsed creature 
 is become so insolent, as to usurp and arrogate to himself. 
 When he is become so much less than a man (a very beast) 
 he will be a god. His sensual will shall be his only law. 
 He lives and walks after the flesh, serves divers lusts and 
 pleasures, and says, " Who is the Lord over me ?" But 
 being conscious that he is not self-sufficient, that he must 
 be beholden to somewhat foreign to himself for his satis- 
 faction, and finding nothing else suitable to his sensual 
 inclination ; that other divine peculiarity, to be the supreme 
 good, he places upon the sensible world ; and for this pur- 
 pose that shall be his god ; so that between himself and 
 the world he attempts to share the undivided Godhead. 
 This is a controversy of a high nature, and about other 
 matters than even the Jewish Rabbins thought of, who 
 when Jerusalem was destroyed, supposed God was angry 
 with them for their neglect of the recitation of their phy- 
 lacteries morning and evening ; or that they were not re- 
 spectful enough of one another ; or that distance enough 
 was not observed between superiors and inferiors, &c. The 
 gospel impleads men as rebels against their rightful Lord ; 
 but of this treason against the Majesty of heaven men little 
 suspect themselves till they are told. The gospel tells them 
 so plainly, represents the matter in so clear a light, that 
 they need only to contemplate themselves in that light, and 
 they may see that so it is. Men may indeed, by resolved, 
 stiff winking, create to themselves a darkness amidst the 
 clearest light. But open thine eyes man, thou that livest 
 under the gospel, set thyself to view thine own soul, thou wilt 
 find it is day with thee ; thou hast a day, by being under 
 the gospel, and light enough to see that this is the posture 
 of thy soul, and the state of thy case God-ward. And it is 
 a great matter towards the understanding the things of thy 
 peace, to know aright what is the time state of the quarrel 
 between God and thee. 
 
 2. The gospel affords light to know what the issue of 
 this quarrel is sure to be, if it go on, and there be no recon- 
 
30 THE REDEEMER 8 TEARS 
 
 ciliation. It gives us other and plainer accounts of the 
 punishment of the other world ; more fully represents the 
 extremity and perpetuity of the future miseries, and state 
 of perdition appointed for the ungodly world ; speaks out 
 concerning the " Tophet prepared of old" (Isa. xxx.), " the 
 lake of fire and brimstone" (Rev. xxi.) ; shews the miseries 
 of that state to he the immediate effects of divine displea- 
 sure ; that " the breath of the Almighty as a river of brim- 
 stone" always foments those flames ; that " indignation 
 and wrath cause the tribulation and anguish" (Rom. ii.) 
 v/hich must be the portion of evil-doers ; and how " fearful a 
 thing it is to fall into the hands of the living God !" (Heb. 
 X.) It gives us to understand what accession men's own 
 unaltered vicious habits will have to their miseries ; their 
 own outrageous lusts and passions, which here they made 
 it their business to satisfy, becoming their insatiable tor- 
 mentors ; that they are to receive " the things done in the 
 body, according to what they have done" (2 Cor. v.) ; and 
 that " what they have sowed, the same also they are to reap" 
 (Gal. vi.) ; and what their own guilty reflections will con- 
 tribute, the bitings and gna wings of the worm that dies 
 not, the venomous corrosions of the viper bred in their 
 own bosoms, and now become a full-grown serpent ; what 
 the society and insultation of devils, with whom they are 
 to partake in woes and torments, and by whom they have 
 been seduced and trained into that cursed partnership and 
 commimion ; and that this fire wherein they are to be tor- 
 mented together, is to be everlasting, " a fire never to be 
 quenched." If men be left to their own conjectures only, 
 touching the danger they incur by continuing and keeping 
 up a war with heaven, and are to make their own hell, and 
 that it be the creature only of their o^^^l imagination ; 'tis 
 like they will make it as easy and favourable as they can ; 
 and so are little likely to be urged earnestly to sue for 
 peace by the imagination of a tolerable hell. But if they 
 understand it to be altogether intolerable, this may make 
 them bestir themselves, and think the favour of God worth 
 the seeking. The gospel imports favour and kindness to 
 
WEPT OVEE LOST 80ULS. 31 
 
 you, when it imports most of terror, in telling you so plainly 
 the worst of your case if you go on in a sinftil course. It 
 makes you a day, by which you may make a timer judg- 
 ment of the blackness, darkness, and horror of that ever- 
 lasting night that is coming on upon you ; and lets you 
 know that black and endless night is introduced by a ter- 
 rible preceding day, that day of the Lord the business 
 whereof is judgment. They that live under the gospel 
 cannot pretend they are in darkness so as that day should 
 overtake them as a thief; and that, by surprise, they should 
 be doomed and abandoned to the regions of darkness. The 
 gospel forewarns you plainly of all this ; which it does 
 not merely to fright and torment you before the time, but 
 that you may steer your course another way, and escape 
 the place and state of torment. It only says this that it 
 may render the more acceptable to you what it hath to say 
 besides ; and only threatens you with these things if there 
 be no reconciliation between God and you. But then at 
 the same time, 
 
 3. It also represents God to you as reconcilable through 
 a Mediator. In that gospel " peace is preached to you, 
 by Jesus Christ." That gospel lets you see God in Christ 
 reconciling the world unto himself, that sin may not be 
 imputed to them. That gospel proclaims glory to God in 
 the highest, peace on earth, good will towards men. So 
 did the voices of angels sum up the glad tidings of the 
 gospel, when that Prince of peace was born into the world. 
 It tells you " God desires not the death of sinners, but that 
 they may turn and live ;" that he would " have all men 
 be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth ;" that 
 he is " long-suffering towards them, not willing that any 
 should perish, but that all should come to repentance," 
 that he " so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten 
 Son, that whosoever believes on him should not perish, 
 but have everlasting life." The rest of the world can't 
 but collect, from darker intimations, God's favourable pro- 
 pensions towards them. He spares them, is patient to- 
 wards them, that herein " his goodness might lead them to 
 
32 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 repentance." He sustains them, lets them dwell in a 
 world which they might understand was of his making, 
 and whereof he is absolute Lord. " They live, move, and 
 have their being in him, that they might seek after him, 
 and by feeling find him out." He doth them " good, 
 gives them rain from heaven and fruitful seasons, filling 
 their hearts with food and gladness." He lets " his sun 
 shine on them," whose far extended beams shew forth his 
 kindness and benignity to men, even " to the utmost ends 
 of the earth. For there is no speech or language whither 
 his line and circle reaches not." But those are but dull 
 and glimmering beams in comparison of thoss that shine 
 from the Sun of righteousness through the gospel -revela- 
 tion, and in respect of that divine glory which appears in 
 the face of Jesus Christ. How clearly doth the light of 
 this gospel- day reveal God's design of reducing sinners, 
 and reconciling them to himself by a Redeemer ! How 
 canst thou but say, sinner, thou hast a day of it ? and clear 
 day-light shewing thee what the good and acceptable will 
 of God towards thee is ? Thou art not left to guess only 
 thou mayst be reconciled and find mercy, and to grope and 
 feel thy way in the dark, unless it be a darkness of thy own 
 making. And whereas a sinner, a disloyal rebellious crea- 
 ture, that hath affronted the Majesty of heaven, and engaged 
 against himself the wrath and justice of his Maker, and is 
 unable to make him any recompense, can have no reason 
 to hope God will shew him mercy, and be reconciled to 
 him for his own sake, or for any thing he can do to oblige 
 or induce him to it ; the same gospel shews you plainly, 
 it is for the Redeemer's sake, and what he hath done and 
 suffered to procure it. But inasmuch also as the sinner 
 may easily apprehend, that it can never answer the neces- 
 sities of his state and case, that God only be not his enemy, 
 that he forbear hostilities towards him, pursue him not 
 with vengeance to his destruction. For he finds himself 
 an indigent creature, and he needs somewhat beyond what 
 he hath ever yet met with to make him happy ; that it is 
 uneasy and grievous to wander up and down with craving 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 33 
 
 desires among varieties of objects that look speciously, but 
 which, either he cannot so far compass as to make a trial 
 what there is in them, or wherewith, upon trial, he finds 
 himself mocked and disappointed, and that really they 
 have nothing in them ; he finds himself a mortal creature, 
 and considers that if he had all that he can covet in this 
 world, the increase of his present enjoyments doth but in- 
 crease unto him trouble and anguish of heart, while he 
 thinks what great things he must shortly leave and lose for 
 ever, to go he knows not whither, into darksome, gloomy 
 regions, where he cannot so much as imagine any thing 
 suitable to his inclinations and desires. For he knows all 
 that is delectable to his present sense he must here leave 
 behind him ; and he cannot divest himself of all apprehen- 
 sions of a future state, wherein if God should make him 
 suffer nothing, yet, if he have nothing to enjoy, he must be 
 always miserable. 
 
 4. The gospel, therefore, farther represents to him the 
 final, eternal blessedness, and glorious state, which they 
 that are reconciled shall be brought into. They that live 
 under the gospel are not mocked with shadows, and empty 
 clouds, nor with fabulous elysiums. Nor are they put oflF 
 with some unintelligible notion of only being happy in 
 general. But are told expressly wherein their happiness is 
 to consist. " Life and immortality are brought to light in 
 the gospel." 'Tis given them to understand how great a 
 good is laid up in store. The things which eye hath not 
 seen, and ear not heard, and which otherwise could not 
 have entered into the heart of man, the things of God's 
 present and eternal kingdom, are set in view. It shews 
 the future state of the reconciled shall consist not only in 
 freedom from what is evil, but in the enjoyment of the 
 best and most delectable good ; that God himself in all his 
 glorious fulness will be their eternal and most satisfying 
 portion ; that their blessedness is to lie in the perpetual 
 fruitive vision of his blessed face, and in the fulness of joy, 
 and the everlasting pleasures which the divine presence 
 itself doth perpetually afford. And whereas their glorious 
 
34 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 Redeemer is so nearly allied to them, flesh of their flesh, 
 who inasmuch as the children were made partakers of flesh 
 and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same 
 (Heb. ii. 14), and is become by special title their authorized 
 Lord, they are assured (of that, than which nothing 
 should be more grateful to them) " they shall be for ever 
 with the Lord ;" that they are to be where he is, " to behold 
 his glory ;" and shall be "joint-heirs with Christ," and be 
 " glorified together with him," shall partake, according to 
 their measure and capacity, in the same blessedness which 
 he enjoys. Thou canst not pretend, sinner, who livest 
 under the gospel, that thou hast not the light of the day to 
 shew thee what blessedness is. Heaven is opened to thee. 
 Glory beams down from thence upon thee to create thee a 
 day, by the light whereof thou mayst see with sufficient 
 clearness what is " the inheritance of the saints in light." 
 And though all be not told thee, and it do not in every 
 respect appear what we shall be ; so much may be fore- 
 known, that when he shall appear, we shall be like him, 
 and shall see him as he is, 1 John iii. 1, 2. And because the 
 heart, as yet carnal, can savour little of all this ; and find- 
 ing itself strange and disaffected to God, affecting now to be 
 without Christ and without God in the world, may easily 
 apprehend it impossible to it to be happy in an undesired 
 good, or that it can enjoy what it dislikes ; or, in the mean 
 time, walk in a way to which it finds in itself nothing but 
 utter averseness and disinclination. 
 
 5. The gospel further shews us what is to be wrought 
 and done in us to attemper and frame our spirits to our 
 future state and present way to it. It lets us know we are 
 to be born again, born from above, bom of God, made 
 partakers of a divine nature, that will make the temper of 
 our spirits connatural to the divine presence. That whereas 
 " God is light, and with him is no darkness at all," we 
 " who were darkness shall be made light in the Lord :" 
 that we are to be " begotten again to a lively hope, to the 
 eternal and undefiled inheritance that is reserved in the 
 heavens for us :" that we are thus to be made " meet to 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 35 
 
 be partakers of that inheritance of the saints in light." And 
 as we are to be eternally conversant with Christ, we are 
 here to put on Christ, to have Christ in us the hope of 
 glory. And whereas only the way of holiness and obe- 
 dience leads to blessedness, that we are to be " created in 
 Christ Jesus to good works to walk in them." And shall 
 thereupon find the ways prescribed to us by him, who is 
 the Wisdom of God, to be all " ways of pleasantness and 
 paths of peace :" that he will " put his Spirit into us, and 
 cause us to walk in his statutes," and to account that " in 
 keeping them there is great reward." And thus all that is 
 contained in that mentioned summary of the things be- 
 longing to our peace, " repentance towards God, and faith 
 in our Lord JesiLs Christ," will all become easy to us, and 
 as the acts of nature ; proceeding from that new and holy 
 nature imparted to us. 
 
 And whosoever thou art that livest under the gospel, 
 canst thou deny that it is day with thee, as to all this ? 
 "Wast thou never told of this great necessary heart-change ? 
 Didst thou never hear that the " tree must be made good 
 that the fruit might be good ?" that thou must become a 
 " new creature, have old things done away, and all things 
 made new ?" Didst thou never hear of the necessity of 
 having " a new heart, and a right spirit" created and re- 
 newed in thee ; that except thou wert " born again," or 
 from above (as that expression may be read), thou couldst 
 " never enter into the kingdom of God ?" Wast thou kept 
 in ignorance that a form of godliness without the power of 
 it would never do thee good ? that a name to live without 
 the principle of the holy, divine life, would never save thee ? 
 that a specious outside, that all thy external performances, 
 while thou wentest with an unrenewed, earthly, carnal 
 heart, would never advantage thee as to thy eternal salvation 
 and blessedness ? And this might help thine understand- 
 ing concerning the nature of thy future blessedness, and 
 will be found most agreeable to it, being aright under- 
 stood : for as thou art not to be blessed by a blessedness 
 without thee and distant from thee, but inwrought into 
 
36 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 tliy temper, and intimately united Avith thee, nor glorified 
 by an external glory, but by a glory revealed within thee ; 
 so nor canst thou be qualified for that blessed glorious state 
 otherwise than by having the temper of thy soul made 
 habitually holy and good. As what a good man partakes 
 of happiness here is such, that he is " satisfied from him- 
 self ;" so it must be hereafter, not originally fi-om himself, 
 but by divine communication made most intimate to him. 
 Didst thou not know that it belonged to thy peace, to have 
 a peace-maker ? and that the Son of God was he ? and 
 that he makes not the peace of those that despise and refuse 
 him, or that receive him not, that come not to him, and 
 are not willing to come to God by him ? Couldst thou 
 think, living under the gospel, that the reconciliation be- 
 tween God and thee was not to be mutual ? that he would 
 be reconciled to thee while thou wouldst not be reconciled 
 to him, or shouldst still bear towards him a disaffected, 
 implacable heart ? For couldst thou be so void of all un- 
 derstanding as not to apprehend what the gospel was sent 
 to thee for ? or why it was necessary to be preached to 
 thee, or that thou shouldst hear it ? Who was to be recon- 
 ciled by a gospel preached to thee but thyself ? who was 
 to be persuaded by a gospel sent to thee ? God, or thou ] 
 Who is to be persuaded but the unwilling ? The gospel, 
 as thou hast been told, reveals God willing to be recon- 
 ciled, and thereupon beseeches thee to be reconciled to 
 him. Or could it seem likely to thee thou couldst ever be 
 reconciled to God, and continue unreconciled to thy Re- 
 conciler ? To what pui"pose is there a days-man, a middle 
 person between God and thee, if thou wilt not meet him 
 in that middle person ? Dost thou not know that Christ 
 avails thee nothing if thou still stand at a distance with 
 him, if thou dost not unite and adjoin thyself to him, or 
 art not in him ? And dost thon not again know that di- 
 vine power and gi-ace must unite thee to him ? and that a 
 \A'ork must be wrought and done upon thy soul by an 
 Alm.ighty hand, by God himself, a mighty transforming 
 work, to make thee capable of that union ] (2 Cor. v. 17) 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 37 
 
 that whosoever is in Christ is a new creature 1 (1 Cor. i. 30) 
 that thou must be of God in Christ Jesus, Avho then is 
 made unto thee of God also wisdom, righteousness, sanctifi- 
 cation, and redemption ; every way answering the exi- 
 gency of thy case, as thou art a foolish, guilty, impure, 
 ai\d enslaved, or lost creature ? Didst thou never hear, 
 that none can come to Christ but whom the Father draws ? 
 and that he draws the reasonable souls of men not violently 
 or against their wills (he draws, yet drags them not), but 
 makes them willing in the day of power, by giving a new 
 nature and new inclinations to them ? 'Tis sure with thee 
 not dark night, not a dubious twilight, but broad day as 
 to all this. 
 
 Yes, perhaps thou mayst say, but this makes my case 
 the worse, not the better ; for it gives me at length to un- 
 derstand that what is necessary to my peace and welfare 
 is impossible to me ; and so the light of my day doth but 
 serve to let me see myself miserable and undone, and that 
 I have nothing to do to relieve and help myself. I there- 
 fore add, 
 
 6. That by being under the gospel, men nave not only 
 light to understand whatsoever is any way necessary to 
 their peace, but opportunity to obtain that communication 
 of divine power and grace whereby to comply with the 
 tenns of it. Whereupon, if this be made good, you have 
 not a pretence left you to say your case is the worse, or that 
 you receive any prejudice by what tlie gospel reveals of 
 your own impotency to relieve and help yourselves ; or 
 determines touching the terms of your peace and salvation, 
 making such things necessary thereto, as are to you impos- 
 sible, and out of your own present power, unless it be a 
 prejudice to you not to have your pride gratified ; and that 
 God hath pitched upon such a method for your salvation, 
 as shall wholly turn to the praise of the glory of his grace, 
 or that you are to be of him (1 Cor. i. 30, 31) in Christ 
 Jesus — that whosoever glories might glory in the Lord. 
 Is it for a sinner that hath deserved, and is ready to perish, 
 to insist upon being saved with reputation ? or to envy the 
 
38 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 great God, upon whose pleasure it wholly depends whether 
 he shall he saved or not saved, the entire glory of saving 
 him ? For otherwise, excepting the mere business of glory 
 and reputation ; is it not all one to you whether you have 
 the power in your owti hands of changing your hearts, of 
 being the authors to yourselves of that holy, new nature, 
 out of which actual faith and repentance are to spring, or 
 whether you may have it fi-om the God of all grace, flowing 
 to you from its own proper divine fountain 1 Your case is not 
 sure really the worse that your salvation from first to last 
 is to be all of grace, and that it is impossible to you to re- 
 pent and believe, while it is not simply impossible ; but 
 that he can effectually enable you thereto, imto whom all 
 things are possible ; supposing that he will : whereof by 
 and by. Nay, and it is more glorious and honourable, even 
 to you, if you understand yourselves, that your case is so 
 stated as it is. The gospel indeed plainly tells you that 
 your repentance must be given you. Christ " is exalted 
 to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and re- 
 mission of sins." And so must your faith, and that frame 
 of spirit which is the principle of all good works. By grace 
 ye are saved, through faith, not of yourselves, it is the gift 
 of God : not of works, lest any man should boast ; for we 
 are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good 
 works, which God hath before ordained that we should 
 walk in them, Ephes. ii. 8-10. Is it more glorious to 
 have nothing in you but what is self-sprung, than to have 
 your souls the seat and receptacle of divine communica- 
 tions ; of so excellent things as could have no other than 
 a heavenly original ? If it were not absurd and impos- 
 sible you should be self-begotten, is it not much more 
 glorious to be born of God ? As they are said to be that 
 receive Christ, John i. 12, 13. But as many as received 
 him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, 
 even to them that believe on his name : which were born, 
 not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of 
 man, but of God. 
 And now that, by being under the gospel, you have the 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 39 
 
 opportunity of getting that grace, which is necessary to 
 your peace and salvation ; you may see, if you consider 
 what the gospel is, and was designed for. It is the minis- 
 tration of the Spirit ; that Spirit by which you are to be 
 born again, John iii. 3, 5, 6. The work of regeneration 
 consists in the impregnating, and making lively and effica- 
 cious, in you the holy truths contained in the gospel. Of his 
 o^^^l good will begat he us with the word of truth, that we 
 should be a kind of first-fruits of his creatures, James i. 18. 
 And again, being bom again, not of corruptible seed, but 
 of incorruptible, by the word of God, 1 Pet. i. 23. So our 
 Saviour prays : Sanctify them through thy truth, thy word 
 is truth, John xvii. 17. The gospel is, upon this account, 
 called the word of life, Phil. ii. 16, as by which the prin- 
 ciples of that divine and holy life are implanted in the soul, 
 whereby we live to God, do what his gospel requires, and 
 hath made our duty, and that ends at length in eternal life. 
 But you will say. Shall all, then, that live under the gospel 
 obtain this grace and holy life ? Or if they shall not, or, if 
 so far as can be collected, multitudes do not, or, perhaps, 
 in some places that enjoy the gospel, very few do, in com- 
 parison of them that do not, what am I better 1 when, per- 
 haps, it is far more likely that I shall perish notwithstand- 
 ing, than be saved ? In answer to this, it must be acknow- 
 ledged, that all that live under the gospel do not obtain 
 life and saving grace by it. For then there had been no 
 occasion for this lamentation of our blessed Lord over the 
 perishing inhabitants of Jerusalem, as having lost their 
 day, and that the things of their peace were now hid from 
 their eyes ; and by that instance it appears too possible, 
 that even the generality of a people living under the gospel 
 may fall at length into the like forlorn and hopeless con- 
 dition. But art thou a man that thus objectest ? A rea- 
 sonable understanding creature ? Or dost thou use the 
 reason and understanding of a man in objecting thus ? 
 Didst thou expect, that when thine own wilful transgres- 
 sion had made thee liable to eternal death and wrath, peace, 
 and life, and salvation should be imposed upon thee whether 
 
i¥^- 
 
 40 THE redeemer's TEARS 
 
 thou wouldst or no, or notwithstanding thy most wilful 
 neglect and contempt of them, and all the means of them ? 
 Could it enter into thy mind, that a reasonable soul should 
 be wrought and framed for that high and blessed end, 
 whereof it is radically capable, as a stock or a stone is for 
 any use it is designed for, without designing its own end 
 or way to it ? Couldst thou think the gospel was to bring 
 thee to faith and repentance, whether thou didst hear it or 
 no ? or ever apply thy mind to consider the meaning of it, 
 and what it did propose and offer to thee 1 or when thou 
 mightest so easily understand that the grace of God was 
 necessary to make it effectual to thee, and that it might 
 become his power (or the instrument of his power) to thy 
 salvation, couldst thou think it concerned thee not to sue 
 and supplicate to him for that grace, when thy life lay 
 upon it, and thy eternal hope ? Hast thou lain weltering 
 at the footstool of the throne of grace in thine own tears 
 (as thou hast been formerly weltering in thy sins and im- 
 purities), crying for grace to help thee in this time of thy 
 need 1 And if thou thinkest this was above thee and with- 
 out thy compass, hast thou done all that was within thy 
 compass in order to the obtaining of grace at God's hands ? 
 But here, perhaps, thou wilt inquire, Is there any thing, 
 then, to be done by us whereupon the grace of God may 
 be expected certainly to follow ? To which I answer, 
 
 1. That it is out of question nothing can be done by us 
 to deserve it, or /or which we may expect it to follow. It 
 were not gra^e if we had obliged, or brought it, by our 
 desert, under former preventive bonds to us. And, 
 
 2. What if nothing can be done by us upo7i which it may 
 be certainly expected to follow % Is a certainty of perish- 
 ing better than a high probability of being saved ? 
 
 3. Such as live under the gospel have reason to appre- 
 hend it highly probable they may obtain that grasce which 
 is necessary to their salvation, if they be not wanting to 
 themselves. For, 
 
 4. There is generally afforded to such that which is 
 wont to be called common gi-ace. I speak not of any 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 41 
 
 further extent of it, 'tis enough to our present purpose that 
 it extends so far, as to them that live under the gospel, 
 and have therehy a day allowed them wherein to provide 
 for their peace. Now, though this grace is not yet cer- 
 tainly saving, yet it tends to that which is so. And none 
 have cause to despair, but that being duly improved and 
 complied with, it may end in it. 
 
 And this is that which requires to be insisted on, and 
 more fully evinced. In order whereto let it be considered, 
 that it is expressly said to such, they are to work out their 
 sahation with fear and trembling, for this reason, that God 
 works (or is working icnv 6 snpywv) in them, i. e., statedly 
 and continually at work, or is always ready to work in 
 them, to will and to do of his ovm good pleasure, Phil, 
 ii. 12, 13. The matter fails not on his pail. He will 
 work on in order to their salvation, if they work in that 
 way of subordinate co-operation, which his command, and 
 the necessity of their own case, oblige them unto. And it 
 is further to be considered, that where God had formerly 
 afforded the symbols of his gracious presence, given his 
 oracles, and settled his church, though yet in its nonage, 
 and much more imperfect state, there he, however, com- 
 municated those influences of his Spirit, that it was to be 
 imputed to themselves if they came short of the saving 
 operations of it. Of such it was said. Thou gavest thy 
 good Spirit to instruct them, Nehem. ix. 20. And to 
 such. Turn ye at my reproof, I will pour out my Spirit 
 unto you, I will make known my words unto you. 
 Because I called and you refused, I stretched out my 
 hand and no man regarded, but ye set at nought my 
 counsel, and despised all my reproof, I also will laugh at 
 your calamity, &c., Prov. i. 23, 24. We see whence their 
 destniction came ; not from God's first restraint of his 
 Spirit, but their refusing, despising, and setting at nought 
 his counsels and reproofs. And when it is said, they re- 
 belled and vexed his Spirit, and he therefore turned and 
 fought against them, and became their enemy, Isa. Ixiii. 
 10, it appears, that before his Spirit was not withheld, 
 
42 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 but did variously, and often, make essays and attempts 
 upon them. And when Stephen, immediately before his 
 martyrdom, thus bespeaks the descendants of these Jews, 
 Ye stiff-necked, and uncircumcised, — ye do always resist 
 the Holy Ghost, as your fathers did, so do ye. Acts vii., 
 'tis implied the Holy Ghost had been always striving 
 from age to age with that stubborn people : for where there 
 is no counter-striving there can be no resistance, no more 
 than there can be a war on one side only. Which also 
 appears to have been the course of God's dealing with the 
 old world, before their so general lapse into idolatry and 
 sensual wickedness, from that passage, Gen. vi. 3, ac- 
 cording to the more common reading and sense of those 
 words. 
 
 Now whereas the gospel is eminently said to be the 
 ministration of the Spirit in contradistinction not only to 
 the natural religion of other nations, but the divinely in- 
 stituted religion of the Jews also, as is largely discoursed, 
 2 Cor. iii., and more largely through the Epistle to the Ga- 
 latians, especially chap. iv. ; and whereas we find that, in the 
 Jewish church, the Holy Ghost did generally diffuse its 
 influences, and not otherwise withhold them, than penally, 
 and upon great provocation ; how much more may it be 
 concluded, that under the gospel, the same blessed Spirit is 
 very generally at work upon the souls of men, till by their 
 resisting, grieving, and quenching of it, they provoke it to 
 retire and withdraw from them. 
 
 And let the consciences of men living under the gospel 
 testify in the case. Appeal sinner to thine own conscience ; 
 Hast thou never felt any thing of conviction, by the word 
 of God ? hadst thou never any thought injected of turning 
 to God, of reforming thy life, of making thy peace 1 have 
 no desires ever been raised in thee, no fears ? hast thou 
 never had any tastes and relishes of pleasure in the things 
 of God ? whence have these come ? What ! from thyself, 
 who art not sufficient to think any thing as of thyself 1 i. e. 
 not any good or right thought. All must be from that 
 good Spirit that hath been striving with thee ; and might 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 43 
 
 still have been so unto a blessed issue for thy soul, if thou 
 hadst not neglected and disobeyed it. 
 
 And do not go about to excuse thyself by saying, that 
 so all others have done too, 'tis like, at one time or other ; 
 and if that therefore be the rule and measure, that they 
 that contend against the strivings and motions of God's 
 Spirit must be finally deserted and given up to perish, 
 ■who then can be saved 1 Think not of pleading so for thy 
 neglecting and despising the grace and Spirit of God. 'Tis 
 true that herein the great God shews his sovereignty : 
 when all that enjoy the same advantages for salvation de- 
 serve by their slighting them to be forsaken alike ; he gives 
 instances and makes examples of just severity, and of the 
 victorious power of grace, as seems him good, which there 
 will be further occasion to speak more of hereafter. In the 
 mean time the present design is not to justify thy condem- 
 nation but procure thy salvation, and therefore to admon- 
 ish and instruct thee, that, though thou art not sure, because 
 some others that have slighted and despised the grace and 
 Spirit of God are notwithstanding conquered and saved 
 thereby, it shall therefore fare as well with thee ; yet thou 
 hast reason to be confident, it will be well and happy for 
 thee, if now thou despise and slight them not. And whether 
 thou do or not, it is however plain, that by being under the 
 gospel thou hast had a day, wherein to mind the things of 
 thy peace, though it is not told thee it would last always, 
 but the contrary is presently to be told thee. 
 
 And thou mayst now see 'tis not only a day in respect 
 of liffht but influence also ; that thou mightest not only 
 know notionally what belonged thereto, but efficaciously 
 and practically ; which you have heard is the knowledge 
 here meant. And the concurrence of such light and influ- 
 ence has made thee a season wherein thou wast to have 
 been at work for thy soul. The day is the proper season 
 for work : when tlie night comes working ceases, botli be- 
 cause that then light fails, and because drowsiness and sloth 
 are more apt to possess men. And the night will come. 
 For (which is the next thing we have to speak to), 
 
44 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 III, This day hath its bounds and limits, so that when 
 it is over and lost with such, the things of their peace are 
 for ever hid from their eyes. And that this day is not in- 
 finite and endless, we see in the present instance. Jeru- 
 salem had her day ; but that day had its period, we see it 
 comes to this at last, that now the things of her peace are 
 hid from her eyes. We generally see the same thing, in 
 that sinners are so earnestly pressed to make use of the 
 present time. To-day if you will hear his voice, harden 
 not your hearts, Psal. xcv, quoted and urged Heb. iii, 7, 8. 
 They are admonished to seek the Lord while he may be 
 found, to call upon him while he is nigh, Isa. Iv. It 
 seems some time he will not be found, and will be afar off. 
 They are told this is the accepted time, this is the day of 
 salvation, Isa. xlix. ; 2 Cor, vi. 
 
 This day, with any place or people, supposes a prece- 
 dent night, when the day-spring fi'om on high had not 
 visited their horizon, and all within it sat in darkness, and 
 in the region and shadow of death. Yea, and there was a 
 time, we know, of very general darkness, when the gospel 
 day, " the day of visitation," had not yet dawned upon 
 the world ; " times of ignorance," wherein God as it w-ere 
 winked upon the nations of the earth ; the beams of his 
 eye did in a sort overshoot them, as the word b'^rz^ibchv im- 
 ports. But when the eyelids of the morning open upon 
 any people, and light shines to them with direct beams, 
 they are ')iow commanded to repent (Acts, xvii. 30), limited 
 to the present point of time with such peremptoriness, as 
 that noble Roman used towards a proud prince, asking 
 time to deliberate upon the proposal made to him of Avith- 
 drawing his forces that molested some of the allies of that 
 state ; he draws a line about him with the end of his rod, 
 and requires him now, out of hand, before he stirred out 
 of that circle, to make his choice, wliether he would be a 
 fi'iend or enemy to the people of Rome. So are sinners to 
 understand the state of tlieir own case. The God of thy 
 life, sinner, in whose hands thy times are, doth with much 
 higher right limit thee to the present time, and expects 
 
AVEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 45 
 
 thy present answer to his just and merciful offers and de- 
 mands. He circumscribes thy day of grace ; it is enclosed 
 on both parts, and hath an evening as well as morning ; 
 as it had a foregoing, so hath it a subsequent night, and 
 the latt«r, if not more dark, yet usually much more stormy 
 than the former ! For God shuts up this day in much dis- 
 pleasure, which hath terrible effects. If it be not expressly 
 told you what the condition of that night is that follows your 
 gospel day ; if the watchman being asked, " What of the 
 night 1" do only answer it cometh as well as the morning 
 came ; black events are signified by that more awful silence. 
 Or, 'tis all one if you call it a do.y ; there is enough to dis- 
 tinguish it from the day of grace. The Scriptures call such 
 a calamitous season indifferently either by the name of night 
 or day ; but the latter name is used with some or other 
 adjunct, to signify day is not meant in the pleasant or more 
 grateful sense : a day of ^\Tath, an evil day, a day of gloomi- 
 ness and thick darkness, not differing from the most dismal 
 night ; and to be told the morning of such a day is coming, 
 is all one, as that the evening is coming of a bright and a 
 serene day. 
 
 And here perhaps, reader, thou will expect to be told 
 ■what are the limits of this day of grace. It is indeed much 
 more difficult punctually to assign those limits, than to as- 
 certain thee there are such ; but it is also less necessary. 
 The wise and merciful God doth in matters of this nature 
 little mind to gi'atify our curiosity ; much less is it to be 
 expected from him, that he should make known to us such 
 things, whereof it were better we were ignorant, or the 
 knowledge whereof would be much more a prejudice to us 
 than an advantage. And it were as bold and rash an un- 
 dertaking, in this case, as it would be vain and insignificant, 
 for any man to take on him to say, in it, what God hath 
 not said, or given him plain ground for. What I conceive 
 to be plain and useful in this matter I shall lay down in 
 the following propositions, insisting more largely where the 
 matter requires it, and contenting myself but to mention 
 what is obvious, and clear at the first sight. 
 
46 THE REDEEME]1*S TEARS 
 
 1. That there is a great difference between the ends and 
 limits of the day or season of grace as to particular persons, 
 and in reference to the collective body of a people, inhabit- 
 ing this or that place. It may be over with such or such 
 a place, so as that they that dwell there shall no longer 
 have the gospel among them, when as yet it may not be 
 over with every particular person belonging to it, who may 
 be providentially cast elsewhere, or may have the " in- 
 grafted word" in them, which they lose not. And again, it 
 may be over with some particular persons in such a place, 
 when it is not yet over with that people or place, generally 
 considered. 
 
 2. As to both there is a difference between the ending 
 of such a day, and intermissions, or dark intervals, that 
 may be in it. The gospel may be withdrawn from such a 
 people, and be restored. And God often, no doubt, as to 
 particular persons, either deprives them of the outward 
 means of grace for a time (by sickness, or many other ways), 
 or may for a time forbear moving upon them by his Spirit, 
 and again try them with both. 
 
 3. As to particular persons, there may be much differ- 
 ence between such as, while they lived under the gospel, 
 gained the knowledge of the principal doctrines, or of the 
 sum or substance, of Christianity, though without any 
 sanctifying effect or impression upon their hearts, and such 
 as, through their ovra. negligence, lived under it in total 
 ignorance hereof. The day of grace may not be over with 
 the former, though they should never live under the ministry 
 of the gospel more. For it is possible, while they have the 
 seeds and principles of holy truth laid up in their minds, 
 God may graciously administer to them many occasions of 
 recollecting and considering them, wherewith he may so 
 please to co-operate, as to enliven them, and make them 
 vital and effectual to their final salvation. Whereas, with 
 the other sort, when they no more enjoy the external means, 
 the day of grace is like to be quite over, so as that there 
 may be no more hope in their case than in that of pagans 
 in the darkest parts of the world ; and perhaps much less, 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 47 
 
 as their guilt hatli been much greater by their neglect of so 
 great and important things. It may be better with Tyre 
 and Sidon, &c. 
 
 4. That yet it is a terrible judgment to the most know- 
 ing, to lose the external dispensation of the gospel, while 
 they have yet no sanctifying impression upon their hearts 
 by it, and they are cast upon a fearful hazard of being lost 
 for ever, being left by the departed gospel in an uncon- 
 verted state. For they need the most urgent inculcations 
 of gospel truths, and the most powerful enforcing means, 
 to engage them to consider the things which they know. 
 It is the design of the gospel to beget not only light in 
 the mind, but grace in the heart. And if that were not 
 done while they enjoyed such means, it is less likely to be 
 done without them. And if any slighter and more super- 
 ficial impressions were made upon them thereby, short of true 
 and thorough conversion, how great is the danger that all 
 will vanish, when they cease to be pressed and urged, and 
 called upon by the public voice of the gospel-ministry any 
 more. How naturally desident is the spirit of man, and 
 apt to sink into deadness, worldliness, and carnality, even 
 under the most lively and quickening means ; and even 
 where a saving work hath been wrought ! how much more 
 when those means fail, and there is no vital principle 
 within, capable of self-excitation and improvement ! 
 that they would considei- this, who have got nothing by the 
 gospel all this while, but a little cold, spiritless, notional, 
 knowledge, and are in a possibility of losing it before they 
 get any thing more ! 
 
 5. That as it is certain, death ends the day of grace with 
 every unconverted person, so it is very possible it may end 
 with divers before they die ; by their total loss of all ex- 
 ternal means, or by the departure of the blessed Spirit of 
 God from them, so as to return and visit them no more. 
 How the day of grace may end with a person, is to be 
 understood by considering what it is that makes up and 
 constitutes such a day. There must be some measure and 
 
48 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 propoi-tion of time to make up this (or any) day, which is 
 as the substratum and ground forelaid. Then there must 
 be light superadded, otherwise it differs not from night, 
 which may liaA'e the same measure of mere time. The 
 gospel-revelation some way or other must he had, as being 
 the light of such a day. And again there must be some 
 degree of liveliness, and vital influence, the more usual 
 concomitant of light ; the night doth more dispose men to 
 drowsiness. The same sun that enlightens the world, dis- 
 seminates also an invigorating influence. If the Spirit of the 
 living God do no way animate the gospel-revelation, and 
 breathe in it, we have no day of grace. It is not only a day 
 of light, but a day of power, wherein souls can be wrought 
 upon, and a people made willing to become the Lord's, 
 Psal. ex. As the Redeemer revealed in the gospel is the 
 light of the world, so he is life to it too, though neither are 
 planted or do take root every where. In him was life, 
 and that life was the light of men. That light that rays 
 from him is vital light in itself, and in its tendency and 
 design, though it be disliked and not entertained by the 
 most. 
 
 Whereas therefore these things must concur to make up 
 such a day : if either a man's time, his life on earth, expire, 
 or if light quite fail him, or if all gracious influence be 
 withheld, so as to be communicated no more ; his day is 
 done, the season of grace is over with him. Now it is 
 plain, that many a one may lose the gospel before his life 
 end ; and possible that all gracious influence may be 
 restrained, while as yet the external dispensation of the 
 gospel remains. A sinner may have hardened his heart to 
 that degree, that God will attempt him no more, in any 
 kind, with any design of kindness to him, not in that more 
 inward, immediate way at all, i. e. by the motions of his 
 Spirit, which peculiarly can import nothing but friendly 
 inclination, as whereby men are personally applied unto, 
 so that cannot be meant ; nor by the voice of the gospel, 
 which may either be continued for the sake of others, or 
 they continued under it, but for their heavier doom at 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 49 
 
 length. Which though it may seem severe, is not to be 
 thought strange, much less unrigliteous. 
 
 It is not to be thought strange to them that read the 
 Bible, which so often speaks this sense : as when it warns 
 and threatens men with so much terror, as Heb. x. 26-29. 
 For if we sin wilfully after that we have received the 
 knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice 
 for sins, but a fearful looking for of judgment, and fiery 
 indignation, which shall devour the adversaries. He 
 that despised JNIoses' law, died without mercy, under two 
 or three witnesses : of how much sorer punishment, sup- 
 pose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden 
 under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of 
 the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, 
 and hath done desjnte unto the Spirit of grace ? And when 
 it tells us, after many overtures made to men in vain, of 
 his having given them up, &c. Psal. Ixxxi. 11, 12. But 
 my people would not hearken to my voice ; and Israel 
 would none of me ; so I gave them up unto their o\vn 
 heart's lust ; and they walked in their own counsels : and 
 pronounces, Let him that is unjust, be unjust still, and let 
 him which is filthy, be filthy still, Rev. xxii. 11, and says, 
 In thy filthiness is lewdness, because I have purged thee 
 and tliou wast not pm-ged ; thou shalt not be purged from 
 thy filthiness any more, till I have caused my fury to rest 
 upon thee, Ezek. xxiv. 13, Which passages seem to imply 
 a total desertion of them, and retraction of all gracious 
 influence. And when it speaks of letting them be under 
 the gospel, and the ordinary means of salvation, for the 
 most direful purposes : as that. This child (Jesus) was set 
 for the fall, as well as for the rising, of many in Israel, 
 Luke, ii, 34, As to which text the very learned Grotius, 
 glossing upon the words xeTrai and £/'; rrr^crtv, says. Accede 
 lis qui non necdum eventum, sed et consilium, that he is of 
 their ojnnion who think not that the naked event, hut the 
 counsel or purpose of God, is signified bi/ it, the same u-itk 
 ridiTai ; and alleges several texts where the active of that 
 verb must have the same sense, as to appoint or ordain ; 
 
50 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 and mentions divers other places of the same import with 
 this so understood ; and which therefore to recite will 
 equally serve our present purpose ; as that, Rom. ix. 33. 
 Behold, I lay in Zion a stumbling stone, and rock of 
 offence. And 1 Pet. ii. 8. The stone which the builders 
 refused, is made a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence, 
 even to them which stumble at the word, being disobedient, 
 whereunto also they were appointed. With that of our 
 Saviour himself, John, ix. 39. For judgment I am come 
 into this world, that they which see not might see ; and 
 that they which see, might be made blind. And most agree- 
 able to those former places is that of the prophet Isaiah, 
 xxviii. 13. But the word of the Lord was unto them pre- 
 cept upon precept, precept upon precept, line upon line, 
 line upon line, here a little and there a little ; that they 
 might go, and fall backward, and be broken, and snared, 
 and taken. And we may add, that our Lord hath put us 
 out of doubt that there is such a sin as that which is emi- 
 nently called the sin against the Holy Ghost ; that a man 
 may, in such circumstances, and to such a degree, sin 
 against that blessed Spirit, that he w^ill never move or 
 breathe upon them more, but leave them to a hopeless 
 ruin ; though I shall not in this discourse determine or 
 discuss the nature of it. But I doubt not it is somewhat 
 else than final impenitency and infidelity ; and that every 
 one that dies, not having sincerely repented and believed, 
 is not guilty of it, though every one that is guilty of it, 
 dies impenitent and unbelieving, but was guilty of it be- 
 fore ; so as it is not the mere want of time, that makes him 
 guilty. Whereupon therefore, that such may outlive their 
 day of grace, is out of question. 
 
 But let not such, as, upon the descriptions the gospel 
 gives us of that sin, may be justly confident they have not 
 p'-.rhaps committed it, therefore think themselves out of 
 danger of losing their season of making their peace with 
 God before they die. Many a one may, no doubt, that 
 never committed the unpardonable blasphemy against the 
 Holy Ghost, as he is the witness, by his wonderful works, 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 51 
 
 of Christ being the Messiah. As one may die, by neglect- 
 ing himself, that doth not poison himself, or cut his own 
 throat. You will say, " But if the Spirit retire from men, 
 so as never to return, where is the difference V I answer, 
 the difference lies in the s]yecific nature and greater heinous- 
 ness of that sin, and consequently, in the deeper degrees of 
 its punishment. For though the reason of its unpardon- 
 ableness lies not principally in its greater heinousness, 
 but in its direct repugnancy to the way of obtaining par- 
 don, yet there is no doubt of its being much more heinous 
 than many other sins for which men perish. And there- 
 fore 'tis in proportion more severely punished. But is it 
 not misery enough to dwell in darkness and woe for ever, 
 as every one that dies unreconciled to God must do, unless 
 the most intense flames and horror of hell be your portion ? 
 As his case is sufficiently bad that must die as an ordinary 
 felon, though he is not to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. 
 Nor is there any place or pretence for so profane a 
 thought, as if there were any colour of unrighteousness in 
 this course of procedure with such men. Is it unjust 
 severity to let the gospel become deadly to them whose 
 malignity perverts it, against its nature, and genuine 
 tendency, into a savour of death (as 2 Cor. ii. 16), which 
 it is ro7g wrroKXv/j.svoig^ i. e. to them (as the mentioned 
 author speaks) who may be ti-uly said to seek their owti 
 destruction ? or that God should intend their more aggravated 
 condemnation, even from the despised gospel itself, who, 
 when such light is come into the world, hate it, shew them- 
 selves lucifitgce, tetiebriones (as he also phrases it, speaking 
 further upon that first mentioned text), such asjlyfrom the 
 light, choose and love to lurk in darkness I He must have 
 very low thoughts of divine favour and acceptance, of Christ, 
 and grace, and glory, that can have hard thoughts of God, 
 for his vindicating, with greatest severity, the contempt of 
 such things. What could better become his glorious 
 majesty, and excellent greatness, than, as all things work 
 together for good towards them that love him, so to let all 
 things work for the liurt of them that so irreconcilably hate 
 
52 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 him, and bear a disaffected and implacable mind towards 
 him ? Nor doth the addition of his designing the matter so, 
 make it hard. For if it be just to pmiish such wickedness, 
 is it unjust to intend to punish it ? and to intend to punish 
 it according to its desert, when it cannot be thought unjust 
 actually to render to men what they deserve ? 
 
 We are, indeed, to account the primary intention of con- 
 tinuing the gospel to such a people, among whom these 
 live, is kindness towards others, not this higher revenge 
 upon them ; yet nothing hinders but that this revenge 
 upon them, may also be the fit matter of his secondary 
 intention. For should he intend nothing concerning them 1 
 Is he to be so unconcerned about his own creatures that 
 are under his government ? While things cannot fall out 
 to him unawares, but that he hath this dismal event in 
 prospect before him, he must at least intend to let it be, or 
 not to hinder it. And who can expect he should ? For, 
 that his gracious influence towards them should at length 
 cease, is above all exception : that it ceasing, while they 
 live still under the gospel, they contract deeper guilt, and 
 incur heavier punishment, follows of course. And who 
 can say he should not intend to let it follow ] For should 
 he take away the gospel from the rest, that these might be 
 less punished ? that others might not be saved, because 
 they will not ? 
 
 Nor can he be obliged to interpose extraordinarily, and 
 alter for their sakes the course of nature and providence, 
 so as either to hasten them the sooner out of the world, or 
 cast them into any other part of it, where the gospel is 
 not, lest they should, by living still under it, be obnoxious 
 to the severer punishment. For whither would this lead ? 
 He should, by equal reason, have been obliged to prevent 
 men's sinning at all, that they might not be liable to any 
 punishment. And so not to have made the world, or have 
 otherwise fi-amed the methods of his government, and less 
 suitably to a whole community of reasonable creatures ; 
 or to have made an end of the world long ago, and have 
 quitted all his great designs in it, lest some should sin on, 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 53 
 
 and incur proportionable punishment ! or to have provided 
 extraordinarily that all should do and fare alike ; and that 
 it might never have come to pass, that it should he less 
 tolerable for Capernaum, and Chorazin, and Bethsaida, 
 than for Tyre, and Sidon, and Sodom, and Gomorrah. But 
 is there unrigliteousness with God ? or is he unrighteous 
 in taking vengeance ? or is he therefore unjust, because he 
 will render to every one according to his works ; to them 
 who, by patient continuance in well doing, seek glory, 
 honour, and immortality, eternal life ; but unto them that 
 are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey 
 unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, tribulation and 
 anguish upon every soul of man that doth evil, of the Jew- 
 first, and also of the Gentile 1 Rom. ii. 6-9. Doth right- 
 eousness itself make him unrighteous ? sinner, under- 
 stand how much better it is to avoid the stroke of divine 
 justice than accuse it ! God will be found true, and every 
 man a liar, that he may be justified when he speaks, and 
 be clear when he judges, Psal. li. 4. 
 
 6. Yet are we not to imagine any certain fixed rule, 
 according whereto (except in the case of the unpardonable 
 sin) the divine dispensation is measured in cases of this 
 nature : viz. That, when a sinner hath contended just so 
 long, or to such a degree, against his grace and Spirit in 
 his gospel, he shall be finally rejected ; or if but so long, 
 or not to such a degree, he is yet certainly to be further 
 tried, or treated with. It is little to be doubted, but he 
 puts forth the power of victorious grace, at length, upon 
 some more obstinate and obdurate sinners, and that have 
 longer persisted in their rebellions (not having sinned 
 the unpardonable sin), and gives over some sooner, as it 
 seems good unto him. Nor doth he herein owe an account 
 to any man of his matters. Here sovereign good pleasure 
 rules and arbitrates, tliat is tied to no certain rule. Neither, 
 in these variations, is there any shew of that blameable 
 'Tr^oauTToXri'^ia or accepting of j)^^sons^ wliich, in liis own 
 word, he so expressly disclaims. We must distinguish 
 matters of right (even such as are so by promise only, as 
 
54 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 well as others), and matters of mere nnpromised favour. 
 In matters of right, to be an accepter of persons, is a thing 
 most highly culpable with men, and which can have no 
 place with the holy God : i. e. when a human judge hath 
 his rule before him, according whereto he is to estimate 
 men's rights, in judgment ; there, to regard the person of 
 the rich, or of the poor, to the prejudice of the justice of 
 the cause, were an insufferable iniquity ; as it were also in 
 a private person to withhold another's right, because he 
 hath no kindness for him. So even the great God himself, 
 though of mere grace he first fixed and established the 
 rule (fitly therefore called the covenant, or law of grace), 
 by which he will proceed in pardoning and justifying men, 
 or in condemning and holding them guilty, both here 
 and in the final judgment ; yet having fixed it, he will 
 never recede from it ; so as either to acquit an impenitent 
 unbeliever, or condemn a believing penitent. If we con- 
 fess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive. None shall 
 be ever able to accuse him of breach of faith, or of trans- 
 gressing his owTi rules of justice. We find it therefore 
 said in reference to the judgment of the last day, when 
 God shall render to every man according to his works, 
 whether they be Jews or Gentiles, that there is no respect 
 of persons with God, Rom. ii. 6-11, yet {qui promisit 
 pceiiitenti veniam, non promisit peccanti pcenitentiam) 
 whereas he hath, by his evangelical law, ascertained par- 
 don to one that sincerely obeys it, but hath not promised 
 grace to enable them to do so, to them that have long con- 
 tinued wilfully disobedient and rebellious ; this communi- 
 cation of grace is, therefore, left arbitrary, and to be dis- 
 pensed, as the matter of free and unassured favour, as it 
 seems him good. And indeed, if in matters of arbitrary 
 favour, respect of persons ought to have no place, friendship 
 were quite excluded the world, and would be swallowed up 
 of strict and rigid justice. I ought to 4ake all men for my 
 friends alike, otherwise than as justice should oblige me to 
 be more respectful to men of more merit. 
 
 7, Wherefore no man can certainly krww, or ought to 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOFLS. 65 
 
 conclude, concerning himself or others, as long as they 
 live, that the season of grace is quite over with them. As 
 we can conceive no rule God hath set to himself to pro- 
 ceed by, in ordinary cases of this nature ; so nor is there 
 any he hath set unto us to judge by, in this case. It were 
 to no pui-pose, and could be of no use to men, to know- 
 so much ; therefore it were unreasonable to expect God 
 should have settled and declared any rule, by which they 
 might come by the knowledge of it. As the case is then, 
 viz. there being no such rule, no such thing can be con- 
 cluded ; for who can tell what an arbitrary, sovereign, free 
 agent will do, if he declare not his own purpose himself ? 
 How should it be known, when the Spirit of God hath 
 been often working upon the soul of a man, that this or 
 that shall be the last act, and that he will never put forth 
 another ? And why should God make it known 1 To the 
 person himself whose case it is, 'tis manifest it could be 
 no benefit. Nor is it to be thought the holy God will 
 ever so alter the course of his o^\^l proceedings, but that 
 it shall finally be seen to all the world, that every man's 
 destruction was, entirely, and to the last, of himself. If 
 God had made it evident to a man, that he were finally 
 rejected, he were obliged to believe it. Bat shall it ever 
 be said, God hath made any thing a man's duty, which 
 were inconsistent with his felicity. The having sinned 
 himself into such a condition wherein he is forsaken of 
 God, is indeed inconsistent with it. And so the case is 
 to stand, i.e. that his perdition be in immediate connexion 
 with his sin, not with his duty. As it would be in imme- 
 diate, necessary connexion with his duty, if he were bound 
 to believe himself finally forsaken, and a lost creature. 
 For that belief makes him hopeless, and a very devil, 
 justifies his unbelief of the gospel, towards himself, by 
 removing and shutting up, towards him, the object of such 
 a faith, and consequently brings the matter to this state, 
 that he perishes,* not because he doth not believe God 
 
 • See more to this purpose in the Appendix. 
 
56 THE llEDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 reconcilable to man, but because, with particular application 
 to himself, he ought not so to believe. 
 
 And it were most unfit, and of very pernicious conse- 
 quence, that such a thing should be generally known con- 
 cerning others. It were to anticipate the final judgment, 
 to create a hell upon earth, to tempt them whose doom 
 were already known, to do all the mischief in the world, 
 which malice ^nd despair can suggest, and prompt them 
 unto ; it were to mingle devils with men ! and fill the 
 world with confusion ! How should parents know how to 
 behave themselves towards children, a husband towards 
 the wife of his bosom in such a case, if it were knowni 
 they were no more to counsel, exhort, admonish them, pray 
 with or for them, than if they were devils ! 
 
 And if there were such a rule, how frequent misappli- 
 cations would the fallible and distempered minds of men 
 make of it ! so that they would be apt to fancy themselves 
 warranted to judge severely, or uncharitably, and (as the 
 truth of the case perhaps is) unjustly concerning others, 
 fi-om which they are so hardly withheld, when they have 
 no such pretence to embolden them to it, but are so strictly 
 forbidden it ; and the judgment-seat so fenced, as it is, by 
 the most awful interdicts against their usurpations and 
 encroachments. We are therefore to reverence the wisdom 
 of the divine government, that things of this nature are 
 among the arcana of it ; some of those secrets which belong 
 not to us. He hath revealed v/hat was fit and necessary 
 for us and our children, and envies to man no useful know- 
 ledge. 
 
 But it may be said, when the apostle (1 John, v. 16) 
 directs to pray for a brother whom we see sinning a sin 
 that is not unto death, and adds, there is a sin unto death, 
 I do not say he shall pray for it ; is it not implied that it 
 may be kno^\^l when one sins that sin unto death, not only 
 to himself, but even to others too ? I answer, it is implied 
 there may be too probable appearances of it, and much 
 ground to suspect and fear it concerning some, in some 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 67 
 
 cases ; as when any against the highest evidence of the 
 truth of the Christian religion, and that Jesus is the Clirist, 
 or the Messiah (the proper and most sufficiently credible 
 testimony whereof, he had mentioned in the foregoing 
 verses, under heads to which the whole evidence of the 
 truth of Christianity may be fitly enough reduced), do 
 notwithstanding, fi'om that malice which blinds their 
 understanding, persist in infidelity, or apostatize and relapse 
 into it from a former profession, there is great cause of 
 suspicion, lest such have sinned that sin unto death. 
 Whereupon yet it is to be observed, he doth not expressly 
 forbid praying for the persons whose case we may doubt ; 
 only he doth not enjoin it, as he doth for others, but only 
 says, I do not say ye shall pray for it, i. e. that in his pre- 
 sent direction to pray for others, he did not intend such, 
 but another sort, for whom they might pray remotely from 
 any such suspicion : viz. that he meant now such praying 
 as ought to be interchanged between Christian friends, that 
 have reason, in the main, to be well persuaded concerning 
 one another. In the mean time intending no opposition 
 to what is elsewhere enjoined, the praying for all men 
 (1 Tim. ii. 1), without the personal exclusion of any, as 
 also our Lord himself prayed indefinitely for his most 
 malicious enemies. Father, forgive them, they know not 
 what they do ; though he had formerly said, there was 
 such a sin as should never be forgiven ; whereof 'tis highly 
 probable some of them were guilty : yet such he doth not 
 expressly except ; but his prayer being in the indefinite, 
 not the universal, form, 'tis to be supposed it must mean 
 such as were within the compass and reach of prayer, and 
 capable of benefit by it. JS'or doth the apostle here direct 
 personally to exclude any, only that indefinitely and in the 
 general such must be supposed not meant as had sinned 
 the sin unto death ; or must be conditionally excluded if 
 tbey had, without determining who had or had not. To 
 which purpose it is very observable, that a more abstract 
 form of expression is used in this latter clause of this verse. 
 For whereas in the former positive part of the direction. 
 
58 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 he enjoins praying for him or them that had not sinned 
 unto death {viz. concerning whom there was no ground for 
 any such imagination or suspicion that they had) ; in the 
 negative part, concerning such as might have sinned it, he 
 doth not say for him or them, but for it {i. e. concerning, 
 in reference to it), as if he had said, the case in general 
 only is to be excepted, and if persons are to be distinguished 
 (since every sin is some one's sin, the sin of some person or 
 other), let God distinguish, but do not you, 'tis enough for 
 you to except the sin, committed by whomsoever. And 
 though the former part of the verse speaks of a particular 
 person, " If a man see his brother sin a sin that is not unto 
 death," which is as determinate to a person as the sight of 
 our eye can be, it doth not follow the latter part must 
 suppose a like particular determination of any person's case, 
 that he hath sinned it. I may have great reason to be 
 confident such and such have not, when I can only suspect 
 that such a one hath. And it is a thing much less un- 
 likely to be certain to oneself than another, for they that 
 have sinned unto death, are no doubt so blinded and stupi- 
 fied by it, that they are not more apt or competent to 
 observe themselves, and consider their case, than others 
 may be. 
 
 8. But though none ought to conclude that their day or 
 season of gi-ace is quite expired, yet they ought deeply to 
 apprehend the danger, lest it should expire before their 
 necessary work be done, and their peace made. For though 
 it can be of no use to them to know the former, and there- 
 fore they have no means appointed them by which to know 
 it, 'tis of great use to apprehend the latter ; and they have 
 sufficient ground for the apprehension. All the cautions 
 and warnings wherewith the Holy Scripture abounds, of 
 the kind with those already mentioned, have that manifest 
 design. And nothing can be more important, or apposite 
 to this purpose, than that solemn charge of the great apostle 
 (Phil. ii. 12), Work out your own salvation with fear and 
 trembling ; considered together with the subjoined ground 
 of it, ver. 13, For it is God that worketh in you to will 
 
■WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 59 
 
 and to do of his own good pleasure. How correspondent 
 is the one with the other ; work, for he works : there were 
 no working at all to any purpose, or with any hope, if he 
 did not work. And work with fear and trembling, for he 
 works of his own good pleasure, q. d. " 'Twere the greatest 
 folly imaginable to trifle with one that works at so perfect 
 liberty, under no obligation, that may desist when he will ; 
 to impose upon so absolutely sovereign and arbitrary an 
 agent, that owes you nothing ; and from whose former 
 gracious operations not complied with, you can draw no 
 argument unto any following ones, that because he doth, 
 therefore he will. As there is no certain connexion be- 
 tween present time and future, but all time is made up of 
 undepending, not strictly coherent, moments, so as no man 
 can be sure, because one now exists, another shall ; there 
 is also no more certain connexion between the arbitrary 
 acts of a free agent within such time ; so that I cannot be 
 sure, because he now darts in light upon me, is now con- 
 vincing me, now awakening me, therefore he will still do 
 so, again and again. Upon this ground, then, what exhor- 
 tation could be more proper than this ? " Work out your 
 salvation with fear and trembling." What could be more 
 awfully monitory, and enforcing of it, than that he works 
 only of mere good will and pleasure 1 How should I tremble 
 to think, if I should be negligent, or undutiful, he may give 
 out the next moment, nay let the work fall, and me perish ! 
 And there is more especial cause for such an apprehension, 
 upon the concurrence of such things as these : — 
 
 1. If the workings of God's Spirit upon the soul of a 
 man have been more than ordinarily strong and urgent, 
 and do now cease : if there have been more powerful con- 
 victions, deeper humiliations, more awakened fears, more 
 formed purposes of a new life, more fervent desires, that 
 are now all vanished and fled, and the sinner is returned 
 to his old dead and dull temper. 
 
 2. If there be no disposition to reflect and consider the 
 diff'erence, no sense of his loss, but he apprehends such 
 
(0 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 workings of spirit in him unnecessary troubles to him, 
 and thinks it well he is delivered and eased of them. 
 
 3. If in the time when he was under such workings of 
 spirit, he had made kno^^^l his case to his minister, or any- 
 godly friend, whose company he now shuns, as not willing 
 to be put in mind or hear any more of such matters. 
 
 4. If hereupon lie hath more indulged sensual inclina- 
 tion, taken more libei-ty, gone against the checks of his 
 0A\Ti conscience, broken former good resolutions, involved 
 himself in the guilt of any grosser sins. 
 
 5. If conscience, so baffled, be now silent ; lets him alone, 
 grows more sluggish and weaker (which it must) as his 
 lusts grow stronger. 
 
 6. If the same lively powerful ministry, which before 
 affected him much, now moves him not. 
 
 7. If especially he is grown into a dislike of such preach- 
 ing ; if serious godliness, and what tends to it, are become 
 distasteful to him ; if discourses of God, and Christ, of 
 death and judgment, and of a holy life, are reckoned super- 
 fluous and needless, are unsavoury and disrelished ; if he 
 have learned to put disgraceful names upon things of this 
 import, and the persons that most value them, and live 
 accordingly ; if he hath taken the seat of the scomer, and 
 makes it his business to deride what he had once a reve- 
 rence for, or took some complacency in. 
 
 8. If, upon all this, God withdraw such a ministry, so that 
 he is now warned and admonished, exhorted and striven 
 with, as formerly, no more. the fearful danger of that 
 man's case ! Hath he no C8.ase to fear lest the things of 
 his peace should be for ever hid from his eyes ? Surely he 
 hath much cause of fear, but not of despair. Fear would 
 in this case be his great duty, and might yet prove the 
 means of saving him ; despair would be his very heinous 
 and destroying sin. If yet he would be stirred up to con- 
 sider his case, whence he is fallen, and whither he is fall- 
 ing, and set himself to serious seeking of God, cast down 
 himself before him, abuse himself, cry for mercy, as for his 
 life, there is yet hope in his case. God may here show an 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 61 
 
 example of what he can induce himself to do for a perish- 
 ing- wretch ! But, 
 
 IV. If with any that have lived under the gospel, their 
 day is quite expired, and the things of their peace now for 
 ever liid from their eyes, this is in itself a most deplorable 
 case, and much lamented by our Lord Jesus himself. That 
 the case is in itself most deplorable, who sees not ? A soul 
 lost ! a Creature capable of God ! upon its way to him ! 
 near to the kingdom of God ! shipwrecked in the port ! 
 sinner, fi*om how high a hope art thou fallen ! into what 
 depths of misery and woe ! And that it was lamented by 
 our Lord, is in the text. He beheld the city (very gene- 
 rally, we have reason to apprehend, inhabited by such 
 wretched creatures), and wept over it. This was a very 
 affectionate lamentation. We lament often, very heartily, 
 many a sad case, for which we do not shed tears. But 
 tears, such tears, falling from such eyes ! the issues of the 
 purest and best governed passion that ever was, shewed 
 the true greatness of the cause. Here could be no exor- 
 bitancy or unjust excess, nothing more than was propor- 
 tionable to the occasion. There needs no other proof that 
 this is a sad case, than that our Lord lamented it with 
 tears, which that he did, we are plainly told, so that touch- 
 ing that, there is no place for doubt. All that is liable to 
 question is, whether we are to conceive in him any like 
 resentments of such cases, in his present glorified state 1 
 
 Indeed we cannot think heaven a place or state of sad- 
 ness, or lamentation ; and must take lieed of conceiving 
 any thing there, especially on the throne of glory, unsuit- 
 able to the most perfect nature, and the most glorious state. 
 We are not to imagine tears there, which in that happy 
 region are wiped away from inferior eyes ; no grief, sorrow, 
 or sighing, which are all fled away, and shall be no more : 
 as there can be no other turbid passion of any kind. But 
 when expressions that import anger, or grief, are used, 
 even concerning God himself, we must sever in our con- 
 ception every thing of imperfection, and ascribe every thing 
 of real perfection. We are not to think such expressions 
 
62 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 signify nothing, that they have no meaning, or that no- 
 thing at all is to be attributed to him under them. 
 
 Nor are we again to think they signify the same thing 
 with what we find in ourselves, and are wont to express 
 by those names. In the divine nature, there may be real, 
 and yet most serene, complacency and displacency, viz. 
 that are unaccompanied with the least commotion, and 
 import nothing of imperfection, but perfection rather, as it 
 is a perfection to apprehend things suitably to what in 
 themselves they are. The Holy Scriptures frequently speak 
 of God as angry, and grieved for the sins of men, and their 
 miseries which ensue therefrom. And a real aversion and 
 dislike is signified thereby, and by many other expressions, 
 which in us would signify vehement agitations of affec- 
 tion, that we are sure can have no place in him. We ought 
 therefore in ovir own thoughts to ascribe to him that calm 
 aversion of will, in reference to the sins and miseries of 
 men in general ; and, in our own apprehensions, to remove to 
 the utmost distance from him all such agitations of passion 
 or afifection, even though some expressions that occur, carry 
 a great appearance thereof, should they be understood 
 according to human measures, as they are human forms of 
 speech. As, to instance in what is said by the glorious 
 God himself, and very near in sense to what we have in 
 the text, what can be more pathetic, than that lamenting 
 wish, Psal. Ixxxi. 13, that my people had hearkened unto 
 me, and Israel had walked in my ways ! 
 
 But we must take heed lest, under the pretence that we 
 cannot ascribe every thing to God that such expressions 
 seem to import, we therefore ascribe nothing. We ascribe 
 nothing, if we do not ascribe to a real unwillingness that men 
 should sin on, and perish ; and consequently a real willing- 
 ness that they should turn to him and live ; which so 
 many plain texts assert. And therefore it is unavoidably 
 imposed upon us, to believe that God is truly unwilling of 
 some things, which he doth not think fit to interpose his 
 omnipotency to hinder, and is truly willing of some things, 
 which he doth not put forth his omnipotency to effect 
 
WEPT OVER L08T SOULS. 63 
 
 That he most fitly makes this the ordinary course of liis 
 dispensations towards men, to govern them by laws, and 
 promises, and threatenings (made most express to them 
 that live under the gospel), to work upon their minds, their 
 hope, and their fear ; affording them the ordinary assist- 
 ances of supernatural light and influence, with which he 
 requires them to comply, and which, upon their refusing to 
 do so, he may most righteously withhold, and give them 
 the victory to their own ruin ; though oftentimes he doth, 
 fi'om a sovereignty of grace, put forth that greater power 
 upon others, equally negligent and obstinate, not to enforce, 
 but effectually to incline, their wills, and gain a victory 
 over them, to their salvation. 
 
 Nor is his will towards the rest altogether ineffectual, 
 though it have not this effect. For whosoever thou art 
 that livest under the gospel, though thou dost not know 
 that God so wills thy conversion and salvation, as to effect 
 it, whatsoever resistance thou now makest ; though thou 
 art not sure he will finally overcome all thy resistance, and 
 pluck thee as a firebrand out of the mouth of hell ; yet 
 thou canst not say his good will towards thee hath been 
 without any effect at all tending thereto. He hath often 
 called upon thee in his gospel, to repent and turn to him 
 through Christ ; he hath waited on thee with long patience, 
 and given thee time and space of repentance ; he hath 
 within that time been often at work with thy soul. Hath 
 he not many times let in beams of light upon thee ? shewn 
 thee the evil of thy ways ? convinced thee ? awakened 
 thee ? half persuaded thee ? and thou never hadst reason 
 to doubt, but that if thou hadst set thyself with serious 
 diligence to work out thy own salvation, he would have 
 wrought on, so as to have brought things to a blessed issue 
 for thy soul. 
 
 Thou mightest discern his mind towards thee to be agree- 
 able to his word, wherein he hath testified to thee he desired 
 not the death of sinners, that he hath no pleasure in the 
 death of him that dieth, or in the death of the wicked, but 
 that he should turn and live ; exhorted ihee, expostulated 
 
64 THE BEDEEMEKS TEARS \ 
 
 with thee, and others in thy condition, Turn ye, turn ye, 
 why will ye die ? He hath told thee expressly thy stub- 
 bornness, and contending against him, did grieve him, and 
 vex his Spirit ; that thy sin, wherein thou hast indulged 
 thyself, hath been an abomination to him, that it was the 
 abominable thing which his soul hated, that he was broken 
 with tli£ whorish heart of such as thou, and pressed there- 
 with, as a cart that was full of sheaves. 
 
 Now such expressions as these, though they are bor- 
 rowed fi-om man, and must be understood suitably to God, 
 though they do not signify the thing with him as they do 
 in us, yet they do not signify nothing. As when hands 
 and eyes are attributed to God, they do not signify as they 
 do with us, yet they signify somewhat correspondent, as 
 active and visive power : so these expressions, though they 
 signify not, in God, such unquiet motions and passions, 
 as they would in us, they do signify a mind and will, really, 
 though with the most pei-fect calmness and tranquillity, set 
 against sin, and the horrid consequences of it, which yet, 
 for gi-eater reasons than we can understand, he may not 
 see fit to do all he can to prevent. And if we know not 
 how to reconcile such a will in God, with some of our 
 notions concerning the divine nature ; shall we, for what 
 we have thought of him, deny what he hath so expressly 
 said of himself, or pretend to understand his nature better 
 than he himself doth ? * 
 
 And when we see from such express sayings in Scrip- 
 ture, reduced to a sense becoming God, how God's mind 
 stands in reference to sinners, and their self-destroying 
 ways, we may thence apprehend what temper of mind our 
 Lord Jesus also bears towards them in the like case, even 
 in his glorified state. For can you think there is a dis- 
 agreement between him and the Father about these things ? 
 And whereas we find our blessed Lord, in the days of his 
 flesh, one while complaining men would not come to him 
 that they might have life (John, v. 40), elsewhere grieved 
 at the hardness of their hearts (Mark, iii. 6), and here scat- 
 
 * See the Appendix. 
 
•ftKl'T UVEll LOST SOULS. ("5 
 
 tering tears over sinning and perishing Jerusalem ; we can- 
 not doubt but that the (innocent) perturbation, which his 
 earthly state did admit, being severed, his mind is still the 
 same, in reference to cases of the same nature ; for can we 
 think there is any disagreement between him and himself 1 
 We cannot therefore doubt but that, 
 
 1. He distinctly comprehends the truth of any such case. 
 He beholds from the throne of his glory above, all the 
 treaties which are held and managed with sinners in his 
 name, and what their deportments are therein. His eyes 
 are as a flame of fire, wherewith he searches hearts, and 
 trieth reins. He hath seen therefore, sinner, all along, 
 every time an offer of grace hath been made to thee, and 
 been rejected ; when thou hast slighted counsels and warn- 
 ings that hath been given thee, exhortations and entreaties 
 that have been pressed upon thee, for many years together, 
 and how thou hast hardened thy heart against reproofs 
 and threatenings, against promises and allurements ; and 
 beholds the tendency of all this, what is like to come of it, 
 and that, if thou persist, it will be bitterness in the end. 
 
 2. That he hath a real dislike of the sinfulness of thy 
 course. It is not indifferent to him whether thou obeyest, 
 or disobeyest the gospel ; whether thou turn and repent or 
 no ; that he is truly displeased at thy trifling, sloth, negli- 
 gence, impenitency, hardness of heart, stubborn obstinacy, 
 and contempt of his grace, and takes real offence at them. 
 
 3. He hath real kind propensions towards thee, and is 
 ready to receive thy returning soul, and effectually to 
 mediate with the offended Majesty of heaven for thee, as 
 long as there is any hope in thy case. 
 
 4. When he sees there is no hope, he pities thee, while 
 thou seest it not, and dost not pity thyself. Pity and 
 mercy above are not names only ; 'tis a great reality that is 
 signified by them, and that hath place there, in far higher 
 excellency and perfection, than it can with us poor mortals 
 here below. Ours is but borrowed, and participated from 
 that first fountain and original above. Thou dost not 
 perish unlamented, even with the purest heavenly pity, 
 
 E 
 
66 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 though thou hast made thy case incapable of remedy. As 
 the well- tempered judge bewails the sad end of the male- 
 factor, whom justice obliges him not to spare, or save. 
 
 And now let us consider what use is to be made of all 
 this. And though nothing can be useful to the persons 
 themselves, whom the Redeemer thus laments as lost, yet 
 that he doth so, may be of great use to others. 
 
 Use. Which will partly concern those who do justly 
 apprehend this is not their case ; and partly such as may 
 be in great fear that it is. 
 
 I. For such as have reason to persuade themselves it is 
 not their case. The best ground upon which any can con- 
 fidently conclude this, is that they have in this their pre- 
 sent day, through the grace of God, already effectually 
 known the things of their peace, such, viz. as have sincerely, 
 with all their hearts and souls, turned to God, taken him 
 to be their God, and devoted themselves to him, to be his ; 
 intrusting and subjecting themselves to the saving mercy 
 and governing power of the Redeemer, according to the 
 tenor of the gospel-covenant, from which they do not find 
 their hearts to swerve or decline, but resolve, through 
 divine assistance, to persevere herein all their days. Now 
 for such as with whom things are already brought to that 
 comfortable conclusion, I only say to them, 
 
 1. Rejoice and bless God that so it is. Christ your Re- 
 deemer rejoices with you, and over you ; you may collect 
 it from his contrary resentment of their case who are past 
 hope ; if he weep over them, he, no doubt, rejoices over you. 
 There is joy in heaven concerning you. Angels rejoice, 
 your glorious Redeemer presiding in the joyful concert. 
 And should not you rejoice for yourselves ] Consider what 
 a discrimination is made in your case ! To how many hath 
 that gospel been a deadly savour, which hath proved a 
 savour of life unto life to you ! How many have fallen on 
 your right hand and your left, stumbling at the stone of 
 offence, which to you is become the headstone of the comer, 
 elect and precious ! Whence is this difference ? Did you 
 never slight Christ 1 never make light of offered mercy ? 
 
WEPT OYEK LOST SOULS. 67 
 
 was your mind never blind or vain ? was your heart never 
 hard or dead ? were the terms of peace and reconciliation 
 never rejected or disregarded by you ? How should you 
 admire victorious grace, that would never desist from striv- 
 ing with you till it had overcome ! You are the triumph 
 of the Redeemer's conquering love, who might have been 
 of his wrath and justice ! Endeavour your spirits may 
 taste, more and more, the sweetness of reconciliation, that 
 you may more abound in joy and praises. Is it not plea- 
 sant to you to be at peace with God ? to ftnd that all con- 
 troversies are taken up between him and you ? that you 
 can now approach him, and his terrors not make you afraid ] 
 that you can enter into the secret of his presence, and solace 
 yourselves in his assured favour and love ? How should 
 you joy in God through Jesus Christ, by whom you have 
 received the atonement ! What have you now to fear 1 If, 
 when you were ensmies, you were reconciled by the death 
 of Christ, how much more, being reconciled, shall you be 
 saved by his life ? How great a thing have you to oppose 
 to all worldly troubles ! If God be for you, who can be 
 against you 1 Think how mean it is for the friends of God, 
 the favourites of heaven, to be dismayed at the appearances 
 of danger that threaten them from the inhabitants of the 
 earth ! What if all the world were in a posture of hostility 
 against you, when the mighty Lord of all is your friend ? 
 Take heed of thinking meanly of his power and love ; 
 would any one diminish to himself, whom he takes for his 
 God ? All people will walk every one in the name of his 
 god ; why should not you much more in the name of yours, 
 glorying in him, and making your boast of him all the 
 day long ? the reproach which is cast upon the glorious 
 name of the great God, by their diffidence and despondency, 
 who visibly stand in special relation to him, but fear the 
 impotent malice of mortal man more than they can trust 
 in his Almighty love ! If indeed you are justified by faith, 
 and have peace with God, it becomes you so to rejoice in 
 the hope of the glory of God, as also to glory in tribula- 
 tion, and tell all the world that in his favour stands your 
 
68 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 life, and that you care not who is displeased with you for 
 the things where witli, you have reason to apprehend, he is 
 pleased, 
 
 2. Demean yourselves with that care, caution, and duti- 
 fulness that become a state of reconciliation. Bethink 
 yourselves that your present peace and friendship Avith God 
 is not original, and continued from thence, but hath been 
 interrupted and broken ; that your peace is not that of 
 constantly innocent persons. You stand not in this good 
 and happy state because you never offended, but as being 
 reconciled, and who therefore were once enemies. And 
 when you were brought to know, in that your day, which 
 you have enjoyed, the things belonging to your peace, you 
 were made to feel the smart and taste the bitterness of your 
 having been alienated, and enemies in your minds by 
 wicked works. When the terrors of God did beset you 
 round, and his arrows stuck fast in you, did you not then 
 find trouble and sorrow ? were you not in a fearful expec- 
 tation of wrath and fiery indignation to consume and burn 
 you up as adversaries ? Would you not then have given 
 all the world for a peaceful word or look 1 for any glim- 
 mering hope of peace 1 How wary and afraid should you 
 be of a new breach ! How should you study acceptable 
 deportments, and to walk worthy of God unto all well- 
 pleasing ! How strictly careful should you be to keep 
 faith Avith him, and abide stedfast in his covenant ! Hoav 
 concerned for his interest ! and in Avhat agonies of spirit, 
 when you behold the eruptions of enmity against him from 
 any others ! not from any distrust, or fear of final prejudice 
 to his interest, but from the apprehension of the unright- 
 eousness of the thing itself, and a dutiful love to his name, 
 throne, and government. How zealous should you be to 
 draAV in others ! hoAV fervent in your endeavours, Avithin 
 your OAvn sphere, and hoAv large in your desires, extended 
 as far as the sphere of the universe, that every knee might 
 boAV to him, and every tongue confess to him ! They 
 ought to be more deeply concerned for his righteous cause, 
 that remember they were once most unrighteously engaged 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. C9 
 
 against it. And ought besides to be filled with compas- 
 sion towards the souls of men, yet in an unreconciled 
 state, as having known by the terrors of the Lord, and 
 remembering the experienced dismalness and horror of that 
 state, Avhat it was to have divine wrath and justice armed 
 against you with almighty power ! And to have heard 
 the thunder of such a voice, " I lift my hand to heaven, 
 and swear I live for ever, if I whet my glittering sword, 
 and my hand take hold on vengeance, I will recompense 
 fury to mine adversaries, vengeance to mine enemies," — 
 Do you not know what the case is like to l)e, when pot- 
 sherds, that should strive but with the potsherds of the 
 earth, venture ^o oppose themselves as antagonists to om- 
 nipotency ? And when briars and thorns set themselves 
 in battle-an-ay against the consuming fire, how easily it 
 can pass through, and devour, and bum them up together ? 
 And how much more fearful is their condition that know 
 it not ! but are ready to rush like the horse into the battle ! 
 Do you owe no duty, no pity to them that have the same 
 nature with you, and with whom your case was once the 
 same ? If you do indeed know the things of youi* peace 
 God-ward, so as to have made your peace, to have come to 
 an agreement, and struck a covenant with him ; you have 
 now taken his side, are of his confederates ; not as equals 
 but subjects. You have sworn allegiance to him, and 
 associated yourself with all them that have done so. There 
 can hereupon be but one common interest to him and you. 
 Hence therefore you are most strictly obliged to wish well 
 to that interest, and promote it to your uttermost, in his 
 own way, i. e. according to his openly avowed inclination 
 and design, and the genuine constitution of that kingdom 
 which he hath erected, and is intent to enlarge and extend 
 fui-ther in the world. That, you do well know, is a king- 
 dom of grace ; for his natural kingdom already confines 
 with the universe, and can have no enlargement, without 
 enlarging the creation. Whosoever they are that contend 
 against him, are not merely enemies, therefore, but rebels. 
 And you see he aims to conquer them by love and good- 
 
70 THE redeemer's TEARS 
 
 ness ; and therefore treats with them, and seeks to establish 
 a kingdom over them, in and by a Mediator, who if he 
 were not intent upon the same design, had never lamented 
 the destruction of any of them, and wept over their ruin, 
 as here you find. So, therefore, should you long for the 
 conversion of souls, and enlargement of his kingdom this 
 way, both out of loyalty to him, and compassion towards 
 them. 
 
 II. For such as may be in great fear lest this prove to be 
 their case. They are either such as may fear it, but do 
 not ; or such as are deeply afflicted vsdth this actual fear. 
 
 1. For the foraier sort, who are in too great danger of 
 bringing themselves into this dreadful deplorate condition, 
 but apprehend nothing of it. All that is to be said to 
 them apart by themselves, is only to awaken them out of 
 their drowsy, dangerous slumber and security ; and then 
 they will be capable of being spoken to, together with the 
 other sort. Let me therefore, 
 
 1. Demand of you; do you believe there is a Lord 
 over you, yea or no ? Use your thoughts, for, about mat- 
 ters that concern you less, you can think. Do you not 
 apprehend you have an invisible Owner and Ruler, that 
 rightfully claims to himself an interest in you, and a 
 governing power over you 1 How came you into being ? 
 You know you made not yourselves. And if you yet look 
 no higher than to progenitors of your own kind, mortal 
 men, as you are ; how came they into being ? You have 
 so much understanding about you, if you would use it, as 
 to know they could none of them make themselves more 
 than you, and that, therefore, human race must have had 
 its beginning fi*om some superior Maker. And did not he 
 that made them make you and all things else 1 Where are 
 your arguments to prove it was otherwise, and that this 
 world, and all the generations of men, took beginning of 
 themselves, without a wise and mighty Creator ? Produce 
 your strong reasons, upon Avhich you will venture your 
 souls, and all the possibilities of your being happy or 
 miserable to eternity ! Will your imagination make you 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 7l 
 
 safe ? and protect you against his -vNTatli and justice, whose 
 authority you will not owti ? Can you, by it, uncreate 
 your Creator, and nullify the eternal Being ? or have you 
 any thing else, besides your own blind imagination, to 
 make you confident, that all things came of nothing, with- 
 out any maker ? But if you know not how to think this 
 reasonable, and apprehend you must allow yourselves to 
 owe your being to an xllmighty Creator, let me, 
 
 2- Ask of you how you think your life is maintained ] 
 Doth not he that made you live, keep you alive 1 Whereas 
 you have heard we all live, and move, and have our beings 
 in him, doth it not seem most likely to you to be so ? Have 
 you power of your own life ? Do you think you can live as 
 long as you will 1 At least do you not find you need the 
 common helps of meat and drink, and air and clothing, for 
 the support and comfort of your lives ? And are not all 
 these his creatures as well as you ? And can you have 
 them, whether he will or no ? 
 
 3. And how can you think that he that made and main- 
 tains you, hath no right to rule you ? If it were possible 
 any one should as much depend upon you, would you not 
 claim such power over him ? Can you suppose yourself to 
 be under no obligation to please him, who hath done so 
 much for you ? and to do his will, if you can any way 
 know it ? 
 
 4. And can you pretend you have no means to know 
 it ? That book that goes up and down under the name of 
 his Word, can you disprove it to be his Word 1 If such 
 writings should now first come into the world, so sincere, 
 so awful, so holy, so heavenly, bearing so expressly the 
 divine image, avowing themselves to be from God, and the 
 most wonderful works are wrought to prove them his 
 word, the deaf made to hear, the blind to see, the dumb 
 to speak, the sick healed, the dead raised, by a word only 
 commanding it to be so, would you not confess this to be 
 sufficient evidence that this revelation came from heaven ? 
 And are you not sufficiently assured they are so confirmed 1 
 Do you find in yourselves any inclination to cheat your 
 
72 THE KEDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 children, in any thing that concerns tlieir wellbeing 1 
 Wliy should you more suspect your forefatliers' design, to 
 cheat you in the mere reporting falsely a matter of fact ? 
 Was not human nature the same, so many hundred years 
 ago ? Did ever the enemies of the Christian name, in the 
 earlier days of Christianity, when it was hut a novelty in 
 the world, and as much hated, and endeavoured to be 
 rooted out, as ever any profession was, deny such matters 
 of fact ? Have not some of the most S})iteful of them con- 
 fessed it ? Did not Christians then willingly sacrifice their 
 lives by multitudes, upon the assured truth of these things ] 
 Have they not been ever since most strictly careful to pre- 
 serve these writings, and transmit them, as wherein the 
 all of themselves and their posterity was contained 1 And 
 where is now your new light ? where are your latter dis^ 
 coveries, upon which, so many ages after, you are able to 
 evict these writings of falsehood, or dare venture to dis- 
 believe tliem ? 
 
 5. But if you believe these writings to l>e divme, how 
 expressly is it told you, in them, what the state of your 
 case is God-ward, and what he requires of you ! You may 
 see you have displeased him, and how you are to please 
 him, as hath been shewn before in this discourse. You 
 know that you have lived in the world mindless and in- 
 observant of him, not trusting, fearing, loving, or delight- 
 ing in him, declining his acquaintance and converse ; 
 seeking your own pleasure, following your inclination, 
 doing your own will ; as if you were supreme, never 
 minding to refer your actions to his precepts as your rule, 
 or to his glory as your end. And from that word of his 
 you may understand all this to be very displeasing to him. 
 And that you can never please him by continuing this 
 course, but by breaking it off, and returning to him as your 
 Lord, and your God. That since your case did need a re- 
 deemer, and reconciler, and he hath provided and appointed 
 one for you ; you are to apply yourselves to him, to commit 
 and subject your souls to him, to trust in his merits and 
 blood, aud submit to his authority and government. And, 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 73 
 
 6. Are you not continually called hereto by the gospel, 
 under Avhich you have lived all this while ? so that you are 
 in actual, continual rebellion against him all the while you 
 comply not with this call ; every breath you draw is re- 
 bellious breath. There is no moment wherein this lies not 
 upon you, by every moment's addition to your time. And 
 that patience of his which adds by moments to your life, 
 and should lead you to repentance, is, while you repent not, 
 perverted by you, only to the treasuring up of wrath against 
 the day of wrath, and the revelation of his righteous judg- 
 ment. 
 
 7. And do you not find, as his word also plainly tells 
 you, a great averseness and disinclination in you to any 
 such serious solemn applying yourself to him, and your 
 Redeemer 1 Try your own hearts ; do you not find them 
 draw back and recoil ? If you urge them, do they not still 
 fly off ] How loath are you to retire ! and set yourselves 
 to consider your case ! and unto serious seeking of God 
 in Christ ! both from a reluctancy and indisj)osition to 
 any such employment as this is itself, and from disaffection 
 to that whereto it tends, the breaking off your former sin. 
 ful course of life, and entering upon a better. And does not 
 all this shew you the plain truth of what the word of God 
 hath told you, that the Ethiopian may as soon change his 
 skin, or the leopard his spots, as they do good who are 
 accustomed to do evil (Jer. xiii. 23) ; that you have a heart 
 that cannot repent (Rom. ii. 5), till God give you repentance 
 to life (Acts, xi. 18), that you cannot come to Christ till the 
 Father draw you, John, vi. 44. Do you not see your case 
 then ? that you must perish if you have not help from 
 heaven, if God do not give you his grace, to overcome and 
 cure the averseness and malignity of your nature ? that 
 things are likely thus to run on with you as they have 
 from day to day, and from year to year ; and you that are 
 unwilling to take the course that is necessary for your sal- 
 vation to-day, are likely to be as unwilling to-morrow, and 
 so your lives consume in vanity, till you drop into perdi- 
 tion ? But, 
 
7-4 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 8. Dost thou not also know, sinner (what hath been so 
 newly she^\^l thee from God's word), that, by thy being 
 under the gospel, thou hast a day of grace 1 not only as 
 offers of pardon and reconciliation are made to thee in it, 
 but also as through it, converting, heart-renewing grace is 
 to be expected, and may be had ? that what is sufficient 
 for the turning and changing of thy heart, is usually not 
 given all at once, but as gentler insinuations (the injection 
 of some good thoughts and desires) are complied with, 
 more powerful influences may be hoped to follow 1 that 
 therefore thou art concerned, upon any such thought cast 
 into thy mind, of going now to seek God for the life of thy 
 soul, to strive, thyself, against thy own disinclination 1 that 
 if thou do not, but yield to it, and still defer, it may prove 
 mortal to thee 1 For is it not plain to thee in itself, and 
 from what hath been said, that this day hath its limits, and 
 will come to an end ? Dost thou not know thou art a 
 mortal creature, that thy breath is in thy nostrils 1 Dost 
 thou know how near thou art to the end of thy life ? 
 and how few breaths there may be for thee between this 
 present moment and eternity ? Dost thou not know thy 
 day of grace may end before thy life ? that thou mayst be 
 cast far enough out of the sound of the gospel 1 and if 
 thou shouldst carry any notices of it with thee, thou, who 
 hast been so unapt to consider them, while they were 
 daily pressed upon thee, wilt most probably be less apt 
 when thou hearest of no such thing 1 that thou mayst live 
 still under the gospel, and the Spirit of grace retire from 
 thee, and never attempt thee more for thy former despiting of 
 it ? For what obligation hast thou upon that blessed Spirit ? 
 Or why shouldst thou think a Deity bound to attend upon 
 thy triflings ? And, 
 
 9. If yet all this move not : consider what it will be to 
 die unreconciled to God ! Thou hast been his enemy, he 
 hath made thee gracious off^ers of peace, waited long upon 
 thee, thou hast made light of all. The matter must at 
 length end either in reconciliation or vengeance ! The 
 fomier is not acceptable to thee : art thou prepared for the 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 75 
 
 latter ? canst thou sustain it ? Is it not a fearful thing to 
 fall into the hands of the living God ? Thou wilt not do 
 him right ; he must then right himself upon thee. Dost 
 thou think he cannot do it ? canst thou douht his power ? 
 Cast thine eyes about thee, behold the greatness (as far as 
 thou canst) of this creation of his, whereof thou art a very 
 little part. He that hath made that sun over thine head, 
 and stretched out those spacious heavens, that hath fur- 
 nished them with those innumerable bright stars, that 
 governs all their motions, that hath hung this earth upon 
 nothing, that made and sustains that great variety of crea- 
 tures that inhabit it, can he not deal with thee, a worai ? 
 Can thine heart endure, or thine hands be strong, if he 
 plead with thee ? if he surround thee with his terrors, and 
 set them in battle-array against thee ? Hell and destruc- 
 tion are open before him, and without covering ; how soon 
 art thou cast in and ingulfed ! Sit down, and consider 
 whether thou be able, with thy impotency, to stand before 
 him, that comes against thee with almighty power ! Is it 
 not better to sue in time for peace ? But perhaps thou 
 mayst say, " I begin now to fear it is too late, I have so 
 long slighted the gospel, resisted the Holy Spirit of God, 
 abused and baffled my own light and conscience, that I 
 am afraid God will quite abandon me, and cast me off for 
 ever." It is well if thou do indeed begin to fear. That 
 fear gives hope. Thou art then capable of coming into 
 their i"ank wlio are next to be spoken to, viz. 
 
 2. Such as feel themselves afflicted with the apprehen- 
 sion and dread of their having out-lived their day, and 
 that the things of their peace are now irrecoverably hid 
 from their eyes. I desire to counsel such faithfully, ac- 
 cording to that light and guidance which the Gospel of our 
 Lord affords us in reference to any such case. 
 
 1. Take heed of stifling that fear suddenly, but labour to 
 improve it to some advantage, and then to cure and remove 
 it by rational, evangelical means and methods. Do not, 
 as thou lovest the life of thy soul, go about suddenly, or 
 by undue means, to smother or extinguish it. 'Tis too 
 
76 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 possible, when any such apprehension strikes into a man's 
 mind, because 'tis a sharp or piercing thought, disturbs his 
 quiet, gives him molestation, and some torture, to pluck 
 out the dart too soon, and cast it away. Perhaps such a 
 course is taken, as doth him unspeakably more mischief, 
 than a thousand such thoughts would ever do. He di- 
 verts, it may be, to vain company, or to sensuality, talks 
 or drinks away his trouble ; makes death his cure of pain, 
 and to avoid the fear of hell, leaps into it. Is this indeed 
 the wisest course 1 Either thy apprehension is reasonable, 
 or unreasonable. If it should prove a reasonable appre- 
 hension, as it is a terrible one, would the neglect of it 
 become a reasonable creature, or mend thy case 1 if it shall 
 be found unreasonable, it may require time and some 
 debate to discover it to be so ; whereby, when it is manifestly 
 detected, with how much greater satisfaction is it laid aside ! 
 Labour then to inquire rightly concerning this matter. 
 
 2. In this inquiry, consider diligently what the kind of 
 that fear is that you find yourselves afflicted with. The 
 fear that perplexes your heart, must some way correspond 
 to the apprehension you have in your mind, touching your 
 case. Consider what that is, and in what form it shews 
 itself there. Doth it appear in the form of a peremptory 
 judgment, a definitive sentence, which you have past 
 within yourself concerning your case ; that your day is 
 over, and you are a lost creature ? or only of a mere doubt, 
 lest it should prove so 1 The fear that corresponds to the 
 former of these, makes you quite desperate, and obstinately 
 resolute against any means for the bettering of your condi- 
 tion. The fear that answers to the latter apprehension, 
 hath a mixture of hope in it, which admits of somewhat to 
 be done for your relief, and will prompt thereunto. Labour 
 to discern which of these is the present temper and posture 
 of your spirit. 
 
 3. If you find it be the former, let no thought any longer 
 dwell in your mind u^ider that form, viz. as a definitive 
 sentence concerning your state. You have nothing to do 
 to pass such a judgment ; the tendency of it is dismal and 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 77 
 
 hoiTid, as you may, yourself, perceive. And your ground 
 for it is none at all. Your conscience within you is to do 
 the office of a judge ; but only of an under-judge, that is 
 to proceed strictly by rule, prescribed and set by the sove- 
 reign Lord and Arbiter of life and death : there is. one 
 Lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy. Nor is your 
 conscience, as an under-judge, to meddle at all, but in cases 
 within your cognizance. This about your final state is a 
 reserved, excepted case, belonging only to the supreme 
 tribunal, which you must take heed how you usurp. As 
 such a judgment tends to make you desperate, so there will 
 be high presumption in this despair. Dare you take upon 
 you to cancel and nullify to yourself the obligation of the 
 evangelical law ? and whereas that makes it your duty to 
 repent, and believe the gospel, to absolve yourselves from 
 this bond, and say, it is none of your duty, or make it 
 impossible to you to do it 1 You have matter and cases 
 enough within the cognizance of your conscience, not only 
 the particular actions of your life, but your present state 
 also, whether you be as yet in a state of acceptance with 
 God, through Christ, yea or no. And here you have rules 
 set you to judge by. But concerning your final state, or 
 that you shall never be brought into a state of acceptance, 
 you have no rule by which you can make such a judgment ; 
 and therefore this judgment belongs not to you. Look, 
 then, upon the matter of your final condition, as an exempt 
 case, reserved to the future judgment, and the present 
 determination whereof, against yourself, is without your 
 compass and line, and most unsuitable to the state of pro- 
 bation, wherein, you are to reckon, God continues you 
 here, with the rest of men in this world ; and therefore any 
 such judgment you should tear and reverse, and as such, 
 not permit to have any place with you. 
 
 4. Yet since, as hath been said, you are not quite to 
 reject or obliterate any apprehension or thought touching 
 this subject, make it your business to correct and reduce it 
 to that other form, i. e. let it only fur the present remain 
 with you, as a doubt how your case now stands, and what 
 
78 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 issue it may at length have. And see that your fear there- 
 upon he answerable to your apprehension, so rectified. 
 While as yet it is not evident you have made your peace 
 with God upon his kno-sxni terms, you are to consider God 
 hath left your case a doubtful case, and you are to conceive 
 of it accordingly ; and are to entertain a fear concerning it, 
 not as certainly hopeless, but as uncertain. And as yours 
 is really a doubtful case, 'tis a most important one. It 
 concerns your souls, and your eternal well-being, and is 
 not therefore to be neglected, or trifled with. You do not 
 know how God will deal with you : whether he will again 
 afford you such help as he hath done, or whether ever he 
 will effectually move your heart unto conversion and sal- 
 vation. You therefore are to work out your salvation with 
 fear and trembling, because (as was told you) he works, 
 but of his o\vn good pleasure. Your fear should not ex- 
 ceed this state of your case, so as to exclude hope. It is 
 of unspeakable concernment to you, that hope do inter- 
 mingle with your fear. That will do much to mollify and 
 soften your hearts, that aft^r all the abuse of mercy, and 
 imposing upon the patience of God, your neglects and 
 slights of a bleeding Saviour, your resisting and grieving 
 the Spirit of grace, he may yet, once for all, visit your for- 
 lorn soul with his vital influence, and save you fi-om going 
 down to perdition ! How can your hearts but melt and 
 break upon this apprehension ! And it is not a groundless 
 one. He that " came not to call the righteous but sinners 
 to repentance," will not fail to treat them well, whom he 
 sees beginning to listen to his call, and entertaining the 
 thoughts that most directly tend to bring them to a com- 
 pliance with it. Your hope insinuating itself and mingling 
 with your fear, is highly grateful to the God of all grace. 
 He takes pleasure in them that fear him, and in them that 
 hope in his mercy, Psal. cxlvii. 11. 
 
 5. But see to it also that your fear be not slight and 
 momentary, and that it vanish not, while as yet it hath so 
 great a work to do in you, viz. to engage you to accept 
 God's own terms of peace and reconciliation, with all your 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 79 
 
 heart and soul. It is of continual use, even not only in 
 order to conversion, but to the converted also. Can you 
 think those mentioned words were spoken to none such, 
 Phil. ii. 12, 13 ? or those, Heb. iv. 1 ? Let us therefore 
 fear, lest a promise being left us of entering into his rest, 
 any of you should seem to come short, &c. And do we 
 not find a holy fear is to contribute all along to the whole 
 of progressive sanctification ? 2 Cor. vii. 1. Having there- 
 fore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves 
 from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness 
 in the fear of God. And that by it he preserves his own, 
 that they never depart from him, Jer. xxxii. 40. Much 
 more do you need it in your present case, while matters 
 are yet in treaty between God and you. And as it should 
 not exceed the true apprehension of your case, so neither 
 should it come short of it. 
 
 6. You should therefore in order hereto aggravate to 
 yourselves the just causes of your fear. Why are you 
 afraid your day should be over, and the things of your 
 peace be for ever hid from your eyes ? Is it not that you 
 have sinned against much light, against many checks of 
 your own consciences, against many very serious warnings 
 and exhortations, many earnest importunate beseechings 
 and entreaties you have had in the ministry of the gospel, 
 many motions and strivings of the Spirit of God thereby ? 
 Let your thoughts dwell upon these things. Think what 
 it is for the great God, the Lord of glory, to have been 
 slighted by a worm ! Doth not this deserve as ill things 
 at the hands of God as you can fear ? 'Tis fit you should 
 apprehend what your desert is, though perhaps mercy may 
 interpose, and avert the deserved dreadful event. And if 
 he have signified his displeasure towards you hereupon, 
 by desisting for the present, and ceasing to strive with you 
 as he hath formerly done ; if your heart be grown more 
 cold, and dead, and hard, than sometime it was ; if you 
 have been left so as to fall into grosser sin ; 'tis highly 
 reasonable you should fear being finally forsaken of the 
 blessed Spirit of God, and greatly fear it, but with an awful 
 
80 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 fear that may awaken you most earnestly to endeavour his 
 return to j'ou, not with a despairing fear, that will bind 
 you up from any further endeavour for your soul at all. 
 
 And if upon all this (by death or otherwise) such a 
 ministry be withdrawn from you as God did work by, in 
 some degree, upon you, and you find not in that kind, 
 what is so suitable to your state and ease ; take heed lest 
 you be stupid under such a stroke. Think what it imports 
 unto you, if God have, as it were, said concerning any 
 servant of his (as Ezek. iii. 26), I will make his tongue 
 cleave to the roof of his mouth, that he shall not be a 
 reprover to you any more ! Consider that God may by 
 this be making way that " wrath may come upon you to 
 the uttermost," and never let you have opportunity to 
 know more the things of your peace. Perhaps you may 
 never meet with the man more, that shall speak so suit- 
 ably to your condition, that shall so closely pursue 
 you through all the haunts, and subterfuges, and lurking- 
 holes, wherein your guilty convinced soul hath been wont 
 to hide itself, and falsely seek to heal its own wounds. 
 One of more value may be less apt, possibly^ to profit you : 
 as a more polished key doth not therefore alike fit every lock. 
 And thy case may be such, that thou shalt never hear a 
 sermon or the voice of a preacher more. 
 
 7. And now in this case recollect yourselves, what sins 
 you have been formerly convinced of, under such a ministry, 
 and which you have persisted in notwithstanding. Were 
 you never convinced of your neglecting God, and living as 
 without him in the world ? of your low esteem and disre- 
 gard of Christ 1 of your worldliness, your minding only 
 the things of this earth ? of your carnality, pride, self- 
 seeking, voluptuousness, your having been lovers of plea- 
 sures more than lovers of God ? of your unprofitableness in 
 your station ? wherein you ought to have lived more con- 
 formably to Christian rules and precepts, according to the 
 relations wherein God had set you ] Were you never 
 convinced how very faulty governors you have been, or 
 members of families ? parents or masters, children or ser- 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SODLS. 81 
 
 vants, &c. 1 What will this come to at last, that convic- 
 tions have hitherto signified and served for nothing but 
 increase of guilt ? 
 
 8. Under all this weight and load of guilt, consider what 
 you have to do for your souls ! Bethink yourselves : are 
 you to sit down and yield yourselves to perish ? Con- 
 sider, man, it is the business of thy soul, and of thine 
 eternal state, that is now before thee. Thou hast the 
 dreadful flaming gulf of everlasting horror and misery in 
 view ; hast thou nothing left thee to do but to throw thy- 
 self into it ? Methinks thou shouldst sooner reconcile thy 
 thoughts to any thing than that ; and that, if any thing at 
 all be to be done for thine escape, thou shouldst rather set 
 thyself about it, and do it. Thou art yet alive, not yet in 
 hell, yet the patience of God spares thee, thou hast yet time 
 to consider, thou hast the power to think yet left thee, and 
 canst thou use it no other way than to think of perishing ? 
 Think rather how not to perish. A great point is gained, 
 if thou art but brought to say, " What shall I do to be 
 saved ?" which doth imply thou dost both apprehend the 
 distressedness of thy case, and art willing to do any thing 
 that is to be done for thy relief. And if thou art brought 
 to this, thy circumstances may perhaps be such, that thou 
 canst only put this question to thyself, and art only thyself 
 to answer it, without a living, present guide, which may 
 therefore make such a help as this needful to thee. Possibly 
 some irresistible providence may have- so cast thy lot, 
 that thou art only now to be thy own preacher ; though it 
 sometime was otherwise with thee ; and things were said 
 to thee most suitable to the condition of thy soul, which 
 thou wouldst not then consider. It is yet pressed upon 
 thee to consider now, with some design to direct thy 
 thoughts, that they run not into useless and troublesome 
 confusion only. And your subject being what course you 
 are now to take, that you may escape eternal wrath and 
 ruin, 'tis obvious to you to apprehend nothing is to be done 
 against or without God, but with him, and by him. Your 
 utmost consideration can but bring the matter to this short 
 
82 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 point, that whereas you have highly offended the God that 
 made you, incurred his wrath, and made him your enemy, 
 either to resist, or treat and supplicate. That madness 
 which would let you intend the former, is not capable of 
 consideration at all. For, if you consider, will you contend 
 with omnipotency, or fight with an all -devouring flame ? 
 And as to the latter, it is well for you, that it can be the 
 matter of your consideration, that you have any encourage- 
 ment to turn your thoughts that way. You might have 
 enemies that, being provoked, and having you in their 
 power, would never admit of a treaty, nor regard jovlX 
 supplications, but fall upon you with merciless fury, and 
 leave you nothing to think of but perishing. Here it is 
 not so with you. The merciful God hath graciously told 
 you, fury is not so in him, but that (though if briars and 
 thorns will set themselves in battle against him, he will 
 easily pass through, and burn them up together, yet) if any 
 will take hold of his strength, that they may make peace 
 with him, they shall make peace with him, Isa. xxvii. 4, 5. 
 You are to consider there is danger in your case, and there 
 is hope, that your sin is not so little as to need no forgive- 
 ness, nor too great to be forgiven. Wherefore, whose case 
 soever this is, since you may be forgiven, if you duly apply 
 yourselves, and must be forgiven, or you are undone, my 
 further advice to you is, and you may, as to this, advise 
 yourself, having nothing else left you to do. 
 
 9. That you cast yourselves down before the mercy-seat 
 of God, humble yourselves deeply at his footstool, turn to 
 him with all your soul, implore his mercy through Christ, 
 make a solemn covenant with him, taking him to be your 
 God, and devoting yourself to him to be his, accepting his 
 Son as your Lord and Saviour, and resigning your soul 
 with submission and trust entirely to him, to be ruled and 
 saved by him. That you are to do this, the case is plain, 
 and even speaks itself ; how you are to do it may need to 
 be more particularly told you. 
 
 1 . Take heed that what you do in this be not the mere 
 effect of your present apprehended distress, but of the altered 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. F3 
 
 judgment and inclination of your mind and lieart. The 
 apprehension of your distressed, dangerous condition, may 
 be a useful means and inducement to engage you more 
 seriously to listen and attend to the proposals made to 
 you in the gospel. But if upon all this, it should be 
 the sense of your heart that you would rather live still 
 as without God in the world, and that you would never 
 come to any such treaty or agreement with him; if 
 mere necessity, and the fear of perishing, did not urge you 
 to it, you are still but where you were. Therefore, though 
 the feared danger was necessary to make you bethink your- 
 self, and consider what God propounds to you ; that con- 
 sideration ought to have that further effect upon you, to 
 convince you of the equity and desirableness of the things 
 themselves which he propounds, summarily, of your betaking 
 yourselves to him as your sovereign Lord and supreme < 
 Good, to fear and love, obey and enjoy him, in Christ Jesus, 
 and accordingly ought to incline your heart thereto. 
 
 2. You are to consider in your entering into this covenant 
 with God in Christ, that it is not a transaction for the pre- 
 sent only you are about, but for your whole life. This 
 God is to be your God for ever and ever, your God and your 
 guide even to the death. Psalm xlviii. 14. You are to live 
 in his fear and love, in his service and communion, all your 
 days, and must understand this to be the meaning and 
 tenor of the covenant which you make with him. 
 
 3. And hence therefore, it is plain that your whole trans- 
 action in this matter must proceed from a new nature, and 
 a new vital principle of grace and holiness in you. What 
 you do herein will otherwiss neither be sincere nor lasting. 
 Yoa can never emiirace religion for itself, without this, nor 
 continue on in a religious course. What you do only from 
 a temporary pang of fear upon you, is but from a kind of 
 force that is for the present upon you, and will come to 
 nothing, as soon as the impression of that fear wears off. 
 Tlie religion which is true and durable, is not from a sj)irit 
 of fear, but of love, power, and a sound mind, 2 Tim, i. 7. 
 You must be a new creature, God's workmanship, created 
 
84 THE redeemer's tears 
 
 in Christ Jesus unto good works — that you may walk in 
 them. The life of the new creature stands in love to God, 
 as its way and course afterwards is a course of walking 
 with God. If your heart be not brought to love God, and 
 delight in him, you are still but dead towards God, and 
 you still remain alive unto sin, as before. Whereas, if you 
 ever come to be a Christian indeed, you must be able truly 
 to reckon yourself dead to sin, and alive to God through 
 Jesus Christ, Rom. vi. 11. Whereupon in your making 
 the mentioned covenant, you must yield yourself to God, 
 as one that is alive from the dead, as 'tis verse 13 of the 
 same chapter, A new nature and life in you, will make 
 all that you do, in a way of duty (whether immediately 
 towards God or man, the whole course of godliness, right- 
 eousness, and sobriety), easy and delightful to you. And 
 because it is evident both from many plain scriptures, and 
 your own and all men's experience, that you cannot be, 
 yourselves, the authors of a new life and nature, you must 
 therefore further, in entering into this covenant, 
 
 4. Most earnestly cry to God, and plead with him for 
 his Spirit, by whom the vital unitive bond must be con- 
 tracted between God and Christ and your souls. So this 
 will be the covenant of life and peace. Lord ! how gene- 
 rally do the Christians of our age deceive themselves with 
 a self-sprung religion ! Divine indeed in the institution, 
 but merely human, in respect of the radication and exer- 
 cise ; in which respects also it must be divine or nothing. 
 What, are we yet to learn that a divine power must work 
 and form our religion in us, as well as divine authority 
 direct and enjoin it ? Do all such scriptures go for nothing 
 that tell us, it is God that must create the new heart, 
 and renew the right spirit in us ; that he must turn us, 
 if ever we be turned ; that we can never come to Christ, 
 except the Father draw us, &:c. 1 Nor is there any cause 
 of discouragement in this, if you consider what hath before 
 been said in this discourse. Ask and you shall receive, 
 seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to 
 you. Your heavenly Father will give his Spirit to them 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOOLS. 86 
 
 that ask, more readily than parents do bread to their chil- 
 dren, and not a stone. But what if you be put to ask often, 
 and wait long, this doth but the more endear the gift, and 
 shew the high value of it. You are to remember how 
 often you have grieved, resisted, and vexed this Spirit, and 
 that you have made God wait long upon you. What if 
 the absolute sovereign Lord of all expect your attendance 
 upon him ? He waits to be gracious — and blessed are they 
 that wait for him. Renew your applications to him. Lay 
 from time to time that covenant before you, which your- 
 selves must be wrought up unto a full entire closure with. 
 And if it be not done at one time, try yet if it will another, 
 and try again and again. Remember it is for your life, for 
 your soul, for your all. But do not satisfy yourself with 
 only such faint motions within thee, as may only be the 
 effects of thy own spirit, of thy dark, dull, listless, sluggish, 
 dead, hard heart, at least not of the efficacious regenerating 
 influence of the divine Spirit. Didst thou never hear 
 what mighty workings there have been in others, when 
 God hath been transforming and renewing them, and 
 drawing them into living union with his Son, and himself 
 through him 1 What an amazing penetrating light hath 
 struck into their hearts ! as 2 Cor. iv. 6. Such as when 
 he was making the world, enlightened the chaos. Such 
 as hath made them see things that concerned them as they 
 truly were, and with their own proper face, God, and 
 Christ, and themselves, sin and duty, heaven and hell, in 
 their own true appearances ! How effectually they have 
 been awakened ! how the terrors of the Almighty have 
 beset and seized their souls ! what agonies and pangs 
 they have felt in themselves, when the voice of God hath 
 said to them. Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from 
 the dead, and Christ shall give thee light ! Eph. v. 14. 
 How he hath brought them down at his feet, thrown them 
 into the dust, broken them, melted them, made them abase 
 themselves, loathe and abhor themselves, filled them with 
 sorrow, shame, confusion, and with indignation towards 
 their own guilty souls, habituated them to a severity 
 
86 THE bedeemer's tears 
 
 against themselves, unto the most sharp, and yet most 
 unforced self-accusations, self-judging, and self-condemna- 
 tion ; so as even to make them lay claim to hell, and 
 confess the portion of devils belonged to them, as their 
 own most deserved portion. And if now their eyes have 
 been directed towards a Redeemer, and any glimmering of 
 hope hath appeared to them ; if now they are taught to 
 understand God saying to them, Sinner, art thou yet 
 willing to be reconciled, and accept a Saviour ? the 
 transport into which it puts them ! this is life from the 
 dead ! What, is there hope for such a lost wretch as I ? 
 How tasteful now is that melting invitation ! how pleasant 
 an intimation doth it carry with it ! Come unto me all ye 
 that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest, 
 &c. If the Lord of heaven and earth do now look down 
 from the throne of glory, and say, " What ! sinner, wilt 
 thou despise my favour and pardon, my Son, thy mighty 
 merciful Redeemer, my grace and Spirit still ? — What can 
 be the return of the poor abashed wretch, overawed by 
 the glory of the divine Majesty, stung with compunction, 
 overcome with the intimation of kindness and love ? I 
 have heard of thee, God, by the hearing of the ear, now 
 mine eye seeth thee ; wherefore I abhor myself, and repent 
 in dust and ashes. So inwardly is the truth of that word 
 now felt, That thou mayest remember and be confounded, 
 and never open thy mouth any more because of thy shame, 
 when I am pacified towards thee, for all that thou hast 
 done, saith the Lord God, Ezek. xvi. 63. But, sinner, 
 wilt thou make a covenant with me and my Christ ? wilt 
 thou take me for thy God, and him for thy Redeemer and 
 Lord ? And may I, Lord ? yet, may I ? admirable 
 grace ! wonderful sparing mercy ! that I was not thrown 
 into hell at my first refusal ! Yea, Lord, with all my heart 
 and soul, I renounce the vanities of an empty cheating 
 world, and all the pleasures of sin. In thy favour stands 
 my life. Whom have I in heaven but thee ? whom on 
 earth do I desire besides thee ? And 0, thou blessed 
 Jesus, thou Prince of the kings of the earth, who hast 
 
WEPT OVER LOST SOULS. 87 
 
 loved me, and Avashed me from my sins in thy blood, and 
 whom the eternal God hath exalted to be a Prince and a 
 Saviour, to give repentance and remission of sins, I fall 
 before thee, my Lord and my God ; I here willingly ten- 
 der my homage at the footstool of thy throne. I take thee 
 for the Lord of my life. I absolutely surrender and resign 
 myself to thee. Thy love constrains me henceforth no 
 more to live to myself, but to thee who diedst for me, and 
 didst rise again. And I subject and yield myself to thy 
 blessed light and power, Holy Spirit of grace, to be 
 more and more illuminated, sanctified, and prepared for 
 every good word and work in this world, and for an inhe- 
 ritance among them that are sanctified in the other. Sin- 
 ner, never give thy soul leave to be at rest till thou find it 
 brought to some such transaction with God (the Father, 
 Son^ and Spirit) as this ; so as that thou canst truly say, 
 and dost feel thy heart is in it. Be not weary or impatient 
 of waiting and striving, till thou canst say, this is now the 
 very sense of thy soul. Such things have been done in 
 the world (but how seldom of latter days !) so God 
 hath wrought with men to save them from going down to 
 the pit, having found a ransom for them. And why may 
 he not yet be expected to do so 1 He hath smitten rocks 
 ere now, and made the waters gush out ; nor is his hand 
 shortened, nor his ear heavy. Thy danger is not, sinner, 
 that he will be inexorable, but lest thou shouldst. He will 
 be entreated, if thou wouldst be prevailed with to entreat 
 his favour with thy whole heart. 
 
 And that thou mayst, and not throw away thy soul, and 
 so great a hope, through mere sloth, and loathness to be 
 at some pains for thy life ; let the text, which hath l)een 
 thy directory about the things that belong to thy peace, 
 be also thy motive, as it gives thee to behold the Son of 
 God weeping over such as would not know those things. 
 Shall not the Redeemer's tears move thee ? hard heart ! 
 Consider what these tears import to this purpose. 
 
 1. They signify the real depth and greatness of the 
 misery into which thou art falling. They drop from an 
 
88 THE REDEEMER S TEARS 
 
 intellectual and most comprehensive eye, that sees far, and 
 pierces deep into things, hath a wide and large prospect ; 
 takes the comfort of that forlorn state into which nnrecon- 
 cilable sinners are hastening, in all the horror of it. The 
 Son of God did not weep vain ' and causeless tears, or for 
 a light matter ; nor did he for himself either spend his 
 own, or desire the profusion of others' tears. Weep not 
 for me, daughters of Jerusalem, &c. He knows the 
 value of souls, the weight of guilt, and how low it will 
 press and sink them ; the severity of God's justice, and 
 the power of his anger, and what the fearful effects of them 
 will be, when they finally fall. If thou understandest not 
 these things thyself, believe him that did, at least believe 
 his tears. 
 
 2. They signify the sincerity of his love and pity, the 
 truth and tenderness of his compassion. Canst thou think 
 his deceitful tears ? his, who never knew guile ? was this 
 like the rest of his course 1 And remember that he who 
 shed tears, did, from the same fountain of love and mercy, 
 shed blood too ! Was that also done to deceive ? Thou 
 makest thyself some very considerable thing indeed, if 
 thou think est the Son of God counted it worth his while 
 to weep, and bleed, and die, to deceive thee into a false 
 esteem of him and his love. But if it be the greatest 
 madness imaginable to entertain any such thought, but 
 that his tears were sincere and inartificial, the natural 
 genuine expressions of undissembled benignity and pity, 
 thou art then to consider what love and compassion thou 
 art now sinning against ; what bowels thou spurnest ; and 
 that if thou perishest, 'tis under such guilt as the devils 
 themselves are not liable to, who never had a Redeemer 
 bleeding for them, nor, that we ever find, weeping over 
 them. 
 
 3. They shew the remedilessness of thy case, if thou 
 persist in impenitency and unbelief till the things of thy 
 peace be quite hid from thine eyes. These tears will then 
 be the last issues of (even defeated) love, of love that is 
 frustrated of its kind design. Thou mayst perceive in 
 
WEPT OVEll LOST SOULS. gg 
 
 these tears the steady unalterable laws of heaven, the 
 inllexibleness of the divine justice, that holds thee in 
 adamantine bonds, and hath sealed thee up, if thou prove 
 incurably obstinate and impenitent, unto perdition ; so that 
 even the Redeemer himself, lie that is mighty to save, 
 cannot at length save thee, but only weep over thee, drop 
 tears into thy flame, which assuage it not ; but (though 
 they have another design, even to express true compassion) 
 do yet unavoidably heighten and increase the fervour of it, 
 and will do so to all eternity. He even tells thee, sinner' 
 " Thou hast despised my blood, thou shalt yet have my 
 tears." That would have saved thee, these do only lament 
 thee lost. 
 
 But the tears wept over others, as lost and past hope, 
 why should they not yet melt thee, while as yet there is 
 hope in thy case ? If thou be effectually melted in thy very 
 soul, and looking to him whom thou hast pierced, dost 
 truly mourn over him, thou mayst assure thyself the 
 prospect his weeping eye had of lost souls, did not include 
 thee. His weeping over thee would argue thy case forlorn 
 and hopeless ; thy mourning over him will make it safe 
 and happy. That it may be so, consider further, that, 
 
 4. They signify how very intent he is to save souls, and 
 how gladly he would save thine, if yet thou wilt accept of 
 mercy while it may be had. For if he weep over them 
 that will not be saved, from the same love that is the 
 spring of these tears, would saving mercies proceed to those 
 that are become willing to receive them. And that love 
 that wept over them that were lost, how will it glory in 
 them that are saved ? There his love is disappointed and 
 vexed, crossed in its gracious intendment ; but here havhig 
 compassed it, how will he joy over thee with singing, and 
 rest in his love ! And thou also, instead of being involved 
 in a like ruin with the unreconciled sinners of the old 
 Jerusalem, shalt be enrolled among the glorious citizens of 
 the new, and triumph together with them in eternal glory. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Because some things, not fit to be wholly omitted, were 
 as little fit to come into the body of a practical discourse, 
 'twas thought requisite to subjoin here the following addi- 
 tions, that will severally have reference to distinct parts 
 of the foregoing discourse. 
 
 As to what was said of the unreasonableness and ill 
 consequence of admitting it — to be any man's duty to 
 believe himself utterly rejected, and forsaken of God, inas- 
 much as it would make that his duty which were repug- 
 nant to his felicity : — this is to be evinced by a consider- 
 ation, which also, even apart by itself, were not without 
 its own great weight, viz. that such a belief were incon- 
 sistent with his former stated and known duty ; it were 
 therefore inconsistent with his felicity, inasmuch as it 
 would make that duty impossible to be performed, which 
 before, was by constitution of the evangelical law, made 
 necessary to it, viz. repentance towards God, and faith in 
 our Lord Jesus Christ. The hope of acceptance is so neces- 
 sary to both these, that the belief of a man's being finally 
 rejected, or that he shall never be accepted, cannot but 
 make them both impossible, equally impossible as if he 
 were actually in hell, as much impossible to him as to the 
 devils themselves. Nor is this impossibility merely from 
 a moral impotency, or that objuration of heart which were 
 confessedly vicious, and his gTeat sin, but from the natural 
 influence of that belief of his being for ever rejected, which 
 (upon the mentioned supposition) were his duty. Besides, 
 inasmuch as it is the known duty of a sinner under the 
 
APPENDIX. 91 
 
 gospel, to turn to God through Christ, and it is also declared 
 in the same gospel (sufficiently to make it the common 
 matter of faith to Christians) that none can of themselves 
 turn to God, and believe in his Son, without the help of 
 special efficacious grace ; it must hereupon be a man's duty 
 also to pray for that grace which may enable him hereto. 
 How deep in wickedness was Simon Magus, even in the 
 gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity, when yet Peter 
 calls him to repentance, and puts him upon praying for 
 forgiveness (which must imply also his praying for the 
 grace to repent) ; but how can a man pray for that, which, 
 at the same time, he believes shall not be given him ? 
 yea, and which is harder, and more unaccountable, how 
 can he stand obliged in duty, to pray for that which, at 
 the same time, he stands obliged in duty to believe he shall 
 not obtain ? How can these two contrary obligations lie 
 upon a man at the same time ? or is he to look upon the 
 former as ceased ? should he reckon the gospel as to him 
 repealed 1 or his impenitency and infidelity, even when 
 they are at the highest, no sins 1 
 
 I know 'tis obvious to object, as to all this, the case of 
 the unpardonable blasphemy against the Holy Ghost ; 
 which will be supposed to be stated and determined in 
 the sacred Scriptures ; and being so, the person that hath 
 committed it, may equally be thought obliged (by a mixed 
 assent, partly of faith to what is written, partly of self- 
 knowledge, which he ought to have of his own acts and 
 state) to conclude himself guilty of it ; whereupon all the 
 former inconvenience and difficulty will be liable to be 
 urged as above. But even as to this also, I see not, but 
 it may fitly enough be said, that though the general nature 
 of that sin be stated, and sufficiently determined in thesi, 
 yet that God hath not left it determinable in kypothesi, by 
 any particular person, that he hath committed it. For 
 admit that it generally lies in imputing to the devil those 
 works of the Holy Ghost, by which the truth of Chris- 
 tianity was to be demonstrated, I yet see not how any man 
 can apply this to his own particular case, so as justly and 
 
92 APPENDIX. 
 
 certainly to conclude himself guilty of it. I take it for 
 granted none will ever take the notion of blasphemy in 
 that strictness, but that a man may possibly be guilty of 
 this sin as well in thought as by speech. I also doubt not 
 hut it will be acknowledged on all hands, that prejudice and 
 malice against Christianity must have a great ingrediency 
 into this sin ; not such malice as whereby, knowing it to 
 be the true religion, a man hates and detests it as such 
 (which would suppose these Pharisees, whom our Saviour 
 charges with it, or cautions against it, to have been, at that 
 time, in their judgments and consciences, Christians), but 
 such malignity, and strong prejudice, as darkens and 
 obstructs his mind, that he judges it not to be true, against 
 the highest evidence of its being. It will also be ac- 
 knowledged, that some enmity and disaffection to true 
 religion is common to all men ; more especially in their 
 tmregeneracy, and unconverted state. 
 
 Now let it be supposed that some pei-son or other, of a 
 very unwarrantably sceptical genius, had opportunity to 
 know certainly the matter of fact, touching the miraculous 
 works wrought by our Saviour, and understood withal 
 somewhat generally of the doctrine which he taught ; and 
 that he sets himself, as a philosopher, to consider the case. 
 Suppose that, partly through prejudice against the holy 
 design of Christianity, whereof there is some degree in all, 
 and partly through shortness of discourse, not having 
 thoroughly considered the matter ; he thinks it possible 
 that some demon or other, with design, under a specious 
 pretence, to impose upon or amuse the credulous vulgar, 
 may have done all those strange things ; suppose his judg- 
 ment should for the present more incline this way : what 
 if, thinking this to be the case in the instance of Appollonius 
 Tyanaeus, he hath not yet, upon a slighter view, discerned 
 enough to distinguish them, but thinks alike of both cases : 
 yea, and suppose he have spoken his sentiments to some 
 or other : perhaps upon further inquiry and search, he 
 might see cause to alter his judgment; and now, setting 
 himself to inquire more narrowly, he perceives the unex- 
 
APPENDIX. 93 
 
 ceptionable excellent scope and tendency of our Saviour's 
 doctrine and precepts, considers the simplicity and purity 
 of his life, contemplates further the awful greatness of his 
 mighty works : but amidst these his deliberations, he finds 
 among the rest of Christian constitutions this severe one, 
 Matt. xii. 31, 32, and begins to fear lest, supposing the 
 truth of this excellent religion, he have precluded himself 
 of all the advantages of it by that former judgment of liis. 
 "What is he to do in this case ? what were he to be advised 
 unto ? What, to pass judgment upon himself, and his case, 
 as desperate ? or not rather to humble himself before the 
 God of heaven, ask pardon for his injurious rash judg- 
 ment, and supplicate for mercy, and for further illumina- 
 tion, in the mystery of God, of the Father, and of Christ ? 
 Which course, that it may have a blessed issue with him, 
 who dare venture to deny or doubt ? And what have we 
 to say hereupon, but that in great wisdom and mercy, our 
 Saviour hath only told us there is such a sin, and what the 
 general uature of it is, or whereabouts it lies, but the judg- 
 ment of particular cases wherein, or of the very pitch and 
 degree of malignity wherewith, it is committed, he hath 
 reserved to hunself ; intending further to strive with 
 persons by his Spirit, while he judges them yet within the 
 reach of mercy, or withhold it, when he sees any to have 
 arrived to that culminating pitch of malignity and 
 obstinacy, wherein he shall judge this sin specially to con- 
 sist ? And what inconvenience is it to suppose he hath left 
 this matter, touching the degree, humanly undeterminable ? 
 The knowledge of it can do them who have committed it no 
 good : and probably they have by it so blinded and 
 stupified their own souls, as to have made themselves very 
 little capable of apprehending that they have conmiitted 
 it, or of considering whether they have or no. But they 
 are sunk into a deep abyss of darkness and death, so as 
 that such knowledge may be as little possible, as it would 
 be useful to them. All their faculties of intellection, con- 
 sideration, and self-reflection, being (as to any such exer- 
 cise) bound up in a stupefying dead sleep. 
 
94 APPENDIX. 
 
 And to what purpose should they have a rule by which 
 to determine a case, who — 1. Can receive no benefit by the 
 determination, and — 2. Who are supposed when they use 
 it, to have no faculty sufficiently apt to make this sad (but 
 true) judgment of their case by it 1 But for them who 
 have not committed it, and who are consequently yet capable 
 of benefit by what should be made known about it, there 
 is, therefore, enough made known for their real use and 
 benefit. It will, 
 
 1. Be of real use to many such, to know their danger of 
 running into it. And it is sufficient to that purpose, that 
 they are plainly told wherein the general nature of it con- 
 sists, or whereabouts it lies ; without shewing them the 
 very point that hath certain death in it ; or letting them 
 know just how near they may approach it, without being 
 sure to perish, when there is danger enough in every step 
 they take toward it. As if there were some horrid desert, 
 into any part whereof no man hath any business to come, 
 but in some part whereof there is a dreadful gulf, whence 
 arises a contagious halitus, which, if he come within the 
 verge of it, will be certainly poisonous and mortal to him. 
 What need is there that any man should know just how 
 near he may come, without being sure to die for it 1 He is 
 concerned to keep himself at a cautious awful distance. 
 
 2. It may be of great use to others, that are affli-cted 
 with very torturing fears lest they have committed it, to 
 know that they have not. And they have enough also to 
 satisfy them in the case. For their very fear itself, with its 
 usual concomitants in such afflicted minds, is an argument 
 to them that they have not. While they find in themselves 
 any value of divine favour, any dread of his wrath, any 
 disposition to consider the state of their souls, with any 
 thought or design of turning to God, and making their 
 peace ; they have reason to conclude God hath hitherto 
 kept them out of that fearful gulf ; and is yet in the way, 
 and in treaty with them. For since we are not sufficient 
 to think any thing (that good is) of ourselves, it is much 
 more reasonable to ascribe any such thought or agitation 
 
APPENDIX. 96 
 
 of spirit that have this design to liim, than to ourselves, 
 and to account that he is yet at work with us (at least in 
 the way of common grace), though when our thoughts 
 drive towards a conclusion against ourselves, that we have 
 committed that sin, and towards despair thereupon, we 
 are to apprehend a mixture of temptation in them, which 
 we are concerned earnestly to watch and pray against. 
 And yet even such temptation is an argument of such a 
 one's not havmg committed that sin. For such as the 
 devil may apprehend more likely to have committed it 
 (and 'tis not to be thought he can be sure who have), he 
 will be less apt to trouble with such thoughts, not know- 
 ing what the issue of that unquietness may prove, and 
 apprehending it may occasion their escaping quite out of 
 his snare. And I do conceive this to be a safer method, of 
 satisfying such as are perplexed with this fear in our days, 
 than to be positive in stating that sin so, or limiting it to 
 such circumstances, as shall make it impossible to be com- 
 mitted in this age of the world. For let it be seriously 
 considered, whether it be altogether an unsupposable thing, 
 that, with some in our days, there may be an equivalency, 
 in point of light and evidence of the truth of Christianity, 
 unto what these Jews had, whom our Saviour warns of 
 the danger of this sin, at that time when he so warned 
 them ; his warning and cautioning them about it, implies 
 that he judged them at least in a possibilit}", at that time, 
 of incurring the guilt of it ; if the text Matt. xii. do not 
 also imply that he reckoned them, then, actually to have 
 committed it. For it is said, ver. 25, he knew their thoughts, 
 I. e. considered the temper of their minds, and thereupon 
 said to them what follows concerning it. Let us consider 
 wherein their advantage towards their being ascertained 
 of the truth of the Christian religion, was greater than 
 we now can have. It was, chiefly, in this respect greater, 
 that they had a nearer and more immediate knowledge 
 of the matter of fact, wherein that evidence which our 
 Saviour refei-s to did consist. A more immediate way 
 of knowing it they had ; the most immediate the persons 
 
96 APPENDIX. 
 
 whom he warns (or charges) seem not to have had ; for 
 tliose Pharisees, it is said, heard of the cure of the demo- 
 niac, not that tliey saw it. They took it upon the (no 
 doubt sufficiently credible) report of others. Now let it 
 be further considered, what we have to balance this one 
 single advantage. We have, to intelligent considering per- 
 sons, rationally sufficient evidence of the same matter of 
 fact. But how great things, that have since followed, have 
 we the sufficiently certain knowledge of besides, beyond 
 what they had in view, at that time ! As the wonderful 
 death of our Lord^ exactly according to prediction, in many 
 respects, together with all the unforetold amazing circum- 
 stances that attended it ! his more wonderful resurrection, 
 upon which so great a stress is laid for demonstrating the 
 truth of the religion he taught : the destruction of Jeru- 
 salem, as he foretold, and the shattered condition of the 
 Jewish nation, as was also foretold, ever since : the strange 
 success of the gospel in the first, and some following ages, 
 by so unlikely means, against the greatest opposition 
 imaginable, both of Jews and pagans. Not to insist on the 
 apostasy foretold, in the Christian church, with many more 
 things that might be mentioned. Let it be considered 
 whether the want of so immediate way of knowing some 
 of these things be not abundantly compensated by the 
 greatness of the other things that are however sufficiently 
 knoAvn. And if such as have wit and leisure to consider 
 these things in our days, are often pressed to consider them, 
 have them frequently represented, and laid before their 
 eyes, if such, I say, have in view as great evidence, upon 
 the whole, of the truth of Christianity, as these Pharisees 
 had ; it is then further to be considered, whetber it be not 
 possible that some such may equal the Jewish malice, 
 against the holy design of our religion. To which I only 
 say, the Lord grant that none may. But if there be really 
 cause to apprehend such a danger, some other way should 
 be thought of to cure the trouble of some, than by the 
 danger and (too probable) ruin of others. However, none 
 should themselves make their own case incurable, by con- 
 
APPENDIX. 97 
 
 eluding that they have sinned that sin, or hy believing 
 they are, otherwise, forsaken and rejected of God ; so as 
 that he will never more assist their endeavour to repent, 
 and turn to him through the Mediator. 
 
 If it be inquired here, since, as hath been shewn, some 
 may be quite forsaken of God, while yet they live in the 
 Avorld ; ought such to believe then they are not forsaken, 
 and so believe an untruth that they may make it true, or 
 try if they can better their condition by it ? I answer, nor 
 that neither. For that God will further assist an obstinate 
 sinner, that hath long resisted his Spirit, and despised his 
 mercy, is no matter of promise to him, and so no matter 
 of faith. When he doth conquer, at length, any such, 'tis 
 of mere unpromised favour (as was also she^vn) ; whereof 
 therefore he gives others no ground to despair ; and for 
 which they are deeply concerned, with great earnestness, 
 to supplicate. But if it be said, how can they pray for 
 that w^iereof they have no promise ? and can have no faith, 
 since what is not of faith is sin, Rom. xiv. 23. I answer, 
 that passage of Scripture would, in this case, be nmch 
 misapplied. It speaks not of faith concerning the certainty 
 of any event to be expected, but the lawfulness of a work 
 to be done, and of doubting, not concernmg the event, but 
 my owTi act. Can any man in his wits doubt concerning 
 his own act in this case ? whether it be better to pray for 
 the grace of God to save him, than slight it and perish ? 
 Nor are they without very encouraging promises concern- 
 ing the event, that God will be a rewarder of them that 
 diligently seek him, Heb. xi. 6. And that whosoever shall 
 call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved, Rom. x. 13, 
 which promises, 'tis true, the context of both shews, do 
 speak of believing prayer. They are to faith, not of it, 
 and import, that God will reward and save the believer : 
 not that he will give faith to the obstinate, contemptuous 
 unbeliever. If he do this, 'tis (as was said) of unpromised 
 bounty. But though they are not promises to give faith, 
 they should induce it ; and incline sinners to cast them- 
 selves down before the throne of so gracious a God, and 
 
98 APPENDIX. 
 
 seek grace to help them in their need, in confidence that 
 he will never reject penitent believing prayer. They, in- 
 deed, that for their former wilful sinning are utterly for- 
 saken of God, will not thus apply themselves ; but our 
 question is not what they will do, but what they should. 
 Because they would not, therefore they were forsaken, and 
 because they yet will not, they are still and finally for- 
 saken. Their refusal proceeds not from any discourage- 
 ment God hath given them, but from the malignity of 
 their own hearts. God hath not repealed his gospel to- 
 wards them. The connexion continues firm between the 
 perceptive and promissory parts of it. Their infidelity is 
 not become their duty, but remains their heinous sin, and 
 the more deeply heinous by how much their own malig- 
 nity holds them more strongly in it. 
 
 Unto what also is discoursed concerning anger and grief 
 (or other passions), ascribed to God, it will not be unfit 
 here to add, that unless they be allowed to signify real 
 aversion of will, no account is to be given what reality in 
 him they can signify at all. For to say (what some do 
 seem to satisfy themselves wdth) that they are to be im- 
 derstood secundum effectum, not secundum affectum, though 
 true as to the negative part, is, as to the affirmative, very 
 defective and short ; for the effects of anger and grief, 
 upon which those names are put, when spoken of God, 
 are not themselves in him, but in us. But we are 
 still at a loss what they signify in him. Such effects 
 must have some cause. And if they be effects which he 
 works, they must have some cause in himself that is 
 before them, and productive of them. This account leaves 
 us to seek what that cause is, that is signified by these 
 names. That it cannot be any passion, as the same names 
 are wont to signify with us, is out of question. Nor indeed 
 do those names primarily, and most properly, signify 
 passion in ourselves. The passion is consequently only by 
 reason of that inferior nature in us, which is susceptible of 
 it. But the aversion of our mind and will is before it, and, 
 in another subject, very separable from it, and possible to 
 
APPENDIX. 99 
 
 be without it. In the blessed God we cannot understand 
 any thing less is signified than real displeasure at the 
 things whereat he is said to be angry or grieved. 
 
 Our shallow reason indeed is apt to suggest in these 
 matters, Why is not that prevented that is so displeasing 1 
 And it would be said with equal reason in reference to all 
 sin permitted to be in the world, Why was it not prevented ? 
 And what is to be said to this ? Shall it be said that sin doth 
 not displease God ? that he hath no will against sin 1 it 
 is not repugnant to his will ? Yes ; it is to his revealed 
 will, to his law. But is that an untrue revelation ? His 
 law is not his will itself, but the signum, the discovery of 
 his will. Now, is it an insignificant sign 1 a sign that 
 signifies nothing ? or to which there belong no correspon- 
 dent significatum 1 nothing that is signified by it ? Is that 
 which is signified (for sure no one will say it signifies 
 nothing) his real will, yea or no 1 who can deny it 1 That 
 will, then (and a most calm, sedate, impassionate will it 
 must be understood to be), sin, and consequently the con- 
 sequent miseries of his creatures, are repugnant unto. And 
 what will is that ? 'Tis not a peremptory will concerning 
 the event, for the event falls out otherwise ; which were, 
 upon that supposition, impossible ; for who hath resisted 
 his will ? as was truly intimated by the personated ques- 
 tionist (Rom. ix. 19), but impertinently, when God's will 
 of another (not a contrary) kind, i. e. concerning another 
 object, was in the same breath referred unto, Why doth he yet 
 find fault ? 'Tis not the will of the event that is the mea- 
 sure of faultiness ; for then there could not have been sin 
 in the world, nor consequently misery, which only, by the 
 Creator's pleasure, stands connected with it. For nothing 
 could fall out against that irresistible will. The objector 
 then destroys his own objection, so absurdly, and so mani- 
 festly, as not to deserve any other reply than that which 
 he meets with. Nay, but who art thou, man, that 
 repliest against God 1 
 
 And what is the other object about which the divine 
 will is also conversant ? Matter of duty, and what stands 
 
100 APPENDIX. 
 
 in connexion with it, not abstractly and separately, "but 
 as it is so connected, our felicity. This is objectively 
 another will, as we justly distinguish divine acts, that re- 
 spect the creature, by their indifferent objects. Against 
 this will falls out all the sin and misery in the world. 
 
 All this seems plain and clear, but is not enough. For 
 it may be further said, When God wills this or that to be 
 my duty, doth he not will this event, viz. my doing it ? 
 otherwise wherein is his will withstood, or not fulfilled, in 
 my not doing it ? He willed this to be my duty, and it is 
 so. I do not nor can hinder it from being so, yet I do it 
 not, and that he willed not. If all that his will meant was 
 that this should be my duty, but my doing it was not 
 intended ; his will is entirely accomplished, it hath its full 
 effect, in that such things are constituted, and do remain 
 my duty, upon his signification of this his will, my not 
 doing it not being within the compass of the object, or the 
 thing willed. 
 
 If it be said, he willed my doing it, i. e. that I should do 
 it, not that I shall, the same answer will recur, viz. that 
 his will hath still its full effect, this effect still remaining, 
 that I should do it, but that I shall he willed not. 
 
 It may be said, I do plainly go against his will however ; 
 for his will was that I should do so or so, and I do not 
 what he willed I should. 'Tis true, I go herein against his 
 will, if he willed not only my obligation, but my action 
 according to it. And indeed it seems altogether unreason- 
 able, and unintelligible, that he should will to oblige me to 
 that, which he doth not will me to do. 
 
 Therefore it seems out of question, that the holy God 
 doth constantly and perpetually, in a true sense, will 
 universal obedience, and the consequent felicity of all his 
 creatures capable thereof ; ^. e. he doth will it with simple 
 complacency, as what were highly grateful to him, simply 
 considered by itself. Who can doubt, but that purity, 
 holiness, blessedness, wheresoever they were to be beheld 
 among his creatures, would be a pleasing and delightful 
 spectacle to him, being most agreeable to the perfect 
 
APPENDIX. 101 
 
 excellency, purity, and benignity of his own nature, and 
 that their deformity and misery must be consequently un- 
 pleasing ? But he doth not etficaciously will every tiling 
 that he truly wills. He never willed the obedience of all 
 his intelligent creatures so, as effectually to make them 
 all obey, nor their happiness, so as to make them all be 
 happy, as the event shews. Nothing can be more certain, 
 than that he did not so will these things ; for then nothing 
 could have fallen out to the contrary, as we see much hath. 
 Nor is it at all unworthy the love and goodness of his 
 nature not so to have willed, with that effective will, the 
 universal fulness, sinlessness, and felicity of all his intelli- 
 gent creatures. The divine nature comprehends all excel- 
 lencies in itself, and is not to be limited to that one only 
 of benignity, or an aptness to acts of beneficence. For 
 then it were not infinite, not absolutely perfect, and so not 
 divine. All the acts of his will must be consequently 
 conformable and agreeable to the most perfect wisdom. He 
 doth all things according to the counsel of his will. He 
 wills, 'tis true, the rectitude of our actions, and what would 
 be consequent thereto, but he first, and more principally, 
 wills the rectitude of his own. And he wills not only not to do 
 an unrighteous, but not an inept, or unfit thing. We find he 
 did not think it fit efficaciously to provide concerning all 
 men, that they should be made obedient and happy, as he 
 hath concerning some. That in the general he makes a 
 difference, is to be attributed to his wisdom, i. e. his wisdom 
 hath in the general made this determination, not to deal 
 with all alike, and so we find it ascribed to his wisdom that 
 he doth make a difference : and in what a transport is the 
 holy apostle in the contemplation and celebration of it 
 upon this account ! Rohi. xi. 33. "0 the depth of the 
 riches both of the v/isdom and knowledge of God ! how 
 unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding 
 out !** But now when, in particular, he ^mes to make this 
 difference between one person and another, there being no 
 reason in the object to determine him this way, more than 
 that, his designing some for the objects of special favour, 
 
102 APPENDIX. 
 
 and waving others (as to such special favour), when all 
 were in themselves alike ; in that case wisdom hath not so 
 proper an exercise, but it is the work of free, unobliged 
 sovereignty here to make the choice. " Having predestinated 
 us unto the adoption of children, by Jesus Christ, to himself, 
 according to the good pleasure of his will," Ephes. i. 5. 
 
 Yet in the mean time, while God doth not efficaciously 
 will all men's obedience introductive of their happiness, 
 doth it follow he wills it not really at all ? To say he wills 
 it efficaciously, were to contradict experience, and his word ; 
 to say he wills it not really, were equally to contradict his 
 word. He doth will it, but not primarily, and as the more 
 principal object of his will, so as to effect it notwithstanding 
 whatsoever unfitness he apprehends in it, viz. that he so 
 overpower all, as to make them obedient and happy. He 
 really wills it, but hath greater reasons than this or that 
 man's salvation, why he effects it not. And this argues 
 no imperfection in the divine will, but the perfection of it, 
 that he wills things agreeably to the reasonableness and 
 fitness of them. 
 
UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS: 
 
 A DISCOURSE ANSWERING THE FOLI-OWINO QinBSTION- 
 
 •#; 
 
 WHAT MiT MO*? ■aririri.tT ■■ ^TTmrrtD to allat AMmosrrm mono rMTicTAMn, 
 
 »»AT O0> BITMIOHl MAT MOT BB OnB »VH« .'" 
 
UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS, 
 
 " That their hearts might be comforted, being knit together in Jove, and unto all 
 riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgment of the 
 mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ."— Col. ii. 2. 
 
 This question is propounded to me ; " What may most 
 hopefully be attempted to allay animosities among protest- 
 ants, that our divisions may not be our ruin ?" I must 
 liere, in the first place, tell you how I understand this 
 question. 1. As to the end, the preventing our ruin ; I 
 take the meaning chiefly to be, not the ruin of our estates, 
 trade, houses, families ; not our ruin, in these respects, 
 who are Christians, but our ruin as we are Christians, t. e. 
 the ruin of our Christianity itself, or of the truly Christian 
 interest among us. 2. As for the means inquired after, I 
 understand not the question to intend, what is to be done 
 or attempted by laws, and public constitutions, as if our 
 business were to teach our absent rulers, or prescribe to 
 them what they should do, to whom we have no present 
 call, or opportunity, to apply ourselves. Nor again can it 
 be thought our business, to discuss the several questions 
 that are controverted among us, and shew, in each, what 
 is the truth and right, wherewith every man's conscience 
 ought to be satisfied, and in which we should all meet and 
 unite : as if we had the vanity to think of performing, by 
 an hour's discourse, what the voluminous writings of some 
 ages have not performed. Much less are we to attempt 
 the persuading of any to go against an already formed 
 judgment in these points of difference, for the sake of 
 union ; and to seek the peace of the church, by breaking 
 their peace with God, and their o\vn consciences. 
 
106 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 But I take the question only to intend, what serious 
 Chl-istians may, and ought, to endeavour, in their private 
 capacities, and agreeably with their own principles, towards 
 the proposed end. And so I conceive th^ words read to 
 you, contain the materials of a direct and full answer to 
 the question. "Which I reckon will appear, — by opening 
 the case the apostle's words have reference to ; that will be 
 found a case like our o^vn ; and — by opening the words, 
 whereby their suitableness to that cose will be seen, and 
 consequently to our case also. 
 
 1. The case which these words have reference to (as 
 indeed the general aspect of the epistle, and in great part 
 of the other apostolical letters, looks much the same way) 
 was in short this : That a numerous sect was already sprung 
 up, that began (so early) to corrupt the simplicity and 
 purity of the Christian religion, and very much to distui-b 
 the peace of the Christian church. A sort they were of 
 partly judaizing, partly paganizing Christians, the disciples, 
 as they are reputed, of Simon Magus, who joined with the 
 name Christian the rites and ceremonies of the Jews, with 
 the impurities (even in worship) of the Gentiles, denying 
 the more principal doctrines, and hating the holy design, 
 of Christianity itself, while they seemed to have assumed, 
 or to retain, •the name, as it were on purpose the more 
 effectually to wound and injure the Christian cause and 
 interest. Men of high pretence to knowledge (whence they 
 had the title of Gnostics), filched partly from the Jewish 
 cabbalism, partly from the Pythagorean. By which pre- 
 tence they insinuated the more plausibly with such as 
 aflfected the knowledge of more hidden mysteries. Whereto 
 the apostle seems to have reference, w^here he adds imme- 
 diately after the text, that in Christ were hid all the trea- 
 sures of wisdom and knowledge, ver. 3. And says, he did 
 purposely add it, lest any man should beguile them with 
 enticing words ; intimating, there was no need to follow 
 those vain pretenders, out of an affectation of sublimer 
 knowledge, and forsake Christ in whom all the treasures 
 of wisdom and knowledge were hid. 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 107 
 
 Of the progress and genius of this sect, not only some of 
 the fathers of the church give an account,* but even 
 a noted philosopher t among the heathens, who writes 
 professedly against them (though not a word against Chris- 
 tians as such), both making it his business to refute their 
 absurd doctrines (that the world was in its nature evil, 
 and not made by God, but by some evil angel, &c.), and 
 representing them as men of most immoral principles and 
 practices ; worse, both in respect of their notions and 
 morals, than Epicurus himself. It appears this sort of 
 men did, in the apostles' days, not only set themselves, 
 with great art and industry, to pervert as many professors 
 of Christianity as they could, but found means (as they 
 might by their compliances with the Jews, who were then 
 much spread, and numerously seated in sundry principal 
 cities under the Roman power, and who were every where 
 the bitterest enemies to Christianity) to raise persecution 
 against them they could not pervert, which some passages 
 seem to intimate in the epistle to the Galatians (who, as 
 that whole epistle shews, were much leavened by this sect, 
 insomuch that the apostle is put to travail as in birth again 
 to have Christ formed in them, and to reduce them back 
 to sincere Christianity), viz. that some leaders of this sect 
 so set the people's minds even against the apostle himself, 
 that he began to be reputed by them as an enemy (chap. 
 iv. 16), and was persecuted under that notion, because he 
 would not comply with them in the matter of circumcision 
 (urged as an engagement to the whole law of Moses), chap. 
 V. 11. "If I yet preach circumcision, why do I yet suffer 
 persecution ? then is the offence of the cross ceased." And 
 that they were as mischievous as they could be, to fellow- 
 Christians, on the same account, biting and devouring them 
 that received not their corrupting additions to Christianity, 
 as the circumstances of the text shew, ver. 15. 
 
 How like a case this is to ours, with our popish enemies, 
 1 need not tell you. And now in this case ; when the 
 
 ♦ Clemens Alexandr. Irenaeus, Epiphanius, &c. 
 t Plotinus, Ennead 2, 1. 9. 
 
108 CONCER]MXG UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 faith of many was overthrown, so much hurt was already 
 done, and the danger of greater was so manifest, partly by 
 the most insinuating methods of seduction, partly by the 
 terror of persecution, the great care was to secure the 
 uncorrupted residue, and preserve unextinct the true 
 Christian interest. 
 
 The urgency of this case puts the solicitous, concerned 
 spirit of this great apostle into an inexpressible agony, as 
 his words do intimate : I would you knew what conflict 
 I have, and not for these Colossians only, but for them 
 of Laodicea (which was not very remote from Colosse), and 
 for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh : for it 
 was a common case, and upon him lay the care of all the 
 churches. So that hence his musing, meditative mind, 
 could not but be revolving many thoughts, and casting 
 about for expedients, how the threatening danger might be 
 obviated and averted. And these in the text, which he 
 fastens upon, and wherein his thoughts centre, how apt 
 and proper they were to that case (and consequently to 
 ours which so little differs) will be seen. 
 
 2. By our opening and viewing the import of the text 
 itself : Wherein he, 
 
 1. Proposes to himself the end which he apprehended 
 was most desirable, and above all things to be coveted for 
 them ; That their hearts might be comforted. A word of 
 much larger signification than in vulgar acceptation it is 
 understood to be. Ila^axaXiw signifies (with profane as 
 well as the sacred writers) not only to administer consola- 
 tion to a grieved mind, but to exhort, quicken, excite, and 
 animate, to plead and strive with dull and stupid, wavering 
 and unresolved, minds. It was thought indeed comprehen- 
 sive enough to express all the operations of the divine 
 spirit upon the souls of men, when not only the Christian 
 cluirch, but the world, yet to be Christianized, was to be 
 the subject of them, as we see, John, xvi. 8. In respect 
 whereof that Holy Spirit hath his name of office, the para- 
 clete, from this word. And it being the passive that is here 
 used, it signifies not only the endeavours themselves, which 
 
CONCERNIKG UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 109 
 
 are used to the purpose here intended, but the effect of them 
 ■wherein they all terminate, a lively, vigorous, confirmed 
 state and habit of soul : and that not indefinite, but deter- 
 mined to one thing, the Christian faith and profession, 
 which the apostle's drift and scope plainly shew. 'Tis not 
 to be thought, he so earnestly coveted and strove, that they 
 might be jocund, cheerful, abounding with joy and courage, 
 in any course, right or wrong ; but that they might be 
 encouraged, established, confirmed in their Christianity. 
 And if the word he here uses were large enough to signify 
 (as was noted above) all that was necessary to make men 
 Christians, it may as well, all that is necessary to continue 
 them such. 
 
 In short, the end which the apostle aims at, the -ra^a- 
 ySkriCig intended to these Christians, was their establishment 
 and confirmed state in their Christianity, as the effect of all 
 apostolical or ministerial exhortations, persuasions, encou- 
 ragements, or any whatsoever endeavours ; made efficacious 
 to that purpose by the powerful influence and operation of 
 the Holy Ghost. And that it was no lower thing than 
 this, we have sufficient evidence, by comparing the close 
 of the foregoing chapter with the beginning of this. 
 "Where we find, chap. i. 28, the avowed design of his 
 preaching, warning, and teaching in all wisdom, was that 
 he might present every man perfect in Christ Jesus. That 
 whereas there were various arts and endeavours used, to 
 adulterate the Christian religion, and pervert men from the 
 simplicity of it, he might lose none, but to his very utter- 
 most keep all in a possibility of being presented perfect in 
 Christ Jesus at last, i. e. that they might be all entire, 
 complete, and persevering Christians to the end. And for 
 this he adds, ver. 29, he did labour, striving according to 
 his working, which wrought in him mightily. All his 
 labour, and the strivings of his soul, acted by divine power, 
 and by a Spirit greater than his own, did aim at this end. 
 And now hereupon he intimates how fervid these his 
 strivings were, ch. ii. 1. I would you did but know (what 
 it is not for me to say) jJX/xov ayiva, what an agony I en- 
 
110 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 dure ! how great this my conflict is for you, and for them 
 at Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in 
 the flesh ! And for what ? That their hearts might be com- 
 forted (as we read), meaning manifestly the same thing 
 he had expressed before ; that notwithstanding all endea- 
 vours of others to the contrary, they might be complete 
 and confirmed Christians to the last. 
 
 2. We have next to consider in the text the means, or 
 what expedients the apostle conceives would be most effec- 
 tually conducing to this blessed purpose. They are two, — 
 mutual love to one another ; — and a clear, certain, effica- 
 cious faith of the gospel. The former is shortly and plainly 
 expressed ; the other by a copious and most emphatical 
 periphrasis, or circumlocution. He most earnestly covets to 
 have them knit together by both &v/j.(3i[3affdivroov, compacted, 
 as the word imports, in the one love, h dyd'TrTj, and unto or 
 into the other, as that particle signifies £/'; Trdvra, &c. 
 
 1 . Mutual love to one another : q. d. The thing were done, 
 or much were done towards it, if they were knit together 
 in love, compacted, made all of a piece, if by love they did 
 firmly cohere, and cleave to one another : for then it would 
 be one and all : and 'tis scarce ever supposable they should 
 all agree to quit their religion at once. But if that were to 
 be supposed, he adds another thing that would put all out 
 of doubt. 
 
 2. A clear, certain, efficacious faith of the gospel. For 
 the several expressions that follow are but a description of 
 such a faith. Where we are to note, — what he would have 
 them apprehend, — and the apprehensive principle. 
 
 1 . What he would have them apprehend : viz. the sum 
 and substance of the Christian doctrine, which he calls a 
 mystery, both because it was so in itself, and 'tis often 
 spoken of under that name, by om* Lord himself, Matt. 
 xiii. 11, and familiarly by this apostle, Rom. xvi. 25 ; 
 Ephes. iii. 3, 9 ; Col. i. 26, and elsewhere ; and because of 
 the high pretence of the Gnostics to the knowledge of 
 mysteries, which sometimes he slights ; especially being 
 unaccompanied with love, as, with them, it most eminently 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PllOTESTANTS. 11] 
 
 was. " Though I understand all mysteries, and all know- 
 ledge, and have no charity, I am nothing," 1 Cor. xiii. 2. 
 " Knowledge pufFeth up, love edifies," chap, viii. 1. Some- 
 times, as here, he makes the sincere doctrine of the gospel to 
 outvie theirs herein, intimating that such as made profes- 
 sion of it could have no temptation to go over to them for 
 the knowledge of mysteries (unless a mystery of iniquity 
 were more pleasing to them), whose very religion was that 
 great mystery of godliness. " God was manifested in the 
 flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto 
 the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into 
 glory," 1 Tim. iii. 16. 
 
 Now this mystery he, first, more generally characterizes, 
 hy calling it the mystery of God, a divine mystery, not 
 made one by merely human fiction ; and then he very 
 distinctly specifies it in the following words, " and of the 
 Father, and of Christ." Where the former aiid needs not 
 be thought copulative, but exegetical, and might be read 
 even, or to wit; or it may be read, both, as 'tis usual with 
 the Greeks as well as Latins when the copulative is to be 
 repeated, so to read the former. As if it were said, By 
 the mystery of God I mean, not of God alone, and abstract- 
 edly considered, as if it were enough to you to be mere 
 Deists ; and that the whole superadded revelation concern- 
 ing the Mediator, might be looked upon with indifferency 
 or neglect (as by the Gnostics it was known then to be, 
 and afterwards by some of their great leaders, in the sub- 
 stance of it, with downright hatred and opposition) ; but 
 that which I so earnestly covet for you, and wherein I 
 would have you unite, and be all one, in the acknowledg- 
 ment of the whole mystery of God ; i. e. both of the Father 
 and of Christ. 
 
 2. The apprehensive principle ; which we may, by a 
 general name, call faith, and accommodately enough to 
 the name here given us of its object, a mystery which 
 is elsewhere called the mystery of faith (1 Tim. iii. 9), 
 or a mystery to be believed : faith being the known prin- 
 ciple of receiving the gospel revelation. But he here ex- 
 
112 CONCERNINa UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 presses it by words that signify knowledge, cxjvzGig and 
 s'Kiym5i;, thereby intimating tliat the faith of Christians is 
 not to be a blind and unintelligent principle, but that though 
 there were contained in the gospel mysteries never to be 
 understood, if God had not afforded a special revelation of 
 them on purpose ; yet being revealed, we ought to have a 
 clear and distinct, as well as lively and practical, percep- 
 tion of them. By these two words, and the other expres- 
 sions he joins in with the former, he seems to intimate two 
 sorts of properties which belong to that faith of the gospel 
 which he wishes to them. 
 
 1 . The rectitude, clearness, and certainty of notion. 
 
 2. The efficacy, impressiveness, and immediate aptitude 
 to have influence upon practice, which he would have it 
 carry with it. The latter properties supposing and depend- 
 ing on the former, he there highly exaggerates the matter, 
 and heaps together expressions that might with most lively 
 emphasis set forth the kind of that knowledge which he 
 conceives would be of so great use to them. He wishes 
 them a auviffig, a clear, perspicacious knowledge, and an 
 assurance, even to a plerophori/, a fulness of assurance, in 
 their knowledge of the truth of the gospel. Yea he wishes 
 them the riches, taovtov, yea and all riches, Tuvra tXoZ- 
 70V Tr,g TXri^of^oPiccc, of that full assurance, or plerophor^ 
 of understanding, and knowledge of that truth ; appre- 
 hending that this would certainly fix them in their faith 
 and profession, so as they would never recede from it. As 
 when in Christ's own days many went back and walked 
 no more with him, John, vi. 66, that which retained 
 others, so that when Christ asks, " Will ye also go away ?" 
 (verse 67), they presently answer, " Lord, to whom shall 
 we go ? " could entertain no such thought, was, that, 
 besides what they believed of him was of greatest import- 
 ance to them, " Thou hast the words of eternal life," verse 68. 
 So their belief was with that assurance as to exclude all 
 suspicion or doubt in the case : " And we believe and are 
 sure that thou art that Christ the Son of the living God," 
 verse 69, and therefore neither canst want power to confer 
 
COXCERNING CNION AMONG PROTEST A^'TS. 113 
 
 eternal life, as all thy words do import thy design and 
 promise to do, nor truth to make good thy own plain words. 
 And then he also knew that such a g(jvs<Ti; or knowledje 
 would produce, what he further wishes them, an i'x'rp^- 
 cig, and acknoidedgment, an inward, vital owning, a cordial 
 embrace, a lively perception of the same blessed truths, 
 which must needs further most abundantly contribute to 
 this their so much desired joint and unanimous stability. 
 
 And now these are the two expedients by which he 
 reckons they would be so closely compacted together as 
 that no subtlety or violence could endanger them ; mutual 
 love, and a clear, certain, operative faith of the gospel ; if^ 
 by the one, they did cohere with each other ; and by the 
 other, adhere to God in Christ ; if the one might have with 
 them the place, power, and bindingness of a cement, the 
 other, of a continual inclination, yieldingness, and compli- 
 ance to the magnetism of the centre, they would never so 
 fall asunder as to give any enemies opportunity to be 
 the successful authors, or the gratified spectators, of their 
 ruin. Thus therefore I would sum up the sense of this 
 scripture, and the answer to the question proposed. — " That 
 the maintaining of sincere love among Christians, and the 
 improving of their faith to greater measures of clearness, 
 certainty, and efficacy in reference to the substantials of 
 Christianity,* are to be endeavoured as the best means to 
 unite, establish, and preserve them, against such as design 
 the ruin of the truly Christian interest," — The case was 
 at that time urging and important- A great and numerous 
 party was formed, of such as did nauseate the simplicity of 
 the Christian religion, and hate the true design of it. All 
 the care was what course was most proper and suitable to 
 preserve the rest. And you see what was then thought 
 most proper. Counsel was not taken to this effect (and 
 therefore Christians in a private capacity should not covet 
 to have it so), " Let us bind them by certain devised 
 preter-evangelical canons to things never thought fit to be 
 enjoined by Christ himself, severely urge the strict and 
 uniform observance of them, make the terais of Christiaai 
 
114 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 communion straiter than he ever made them, add new 
 rituals of our ovm to his institutions, and cut off from us 
 all that (never so conscientiously) scruple them." No, this 
 was the practice of their common enemies, and it was to 
 narrow and vreaken the too much already diminished 
 Christian interest. The order mentioned ver. 5, might be 
 comely enough, without things that were both imnecessary 
 and offensive. 
 
 Nor was it consulted and resolved to agitate the contro- 
 versy about this power and practice, in perpetual, endless 
 disputations, and stigmatize them that should not be 
 enlightened and satisfied in these matters, as schismatical 
 and wilful : though they never so sincerely adhered to the 
 doctrine, and observed the laws, of Christ, i. e. 'twas neither 
 thought fit to urge the unsatisfied upon doubtful things 
 against their consciences, nor to take order that continual 
 endeavours should be used from age to age to satisfy them, 
 or that the church should be always vexed with vain 
 controversies about needless things ; that, if they were never 
 so lawful, might as well be let alone, without detriment to 
 the Christian cause, and perhaps to its greater advantage. 
 Yea, the attempt of imposing any thing upon the disciples 
 but what was necessary, is judged a tempting of God 
 (Acts, XV. 10), a bringing the matter to a trial of skill with 
 him, whether he could keep the church quiet, when they 
 took so direct a course to distemper and trouble it. But 
 it was thought necessary, and sufficient, that all did unite, 
 and were knit together in the mutual love of one another, 
 and in a joint adherence to the great mysteries of faith and 
 salvation. 
 
 In the same case, when there were so many antichrists 
 abroad, and (it is likely) Ebion with his partakers made it 
 their business to pervert the Christian doctrine, the same 
 course is taken by the blessed apostle St John, only to 
 endeavour the strengthening of these two vital principles, 
 faith in Christ and love to fellow-Christians, as may be 
 seen at large in his epistles. These he presses, as the great 
 commandments, upon the obsewation whereof he seems to 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 115 
 
 account the safety and peace of the sincere did entirely 
 depend. This is his commandment, that we should be- 
 lieve on the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and love one 
 another, as he gave us commandment, 1 Epistle, iii. 23. 
 He puts upon Christians no other distinguishing test, but 
 Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ, is born of 
 God : and Every one that loveth him that begat, loveth 
 liim also that is begotten of him (chap. v. 1) : is only 
 solicitous that they did practise the commandment they 
 had from the beginning, i. e. that they loved one another 
 (2 Epist. 5), and that they did abide in the doctrine of 
 Christ, ver. 9. 
 
 The prudence and piety of those unerring guides of the 
 church (themselves under the certain guidance of the 
 Spirit of truth), directed them to bring the things wherein 
 they would have Christians unite, within as narrow a 
 compass as was possible, neither multiplying articles of 
 faith nor rites of worship. These two principles (as they 
 were thought to answer the apostles) would fully answer 
 our design and present enquiry. And we may adventure 
 to say of them that they are both sufficient and necessary, 
 the apt and the only means to heal and save us ; such as 
 would effect our cure, and without which nothing will. 
 
 Nor shall I give other answer to the proposed question, 
 than what may be deduced from these two, considered 
 according to what they are in themselves, and what they 
 naturally lead and tend unto. I shall consider them in the 
 order wherein the apostle here mentions them, who you see 
 reserves the more important of them to the latter place. 
 
 1. The sincere love of Christians to one another, would 
 be a happy means of preserving the truly Christian in- 
 terest among us. That this may be understood, we must 
 rightly apprehend what kind of love it is that is here meant. 
 It is specified by what we find in conjunction with it, the 
 understanding and acknowledgment of the mystery of Chris- 
 tianity. Therefore it must be the love of Christians to one 
 another as such. Whence we collect, lest we too much 
 
116 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PKOTESTANTS. 
 
 extend the object of it on the one hand, or contract it on 
 the other. 
 
 1, That it is not the love only which we owe to one 
 another as men, or human creatures merely, that is intended 
 here. That were too much to enlarge it, as to our present 
 consideration of it. For under that common notion, we 
 should be as much obliged to love the enemies we are to 
 unite against, as the friends of religion we are to unite with, 
 since all partake equally in human nature. It must be a 
 more special love that shall have the desired influence in 
 the present case. We cannot be peculiarly endeared and 
 united to some more than to others, upon a reason that is 
 common to them with others. We are to love them that 
 are born of God, and are his children, otherwise than the 
 children of men, or such of whom it may be said they are. 
 of their father the devil ; them that appear to have been 
 partakers of a divine nature at another rate, than them 
 who have received a mere human, or also the diabolical 
 nature, 1 John v. 1. Yet this peculiar love is not to be 
 exclusive of the other which is common, but must suppose 
 it, and be supperadded to it, as the reason of it is superadded. 
 For Christianity supposes humanity ; and divine grace, 
 human nature. 
 
 2. Nor is it a love to Christians of this or that party or 
 denomination only. That were as much unduly to straiten 
 and confine it. The love that is owing to Christians as 
 such, as it belongs to them only, so it belongs to them who, 
 in profession and practice, do own sincere and incoiTupt 
 Christianity. To limit our Christian love to a party of 
 Christians, truly so called, is so far from serving the pur- 
 pose now to be aimed at, that it resists and defeats it ; and 
 instead of a preservative union, infers most destructive divi- 
 sions. It scatters what it should collect and gather. 'Tis 
 to love factiously ; and with an unjust love, that refuses 
 to give indifferently to every one his due (for is there no 
 love due to a disciple of Christ in the name of a disciple ?) 
 it is founded in falsehood, and a lie denies them to be of 
 
CONCEllNINOr UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 117 
 
 the Christian coniniunity ^vho really are so. It presumes 
 to remove the ancient land-marks, not civil but sacred, and 
 dra^vs on, not the people's curse only, but that of God 
 himself. 'Tis true (and ^vho doubts it ?) that I may and 
 ought upon special reasons to love some more than others ; 
 as relation, acquaintance, obligation by favours received 
 from them, more eminent degrees of true worth, and real 
 goodness ; but that signifies nothing to the Avithholding of 
 that love which is due to a Christian as such, as that also 
 ought not to prejudice the love I owe to a man, as he is a 
 man. 
 
 Nor am I so promiscuously to distribute this holy love, 
 as to place it at random, upon every one that thinks it con- 
 venient for him to call himself a Cliristian, though I ought 
 to love the very profession, while I know not who sincerely 
 make it, and do plainly see that Jews and Pagans were 
 never worse enemies to Christ and his religion, than a great 
 part of the Christian world. But let my apprehensions be 
 once set right concerning the true essentials of Christianity 
 (whether consisting in doctrinal or vital principles), then 
 will my love be duly carried to all in whom they are found 
 imder one common notion, which I come actually to apply 
 to this or that person, as particular occasions do occur 
 And so shall always be in a preparation of mind, actually 
 to unite in Christian love with every such person, when- 
 soever such occasions do invite me to it. And do we now 
 need to be told what such an impartial truly Christian love 
 would do to our common preservation, and to prevent the 
 ruin of the Christian interest 1 
 
 1 . How greatly would it contribute to the vigour of the 
 Christian life ! For so we should all equally " hold the 
 head, from which all the body by joints and bands having 
 nourishment ministered, and knit together, increaseth with 
 the increase of God ;" as afterwards in this chapter, ver. 
 19. Thus (as it is in that other parallel text of Scripture) 
 speaking the truth in love, we shall grow up into him in 
 all things, which is the head, even Christ : from whom the 
 whole body fitly joined together, and compacted by that 
 
118 CONCERNINa UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual 
 working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of 
 the body, unto the edifying of itself in love, Eph. iv. 15, 16. 
 Obstructions that hinder the free circulation of blood and 
 spirits, do not more certainly infer languishings in the 
 natural body, than the want of such a diffusive love shuts 
 up and shrivels the destitute parts, and hinders the diffu- 
 sion of a nutritive vital influence, in the body of Christ, 
 
 2. It would inspire Christians generally with a sacred 
 courage and fortitude, when they should know, and even 
 feel themselves knit together in love. How doth the revolt 
 of any considerable part of an array discourage the rest ! 
 or if they be not entire, and of a piece ! Mutual love ani- 
 mates them, as nothing more, when they are prepared to 
 live and die together, and love hath before joined, whom 
 now, their common danger also joins. They otherwise 
 signify but as so many single persons, each one but caring 
 and contriving how to shift for himself. Love makes them 
 significant to one another. So as that every one under- 
 stands himself to be the common care of all the rest. It 
 makes Christians the more resolute in their adherence to 
 truth and goodness, when (from their not doubted love) 
 they are sure of the help, the counsels, and prayers of the 
 Christian community, and apprehend, by their declining, 
 they shall grieve those whom they love, and who they 
 know love them. If any imagine themselves intended to 
 be given up, as sacrifices, to the rage of the common enemy, 
 their hearts are the apter to sink, they are most exposed to 
 temptations to prevaricate ; and the rest will be apt to 
 expect the like usage from them, if themselves be reduced 
 to the like exigency, and be liable to the same temptations. 
 
 3. It would certainly, in our present case, extinguish or 
 abate the so contrary unhallowed fire of our anger and 
 wrath towards one another, as the celestial beams do the 
 baser culinary fire, which burns more fervently when the 
 sun hath less power. Then would debates, if there must 
 be any, be managed without intemperate heat. We should 
 be remote from being angry that we cannot convey our 
 
CONCERNIXa UNION AMONG PKOTESTANTS. 119 
 
 own sentiments into another's mind ; which when we are, 
 our business is the more remote ; we make ourselves less 
 capable of reasoning aptly to convince, and (because anger 
 begets anger, as love doth love) render the other less sus- 
 ceptible of conviction. Why are we yet to learn that the 
 wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God ? 
 What is gained by it ? So little doth angry contention 
 about small matters avail, that even they that happen to 
 have the better cause lose by it, and their advantage cannot 
 recompense the damage and hurt that ensues to the church 
 and to themselves. Our famous Davenant,* speaking of 
 the noted controversy between Stephen, bishop of Rome, 
 who, he says, as much as in him lay, did with a schisma- 
 tical spirit tear the church, and Cyprian, who with great 
 lenity and Christian charity professes that he would not 
 break the Lord's peace for diversity of opinion, nor remove 
 any from the right of communion, concludes that erring 
 Cyprian deserved better of the church of Christ than 
 orthodox Stephen. He thought him the schismatic, whom 
 he thought in the right, and that his orthodoxy (as it was 
 accompanied) was more mischievous to the church, than 
 the other's error. Nor can a man do that hui-t to others, 
 without suffering it more principally. The distemper of 
 his own spirit, wliat can recompense ! and now apt is it to 
 grow in him ; and, while it grows in himself, to propagate 
 itself among others ! Whereupon, if the want of love 
 hinders the nourishment of the body, much more do tlie 
 things, which, when it is wanting, are wont to fill up its 
 place. For as naturally as love begets love, so do wrath, 
 envy, malice, calumny, beget one another, and spread a 
 poison and virulency through the body, which necessarily 
 wastes and tends to destroy it. IIow soon did the Christian 
 church cease to be itself ! and the early vigour of primitive 
 Christianity degenerate into insipid, spiritless formality, 
 when once it became contentious ! It broke into parties, 
 sects multiplied, animosities grew high, and the grieved 
 Spirit of love retired from it ! which is grieved by nothing 
 
 * Sent, ad. Dur. 
 
120 CONCEENING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 more than "by "bitterness, wrath, anger, &c. as the connexion 
 of these two verses intimates, Eph. iv. 30, 31. Grieve not 
 the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the 
 day of redemption. Let all bitterness, and Avrath, and 
 anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away fi-om 
 you, with all malice. And to the same purpose is that, 
 1 Pet. ii. 1, 2. "Wherefore la^dng aside all malice, and all 
 guile and hypocrisies, and envies, and all evil speakings, 
 as new-born babes desire the sincere milk of the word, 
 that ye may grow thereby. By this means religion, once 
 dispirited, loses its majesty and awfulness, and even tempts 
 and invites the assaults and insultations of enemies. 
 
 4, It would oblige us to all acts of mutual kindness 
 and friendship. If such a love did govern in us, we should 
 be always ready to serve one another in love, to bear each 
 other's burdens, to afford our mutual counsel and help to 
 one another, even in our private affairs if called thereto ; 
 especially in that which is our common concern, the pre- 
 serving and promoting the interest of religion ; and to our 
 uttermost strengthen each other's hands herein. It would 
 engage us to a fi-ee, amicable conversation with one another, 
 upon this account ; would not let us do so absurd a thing 
 as to confine our friendship to those of our own party, 
 which Ave might as reasonably to men of our own stature, 
 or to those whose voice, and hair, and look, and mien, were 
 likest our own. It would make us not be ashamed to be 
 seen in each other's company, or be shy of owning one 
 another. We should not be to one another as Jews and 
 Samaritans that had no dealing with one another, or as the 
 poet notes they were to other nations ; Non monstrare vias 
 mclevi nisi sacra colenti, Kot so much as to sheiv the v:ay to 
 one not of their religion. There would be no partition- wall 
 through which love would not easily open a way of friendly 
 commerce, by which we should insensibly slide, more and 
 more, into one another's hearts. Whence also, 
 
 5. Prejudices would cease, and jealousies concerning each 
 other. A mutual confidence would be begotten. We should 
 no more suspect one another of ill designs upon each other, 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 121 
 
 than lest our right hand shonld wait an opportunity of 
 cutting oft* the left. We should helieve one another in our 
 mutual professions, of whatsoever sort, hoth of kindness to 
 one another, and that we really doubt and scruple the 
 things ^^ hieh we say we do. 
 
 6. This would hence make us earnestly covet an entii'e 
 union in all the things wherein we differ, and contribute 
 greatly to it. We are too prone many times to dislike 
 things, for the disliked persons' sake who practise them. 
 And a prevailing disaffection makes us unapt to understand 
 one another ; precludes our entrance into one another's 
 mind and sense ; which if love did once open, and inclined 
 us more to consider the matters of difference themselves, 
 than to imagine some reserved meaning and design of the 
 persons that differ from us, 'tis likely we might find our- 
 selves much nearer to one another, than we did apprehend 
 we were ; and that it were a much easier step for the one 
 side to go quite over to the other. But if that cannot be, 
 
 7. It would make us much more apt to yield to one 
 another, and abate all that ever we can, in order to as full 
 an accommodation as is any way possible, that if we cannot 
 agree upon either extreme, we might at least meet in the 
 middle. It would cause an emulation who should be larger 
 in their grants to this purpose ; as it was professed by 
 Luther when so much was done at Marpurg towards an 
 agreement between him and the Helvetians, that he ^^•ould 
 not allow that praise to the other party that they should 
 be more desirous of peace and concord than he. Of which 
 amicable conference, and of that afterwards at Wittenburg, 
 and several other negociations to that purpose, account is 
 given by* divers ; and insisted on by some of our own 
 great divines, as precedential to the concord Uiey endea- 
 voured between the Saxon and the Helvetian churches 
 of later time, as Bishop Moreton, Bishop Hall, Bishop 
 Davenant, in tlieir several sentences or judgments written 
 to Mr Dury upon that subject. 
 
 * Hospinian. Histor. Sacramentar. Thuanus, &c. Though by Sculte- 
 tus's account that pretence was too little answered. 
 
122 CONCERNIKG UNION AMONG PKOTESTANTS. 
 
 And indeed wlien I have read the pacific -vvritings of 
 those eminent worthies, for the composing of those differ- 
 ences abroad, I could not but wonder that the same peace- 
 able spirit did not endeavour with more effect the composing- 
 of our own much lesser differences at home. But the things 
 of our peace were (as they still are) hid from our eyes, 
 with the more visibly just severity, by how much they 
 have been nearer us, and more obvious to the easy view 
 of any but an averse eye. It is not for us to prescribe 
 (as was said) to persons that are now in so eminent stations 
 as these were at that time. But may we not hope to 
 find with such (and where should we rather expect to 
 find it ?) that compassion and mercifulness in imitation of 
 the blessed Jesus, their Lord and ours, as to consider and 
 study the necessities of souls in these respects, and at least, 
 willingly to connive at, and very heartily approve, some 
 indulgences and abatements in the administrations of the 
 inferior clergy, as they may not think fit themselves posi- 
 tively to order and enjoin ? Otherwise I believe it could 
 not but give some trouble to a conscientious conforming 
 minister, if a sober pious person, sound in the faith, and 
 of a regular life, should tell him he is willing to use his 
 ministry, in some of the ordinances of Christ, if only he 
 would abate or dispense with some annexed ceremony which 
 in conscience he dare not use or admit of I believe it would 
 trouble such a minister to deal with a person of this cha- 
 racter as a jjagan because of his scruple, and put him upon 
 considering whether he ought not rather to dispense with 
 man's rule, than with God's. I know what the same Bishop 
 Davenant hath expressly said, that " He that believes the 
 things contained in the apostle's creed, and endeavours to 
 live a life agreeable to the precepts of Christ, ought not to 
 be expunged from the roll of Christians, nor be driven from 
 communion with the other members of any church what- 
 soever."* However, truly Christian love would do herein 
 all that it can, supplying the rest by grief that it can do 
 no more. 
 
 » Ibid. 
 
CONCEUlSlNa UNION AMONG PR0TESTANT3. 123 
 
 8. It would certainly make us abstain from mutual cen- 
 sures of one another as insincere for our remaining differ- 
 ences. Charity that thinks no evil, would make us not 
 need the reproof, Rom. xiv. 4, Who art thou that judgest 
 another's servant 1 The common aptness hereunto among 
 us shews how little that divine principle rules in our 
 hearts, that in defiance of our rule and the authority of the 
 great God and our blessed Redeemer, to whom all judg- 
 ment is committed, and who hath so expressly forbidden 
 us to judge lest we be judged (Matt. vii. 1), we give our- 
 selves so vast a liberty I and set no other bounds to our 
 usurped licence of judging, than nature hath set to our 
 power of thinking, i. e. think all the mischievous thoughts 
 of them that differ from us, that we know how to devise or 
 invent, as if we would say, " Our thoughts (and then by 
 an easy advance, our tongues) are our own, who is Lord 
 over us ?" I animadvert not on this as the fault of one 
 party, but wheresoever it lies, as God knows how diffused 
 a poison this is, among them that are satisfied with the 
 public constitutions towards them that dissent from them, 
 and with these back again towards them, and with the 
 several parties of ])oth these towards one another. This 
 uniting, knitting love would make us refrain, not merely 
 from the restraint of God's laws in this case, but from a 
 benign disposition, as that which the temper of our spirits 
 would abhor from. So that such as are well content with 
 the public forms and rites of worship, would have no in- 
 clination to judge them that apprehend not things with 
 their understandings, nor relish with their taste, as persons 
 that therefore have cut themselves off from Christ, and the 
 body of Christ. They miglit learn better from the Cassan- 
 drian moderation, and from the avowed sentiments of that 
 man* (whose temper is better to be liked than his terms of 
 union), who speaking of suc^ as being formerly rejected 
 (meaning the Protestants) for finding fault with abuses in 
 the church, had by the urgency of their conscience altered 
 somewhat in the way of their teaching, and the form of 
 
 * Ciissaader da officio pii ac publicae Tranquillitatis vere amantis virL 
 
 ^ « 
 
124 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 their service, and are therefore said to have fallen off from 
 the church, and are numhered among heretics and schis- 
 matics. It is, saith he, to be inquired how rightly and justly 
 this is determined of them. For there is to be considered, 
 as to the church, the head and the body. From the head 
 there is no departure but by doctrine disagreeable to Christ 
 the head ; from the body there is no departure by diversity 
 of rites and opinions, but only by the defect of charity. 
 So that this learned Romanist neither thinks them heretics 
 that hold the head, nor schismatics, for such differences as 
 ours are, from the rest of the body, if love and charity 
 towards them remain. And again, where this love remains, 
 and bears rule, it can as little be, that they who are un- 
 satisfied with the way of worship that more generally 
 obtains, should censure them that are satisfied as insincere, 
 merely because of this difference. It cannot permit that 
 we should think all the black thoughts we can invent of 
 them, as if because they have not our consciences they 
 had none, or because they see not with our eyes they were 
 therefore both utterly and wilfully blind. To be here 
 more particular, the most, you know, are for the public 
 Avay of worship ; and of these, some are for it as tolerable 
 only, others as the best way, and think all other ways of 
 worshipping God in assemblies (being forbidden as they 
 think by a just law) sinful. Others, dissenting, are of 
 several sorts. Some think the conformity required of 
 ministers sinful, because of previous terms required of 
 them which they judge to be so, but not that which is 
 required of the people. Of which sort, some that think it 
 not simply unlawful, find it however less edifying to them, 
 and though they can therefore partake in it at some times, 
 think themselves more ordinarily bound to attend such 
 other means as they find more conducing to their spiritual 
 profit and advantage, judging they have an undoubted 
 right from Christ, anciently allowed from age to age in the 
 best times of the Christian (^lurch, and never justly taken 
 from them, of choosing the pastors to whose ordinary care 
 and conduct they shall commit their souls. Others judge 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PKOTESTANTS. 125 
 
 the public way simply unlawful, and therefore judge 
 themselves bound to decline it wholly ; and are the more 
 averse to any participation in it, as apprehending it to have 
 no suitableness or aptitude to profit their souls : wherein 
 they are the more confirmed, that they believe not God 
 will ever bless the means which he hath not appointed. 
 Now how apt all these are unto very severe censures of 
 ciie another, he knows not the age, that is ignorant. One 
 sort censuring the other as humoursome, factious, schis- 
 matical ; the others them back again, as formal, popishly 
 affected, destitute of any savour of spiritual things, having 
 nothing of God in them, or of the life and power of god- 
 liness. 
 
 Now is this suitable to the love that should rule among 
 Christians 1 or to the reverence we ought to have for that 
 authority that forbids such judging 1 It ought to be consi- 
 dered both that all have not the same understanding, nor the 
 same gust and relish of things. 
 
 1, Not the same understanding. And therefore where 
 conscience hath the same rule, it cannot have with every 
 one the same actual latitude, that rule, being so very 
 diversely understood, which different estimate of consciences, 
 the apostle hath express reference to, in that large and most 
 healing discourse of his, Rom, xiv. One (saith he, ver. 2) 
 believeth that he may eat all things, another, who is weak, 
 eateth herbs. Nor doth he, in reference to such doubted 
 things, determine what all should do, or not do, by par- 
 ticular rules, concerning every such case, that was then 
 depending, which it seems he reckoned was not necessary, 
 or that might afterwards fall out, which was little to be 
 expected. But he lays down one general rule, against 
 judging one another, which he presses with that authority^ 
 and such awful reasons, as might make a Christian heart 
 tremble to be guilty of it. 
 
 And in reference to the mentioned difference? among 
 ourselves (as well as others no nearer to the subsiantials 
 and vitals of our religion), there is somewhat else to be 
 done than to conclude against a man's sincerity because of 
 
 . ♦ 
 
126 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS 
 
 such differing sentiments and practices, and which certainly 
 would be done, if truly Christian love, or even justice 
 itself, did take place as they ought ; i.e. it would be considered 
 what these several differing parties have to say for them- 
 selves, what reasons they may allege, and whether though 
 they be not sufficient to justify their several opinions and 
 practices (as all cannot be in the right), they be not such 
 as by which a conscientious man, a sincere fearer of God, 
 may be swayed, so as to take the way which he is found 
 in by the ducture of an upright (though misguided) con- 
 science, and not as being under the government of depraved 
 vicious inclination. As those that can, and do, yield the 
 conformity that is required of ministers, though perhaps 
 they wish some things altered, why may it not be supposed 
 they sincerely think (though it should be mistakingly) 
 that the things more liable to exception are capable of a 
 sense wherein they are not unlawful 1 and not being so, 
 they think themselves bound to take the opportunity which 
 they this way obtain of doing good to the souls of men ? 
 others also apprehending it lawful, how possible is it to 
 them from a certain reverence they have for antiquity, and 
 for our own first reformers, to think it best and fittest to 
 be continued ! Nor is it unsupposable that many of the 
 laity may upon the same grounds have the same appre- 
 hensions. 
 
 Again, divers in the ministry judging the terms unlaw- 
 ful upon which only they can have liberty for the public 
 exercise of it ; is it not possible they may, with a sincere 
 conscience, think themselves not therefore obliged wholly 
 to renounce their calling and office, to which they were 
 duly set apart, and had by their own solemn vow given up 
 themselves ; but to do so much of the work of it as they 
 can have opportunity for ? And whereas of the people, 
 some may think the public forms and ways of worship 
 not simply unlawful, but find them less edifying to them 
 than other means which the providence of God affords 
 them ; and therefore do more ordinarily attend those, 
 though sometimes also the other ; why should it be thought 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 127 
 
 on the one hand, or the other, that it is so little possible 
 they should l)e guided hy reasonable and conscientious 
 considerations herein, that nothing but corrupt inclination 
 must be understood to govern them 1 Is it not supposable, 
 that accounting the public worship substantially agreeable 
 to divine institution, though in some accidentals too dis- 
 agreeable, they may think there is more to incline them at 
 some times to attend it, than totally to disown it ? For 
 what worship is there on earth that is in all things incor- 
 rupt 1 And they may apprehend it fit to testify their 
 union with the sincere Christians, that may be statedly 
 under that form, and especially in a time when the contest 
 is so high in the world, between them that profess the 
 substance of reformed Christianity, and them that have so 
 much deformed it ; and may conceive it becoming them, 
 at some times, to express their own unconfinedness to a 
 party, and to use that liberty which, they think, should 
 not be judged by another man's conscience, which yet 
 they would have regard to, where there are not greater 
 reasons to preponderate. They are indeed under a disad- 
 vantage (with them that are apt to use a greater liberty in 
 their censures, than they do in their practice in these 
 matters) when it falls out that their partial compliance is 
 the means of their security from penalties ; and their dis 
 advantage is greater, whose judgment to this purpose hath 
 not been formerly declared and made known. But they 
 for shame ought to be silent whose total compliance gains 
 them not only immunity, but great emoluments. And 
 that perhaps yielded, not according to a former, but (at 
 that time when the oj)i)ortunity occurred) a new and altered 
 judgment. They may however know themselves to be moved 
 l)y greater ends than secular interest : and so may these we 
 now speak of, and yet may think the preservation of their 
 earthly portion, wherewith they are to glorify God in this 
 world, not too little an end to be designed and endeavoured 
 by lawful means. It were a very uncouth and sinful thing 
 to do a spiritual action for a carnal end, but if the thing 
 sincerely and supremely designed he the glory of God, that 
 
128 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 is tlie most spiritual end : if it be not, that ought to he 
 changed which is wrong, not that which is right ; the 
 unlawful end, not the lawful action, if it be lawful ; if it be 
 not, their good end will not justify their action, but it will 
 their sincerity : which is all that this discourse intends. 
 
 And then for such as decline the public worship totally, 
 as judging it simply unlawful ; is it not possible they may 
 be led to that practice by somewhat else than humour and 
 factious inclination 1 Have they not that to say, which may 
 at least seem solid and strong to a conscientious man ? 
 How jealous God did heretofore shew himself in all the 
 affairs of his worship ! How particular in the appointment 
 even of the smallest things he would have appertain to it 1 
 How unsuitable multiplied ceremonies are to the mature 
 state of the church ! and how sensibly burdensome they 
 w^ere to the disciples of the first age as a yok^ not to be 
 borne ; and that therefore God himself, when the season of 
 maturity, and the fulness of time came, thought fit to 
 abrogate those of his own former appointment, with no 
 (probable) design to allow men the liberty of substituting 
 others in their room. Why is it not to be thought that the 
 fear of the great God withholds them from doing what they 
 judge would offend him ? and that, if they err, it is for 
 fear of erring ? Why can nothing be thought on whereto 
 to impute their practice, but peevish humour ? Especially 
 if that be considered (which is common to these two last 
 mentioned sorts of men) that they sensibly find other 
 means more edifying to them, or expect them only to be 
 so, if the other be thought unlawful. If they be thought 
 merely lawful, and such as may therefore be used upon 
 weighty reasons at some times, but are found less edifying, 
 who can doubt but I ought to use for my soul (at least in 
 an ordinary course) the aptest means that I can ordinarily 
 have for the promoting its edification and salvation ? Do 
 we not reckon ourselves to owe so much even to our 
 bodies 1 And what is another man's opinion to signify 
 against my sense and constant experience ? Is there not 
 such a thing as a mental idiosyncrasy (or peculiarity of 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 129 
 
 temper) as well as a bodily ? and Avliereto what is most 
 agreeable, any man that is not destitute of ordinary under- 
 standing is the fittest judge himself: as every one, that is 
 not a mere fool, is so much a physician as to know what 
 diet suits him best. 
 
 And if it be said against the former of these two sorts, 
 Are they not at all times obliged to use the means which 
 are most edifying 1 They may say, At all times when 
 they have nothing to outweigh their own present edifica- 
 tion. But it is not impossible that a conscientious judg- 
 ment may esteem all the forementioned considerations con- 
 curring, to be of more weight than the greater advantage 
 hoped to be gained in that one hour. Nor need any man 
 be ashamed professedly to avow that which may seem the 
 least of them, the saving of himself from temporal ruin. 
 For he is to be accountable to God for what portion he 
 hath intrusted him with of the good things of this life, and 
 is not to throw it away without sufficient cause. Who sees 
 not that more is allowed and ordinarily done without 
 scruple or censure upon the like account ? as, to omit the 
 hearing of a sermon, if at that time one's house be on fire, 
 yea, or if it be to save my neighbour's, or the plucking of 
 an ox or sheep out of a ditch on the Lord's day, when I 
 might have been employed at that time in the solemn 
 worship of God to my spiritual advantage. A mere com- 
 mutation unto less advantage upon an equally or more 
 urgent necessity is less than omission. And they that 
 shall have learned, as our Saviour directs, " what that 
 means, I will have mercy and not sacrifice," will not con- 
 demn the guiltless. 
 
 Only sucli are concerned first to search well and be satis- 
 fied concerning the lawfulness of their action in itself, that 
 they do it not with a self-condemning conscience, nor with 
 a groundlessly self-justifying one. And then especially to 
 see to it that their end be right ; God's interest, not tlieir 
 own, otherwise tban in a due, entire subordination to his. 
 We can never act innocently or comfortably in any thing, 
 till he be in every thing more absolutely our all in all ; and 
 
 I 
 
130 CONCERNIKG UNION aIIONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 have much more reason to be scrupulous, and (if others 
 knew our hearts) were much more liable to censure, that, 
 in our common affairs, he is so much forgotten, that we 
 live not more entirely to him ; which we little animadvert 
 upon, and are very officious to cast motes out of our bro- 
 ther's eye, when this beam is in our own. 
 
 The design of mentioning these hints of reasons for so 
 different judgments and practices, is not to shew which 
 are strongest, and ought to prevail, which cannot be the 
 business of so short a discourse as this, and so much of 
 another nature ; but, to shew that while there is any thing 
 colourable to be alleged for this or that way, true Chris- 
 tian love, compassion of common human frailty, and a 
 duly humble sense of a man's own, would oblige him to 
 think that conscience towards God may have a greater 
 hand (though with some misguided itself) in guiding men 
 the different ways they take, than is commonly thought. 
 And to consider though such and such reasons seem not 
 weighty to me, they may to some others, who are as much 
 afraid of sinning against God as I, and perhaps their un- 
 derstandings as good in other matters as mine. It would 
 be considered how really difficult the controversy is about 
 the ceremonies, and some other parts of conformity. 
 Perhaps few metaphysical questions are disputed with more 
 subtilty than that controversy is managed with, by Arch- 
 bishop Whitgift, Bishop Morton, Doctor Burgesse, Doctor 
 Ames, Cartwright, Calderwood, and others. And how 
 very easily possible and pardonable is it to unlearned 
 persons, or of weaker intellectuals, being obliged in order 
 to their practice to give a judgment in reference to these 
 things one way or other, to judge amiss ! Why should we 
 expect every sincerely pious man to be able to hit the very 
 point of truth and right in matters that belong, as Bishop 
 Davenant once said in another case, non ad fidem funda- 
 mentalem, sed ad peritiam Theologicam, etfortesse, ne ad 
 hanc quidem, sed aliquando ad cxiriositatem Theologorum — 
 not to the foundation of our faith, but to the skill of divines, 
 and perhaps not to this neither, hut sometimes only to their 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 131 
 
 curiosity. What were to be done in reference to so nicely 
 disputable things made part of the terms of Christian com- 
 munion, is more the matter of our wish than hope, till by 
 a gracious influence God better men's minds, or by a more 
 deeply felt necessity bring ns to understand what is to be 
 done. Our case is ill when only vexatio dat intellectum, 
 when nothing but sorrow and suffering will make us wise ; 
 which is very likely from the righteous hand of God to be 
 our common lot. 
 
 In the mean time, 'tis hard to think that he cannot be a 
 sincerely pious man whose understanding is not capable 
 of so difficult things, as to make a certainly right judgment 
 about them. In absoluto et facili stat eternitas, and why 
 should not the communion of persons going into a blessed 
 eternity have the same measure 1 
 
 And besides the different size and capacity of men's 
 understandings, and consequently of their conscientious 
 determinations, 
 
 2. There are also as differing relishes of these things, 
 which Christian love would oblige a man to consider with 
 equanimity, so as thereupon to refrain hard censures. All 
 good men have not the same relish of the various forms 
 and modes of dispensing the truths and ordinances of Christ. 
 Some of our suffering brethren in Q. Mary's days are said 
 to have found great spiritual refreshing by the Common 
 Prayer. And, in our own days, some may profess to have 
 their hearts warmed, their affections raised and elevated, by 
 it. They are no rule to us ; but it would less become us, 
 hereupon, to suspect their sincerity, than our own. Others 
 again cannot relish such modes of worship, when in the 
 ministry of such as use them not, they find a very sensible 
 delight and savour. 
 
 And this, by the way, shews the great difference between 
 such things as have their evidence and goodness from God 
 himself, and those that borrow their recommendableness 
 only from human device. All good men, in all the times 
 and ages of the Christian church, have a constant value and 
 love for the great substantial of religion, which have in 
 
132 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 tliem that inward evidence and excellency, as command 
 and captivate a rectified mind and heart ; whereas the 
 mere external forms of it, the outward dress and garb, are 
 variously esteemed and despised, liked and disliked, by the 
 same sort of men, i. e. by very sincere lovers of God, not 
 only in divers times and ages, but even in the same time. 
 How different hath the esteem been of the liturgic forms 
 with them who bear the same mind, full of reverence and 
 love towards religion itself ; as that habit is thought decent 
 at one time, which in another is despicably ridiculous ; 
 whereas a person in himself comely and graceful, is always 
 accounted so, by all, and at all times. 
 
 Now this various gust and relish cannot but have in- 
 fluence, more remotely, upon the conscientious determina- 
 tion of our choice, concerning our usual way of worshipping 
 God. For how should I edify by what is disgustful to 
 me ? Though it be true that our spiritual edification lies 
 more in the informing of our judgments, and confirming 
 our resolutions, than in the gusts and relishes of affec- 
 tion, yet who sees not that these are of great use even 
 to the other ? and that it is necessary that at least there 
 be not a disgust or antipathy ? What is constantly less 
 grateful, will certainly be less nutritive. That is usually 
 necessary to nourishment ; though, alone, it be not suffi- 
 cient ; as it is in the matter of bodily repasts. Who can 
 without great prejudice be bound to eat always of a food 
 that he disrelishes, though he may without much inconve- 
 nience, for a valuable reason, do it at some time. 
 
 And they that think all this alleged difference is but 
 fancy, shew they understand little of human nature, and 
 less of religion ; though they may have that in themselves 
 too which they do not so distinctly reflect upon, even that 
 peculiar gust and relish, which they make so little account 
 of. For, have they not as great a disgust of the others' way 
 as they have of theirs ? Would they not as much regret to 
 be tied to theirs 1 Have they not as great a liking of their 
 own ? And doth not common experience shew that there 
 are as diflFerent mental relishes as bodily ? How comes 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 133 
 
 one man in the matters of literature to savour metaphysics ? 
 another mathematics, another history, and the like 1 and 
 no man's genius can he forced in these things. Why may 
 there not he the like difference in the matters of religion ? 
 And I would fain know what that religion is worth that is 
 without a gust and savour, that is insipid and unpleasant ? 
 much more that would, being used in a constant course, 
 this or that way, he nauseous and offensive ? 
 
 If indeed men nauseate that which is necessary for them, 
 the gospel, for instance, or religion itself, that is certainly 
 such a distemper, as if the grace of God overcome it not, 
 will be mortal to them ; and we are not to think of relieving 
 them, by withdrawing the offending object, which itself 
 must be the means of their cure. But is there any parity 
 between the substance of religion, which is of God's 
 appointing, and the superadded modes of it, that are of our 
 own ? 
 
 Upon the whole, nothing is more agreeable, either to 
 this divine principle of love, nothing (within our compass) 
 more conducible to our end, the ceasing of our differences, 
 (which are most likely to die and vanish by neglect), or 
 their ceasing to be inconvenient to us, than to bear calm 
 and placid minds towards one another under them, to 
 banish all hard thoughts because of them. If I can con- 
 tribute no way else to union, from this holy dictate and 
 law of the spirit of love, I can at least abstain from cen- 
 suring my fellow-Christians. It is the easiest thing in the 
 world one would think not to do ; especially not to do a 
 thing of itself ungrateful to a well tempered mind ; and a 
 great privilege not to be obliged to judge another man's 
 conscience and practice, when it is so easy to misjudge and 
 do wrong. Most of all, when the matter wherein I presume 
 to sit in judgment upon another is of so high a nature, as 
 the posture of his heart God-ward : a matter peculiarly 
 belonging to another tribunal, of divine cognizance, and 
 which we all confess to be only known to God himself. And 
 if I would take upon me to conclude a man insincere, and a 
 hypocrite, only because he is not of my mind in these smaller 
 
184 CONCERMIsG UNIOA" AMONG PROTESTAKTS. 
 
 things that are controverted among us, how would I form my 
 argument ? No one can, witli sincerity, differ from that man 
 whose understanding is so good and clear, as to apprehend 
 all things with absolute certainty, just as they are ; and then 
 go on to assume (and a strange assuming it must he). But 
 my understanding is so good and clear as, &c. 'Tis hard 
 to say whether the uncharitableness of the one assertion, or 
 the arrogance of the other, is greater ; and whether both 
 be more immoral, or absurd. But the impiety is worst of 
 all ; for how insolently doth such a man take upon him to 
 make a new gospel ! and other terms of salvation than 
 God hath made ! when his sentiments and determina- 
 tions of things which God hath never made necessary, 
 must be the measure and rule of life and death to men ! 
 How is the throne and judicial power of the Redeemer 
 usurped which he hath founded in his blood ! Rom. xiv. 4. 
 Who art thou that judgest another man's servant ? to 
 his own master he standeth or falleth. Yea, he shall be 
 holden up ; for God is able to make him stand ; ver. 9. 
 For to this end Christ both died, and rose, and revived, 
 that he might be Lord both of the dead and living ; ver. 10. 
 But why dost thou judge thy brother ? or why dost thou 
 set at nought thy brother ? we shall all stand before the 
 judgment-seat of Christ ; ver. 11. For it is written, as I 
 live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every 
 tongue shall confess to God. One would think they that 
 lay no restraint upon themselves in this matter of judging 
 their brethren, upon every light occasion, reckon this chap- 
 ter came by chance into the Bible. And that our Lord 
 spake himself, at random, words that had no meaning, 
 when he said. Matt. vii. 1, Judge not that you be not 
 judged, &c. What man that fears God would not dread 
 to be the framer of a new gospel, and of new terms of sal- 
 vation 1 It is a great solace indeed to a sincere mind, but 
 implies a severe rebuke, in the mean time, to such a self- 
 assuming censorious spirit, that it may, in such a case, 
 be so truly said, it is a much easier thing to please God 
 than man. 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 135 
 
 They that find this measure will have the better of it, if 
 they can abstain from retaliating, when as the reason of it 
 is the same on both sides. For they may say, You are to 
 remember I differ no more from you in this matter, than 
 you do from me ; and if I judge not you about it, what 
 greater reason have you to judge me ? And they have 
 little reason to value such a man's judgment concerning 
 their duty in a doubtful manner, who cannot see his own 
 in so plain a case. The matter for which they judge me 
 may be very doubtful, but nothing can be plainer than that 
 they ought not so to judge. 
 
 9. A due Christian love would oblige us, after compe- 
 tent endeavours of mutual satisfaction about the matters 
 wherein we differ, to forbear further urging of one another 
 concerning them. Which urging may be two ways : either 
 by application to our affections, or to our reason and judg- 
 ment. 
 
 Some perhaps find it more suitable to their own temper 
 and measure of understanding and conscience, to go the 
 former way ; and only vehemently persuade to do the 
 thing, wherein the other shall comply with them, and in 
 some sort justify the course which they have taken ; with- 
 out regard to the others' conscience, press them right or 
 wrong to fall in with them ; sometimes labouring to work 
 upon their kindness, by flattery, sometimes upon their fear, 
 by threats and menaces. Sincere love would certainly 
 abhor to do this. Would it let me violate another's con- 
 science any way ? The love I bear to a fellow-Christian, 
 if it be true, having for its measure that wherewith I love 
 myself, would no more let me do it than hurt the apple of 
 mine own eye. An inspirited waking conscience is as tender 
 a thing, and capable of a worse sort of hurt. If some have 
 more latitude than I, and think what they may do, in 
 present circumstances so far as they may, they must, would 
 it not be the dictate of love patiently to admit it, especially 
 when it comes to suffering ? For let me put my own soul 
 in iiis soul's stead ; and would I be willing to suffer upon 
 another man's conscience, and not upon my own ! and for- 
 
r^;. 
 
 136 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 feit the consolations which in a suffering condition belong 
 to them who for conscience towards God endure grief ? 
 would I, if I loved them, be content they had the grief, 
 and did want the consolation 1 There will be still found 
 in a state of suffering, somewhat that will prove a common 
 cause to good men wherein they will most entirely agree, 
 whatsoever smaller things they may differ in. As the pious 
 bishops Ridley and Hooper well agreed upon a martyrdom 
 at the stake, in the same important cause, who before had 
 differed (somewhat angrily) about some ceremonies. Con- 
 cerning which difference how pathetical is the letter * of 
 the former of tliese to the other, when both were prisoners 
 (the one at Oxford, the other at London) on the same ac- 
 count. But now, my dear brother (saith he), forasmuch 
 as we thoroughly agree and wholly consent together in those 
 things which are the grounds and substantial points of our 
 religion ; against the which the world so furiously rageth 
 in these our days, howsoever, in time past, by certain by- 
 matters and circumstances of religion, your wisdom, and 
 my simplicity (I grant) have a little jarred ; each of us 
 following the abundance of his own sense and judgment. 
 Now, I say, be you assured, that even with my whole 
 heart, God is my witness, in the bowels of Christ, I love 
 you in the truth, and for the truth's sake, which abideth 
 in us, and as I am persuaded shall, by the grace of God, 
 abide in us for evermore. 
 
 Again, if others have less latitude ; it would be far from 
 us to add to the affliction they are liable to, upon that very 
 account; by a vexatious urging and importuning them. 
 Especially to do it with insulting threats and menaces, and 
 labour to overawe their brethren, against their consciences, 
 into the embracing of their sentiments and way. Is it 
 possible a Christian should not understand how necessary 
 it is to every one's duty and peace that he exactly follow 
 that direction of the apostle's, and esteem it most sacred, 
 Rom. xiv, 5. Let every man be fully persuaded in his own 
 mind ? and that we firmly resolve never to do any thing 
 
 * Fox. Martyr. 
 
CONCEKNINU U.MUN AMONQ PROTESTANTS. 137 
 
 with regret or a misgiving heart, at least. Not against a 
 prevailing doubt, for in very doubtful cases to be rid of all 
 formido oppositi or susjiicion tliat the matter may be other- 
 wise, is perhaps impossible to me ; but to do any thing 
 against the preponderating inclination of my judgment and 
 conscience, were great wickedness, and such as, if it were 
 known, would make me unfit for any communion what- 
 soever. And I do here appeal to you who most severely 
 blame any of us for our dissent from you, whether if we 
 should thus declare to you, " That 'tis truly against our 
 consciences to communicate with you upon your terms, 
 we believe we should greatly offend God in it, and draw 
 upon us his displeasure, but yet to please you, and pre- 
 vent our temporal inconvenience, or ruin, we will do it." I 
 appeal to you, I say, whether we should not hereby make 
 ourselves incapable of any Christian communion with you 
 or any others '? This is then the plain state of the case, 
 and you do even put these words into our mouths : " If 
 we follow the dictate of our consciences, we must decline 
 you ; if we go against it, you must decline us ; supposing 
 we declare it, if we declare it not, we have nothing to 
 qualify us for your communion but hypocrisy and dissimu- 
 lation ! and what do you gain by such an accession to the 
 church 1 You have gained, in any such case, not half the 
 man, the outside, the carcass only, or the shadow of the 
 man, i. e. when you have debauched our consciences, when 
 you have spoiled us, and made us worth nothing, then we 
 are yours, wherein you shew nothing of love, either to us, 
 or to yourselves !" 
 
 Others again, that are themselves men of more reason 
 and conscience, take the somewhat more manly and Chris- 
 tian course, and bend themselves by argument to convince 
 the reason, and satisfy the consciences, of such as differ 
 from them. But herein also there may be an excess that 
 is unprofitable and grievous to those they would work 
 upon by this course, and from whicli therefore Christian 
 love, studying the peace and quiet of their brethren, would 
 restrain them. I say, from the ungrateful excess of such 
 
138 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PKOTESTANTS. 
 
 an endeavour ; for I would fain know, can there not herein 
 be an excess ? Is it not supposable that they who differ 
 from me. in such lesser things, may be sometime arrived 
 to a settlement and fixedness of judgment in them, as well 
 as I '? Is it not possible they have weighed the moments 
 of things as much as I have done ? Is such a cause infi- 
 nite ? Is it not possible that all may have been said in it 
 which is to be said, and the matter have been sifted to the 
 very bran 1 So that all my further arguings may serve but 
 to argue my vain self-confidence, or aboundingness in my 
 OAvn sense, as if all wisdom were to die with me. Or what 
 if they serve at length but to shew the incapacity of the 
 subject to be wrought upon, and the different complexion 
 of his mind I am treating with. All cannot receive all 
 things : we cannot make our sentiments enter with every- 
 one. Perhaps they shew the weakness of his understand- 
 ing : and then hath that direction of the apostle no authority 
 with us 1 Him that is weak in the faith receive, but not to 
 doubtful disputations, Rom. xiv. 1. He whom we account 
 our weaker brother, and of slower understanding, must be 
 received (not cast out of our communion), and because 
 God himself hath received him, as ver. 3 (q, d. Is he 
 thought fit for God's communion, notwithstanding his 
 unsatisfied scruple, and is he unfit for yours ]) and he is 
 not to be vexed and importuned with continual disputation, 
 if that apostolical precept be of any value with us. Some- 
 time at least, we should think we hai^e tried in such a 
 case as far as is fit, and driven the nail as far as it will go. 
 Is it not possible such a matter may be agitated beyond 
 the value of it, and that more time and pains may be spent 
 upon it than it is worth '? The obscurity and perplexity 
 of the controversy shew the less necessity. Things most 
 necessary are most plain. Must we always, in matters of 
 confessedly little moment, be inculcating the same thing, 
 rolling endlessly the returning stone, and obtruding our 
 offensive dogma ? Perliaps as no good is done, we do 
 much hin*t. When is the saw of disputation long drawn 
 about one thing without ill effects ? reason, having at length 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 139 
 
 spent its strength, grows (as weak people are) peevish and 
 froward ; degenerates into anger and clamour. In greater 
 differences than our present ones, between the protestant 
 churches abroad ; some, of more prudent and peaceable 
 minds, have earnestly pressed the laying aside of disputes, 
 and putting a period, by consent, to their theological wars, 
 Solitarum disputationwn lahyrinthos ne ingredi quidem 
 conentur,'^ said a great divine, in his days, in reference to 
 those controversies that he would have had composed by 
 an amicable brotherly conference. And that king of 
 Navarre, who, at that time, seemed highly concerned for 
 the peace and welfare of the reformed churches (afterwards 
 Henry the Fourth of France), in his negociations with 
 divers princes to that purpose, gave special instinictions to 
 his ambassador much to insist upon this, That, till other 
 remedies could be used, an end might he put to bitter conten- 
 tions and disputations, that Christian love and a brotherly 
 union might be restored.'^ And who sees not how much 
 this would conduce to peace and union in our case too ? 
 who sees it not, that is a hearty lover of peace ] and that 
 is not intent upon continuing and keeping a-foot a contro- 
 versy, not so much as a means to that, but as an end, 
 contending for contention's sake, and as a thing which he 
 loves and delights in for itself ? I am sure love to our 
 brethren would not let us continually molest and impor- 
 tune them to no purpose. And 'tis fit they that urge to 
 us, these are little things which they importune us about, 
 should know we have great things to mind, of eternal 
 concernment to us. And that we cannot be always at 
 leisure to mind little things, beyond the proportion of our 
 little time on earth, and the little value of the things 
 themselves. 
 
 10. Sincere love restored and exercised more among us, 
 would certainly make us forbear reviling and exposing one 
 
 * Davenant Sent. a<l Diiroum. 
 
 t Ut acerbis illis contentionibus, quibus, et verbis rix.iti sunt inter se 
 Theologi, etscriptis: ct ejusniodi disputatinnibus jNilentio tandem finis im- 
 ponatur, ut Cliristiana rharitas, et animnniin fratern;i conjunctio revocetur. 
 Mandat. Ikn. Reg. Navar. Jacobo Siguriae Legato suo, &c. Apud Gol- 
 d:istum. 
 
140 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 another, and the industrious seeking one another's ruin. 
 For such as can allow themselves to do any thing that 
 hath this tendency ; not to preserve public order, but to 
 gratify their private ill-will, not in a sudden heat and 
 passion, but deliberately, and so as to pursue a formed 
 design to this purpose ; if such men were capable of being 
 reasoned with (though it were to as good purpose to talk to 
 a storm, or reason with a whirlwind, or a flame of fire), 
 I would ask them, " What are you altogether unatoneable ? 
 will nothing divert you fi-om this pursuit ? If any thing, 
 what will ? What more gentle thing than our destruction 
 do you seek, or will content you 1 Is it our communion ? 
 And do you so recommend yourselves ? Do you not know 
 Cain is said to have been of that wicked one who slew his 
 brother ? 1 John iii. 10. And that whosoever hateth his 
 brother is a murderer ; and that no murderer hath eternal 
 life abiding in him ? Is it not said, John viii. 44, That 
 such are of their father the devil, and the lusts of their 
 father they will do, who was a murderer from the begin- 
 ning ? And in the forementioned 1 John iii. 10. In this 
 the children of God are manifest, and the children of the 
 devil ; whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, 
 neither he that loveth not his brother. If all were like you, 
 under what notion were we to unite with them ?" The 
 apostle tells us, 1 Cor. x. 20, 21, I would not that ye 
 should have fellowship with devils ; ye cannot drink the 
 cup of the Lord and the cup of devils ; ye cannot be 
 partaker of the Lord's table and of the table of devils. And 
 in good earnest incarnate devils (though that text do not 
 directly speak of such) have too much of devil in them, to be 
 participants in a communion, that can seem desirable, or is 
 likely to be grateful to serious Christians. I must avow it to 
 all the world, it is not this or that external form I so much 
 consider in the matter of Christian union and communion, 
 as what spirit reigns in them with whom I would associate 
 myself. How can I endure to approach those holy myste- 
 ries, wherein all are to drink into one spirit, and declare 
 their union with the God of love, with the Emmanuel, 
 
CONCERNIXG UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 141 
 
 God most nearly approaching us, God with us, collecting 
 and gathering us in unto hiin as our common centre, 
 whence the blessed spirit of holy love is to diffuse itself 
 through the whole body, all enlivened by that spirit, and 
 formed by it unto all kindness, benignity, goodness, and 
 sweetness ! With what significancy can I do so (though 
 I were never so well satisfied with the external fornis 
 and modes myself), if it be apparent (I say, if apparent) 
 I must cast in my lot and join myself with them (were 
 they generally such), whose souls are under the dominion 
 of the quite contrary spirit, that fills them with malignity, 
 with mischievous dispositions and purposes, towards many 
 a sincere lover of God, that cannot be satisfied with those 
 forms and modes, and who decline them only from a sense 
 of duty to God, and a fear of offending against the high 
 authority of their blessed, glorious Redeemer ! 
 
 I know many are apt to justify themselves in their 
 animosity and bitterness of spirit towards others, upon a 
 pretence that they bear the same disaffected mind towards 
 them. But besides that it is the most manifest and inde- 
 fensible injustice, if they charge the innocent, or such as 
 they are not sure are guilty, if their own wrath and enmity 
 be so potent in them as to enable their tainted vicious ima- 
 gination to create its object, or so to disguise and falsely 
 clothe it, as to render it such to themseh es, as whereupon 
 they may more plausibly pour out their fury. I say, besides 
 that, how contrary is this vindictive spirit to the rules and 
 spirit of the Christian religion ! Is this to love our enemies, 
 to bless them that curse us, and despitefuUy use us, &c. ? 
 How unlike the example of our blessed Lord when, even in 
 dying agonies, he breathed forth these words and his soul 
 almost at once, Father, forgive them, &c., or of the holy 
 martyr Stephen, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge ! 
 How unlike is that aptness to the retaliating of injuries, to 
 the Christian temper which the renowned Calvin discovers 
 in an epistle to Bullenger, speaking of Luther's severity 
 towards him. If Luther a thousand times (saith he) call 
 me devil, I will acknowledge him for a famous servant of 
 
142 CONCERNING [JNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 God ; which passage both Bishop Moreton and Bishop 
 Davenant magnify him for ; and the former saith, he herein 
 spake so cahnly, so placidly, so indulgently, as if it Avere 
 not a man, hut humanity itself, that uttered the words. 
 
 Yea, and such retaliation is what paganism itself hath 
 declaimed against, A noted philosopher* urges that against 
 it, that, one would think, should not need to be suggested 
 to Christians, somewhat so prudential as might not only 
 work upon the principle of love to others, but even that of 
 self-love, that then the evil must perpetually cu'culate, and 
 so must again and again return upon ourselves. As indeed 
 if that must be the measure, to revile them that revile us, 
 and render evil for evil, railing for railing (1 Pet. ii. 23 ; 
 chap. iii. 9), we should never have done. It were a course 
 which once begun, could, by that rule, never find an end. 
 
 This then is the first part of the answer to the proposed 
 question, What may be most hopefully done, &c. The 
 endeavour of having our hearts knit together in love would 
 surely do much towards it. And this is agreeable to any 
 the most private capacity. No man can pretend his sphere 
 is too narrow (if his soul be not) for the exercise of love 
 towards fellow-Christians. And I hope 'tis agreeable to 
 all our principles. Sure no man will say 'tis against his 
 conscience to love his brother. And the same must be 
 said of, 
 
 2. That other expedient, the endeavour to have our souls 
 possessed with a more clear, efficacious, practical faith of 
 the gospel, which was to make the other part of the answer 
 to our question. And though this is the more important 
 part, it is also so very evident, that we do not need to make 
 this discourse swell to a bulk too unproportionable to the 
 rest it is to be joined with by speaking largely to it. 
 
 Although we have not the name of faith in this text, we 
 have the thing. It is not named, but it is described, so as 
 that it may easily be understood, both what it is, and how 
 necessary to our purpose. 
 
 1. What it is, or what measure and degree of it, that 
 
 * Maxim. Tyr. Dissert. 2. 
 
CONCERNIXG UXION AMONG PROTESTANTS, 143 
 
 would Ijo of such great use in such a case. We are told 
 with great emphasis, The riches of the full assurance of 
 understanding, to the acknowledgment of the mystery of 
 God, and of tlie Father, and of Christ. Such as whereby, 
 
 1 . Our understandings are duly enlightened so as men- 
 tally to entertain aright the doctrine of the gospel, i. e. 
 1, Distinctly to apprehend the meaning and design of this 
 mysterious revelation of God in Christ. 2. And to be fully 
 assured of the truth of it. 
 
 2. Such again, as whereby our hearts are overcome, so 
 as practically and vitally to receive it, i. e. to acknowledge, 
 receive, resign, intrust, and subject ourselves unto God in 
 Christ revealed in it. 
 
 2. And of how vast importance this is towards our esta- 
 blishment, the confirming, fortifying, and uniting of our 
 hearts, and our joint preservation in our Christian state 
 (the main thing we are to design, and be solicitous for), we 
 may see in these particulars. 
 
 1. Hereby we should apprehend the things to be truly- 
 great wherein we are to unite. That union is not like to 
 be firm and lasting, the centre whereof is a trifle. It must 
 be somewhat that is of itself apt to attract and hold our 
 hearts strongly to it. To attempt with excessive earnest • 
 ness a union in external formalities that have not a value 
 and goodness in themselves, when the labour and difficulty 
 is so great, and the advantage so little, how hopeless and 
 insignificant would it be ! The mystery of God, even of 
 the Father, and of Christ, how potently and constantly 
 attractive would it be, if aright understood and acknow- 
 ledged ! Here we should understand is our life and our all. 
 
 2. Hereby we should, in comparison, apprehend all things 
 else to be little. And so our differences about little things 
 would languish and vanish. We should not only know, 
 but consider and feelingly apprehend, that we agree in far 
 greater things than we differ in : and thence be more 
 strongly inclined to hold together, by the things wherein 
 we agree, than to contend with one another about the 
 things wherein we differ. 
 
144 COKCERNING CNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 3. Hereby our religion would revive, and become a vital 
 powei-ful thing ; and consequently more grateful to God, 
 and awful to men. 
 
 1. More grateful to God, who is not pleased with the 
 stench of carcasses, or with the dead shows of religion 
 instead of the living substance. We should hereupon not 
 be deserted of the divine presence, which we cannot but 
 reckon will retire, when we entertain him but with insipid 
 formalities. What became of the Christian interest in the 
 world, when Christians had so sensibly diverted from mind- 
 ing the great things of religion to little minute circura- 
 stances, about which they affected to busy themselves, or 
 to the pursuit of worldly advantages and delights ? 
 
 2. More awful to men. They who are tempted to 
 despise the faint languid appearances of an impotent ineffi- 
 cacious, spiritless religion, discern a majesty in that which 
 is visibly living, powerful, and productive of suitable fruits. 
 Who that shall consider the state of the Christian church, 
 and the gradual declining of religion for that three hun- 
 dred years from Constantine's time to that of Phocas, 
 but shall see cause at once to lament the sin and folly of 
 men, and adore the righteous severity of God ] For as 
 Christians grew gradually to be loose, wanton, sensual, and 
 their leaders contentious, luxurious, covetous, proud, ambi- 
 tious aflPecters of domination, so was the Christian church 
 gradually forsaken of the divine presence. Inasmuch as 
 that at the same time when Boniface obtained from Phocas 
 the title of universal bishop, in defiance of the severe sen- 
 t<?nce of his predecessor Gregory the Great, sprang up the 
 dreadful delusion of Mahomet.* And so spread itself to 
 this day, through Asia, Africa, and too considerable a part 
 of Europe, that where Christians were twenty or thirty to 
 one, there was now scarce one Christian to twenty or thirty 
 Mahometans or grosser pagans. And what between the 
 Mahometan infatuation, and the Popish tyranny, good 
 Lord ? what is Christendom become ? when by the one, 
 
 * IJerewiWKi's ii.qiiiries. 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 145 
 
 the very name is lost, and by the other, little else left but 
 the name ? 
 
 4. Hereby we shall be enabled 'most resolvedly to suffer 
 being called to it, when it is for the great things of the 
 Gospel, the mystery of God, and of the Father, and ot 
 Christ, clearly and with assurance understood and acknow- 
 ledged. Such a faith will not be without its pleasant 
 relishes. 'Tis an uncomfortable thing to suffer either for 
 the mere spiritless, uncertain, inoperative notions and 
 opinions, or for the unenlivened outward forms of religion, 
 that we never felt to do us good, in which wc never tasted 
 sweetness, or felt power, that we were really nothing ever 
 the better for. But who will hesitate at suffering for so 
 great things as the substantial of the Gospel, which he 
 hath clearly understood, whereof he is fully assured, and 
 which he hath practically acknowledged and embraced, so 
 as to feel the energy and power of them, and relish their 
 delicious sweetness in his soul ? And though by such 
 suffering he himself perish fi-om off this eartli, his religion 
 lives, is spread the more in the present age, and propagated 
 to after-ages ; so seminal and fruitful a thing is the blood 
 of martyrs ! as hath always been observed. And as such 
 a faith of the mystery of the gospel appears to have this 
 tendency to the best, firmest, and most lasting union among 
 Christians, and the consequent preservation of the Chris- 
 tian interest, this mystery being more generally considered 
 only ; so this tendency of it would be more distinctly seen 
 if we should consider the more eminent and remarkable 
 parts of it ; the mystery of the Redeemer's person, the 
 Emmanuel, God uniting himself with the nature of man ; 
 his office, as reconciler of God and man to each other ; 
 his death, as a propitiatory sacrifice to slay all enmity ; his 
 victory and conquest over it, wherein is founded his 
 universal empire over all ; his triumphant entrance into 
 heaven, whitlicr he is to collect all that ever loved, trusted, 
 and obeyed liim, to dwell and be conversant together in his 
 eternal love and praises. How directly do all these tend to 
 
 K 
 
146 CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 endear and bind the hearts and souls of Christians to God 
 and him, and one another in everlasting bonds. 
 
 Thus then we have the answer to our question in the 
 two parts of the text. The former pointing out to us the 
 subjects of oui- union, with the uniting principle by which 
 they are to be combined with one another ; the other the 
 centre of it, with the uniting principle whereby they are 
 all to be united in that centre. 
 
 Use. And what now remains, but that we lament the 
 decay of these two principles, and, to our uttermost, endea- 
 vour the revival of them. 
 
 1. We have great cause to lament their decay ; for how 
 visible is it ! and how destructive to the common truly 
 Christian interest ! It w^as once the usual cognizance of 
 those of this holy profession, " See how these Christians 
 love one another, and even refuse not to die for each 
 other !" Now it may be, " How do they hate ! and are like 
 to die and perish by the hands of one another !" Our Lord 
 himself gave it them to be their distinguishing character, 
 " By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples if 
 you love one another." Good Lord ! what are they now 
 to be kno^^^l by ? 
 
 And what a cloudy, wavering, uncertain, lank, spiritless 
 thing is the faith of Christians in this age become ! How 
 little are the ascertaining grounds of it understood, or 
 endeavoured to be understood ? Most content themselves to 
 profess it only as the religion of their country, and which 
 was delivered to them by their forefathers. And so are 
 Christians but upon the same terms as other nations are 
 Mahometans, or more gross pagans, as a worthy writer some 
 time since took notice."* How few make it their business 
 to see things with their own eyes, to believe, and be sure 
 that J^us is the Christ, the Son of the living God ! How 
 far are we from the riches of the full assurance of under- 
 standing ! How little practical and governing is the faith 
 of the most ! How little doth it import of an acknowledg- 
 
 * Pink's Trial of a Christian's love to Christ. 
 
CONCERNING UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 147 
 
 ment of the mystery of God, viz, of the Father, and of 
 Christ ! How little effeciual is it ! which it can be but in 
 proportion to the grounds upon which it rests. When the 
 gospel is received, not as the word of man, but of God, it 
 works effectually in them that so believe it ; 1 Thess. 
 ii. 13. 
 
 2. Let us endeavour the revival of these principles. 
 This is that in reference whereto we need no human laws. 
 We need not edicts of princes to be our warrant for this 
 practice, loving one another, and cleaving with a more 
 grounded lively faith to God and his Christ. Here is no 
 place for scruple of conscience in this matter. And as to 
 this mutual love : what if others will not do their parts to 
 make it so 1 What, shall we only love them that love us, 
 and be fair to them that are fair to us, salute them that 
 salute us ? Do not even the publicans the same ? What 
 then do we more than others 1 as was the just expostulation 
 of our Saviour upon this supposition. Matt. v. 47. 
 
 And let us endeavour the more thorough deep radication 
 of our faith, that it may be more lively and fruitful : which 
 this apostle you see (not forgetting his scope and aim) 
 further presses in the following verses, testifying his joy for 
 what he understood there was of it among these Christians. 
 " Though I be absent in the flesh, yet I am with you in the 
 spirit, joying and beholding your order, and the steadfast- 
 ness of your faith in Christ," ver. 5. And exhorting them to 
 pursue the same course : " As ye have received Christ Jesus 
 the Lord, . so walk ye in him ; rooted and built up in him, 
 stablished in the faith, as ye have been taught, abounding 
 therein vsdth thanksgiving," ver. 6, 7. 
 
 And what also, must we suspend the exercise and 
 improvement of our faith in the great mysteries of the 
 gospel, till all others will agree upon the same thing ? Let 
 us do our ovm part, so as we may be able to say, " Per me 
 non stetit, It was not my fault, but Christians had been 
 combined, and entirely one with each other, but they hud 
 been more thoroughly Christian, and more entirely united 
 with God in Christ, that Christianity had been a more lively 
 
CONCEKNIXG UNION AMONG PROTESTANTS. 
 
 powerful, awful, amiable thing. If the Christian community 
 moulder, decay, be enfeebled, broken, dispirited, ruined in 
 great part, this ruin shall not rest under my hand." "We 
 shall have abundant consolation in our own souls, if we 
 can acquit ourselves, that as to these two things, we lamented 
 the decay and loss, and endeavoured the restitution of 
 them, and therein, as much as in us was, of the Christian 
 interest. 
 
I 
 
 CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTIOl^, 
 
 IN TWO SERMONS, 
 
 PREACHED AT THK MERCHANTS' I.ECTURK, IN BROAD BTRSKT. 
 
 • t 
 
THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 
 
 This title no body can think is meant to condemn all 
 contention about matters of religion as carnal ; but since 
 there is too much which is apparently so, it only signifies it 
 to be the design of the following discourse to shew what 
 contention that is, and when, or in what case, though it 
 hath religion for its object, it may not have it for its prin- 
 ciple, but that very frequently, the lust of the flesh hides 
 itself under that specious name. And to shew wherein, 
 while it aff^ects to hide, yet unawares it discovers itself, in 
 the management of affairs of that sacred kind. Thus it 
 often really is ; and then is that noble cause as ignobly 
 served, as when (according to that* father's observation) a 
 man proves to be unfaithful even for the faith, and sacrile- 
 gious for religion. 
 
 When in one place (Jude, 3) Christians are exhorted to 
 contend earnestly for the faith ; and in another (2 Tim. 
 ii. 24) we are told the servant of the Lord must not strive ; 
 'tis plain there is a contention for religion, which is a duty, 
 and there is a contention even concerning religion too, 
 which is a sin. And that sin the apostle in this context, 
 out of which our discourse arises, doth deservedly expose 
 by the name of flesh, and of the lust, or of the works there- 
 of ; such as wrath, variance, envy, hatred, &c. Whence 
 it is easy to collect in what sense it is said in the men- 
 tioned place, the servant of the Lord must not strive, viz. 
 as that striving excludes the gentleness, the aptness to 
 instruct, and the patience, which are in the same place 
 enjoined, where that striving is forbidden. And from thence 
 it is ec^ually easy to collect, too, in what sense we ought 
 
 * Cypr. de Simplicit. Prael. 
 
162 THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 
 
 to contend for the faith earnestly, i. e. with all that earnest- 
 ness which will consist with these, not with such as excludes 
 them : as earnestly as you will, but with a sedate mind, 
 full of charity, candour, kindness, and benignity towards 
 them we strive with. We ought, we see (in the mentioned 
 place), to be patient towards all men. Towards fellow- 
 Christians there should certainly be a more peculiar brotherly 
 kindness. 
 
 The difference is very great, and most discernible in the 
 effects, between the church's contention against enemies 
 w^ithout it, and contentions within itself. The former unite 
 it the more, increase its strength and vigour. The latter 
 divide and enfeeble it. As to those of this latter kind, 
 nothing is more evident, or deserves to be more considered, 
 than that as the Christian Church hath grown more carnal, 
 it hath grown more contentious, and as more contentious, 
 still more and more carnal. The savour hath been lost of 
 the great things of the gospel, which have less matter in 
 them of dispute or doubt but which only did afford proper 
 nutriment to the life of godliness ; and it hath diverted to 
 lesser things (or invented such as w^ere, otherwise, none at 
 all), about which the contentious, disputative genius might 
 employ, and wherewith it might entertain, feed, and satiate 
 itself. 
 
 Thereby hath it grown strong and vigorous, and acquired 
 the power to transform the church from a spiritual society, 
 enlivened, acted, and governed by the Spirit of Christ, into 
 a mere carnal thing, like the rest of the world. Carnality 
 hath become, and long been in it, a governing principle, 
 and hath torn it into God knows how many fragments and 
 parties ; each of which will now be the church, enclose 
 itself within its own peculiar limits, exclusive of all the 
 rest, claim and appropriate to itself the rights and privi- 
 leges which belong to the Christian Church in common, 
 yea, and even Christ himself, as if he were to be so enclosed 
 or confined : and hence it is said, Lo, here is Christ, or 
 there he is, till he is scarce to found any where ; but as, 
 through merciful indulgence, overlooking our sinful follies, 
 
THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 15j| 
 
 he is pleased to afford some tokens of his presence both here 
 and there. Yet also how manifest are the tokens of his 
 displeasure and retirement ! And how few will apprehend 
 and consider the true cause ! I will now adventure to offer 
 these things to serious consideration. 
 
 1. Wliether for any party of Christians to make unto 
 itself other limits of communion than Christ hath made, 
 and hedge up itself within those limits, excluding those 
 whom Christ would admit, and admitting those whom he 
 would exclude, be not in itself a real sin ? When I say 
 mahe to itself, this more peculiarly concerns those who 
 form their own communions, having nothing herein imposed 
 upon them by civil authority. Let others censure them- 
 selves as they see cause. They have a holy table among 
 them, the symbol of their communion with one another in 
 the Lord. I would ask, " Whose is this table 1 Is it the 
 table of this or that man, or party of men ? or is it the 
 Lord's table ?" Then certainly it ought to be free to his 
 guests, and appropriate to them. And who should dare to 
 invite others, or forbid these 1 
 
 2. If it be a sin, is it not a heinous one ? This will best 
 be understood by considering what his limits are. Nothing 
 seems plainer than that it was his mind, Christianity itself 
 should measure the communion of Christians, as such ; 
 visible Christianity their visible communion. It will here 
 then be enquired (as in all reason it should) what Christianity 
 is. And if it be, every one will understand the enquiry 
 concerning that, as they would concerning any thing else, 
 what is its essence ? or what are its essentials, or wherein 
 doth it consist ? Not what are all the several accidents it 
 may admit of ? as you w^ould do, if it were enquired. What 
 IS humanity ? Now here it will be readily acknowledged 
 that Christianity (as all things else that are of moral consi- 
 deration) must be estimated more principally by its end, 
 and that its final reference is not to this world, but to the 
 world to come, and to a happy state there. And that, con- 
 sidering the miserable state wherein it finds the souls of 
 men here, and the greater misery they are hereafter liable 
 
154 THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 
 
 to, it must design tlieir present recovery, and finally, their 
 eternal salvation. 
 
 That in order hereto it must propound to men some things 
 necessary to be believed, some things necessary to be done. 
 And that both must intend the making of them good in- 
 order to the making them happy, or the saving of them 
 fi'om eternal misery. That both are sufficiently propounded 
 by the kind and great Author of this constitution, Christ 
 himself, in his word or Gospel. That this Gospel, besides 
 many incidental things, expressly represents some things as 
 of absolute necessity to salvation, by which are settled the 
 very terms of life and death unto sinners ; and as a prin- 
 cipal, most comprehensive, and most fundamental thing to 
 all the rest, requires men's resigning and subjecting them- 
 selves unto him ; or putting themselves by solemn covenant 
 into his hands, or under his conduct, to be by him brought 
 to God, and made finally happy in him. 
 
 Whatsoever therefore is of absolute necessity tc this end 
 is essential to Christianity. Christians then are a sort of 
 men tending to God and blessedness under the conduct of 
 Christ, to whom they have by covenant devoted themselves, 
 and to God in him. Visible Christians are such as are in 
 this visible tendency, with their children, yet in minority, 
 and not capable of making an understanding profession 
 themselves. Such as have arrived to that capacity are no 
 longer to be considered in their parents, but apart by them- 
 selves. They that have been sufficiently instructed in the 
 principles of the Christian religion, that have devoted them- 
 selves to God in Christ, and live in their general course 
 conformably to his holy rules, are visibly personal cove- 
 nanters. 'Tis plainly the mind of Christ, that those be 
 received into that plenary communion which belongs to the 
 Christian state ; and particularly, unto that sacred rite 
 which is the communion of his body and blood, and wherein 
 the new testament or covenant hath its solemn obligation, 
 and wherein as foederati, or 2^^^'sons in covenant, they have 
 more express communion with him, and one another. 
 
 They that are yet unacquainted with the most necessary 
 
THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 155 
 
 things of Christian religion, are to be held as catechumens 
 under instruction, if they be willing. They that live licen- 
 tiously in the state of penitents, till they give that proof of 
 their serious repentance, as that their profession thereof 
 appear not to be slight and ludicrous ; they that refuse to 
 learn, or be reformed, that live in open hostility against the 
 known laws of Christ ; are not visible Christians, are not 
 visibly in the way of salvation. Visible subjection and visible 
 rebellion are inconsistencies. If therefore any society of men, 
 professedly Christians, do make other limits of their commu- 
 nion ; admitting those that Christ's rule excludes, excluding 
 them whom it would admit ; especially, if the alteration be 
 not only by the making those things necessary which he hath 
 not revealed or enjoined as necessary, but which he hath 
 not revealed or enjoined at all ; and so is not only to add to 
 Christian religion taken at large, but even to its essentials ; 
 this is substantially to change the evangelical covenant, to 
 make it another thing, to break Christ's constitution, and set 
 up another. If they be little things only that we add, we 
 must know that there is nihil minimum in religion. What, 
 if as little as they are, many think them sinful, and are there- 
 by thrown off from our communion ? The less they are, the 
 greater the sin to make them necessary, to hang so great 
 things upon them, break the church's peace and unity by 
 them, and of them to make a new gospel, new terms of life 
 and death, a new way to heaven. And is, as much as in us 
 lies, to make things of highest necessity depend not only 
 upon things of no necessity, but that are, in our religion, 
 perfect nullities, not having any place there at all. And 
 thereupon is, in effect, to say. If you will not take Chris- 
 tianity with these additions of ours, you shall not be Chris- 
 tians, you shall have no Christian ordinance*; no Christian 
 worship ; we will, as far as in us is, exclude you heaven 
 itself, and all means of salvation. And upon the same 
 ground upon which they may be excluded one communion 
 by such arbitrary devised measures, they may be excluded 
 another also, and be received no where. And if their 
 measm-es differ, they all exclude one another ; and hence, 
 
156 THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 
 
 SO many churches, so many Christendoms. If this be 
 sinful, it is a sin of the deepest die. Whereas the Holy 
 Scriptures speak with such severity as we know they do, of 
 the altering of man's landmarks, what may we think of 
 altering God's ? And the sin is still the greater, if the 
 things of highest necessity are overlooked in the meantime 
 as trifles, tithing of mint is stood upon, but judgment, faith, 
 mercy, and the love of God passed over (as Matt, xxiii. 23, 
 Luke xi. 42), infidels poured in upon the church ! wolves 
 and bears under the name of sheep, and the lambs of Christ 
 (which he requires to be fed) throwTi out into the wilder- 
 ness ! 
 
 3. But if we suppose it a sin, and so heinous a one, how 
 far doth the guilt of it spread ! How few" among the several 
 sorts and parties of Christians are innocent, if the measures 
 of their several communions were brought under just and 
 severe examination ! How few that lay their communions 
 open to visible Christians as such, excluding none of what- 
 soever denomination, nor receiving any that by Christian 
 rational estimate cannot be judged such ! 
 
 4. How few that consider this as the provoking cause of 
 Christ's being so much a stranger to the Christian church ! 
 And how little is it to be hoped we shall ever see good days 
 till this wasting evil be redressed ! or that our glorious 
 Redeemer, who is head of all things to the church, should 
 ever own it by visible favours, should protect, cherish, 
 enlarge it, or make it spread in the w^orld (and how little it 
 is naturally in any probability of doing so !) or that he 
 should treat it as his, while it is so little itself, and so little 
 one ! In the present (most deplorable) state of things, 
 private (that is, carnal) interest is the thing every where 
 designed, by one party, and another. And by wishing the 
 prosperity of the church, or endeavouring it, is only meant 
 seeking the prosperity of our own party. So that there can 
 be no united prayers nor joint endeavours for any truly 
 common good ; but what seems desirable to some, is dreaded 
 and deprecated by all the rest. Thus for thirteen or fourteen 
 hundred years hath the church been gradually growing a 
 
THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 167 
 
 multiform, mangled, shattered, and most deformed thing ; 
 broken and parcelled into nobody knows how many several 
 sorts of communions. The measures whereof how strangely 
 alien have they been from those which were genuine and 
 primitive, i. e. from substantial Christianity, and the things 
 that must concur to make up that. Instead of sound know- 
 ledge of the few, clear, and great things of religion, a great 
 many doubtful opinions ; the taking one side in a disputed 
 point ; the determination of a logical question, understand- 
 ing, or saying one understands (whether we do or no), a 
 metaphysical nicety ; and sometimes professing to believe 
 somewhat that Scripture never said, or shews itself never to 
 have meant, and that is most manifestly contrary to all 
 reason and common sense. Instead of reverent, decent, 
 grave worship ; affected, scenical, ludicrous formalities, 
 uncouth gesticulations, disgusted countenances, with I know 
 not what empty shows of a forced and feigned devotion ; 
 which things also were to serve instead of orderly, unre- 
 provable conversation, of serving Grod, and of doing good to 
 other men ; and to expiate the crimes of a very bad one, to 
 make amends, and atone for the lewdest, the most licentious, 
 and most mischievous practices. 
 
 In sum ; not only are things most alien from real Cbris •• 
 tianity added to it, but substituted in the room of it, and 
 preferred before it ; yea, and things most destructive of it, 
 indulged and magnified in opposition to it. This is too 
 generally the state of the carnalized Christian church And 
 never were there more fervent contentions among all sorts, 
 whose notions, opinionSj modes, and forms are to be pre- 
 ferred. 
 
 The word of God tells us that to be carnally minded is 
 death. These contests seem therefore to express great soli- 
 citude how most neatly to adorn a carcass, or at best how 
 with greatest art and curiosity to trim and apparel gorge- 
 ously a languishing man, in the feared approaches of death, 
 instead of endeavouring to save his life. But if any en- 
 deavour to that purpose were yet to be used, what should 
 it be ? That any man should go about to propose to the 
 
158 THE PREFACE TO THE EEADERS, 
 
 Christian church, were both presumptuous and hopeless. 
 We can only speak our wishes to men, and offer them in 
 solemn supplications to God. And it were a happy omen, 
 if good men could once agree what, in particular, to pray 
 for ; it being out of question that such men would not be 
 guilty of so much hypocrisy, as, to their uttermost, not 
 seriously to endeavour, what they durst adventure and 
 thought it necessary to make the subject of their prayers. 
 And one would think it should not be difficult to men of 
 sincere minds, upon serious consideration of the present 
 sad state of things, not only in general to pray for the true 
 spiritual welfare of the church of Christ in the world ; but 
 so far to be particular, as to pray in order thereto, that it 
 may be nu)re entirely one ; Eph. iv. 4. We are told, There 
 is one body, and one Spirit. That the Spirit is but one, 
 we are sure is true in fact : and so we are that the body 
 animatedly that Spirit, as it is such, can be but one also. 
 But the apostle's business in that place, is not merely to 
 assert such a union, as there already was, but also to per- 
 suade to such a one as there yet was not ; ^. e. that it might 
 be more entire and complete than hitherto it was ; and that 
 such a unity might be preserved in the bond of peace ; and 
 this in order to its growth to the measure of the stature of 
 a perfect man in Christ ; implying plainly enough, that 
 the less it was one the less it would grow. Which also is 
 sufficiently evident in itself. For it is first plain in the 
 nature of the thing, that by how much it is more divided 
 and multifonn, it will appear the less considerable in the 
 world, and so be less apt to attract and draw in others. 
 Yea, and its appearance and aspect will not only be less 
 inviting and attractive ; but it will be offensive, and create 
 prejudices in the minds of men against Christianity itself. 
 Which appears the plain meaning of that petition of our 
 blessed Lord, when he was leaving the world (John, xvii. 21), 
 That they all might be one, as thou. Father, art in me, and 
 I in thee, that they also might be one in us, that the world 
 may believe that thou hast sent me. Implying manifestly, 
 that if they did not appear one, it would strongly tempt the 
 
THE rilEFACE TO THE HEADERS. 1.59 
 
 world to infidelity. Whereupon all good men have a 
 migiity inducement to unite in this request ; for more 
 entire visible oneness in the Christian church, not only from 
 the example of our Lord leading them in this request, but 
 from the reason also by which he enforces it, that other- 
 wise the rest of the world must be confii-med and obdured 
 in their infidelity. Who sees not therefore that the Christian 
 interest is naturally obstructed in its extensive growth by 
 the visible disunion of the Christian community 1 for it can 
 scarce admit to be called a society in its present torn and 
 shattered state. 
 
 And again, its divisions being (as they cannot be other 
 than) criminal, the effect of indulged carnality, and designed 
 to serve the canial interest of this or that party, in opposi- 
 tion to the rest ; they hereby not only offend and give 
 scandal to the world, who thereupon discern nothing of 
 peculiar excellency in the Christian profession, Avhen under 
 it they see men driving but such low designs, as they them- 
 selves (more honestly) do without any such veil ; but they 
 offend the Spirit of Christ too, who, thereupon, in great degrees, 
 withdraws itself ; not totally, which could not consist with 
 the promise (Matt, xxviii. 20), I am with you always, unto 
 the end of the world ; but unto such degrees as shall testify 
 displeasure. And hence is the growth of the church obstructed, 
 not only naturally, but penally too. Whence it is most evi- 
 dent, that they cannot with judgment pray for the spiritual 
 welfare of the church of Christ, who pray not for its union ; 
 nor with sincerity, who to their uttermost endeavour it not 
 also. Nor can there be true seriousness, insomuch, but the 
 consideration must ensue, what course is most likely to 
 serve so desirable an end. And since necessary things are 
 most plain, and less liable to dispute and doubt ; and it is 
 matter of fact, obvious to every observing eye, that the 
 disceptations and divisions in the Christian church, which are, 
 and have l.»een, from age to age, do fur tlie most part arise 
 from the addition of unnecessary things to it, which belong 
 not to its constitution; and which while some thinlc lawful 
 only, and at best but an ornament to it, others think sinful 
 
,*^ 
 
 160 "^ THE PREFACE TO THE KEADERS. 
 
 and a deformity ; it cannot hence but appear a thing much 
 to he desired, and endeavoured, that these occasions of 
 offence and division might cease, and be removed. Which 
 even they that think such additions to be, for the matter of 
 them, lawful, might yet see reason enough to desire and to 
 endeavour should be taken away ; yea, though they appre- 
 hend them of some use ; it being so manifest that the hurt 
 which accrues by them is imspeakably more. And besides, 
 one would think it should not be unapprehensible to any 
 man that allows himself the free use of his thoughts, that 
 though he should continue of the judgment, that such 
 additions were in the matter of them lawful, yet the making 
 them additional terms of Christian commimion must be 
 highly sinful, as being the introduction of a new Christi- 
 anity. Christian communion being of Christians as such. 
 
 But this amputation is, according to the present posture 
 of men's minds all the Christian world over, a thing equally 
 to be desired and despaired of : as a general union therefore 
 is, in the mean time. We cannot unite with them who 
 insist upon terms of union that we judge unlawful in those 
 things. For those that insist upon terms that we think not 
 simply unlaw^ful, w^hile yet they are different, in several 
 Christian societies ; we cannot, therein, unite with any ; but 
 we must, for ought we know, divide fi-om as many. That 
 only which the present state of things admits of, is, that we 
 keep ourselves united in mind and spirit with all serious 
 Christians, in the plain and necessary things wherein they 
 all agree : that w^e preserve in our own spirits a resolved 
 unaddictedness to any party, in the things wherein they 
 differ : that for actual and local communion (which we 
 cannot have with all the Christians in the world, and can 
 have comparatively but with a few), w^e join with them 
 that come nearest us, i. e. that we judge come nearest to 
 our common rule : that (as some means hereto) we espe- 
 cially labour to centre in some such scheme of doctrinals, 
 as for which all these profess to have a common reverence ; 
 that while our union cannot as yet be so extensive as it 
 ought, it may be as extensive as we can ; that the gospel 
 
THE PREFACE TO TUE READERS. 161 
 
 be not hindered, and that our ministry may be the more 
 successful and profitable to the promoting of the common 
 salvation, among those that attend upon it. Such schemes 
 or collections of doctrines, reduced into an order (as gold 
 formed into a vessel, whereas truth, as it lies in the Holy 
 Scriptures, is as gold in the mass), may be of use (as they 
 have always been used in the cnurch in all ages) more dis- 
 tinctly to inform others concerning our sentiments (though 
 the use is less, that after thorough search and inquiry they 
 can be of to oneself), provided they be avowed to be looked 
 upon but as a inensura 7nensurata, reserving unto the Scrip- 
 tures the honour of being the only inensura tnensurans ; 
 and so that we only own them as agreeable to the Scrip- 
 tures. And again, that we declare we take them to be 
 agreeable thereto in the main, or for substance, without 
 attributing a sacredness to the very words of a mere human 
 composition ; which indeed we cannot attribute to the words 
 used in the translation of the Bible itself. And that for the 
 things we believe them with a degree of assent proportion- 
 able to their greater or less evidence. This, through the 
 blessing of God, such as have used a sincere and ingenuous 
 freedom one with another, have found an effectual expe- 
 dient to deliver their minds from mutual dcubt, concerning 
 each other, that because of some different modes of express- 
 ing their sentiments, they held very different opinions, 
 which they have found to be a mistake on one hand and 
 the other ; and have given and received satisfaction, they 
 intended nothing that ought to be reckoned into the account 
 of Socinian, Pelagian, Popish, Arminian or Antinomian 
 errors. That fraudulent and unjust way of making the 
 estimate, being justly exploded, that whosoever shall in 
 some things that touch not the main points of difference, 
 say as some other of these do, must therefore be of their 
 minds throughout. Which rule of judging would make any 
 Christian be taken for a Jew, a Mahometan, or a Pagan ; 
 there being no intelligent Christian, but must say many 
 things that they do. 
 
 But it is to be hoped thia engine of the devil's is by the 
 
162 THE PEEP ACE TO THE READERS. 
 
 mercy of God broken, so as that the people shall be no 
 more frighted from attending to the ministry of such (be 
 their denomination what it will) as use apt and proper 
 methods to awaken, convince, and save souls, by being told 
 they are Antinomians or Arminians, &c. It being upon 
 inquiry found, that persons so and so charged, by the rash 
 folly of some that understand nothing of the difference, 
 besides the different sound of those odious names, do really 
 detest the doctrines imputed to them. And that further- 
 more, while we look upon an agreement therein as a suffi- 
 cient character of one sound in the faith, we do not profess 
 to reckon every one of the things therein contained (with- 
 out distinguishing their importance) necessary to that pur- 
 pose. And do never intend our communion shall be limited, 
 by other bounds than only an agreement in those things 
 for doctrinals, which we take to be of such importance and 
 necessity, as without the belief whereof a man cannot be a 
 sincere Christian. Which certainly cannot but be a very few 
 less disputed things, among them that profess to believe the 
 divine authority of the Scriptures, and that will allow them 
 to be interpreted according to the ordinary ways of inter- 
 preting other writings. That for matters of practice in the 
 worship of God, we be satisfied, not to be obliged to do 
 things, which we think unlawful ourselves, without enter- 
 taining the least surmise, but that many good men may 
 judge some things lawful that we do not, and may practise 
 accordingly. That we always keep oui"selves in a prepared 
 temper of spirit to receive further information about doubt- 
 ful things. That we cherish in our souls a universal sin- 
 cere love to Christians as such ; and to men as men. That 
 we studiously endeavour in our several stations the doing 
 the most general good we can. And that our whole design 
 do terminate upon what, so far as we can succeed in it, 
 must be acknowledged by all good men to be a real service 
 to the church of Christ, by gathering into it as many as 
 w^e can, considering it as made up of persons that with 
 judgment, and in practice, own the very substance of Chris- 
 dan religion. With such dispositions of mind as these, we 
 
THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 1G3 
 
 shall, in this divided state of the Christian church, be inno- 
 cent of the sinful evil of its divisions, and keep, as much as 
 in us is, the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. And 
 do we yet entertain in our minds any hope that the Chris- 
 tian religion shall spread, and be more generally propagated 
 through the world 1 Or do we desire it should ? Or do 
 we dread that it should not, through our default ? Let us 
 then look back to the years of ancient time, and consider 
 what it was when it grew and increased mightily ; when 
 Avithout other advantages than its own self-recommending 
 excellency, it every where made its own way, subdued 
 nations, proselyted enemies, defied the most fervent opposi- 
 tions and persecutions ; when the professors and preachers 
 of it triumphed over martyrdoms, the fierceness and fury 
 of wild beasts and flames, overcame by the blood of Jesus, 
 and the word of his testimony, not loving their lives unto 
 the death. When as Pliny writing to Trajan in favour 
 of the Christians,* intimates to him, they were every where 
 so increased both in cities and countries, that the Pagan 
 temples had lain almost quite desolate, and that there had 
 scarce been any to buy off their sacrifices. When (about 
 a hundred years after) Tertullian representing in apology 
 for them, their peaceableness, and how easy it were, other- 
 wise, to them to relieve themselves of their sufferings, says 
 they were become so numerous in the empire,t that if it 
 were possible to them to withdraw themselves into some 
 remote, obscure place, they who were left would even tremble 
 at their own solitude. Christianity was then all life and 
 spirit. The Christian Church in those days flourished in 
 purity, power, and vigour. But when for the space of about 
 three hundred years together it had enjoyed the protection 
 and benignity of Christian emperors ; and was hereby be- 
 come wanton, lost in carnality, not content with itself, and 
 its own native comeliness, but affected to shine in a bor- 
 rowed lustre and ornature, when (as harlots are wont) it 
 began to paint, to be fond of gay attire, and devise things for 
 
 * Plin. Epist. t Apol. contra GenL 
 
164 THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 
 
 deckings to itself most alien from its original state and con- 
 stitution ; (and which afterwards became the matter of 
 bloody contentions and cruelties ;) when it grew ambitious 
 of secular pomp, splendour, grandeur, and power, then was 
 it so far forsaken of God, and his Spirit, that within a very 
 few years after Boniface the Third had obtained of the 
 emperor Phocas the title of universal bishop, whereby 
 popish tyranny and superstition became more fully regnant 
 in the church (i. e. within less than twenty years), began 
 the senseless delusion of Mahometanism to spring up with- 
 out the church ; and assisted by the incredible accession of 
 force and arms, came at length to prevail against it (now 
 gradually sinking more and more into vice and ignorance) 
 unto that degree, that in process of time, what Chiistianity 
 had gained from paganism, it lost, in a great measure, unto 
 Mahometanism ; * so that in several parts of Christendom, 
 where were reckoned thirty Christians for one pagan, there 
 came to be thirty Mahometans for one Christian. And how 
 next to unchristian the Christian world is, in the nearer 
 countries (very generally protestant as well as popish) is 
 too well known ; and in the remoter, divers ^vriters inform 
 us.t 
 
 Let it now therefore be considered for how many sad 
 centuries of years Christianity hath been at an amazing 
 stand ! got no ground upon the whole, but rather lost much. 
 Is this the religion which so early, by its o^vn native light 
 and power, conquered so many nations, and which we 
 expect to be the religion of the world ? Who that under- 
 stands this, would not with deepest concern, and anxiety 
 of spirit, inquire into the cause ? And what cause can be 
 so obvious to our inquiry, as a luxurious and a conten- 
 tious carnality ; which both go together, and which have 
 enfeebled, dispirited, and lost its self-difFusing life and 
 strength ? What we cannot remedy, let us at least see, 
 and lament ! 
 
 And let us supplicate more earnestly for the effusions of 
 
 * See in Brerewood's Inquiries. 
 
 •f Ludolphus's ^thiop. Hist, and divers others. 
 
THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 165 
 
 that Holy Spirit, which alone can give remedy to our 
 distempers, and overcome the lusts of the flesh, of what- 
 soever kind, and restore Christian religion to itself, and 
 make the Christian name great in the world. For can it 
 content us that Christianity should appear, and be counted 
 a mean, a weak, and even a ludicrous thing ? that the Son 
 of God should have descended, and come down into our 
 world ! have put on man ! have died upon a cross ! have 
 ascended that he might fill all things ! diffuse spirit, light, 
 and life through the world ! have appointed prophets, 
 apostles, pastors, and teachers for the publishing his ever- 
 lasting gospel ; and at length leave men, even where the 
 Christian name and profession doth obtain, no better men 
 generally than he found them 1 distinguished only from the 
 rest of the world, by certain peculiar notions, and by some 
 different rites of worship ; otherwise as flagitious, as 
 sensual, as impious towards God, as full of wrath, hatred, 
 malice, and mischievous design towards one another, as any 
 pagans or infidels ever were ! and yet that they should 
 expect to be saved, only because they are called Christian ! 
 What a representation of Christian religion is this ! 
 
 And thus it will be reckoned of, till it come to be under- 
 stood more generally, and more openly avowed, that Chris- 
 tianity is not only a system of doctrines (and those reducible, 
 within a little compass), but of precepts also, not concerning 
 the modes of worship only, but men's ordinary practice ; 
 and that not only respect their external actions, but which 
 are designed to regulate and reform their minds and spirits, 
 and do lay their first obligation there, must subdue their 
 inordinate appetites and passions, render them holy and 
 harmless (Phil. ii. 15, 16), the sons of God, shining as lights, 
 holding forth the word of life, &c. The whole frame of the 
 Christian institution being animated by the Divine Spirit, 
 into whose name we are baptized (as well as into that of 
 the Father and the Son), and which will be given where 
 he is sought for, and not affi-onted. 
 
 Let this be taken for Christianity, and avowed to be so. 
 and seriously endeavoured to be propagated as such, and i» 
 
166 THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 
 
 will not always be put to vie (but as upon equal terms) 
 with Maliometanism, Judaism, paganism, mere deism, or 
 whatsoever else shall exalt itself into a competition with it. 
 And let whatsoever comes not within this compass, or is not 
 truly and primitively Christian, be resected and cut off from 
 it, and so it will appear an entire self-agreeable thing ; and 
 the Christian church be but one. While it is not so, it will 
 be the business and design of the most, only to promote the 
 interest of this or that party. And if their sense were put 
 into plain words, this it would be, " I am for my church, 
 or the church whereof I am, whatever becomes of the church 
 of Christ." And so will a zealous endeavour for so narrow 
 an interest, as that of a divided party, engage and engross 
 all the attention of their minds, and their religion be 
 summed up in contention, and such only as hath its root 
 in that division which (on the one side at least, and in great 
 part too probably on both sides) chiefly proceeds from mere 
 carnality. And what is it but religious contention, for the 
 most part, that hath filled the Christian world with blood 
 and ruins for many by-past ages 1 Carnal contention, 
 under this most specious pretence, as being conversant about 
 spiritual or religious concernments^ is the thing animad- 
 verted on (though in gentler instances, as later occasions 
 did require) in the following sermons. It was little ima- 
 gined when they were delivered from the pulpit, they should 
 ever have been made more public. I have in this publica- 
 tion of them partly yielded to the opinion of divers, who 
 judged they might possibly be useful to more than those 
 who heard them, and to them further upon review. But 
 have more complied with a sort of necessity laid upon me, 
 by being told if they Avere not published by me, the thing 
 would be done (as it could) from broken mistaken notes, 
 without me. My own memorials and preparations were 
 indeed imperfect enough, as it cannot but be in the case of 
 one, so often in the week, engaged in such work. I have, 
 as I could, by my own recollection, and by such help as I 
 have otherwise had, endeavoured a full account of what 
 was spoken, and am very confident nothing material is 
 
THE PREFACE TO THE READERS. 167 
 
 omitted. (Some iiigeminations or varied expressions of the 
 same thing, that are pardonable, if not useful to a hearer, 
 hut not so grateful and less needful to a reader, I reckon 
 not such.) But divers passages (though not distinct heads) 
 that were intended, but through want of time omitted, I 
 have inserted in the places to which they did belong. 
 Wherein none can think there is any wrong done. T am 
 sensible the introductive part should have been in sonie 
 respects otherwise methodized. But I am content to let it 
 go as it is, though I find by the notes that were brought 
 me, that some things were somewhat transposed (otherwise 
 than was intended) in the delivery, from a memory not the 
 most faithfuL 
 
 If it do any good, it must be from the supply of the good 
 Spirit of God, which I admonish all you that read seriously 
 to seek, and ask fi-om him, who hath promised, thereupon, 
 it shall be given. The very expectation whereof will pre- 
 vent reading with a vain mind, or ill design, and the conse- 
 quent danger of receiving hurt by what you read. 
 Yours in our common Lord, 
 
 J.H. 
 
OARiyALlTY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 " This I say then, walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust 
 of the flesh"— Gal. v. 16. 
 
 The last time I spake to you from these words, having 
 largely opened before the import of walking in the Spirit , 
 I undertook to shew you how the flesh here is to be 
 understood, against the lusts whereof such walking in the 
 Spirit is the prescribed remedy. In the general you have 
 been told, that flesh is here to be taken morally, and in 
 that latitude, as to sig-nify all sorts of moral evil, or the 
 general depravedness of our corrupt nature ; for though 
 sometimes, in the moral acceptation, the sense is limited 
 (as hath formerly been showed) to grosser sins, in contra- 
 distinction to more refined, as 2 Cor. vii. 1, and 1 John 
 ii. 16, yet sometimes also it is so far extended, as to signify 
 all sins, as Col. ii. 11, compared with Rom. vi. 6. And in 
 this context it is plain the apostle comprehends sins of both 
 these sorts under this one expression. 
 
 But what particular evils he more especially intended 
 here to censure and caution these Galatian Christians 
 against, under this one name, cannot better be understood 
 than by consulting this context itself ; in which, though 
 we cannot say we have a full enumeration, we have yet 
 very many instances, of the carnalities against which this 
 remedy is directed. Some of them more gross (as we have 
 told you they might be distinguished), adultery, fornication, 
 uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft^ murder, 
 drunkenness, revel lings ; and some other that may seem 
 
170 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 more refined, not as having less, but only a more subtle, 
 malignity in them ; such as hatred, variance, emulation, 
 wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, &c. It may 
 here be thought strange that such sins as these should be 
 animadverted upon in Christian churches (as this epistle 
 is inscribed to such, the churches of Galatia, chap, i, 2), 
 so soon after the gospel was come among them, the apostle 
 himself thought it strange, for you find him wondering at 
 it, chap. i. 6. I marvel that you are so soon removed from 
 him that called you into the grace of Christ to another 
 gospel. Yea, and after that, with the gospel, they had 
 received the Spirit too. For 'tis said, chap. iii. 2, 3. This 
 only would I learn of you, Received ye the Spirit by the 
 works of the law, or by the hearing of faith ? And are you 
 so foolish, having begun in the Spirit, do you think to be 
 made perfect by the flesh 1 
 
 We are, therefore, to consider what sort of persons and 
 doctrines they were that had corrupted and depraved those 
 churches ; and whereby it will be the more apprehensible 
 by what kind of insinuations they so far prevailed : and 
 we may collect, in very great part, what they were, from . 
 divers passages of this epistle itself; and, indeed, from 
 this very context. Some would have us think the persons 
 were of that sect called Gnostics, from their pretended and 
 highly boasted knowledge. We have no evidence that 
 this sect was so early known by this name ; but it is very 
 likely they were that sort of men that were afterwards so 
 called. The characters here given them in this and the 
 other apostolical epistles, do much agree with what divers 
 of the more ancient Christian wi-iters, and one pagan one 
 (Plotinus), say of that sect. Which pagan, an inter- 
 preter, and great admirer of his,* would fain have pass for a 
 Christian, because living in a time when the controversy 
 between Christianity and paganism was at the height, he 
 says nothing against Christianity itself, but speaks very 
 much against these pseudo-Christians, whom, though that 
 author mentions not by that name, this his interpreter often 
 
 * Marsil. Ficinus. 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 171 
 
 doth it for him, inserting "The Gnostics" even when he is 
 but translating into the body of the work itself. 
 
 But this less concerns us. It is, however, out of ques- 
 tion, that this sort of men, very anciently called Gnostics, 
 did highly vaimt their great knowledge. A very tempting 
 specious pretence ! Though their sublimer notions (about 
 the ^ons, &c.) were imaginations only : fancy and not 
 knowledge, or yvooffig ■^Budoovv/Moc, knoivledge misnamed, or 
 falsely so called (as we may borrow the apostle's expression, 
 1 Tim. vi. 20, though those inventions were later), and 
 could only serve to fill the minds of their proselytes with 
 wind and vanity. 
 
 But their doctrines upon which the apostle animadverts 
 in this epistle, we may collect from the manifest scope and 
 design of it ; and that was to assert justification by faith 
 without the works of the law, which they greatly perverted ; 
 and sanctification hy the Spirit of Christ, or the doctrine of 
 the neio creature, which they even quite subverted. With 
 which false doctrines they conjoined a most impui-ely 
 vicious life and practice ; falling in much with the Jews in 
 their corrupt doctrines, and with the pagans in their licen- 
 tious practice. Which must be equally tempting to carnal 
 minds. 
 
 And this may make it appear less strange, that all these 
 sorts of carnality that are here mentioned in this context, 
 from verse 15 to 21, should, in reference to the same 
 sort of men, be so put together. For it is evident they 
 were partly a judaizing and partly a paganizing sort of 
 Christians ; as (for ends of their own) they affected to call 
 themselves. They held it lawful for Christians to join 
 with pagans in their solemnities of worship, which they 
 were wont to celebrate in the temples of their idols. It is 
 notorious how gross impurities and immoralities were in 
 those days incorporated into the paganish worship ; such 
 as made it sufficiently reasonable that idolatry should 
 have in conjunction with it fornication and adultery, 
 uncleanness and lasciviousness. And for the addition of 
 witchcraft, it was not unaccountable, there being also sor • 
 
172 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 ceries, magical rites, and diabolical incantations observed to 
 have been intermingled witb the sacra of the pagans. And 
 for which these (misnamed) Christians might have the 
 greater kindness also, for the sake of Simon Magus, the 
 father of their sect, by whom the affectation thereof was 
 transmitted to some of his noted followers, that thought it 
 a glorious thing to vie with their predecessor in this sort of 
 excellency. 
 
 Nor is it alien from this purpose to take notice, that 
 those diabolical rites are said to have obtained among the 
 paganish idolaters, of drinking the warm blood of their 
 sacrifices, and of eating things strangled with the blood in 
 them, upon the imagination that in their so doing, they 
 did partake of the very spirit of their gods whom they 
 worshipped ; and 'tis not altogether unsupposable that the 
 devil might, in some unusual manner, enter into them at 
 those times, more violently agitating their blood and other 
 humours ; in the higher ferments whereof, if by the direc- 
 ter influence of the great enemy of mankind, quarrels and 
 murders (as was not unlikely) should also sometimes 
 ensue, it could not but heighten the sport and triumphs of 
 hell. 
 
 And that the decree of the apostles and elders. Acts xv., 
 might have such a reference, prohibiting these things con- 
 junctly, idolatry and fornication, and things strangled, and 
 blood, that they should by no means mingle with the 
 pagans in these horrid rites, a learned modern writer of our 
 own hath rendered very probable.* And hereto those vehe- 
 ment dehortations of the apostle must answerably be under- 
 stood to refer, 1 Cor. x. 11, remonstrating to them, that they 
 could not have fellowship with the Lord's table, and the 
 table of devils. And I would not, says he, that you should 
 have fellowship with devils. For though he did not judge 
 it unlawful to eat of the idolyiha^ i. e. things offered to 
 idols, being sold in the shambles, he yet most earnestly 
 protests against their presuming to mingle and partake in 
 
 * Dr Spencer de Ritibu" Hebrseorum. 
 
THE CARNALITY OP RELIQIOUS CONTEXTION. 173 
 
 the horrid dia1)olical rites and impure practices that were 
 wont to be used at their festivals in the idol's temples. 
 
 All thoughts of being by their Christianity obliged and 
 enabled unto strict purity and holiness of heart and life, 
 were out of doors with these seducers, and endeavoured to 
 be extinguished in such as they could work to a compliance 
 with them ; whereof the apostle seemed deeply apprehen- 
 sive, when he so earnestly inculcates, that in Christ Jesus 
 (or in the Christian state) neither circumcision nor uncir- 
 curacision were of any avail, but a new creature, and faith 
 working by love. 
 
 But it must seem of all things the most unaccountable 
 and incongruous, that men of so profligate sentiments and 
 practices sliould be for introducing a justification by the 
 works of the law, in opposition to that by the faith of 
 Christ. 'Tis manifest they hated the holy design of 
 Christian religion which they professed ; and professed it, 
 that they might have better opportunity to undermine it. 
 Hereupon (not opening at once all the arcana of their way) 
 they carry answerably to persons and occasions as they 
 occurred ; and as the apostle was all things to all, that he 
 might save some ; so were they, that they might pervert 
 and destroy. To the Christian Jews one thing, to the 
 Christian Gentiles another. In this their doctrine they did 
 most plausibly judaize ; in their impure practices they 
 verged more to paganism. Pretending to Christian con- 
 verts from among them, that Christ never intended to tie 
 them to strict severities, or hold them under an uneasy 
 bondage ; whereto the apostle seems to refer, chap. v. 13, 
 Ye have been called (he grants) to liberty, but use not 
 (saith he) your liberty for an occasion to the flesh. 
 
 Thus we must suppose that they differently applied 
 themselves to such as they designed to make their proselytes, 
 endeavouring to accommodate themselves in the one of 
 these to one sort of men, and to another sort in the other. 
 In dealing with the Jewish Christians they not only denied 
 the doctrine of justification by faith (opposing thereto that 
 
174 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 of justification by the works of the law), but calumniated 
 it too, as if it intended to infer a liberty to sin, and make 
 Christianity subservient to wickedness, whereof they knew 
 their o\vn to be more guilty. A piece of monstrous impu- 
 dence (but usual with men of such foreheads) to endeavour 
 the averting that charge from themselves, to which they were 
 most manifestly liable, by first charging it on the innocent. 
 Hereto the apostle hath manifest reference, when having 
 first asserted against them justification by faith only, Gal. 
 ii. 16. Knowing that a man is not justified by the works 
 of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have 
 believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified. by the 
 faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law ; for by 
 the works of the law shall no flesh be justified. He then 
 vindicates the assertion against their imputation, that it 
 made Christ a patron to men's sins : If (saith he) while we 
 seek to be justified by Christ, we ourselves also are found 
 sinners, is Christ therefore the minister of sin ? God 
 forbid. For if I build again the things that I destroyed, 
 I make myself a transgressor. For I through the law am 
 dead to the law, that I might live unto God, I am crucified 
 with Christ, and am in and with him dead unto all sin, so 
 as not to be under the dominion of any ; and death never 
 more had dominion over him, when he had once died. And 
 whereas they thus objecting against the doctrine of justifi- 
 cation by faith in Christ, that it ministered unto sin, or 
 made Christ a minister thereunto, were liable to have the 
 objection retorted upon them, being a sort of men them- 
 selves so very infamously wicked ; for this they had a 
 double salvo, both of which the apostle doth industriously 
 refute. That is, from the two parts of the law given by 
 Moses, and the two sorts of the works of the law enjoined 
 thereby, that is, the moral and ritual or ceremonial part. In 
 reference to the former, they fall in with those Jewish con- 
 ceits of the merit of their good works, done from the prin- 
 ciple of free will ; and that in order to their justification, 
 this merit was to be measured by the preponderation of 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELiaiOTJS CONTENTION. 175 
 
 their good -works to their bad,* and that it was possible 
 that one good work in some eases might turn tlie scale ; 
 that is, if they were equal before. Now this the apostle 
 recurs to, by showing that they that were under the law 
 were under a curse ; for that if they continued not in all 
 things written in the law to do them, all they did was 
 nothing, as you may see, chap. iii. of this epistle, ver. 10. 
 
 And then as to the ritual or ceremonial part, because 
 their sacrifices were in great part expiatory of sin, and divers 
 of their other performances carried a great show of sanctity 
 and piety in them ; which their expiatory sacrifices could 
 only be, as they were representative of the one propitiation, 
 and their other observances were nothing to their sanctity, 
 if the thing they were designed to signify, did not accom- 
 pany the sign ; they imagined they were not to signify its 
 presence, but to supply its absence. This notion did obtain 
 even with the stricter sort of them, the Pharisees them- 
 selves, who thereupon made very light of the weightier 
 matters of the law, reckoning that though they were guilty 
 of many immoralities in practice, their exact observance 
 of the rites and ceremonies enjoined by Moses, would go 
 far to make an amends ; and that their paying tithe of 
 mint, annis, and cummin, would serve instead of judgment, 
 faith, mercy, and the love of God, which they are said to 
 pass over as very light and small matters. See Matt, xxiii. 
 23, compared with Luke xi, 42. And herein the apostle 
 contests with these Galatian Christians, not only with 
 vehemency, but with some kind of wonder, that when 
 gospel light had come among them, and that having known 
 God, or rather been kno^^^l of him, as chap, iv, {>, they 
 should attribute any thing to so beggarly rudiments as 
 these were ; that is, being circumcised, and keeping days, 
 and months, and years, &c. the things whereon they laid 
 so great stress. And because they did so, he tells them 
 in that 4th chapter, that he was afraid that he had bestowed 
 labour in vain among them. 
 
 In sum therefore, he makes it his business to evidence 
 
 * See at large to this purpose Smith's Select Discourses upon this subject. 
 
176 THE CARNALITY OF EELIGIOtIS CONTENTION. 
 
 to them, that both their justification and their sanctification 
 must be conjoined and arise together out of one and the 
 same root, Christ himself, and by faith in him (without the 
 works of the law) as that which must vitally unite them 
 with him, and that thereby they should become actually 
 interested in all his fulness ; that fulness of righteousness 
 which was to be found only in him, and no where but in 
 him ; and withal, in that fulness of spirit and life, and 
 holy influence, which also was only in him ; so as that the 
 soul being united by this faith with Christ, must presently 
 die to sin and live to God, chap. ii. 19, 20. And at the 
 same time when he delivered a man from the law as dead 
 to it, he became to him a continual living spring of all the 
 duty which God did by his holy rule require and call for, 
 and render the whole life of such a man a life of devoted- 
 ness to God. 
 
 And 'tis here by the way worth the while to observe how 
 the apostle himself expounds that phrase of being doad to 
 the law by being delivered fi-om it, Rom. vii. 1-6. And 
 no man can be said to be delivered from any thing, as it is 
 a good or an advantage to him, but as it is an evil, and 
 doth him hurt. And the law hurts no man as a rule of 
 life. But as to one stated under the full power of it, 'tis a 
 bar against that great blessing of the Spu-it (chap. iii. 13, 
 14.), which by its yet abiding curse it keeps off from him, 
 hereby occasioning his continuance in sin, and then con- 
 demning him for it. Whereupon how clear is the current 
 of the discourse in these words, viz. B}'' the law I am 
 dead to the law, that I might live to God ; I am crucified 
 with Christ, yet I live, q. d. The law itself hath slain me, 
 and killed all my hopes and expectations from it : the 
 same law that slew Christ, hath slain me. I am crucified 
 with him ; which supposes his being in him by that faith 
 by which he was to live ever after. In this faith stood his 
 marriage to Christ, who succeeds into the room of the law, 
 as the case is stated, Rom. vii. 1-3, &c. They that were 
 settled, in reference to each other, in the conjugal state, as 
 the law and the sinner were ; upon the death of the one 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. ] 77 
 
 (whichsoever it he) the relation ceases, and so the obliga- 
 tion which depended upon that relation. And thereupon, 
 says he, the law itself having given me my death's wound, 
 and killed me as to it, in the article of dying, I join 
 myself to Christ, and yield to be crucified with him, but 
 therein acquire with him a new life. Nevertheless I live. 
 And how ? Not I, but Christ liveth in me ; and the life 
 that I live in the flesh, is by faith in the Son of God, who 
 hath loved me, and given himself for me. And this life I 
 now thus live is a life of pmre and absolute devotedness to 
 God ; terminated upon his interest and glory, as the end of 
 it, governed by his declared will, as the rule of it ; i. e. in 
 sum, 'tis a holy life, or (as before) 'tis a living to God. 
 Whereupon he so copiously distinguishes, chap, iii., between 
 Jews and Jews, those that were born after the flesh, and 
 those bom of the Spirit, the sons of the bond-woman, and 
 of the free (as he allegorically speaks), signifying the latter 
 only bom into this new state of life. By all which he 
 shews the connexion to be most necessary and inviolable, 
 between being justified by faith in Christ, and a life of 
 holiness ; so little opposite were these to one another, that 
 one and the same faith was to infer both. 
 
 But now, that the large extent of this holiness of life 
 might more fully appear, the apostle signifies, that it must 
 not only exclude those grosser lusts and works of the flesh, 
 but also such, as because they might seem somewhat more 
 refined, might be reckoned by some less criminal, he there- 
 fore inserts divers of this other kind also ; and the state of 
 the case did equally require it. For it appears (as it might 
 well be supposed) that so far as any were tainted with the 
 false notions, and with inclinations to the impure practices 
 before mentioned, they were filled with animosities, with 
 wrath, envyings, and hatred towards them that had not 
 received the taint ; and they might have too much place 
 with these back again towards them. Whereupon there 
 could not but be very great and high ferments in these 
 churches. Nothing therefore could be more requisite, or 
 seasonable, than ihat several instances of this sort of car- 
 le 
 
178 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 nality should be put into this catalogue, viz. hatred, vari- 
 ance, emulations, ^^Tath, strife, &c. For they were not to 
 be thought (as was said) more refined, as having less ; but 
 a more subtle energy, or penetrative power of malignity in 
 them. Nor indeed hath Christianity and the Christian 
 church suffered more by any sorts of evils, than by those 
 of this sort. Others destroy particular persons ; these, 
 besides their doing so, do more directly hurt the commu- 
 nity, and tend to waste and destroy the church. 
 
 Now as to those grosser carnalities mentioned in this 
 context, I did formerly say somewhat briefly, and so I did 
 as to that which seems the central one among those of this 
 latter sort, viz. that of heresy : which I considered accord- 
 ing to what it doth import in itself, and did design also to 
 consider it in this its concomitancy, viz. of the things here 
 mentioned in so near conjunction, and that are of nearer 
 affinity with it, hatred, envyings, and the like. I have 
 indeed been since in some suspense whether I should pur- 
 sue that intention or no ; but upon serious consideration, 
 and solemn looking up to heaven for direction, I have deter- 
 mined not to let this sort of carnality pass without just 
 animadversion. For I consider that I speak to a Christian 
 assembly, who must be understood all to profess equal and 
 impartial reverence to the word of God, as to a revelation 
 come down from heaven, for our direction and conduct 
 thither. And therefore none dare, upon serious thoughts, 
 allow in themselves any kind of regret or disgust as to so 
 material and important a part of this holy word. We are 
 assured the words of God will do good to them that walk 
 uprightly, that is, to upright-hearted ones ; who it must 
 therefore be supposed will walk or deal uprightly in their 
 attendance thereunto. And I cannot but hope that God 
 w^ill graciously help us to speak and hear with that upright- 
 ness and integrity of heart, that this word of his may do 
 good to some, without doing hurt to any. 
 
 In speaking therefore to this sort of carnality (for we 
 must mention it oy such a term as the Holy Ghost liath 
 thought fit to put upon it), I shall JiM note to you some 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 179 
 
 previous things more generally, and then shall, secondly^ 
 let you see what appearances there may be of it in 
 such a case as the apostle's present discourse hath reference 
 unto. 
 
 Firsts It will be of use to us, more generally, to note these 
 few things : 
 
 1. That the several expressions of it which we find in 
 this context, in closer connexion with heresy, as it were 
 guarding it before and behind, viz. hatred, variance, emu- 
 lation, wrath, strife, seditions, envyings, do all note but 
 one radical evil, and do all agree in one root. Whereupon 
 it will be the less needful to insist upon them severally, or 
 to give you the criticism of each word by itself, which it 
 were a great deal easier to do, than it will be useful, or 
 of any avail to us. What I shall say therefore will be 
 more general ; but will however give you the occasion of 
 casting your eye upon the particulars, whereby you will 
 have the more distinct account of that carnality, which is 
 here referred to by the apostle. 
 
 2. This is needful to be noted too, that this precept of 
 the apostle, considered as a prescription against fulfilling 
 the lusts of the flesh, has more immediate and direct 
 reference to this sort of carnality. This is plain, if you will 
 but again peruse the words as they lie in their closest 
 connexion. For when he had said in the 14th verse, " Tha^ 
 all the law is fulfilled in this one word, even in this, ' Thou 
 shalt love thy neighbour as thyself ' " (most of all, no doubt, 
 one's Christian neighbour), he adds, " But if you bite and 
 devour one another, take heed ye be not devoured one of 
 another." Then immediately come in the words of the 
 text, " This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and you shall 
 not fulfil the lust of the flesh :" q. d. The lust of the flesh 
 will be working this way, putting you upon biting and 
 devouring one another. According as sentiments begin to 
 differ, and minds are divided, inclinations will carry one this 
 way, and another that ; and then you will be too prone to be 
 at biting, and be ready to fall to devouring one another. 
 Now I have no better remedy to prescribe to you against 
 
180 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 both than this, " Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfil 
 the lust of the flesh." I should have been a very unfaithful 
 interpreter of this context to you, if I had not taken notice 
 of this so immediate connexion. 
 
 3. This is further to be noted, that this sort of carnality 
 that lies in strifes, in emulations, in envyings, in hatred, 
 Sec, may come to have its occasion of being exercised, of 
 working, lusting, and exerting itself about the doctrines of 
 the gospel ; than which nothing is more evident, in that 
 you find that these things are put in connexion with 
 heresier., which must be understood to be a corruption of 
 gospel doctrine. Very true indeed it is, that that word 
 heresy, among the more ancient philosophers, was used in 
 a more gentle, and no way infamous sense, signifying only 
 this or that sect of philosophers. But the word coming to 
 be bon'owed and transferred by sacred writers into the 
 Holy Scriptures, there it is mostly taken in a very ill sense 
 (though not always), as signifying error or corruption in 
 doctrine, of a very high and destructive nature, as Tit. iii. 
 10, 11 ; 2 Pet. ii. 1. For though all heresy be error, or 
 carry error in it ; yet all error is not heres}'- : that must 
 be such error as strikes at the root, and is conjunct with 
 heart-disaffection and malignity (as was noted the last 
 time), standing in opposition to faith, which is not a merely 
 mental thing, but lies very principally in the heart. Doc- 
 trinal matters are however here referred unto, even in the 
 very notion of heresy, and therefore about those matters 
 these carnalities may have place. For when the several 
 passions here mentioned are raised, and do tumultuate in 
 the breasts of this and that particular person, they soon 
 and easily spread and propagate themselves to others, so 
 as to infect the community. And then it comes to the 
 forming of it into parties, or dividing it into two sides, as 
 the word hiy^jdraGiai (which we translate seditio7is) signifies ; 
 the one stated and posited as in a hostile posture against 
 the other, till at length the matter arrive to that height and 
 pitch of contumacious and fixed obstinacy, as in matters 
 so important as the apostle's discourse reflects upon, will 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 181 
 
 complete the notion of heresies, viz. on one side, at least ; 
 not, perhaps, without great faultiness on the other, which 
 comes next to be noted. 
 
 4. As such carnality may have place and exercise about 
 gospel doctrine, so it is very possible it may shew itself 
 on both sides, even on their part who have the truth with 
 them, as well as on theirs who oppose it, and make it their 
 business to propagate the contrary error or false doctrine. 
 The very defence of truth itself may be accompanied with 
 such carnalities, such strife, wrath, malice, envy, as divides 
 the guilt between the divided parties, and leaves neither 
 side innocent. 
 
 I am, you know, by mere providence, in the series and 
 tract of a discourse long continued upon this context, led 
 to say what I now do ; and I have therefore the more hope, 
 that through the blessing of God, it may be of some use to 
 us. But this comes most directly under our notice ; and 
 let it be noted, that whereas in such contests both sides are 
 wont to be confident they are in the right ; neither the one 
 nor the other may be over-confident or careless of not being 
 in the wrong, in what may be of equal or greater impor- 
 tance than the matters themselves, disputed among them that 
 agree in the substantial of religion, or that hold the head, 
 can be. Let us, I say, deeply consider it, that such sinful 
 carnality may have place, and exercise not only about 
 religious concernments, but even on that side where the 
 truth lies ; which is from hence evident, that the apostle 
 immediately before the text, as I have noted, says. If you 
 bite and devour one another, take heed that ye be not bitten 
 and consumed one of another. A great aptitude he there- 
 fore observed there was, to be biting on both sides, even 
 where the truth lay, and where it lay not. 
 
 For we are here further to observe, that whereas our 
 apostle sadly considered that many among these Christians 
 of Galatia were lapsed, and fallen fi-om the purity and sin- 
 cerity of religion ; he apprehended too, that they who were 
 not so fallen, took not the best course for the recovery of 
 them that were. Which that admonition of his must 
 
182 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 mean, chap. vi. 1, 2, brethren, if a man be overtaken with 
 a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such a one in the 
 spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou also be 
 tempted. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the 
 law of Christ." It seems he reckoned that the sounder part 
 among them, and that ought (and 'tis like thought them- 
 selves) to be more spiritual, while they shewed not more 
 of a spirit of meekness towards the lapsed, were not so 
 spiritual as they should be, and discovered more carnality 
 than became them, more wrath and bitterness of spirit 
 than could comport with the law of Christ. They will be 
 little awed by this, and be apt for all this to indulge their 
 own furious passions, that think he hath no law. But 
 though one were never so sure he hath the truth on his 
 side, 'tis in itself a dreadful thing, to whosoever shall allow 
 himself the liberty seriously to think of it. For what must 
 we conceive of such truth, that is to be defended in some 
 cases, I say, that in some cases ought to be so 1 We must 
 surely conceive of it as a divine, a sacred thing, a heaven- 
 bom thing, a thing of heavenly descent, part of a revelation 
 immediately come forth from the very bosom of God ; so is 
 the whole gospel revelation to be looked upon. Now here 
 is carnality that lusts ; such a kind of carnality as the con- 
 text speaks of, wrath, strife, hatred, &c. Here is such 
 carnality, lusting, actually lusting, seeking prey, ravening 
 for food. And what doth it feed upon 1 No meaner thing 
 than divine truth ! evangelical doctrines ! Monstrous 
 thought ! Consider, I beseech you, my friends, what this 
 comes to ? The feeding an impure lust upon sacred things, 
 or upon that which is divine ! I must have my lust satis- 
 fied, says the proud, contentious spirit : wrath burns, anger 
 boils , sacred things are not spared, but fallen upon, as the 
 prepared food of lust. It will be fed, they are not forborn. 
 All reverence of God is forgotten, heaven is ravaged, the 
 most sacred mysteries of God's ovm. kingdom are violated, 
 and torn this way and that (0 horrid thing !) by harpies, 
 vultures, by most fierce and furious lusts. And if a man 
 would know, recognise, take knowledge of the most deeply 
 
THE CARNALITY OP RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 183 
 
 inward sensations and intention of his own heart, thus it 
 is, I must now apply my thoughts, bend my mind, to con- 
 sider a revelation come from heaven : and what, for the 
 end for which it was given, to enlighten, purify, quicken 
 my soul towards God, renew and form it for God, to serve 
 and enjoy him 1 no, but on purpose to feed, to gratify a. 
 lust ! We can (too often) make neither better nor worse of 
 it, but just so it is. 
 
 These things being premised, I would now go on a little 
 more particularly to shew you, wherein carnality may 
 appear exerting itself, even about such things ; or what 
 will be manifest indications of such a carnality, as is here 
 referred unto, acting about, or in reference to, the things of 
 God, the most sacred and important truths and doctrines of 
 his gospel. 
 
 1. First, When in comparison of some less things, 
 wherein we find occasion or pretence to differ, little account 
 is made of the incomparably greater things, wherein all 
 serious Christians are agreed, and wherein they really can- 
 not but be agreed. Let it be considered, whether pains be 
 not taken to devise some matter or other to contend about 
 (that shews a great disposition) ; and then having found 
 out some minuter things about which to differ, our differ- 
 ences, as little as they are, quite swallow up our agreements. 
 The whole gospel signifies nothing (though full of the most 
 glorious wonders), in comparison of some punctilios, either 
 that we have invented, or that it may be doubted whether 
 there be any thing in them or nothing. Here is some 
 mystery in all this ! A lust is to be gratified ; an appetite 
 to contend. This winds and wriggles this way and that, 
 loth to appear but under some specious disguise of zeal for 
 truth, indignation against false doctrine, or the like ; but 
 it be\vrays itself, and unawares, shews its ugly serpentine 
 head. For if the thing chosen out to be the matter of con- 
 test be thought worth so much, when it is manifestly either, 
 in comparison, little, or nothing but a figment, why are not 
 the things on all hands most confessedly great and most 
 evident, more highly esteemed, loved, relished, and with 
 
184 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 gust and delight fed upon ? "Why do not the greater things 
 signify more to unite us in love and communion with all 
 that agree with us in them, than the lesser things to divide 
 us, about which we disagree ? Indeed the disagreements 
 w^ere in themselves vastly great between the untainted 
 Christians of these Galatian churches, and that horrid sect 
 that the apostle's discourse has manifest reference unto. 
 Blessed be God there are not such disagreements amongst 
 us. But while there is less taint of error in our minds (as 
 to these things), are we not concerned to take heed there be 
 not as great a taint of this vicious carnality in our hearts ? 
 It speaks too much of it ; when having devised a difference, 
 we are prone to overlook and make little account of the 
 great things wherein we are entirely and most professedly 
 agreed. 
 
 If we consider the things which the doctrinal part of 
 this epistle doth more expressly refer to, as I have noted 
 already, how great things in reference hereto are we fully 
 agreed in ! We are all agreed, that a sinner, an apostate 
 lapsed creature, can never be saved and brought to a blessed 
 state, but he must be justified, and he must be sanctified. 
 He must be justified, to make his state safe ; he must be 
 sanctified, to make the temper of his spirit good, capable 
 of communion with God in this world, and of final eternal 
 blessedness with him in the other. We are agreed, that 
 such justification and such sanctification are both the effects 
 of most absolutely free and sovereign grace ; that none 
 could be ever justified, but by freest grace ; that none can 
 ever be sanctified but by freest grace, most absolutely and 
 most sovereignly fi-ee. We are agreed, that the highest per- 
 fection of sanctification that can ever possibly be attained 
 unto, signifies nothing at all to deserve, to procure by merit 
 our justification. We are agreed, that both, as they are 
 from the most free and sovereign grace, so do come through 
 the mediation of Jesus Christ, the alone Mediator between 
 God and man : that the righteousness is entirely and only 
 Christ's, by which we are justified : that the Spirit is most 
 entirely and only Christ's, by which we are sanctified ; 
 
THE CARXALTTY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. J 85 
 
 according to that in 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10, 11. Such as are men- 
 tioned there were before the grossest and vilest of sinners, 
 fornicators, adulterers, idolaters, &c. "And such (salth the 
 apostle) were some of you : but ye are washed, but ye are 
 sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, 
 and by the Spirit of our God." 
 
 You cannot but be in all these agreed. We are agreed, 
 that whoever does sincerely, evangelically believe in God 
 through Christ, receives Christ, is united with him, or is 
 in liim : who doth by serious repentance turn to God, whose 
 lieart is won to love him in truth as his highest and best 
 good, who is conformed to the image of his Son ; and who 
 having been made willing in the day of his power, doth 
 now render a sincere obedience to him ; every such one is 
 in a safe state, accepted with God, has found grace in his 
 eyes- 
 
 For no words of Scripture can be plainer, than that they 
 that believe on Christ shall not perish, but have everlast- 
 ing life, John, iii. 16, yea, that they have it, ver. 36. That 
 life is begun with them which is never to end, or which 
 is in the sure way to be continued till it become everlast- 
 ing ; that they that repent, and turn from all their trans- 
 gressions, their iniquities shall not be their ruin (Ezek. 
 xviii, 30) ; that God hath prepared the things which eye 
 
 hath not seen for them that love him, and will give 
 
 them the crown of life according to his o^^Tl promise 
 (1 Cor. ii. 9 ; James, i. 12) ; that Christ doth become the 
 Author of eternal salvation to them that obey him (Heb. 
 v. 9) ; that there is no condemnation to them that are in 
 Christ, that walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit 
 (Rom. viii. 1) ; that it must turn wholly to the praise of 
 the glory of his grace, that God makes them accepted in 
 the beloved, Eph. i. 6. We do all agree, that they that 
 do never believe, they that never repent, they that never 
 love God, they that are never brought to obey him, that live 
 in enmity and rebellion against him to the last breath, must 
 needs be in a lost state, are never justified, never accepted 
 
186 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTEKTION. 
 
 with God, are liable unto coming and abiding wrath, and 
 remain under condemnation, John, iii. 16, 36 ; Luke, xiii. 
 3 ; Col. iii. 6. We agree, that such faith, such repentance, 
 such love to God, such obedience, even in the most entire 
 sincerity, are not to l)e considered at all, as any cause of 
 such a person's acceptance wiih God ; they do characterize 
 the accepted person, but they cause it not, they deserve 
 nothing ; nay, they could not, if they were perfect. No 
 internal work of the Holy Ghost, though in this our pre- 
 sent state it were most absolutely perfect^ so as to exclude 
 every thing of sin, could be any part of that righteousness 
 that must justify us before God. To suppose that it could, 
 would be manifestly to confound the offices of the Redeemer, 
 and of the Holy Ghost. It was Christ that was to merit 
 for us ; the Holy Ghost was never to merit for us. It was 
 not the Holy Ghost that died for us, nor can his operations 
 or productions in us, have any causative influence to the 
 meriting the justified and accepted state of any person 
 before God. They were never meant for that purpose, nor 
 have any aptitude or accommodateness thereunto. They 
 cannot make us never to have sinned ; nor can atone for 
 our having done so. We cannot but be agreed in this, . for 
 'tis plain, and carries its own evidence in itself : i. e. sup- 
 pose we a person, as soon as he is converted, made perfectly 
 free from sin, that very moment, by some extraordinary, 
 powerful work of the Holy Ghost on his soul, how shall 
 that expiate for his having been a sinner 1 Now where 
 there are so great things wherein we agree, and we make 
 little of them ; things that should raise up our souls, and 
 awaken all our powers unto highest acts of love, gratitude, 
 and praise to God and our Redeemer, and fill us with wonder 
 and pleasure as often as we think of them ; an indisposition 
 of mind to take notice of, and consider such things, so as to 
 improve and use them to the great purposes of the Christian 
 life, as incentives to the love of God, an entire devoting of 
 ourselves to him, vigorous and diligent serving of him, and 
 walking holily and comfortably with him in our daily 
 
THE CARNALITY OP RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 187 
 
 course, through a greater disposition to contend ahout we 
 well know not what besides, too plainly shews much of that 
 carnal disaffection, which the apostle doth here animadvert 
 upon. There are other things belonging to this same pur- 
 pose that I find I cannot reach to at this time. 
 
SEEMON II. 
 
 *-'fku I aa!f then, TValk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh."-. 
 Gal. V- 16- 
 
 I HAVE begun to shew you by what indications much 
 carnality may appear, and shew itself in and about spiritual 
 matters ; as (for instance), in the controverting, yea, even 
 in the defending, the truths of the gospel ; and intend now 
 to proceed. You have heard it does so. 
 
 1. When Christians, who are very far agreed in the most 
 important things, make little of the things wherein they 
 are agreed though never so great, in comparison of the 
 much less things wherein they differ ; as all serious Chris- 
 tians must be understood to agi*ee in far greater things 
 than it is possible for them to differ in. I lately mentioned 
 to you sundry great agreements that I cannot doubt to be 
 very common with serious and intelligent Christians, which 
 I shall not now stay to repeat, but add, 
 
 2. Such carnality shews itself, when there is too much 
 aptness to lay greater stress than is needful upon some 
 unscriptural words in delivering Scripture doctrine. Here 
 we may take carnality as the apostle doth, 1 Cor. iii. 3. 
 While there are divisions among you, are you not carnal, 
 and walk (or act) as men ? There is more of the man in 
 it than of the Christian ; when we can make a shift to divide 
 about a word, and that (in the present use of it) devised 
 only by man ; when words that are merely of human 
 stamp, and used in no such sense, or to no such purpose in 
 Scripture, however they may be significant, yet too great 
 a stress and weight is laid upon them, either by too stiffly 
 adhering to them on the one hand, or too vehemently 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 189 
 
 decrying them on the other hand ; while, perhaps (and it is 
 a certain and a known case) the meaning may be the same 
 on both sides, and would be so, or would appear to be so, 
 if such and such words were waived, and others more 
 understood were chosen, and used in the room of them. It 
 is true, we are not to think (and no man of sense can) that 
 we are obliged never to use other words in such matters, 
 but such as the translators of the Bible have hit on in their 
 version of it, as if that must consecrate those words, and 
 leave all other under a profane character ; but if it appear 
 that any word of a doubtful signification is misunderstood 
 by many, creates offence, and through some fixed, immov- 
 able prejudice, or prepossession that some other notion of 
 it hath obtained in the minds of many, it will always be 
 otherwise understood by them than we intend, let it rather 
 go for a nehushtan, than that the peace of the church 
 should be broken, and men's minds be disturbed and dis- 
 quieted by it. This is the case, when any such words as 
 might be arbitrarily used or laid aside, are made so neces- 
 sary, or so destructive, as if all religion were saved or lost 
 by them : when one so cries up such a word, as if he would 
 say, " The heavens must fall if I have not my word." And 
 another decries it as much, as if he said, " They must fall 
 if it be admitted, or if I have not mine." Sure there must 
 be in this case that forbidden "koyoiMayjoLy of which the 
 apostle speaks in that, 1 Tim. vi. 4, which they are usually 
 most apt to be guilty of, that are also guilty of what is put 
 in conjunction therewith, perverse disputings of men of 
 corrupt minds ; with these falls in this strife of words : 
 whether that be to be understood objectively, or instru- 
 mentally, strife about words, or wordy strifes, I shall not 
 here determine. But that whole context is worth our 
 considering, ver. 3, 4, 5. If any man teach otherwise, do 
 krsPodidaffxaXiT, teach other or alioi things, or after another 
 or alien manner, and consent not to the words of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, and the doctrine which is according to god- 
 liness : 4. He is proud, knowing nothing, but doting about 
 questions, and strife of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, 
 
190 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 railings, evil surmisings, 5. Perverse disputings of men of 
 corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth, supposing that 
 gain is godliness : from such withdraw thyself. And there- 
 with agrees what we find also mentioned, with the charge 
 of avoiding them, 2 Tim. ii. 23. Foolish and unlearned 
 questions that gender strifes. Some may fancy they make 
 themselves considerable for learning by such altercations ; 
 but the apostle slurs that conceit, calling them unlearned. 
 So I remember Seneca* says of the Greeks (calling it their 
 disease) that they made much ado with certain idle ques- 
 tions (as, how many rowers belonged to the vessel that 
 carried Ulysses ? and such like, that he there mentions), 
 whereby, says he, they did not appear more learned, but 
 only more troublesome. 
 
 3. When we consider with too little indulgence one 
 another's mistakes and misapplications, in the use even of 
 Scripture words, placing them as some may do, upon things 
 to which they do not properly belong, when yet they agree 
 about the things themselves. There are words in the Scrip- 
 ture revelation, that it may be the one or the other of dis- 
 agreeing persons may apply to one thing, when the other 
 (perhaps truly) thinks they belong more properly to an- 
 other. There is an inconvenience in this : the case is much 
 as if one should have an idea of all the streets of London, 
 in his mind as they lie, but he mistakes the names, and 
 transposes them. As for instance, calls Cheap-side Corn- 
 hill, or Cornhill Cheap-side. He does not speak so intelli- 
 gibly to another, but at the same time may have the same 
 idea in his mind of London that another has. And this 
 however, when it occurs in religious disceptations, ought 
 to be considered (though there be an inconvenience in it) 
 with indulgence, as knowing we are all liable to mistakes in 
 greater matters. And as it is possible there may be some- 
 what of carnality, some perverseness, some cloud arising 
 from infirm flesh that darkens the mind, and occasions it 
 so to mistake ; so 'tis much greater, not to be able to bear 
 in another such a mistake. 
 
 * De Brev. Vita. 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 191 
 
 4. When there is an agreement about the main and prin- 
 cipal things that the Scripture revelation contains and 
 carries in it ; but there is not that agreement about their 
 mutual respects and references unto one another. This is 
 a matter indeed of greai^r ij:.i}vortauce ; there can be no 
 true scheme given of gospel truths and doctrines, if such 
 their references and respects to one another be not rightly 
 understood. But an entire true scheme of Christian doc- 
 trines will not enter into all minds ; and for the most j)art 
 they are particular passages, or particular truths, that strike 
 hearts, and that God makes use of to do souls good by. 
 And if so entire a scheme will not enter into the minds of 
 many, whether through their darkness or ignorance, or 
 whether through any thing of prejudice, that was as it were 
 forelaid in their minds ; nothing remains but to be patient 
 of it, and to do them what good we can, even upon their 
 own terms, and in the way wherein they are capable of it. 
 There was such an obstruction in minds among these Co- 
 rinthians, even upon this very account of their carnality, as 
 we see in that 3d of the 1st epistle, that the apostle tells 
 them, I could not speak to you as spiritual (it must be 
 understood comparatively) ; but as unto carnal ; and there- 
 fore, as a wise instructor, thought it needful to keep back, 
 to withhold some things from them that he reckoned might 
 be meat to them, solid meat, strong meat, because they 
 had been hithei-to unable to bear it, nor were yet able. It 
 is in that case needful rather somewhat to sts^siv, to with- 
 hold some things, or suspend, than by a continued and too 
 urgent inculcation to frustrate one's own design ; and while 
 we would have all enter into less capable minds, to have 
 nothing enter. It may sometimes be, that when too much 
 is endeavoured at once to be borne in upon them against 
 an invincible obstruction, we only engage them to fortify 
 the more strongly, and shut out all ; and so we defeat our- 
 selves. They gain nothing, and our whole design is frus- 
 trated and lost. In all our applications to the souls of 
 men, there must be patient waiting, and very gradual en- 
 deavourp used, without force and furious striving ; yea, in 
 
192 THE CARNALITY OF EELIQIOFS COHTENTION. 
 
 our having to do with such as are yet the very vassals 
 and captives of the devil. So the apostle speaks, 2 Tim. 
 ii. 24. The servant of the Lord should not strive, but be 
 patient toAvards (even all) men, and wait (even in reference 
 to them that are hitherto altogether impenitent), when God 
 will give them repentance, that they may recover them- 
 selves out of the snare of the devil, that are led captive by 
 him at his will. Much more are such methods to be used 
 towards them, who call on the name of our Lord out of a 
 pure heart, as he speaks a little above in the same context, 
 ver. 22. And consider the extent and endearingness of this 
 character. 'Tis to be deplored that it extends not further ; 
 but so far as it doth extend, God forbid it should not have 
 a most persuasive efficacy and power upon our spirits, 
 to make us follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, even 
 with all them that bear that character, ^. e. that call on 
 the Lord with a pure heart ; their Lord (as 'tis elsewhere) 
 as well as ours ; be they of what party, or denomination, 
 soever. 
 
 5. Much of this carnality appears about such matters, 
 when we are over intent to mould and square gospel truths 
 and doctrines by human measures and models, and too 
 earnestly strive to make them correspond ; that is, when 
 we aim, beyond what things can admit, to stretch (or rather 
 to shrink and contract) God's transactions with men, unto 
 the scheme and model of our owa abstract notions and de- 
 finitions, or of merely human, civil, or political economies, 
 administrations, and transactions ; such I mean as obtain 
 among men towards one another ; and so labour to have the 
 same measures take place throughout in reference to divine 
 things, as do in human. Whereby more than is needful, 
 useful (or indeed so much as possible to agree and quadrate), 
 of logic, metaphysics, and of civil and other law, is intro- 
 duced into theology. Illustrations indeed may be taken 
 thence, but not strict measures. It is impossible sometimes 
 they should be so. Divers things are taken among men in 
 such notions, as, in delivering tlie doctrine of the gospel 
 cannot have a full and adequate place : they often will not 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 193 
 
 exactly agree or correspond. As if, in speaking of God's 
 pardoning and justifying a sinner, we should take our 
 measures of pardon and justification strictly from what 
 obtains amongst men, we shall find a great difference and 
 disagreement. For plain it is, that, according to human 
 measures, the same person cannot be both pardoned and 
 justified. He that is pardoned cannot be justified, and he 
 that is justified, cannot be pardoned. But according to 
 divine and gospel measures both are truly said of the same 
 person. In the one case there is an inconsistency, in the 
 other a fair agreement of the same things. He that is at a 
 human bar a justified person, needs no pardon, his case 
 admits of none ; if he were justified, pardon were absurdly 
 talked of ; and so if he were pardoned, that does plainly 
 imply that he was not justified. It is quite otherwise if 
 you bring these things to the gospel, and God's dealing 
 with sinners. I cannot now spend time in shewing you 
 distinctly how these things do lie, and are very capable of 
 being accommodated, in the sinner's case ; some resem- 
 blance will appear, not an exact or entire correspondency. 
 The instance, however, serves our present pui-pose, to shew 
 that God's procedure and methods in his dispensations 
 towards men, will not in all things square with human 
 measures. 
 
 Again, if we speak of the doctrine of God's covenant in 
 Jesus Christ, we cannot take our measures from human 
 covenants that pass between man and man, especially one 
 private man and another ; for there the persons are under 
 no obligation before their mutual consent. It is not so 
 between God and man : God's covenants are laws as well 
 as covenants ; and so a man is, before he consents, obliged 
 to consent. Therefore here again it appears gospel doctrines 
 are not to be exactly measured by human models. Nor 
 should this be too earnestly endeavoured, we should not 
 too much set our minds upon it ; 'tis to offer at a thing in 
 its own nature not practicable, and there is too much of 
 man in it. 
 
 6. When there is a discernible proneness to oppose the 
 
 N 
 
194 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 great things of the gospel to one another, and to exalt or 
 magnify one, above or against another. It is too plain this 
 may more commonly come under observation, than it doth 
 under that reprehension which it deserves. For instance, 
 those two great things that I mentioned at first, justifica- 
 tion and sanctification, both very great things, of most ap- 
 parent and confessed necessity to the salvation and blessed- 
 ness of the souls of men ; justification, that a man's state 
 may be good ; sanctification, that the temper of his soul 
 may become so. But is it not too common to magnify one 
 of these above or against the other ? To contend and dis- 
 pute with great fervour concerning the higher value and 
 excellency, the dignity or precedency, of this or that, and 
 to which the preference belongs ; to be so much taken up 
 about the one, as seldom to think of the other ; and it 
 may be not well to savour and relish the mention of it ? 
 Some are so taken up about the business of justification 
 (that admirable vouchsafement of grace to sinners !) that 
 they care not to hear of sanctification ; and so all their 
 religion is foreign to them, or lies in somewhat without 
 them, or in a mere relative thing, that alters not their 
 spirits. A strange religion ! that makes a man nothing the 
 better man ; or notwithstanding which, he is, in the habitual 
 frame of his soul, as bad as ever, vain, earthly, worldly- 
 minded, proud, passionate, wrathful, malicious, vindictive, 
 false, deceitful perhaps (for that is not worse than the rest) 
 very impurely sensual. But, no man can tell why, nor to 
 be sure he himself, he takes himself to be a justified per- 
 son : and perhaps his imagination of it raises in him a 
 sort of rapturous, unaccountable joy, without ground or 
 root, and which will not only wither, but turn (without a 
 seasonable and merciful change) into endless horror, weep- 
 ing, wailing, and gnashing of teeth ! A fearful and most 
 surprising issue and disappointment of a high and unmis- 
 giving confidence, and expectation to be saved ! With 
 others, whose temper, circumstances, or temptations, have 
 less inclined them to rejoicing, their religion is made up of 
 tormenting anxieties and fears, and consists in the daily 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 195 
 
 revolving of perpetual endless doubts, whether they are 
 justified or no ; without any direct, formed design of being 
 or doing good ; by which they might, in due time, come to 
 have more truly comfortable apprehensions of the goodness 
 of their state. They more care to be pardoned for being 
 bad, than to become good ! 
 
 Again, on the other hand, there may be some so wholly 
 taken up about what they are in themselves to be and do, 
 and in the earnest, but too abstract, or less evangelical (and 
 therefore less fruitful), endeavour after higher pitches of 
 sanctity, without due reference to the grace, Spirit, and 
 blood of a Redeemer, that they neglect and look not after 
 their justification, and acceptance with God in him ; nor 
 do relish and savour, as they ought, the doctrine of the 
 gospel herein. These do more incline to a philosophical (and 
 scarcely Christian) Christianity ; forgetting Christ to be 
 their Redeemer, their Lord, and vital Head, and that they 
 are (or ought to be) under his conduct, and through his 
 mediation, daily tending to God and blessedness. 
 
 But now upon the whole, when there appears an aptness 
 or disposition to separate these two, justification and sanc- 
 tification, from one another, or either of them fi-om abiding 
 in Christ ; or to oppose them to one another, or contend 
 about the priority of the one or the other (when no doubt 
 they go together), and about the preference or excellency 
 of the one above the other, which is the more considerable 
 thing : herein appears much carnality of mind, an unsound, 
 injudicious distempered spirit. And 'tis a like case, as if a 
 malefactor at the same time is under sentence by which he 
 is condemned to die, and under a most dangerous disease, 
 that appears very probably mortal to him : he has a com- 
 passionate prince, willing to save his life, and he at once 
 vouchsafes him his pardon, and provides a very skilful and 
 able physician for the curing of his disease : the wretched 
 creature hearing of this, falls a disputing which of these 
 is the greatest favour, to have my disease cured, or, to have 
 my crime pardoned ; and in the heat of the dispute he 
 neglects both, looks after neither. This is indeed less sup- 
 
196 THE CARNALITY OP RELiaiOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 posable, in the instanced case ; but how great a distemper 
 doth it shew, that it should be so, in this, which is of inex- 
 pressibly greater importance ! 
 
 And now further it is agreed on all hands, that faith in 
 a Redeemer is necessary to salvation, with those that are 
 adult, and capable of attending to the gospel revelation ; 
 but here, what disputes are there raised ! with what fervour 
 are they managed, concerning the place of it, or the kind of 
 that necessity which this faith is of, in order to the safe 
 state of a sinner ! A like case again, as if such a condemned 
 malefactor is told of his prince's professed, gracious inten- 
 tions towards him, but he doubts the sincerity of his pro- 
 fessions. He gives him all desirable assurances, and tells 
 him. Do but trust me, and all shall be well. But he pre- 
 sently fails a disputing. Yea, but how am I to consider this 
 trust 1 (we suppose it only such a trust as may be fitly 
 enough placed upon a man) ; which way is it to contribute 
 towards my safety or welfare 1 Is it to be an instrument or a 
 condition ? How absurd an abuse were this of the clemency 
 of a propitious prince ! If there were a public proclamation 
 of pardon to many offenders at once concerned together, and 
 they all agree only to disagree, to vie with one another in 
 their skill in criticising upon the words, or in disputing the 
 method, contending about the order and coherence of parts, 
 and make it their business not thankfully to accept, but cavil 
 at, to tear and mangle and pluck in pieces the proclamation, 
 and defeat the kind design and gracious tender of their 
 prince ? What clemency would not this provoke to the 
 highest resentment and indignation ! And what now can 
 be stranger, or more perverse, than that a revelation from 
 heaven of so much good will to men, in the substance so 
 plain, and that so directly concerns the salvation of souls, 
 should be so torn and mangled ? considered for no purpose 
 less than that for which it was vouchsafed, and that the 
 very end itself should be in so great part eluded, that was 
 so kindly designed in it ? Though yet the endeavour of 
 salving difficulties that occur, by earnest prayer, diligent 
 study, and by amicable and placid conference among brethren, 
 
THE CARNALITY OF IIELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 197 
 
 or comparing of sentiments, sincerely designed for a clearer 
 understanding the frame of the gospel truth, or how it may 
 be with most advantage represented to men for the pro- 
 moting of the common salvation, can be liable to no just 
 reprehension, being managed with that reverence that so 
 sacred things challenge, and with a due sense of our own 
 ignorance and imperfection. That only which is blameable 
 in this case, and whereof I reckon no account can be given, 
 or defence made, is that when, for the substance, the gospel 
 propounds and lays before us so plain a way wherein men 
 are to endeavour the saving of their souls, as wherein the 
 wayfaring man, though a fool, needs not err, i. e. that there 
 must be repentance towards God, faith in our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, a renewed heart, a holy life. One comes and pre- 
 tends to shew that order of these things one way, so as to 
 compose a scheme of them that is represented as most 
 necessary to be observed and held to. No, saith another, 
 I'll give you a righter scheme of salvation, another way, 
 and mightily presses the necessity of that, and the dangerous 
 mistakes of the other. And thus they cover a plain way 
 with thorns and briers, do not instruct, but perplex and 
 distract whom they should direct, create distinctions and 
 oppositions of scheme to scheme, not only without necessity, 
 but almost without a difference, and yet insist with 
 vehemency, and lay men's salvation upon their understand- 
 ing the matter so or so, when it is hoped thousands have 
 been saved, that never heard of the one scheme or the other, 
 as they are distinguished and opposed to each other. Who 
 can justify this ? Again, in the 
 
 Ith place, When any do with great zeal contend for this 
 or that opinion or notion, as very sacred and highly 
 spiritual (as they account), with no other design, than that 
 under that pretence they may indulge their own carnal 
 inclination with the greater liberty. It was the very genius 
 of this sort of men against whom this epistle was meant, 
 whether they were then called Gnostics it matters not. Tlie 
 name well agreed to them, and they were known by it 
 afterwards. They were men of much pretence to know- 
 
198 THE CARNALITY OP RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 ledge and sublime notions, as they counted them. And 
 herein lay their religion ; and under this pretence they 
 indulged themselves in all manner of licentiousness. And 
 it is now the same case when any do take up with mere 
 notions, which they are zealous for, accounting them 
 very highly spiritual ; and under pretext of these, they 
 indulge the carnality of their hearts, if not of their lives 
 and practices too ; and their fine notion (as they account 
 it), which they (more uncertainly) father upon the 
 Spirit of truth, must be substituted in the room of all 
 that love, meekness, humility, heavenliness, self-denial, 
 which are the most certain and undoubted fruits of this 
 blessed kSpirit : when under the pretence of being notional 
 men, and of knowing a great deal more than most others 
 do, any neglect their own spirits, and suffer" pride, avarice, 
 ambition, vindictiveness, and falsehood, to shelter them- 
 selves under the thin cobweb of a few fine-spun notions ; 
 and they can now^ hereupon live at random, with more ease 
 to their own minds, and, they think, with better reputation 
 as to other men. 
 
 Here is a glittering shew only of an airy, imagined, pre- 
 tended spirituality, dra'SMi over (but which doth not hide.) 
 corrupt, rotten, putrid flesh. Have you never known such 
 a case, when it might be said, there goes a proud, ambi- 
 tious man, a covetous man, a false man, a malicious man : 
 but he is a man of rare and singular notions, knows a 
 great deal more than most others do ; and this must atone 
 for all liis crimes with God and man, and both quiet his 
 conscience and salve his credit together ! And who can 
 doubt but this man must be very fond of his own opinions, 
 and zealously contend and dispute for them upon any 
 occasion (though he never so ineptly make it) when they 
 are to do him so great service, and to stand him in so much 
 stead, i. e. to supply the room for him of all real religion 
 and morality. And if ye have happened upon such notions 
 as are really true, and revealed by God himself, by how 
 much the more certainly divine they be, so much the 
 greater is the wickedness, so basely to prostitute sacred 
 things, truths that are the very offspring of heaven, unto 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 199 
 
 SO vile purposes. It were fault enough to make them serve 
 different or other purposes than they are capable of, i. e. 
 to supply the room of religion and real goodness. What 
 an indignity is that to religion, to suppose an empty spirit- 
 less opinion can fill up its place ! a thing that does a 
 man no good, for which his mind and spirit is nothing the 
 better ! much more, that shelters what is so very bad ! Can 
 this serve for religion 1 That religion that consists with 
 being proud, with being deceitful, with being malicious, 
 with being revengeful, learn, learn to despise such a reli- 
 gion ! Much more that is taken up to veil over these, and 
 exclude all real goodness ! Again, 
 
 8. When, in the maintaining any doctrine of the gospel 
 in opposition to other men, we industriously set ourselves to 
 pervert their meaning, and impute things to them that they 
 never say. Or again, if we charge their opinions whom we 
 oppose with consequences which they disclaim, professing, 
 it may be, rather to disclaim their former opinion, and 
 change their judgment, than admit such consequences, if 
 they could discern any connexion between the one and 
 the other. This surely argues a mighty disposition to 
 contend, when we will quarrel with one that is really of our 
 own mind ; for herein he appears to be virtually already of 
 the same mind in a greater matter, at least, than he differs 
 with us about ; because no man charges another's opinion 
 with a consequence, designing thereby to oblige him to 
 change his opinion ; but as supposing it to be an agreed thing 
 between them both, that the consequence is worse than the 
 opinion. When therefore the consequence I charge is 
 disclaimed by him whom I oppose, either it is justly charged, 
 or it is not. If it be not, his opinion may be true, notwith- 
 standing what I herein say to the contrary, and I am cer- 
 tainly so far in an error. But if it be justly charged, being 
 yet disclaimed, we are formally agreed concerning the 
 consequence, and are virtually agreed concerning the dis- 
 puted point too, because he professedly disavows it upon 
 supposition such a consequence would follow, which yet 
 perhaps he sees not ; and so the agreement must be much 
 
200 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 greater than the difference. And yet commonly this signi- 
 fies nothing in order to peace : that is, it is not enough, that 
 I see the same things that you do, unless I also see them 
 too with your eyes. 
 
 9. When such disputes do arise at length to wrath, to 
 angry strife, yea, and even to fixed enmity. What dread- 
 ful carnality is here ! Most deservedly so called, if you 
 only consider flesh or carnality as an unreasonable, a brutal 
 thing. For what can be more unreasonable or unaccount- 
 able than to fall out with another man, because he thinks 
 not as I do, or receives not my sentiments, as I also do 
 not receive his. Is it not to be considered, that he no 
 further differs from me than I do fi'om him ? If there be 
 cause of anger, upon this account, on one side, there is the 
 same cause on the other too ; and then whither shall this 
 grow ? And how little can this avail upon a rational estimate ? 
 Can any good come of it 1 doth it tend to the clearing of 
 truth 1 Shall we see the better through the clouds and dust 
 we raised ? Is a good cause served by it 1 or do we think 
 it possible the wrath of man should ever work the right- 
 eousness of God ? And when such carnalities as these do 
 exert themselves, and the hot steams and fumes arise, 
 which the apostle here calls the lusts of the flesh, the flesh 
 lusting to envy, lusting to wrath ; what is the product (or 
 even the productive cause) but that sort of fire which is 
 without light ? And 3'ou know what fire that resembles ! 
 And if a man once find any fervour of this kind stir or 
 kindle in his breast, if he rightly consider, he would no 
 more cherish it, than one would do a brand thrown into 
 his bosom from the infernal fire. One should think in this 
 case, What have I stin-ing within me ? something a-kiu to 
 hell ! Can this conduce to the service of divine and 
 heavenly truth ? And let it be sadly considered : our being, 
 upon such accounts, angry with one another, is a dismal 
 token of God's being angry with us all, and a provoking 
 cause of it too. Methinks that should be a qualmy thought ! 
 and strike our souls with a strange damp ! Shall I indulge 
 that in myself, that is a mark upon me of divine dis- 
 
THE CARNALITI OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 201 
 
 pleasure ; and upon all in whom it is found 1 To have his 
 Holy Spirit retire, that blessed Spirit of love, and of a 
 sound mind, and to leave us under the power of rebellious 
 lusting flesh ! Can this be grateful, or not be a dismaying, 
 fi-ightful thing 1 And whereas a right scheme of gos})el 
 doctrine is the thing pretended to be striven for, I beseech 
 you consider : The more entirely, and the more deeply, the 
 true scheme of gospel doctrine is inlaid in a man's soul, 
 the more certainly it must form it into all meekness, 
 humility, gentleness, love, kindness, and benignity towards 
 fellow-Christians of Avhatsoever denomination ; not con- 
 fined, not limited (as that of the Pharisees) unto their own 
 party ; but diffusing and spreading itself to all that bear 
 the character and cognisance of Christ. The Spirit of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ is a Spirit of greater amplitude ; extends 
 and diffuses itself through the whole body of Christ. 
 
 Nor can any man more effectually disgrace his own 
 cause, or make sure to worst himself in it, than by defend- 
 ing it wrathfully. For admit that he err whom I oppose, 
 a thousand to one but that my ^^Tath is worse than his 
 error, probably a thousand times worse. I go about there- 
 fore to take away a mote fi-om his eye, having a beam in 
 my own ; or am more concerned for a misplaced hair upon 
 his head, than I am for a fiery ulcer in my own breast. 
 We are not, 'tis true, to be so stoical to condemn the natu- 
 ral passion of anger, as such, for sinful. But if it exceeds 
 its cause, and sets not with the sun, it becomes strange, 
 unhallowed fire. But again, in the 
 
 \Oth place, There is still a further appearance of great 
 carnality in such cases, when any do adventure to judge 
 of the consciences and states of them whom they oppose, 
 or from whom they differ : when they ascend the tribunal, 
 usurp the throne, pass sentence upon them, as men of no 
 conscience, or of no sincerity, or uprightness of iieart with 
 God. As if theirs were to be the universal conscience, the 
 measure of all consciences ; and he that cannot be governed 
 by their conscience must have none at all : or he be stark 
 blind towards truth, towards God, and towards himself, 
 
202 THE CARNALITY OP RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 that sees not every thing they see, or fancy themselves 
 to see. 
 
 This is a most high usurpation upon divine preroga- 
 tive ; and how can any insensibly slide into such an evil 
 as this, in the face of so plain and so awful a text of Scrip- 
 ture, that so severely animadverts upon it ? that 14th to 
 the Romans, and sundry verses of it. With what rever- 
 ence and dread should it strike a man's soul in such a 
 case ! AVhen we have the rights of the Redeemer asserted 
 in those whom he hath bought with his blood. And are 
 told that " for this end Christ both died, and rose, and 
 revived, that he might be Lord both of the dead and living," 
 ver. 9. And it's thereupon further said to us, " Who art 
 thou that judgest another's servant," as ver. 10. " Why dost 
 thou judge thy brother, or set at nought thy brother ? We 
 must all stand before the judgment seat of Christ." We 
 are all of us his, he both died, and revived, and rose 
 again, that he might be Lord of all, as Acts x. 36. And 
 here of dead and living, i. e. that he might be owner of all, 
 which is the first notion of Dominus or Lord, and in both 
 worlds, the visible and the invisible ; that into which many 
 are dead, and deceased from hence, and so to us become 
 invisible ; and many that, yet surviving, are still visible to 
 us. So ample is his dominion ! And because the jiis 
 imperii, the right of government, of which judgment is the 
 last, conclusive act, hath for its foundation the jus dominii, 
 the right of lordship ; 'tis therefore asserted to him as the 
 corona (the crown) and complement, the very summity 
 of his acquired rights, that he is to finish all things by the 
 last judgment, which must pass upon both the already 
 dead and the yet living. Thus is the ground of the 
 expostulation laid. Who art thou who presumest to justle 
 him out of this his supreme and most sacred right ? Per- 
 haps the matter disputed about may be doubtful, but 
 there is no doubt concerning this incommunicable autho- 
 rity of our Lord Christ, or concerning his law against 
 such judging. Matt. vii. 1. And to run into certain sin, 
 in a furious chasing of uncertain error ! what considera- 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 203 
 
 tion, what tenderness of offending, of affronting him, and 
 of hazarding our own souls, is there in all this ? 
 
 To judge other men's consciences, is of so near affinity 
 with governing them, that they that can allow themselves 
 to do the former, want only power, not will or inclination, 
 to offer at the other too. Which puts the matter out of 
 doubt, that when men of this temper complain of such 
 iisurpation, 'tis not that they think it an offence in itself, 
 hut against them only ; and that no consciences ought to 
 he free, but their own. The proof of an honest and equal 
 mind herein is, when we judge this to be evil, not being 
 hurt by it ; or abhor to hurt others in this kind, when we 
 have power to do it. Upon which account that passage is 
 memorable of the emperor Maximilian II. to a certain 
 prelate, that there was no sin, no tyranny, more grievous 
 than to affect dominion over men's consciences ; and that 
 they who do so, go about to invade the tower of heaven. 
 A considerable saying from so great a prince, that lived 
 and died in the Roman communion. What shall be thought 
 of any such protestants, that Avithout any colour or shadow 
 of a ground, besides differing from them in some very dis- 
 putable and unimportant opinions, shall presume to judge 
 of other men's consciences (and consequently of their states 
 God-ward), which such a one as he thought it so presump- 
 tuous wickedness to attempt to overrule or govern 1 
 
 11. When we over-magnify our own understandings, 
 and assume too much to ourselves. That is, do expect that 
 our minds be taken for standards to all minds ; as if we, 
 of all mankind, were exempt from error, or the possibility 
 of being mistaken. A certain sort of piXuvria or a-jdddsia, 
 an excess of love and admiration of ourselves, or over- 
 pleasedness with ourselves, too much self-complacency, is 
 the true (though very deep and most hidden) root of our 
 common mischief in such cases. We wrap up ourselves 
 within ourselves, and then we are all the world. Do only 
 compare ourselves with ourselves, never letting it enter into 
 our minds, that others have their sentiments too, perhaps 
 wiser than ours ; but abound in our own sense ; and while 
 
204 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 (as the apostle in that case says) we are not wise, and per- 
 haps are the only persons that think ourselves so, we yet 
 take upon us, as if we were fit to dictate to the world, to 
 all Christians and to all mankind ; or as if we only were 
 the men, and wisdom must die with us. 
 
 This is a sort of evil, than which there is none more 
 common and none less observed ; none wherewith the 
 guilty are so little apt to charge themselves, or admit con- 
 viction of it. For, I pray, do but consider ; all the several 
 differing parties amongst us do with one voice pretend to 
 be for peace ; but how, and upon what terms ? Why, that 
 all the rest are presently to be of their mind ; and that is 
 all the peace that most are for. For where (scarce any 
 where) is the man to be found, or how great a rarity is he, 
 that entertains the thought " That there may, for ought I 
 know, be much to be redressed and corrected in my appre- 
 hensions of things, to make me capable of falling in with 
 that truth which ought to be common to all." There is an 
 expectation with many, of a good time and state of things, 
 before this world end, when all shall be of one mind and 
 judgment ; but the most think it must be by all men's 
 becoming of their mind and judgment. And of this self- 
 conceit it is usually a harder thing to fasten conviction 
 upon men, than of most other evils. We have more hope 
 in speaking against di-unkenness, murder, or any the gross- 
 est kind of wickedness ; for there the conscience of the 
 guilty falls in, and takes part with the reprover. But we 
 can more easily, and more frequently do (though not fre- 
 quently enough), observe the faults of the inferior facul- 
 ties or of our external actions, than of the faculty itself 
 which should observe. Our mind, which is naturally like 
 our eye, is, in this, too like, ^. e. that it can see every thing 
 but itself. It doth not, by using it, preserve its peculiar 
 self- reflecting power ; is blind towards itself, beyond what 
 naturally belongs to it. An object may be too near our 
 bodily eye to be seen. Our mind is herein too bodily, 
 too much carnalized, sunk too deep into flesh. It is the 
 next thing to itself ; and here, not by its primitive nature 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION". 205 
 
 (by which as an intellectual sun it could revert its beams, 
 and turn them inward upon itself), but by depravation, it 
 for the most part sees nothing ; or doth worse, thinks itself 
 to see what is not to be seen, certain imaginary excellencies, 
 which make the man his own idol ; an object of a sort of 
 adoration to himself ; and of scorn and derision (most pro- 
 bably to every one else.) In this case every man is, how- 
 ever, most commonly innocent in his own eyes, or still 
 thinks he is in the right ; amidst the so vast a variety of 
 apprehensions and sentiments no one suspects himself to be 
 in the wrong. All are for the truth, and they are all for 
 peace and union. By which some indeed more gently, 
 mean, they hope all will quit their former mistaken opinions 
 and ways (as in great kindness to themselves they take for 
 granted all men's are but their own) and come wholly over 
 to them. Others, that have not breasts capable of even so 
 much charity than this, not only are as much lovers and 
 admirers of themselves, but so vehement haters of all that 
 presume to differ from them, that they think them not fit 
 to live in the world that durst adventure to do so. The 
 meaning, therefore, of their being for peace, is, that they 
 would have all destroyed that are not of their minds ; and 
 then (as the Roman historian speaks) Quando solitudinem 
 fecere appellant pacem ; when they have madt a desolation, 
 so that they themselves are left alone in the world, that they 
 will call p>eace. 
 
 But you will say. What is to be done ? or what would 
 I persuade in this case of difl^ering apprehensions and ways 
 still remaining among Christians ? I answer. Not pre- 
 sently to unbelieve all that ever a man hath believed be- 
 fore ; or to abandon on the sudden his former sentiments, 
 or to find fault with himself for having thought them 
 right. For 'tis a contradiction to be of any opinion, and 
 not then to think it right. Nor, therefore, is it scepticism, by 
 any means, that I would advise to ; as if there were nothing 
 to be thought certain, but this ; that whereas the greatest 
 and most necessary things in religion are most plain, that 
 is, either most plain in themselves, or most expressly re- 
 
206 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 vealed in the word of God. Here let us be stedfast our- 
 selves, without being severe towards other men. Other 
 things, that are more matter of doubt, and dispute by how 
 much the less plain they are, we should count so much 
 the less necessary. In reference, therefore, to these less 
 momentous things, about which there is with us most 
 of jangling, there ought always to be great modesty and 
 distrust of our own understandings, and a continued readi- 
 ness to receive infonnation, with constant looking up to 
 the Father of Lights for further illumination, and a resolu- 
 tion, wherein we, with others, have attained, to walk by 
 the same rule, minding the same (agreed) things, hoping 
 God will reveal his mind to the otherwise minded in his 
 own time, as the apostle in Phil. iii. 16, 17. But to hasten 
 to a close, I further add in the 
 
 Last place, Such carnality greatly shews itself in an 
 affectation and desire of having such disputes still kept 
 afoot, and the contests continued without either limit or 
 rational design. This shews a deep tincture, and is a 
 plain indication of a mind, to a very great degree carnal- 
 ized, when a mighty pleasure is taken to see the saw dra\\Ti, 
 and the ball kept up. And if the question be asked. Pray 
 how long 1 So little of reasonable answer can be given, 
 that it might as well be said in plain terms. Till all words 
 be spent, till speech or language fail, till Elias come, or 
 doomsday come. So that if there were never so much 
 reason to commend the having said somewhat in defence 
 of this or that disputed point, we might yet say, as Seneca 
 did of Cicero's so much over-praising his own consulship, 
 " I blame him not for praising it without cause, but for 
 doing it without end ;" or that he could never give over, 
 or tell when he had said enough. Upon the same terms 
 upon which it is now so much desired such disputes 
 should be continued, when what is truly enough is already 
 said, they might as well wish they always should. Which 
 signifies, that when we say, we would have men contend 
 for truth, we wish it not so much for truth's sake, as for 
 fhe contention's sake. By all means, say they, strive for 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 207 
 
 the truth : not that they care so much for truth as for 
 the strife. For in some circumstances there is not an end 
 in view, that is rationally to be designed or served by it, 
 on this side the end of all things. Nor consequently any 
 good principle that is to be exercised or gratified thereby. 
 What is needful to be said in the matters already referred 
 to, for the informing and satisfying of tractable minds sin- 
 cerely willing to understand the truth, lies within a little 
 compass. And when, in controversy, that is once said 
 which truly belongs to the very point in question, the rest 
 is commonly trifling and reflection, or the perplexing of 
 the matter more, and darkening the counsel by words 
 without knowledge. If love to truth be alleged for the 
 principle that prompts men to covet so continual alterca- 
 tions about it, I would say this shew^s more want of love 
 to it. For hereby they are diverted from that which ren- 
 ders it most of all amiable, and for which it ought chiefly 
 to be loved. As it is the truth according to godliness, and 
 by which we are to be sanctified, and begotten more and 
 more (as of an immortal seed, into the divine likeness.) 
 Experience shews how little disputes better men's spirits. 
 If we love divine truth, why do we not feed and live upon 
 it, and enjoy its pleasant relishes ? but relish gravel more, 
 or chaffs and bran ? For thither the agitation of continued 
 controversies about it doth soon sift it, the grain of flour 
 (the kidney of the wheat) being passed away, and gone 
 from us. Can none remember when the disputative humour 
 had even eaten out the power and spu-it of practical religion 
 and godliness ? Thither things are again tending if, either 
 by severity or mercy (one may say rather than not other- 
 wise, by merciful severity), God do not prevent and repress 
 that tendency. As yet I fear the humour is violent, when 
 the fervour of men's spirits is such, as to carry them over 
 all Scripture directions, and animadversions, that they 
 signify nothing with them ; only make it their business 
 each one to animate the more vogued champions of their 
 own party into the highest ferments, and cry, Dispute, 
 dispute, write, write, preach, preach one against another ; 
 
208 THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 let not the business go over so, do not keep silence. Thus 
 are many, as the apostle speaks, puffed up for one against 
 another, 1 Cor. iv. 6. And what, has such a text of Scrip- 
 ture as that no edge, no point, by which to lance, to pierce 
 such a tumour ? No ; when the humour is once up, and 
 has en wrapt men's hearts ; is settled there, and hath ob- 
 dured them to a bra-^nay hardness ; such texts of Scripture, 
 though so mighty pat and apposite, are esteemed by them 
 but as leviathan esteems spears and swords, like straw and 
 rotten wood, they do not enter into men's hearts. A strange 
 kind of obduration ! 
 
 And how supposable is it, that they who are so puffed 
 up for others, may also, through the known corruption of 
 nature even in the best, do herein not a little to the puffing 
 up of them too. The apostle's concluding of this chapter 
 with those cautions. Let us not be desirous of vain-glory, 
 provoking one another, envying one another, immediately 
 upon his renewing of the precept (ver. 25) of walking in 
 the Spirit, and immediately before those words (chap. vi. 
 1), If a man be overtaken with a fault, ye which are spiri- 
 tual restore such a one in the spirit of meekness, shews 
 how he understood the case to be with these Galatian 
 Christians, that as to doctrinals were yet sound and un- 
 fallen : that there was yet such carnality working in their 
 continued contests (though for the truth), such pride, such 
 affectation of vain-glory, such wrathfulness, as shewed it 
 was not mere love to truth that kept up the contest, but 
 some such worse principles. Nothing is plainer than that 
 principles and ends measure one another. And when that 
 is done, or coveted to be done, that serves no good end ; 
 or is so done, as not to serve, but destroy or hinder, any 
 end that is truly good ; the principle must be very bad that 
 moves the wheel. Disorderly eccentric motions bewray 
 their principle and end together. When the carriage and 
 conduct of an affair, that carries with it the appearance of 
 serving the truth, is impetuous, eager, precipitant ; when 
 there is no good end in view of the present so modified 
 endeavour ; when enough is agreed already to serve the 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 209 
 
 most important ends, unity among brethren, the salvation 
 of souls, and yet things are further insisted on, unnecessary 
 to either, yea, prejudicial to both, and upon which the 
 weight and stress of either of these cannot be laid without 
 sin ; it too plainly appears vain-glory to oneself, or the 
 slurring of a (designed) adversary is the end ; and then the 
 principle is proportionable. Yet, even in the light, and 
 when matters are thus open and in view, oppositions are 
 pushed on, and men's spirits rise to that pitch, as to bear 
 down whatever is proposed, only with design to make their 
 career a little slower ; yea, and they are apt, rather than 
 hearken, to put opprobrious names and characters upon 
 them that are not altogether so furious as themselves. 
 
 Nor have they themselves the patience to consider con- 
 sequences, and whither these things tend ; i. e. that God 
 is provoked, that the souls of men are endangered, greatly 
 endangered. I have found in ray own conversation, that 
 some, even in distress, in agonies, have said, " Lord, be 
 merciful to us, I know not which w^ay to go ; one preaches 
 one thing, another preaches the quite contrary." I know 
 they mistake ; we do generally in substance preach the 
 same gospel. Thanks be to God, his gospel is not confined 
 to a few men, or to this or that party of men. But, in the 
 mean time, it is a thing of very ill consequence to lay 
 stumbling-blocks before the blind, bars and obstructions in 
 the way of the weak and the lame, Avhereby they may be 
 turned out of the way, who should rather be strengthened. 
 
 It is not considered, tliat where the danger is less of an 
 utter ruin to the souls of men, there is, however, occa- 
 sioned a great languor and enfeeblement. They should be 
 considered and treated, not only as being weak, but lest 
 they should be made so. When they are diverted from 
 the proper means of improvement and growth, and their 
 minds are alienated from those means, being otherwise 
 engaged, an ill habit is contracted ; and when the distemper 
 hath seized some, it spreads, and soon infects more. 
 Nutriment is dispensed from the head through the body, 
 by the co-operation of the several parts, as those texts, 
 
 VOL. n, o 
 
210 THE CARNALITY OF KELIGIOUS CO-XTEXTION. 
 
 Eph. iv. 16 ; Col. ii. 19, do with great emphasis and ele- 
 gancy speak. Understand it so, that how far soever there 
 is or ought to be actual communion, every limb and 
 joint contributes something to the strength and vigour of 
 the rest. So is nourishment ministered and spreads itself 
 in the body to its edifying itself in love : which love if it 
 fail, a universal languor cannot but ensue, the fi-ee circula- 
 tion of vital spirits being obstructed and stopped. And 
 those that are most sensible, if they be not so much other- 
 wise damnified, cannot, when they observe it, but be 
 grieved, and take it bitterly to heart, when the tokens 
 appear to their view of a general decay. The living members 
 of any body are pained, when the body is wasted and 
 rent ; dead or stupified and benumbed members feel it 
 not, are unapprehensive. But above all, it ought to be 
 considered (and how little is it !), that the Holy Spirit is 
 grieved, and doth (as we may fear it will more) sensibly 
 retire ; the gospel in which it is wont to breathe is trifled 
 with ; the glorious gospel, the gospel of the grace of God 
 (can men find nothing else to play with), by Avhich that 
 blessed Spirit hath begotten many a soul to God, and 
 nourished them unto life eternal. That precious thing 
 designed for so great and sacred purposes (as pampered 
 Avanton children do with their food), they dally with, or 
 quarrel about it, or squander and throw it away. How 
 can this but ofi"end 1 The self-procm-ed distempers which 
 did precede, and those that ensue, increase the offence. 
 When 'tis said, Eph. iv. 30, " Grieve not the Holy Spirit of 
 God" — and presently subjoined, ver. 31, " Let all bitterness, 
 and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil-speaking be 
 put away." Is it not left to us to collect, that these things 
 do more peculiarly grieve the Spirit 1 that Spirit of grace, 
 of all love, goodness, sweetness, and benignity ? There is 
 but one body, and one Spirit, a Spirit that spreads vital 
 influence in the body. What can you think of that Spirit 
 that feels every where 1 tliat is in the body a universal 
 sentient ? How can that Spirit but be grieved ? Passion 
 it is not capable of, but just and sedate displieency, that 
 
THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 211 
 
 matters should be so. How should any of us like it to have 
 our living body torn limb from limb, and part from part ! 
 Though with him real commotion and disturbance can have 
 no place, intellectual resentment is infinitely greater and 
 deeper than we can either feel or conceive. 
 
 But where this angry, tumefied, proud flesh is the 
 governing thing, none of these tremendous consequences or 
 considerations, while it is so, take any place. The litigious 
 quarrelsome genius will throw off all, will find no leisure 
 or room for a calm thought : but though the course in 
 which we are engaged should be ready to set on fire the 
 whole course of nature, will be still for casting abroad 
 firebrands, and arrows, and death ; and make us think this 
 fine sport ! If indeed there were room for any cooler 
 thoughts, one would think such as these should not lie 
 remote. How little any of us know, or are capable of 
 knowing, in this our present state ! that they that think 
 they know most, or are most conceited of their own know- 
 ledge, know nothing as they ought to know ; that they 
 that are most apt to contend, do most of all fight in the 
 dark ; that it is too possible there may be much know- 
 ledge Avithout love ; how little such knowledge is worth ! 
 that it profits nothing ; that it hurts, puffs up, when love 
 edifies ; that the devils know more than any of us, while 
 their want of love, or their hellish malignity, makes them 
 devils ; that as by pride comes contention, so humility would 
 contribute more to peace (and to the discerning of truth too), 
 than the most fervent disceptation ; that there is no hope of 
 proselyting the world to my opinion or way ; that if I can- 
 not be quiet till I have made such and such of my mind, I 
 shall still be unquiet if others are not of it, i. e. always ; 
 that if some one's judgment must be a standard to the world, 
 there are thousands fitter for it tlian mine ; that they that 
 in their angry contests think to shame their adversary, do 
 commonly most of all shame themselves. 
 
 But to close all, I pray let us consider, we are, pro- 
 fessedly, going to heaven, that region of light, and life, and 
 purity, and love. It well, indeed, becomes them that are 
 
212 THE CARNALITY OP RELIGIOUS CONTENTION. 
 
 upon the way thither, modestly to inquire after truth. 
 Humble, serious, diligent endeavours to increase in divine 
 knowledge, are very suitable to our present state of dark- 
 ness and imperfection. The product of such inquiries we 
 shall carry to heaven with us, with whatsoever is most akin 
 thereto (besides their usefulness in the way thither.) We 
 shall carry truth and the knowledge of God to heaven 
 with us ; we shall carry purity thither, devotedness of soul 
 to God and our Redeemer, divine love and joy, if we 
 have their beginnings here, with whatsoever else of real 
 permanent excellency, that hath a settled, fixed seat and 
 place in our souls now ; and shall there have them in 
 perfection. But do we think we shall carry strife to 
 heaven ? Shall we carry anger to heaven ? envyings, 
 heart-burnings, animosities, enmities, hatred of our brethren 
 and fellow-Christians, shall we carry these to heaven 
 with us ? 
 
 Let us labour to divest ourselves, and strike off from our 
 spirits every thing that shall not go with us to heaven, or 
 is equally unsuitable to our end and way, that there may 
 be nothing to obstruct and hinder our abundant entrance 
 at length into the everlasting kingdom. 
 
A TWO-FOLD DISCOURSE. 
 
 Fl»8i— OF MAN'S ENMITY AGAINST GOD. 
 8B00ND1T- OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
OP 
 
 MAiX'S ENMITY AGAINST GOD. 
 
 "And i/ou, that voei-e sometime alienated and enemies in your miyid by wicked 
 works, yvt now hath he reconciled."— Co\. i. 21. 
 
 It is a groat and wonderful context, whereof these words 
 are a part, which the time will not allow me to look into ; 
 hut presently to fall on the consideration of the words 
 themselves, which briefly represent to us the wretched 
 and horrid state of men yet unconverted and not brought 
 home to God, and the happy state of those that are reduced 
 and brought home to him. The former, in those words, 
 " And you, that were sometime alienated and enemies in 
 your mind by wicked works." The latter, in these words, 
 " Yet now hath he reconciled." I shall apply my discourse 
 to the former part of the words, and thence observe — that 
 men in their unconverted state are alienated from God, and 
 enemies to him by their wicked works. This I shall en- 
 deavour, — 1. To explain, and shew you the meaning of 
 it ; — 2. To evince, and let you see the truth of it ; — 3. 
 Apply it. 
 
 1. For the meaning of it, 'tis evident that it is the uncon- 
 verted state of man that is here reflected upon and referred 
 unto. You, that were sometime alienated and enemies in 
 your mind by wicked works. They were so, before they 
 were turned to God ; he writes to those Colossians as to 
 converts, to them that were saints, and faithful brethren in 
 Christ (v. 2), to them that were now believers in Christ, 
 and lovers of the saints (v. 4), telling them, they sometime 
 had l)een enemies l)y wicked works. Before conversion, 
 they had (as is elsewhere said) their understandings dark- 
 ened, being alienated from the life of God ; walking as other 
 
216 OP man's enmity against go:6". 
 
 Gentiles walk, in the vanity of their mind, Ephes, iv. 18, 
 compared with the preceding verse. This is the deplor- 
 able condition of the unconverted world, they are alienated 
 from, and enemies to, God by wicked Avorks. We are to 
 consider what this cdienatiGn from God doth import. It 
 signifies estrangement, unacquaintance with God ; and that 
 without any inclination towards him, or disposition to seek 
 his acquaintance. The word is emphatical, it signifies 
 people of another country, you were like people of another 
 country. Of such a different language, manners, and 
 behaviour they that are converted are to you, and you to 
 them ; you are estranged to their speech, customs, and 
 ways. All that is of God was strange to you, men in 
 their unconverted state are strangers to God. Wicked men 
 do not understand the words of the gospel, John, viii. 43. 
 What relates to the kingdom of God, the unconverted man 
 dislikes. Job, xxi. 14. They say to God, Depart from 
 us, we desire not the knowledge of thy ways. Man, 
 who was originally made for the service of God, and com- 
 munion with him, is now so degenerated, that he is become 
 a mere stranger to him. The next word to be taken notice 
 of, is enemies, which may seem to add somewhat to the 
 former word alienated ; there is not only no inclination 
 towards God, but there is a disinclination ; not only no af- 
 fection, but a disaffection. The carnal mind is enmity 
 to God, and the effects of this enmity are obvious. This 
 alienation from God is voluntary, affected, and chosen : 
 men in their unconverted state, are not only strangers to 
 God, but enemies against God, and that in their minds. 
 A most fearful case, full of astonishment, that the very 
 mind of man, the offspring of God, the paternal mind, as 
 a heathen called him. that this most excellent part or power 
 belonging to the nature of man, should be poisoned with 
 malignity, and envenomed with enmity against the glorious, 
 ever-blessed God ! that the mind of man, his thinking 
 power, the fountain of thoughts should be set against God, 
 who gave him this power to think ! Yet into this reason 
 must every man's unacquaintance with God be resolved, 
 
or MAN S ENMITY AGAINST GOD. 217 
 
 they know not God, and converse not with him, only 
 because they have no mind to it. That noble faculty in 
 man, that resembles tlie nature of God, is turned off from 
 him, and set on vain things that cannot profit ; as also 
 upon wicked and impure things, that render them more 
 unlike to God, and disaffected to him. By wicked works, 
 which must have a double reference : 1. Former wicked 
 works, as done by them : 2. Future wicked works, as re- 
 solved on by them. 
 
 1. The former wicked works, which they have done, 
 have more and more habituated their souls unto a state of 
 distance from God. The longer they live, the longer they 
 sin ; and the longer they sin, the more they are confirmed 
 in their enmity against God. 
 
 2. Future wicked works, as resolved on to be done. 
 They purpose to live as they have done, and give them- 
 selves the same liberty in sin as before, and will not know 
 God, or be acquainted with him, lest they should be drawn 
 off from their resolved sinful course. For the knowledge 
 of God and a course of sin are inconsistent things, 1 Cor. 
 XV. 34. " Awake to righteousness, and sin not, for some 
 have not the knowledge of God." This is the condemna- 
 tion (John, iii. 19), that light is come into the world, but 
 men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are 
 evil. They hate the light, because they will not have their 
 course altered, they resolve to do as they have done, and 
 that light, which brings with it a tendency to the obeying 
 of God, they cannot endure. But then, as this alienation 
 of mind and enmity are against the light that reveals God, 
 they finally terminate on the blessed God himself : as God 
 is the term of reconciliation, so he is the term of this enmity 
 and alienation. Wicked men look on God with enmity of 
 mind, under several notions, 
 
 1. As he claims to be their Owner, when he claims a 
 principal propriety in them, when he insists on his right 
 in them as their Creator, as having made them out of 
 nothing. When God owns or claims them as their Lord, 
 that first signifies he is their Proprietor, or one to whom 
 
218 OF man's eis^mity against god. 
 
 they belong ; but they say they are their own. If we have 
 to do with God, we must quit claim to ourselves, and look 
 on God as our Owner ; but this is fixed in the hearts of 
 men, We will be our own ; we will not consent to the 
 claim which God makes to us. Our tongues are our own, 
 Psal. xii. 4. Wicked men might as well say the same 
 thing of their whole selves, our bodies, strength, time, parts, 
 &c,, are our own, and who is Lord over us ? 
 
 2. If you consider God under the notion of a Ruler, as 
 well as an Owner. Why should not God rule over and 
 govern his own ? But this, the spirit of man can by no 
 means comport withal, though 'tis but reasonable, that he 
 who gave men their beings, should give them laws ; and 
 that he who gave life, should also give the rule of life ; but 
 this man, in his degenerate state, will by no means admit of. 
 There are two things considerable in the will of God, which 
 the mind of man cannot comply withal. The sovereignty 
 and the holiness of it. 
 
 1. The sovereignty of God's will. We must look on 
 God's will as absolutely sovereign, man must look on God's 
 will to be above his will ; so as that man must cross his 
 own will, to comport with a higher will than his. But 
 this apostatized man will not do, and therefore he is at 
 enmity with God ; he will not submit to the will of God, 
 as superior to his will. And then, 
 
 2. There is the holiness of God's will. His law is a holy 
 law ; and the renewed man therefore loves it ; but because 
 'tis holy therefore the unregenerate man dislikes it. 
 
 3. Lastly/, God is considered under the notion of our end, 
 our last end, as he is to be glorified and enjoyed by us. 
 There is a disaffection to God in the hearts of unregenerate 
 men in this regard also. The spirit of man is opposite to 
 living to the glory of God, every one sets up for himself; 
 I will be my own end, it shall be the business of my whole 
 life to please myself. Therefore when God is represented 
 as our end, as in the 1 Cor. x. 31, Whether ye eat or drink, 
 or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God ; and as it 
 is in the 2 Cor. v. 15, No man is to live to himself, &c. — 
 
OF man's enmity against god. 219 
 
 The great design of our being delivered from the law (viz. 
 as a cursing, condemning law) is that we may live to 
 God (Gal. ii. 19), I am dead to the law, that I might live 
 to God ; this the unrenewed heart cannot comport with. 
 The last and great design of all our actions must terminate 
 on God ; now self is set up, as the great idol in opposition 
 to God, all the world over ; and the spirits of men grow, by 
 custom, more and more disaffected to God, in this respect. 
 Again, God would be owned by us for our best good. This 
 should be the sense of our soul towards him, so it was with 
 the Psalmist, Ps. Ixxiii. 25, Whom have I in heaven but 
 thee, &c., but says the unregenerate soul, the world is 
 better to me than God. And it is upon this account that 
 when overtures are made of changing this state, the unre- 
 generate mind opposes it. Thus have you this doctrine 
 explained and opened. I come now in the 
 
 M place, To evince the truth of this doctrine, and that 
 by two heads of arguments, — Partly from ourselves, and 
 partly from God. 
 
 1. From ourselves. 'Tis an alienation and enmity of 
 mind that keeps men off from God, and reconciliation with 
 him ; which will plainly appear, 
 
 1. If we consider that our minds are capable of knowing 
 God. Such a thing is the mind of man, which was origi • 
 nally made for such an exercise, as to be taken up, princi- 
 pally, with things relating to God. Our minds can appre- 
 hend what is meant by the nature of God, as a Being of 
 uncreated perfection, in whom all power, wisdom, and 
 goodness do meet ; who fills heaven and earth, and from 
 everlasting was God. Our minds tell us, that we have a 
 capacity thus to conceive of God ; 'tis in the capacity of 
 man's nature to mind God, as well as to mind vanity ; but 
 doth it not. And whence doth this proceed, but from 
 enmity, an alienation of the mind from God ? 
 
 2. This appears, in that men are wilfully ignorant of God, 
 and are destitute of the knowledge of him out of choice ; 
 ignorant, and are willing to be so. This speaks enmity and 
 alienation of mind more expressly and fully. That they 
 
220 OF man's enmity against god. 
 
 are capable of knowing God, and yet are ignorant of him, 
 leaves no other cause assignable ; but their desiring so to 
 be, plainly assigns this cause, Rom. i. 28, They liked not 
 to retain God in their knowledge. 'Tis not grateful to them, 
 Job, xxi. 14. AVe desire not the knowledge of thy ways. 
 Men are ignorant willingly of that God, who made the 
 world, and all things therein, 2 Pet. iii. 5. For this they 
 are willingly ignorant of, &c. They will not know God, 
 though his visible works shew his invisible power and 
 Godhead, Rom. i. 19, 20. Now this can signify nothing 
 but alienation, and enmity of mind. Men are willing and 
 industrious to know other things, and labour after the 
 knowledge of them ; but they decline the knowledge of God, 
 and his ways, being alienated fi-om God, tlirough the blind- 
 ness of their hearts, Eph. iv. 18. This heart-blindness is 
 chosen and voluntary blindness, signifies their having no 
 mind or will to things of that nature. But now the volun- 
 tariness of this ignorance of God, and the enmity that is 
 consequently in it, appears evidently in two sorts of per- 
 sons. 
 
 1. In many that are of the more knowing and inquisitive 
 sort, who do all they can to make themselves notional 
 atheists ; to blot or rase the notion of God out of their 
 minds. Of them I shal 1 say little here, they do their 
 utmost, but in vain ; it will stick as close to them as their 
 thinking power. But their attempt shews their enmity, for 
 they are content to admit the grossest absurdities into their 
 minds, rather than permit that notion to remain unmolested 
 there : rather imagine such a curious fi-ame of things, as 
 this world is, to have come by chance ; than that it had a 
 wise, just, holy, as well as powerful maker. They would 
 count it an absurdity, even unto madness, to think the 
 exquisite picture of a man or a tree to have happened by 
 chance ; and can allow themselves to be so absurd, as to 
 think a man himself or a tree to be casual productions. Is 
 not this the height of enmity '? 
 
 2. In the unthinking generality. Of whom, yet uncon- 
 verted out of the state of apostasy, 'tis said they are fools, 
 
OF man's enmity against god. 221 
 
 as is the usual language of Scripture concerning wicked or 
 unconverted men ; and that such fools, though they never 
 offer at saying in their minds, much less Avith their mouths, 
 yet they say in their hearts, no God ; i. e. not there is none, 
 for there is no is in the Hebrew text. The words may rather 
 go in the optative form than the indicative, that there 
 were none ! The notion is let alone, while it reaches not 
 their hearts ; if it do, they only wish it were otherwise. 
 This speaks their enmity the more, for the notion lays a 
 continual testimony against the bent of their hearts, and 
 constant practice, that while they own a God, they never 
 fear nor love him accordingly. And they grossly misre- 
 present him, sometimes as all made up of mercy without 
 justice or holiness ; and so think they need no reconciliation 
 to him ; he and they are well agreed already. Sometimes 
 think of him as merciless, and irreconcilable ; and there- 
 fore never look after being reconciled to him. 
 
 3. It appears hence, that men do seldom think of God, 
 when as a thought of God may be as soon thought as any 
 other, and would cost us as little. Why not as well on 
 God as upon any of those vanities about which they are 
 commonly employed ? 'Tis a wonderful thing to consider, 
 how man is capable of forming a thought ! how a thought 
 arises in our minds ! And how sad is it to consider, that 
 though God hath given to man a thinking power, yet he 
 will not think of him ! God hath given to man a mind that 
 can think, and think on him, as well as on any thing else. 
 My body cannot think, if my mind and spirit is gone ; 
 though God gave man the power of thought, yet men will 
 not use or employ their thoughts otherwise than about vain 
 or forbidden things. God forms the spirit of man within 
 him, hath put an immortal spirit into him, whence a spring 
 of thoughts might ascend heavenwards. When we have 
 thousands of objects to choose of, we think of any thing 
 rather than God ! and not only turn this way or that, 
 besides him, but tend continually downwards in opposition 
 to him. Yea, men cannot endure to be put in mind of God, 
 the serious mention of his name is distasteful. Whence can 
 
222 OF man's enmity against god. 
 
 this proceed, that a thought of God cast in, is thrown out, 
 as fire from one's hosom ? whence is it, but from the enmity 
 of mind that is in man against God 1 
 
 4. It further appears hence, that men are so little 
 concerned about the favour of God. Whomsoever we love, 
 we naturally value their love, but whether God be a fi-iend 
 or an enemy, it is all one to the unrenewed soul, if there be 
 no sensible effects of his displeasure. The men of this world 
 only value its favours, the favour of God they value not ; 
 whereas in his favour is life in the account of holy and 
 good men (Ps. xxx. 5), yea, they judge his loving- kindness 
 is better than life without it, Ps. Ixiii. 3. When men shall 
 go from day to day, without considering whether God hath 
 a favour for them or not ; whether they are accepted or 
 not, whether they have found grace in his eyes or not, &c. 
 What doth this declare, but an enmity of mind, and aliena- 
 tion from God 1 If men had true love for God, it could not 
 be, but they would greatly value his love. 
 
 5. That men do so little converse and walk with God, 
 doth speak a fixed alienation of mind, and enmity against 
 God. Walking with God includes knowing and minding 
 him ; but it adds all other motions of soul towards him, 
 together with continuance, and approving ourselves to him, 
 therein. Now agreement is required to walk with God 
 (Amos, iii. 3). Can two walk together unless they be 
 agreed 1 Hos. iii. 3. Men walk not with God, because they 
 are not come to an agreement with him ; God's agreement 
 with us, and ours with him. is that we may walk together. 
 If we walk not with God, it is because there is no agree- 
 ment ; and what doth that import, but an alienation of 
 mind from God ? Says God, I would not have you live 
 in the world at so great a distance from me, I would walk 
 with you and have you walk with me ; and for this end I 
 would come to an agreement with you. But sinners will 
 not come to any agreement with God, and thence it comes 
 to pass that they walk not with God ; they begin the day 
 without God, walk all the day long without God, lie down 
 at night without God, and the reason is because there are 
 
OF MAN S KNMITY AGAINST GOD. 223 
 
 no agreements, and that denotes enmity, especially consi- 
 derinfj, 
 
 6. That daily converse with God would cost us nothing. 
 To have any man's thoughts full of heaven, and full of holy 
 fear, and reverence of God, &c. (which is included in 
 walking with God), what inconvenience is in this, what 
 business will this hinder ? When a man goes about his 
 ordinary affairs, will it do any hurt to take God with him ? 
 No business will go on the worse for it, it will not detract 
 from the success of our affairs ; 1 Cor. vii. 24. Let every 
 man, wherein he is called, therein abide with God. Let 
 your state be what it will, there can be no business in this 
 world, but what yon may do with God, as well as without 
 God, and much better. 
 
 7. Which makes the matter yet plainer, how^ uncomfort- 
 ably do men live in this world, by reason of their distance 
 from God, and unacquaintedness with him ; Job, xxxv, 10. 
 But no one saith, Where is God my Maker, who giveth 
 songs in the night. They choose rather to groan under 
 their burdens alone, than to cry to God their Maker, as at 
 the 9th verse of that chapter. When men will endure the 
 greatest extremity, rather than apply themselves to God, 
 what doth this resolve into but enmity against God ? 
 
 8. That men do so universally disobey God, bespeaks 
 alienation and enmity of mind. As obedience proceeds 
 from love, so disobedience proceeds from enmity. And 
 for this I shall only instance in two great precepts, wherein 
 the mind and will of God is expressed which I mention, 
 and insist upon (though briefly) as things that concern 
 the constant and daily practice of every Christian, — 1. A 
 course of prayer to God, in secret ; 2. And having our con- 
 versation in heaven. How express are both of these pre- 
 cepts, in the same chapter ; the former, JMatt. vi. 6, the latter, 
 ver. 19, 20, 21. Now consider, whether our disobedience 
 to these two precepts do not discover great enmity in our 
 hearts against God. What, to refuse to pray, and pour out 
 our souls to him in secret ; to refuse placing our treasure 
 and our hearts in heaven ; what doth this signify, but 
 
224 OF man's enmity against god. 
 
 aversion, and a disaffected heart 1 Let us consider each of 
 them severally and apart by itself. We are a Christian 
 assembly, how should it startle us to be (any of us) con- 
 victed of enmity against God, under the Christian name, in 
 two so plain cases ? 
 
 1. For prayer, 'tis a charge laid upon all persons con- 
 sidered in their single and personal capacity, Matt, vi, 6. 
 But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and 
 when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which 
 is in secret. I fear that most of them, who bear the Chris- 
 tian name, carry the matter so, as if there were ito such 
 place in the Bible. When the mind and will of God is made 
 known to us by his Son, who came out of his bosom, that 
 he will be sought unto ; and that not only publicly but 
 secretly and daily ; that as we are taught by our Lord 
 himself, to pray for our daily bread, and the forgiveness of 
 our daily trespasses, we are also to pray in secret, to him 
 that sees in secret ; can such commands be constantly ne- 
 glected and disobeyed, and not signify the contrary bent of 
 our wall ; especially when we consider, that it is enjoined 
 us for our owti good ? It would be profane to say, What 
 profit is it to us to call upon the Almighty ? But it is most 
 justly to be said. What profit is it to the Almighty, that we 
 call upon him ? It is honourable to him, but very profit- 
 able to ourselves. If we know not how to pray in a corner, 
 confessing our sins, and supplicating for mercy, we cannot 
 but live miserable lives. When therefore this is not done, 
 whence is it, but from an enmity of mind ? To a friend we 
 can unbosom ourselves, not to an enemy. 
 
 I might also enlarge upon family prayer, but if closet 
 prayer were seriously minded, you that have families would 
 not dare to neglect prayer with them too. But if either be 
 performed with coldness and indifferency, it makes the 
 matter worse, or more plainly bad ; and shews it is not 
 love, or any lively affection, that puts you upon praying, 
 but a fr-ightened conscience only. And a miserably mis- 
 taken, deluded one, that makes you think the God you 
 pray to will be mocked or trifled with, or that he cannot 
 
OF man's enmity against god, 225 
 
 perceive whether your heart he with him, or against him. 
 And so instead of worshipping, or giving him honour in 
 that performance, you reproach and affront him ; and all 
 this while, how vastly doth the temper of your mind dis- 
 agree with the mind of God ! I would, saith the blessed 
 God, have a course of prayer run through the whole course 
 of your lives ; and all this that your hearts may be lifted 
 up from earth to heaven, that your hearts may be iu 
 heaven every day, according to Matt. vi. 19, " Lay not up 
 for yourselves treasm-es on earth ; but treasures in heaven, 
 »S:c. Where your treasure is, there will your hearts be 
 also." And so we are led to the other precept mentioned 
 before. 
 
 2. As to a heavenly conversation, God would not have 
 reasonable creatures, who have intelligent spirits about 
 them, to grovel and crawl like womis in the dust of this 
 lower world, as if they had no nobler sort of objects to con- 
 verse with than the things of this earth ; nothing fitter for 
 the contemplation, exercise, and enjoyment of an immortal 
 mind. The saints are finally designed for an inheritance 
 in light (Col. i. 12), and their thoughts and affections ought 
 to be there beforehand, that they may become meet for 
 that inheritance. Will it do a man any harm to have fre- 
 quent forethoughts of the everlasting joy, purity, and bliss 
 of the heavenly state 1 How joyous and pleasant must it 
 be ! And why are we called Christians, if he, who is our 
 Lord and Teacher, revealing his mind to us, and expressly 
 charging us to seek first the kingdom of God, to set our affec- 
 tions on the things above, &c., shall not be regarded ? Wliy 
 is not heaven every day in our thoughts, why will we lose 
 the pleasure of a heavenly life, and exchange it for earthly 
 care and trouble, or vanity, at the best ? Why is it ? No 
 other reason can be given, but only an alienation of our 
 minds from God. 
 
 9. Another argument to prove this alienation and en- 
 mity against God, is the unsuccessfulness of the gospel ; 
 which can be resolvable into nothing else, but such an 
 enmity. The design of the gospel is to bring us into a 
 
226 OF man's enmity against god. 
 
 union with the Son of God, and to believe on him whom 
 the Father hath sent. Christ seeks to gather in souls to 
 God, but they will not be gathered. This is matter of fear- 
 ful consideration, that when God is calling after men, by his 
 own Son, that there be so few^ that will come to him. How 
 few are there that say. Give me Christ, or I am lost ? none 
 can reconcile me to God, but Christ ? You are daily be- 
 sought, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled (2 Cor. v. 20), 
 but in vain ! What doth this signify, but obstinate, invin- 
 cible enmity ? 
 
 2. Another head of arguments may be taken from several 
 considerations, that we may have of God in this matter ; 
 whence it will appear, that nothing but enmity, on our 
 parts, keeps us at that distance from God, as we generally 
 are at. And consider to that pui-pose, 
 
 1. That God is the God of all grace, the fountain of good- 
 ness, the element of love. Why are men at that distance 
 from him, who is goodness, and grace, and love itself ? The 
 reason is not on God's part, 1 John, iv. 16. " God is love, 
 and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God in 
 him." What can our so great distance from this God signify, 
 fi-om the most perfect, the most excellent goodness, but the 
 most horrid kind, and the highest pitch of enmity ? Did 
 men apprehend this, what fi-ightful monsters would they 
 appear to themselves ? This is not only a plain, but a ter- 
 rible declaration of a most unaccountable enmity on our 
 part. 
 
 2. God is still pleased to continue our race on earth, a 
 succession of men in this world, from age to age, made after 
 his own image, with minds and spirits that are intelligent 
 and immortal ; which declares a strong propension in God 
 towards such a sort of creatures, the inhabitants of this 
 lower world, though degenerated, and fallen from him. 
 Notwithstanding all their neglect of him, in former ages, 
 yet new generations of men still spring up, capable of 
 knowing and serving him, Pro v. viii. 31. In the foi-eseen 
 height of man's enmity, this was the steady bent of his 
 mind tow^ards them, to rejoice in the habitable parts of this 
 
OF MAN S ENMITY AGAINST GOD. 227 
 
 earth, and to have his delights with the sons of men. Thus 
 also in tlie 2 Chron. vi. 18, do we find Solomon in a rap- 
 ture of admiration on this account : " But will God in very 
 deed dwell with men on earth," &c. And the Psalmist, Ps. 
 Ixviii. 18. That " gifts are given to the rehellious (the most 
 insolent of enemies), that the Lord God might dwell among 
 them." How admirable and unconceivable a wonder is this ! 
 " The heaven of heavens cannot contain him, and will he 
 yet dwell with men on earth !" And we yet find, notwith- 
 standing God's great condescension, that there is still a 
 distance ; whence can this be, but from man's aversion and 
 enmity of mind against God ? Thus are men still requiting 
 God evil for his goodness ; God will dwell with men on 
 earth, but men will not dwell with him, nor admit of his 
 dwelling with them ; they say to him, "Depart fi-om us," 
 Job, xxi. 14. 'Tis thus, from age to age, and generation to 
 generation, which shews God's goodness on his part, and 
 the enmity on man's part. See to this purpose, Ps. xiv. 
 and liii. the beginning of each. 
 
 3. Consider the forbearance of God towards you, while 
 you are continually at his mercy. "With what patience 
 doth he spare you, though your own hearts must tell you 
 that you are offending creatures, and whom he can destroy 
 in a moment ! He spares you, that neglect him. He is 
 not willing that you should perish, but come to the know- 
 ledge of the truth, that you may be saved ; by which he 
 calls and leads you to repentance, Rom. ii. 4. On God's 
 part, here is a kind intention ; but on man's part, nothing 
 but persevering enmity. 
 
 4. Consider God's large and wonderful bounty towards 
 the children of men in this world, and the design of it, 
 Acts, xvii. 25, 26. " He giveth to all'life, and breath, and all 
 things, that they might seek after him," Ps. Ixviii. 19. " He 
 daily loadeth us with his benefits. He gives us all things 
 richly to enjoy," Acts, xiv. 17. "God leaves not himself 
 without witness, that he doth men good. He gives men rain 
 from heaven," when they want it ; and, when unsenson- 
 able, he withholds it. 'Tis a great thing to understand the 
 
228 OF man's enmity against god. 
 
 loving-kindness of the Lord (Ps. cvii. 42), his wonderful 
 works towards the children of men ; to understand our 
 mercies and comforts, and what their meaning and design 
 is. By mercies to our outward man, God designs to draw 
 our hearts and minds to himself. Mercies are bestowed 
 on them that have the power of thought, to consider the 
 end of all God's mercies ; 'tis bespeaking, and seeking to 
 win our hearts to himself, Hos. xi. 4. 'Tis drawing us with 
 those cords of a man, with bands of love ; which plainly 
 shews what the case requires, that the minds and hearts of 
 men are very averse, and alienated from him, and therefore 
 need such drawing. 
 
 5. And that which is more than all the rest, is God's 
 sending his Son into the world, to procure terms of peace 
 for us, and then to treat with us thereupon ; and that in 
 him he is reconciling the world to himself, 2 Cor. v. 19. 
 Doth not reconciliation suppose enmity ? as here, and in 
 the text, " You that were enemies in your minds — yet hath 
 he reconciled." As we have noted that on our parts our 
 withstanding, and too commonly fi-ustrating, its overtures, 
 speaks enmity and obstinacy therein ; so on his part those 
 overtures themselves speak it too. Here is the greatest 
 kindness and good-will on God's part, that can be con- 
 ceived ; but it presupposes, what we are evincing, ill-will in 
 us. " Christ came to seek and save that which was lost." 
 What a lost state was our state ! what to be engaged in a 
 war against him that made us ! " "Woe to him that strives 
 with his Maker," Isa. xlv. 9. Fallen man is little appre- 
 hensive of it now, if we continue unreconciled to the last, 
 at death it will be understood what a lost state we are in. 
 Upon this account it will then appear. But this was our 
 state before, when it appeared not ; in this state Christ pitied 
 us, when we had no pity for ourselves. Christ came not 
 into the world to save men only at the hour of their death, 
 from hell ; but to raise up to himself a willing people, that 
 may serve and glorify God, in their life on earth. He is, 
 for this purpose, intent on this reconciling design ; and 
 how earnest, how alluring were his solicitations, in the 
 
OF man's enmity against god. 229 
 
 days of his flesh ! " Come to me all ye that are weary — He 
 that Cometh to me, I will in nowise cast out." How pathe- 
 tical his lamentations for the iinreconcilable ! " that thou 
 hadst known the things belonging to thy peace" — And his 
 blood was shed at last, as the blood of propitiation, of a 
 reconciling sacrifice, to reconcile God's justice to us ; and 
 thereupon also, as in this context. " Having made peace by 
 the blood of his cross (ver. 20), to vanquish our enmity, to 
 reconcile us who were enemies in our minds" — ver, 21, 22. 
 
 6. Consider Christ sending, and continuing, from age to 
 age, the gospel in the world ; the design whereof may be 
 understood by the manifest import and substance of it, 
 and by the titles given to it, as it reveals Christ, the Medi- 
 ator, the Peace-maker, in his person, nature, offices, acts, 
 sutFerings, and performances. As it contains the great 
 commands of repentance towards God, and faith in our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, with the promises of pardon, and eternal 
 life, with whatsoever is requisite to our present good state 
 God-ward, and our final blessedness in him, as also the 
 various enforcements of such precepts, and confirmations of 
 such promises, with copious explications of the one and the 
 other. And as it is called, the ministry of reconciliation, 
 2 Cor. V. 18. The word wherein peace is preached, by 
 Jesus Christ, Acts, x. 36. The gospel of peace, and of glad 
 tidings (Rom. x. 15), as that very word gospel signifies, 
 
 This gospel was, in its clearer manifestation, at the ful- 
 ness of time, introduced with great magnificence and 
 solemnity into the world, as the law had ])een, by the 
 ministry of angels. When the Sun of righteousness, the 
 light of the world, was arising, and dawning upon it ; then 
 did a multitude of the heavenly host appear, praising God, 
 and saying. Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, 
 and good-will towards men, Luke, ii. 13, 14. But this 
 gospel is not a more express declaration of God's good- 
 will towards men, than their deportment under it, their 
 continuing to live as without God in the world, is of their 
 ill-will, disaffection, and enmity against God. 
 
 7. And, lastly, the strivings of the Spirit, in the hearts of 
 
230 or MAN S ENMITY AGAINST GOD. 
 
 ministers preaching the gospel, and with the souls of men, 
 to whom it is preached, shew that there is a mighty enmity 
 to be overcome. 
 
 1. God's giving forth his Spirit to ministers, enabling 
 them to strive with sinners, to bring them to Christ 
 according to the working of that power, which works in 
 them mightily, Colos. i. ult. What need of such striving, 
 but that there is a great enmity in the minds of people to 
 be conquered and overcome ? Sometimes we read of minis- 
 ters of the gospel weeping over souls, who, for their too 
 intent minding of earthly things, are called enemies to the 
 cross of Christ, Phil. iii. 18. Sometimes they are ready to 
 breathe out their own souls towards them, among whom 
 they labour, 1 Thess. ii. 8. Sometimes represented as tra- 
 vailing in birth, with them that are committed to their 
 charge. Gal. iv. 19. There are ministers, whose hearts are 
 in pangs and agonies for the souls of sinners, when the 
 things of God are too apparently neglected, and not regarded 
 by them ; and when they see destruction from the Almighty 
 is not a terror to them ; and while they visibly take the 
 way that takes hold of hell, and leads down to the chambers 
 of death. They would, if possible, save them with fear, 
 and pluck them as firebrands out of the fire ; the fire of 
 their own lusts, and fervent enmity against God, and godli- 
 ness, and save them fi-om his flaming wrath. Is all this 
 unnecessary ? and what makes it necessary but that there 
 is a counter-striving, an enmity working in the hearts of 
 men, against the Spirit's striving in the ministry, to be 
 overcome ? 
 
 2. The Spirit also strives immediately with the souls of 
 sinners, and pleads with them ; sometimes as a Spirit of 
 conviction, illumination, fear, and dread ; sometimes as a 
 Spirit of grace, wooing, and beseeching ; and when his 
 motions are not complied with, there are complaints of 
 men's grieving, vexing, quenching, resisting the Spirit, 
 Acts, vii. 51. Which resistance implies continual striving. 
 No striving but doth suppose an obstruction, and difficulty 
 to be striven withal ; there could be no resisting, if there 
 
OF MAx's ENMITY AGAINST GOD. 231 
 
 were not counter-striving ; and hereby despite is done to 
 the Spirit of grace. fearful aggravation ! that such a 
 Spirit is striven against ! 'Tis the Spirit of grace, love, and 
 goodness, the Spirit of all kindness, sweetness, and benignity, 
 which a wicked man doth despite unto, Heb. x. 29. How 
 vile and horrid a thing, to requite grace, love, and sweet- 
 ness with spite ? As if the sinner should say. Thou wouldst 
 turn nie to God, but 1 will not be turned ! The blessed 
 God says, " Turn at my reproof, I will pour out my Spirit 
 unto you," Prov. i. 23. There are preventive insinuations, 
 upon which, if we essay to turn, plentiful effusions of the 
 Spirit may be hoped to ensue ; for he is the Spirit of grace. 
 When we draw back, and resist or slight those foregoing 
 good motions of that holy Spirit ; this is despiting him. 
 And doth not this import enmity, in a high degree ? That 
 the Spirit needs strive so much, that it may be overcome, 
 as with some, at his own pleasure, he doth ; with others, 
 in just displeasure, he strives no more, and so it is never 
 overcome. 
 
 We come now to the application, wherein the subject 
 would admit and require a very abundant enlargement, if 
 we were not within necessary limits. Two things I shall 
 take notice of, as very necessary to be remarked, and most 
 amazingly strange and wonderful, by way of introduction 
 to some further use. 
 
 1. That ever the spirit of man, a reasonable, intelligent 
 being, God's own offspring, and whereto he is not only a 
 Maker but a Parent, styled the Father of spirits, should be 
 degenerated into so horrid, so unnatural a monster ! What ! 
 to be a hater of God ; the most excellent and all-compre- 
 hending good ! and thy own Father ! " Hear, heavens — 
 and earth, saith the Lord, I have nourished, and brought 
 up children, and they have rebelled against me," Isa. i. 2. 
 " Be astonished, ye heavens, at this ! and be horribly 
 afraid ; be ye very desolate !" As if all the blessed inha- 
 bitants of that upper world should rather forsake their 
 glorious mansions, leave heaven empty, and run back into 
 their original nothing, than endure such a sight ! An 
 
232 OF man's enmity against god. 
 
 intelligent spirit, hating God, is the most frightful prodigy 
 in universal nature ! If all men's limbs were distorted, 
 and their whole outer man transformed into the most 
 hideous shapes, 'twere a trifle, in comparison with this 
 deformity of thy soul. 
 
 2. That it should be thus, and they never regret, nor 
 perceive it ! What self-loathing creatures would men be 
 could they see themselves I so as never to endure them- 
 selves, while they find they do not love God ; but men are 
 generally well-pleased with themselves for all this. Though 
 the case is so plain, they will not see it ; when all the men- 
 tioned indications shew it, they never charge or suspect 
 themselves of such a thing as this enmity against God. 
 God charges them, and doth he not know them ? The 
 pagan world, they are God-haters (Rom. i. 30), even with 
 a hellish hatred, as the word there signifies. They that 
 profess his name, are apt to admit this true of the Gentiles : 
 but do we think our Lord Jesus did injuriously accuse the 
 Jews too, that they had " both seen and hated him and his 
 Father ?" John, xv. 24. How remote was it from Jews, 
 who boasted themselves God's peculiar people, to think 
 themselves haters of God ! And what were they, of whom 
 he says by the prophet, " My soul loathed them, and their 
 soul abhorred me" (which is presupposed), Zech. xi. 8, 
 and most justly ; for can there be a more loath something 
 than to abhor goodness itself 1 What ! the most perfect 
 benignity. And those Cretians had received the Christian 
 faith, whom the apostle exhorts Titus to rebuke sharply, 
 that they might be sound in it ; and of whom he says, 
 that " professing to know God, in works they denied him, 
 being abominable," Tit. i. 16. Hence is our labour lost, 
 in beseeching men to be reconciled to God, while they 
 own no enmity. Since this matter is so evident, that 
 this is the temper of the unconverted world God-ward, 
 that they are " alienated from him, and enemies in 
 their minds towards him, by wicked works ;" it is then 
 beyond all expression strange, that they never observe 
 it in themselves (as the toad is not offended at its own 
 poisonous nature), and are hereupon apt to think that God 
 
OF man's enmity against god. 233 
 
 observes it not, nor is displeased with them for it. It is strange 
 they should not observe it in themselves, upon so manifold 
 evidence. ^ Do but recount with yourselves, and run over the 
 several heads of evidence that have been given. Can you 
 deny you have minds capable of knowing God ? Cannot 
 you conceive of wisdom, power, goodness, truth, justice, 
 holiness, and that these may be, either more manifest, or 
 in more excellent degrees, even among creatures, in some 
 creatures more than i-n others ; but that being, in which 
 they are in the highest and most absolute perfection, must 
 be of God ? Can you deny that you have lived in gi-eat 
 ignorance of God much of your time ? that your ignorance 
 was voluntary, having such means of knowing him, as you 
 have had ? that you have usually been thoughtless and 
 unmindful of him, in 3'our ordinary course ? that the 
 thoughts of him have been ungrateful, and very little 
 welcome, or pleasant to you 1 that you have had little con- 
 verse with him, little trust, reverence, delight, or expectation, 
 placed on him, as the object ? that you have not been 
 wont to concern him in your affairs, to consult him, to 
 desire his concurrence ? that you have not thought of 
 approving yourself to him, in your designs and actions, but 
 lived as without him in the world ? That 3'ou have not 
 designed the pleasing or obeying of him in the course of 
 your conversation ? that the gospel, under which you 
 have lived, hath had little effect upon you, to alter the 
 temper of your spirits towards him ? That if his Spirit hath 
 sometimes awakened you, raised some fear, or some desires 
 now and then in your souls, you have suppressed, and 
 stifled, and striven against such motions 1 Do not these 
 things, together, discover an enmity against God, and the 
 ways of God 1 And is it not strange you cannot see this, 
 and perceive a disaffection to God, by all this, in yourselves ? 
 What is so near a man as himself ? Have you not in you 
 a reflecting power ? " Know ye not your ownselves ?" as the 
 apostle speaks, 2 Cor. xiii. 5. Yea, generally, men never 
 find fault with themselves, upon any such account ; and 
 consequently, think themselvcp, in such respects, very 
 
234 OF MAN S ENMITY AGAINST GOD. 
 
 innocent in the sight of God, and think he finds no fault 
 with them. Now these two things being premised, will 
 make way for the following uses. We infer therefore, 
 
 1. That whereas it so evidently appears, that men are at 
 enmity with God, it cannot but be consequent, that God 
 is not well pleased with them. No one is well pleased to 
 have another hate him. God discerns that, in the inward 
 temper of men's minds, wherewith he is not well pleased ; 
 viz. this alienation of mind from him, this wicked enmity, 
 that is so generally found in them. They are wont to 
 make light of secret, internal sin ; the ill posture of their 
 minds they think a harmless, innocent thing. But this he 
 remonstrates against, takes notice of with dislike and 
 displeasure ; and is counterworking this spirit of enmity, 
 not only by his word, but by his Spirit of love, and power. 
 Though he doth not testify his displeasure by flames and 
 thunderbolts ; yet he observes, and approves not the course 
 and current of their thoughts and affections : though Hfe 
 permit them, sometimes without sensible rebuke, to run 
 on long in their contempt of him ; yet he declares it to be 
 wickedness : The wicked have not God in all their thoughts, 
 Psalm X. 4. He expostulates about it, Wherefore do the 
 wicked contemn God, v. 13, threatens them with hell for 
 their forgetting him, Ps. ix. 17, yet sinners are apt to con- 
 clude, that God doth not see, or disallow au}^ thing of that 
 kind, Ps. xciv. 7. How unapt are they to admit any con- 
 viction of heart-wickedness ! though 'tis more than inti- 
 mated to be destructive, Jer. iv. 14. Wash thine heart from 
 wickedness, that thou mayst be saved : q. d. thou art lost if 
 thy heart be not purged. Yea, when it is so plain in itself, 
 that enmity against God, which hath its seat in the heart, 
 makes a man's soul a very hell, yet they seem to think 
 themselves very innocent creatures, when they are as much 
 devilized, as a mind, dwelling in flesh, can be ! This is the 
 common practical error and mistake men lie under, that 
 they think God takes notice of no evil in them, but what, 
 other men can observe, and reproach them foi. But he 
 knows the inward bent and inclination of their minds and 
 
OF man's enmity against god. 235 
 
 spirits ; why else is he called the heart-searching God ? and 
 knows that this is the principal and most horrid wicked- 
 ness that is to be found among the children of men, an 
 alienated mind from God, and the root of all the rest. The 
 fountain of wickedness is within a man. Simon Magus's 
 wickedness lay in his thought ; it is said to him, " Repent 
 of this thy wickedness, and pray the thought of thy heart 
 may be forgiven thee," Acts, viii. 22. And when the pro- 
 phet exhorts (as before) Jer. iv. 14, to wash the heart from 
 wickedness, he adds, " H*>w long shall vain thoughts lodge 
 within thee ?" And our Saviour tells us, " Out of the heart, 
 first, proceed evil thoughts, and then all the other wicked- 
 nesses after mentioned ; murders, adulteries," &c. Matt. xv. 
 19. And that enmity and alienation of mind, that turns 
 off the whole current of a man's thoughts from God, is the 
 original evil ; and, by consequence, lets them loose to every 
 thing else that offends him, and ruins thejnselves. Yet 
 when their very hearts are such a hell of wickedness (as 
 what is more hellish than enmity against God), they are 
 notwithstanding wont to say, they have good hearts. 
 
 2. Hence see the absolute necessity of regeneration. A 
 doctrine, at which most men do wonder, which our Saviour 
 intimates, when he says, John, iii. 7, Marvel not at it, viz. 
 that I said you must be bom again. But who may not 
 now apprehend a necessity of being regenerate ? what will 
 become of thee, if thou diest witli such a disaffected mind 
 God-ward ? Do but suppose your soul going out of the 
 body, in this temper, full of disaffection towards the ever- 
 blessed God, before whose bright glory and flaming majesty 
 (to thee a consuming fire) thou must now appear ; tliough 
 most unwilling, and as full of horror and amazing dread ! 
 How will thine heart then meditate terror ! and say within 
 thee, " This is the God I could never love ! whom I would 
 never know ! to whom I was always a willing stranger !" 
 whose admirable grace never allured, or won my lieart ! 
 who, in a day of grace, that is now over with me, offered 
 me free pardon, and reconciliation ; but I was never at 
 leisure to regard it. The love of this world, which I might 
 
236 OP man's enmity against god. 
 
 have known to be enmity against God, had otherwise 
 engaged me. It hath been the constant language of my 
 heart to him, " Depart from me, I desire not tlie knowledge 
 of thy Avays ;" I must now (iear from him that just and 
 terrible voice, even by the mouth of the only Redeemer and 
 Saviour of sinners, '•' Depart from me, I know thee not." 
 And into how horrid society must I now go ! The things 
 that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, more glorious things 
 than ever entered into the heart, are all prepared for lovers 
 of God. And for whom can everlasting lire be prepared, 
 but for the devil and his angels, and such other accursed 
 God-haters, as I have been ? Matt. xxv. 41 . Recollect 
 yourselves, consider the present posture and temper of 
 your souls, and what your way and course is. You care 
 not to come nigh to God now, but love to live at a distance 
 from him, through enmity against him, from whence 
 proceeds your departing from him, and saying to him. 
 Depart from us. But another day, you will have enough 
 of departing from God ; a wicked man's life is nothing else 
 but a continual forsaking of God, or departing from him, 
 I appeal to your own hearts, concerning the justice of that 
 mentioned repartee : They say now to God, " Depart from 
 us," Job, xxi. 14, and God will then say to them, " Depart 
 from me," Matt. xxv. 41. That man's soul must thus perish, 
 wlio lives and dies at enmity with God. Regeneration slays 
 this enmity, and implants in the soul divine love. There- 
 fore we must be regenerate, or we cannot enter into the 
 kingdom of God, John, iii. 3, 5. A man must have a new 
 heart and a new spirit created in him, in which heart and 
 spirit the love of God is the reigning principle. And there- 
 fore I repeat to you, The things which eye hath not seen — 
 and a crown of life are prepared, and promised to them that 
 love him, 1 Cor. ii. 9 ; James, i. 12. You may yourselves 
 collect the rest. 
 
 3. Hence take notice of the seat and subject of this rege- 
 neration and change. It is the mind of man ; for you are 
 enemies in your minds by wicked works. We are to be 
 renewed, in the spirit of our minds (Ephes. iv. 23), to be 
 
OF man's enmity against god. 237 
 
 transformed by the renewing of our minds, &c. Rom. 
 xii. 2. You that have not considered what regeneration is, 
 I tell you, 'tis to have your minds altered and changed ; 
 that whereas you did not mind God or Christ, your minds 
 being changed, you savour and delight in the things of 
 God, Rom. viii, 5, 7. They that are after the flesh, savour 
 the things of the flesh. The carnal mind is enmity against 
 God. It is the mind, therefore, not as speculative merely, 
 but as practical, and active, that must be renewed. In- 
 quire, therefore, u hat change do you And in your minds ? 
 Are you in mind and spirit more holy, spiritual, and seri- 
 ous ? And are your minds more delightfully taken up 
 with the things of God, than formerly 1 Till your minds 
 are thus changed, they cannot be towards God ; but will be 
 perpetually full of enmity against God. You will only 
 mind earthly things (Phil, iii, 19, 20), with the neglect of 
 God, and heaven, and heavenly things. If ever the gospel 
 doth us good, it must be by the change of our minds. 
 
 4. And in the last place, hence understand the absolute 
 necessity of reconciliation with God ; because you have 
 been alienated and enemies against him by wicked works. 
 Regeneration cures in part your enmity, but makes no 
 atonement for your guilt, in having been enemies ; for this 
 you need a reconciler, that could satisfy for you. What 
 will l)ecome of the man that is not reconciled to God 1 If 
 you be God's enemy, can he be your friend 1 And if God 
 be your enemy, lie is the most terrible enemy. How can 
 we lie down in peace, in an unreconciled state ] or without 
 knowing whether we are reconciled or not 1 Let not the 
 sun go down this day, and leave you at enmity with God. 
 If you have fallen out with a man, the sun is not to go 
 down on your wrath ; and is your enmity against God a 
 j lister or more tolerable thing ? let not the sun go down 
 before you have made your peace. And for your encour- 
 agement, consider that it is the office of the Son of God to 
 reconcile you to him. He is the reconciler, the peace- 
 maker, the maker up of breaches between God and man. 
 He is, if you resist not, ready, by his Spirit, to remove the 
 
238 OF MAN S ENMITY AGAINST GOP. 
 
 enmity tliat lies in your minds against God ; and by his 
 blood, he causes divine justice to be at peace with you. 
 If you find the former effect, tliat assures you of the latter. 
 Bless God that he hath provided, and given you notice of 
 such a reconciler, 2 Cor. v. 19. " God was in Christ recon- 
 ciling the world to himself." Bless God that he hath sent 
 and settled one among you, on this errand, to beseech you 
 to be reconciled to God, ver. 20. Blessed is the man whose 
 iniquities are forgiven ; and blessed is the man who can 
 say, I was once an enemy, but now am I reconciled ; for- 
 merly I saw no need of Christ, but now I cannot live with- 
 out him. How fearful a thing will it be to die unrecon- 
 ciled to God, under a gospel of reconciliation ! while the 
 voice of the gospel of grace is calling upon you, Return 
 and live ; Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die ? beware of 
 dying unreconciled, under such a gospel. When you return 
 hence, retire into a corner, and consider what a wicked 
 enmity of mind you have had against God and Christ ; and 
 pray that you may be renewed, in the spirit of your mind, 
 Eph. iv. 23. Let a holy resolution be taken up at last 
 (after many neglects), as was by the poor distressed pro- 
 digal, after he had long lived a wandering life (Luke, xv. 
 18 ; and onward), I will arise and go to my Father, &c., 
 and you will find God a merciful Father, ready to receive 
 you, and with joy. Oh the joyful meeting between a re- 
 turning soul and a sin-pardoning God ! When once your 
 strangeness and your enmity are overcome, and you are 
 come into a state of amity and friendship with God ; then 
 will the rest of your time be pleasantly spent, in a holy 
 humble walking with God, under the conduct of grace, till 
 you come eternally to enjoy him in glory. 
 
RECONCILIATION 
 
 BETWEEN GOD AND MAM. 
 
 And you that were sometime alienated cmd enemies in your mind by udcited 
 works, yet now hath he reconciled, in tfie body of his flesh, through death, 
 4-c.— Col. i. 21, 22. 
 
 We have, from the former words of this text, shewn the 
 fearful, horrid state of unconverted sinners ; that as such 
 they are alienated and enemies in their mind, by wicked 
 works, and come now to shew, from the words that follow, 
 the blessed state of the converted. You now hath he 
 reconciled, &c. Here is instance given of the happiest 
 change that ever was made in the case of sinful wretched 
 creatures ; and far above all our expectations, if we had not 
 been told, that as far as the heavens are above the earth, 
 so far, in acts of mercy, are God's ways above our ways, 
 and his thoughts above our thoughts, Isa. Iv. 9. Other- 
 wise, when we hear of a sort of creatures that were fallen 
 fi'om God, and gone into rebellion against him, that were 
 alienated and enemies to him in their minds by wicked 
 works ; one would be in suspense, and say, Well, and what 
 became of the business ? how did it issue ? what was the 
 event I and would expect to hear, why fire came down 
 from heaven upon them, and consumed them in a moment ; 
 or the earth opened, and swallowed them up quick. Yea, 
 and if the matter were so reported to us, if we did hear fire 
 and brimstone, flames and thunderbolts, immediately came 
 down upon thera, and destroyed them in a moment ; who 
 would not say, So I thouglit, who could expect otherwise ? 
 But that it should be said, such as were alienated from 
 
.''240 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 God, and his very enemies in their mind, by wicked works, 
 those hath his own Son reconciled ! into what a transport 
 of wonder and praises wouki this cast any considering 
 mind ! with what amazement wonld it make us cry out, 
 what hath God wrought, what wonders can the power 
 of divine grace bring about ! How unexpected, how sur- 
 prising a thing is this ! Especially when we also consider 
 how this was brought to pass, the Son of God effected it 
 in the body of his own flesh, through death. lie died for 
 it ! rather than such impure venomous worms, and that 
 were as weak and defenceless as they were vile and wicked, 
 should at last suffer the dreadful consequences of so des- 
 perate and unequal a war against the Almighty ; which 
 could not be other than their own ruin and eternal death ; 
 he chose himself to die for them. This is the strange 
 amazing subject we have to consider ; and we cannot but 
 confess and consider it as a strange thing, if we were only 
 told it as that which had fallen out, in some other country, 
 in any remote part of the world, or in some other world. 
 But when we understand, as for the former part, this is the 
 common case of men on earth, and therefore that it was 
 our own case, to have been alienated from God and ene- 
 mies to him in our minds by wicked works ; and as to the 
 latter part, that to us the proposal and offer is made of 
 "being reconciled, in this strange way I in what agonies, in 
 what consternation of spirit should we be, when we can 
 with greatest certainty say the former, if we cannot say 
 the latter ! And if we can, in what a transport I in what 
 raptures of admiratit)n, joy, and praise, should we say it ! 
 Any of us who hath heard, or now reads these words, even 
 me who was alienated, atid an enemy in my mind, by 
 wicked works, "yet me now hath he reconciled I Can you 
 say so ? how should your heart leap, and spring within 
 you, at the reciting of these words ! And if you cannot as 
 yet say this, with particular application, and it does not 
 therefore raise a present joy, yet it may beget hope in you ; 
 for think with yourself, if with some the matter hath been 
 brought to this blessed issue, why may it not with me ? 
 
OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN OOD AND MAN. 24} 
 
 and upon the one account, or the other, now set yourself 
 seriously to consider these latter words. And that you 
 may do so with the more advantage, take distinct notice of 
 these two things, that are to be severally treated of, — 1. Of 
 this blessed work itself, brought about by your merciful and 
 glorious Redeemer : reconciliation \A-ith God. " You hath 
 he reconciled." — 2. The wonderful way wherein he hath 
 effected it : " In the body of his Hesh, through death." 
 
 1, Consider this reconciliation itself. Which that we may 
 do with just advantage, both to the truth and ourselves, 
 we must take heed of too much narrowing so important a 
 subject ; but take it in its due extent and compass, as 
 comprehending all that truly belongs to it ; and so it must 
 be understood to be mutual between God and us ; and to 
 include both our reconciliation to him, and his reconcilia- 
 tion to us. Thus the proper import of the word, the scope 
 of the apostle's present discourse, and the nature of the 
 thing, lead us to understand it. The word being used 
 when two parties have been at variance, not only signifies 
 the laying down of enmity on the one side, but to be 
 received into grace and favour on the other ; as might be 
 shewn of the original words, that are wont to be thus 
 rendered, if it were needful, or at this time fit. But it 
 sufficiently appears, in the common use of this way of 
 speaking among ourselves. And if we consider the scope 
 of the apostle's discourse, nothing can be more agreeable 
 to it ; which is manifestly to exalt and magnify Christ, 
 first, as Creator, affirming that all things visible and 
 invisible were made by him, and for him, as ver. 16. And 
 then afterwards, there having been a rupture and breach 
 in the creation, by the apostasy and revolt of some crea- 
 tures ; others, also, being in an uncertain and mutable 
 state, liable to a like failure and defection, he is further 
 magnified, as the Reconciler of such as were thought fit to 
 be restored, and the Establisher of such as stood, ver 17. 
 Now the representation of his performance, as a Reconciler, 
 had been very imperfect, if he had designed therein only 
 to signify a reconeiliation, effected by liim on one side, 
 
242 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 leaving the other unreconciled. And though it be true, ^ 
 that taking this reconciliation, iir* reference to the imme- 
 diately foregoing words of this verse, " you that were ene- 
 mies," might seem to limit it to that one sense, as if it 
 meant only reconciliation on our part, consisting in the 
 laying down of our enmity ; yet the following words, that 
 shew how this reconciliation is brought about " in the body 
 of his flesh through death," signify as much for the extend- 
 ing of it to the other reconciliation also ; viz. on God's 
 part towards us. For they plainly mean that this recon- 
 ciliation is brought about by sacrifice, viz. by our Lord 
 Jesus's offering himself upon the cross for us (as Jiereafter 
 we shall have occasion more largely to shew.) Now a 
 sacrifice is offered to God only, not to men, and being for 
 reconciliation, must principally, and in the first place, intend 
 the reconciling of God to us ; though it secondarily hath 
 its great use, for the reconciling us to God also ; as here- 
 after we shall shew. And it is in the nature of the thing 
 very evident ; reconciliation supposing a difference and 
 displeasure between two parties, as what hath been, it 
 must include the agreement of both, as that which now is. 
 A willingness to be reconciled there may be on one side, 
 when there is none on the other, as it is often and 'long 
 between God and men ; but if there be actual reconciliation, 
 it is always mutual ; unless the one party deceive, or impose 
 upon the other, pretending to be reconciled when he is not ; 
 which, in the case between God and us, can never be ; for 
 neither can we deceive God, nor will he deceive us. There- 
 fore we shall treat of both the parts of this reconciliation, 
 of men to God, and of God to them. 
 
 1. Our reconciliation to God. And though that be 
 proposed to be first insisted on, let none think it is there- 
 fore looked upon as deserving, or as being any way a 
 cause of his reconciliation to us. For as our enmity and 
 rebellion against him cannot do him real hurt, though it 
 does him infinite wrong ; so our love and obedience, though 
 they are most due to him, can profit him nothing. " Can 
 a man be profitable unto God, as he that is wise may be 
 
OP KECONCILIATON BKTWEEX GOD AND MAN. 243 
 
 profitable to himself; is it a gain to him, if we be righteous ?" 
 Job, xxii. 2, 3. " What givest thou him ? or what receiveth 
 he of thine hand 1 Thy wickedness may hurt a man, as 
 thou art, and thy righteousness may profit a son of man," 
 ch. XXXV. 7, 8. But by neither can we do the one or other 
 to him. It should therefore be far from us to imagine we 
 can procure his favour or reconciliation, by any thing we 
 can do. And know, sinner, he is before-hand with thee, 
 in the offer of reconciliation and in real willingness to be 
 reconciled ; for his ofi^er is most sincere. When, therefore, 
 out of a state of enmity, thou art brought to love him, it 
 is because he loved tliee first, 1 John, iv, 19. But take 
 this aright, that thou mayst not deceive thyself, nor -wrong 
 him. Before our reconciliation to him, his gospel truly 
 speaks him reconcilable, and offering us reconciliation ; 
 when his offer is accepted and complied with, then his 
 gospel speaks him actually reconciled. His offer of recon- 
 ciliation shews his compassion, which is love to the miser- 
 able ; herein he is before-hand with them whom he finally 
 saves, he loves them with this love while they yet hate him 
 and are full of enmity against him. From this love it is 
 that he is reconcilable to them, willing to forgive all their 
 former enmity and rebellions ; if yet they will be recon- 
 ciled, and turn to him with their whole souls. And this 
 he testifies to them in his gospel ; and hereby his Spirit, 
 working in and by this gospel of his grace, he overcomes 
 them, conquers their enmity, and causes them to love him, 
 whom before they hated. But this actual reconciliation 
 is always accompanied with delight, ■which is love to the 
 amiable, such as he hath now made lovely, by transform- 
 ing them into his own image, who is love, 1 John, iv. 16. 
 This is friendly, complaccntial love, that freely converses 
 and holds comnmnion with the beloved, so that they dwell 
 in him, and he in them, as in the same place. 
 
 It is profane, therefore, and an insolent presumption, for 
 any to say, God is reconciled to me, he delights and takes 
 pleasure in me, while they are unreconciled to him, and 
 have hearts full of wicked enmity against him. They do 
 
244 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 even weaiy him with their words, when they say, " Every 
 one that doth evil is good in tlie sight of the Lord, and he 
 delighteth in them," Mai. ii. 17. 'Tis an affront to his 
 excellent Majesty, a reproach to his glorious holiness and 
 the purity of his nature, a defiance to the justice of his 
 government, to think him well pleased, when they persist 
 in their rebellions against him ; or that he will be recon- 
 ciled to them, when this is still the temper and posture of 
 their souls towards him. "He is not a God that takes 
 pleasure in wickedness, nor shall evil dwell with him ; he 
 hates the workers of iniquity," Psal. v. 4, 5. Any such 
 thought he will severely and terribly avenge. If any man 
 bless himself in his heart, and say, " I shall have peace 
 when he walks in the imagination of his heart, God will 
 not spare him, but the anger of the Lord, and his jealousy, 
 shall smoke against that man," Deut. xxix. 19, 20. And 
 it is, on the other hand, a wicked, provoking unbelief, a 
 high affront to him, a giving him the lie, if one, really 
 willing to be reconciled, do apprehend him irreconcilable, 
 or say in his heart, God will never shew me mercy. It is 
 as much as to say, that the word of his grace is nothing 
 but deceit, and his whole gospel is made up of falsehood. 
 Therefore, though our reconciliation to him is no cause of 
 his reconciliation to us, yet (according to the method which 
 he hath settled, as most agreeable to his glorious majesty, 
 to his pure holiness, his hatred of sin, the justice of his 
 government, and the truth of his word) we cannot say he 
 is actually reconciled to us, till we are reconciled to him. 
 It may be said he pities us before, and is upon gospel 
 terms reconcilable to us, not that he delights in us, or is 
 reconciled. And we may the better understand this, that 
 our reconciliation is no cause of his reconciliation to us, 
 though it go before it, inasmuch as he works both reconci- 
 liations, in and by his Christ ; so the text speaks of both ; 
 " You hath he reconciled" — not we ourselves. And 2 Cor. 
 V. 18. " All things are of God, who hath reconciled us to 
 himself, by Jesus Christ ;" but in this way, order, and 
 method, that first he overcomes our enmity, changes our 
 
OP llECONCIlIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 245 
 
 hearts, and turns them to him ; then is reconciled to us, as 
 believing in his Son, and accepts us in him, as the beloved one. 
 Hereupon therefore we are first to consider, and open 
 to yoti, our reconciliation to God ; which we shall consider 
 and speak of, not merely by shewing the very point where- 
 in it lies ; but more largely, by letting you see what it 
 comprehends in the compass of it, or what belongs to it, 
 and in '\\hat way it is brought about. We are indeed to 
 consider that this, in the text, " you hath he reconciled," 
 is an historical passage, signifying somewhat past, a res gesta, 
 a great thing effected and done. Whereas therefore some 
 have taken much pains (and not to ill purpose) to write 
 histories of nature, and give account of natural productions ; 
 we may call this a history of grace, giving some account how 
 this gracious production is effected, and wrought on the 
 souls of men. And for you that are reconciled, it is but to 
 repeat to you your own story, and shew you what God hath 
 done for your soul, in this blessed work. We might have 
 carried the same notion backward, and in the former part 
 have considered your case, as the history of a man's unre- 
 generate state ; but those days, I believe, you would rather 
 should not be numbered amongst the months. We there- 
 fore go on, to consider what will be of a more grateful, as 
 well as most useful remembrance to you ; viz. how God 
 hath dealt with you, in bringing about this happy change. 
 And doing it, in some sort, in the way of a history, it will 
 be the more suitable to put you in mind, in divers par- 
 ticulars, of the manner how it was wrought ; it being use- 
 ful, in historical relations, not only in short to say that 
 such a thing was done, but more at large to relate how, 
 and in what way it was done. Though yet we cannot 
 certainly say, that the several things we shall mention, 
 were all done in that order wherein we shall set them 
 down ; for God's method may vary, or not in every respect 
 be the same, with every one he savingly works upon. But 
 because there are several things to be spoken which cannot 
 all be mentioned at once, or in one breath, and some order 
 or other most be used in reciting them ; we shall repeat 
 
246 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 them, not merely as they occur to our thoughts, but also 
 as they more aptly lie in order to one another ; not doubt- 
 ing but if you have been reconciled to God, you will say, 
 when you hear them, these things have been wrought in 
 you. Or if you have not, I must say, these are things you 
 are to look after ; and must at one time find in yourselves, 
 if ever you shall be reconciled. And so this reconciliation 
 hath begun with you, or must begin in, 
 
 1. A thorough conviction, with deep and inward sense, 
 wrought into your hearts, of your former enmity. There 
 must have been a charging oneself, particularly, with this 
 matter of fact, I have been alienated from God, and an 
 enemy to him in my mind ; I see it, I confess it, thus it 
 hath' been with me, this hath been the temper of my soul, 
 towards the blessed God ! Here lies the great difficulty of 
 reconciliation, on our part, that men are so hardly brought 
 to see and own this ; because they feel not an enmity boil- 
 ing in their hearts against God, therefore they will not 
 yield there is any such thing. But they might take notice, 
 they as little feel love burning in their breasts toward him. 
 And they the less apprehend the truth of their case in this 
 respect, because by the same external shew and appearance, 
 by which they may deceive other men, they endeavour to 
 cheat themselves too ; that is, because they sometimes bear 
 a part in the solemnities of God's worship, and sit in an 
 assembly as his people, hear his word, and with their mouth 
 {ore tenus, or in outward appearance) shew much love, they 
 therefore think all is well, though their heart run after their 
 covetousness, Ezek. xxxiii. 31. But what can be said to 
 that convictive query ; How canst thou say thou lovest me, 
 when thy heart is not with me ? when in reference to crea- 
 tures it is required that love be without dissimulation, and 
 that we love not in word or tongue, but in deed and truth : 
 Will an outward appearance and show of love, be sufficient 
 towards the most amiable and most excellent One, the ever- 
 blessed, heart-searching God ? Let this be laid as a ground 
 most firm and stable, that if the subject, thy soul, be capa- 
 ble, and the object, the ever-blessed God, be made known 
 
OP.RECONOILIATION BETWiiEN GOD AND MAN. 247 
 
 and set in view to the eye of the mind ; if then there is 
 not love towards him, there is hatred. What ! can a reason- 
 able soul be indifferent towards God, the all- comprehend- 
 ing Being ! and with whom all have to do ! the first and the 
 continual Author of our life and being, whose invisible and 
 eternal power are manifest in the visible things which he 
 hath made ; so that heaven and earth are full of his glory ] 
 Towards some remote foreign prince, multitudes may be 
 void of love and hatred alike, of whom they have no notice, 
 with whom they have no business. Can it be so with 
 us towards God, who is God alone, besides whom there is 
 no other, in whom all live, and move, and have their being, 
 who is, therefore, not far from any one of us ; and whom 
 all are obliged to take for their God, and must, if they 
 accept him not, be taken for refusers 1 A thing that carries 
 with it most horrid guilt ! and carries in it downright 
 enmity ; and the more heinous, when, with any, it is covered 
 with lying lips, with the cloak of a profession, viz. that 
 they have taken him for their God, when such as say that 
 he is their God yet have not known him, as John, viii. 54, 
 55. For that ignorance must proceed from enmity, a not 
 liking to retain God in their knowledge, as Rom. i. 28. 
 Of which ignorance from disaffection, if heathens might be 
 guilty, as they were, the apostle there speaks ; much more 
 deeply guilty are they, who being his professing people, 
 yet know him not ; as they were, whom our Lord so charges 
 in the fore-cited passage, John, viii. 54, 55. For these 
 hide their hatred with lying lips, which is much more an 
 abomination to the Lord, Pro v. x. 18. If 3'ou never so 
 confidently pretend love to God, and he that knows all 
 things says, " I know you that you have not the love of God 
 in you," as our Saviour tells the Jews ; who is more likely 
 to be mistaken ? John, v. 42. And can you be more con- 
 fident, or more highly boast your relation to God, or your 
 love to him, than they who were so peculiarly his people, 
 chosen out from all nations ? If you say you are lovers of 
 God : and the Son of God, whose eyes are as a flame of 
 fire, and who searches hearts and reins (Rev. ii. 18, 23), 
 
248 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 says, " I know you that you have not the love of God in 
 you ;" how must it appal and dismay your hearts, to have 
 his certain unerring judgment of you, thus to control 
 your partial, self-flattering judgment ; and if this be indeed 
 the state of the case, with any of us, and he know it to be 
 so, it is enough for our condemnation ; but for our saving 
 conviction it is necessary that we know it too : therefore 
 let us search our own hearts, and try them impartially, by 
 all the several evidences, and aggravations of enmity against 
 God, in the foregoing discourse, from p. 218, to p. 234. 
 And to all these, I add here some enlargement, upon what 
 was more lightly touched (as within the narrow limits of 
 time, wherein that discourse was delivered, it could not be 
 otherwise), viz. disobedience to that plain, express com- 
 mand of our Lord : to lay up our treasure, not on earth 
 but in heaven, so as to have our hearts also there, 
 Matt. vi. 19, 21. This I choose to insist upon, in reference 
 to our present purpose, that where there is a remaining and 
 a reigning enmity against God, there may be a thorough 
 conviction of it, in order to reconciliation ; both because as 
 to this thing, the rule we are to judge by is so very plain 
 in the word of God ; and because the temper and bent of 
 our own hearts, in this respect, is so easily discernible, to 
 them that will diligently and faithfully observe them- 
 selves. 
 
 Scripture is most express herein, as in the place last 
 mentioned, that they whose hearts are on earth, and not in 
 heaven, have no treasure in heaven. And what can be a 
 greater evidence of enmity to God, than to have the bent 
 and tendency of your heart and spirit directly contrary to 
 the mind of God concerning you, or to what he would 
 have it be, and it must necessarily be, that you may not be 
 lost, and miserable for ever ? The enmity to him, which lie 
 so much resents, is not your designing any hurt or preju- 
 dice to him ; but the contrariety of your temper to his kind 
 and merciful design towards you. Therefore they that mind 
 earthly things, that is, that savour them most (as the word 
 signifies), and it must be understood as excluding the 
 
OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 249 
 
 savour of better things, that is, who only savour them, and 
 taste no pleasure or delight in spiritual or heavenly things ; 
 such are said to be enemies to the cross of Christ, i. e. 
 to the design of his dying upon the cross, which was to 
 procure for his redeemed a blessed state in heaven, and 
 to bring them thither, not to plant and settle them here on 
 earth. They are enemies therefore, because his design 
 and theirs lie contrary, and oppose one another. He is all 
 for having them to heaven, and was so intent upon that 
 design, as not to shun dying upon a cross to effect it ; they 
 are all for an earthly felicity, and for a continual abode 
 upon earth, to enjoy it. This is an opposition full of spite 
 and enmity, to oppose him in a design of love, and upon 
 which his heart was set with so much earnestness ! There- 
 fore is the carnal mind said to be at enmity against God, 
 Rom. viii. 7, even as it is death, v. 6. But to whom ? not 
 to the blessed God himself, w^hich you know is impossible, 
 but to us. It is not subject to his law, nor indeed can 
 be ; for that is spiritual, ch. vii. 14, and the best on earth 
 find themselves, in too great degree, carnal ; and here lies 
 the contrariety, much more when this carnality is total. 
 And this law is the law of the spirit of life, in Christ Jesus, 
 which directly tends to make us free from the law of sin 
 and death (chap. viii. 2) ; which it doth when the Spirit 
 of God prevails, and gets the victory over this carnality of 
 mind, so that we come to walk, not after the flesh, but 
 after the Spirit. In the mean time, they that are after 
 the flesh do only savour the things of the flesh ; as they 
 that after the Spirit do the things of the Spirit, v. 5. And 
 they that are after the flesh shall die, l)ut they that by the 
 Spirit mortify the deeds of the flesh shall live, v. 13. 
 Therefore we see the reason why it is above said, they that 
 are in the flesh, or imder a prevailing carnality, cannot 
 please God ; for he takes no pleasure in the death of a 
 sinner, but that he should turn and live, Ezek. xxxiii. 11. 
 You cannot please him, because the bent of your carnal 
 mind lies cross to his saving design, you are enemies in 
 your mind to him, for your mind is most opposite to his 
 
250 OF RECONCILIATIOJf BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. • 
 
 mind ; he is for saving you, you are for self-destruction, 
 you hate him, as you love death, Prov, viii. 36. Therefore 
 also they that love this world, the love of the Father is not 
 in them, 1 John, ii. 15. He would have them do his will, 
 and abide in a blessed state for ever ; but while they love 
 this world, their hearts are set upon a vanishing thing ; for 
 the world and the lust thereof must pass away and be 
 gone, V. 17. They cannot love him, while in mind, and 
 will, and design, they so little agree with him. And here- 
 upon is the fi-iendship of this world said to be enmity 
 against God, and he that Avill be a friend of this world, 
 makes himself an enemy to God, James, iv. 4. The design 
 of his amity with you is disappointed and lost, therefore he 
 can look upon you no otherwise than as enemies to him. 
 
 And now, if this be the temper of your mind and spirit, 
 how easily, by looking into your own hearts, might you 
 discern it ? Know you not your ownselves ? 2 Cor. xiii. 5. 
 As if it were said, it is a reproach to be ignorant or with- 
 out this knowledge ! What is so near you as yourselves ? 
 Do you not know your own minds 1 whether you had 
 rather have your portion for ever on earth, or in heaven ] 
 whether you more value a heavenly treasure or the trea- 
 sures of this earth ] If you chiefly mind earthly things, 
 how can you but know it ? Do but take an account of 
 yourselves, where are your hearts all the day from morning 
 to night, from day to day, from week to week, from year 
 to year 1 what thoughts, designs, cares, delights are they 
 that usually fill your souls ? are they not worldly, carnal, 
 earthly ? Trace your own hearts : how canst thou say, I 
 am not polluted 1 see thy way (Jer. ii. 23), mark thy own 
 footsteps, see what course thou hast held, years together, 
 even under the gospel ; and when thou hast been so often 
 warned, even by him who bought thee by his blood, to seek 
 first the kingdom of heaven — to strive to enter in at the 
 strait gate — and told how precious a thing thy soul is, even 
 more worth than all the world ; and how fearful a bargain 
 thou wouldst have of it, if thou shouldst gain the whole 
 world, and lose thy soul ! And if all the neglects of his 
 
OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 251 
 
 warninjis and counsels have proceeded from the worldli- 
 ness, earthliness, and carnality of tliy heart and raind, and 
 all this is declared to be enmity against God ; then cast 
 thyself down at his foot, and say to him, Now, Lord, I yield 
 to conviction ; I now perceive I have been alienated, and 
 an enemy in my mind by wicked works, though I never 
 suspected any such thing by myself before. And know 
 that till then the gospel of reconciliation will do thee no 
 good, thou wilt never be the better for it, though thou 
 livest under it all thy days ; all exhortations to be recon- 
 ciled to God, and to get this dreadful disease of enmity 
 against God cured, will avail no more than physic, or a 
 ph^'sician, to one that counts he is Avell, and feels himself 
 not at all sick. All thy Redeemer's calls will sound in 
 thine ears, as if he called the righteous, and not a sinner, to 
 repentance. But that such calls might, or may yet signify 
 the more, know that reconciliation not only comprehends a 
 conviction of the fact, that thou hast been an enemy ; but 
 will also contain, in thy case, if ever thou be reconciled, 
 
 2. A clear and lively apprehension, with dread and horror, 
 of the monstrous iniquity and wickedness thereof. This 
 hath been or must be wrought in thee. And when thou 
 art convicted in thy conscience of thy being an enemy to 
 the ever-blessed God, how canst thou but see thyself to 
 be a vile and wicked creature, upon this account ? This 
 is thy case, and thou must apprehend it accordingly, that 
 thou art an enemy in thy mind, and by wicked works. For 
 what can be more wicked, than to hate the God of thy life ! 
 even him who is love and goodness itself in highest per- 
 fection ! What to hate the God of all grace, he that is the 
 Lord, the Lord gracious and merciful, abounding in loving- 
 kindness, goodness, and truth ! Bethink thyself, make 
 thy reflections, view the face of thy soul in the mirror of 
 that most righteous law, Tliou shalt love the Lord thy God, 
 with all thy heart, and soul, and might, and mind. And 
 doth it not astonish thee to Ijchold enmity filling up, in thy 
 soul, the room and place of love ! that thou findest thou 
 hast, in thy suul, a power of thinking thoughts, but canst 
 
252 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 take no pleasure to think of God ! Thou hast in thy nature 
 a principle of love, and thou canst love thy friend, thy 
 child, yea thy money, and (what is worse) thy lust ; hut 
 canst not love thy God ! How fearful a case ! that when 
 thou hast a mind and spirit in thee, made up of reason and 
 love, it should against all reason love things less lovely, as 
 earth and vanity ; yea even most hateful, as sin and iniquity ; 
 but cannot love its own Father, even him whose offspring 
 it is, and to whom alone the title belongs of Father of 
 spirits.* How monstrous a deformity is this ! How fear- 
 ful a transformation of a reasonable, immortal mind and 
 spirit ! If thy body were wrested into never so horrid and 
 hideous shapes, there were nothing, in point of horror, com- 
 parable to this deformedness of thy soul. Nor canst thoii 
 ever be reconciled to God, till there be unreconcilableness 
 to thyself, as thou art in this state ; and till thou be the 
 most frightful, hateful spectacle to thyself, on this account. 
 Thou wilt never look upon thy own carnal mind, or thy 
 friendliness towards this world, which is declared to be 
 enmity against God (Rom. viii, 7 ; Jam. iv. 4), with a kind, 
 self-indulgent eye any more ; but as having in them the 
 most amazing \vickedness, such whereby a reasonable soul, 
 an understanding mind and spirit, is brought to love a clod 
 of clay, a lump of earth, yea even sin itself, rather than the 
 ever-blessed and most holy God of heaven ! Let no man 
 ever think himself in a way of reconciliation to God, till 
 he find in his soul a very deep sense of so hateful an evil 
 as this ; and have expressly charged himself wdth it, before 
 the throne of the Most High. If you find there is a diffi- 
 culty in it, and that your hearts are hardly brought to it, 
 that they fly back and recoil, and will not yield that any 
 thing so bad is to be charged upon them ; take so much 
 the more pains, labour and strive w^ith them the more to 
 
 * So some heathens have conceived of God, as the tov; rra-reixoi, the pater- 
 nnl mind, Hierocl. And so the apostle quotes a heathen poet, speaking of 
 ourselves as God's offspring. And thereupon adds that the Godhead is 
 not like silver and gold, whereas he is like our minds or spirits ; whence 
 he might collect how unreasonable it is not only to love silver and gold, 
 which is unlike him, but even sin, which is most contrary, and hateful 
 to him. 
 
OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 253 
 
 bring them to it ; because the whole business of your peace 
 and reconciliation with God depends upon it. You can 
 never be reconciled, till you see your not being so, or your 
 continuing enmity is a thing not to be endured : that if 
 thou couldst be truly charged with hating thy own father 
 or mother, or wife or child, or thy prince or country ; none 
 of these, though monstrously bad, are by many degrees so 
 ill things as the hating of thy God. 
 
 Therefore since this charge cannot be denied, it must be 
 aggravated upon thy own soul, till thou feel the weight and 
 burden of it ; and that now at length thou art brought to 
 say, I cannot endure to dwell with myself, I cannot keep 
 myself company, nor eat, or drink, or sleep, or converse 
 with myself in peace, till my heart be changed, and the case 
 be altered with me in this respect. If thou canst truly say, 
 Christ hath reconciled thee, thus thou hast felt and found 
 it, or thus thou ^\dlt find it, if ever thy reconciliation be 
 brought al)out. 
 
 3. You that are reconciled, may reflect and take notice 
 of this, as a further very remarkable thing in your own 
 story, that you have been made deeply sensible of your 
 great sinfulness, in other respects. And for others, that 
 are yet to be reconciled, know that this belongs to the 
 reconciliation, which you are to endeavour and seek after, a 
 deep sense of sin, in the full extent of it. As love is the 
 fulfilling of the law, and is therefore to be considered, not 
 in one single duty only, but as the spring and source of all 
 other duty ; so enmity is to be looked upon not as one 
 single sin only, but as the spring and fountain of all other 
 sin. Therefore when you are convinced, and made sensible 
 of your enmity against God, you have been, or must be, 
 led on, fi'om this fountain to the several impure streams 
 and rivulets issuing from it ; and have a like conviction 
 and sense of your sinfulness, in the larger extent and com- 
 pass of it ; and that in such respects, whereof slighter peni- 
 tents take little notice. As for instance, 
 
 1. You have had or must have a sight and sense of sin 
 as sin. Many apprehend little of it besides the sound of 
 
254 OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 the word, and make a light matter of it. I am a sinner, is 
 soon said, when it is little understood what sin is, or what 
 it is to be a sinner. But you have, or must conceive of 
 sin, as a violation of the holy law of God ; an affront to 
 the authority of your Maker and sovereign Lord, a setting 
 of your own will above and against the supreme will of 
 the Most High. Hereupon you must consider, if yet you 
 have not, what a fearful thing it is to be a sinner, and say 
 with yourself, " what a monstrous vile wretch am I ! 
 that was nothing but the other day, and now being raised 
 up into being a reasonable creature, capable of subjection 
 to a law, to rise up in rebellion against him that gave me 
 breath !" What to contend against him who is thy life, 
 and the length of thy days, how horrid must this be in thy 
 eyes ! 
 
 2. You must have a thorough conviction and sense of 
 the sinfulness of your nature, as having been sinful from 
 the womb, born in sin, conceived and brought forth in 
 iniquity, Psal. Iviii. 3. Psal. li. 5. Hence you are to bethink 
 yourself, " What a loathsome creature have I been from 
 my original ! to have come into the world with a nature 
 poisoned and envenomed with sin ! What a wonder was it 
 that the holy God would suffer me to breathe in the world 
 so long, and feed and sustain me so many days !" Many 
 may have some sense of wicked acts, that have no sense 
 of the impurity of their natures. This should fill thee with 
 confusion and self-abhorrence ! 
 
 3. Of such sinful inclinations and actions, as were most 
 directly against God. Many can be convinced of wrong 
 done to a neighbour, that have no sense of their having 
 wronged the God of their lives, by continual neglects of 
 him, casting him out of their thoughts and hearts, and 
 living as without God in the world ; and as if they had 
 been made to please and serve themselves, and not him. 
 
 4. But there must also be a deep sense too of sins 
 against thy neighbour. For on the other hand, there are 
 too many that are so taken up about the commands of the 
 first table, as to overlook those of the second ; that if they 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 255 
 
 cannot be accused of gross idolatry, or of the neglect of 
 God's external worship, think themselves very innocent, 
 w^hen in the meantime they live, as to their neighbours, in 
 envy, hatred, malice, hateful, and hating one anotlier ; 
 make no scruple of cozening or defrauding a neighbour for 
 their own advantage, or of bearing him a grudge, of har- 
 bouring tlioughts of revenge against him. Whereas we are 
 plainly told, that if we forgive not our offending brother, 
 neither will God forgive us ; and are taught to pray for 
 forgiveness to ourselves, but as we forgive others. And 
 that he that hates his brother, abides in death, 1 John, iii. 
 14. Yea, and that when the law of God requires us to 
 love our neighbour as ourselves, we are obliged not only 
 not to harm him, but to do him all the good we can, as 
 we have opportunity, and as we are able, when we see 
 him in distress, to relieve and help him. Especially if we 
 see him go on in a sinful course, to admonish and reprove 
 him, with prudent friendliness, and not suffer sin upon 
 him ; otherwise thy righteous Judge will reckon that thou 
 hatest him in thy heart. Lev, xix. 17. 
 
 5. And thou oughtest to be sensible too of sins against 
 thyself. For when God's law requires us to love our 
 neighbour as ourselves, it implies there is a love which we 
 owe to ourselves ; not that inordinate self-love, which ex- 
 cludes both love to God and our neighbour ; but such as 
 is subordinate to the one, and co-ordinate with the other. 
 Consider, therefore, whether thou hast not been guilty of 
 sinning against thyself: against thy body, in gluttony, 
 drunkenness, fulfilling the lusts of it : against thy soul, in 
 neglecting it, in famishing it, letting it pine and waste away 
 in thy iniquities ; in ignorance, worldliness, carnality, 
 estrangedness from God, never looking after a Saviour for 
 it, not using the appointed means of thy salvation. What 
 multitudes live all their days in sin of this kind, and never 
 accuse or blame themselves for it ? 
 
 6. And you must labour to be sensible of all such sins 
 against your neighbour, and yourselves, as sins, though not 
 immediately or directly, yet principally against God him- 
 
256 OP EECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 self ; because he is the supreme Lawgiver, and 'tis he, who 
 by his law hath settled that order in the world, which by 
 such sins you have violated and broken. Therefore doth that 
 great penitent thus accuse himself, in his humble confession 
 to the great God : Against thee, thee only have I sinned (Psal. 
 li. 4), reflecting upon the transgressions by which he had 
 highly wronged Uriah, Bathsheba, and his owti soul ; be- 
 cause there is but one sovereign Lawgiver (James, iv. 12), 
 by whose authority only, either put forth immediately by 
 himself, or derived to his vicegerents, all just laws are 
 made, by which there comes to be any such thing as sin 
 or duty in the world. Therefore you must charge your- 
 self as having offended him by all the sins that ever you 
 were guilty of; though man was the object, God's law was 
 the rule, sinned against. 
 
 7. You ought therefore to be sensible of secret sins, which 
 he only knows ; as well as open, and such as tend to bring 
 reproach upon you amongst men. 
 
 8. And (amongst them) of the sins of your heart, and 
 inward man, evil thoughts, designs, affections, inclinations ; 
 as well as of such as have broken foi-th into outward 
 actions. 
 
 9. Of sinful omissions, as well as commissions ; you 
 must be sensible, not only of the evil which you have done, 
 but the good that you might and ought to have done, 
 which you have not done. The judgment of the great day, 
 as it is represented. Matt. xxv. from ver. 31 to the end of 
 the chapter, runs, you see, chiefly upon the omissions of 
 the condemned, in opposition to the performances of them 
 that are absolved, and adjudged to life everlasting. And 
 before, in the same chapter, he that made no use of his one 
 talent, is doomed unto utter darkness, where is weeping 
 and gnashing of teeth, under the name of an unprofitable 
 servant, ver. 30, that is, a wicked and slothful servant, as 
 he is called, ver, 26, For though, when we have done all 
 we can, we are to count ourselves unprofitable servants, 
 and to God we are so ; yet we ought, and are capable, to 
 be profitable to ourselves, and to other men ; and to God 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 257 
 
 we ought to be faithful servants, though we cannot be pro- 
 fitable. But will you count him a faithful servant, who 
 can only plead for himself to his master ; " I have not 
 embezzled your goods, destroyed your cattle, or burnt 
 your house j" when yet he never did him real service 1 If 
 ever therefore you be reconciled to God, you will be or 
 have been in bitter agonies of spirit before him, in the 
 review of your former fruitless life, and that you have lived 
 so long in the world to so little purpose ! 
 
 10. You must have been, or will yet be, deeply affected 
 with the sense of sins, not only against the holy, righteous 
 law of God, but against the gospel of his Son ; not only 
 that you have swerved from the rules which were given 
 you, and neglected the ends you were made for, as you 
 are God's creatures, and tlie work of his hands, thereby 
 exposing yourselves to his wrath and justice ; but that you 
 have slighted the only remedy tendered you in the gospel, 
 neglected the great salvation that was wrought out, and 
 began to be spoken by the Lord himself, Heb. ii. 3, 4. 
 Consider, were you never in dread, did you never cry 
 out affrighted, " How can I escape, who have neglected 
 such a salvation, such a Saviour ?" It must at one time 
 or other cut and wound your souls, to think how many 
 serious warnings, earnest invitations, -affectionate entreaties, 
 heart-melting allurements have I withstood ! How often 
 have I been besought, in the name of a crucified, dying 
 Redeemer, to resign and surrender myself to him, to sub- 
 mit to his authority, to accept his mercy, and have refused ! 
 The heavy yoke and burden of sin and guilt have been 
 more tolerable to me, than his easy yoke and light burden. 
 I have more busied myself to increase my interest and 
 share in this present world, than to gain a part in that 
 fulness of grace, righteousness, spirit, and life which is 
 treasured up in him. Your reconciliation can never be 
 brought about, but upon a heart-wounding sense of your 
 being so long unreconciled, and your having disregarded 
 the great and merciful Reconciler. 
 
 4. If Christ hath brought about, in you, a thorough re- 
 
 R 
 
258 or RECONCILIATION" BETAVEEN GOP AND MAN. 
 
 conciliation to God, this further belongs to the history of 
 his dealings with you, as that which he hath given you to 
 experience ; or if he have not yet reconciled you, 'tis that 
 which, if ever you be reconciled, you are yet to expect ; 
 viz. a deep inward apprehension and sense both of the dread- 
 fulness and dueness of divine displeasure towards you, for 
 your former enmity against him, and for all the other wick- 
 edness that hath accompanied it. 
 
 1. Of the dreadfulness of his displeasure. You could no 
 longer make light of it, or eat and drink and sleep in quiet., 
 and give yourself the liberty of mirth and jollity, while 
 you still lay under it. God is said to be angry with the 
 wicked every day, Ps. vii. 11, and to hate all the workers 
 of iniquity, Ps. v. 5. You will count it a fearful thing to 
 fall into the hands of the living God, when he saith, venge- 
 ance belongs to him, and he will repay it, Heb. v. 30, 31. 
 And when you have reason to apprehend him, as lifting 
 up his hand to heaven, and saying, I live for ever ; as 
 ■whetting the glittering sAvord, and his hand taking hold of 
 vengeance, Deut. xxxii. 40, 41. You must have thought, 
 or will yet think with yourself, who knows the powder of 
 his anger ! Ps. xc. 11. And by how much the less you 
 can know it, so much the more you must have dreaded it. 
 For all the while you have been abusing his patience, long- 
 suffering, and forbearance, not considering that the good- 
 ness of God did lead you to repentance ; so long as you 
 w^ere despising the riches of his goodness, you w^re treasur- 
 ing up to yourselves wrath against the day of wrath, and 
 the revelation of his righteous judgment, Rom. ii. 4, 5. 
 And to have treasures of unknown wrath, far beyond what 
 you could conceive, laying "up in store against you, how 
 amazing must this be to you ! Destruction from the Al- 
 mighty ! What a terror must that be to you ! Job, xxxi. 
 23. To eat and drink under w^rath ! to l3uy and sell, to 
 plough and sow, and all under wa*ath ! and with a curse 
 fi'om God, covering you as a garment, cleaving to you as a 
 girdle, flowing as oil into your bones, mingling with all 
 your aifaivs, and all your comforts, with whatsoever you 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 259 
 
 do, and whatsoever you enjoy ! And to be, all the while, 
 upon the brink of eternity, and not, for ought you know, 
 to have a hand-breadth, not more than a breath, between 
 you and eternal woes and flames, and none to deliver you 
 from the wrath to come ! This cannot have been an easy 
 condition, and the less when you considered, 
 
 2. The dueness of God's wrath and displeasure unto you ; 
 that how terrible soever it is, 'tis all most justl}' deserved. 
 You must have been made to see and say, " Indignation 
 and wrath, tribulation and anguish, did most righteously 
 belong to me, as my most proper portion ; to me an enemy 
 to the God of my life, who gave me breath and being, upon 
 the treasures of whose bounty I have lived all my days ; 
 to whom, when he filled my house with good things, yet I 
 often in my heart said, " Depart from me, I desire not the 
 knowledge of thy ways," Job, xxi. 14, 15. And as the 
 law of love to God, the great original law, had engaged me 
 to keep all his other commandments, so my enmity against 
 him hath made me break them all ; so that I have lived a 
 life of disobedience and rebellion all my time thus far. And 
 though he hath offered me terms of peace, and I have been 
 often earnestly besought, by those that have spoken to me 
 in Christ's stead (my bleeding, dying Redeemer and Lord), 
 to be reconciled to God ; yet I have hitherto borne toward 
 him an impenitent, implacable heart. If there were ten 
 thousand hells, they were all due to me, I have deserved 
 them all. 
 
 5. Such as have been reconciled, have been brought, by 
 believing, to apprehend God's reconcilableness to them, in 
 and by his own Son. This also belongs to the history of 
 God's dispensation towards them, and may instruct others, 
 by letting them know what must be wrought in them, that 
 they may be reconciled. It is their special advantage that 
 live under the gospel, that therein they behold God recon- 
 ciling the world to himself, by Jesus Christ, 2 Cor. v. 18, 
 19. This is the sum of the gospel, that God so loved the 
 world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever 
 believethMn him should not perish, but have life everlast- 
 
260 OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 ing, John, iii. 16. Hereby they may know and believe the 
 love God hath to them, 1 John, iv. 16. And that, though 
 they have been alienated, and enemies in their minds by 
 wicked works, yet he is not irreconcilable. This is the 
 gospel of the grace of God, which he testifies, and they are 
 to believe, unless they will make him a liar, 1 John, v. 10. 
 And therefore notwithstanding the sense they ought to 
 have of their having been enemies, and of the horrid wicked- 
 ness hereof, and of their sinful temper and course in all 
 other respects, together with the terrors of God's wrath, 
 and their desert of it to the uttermost ; they are yet to con- 
 join therewith, the belief of his willingness to be reconciled. 
 And hereby he melts and breaks their hearts, viz. by this 
 discovery of his good-will, believed ; for disbelieved, it can 
 signify nothing, nor have any effect upon them ; the gospel 
 is his power to salvation, to every one that believes (Rom. 
 i. 16), and works effectually in them that believe, 1 Thess. 
 ii. 13. So it is the immediate instrument of their regene- 
 ration, after that the love and kindness of God to men 
 appears, i. e. so as that they believe it, he saves them by 
 the washing of regeneration, and the renewing of the Holy 
 Ghost, Tit. iii. 4, 5. And then he makes them know it is 
 not by works of righteousness, which they have done, but 
 by his mercy, as it is there expressed. They are not (as 
 was formerly said) the objects of his delightful love, before 
 their regeneration ; but they may be of his pity or mercy, 
 his compassionate love ; and this they are to believe, as the 
 general proposal of his gospel declares it : and by the belief 
 hereof, he conquers their enmity, and subdues them into 
 compliance with his good and acceptable will. These glad 
 tidings, that he is truly willing to receive any returning 
 soul, vanquishes their disaffection, and overcomes their 
 hearts ; makes them say with themselves, why should I 
 still continue alienated fi'om the God who is so gracious 
 and merciful, abundant in loving-kindness, goodness, and 
 truth, as his name signifies (Exod. xxxiv. 6, 7), though 
 he will by no means clear the guilty, ^. e. the obstinate, 
 impenitent, and implacable. But if this discovery of the 
 
OF RECONCILIATIONS' BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 261 
 
 grace of God can find no entrance, sinner, into thy soul, 
 if it remain shut up in unbelief ; or if, when he tells thee 
 over and over, that he takes no pleasure in the death of 
 sinners, hut that they turn and live, thou wilt not believe 
 him, but still think him implacable, and, Cain-like, say 
 thy sin is greater than can be forgiven ; this hardens thy 
 heart in enmity against him, and makes thee say, as Jer. 
 ii. 25, There is no hope, I have loved strangers, and after 
 them I will go. Therefore if ever thou hast been or shalt 
 be reconciled to God, as thou hast not been left in a stupid 
 insensibleness of thy former wickedness, so thou hast been 
 kept from sinking into an utter despair of God's mercy ; 
 thy reconciliation is brought about by thy believing his 
 reconcilableness. 
 
 6. Hereupon thou wast brought to entreat his favour 
 with thy whole heart, and that he would be merciful to 
 thee according to his word, Psalm cxix. 58. When thou 
 sawest, though thy case was very horrid and dismal, yet it 
 was not hopeless, and that there was a ground for prayer in 
 the hope of mercy ; then didst thou, or yet wilt, set thyself 
 in good earnest to su})plicate, and cry mightily for pardon- 
 ing and heart-renewing grace. Where is no hope, there 
 can be no prayer ; this posture of soul thou hast been 
 wrought up to, or wilt l)e, if ever thou be reconciled. 
 H(^pe gives life and breath to prayer, and prayer to peace 
 and friendship with God. Wlien God promises to take 
 away the stony heart, and give the new one, the heart of 
 flesh ; he declares that even for this he will be inquired of, 
 and sought unto, E^ek. xxxvi, 26, 37. Nor doth the soul, 
 when hope of mercy, according to God's word and pro- 
 mise, gives it vent, breathe faint breath in prayer ; but the 
 whole heart is engaged, all the powers of the soul are put 
 into a fervent motion. Despair stupifies, hope fills the soul 
 with vigour ; the favour of God is sought, not with cold 
 indifterency, but as that wherein stands thy life (Ps. xxx. 5), 
 and which is better than life (Ps. Ixiii. 3), without it, can 
 be. But then, whereas tlie gospel under which thou livest 
 informs thee that God cannot be approached by a sinful 
 
262 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 creature, as men are, and as tlioii must OAvn thyself to be^ 
 but through Christ, the only Mediator between God and 
 men ; and that thou canst not approach him in and by 
 Christ, if thou be not in him. 
 
 7. Thou art hereupon led to Christ, and brought to 
 receive him with all thy heart and soul (John, i. 12, Rom. 
 X. 10), and to resign and give thyself up wholly to him 
 (2 Cor. viii. 5), not knowing in thy distress, what to do 
 with thyself, and he compassionately inviting thee, thou 
 weary, heavy laden soul, come unto me, and I will give 
 thee rest (Matt. xi. 28), and assuring thee, that whosoever 
 Cometh unto him, he will in nowise cast out, John, vi. 37. 
 Thou thereupon with a humble, thankful, willing heart, art 
 brought to comply with his merciful offer, acceptest him 
 and yieldest up thyself, no more to be thy own, but his ; and 
 thus believing in his name, thou ownest him in his office, 
 as the great peace-maker between God and thee. 
 
 8. "Whereupon thou hast been brought to apply thyself, 
 through Christ, to the blessed God, and humbly to take hold 
 of his covenant, Isa. Ivi. 2, Thou hast come to God the 
 Judge of all, having come to Jesus the Mediator of the new 
 covenant, Heb. xii. 23, 24. And been enabled to covenant 
 with him, according to what he himself hath declared to 
 be the purport and sum and substance of his covenant ; that 
 is, if thou art reconciled, thou hast taken him to be thy 
 only God, thy supreme and sovereign good, thy chief and 
 only satisfying portion (Ps. xvi. 5, 6), whom thou art most 
 pleasantly to enjoy, and in Avhom thou art to take highest 
 delight, above all things in heaven or earth (Ps. Ixxiii. 25), 
 and whom thou art to believe willing, according to this 
 covenant, to do for thee, in outward and temporal respects, 
 what he judges fittest and best ; and for thy soul, in his 
 own way and method, all that is requisite for thy present 
 support, and future blessedness. And to be thy supreme 
 and sovereign Ruler and Lord, whom thou art to thy 
 uttermost to please, serve, fear, obey, and glorify above all 
 other. And to whom thou must reckon it belongs, accord- 
 ing to this covenant, to forgive thy iniquities ; and hy it 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 263 
 
 as well as by natural right, to govern and dispose of thee 
 in all thy thoughts, actions, inclinations, and affairs, accord- 
 ing to his own holy will. And thou givest up thyself 
 absolutely and entirely to him, to be of his people, to be 
 taught and ruled by him. This is the covenant which in thy 
 baptism thy parents, who had nearest natural relation to 
 thee, entered into for thee (as children do, in their parents, 
 stand obliged to the government under which they live) ; 
 but which, when thou art come to use an understanding of 
 thy own, thou art to enter into with the great God, for thy- 
 self (as persons come to a certain age of maturity, are called 
 to avow their allegiance to their secular rulers.) And because 
 it is made with sinners, such as had been in rebellion, 
 against the Majesty of heaven, and therefore by a mediator, 
 and by sacrifice ; it is therefore a covenant of reconciliation, 
 and the sacrifice by which it is made, is a propitiation or a 
 reconciling sacrifice. If therefore Christ hath reconciled 
 thee to God, or if ever thou shalt be reconciled, this 
 covenant must pass between him and thee ; this is to come 
 into the history of his dealings with thy soul. And it 
 ought to be with thee a great solemnity, and to fill thy soul 
 with a wondering joy, that the great God, whom thou hadst 
 so highly offended, should ever vouchsafe to covenant with 
 thee a sinful worm ! But because the manner of this 
 covenanting is so fully set down, by Mr Jose[)li AJk-ii, in 
 a little treatise called "Self- dedication," and in another of 
 " Yielding Oui-selves to God," I shall not further enlarge 
 upon it here. 
 
 9. If thou be reconciled, the frame and bent of thy soul 
 is so far altered and changed, that thy carnal mind is 
 become, in a prevailing degree, spiritual ; and thy worldly 
 heart is taken off, in a like measure, from this present 
 world, and set njjon God and heaven. For the carnal 
 mind is enmity against God, and they that love this world, 
 the love of the Father is not in them ; and he that will be a 
 friend of this world, is the enemy of God, Rom. viii. 7 ; 
 iJohn, ii. 15 ; Jam. iv. 4. But canst thou be reconciled, 
 and still be an enemy 1 And how canst thou not be an 
 
264 or RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 enemy, when not in this or that single act only, but in the 
 main bent and frame of thy soul, thou resistest his will, 
 and in thy whole course walkest contrary to him ] 
 
 10. If thy reconciliation to God have been brought about, 
 there must be suitable walking afterwards, which includes 
 two things. — 1. Amity must be continued, that is, there 
 n?ust be a very great care that there may be no new breach. 
 2. There must be much uneasiness of spirit, if there 
 have been a new breach, till it be composed and made up 
 again. 
 
 1. Where there is a thorough reconciliation, amity must 
 be continued, care taken of giving any new offence, or the 
 making any new breach, by not doing what will displease, 
 and by a friendly intercourse continued and kept up. For 
 there may be a new breach, or a new offence may be given 
 again, either of these ways ; either by breaking out into 
 any fresh quarrel or contentions, or by breaking off friendly 
 intercourse. As if there have been a war between two 
 nations, when a firm peace is made, there ensues both a 
 ceasing from hostilities, and free commerce ; so if thou hast 
 made peace with God, and hast entered into a league and 
 covenant of reconciliation with him, thou must take great 
 care, to thy uttermost, to sin no more ; not deliberately to 
 do any thing, that thou knowest will displease him. Thou 
 must say, as is said in Job, xxxiv. 32. If I have done 
 iniquity, I will do so no more. And again, thou must take 
 great heed of growing strange to him, of giving over, or of 
 becoming slack or cold in thy converse with him ; for when 
 he inquires, " Can two walk together if they be not agreed ?" 
 he thereby intimates, that if they be agreed, it is that they 
 may walk together. And it is to be considered, that in the 
 text the unreconciled state consists, not only in the enmity 
 of the mind by Avicked works, but also in being alienated 
 from him, or strange to him ; by either Avhereof thou givest 
 him also cause of just offence, even after reconciliation. 
 
 2. But if thou findest thou hast made a new breach, 
 either of these ways, by doing any thing that thou didst 
 apprehend to be displeasing to him, or by estranging thy- 
 
OF KECOKCILIATION BETAVEEN GOD AND MAN. 2G5 
 
 self from him, there must he an uneasiness in thy spirit, 
 and thou must he restless, till it he composed and made 
 up again. This is walking suitahly to a reconciled state, 
 to resolve with thyself, upon any new offence, not to give 
 sleep to thy eyes, nor slumher to thy eyelids, till thou have 
 humhled thyself hcfore thy God, and sought his pardon, 
 by faith in the blood of his Son ; with a resolution, in de- 
 pendence on his grace and Spirit, to walk more carefully 
 and more closely with him in thy future course, account- 
 ing always that in his'favour islife. Such things as these, 
 if thou be reconciled to God, will compose and make up 
 thy story of it. Such a narrative thou couldst give of it 
 thyself, upon recollection, or at least, when thou readest 
 it thus put down to thy hand, thou canst say these 
 things thou hast found God hath wrought and done in 
 thee. Though perhaps they may not have come into 
 thy mind in the same order wherein they are here set 
 down, which is less material, if thou canst truly say such 
 workings as these thou hast really felt in thine own heart, 
 while God was dealing ^\itll thee, for the bringing about 
 this reconciliation. But if this work he not yet done, if it 
 is yet to be done, then know such stages as these thou 
 must pass through. And thou art to be restless in thy 
 spirit, while thou canst yet say, such and such of these 
 things are still wanting in me ; I have not yet found them, 
 my heart agrees not in such and such points with this nar- 
 rative ; I can give no such account of myself. But wait 
 and strive, in hope that thou shalt yet find them, if thou 
 persist, and do not grow negligent and indifferent, whether 
 any such reconciliation to God he effected in thee or no. 
 And when thou hast found it, then art thou led to consider, 
 in the next place, 
 
 2- God's reconciliation to thee ; and inquire what that 
 includes and carries in it. But here now, because his part 
 lies in himself, and may for some time have no discernible 
 effects upon thy soul ; therefore the account hereof is not 
 to be carried on in the way of the history, as the other 
 might. It is doctrinally written in his own word, and so 
 
266 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 is the matter of thy faith, not of thy present sense, as the 
 other is. But as it is indefinitely propounded in his word, 
 so it ouglit to be firmly believed, and without wavering, as 
 a sure part of the true and faithful sayings of God, who is 
 truth itself, and cannot deceive nor be deceived. And it 
 ought to be believed, with particular application to thyself, 
 that thus and thus he bears himself towards thee, as thy 
 reconciled God ; according as thou findest thy own soul 
 thus truly reconciled to him. For though thy reconciliation 
 to him be no cause of his reconciliation to thee, yet it is 
 a most certain evidence of it. Otherwise, 
 
 1. You would be beforehand with him in love, when as 
 his word expressly says, he loves us first, 1 John, iv. 19. 
 
 2. It would be true, that he made us love him, having 
 himself no love to us ; when as the same word says, we 
 love him, because he first loved us ; viz, with that com- 
 passionate love whereof you formerly heard. 
 
 3. You would hereupon outdo him in point of love, and 
 be better affected towards him than he is towards you. 
 
 4. If any could be reconciled to God, and yet God not 
 be reconciled to them, and they die in that state, it would 
 be possible there might be lovers of God in hell. And 
 what can be more absurd in itself ? or more contrary to 
 the plain word of God, that hath said, the things which 
 eye hath not seen are prepared for them that love God 
 (1 Cor. ii. 9), and that he hath promised the crown of life 
 to them that love him. Jam. i. 12. All which you cannot 
 but apprehend to be intolerable absurdities, and they would 
 all follow, if upon such grounds as have been mentioned 
 you should apprehend yourself to be reconciled to him, 
 and yet disbelieve his being reconciled to you. Therefore 
 having so sure a ground, upon which to apprehend he is 
 reconciled to you, when you find you are reconciled to 
 him ; let it now be considered what his reconciliation to 
 you imports. Wherein, as in all that follows, I shall be 
 very brief ; that this part be not too unproportionable in 
 bulk to the former gone out before it. And here two 
 things in the general must be understood to be included 
 
OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 267 
 
 in God's being reconciled to us — 1. His forgiving to us 
 all the sins of our former state of enmity against him : 2. 
 His receiving us into a state of amity and friendship with 
 him. How great things are both these ! And if you can- 
 not as yet with certainty conclude that you are reconciled 
 to God, as thereupon to have a present assurance of his 
 having thus forgiven, and accepted you ; yet you are how- 
 ever to apprehend both these as most certainly belonging 
 to their state, who are reconciled to him, so as to make 
 you most earnestly to covet, and endeavour to get into that 
 state ; as perceiving how desirable a thing it is to have the 
 eternal God no longer an enemy to you, but your friend. 
 
 1. Therefore you must apprehend God's being reconciled 
 to you, includes his forgiving you all the sins of your for- 
 mer state, wherein you lived in enmity against him. And 
 of how vast compass and extent is his mercy towards you 
 herein ! when you consider what you were doing, and what 
 manner of life you led all that time ; always sinning from 
 morning to night, either by acting against him, or by not 
 living with him, and to him ! not minding him, not fearing 
 him, standing in no awe of him, never aiming to please, or 
 serve, or glorif}^ him in any thing you did, as if you were 
 made for yourself, and not for him ! And that your dis- 
 obedience to him, your neglects of him, were all summed 
 up in enmity ! And how monstrous a thing it was to be 
 an enemy, a hater of the ever blessed God I And to have 
 all this forgiven ! So his own word plainly speaks : Let 
 the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his 
 thoughts, and turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy 
 upon him, and to our God, and he will abundantly pardon, 
 Isa. Iv. 7. 
 
 And here you must understand aright what sort of par- 
 don and forgiveness that is, when God is said to forgive ; 
 which you must conceive of, by considering what sort of 
 enmity yours was against him. The case is not as between 
 equals, falling out and forgiving one another ; but your 
 enmity was that of an offending inferior and subject, rebel- 
 ling against your sovereign, rightful Lord, who hath both 
 
268 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 right and power to punish you. And then think how ter- 
 rible punishment you deserved, and were liable to ! even 
 an everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord 
 and from the glory of his power, 2 Thess. i. 9. Whereupon 
 consider what it signifies for him to forgive you : and see 
 now whether you do not savour those words, Blessed is 
 the man ; or whether the sense of your case do not make 
 you cry out, as those words may be read, the blessed- 
 nesses of him, whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin 
 is covered ! the blessednesses of him, to whom the Lord 
 doth not impute iniquity ! Of how mighty a load must it 
 ease and disburden thy soul, to have thy offended Lord 
 say to thee, Thou hast been sinning against me hitherto all 
 thy days, when I have been all thy days doing thee good ; 
 thou hast done evilly against me as thou couldst, slighted 
 my authority and despised my mercy ; I could plead my 
 rebukes against thee, with flames of fire ; if I should whet 
 my glittering sword, and my hand take hold of vengeance, 
 how soon could I ease myself of so feeble an adversary, and 
 avenge myself of so contemptible an enemy ! But I for- 
 give thee : now upon thy repenting and turning to me 
 with thy whole soul, I forgive thy ungodly prayerless life, 
 thy having been alienated and an enemy in thy mind by 
 wicked works. I forgive it to thee all ! Thy iniquity is 
 all pardoned, thy sin covered, I no more impute any thing 
 of it to thee. AVhat rock would not this melt ! what stony 
 heart would it not dissolve, and break in pieces ! And 
 what ! canst thou now be any longer an unreconciled 
 enemy, to such a sin-pardoning God 1 Consider here more 
 particularly, — the properties and consequences of this for- 
 giveness. 
 
 1 . The properties of it, as that, 
 
 1. It is most compassionate, an act of tender mercy and 
 pity ; so says his own word : I will be merciful to their 
 unrighteousness, Heb. viii, 12. In his love and pity he 
 redeemed, and he bare them, Isa. Ixiii. 9. And being full 
 of compassion, he forgave theii- iniquity, Ps. Ixxviii. 38. 
 For he remembered they were but flesh, ver. 39. 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AN1> MAN. 269 
 
 2. It is perfectly free, and of mere grace. We are justi- 
 fied freely by his grace, Rom. iii. 24. He invites sinners 
 to come to him, even without money and without price, 
 Isa. Iv. 1. A great price indeed hath been paid, but by 
 another hand, as we shall shew when we come to the 
 second head, the way wherein our Lord effects this recon- 
 ciliation, in the body of his flesh through death. But no 
 price is expected from us, he doth it for his own sake, as 
 Isa. xliii. 25, 
 
 3. It is full and entire. And that both in respect of the 
 object, the sin forgiven : All manner of sin (that can be 
 repented of) shall be forgiven unto men, Matt. xii. 31. I 
 will pardon all their iniquities, whereby they have sinned 
 against me, Jer. xxxiii. 8. And in respect of the act of 
 forgiving, it shall be so full as to leave no displeasure 
 behind : for (as he speaks) I, even I am he that blotteth out 
 thy iniquities, and there is not so much as a remembrance 
 left ; I will not remember thy sins, Isa. xliii. 25. Their 
 sins and their iniquities will I remember no more, Heb. 
 viii. 12. 
 
 4. 'Tis often repeated. He being full of compassion 
 forgave their iniquity — yea many a time turned he his 
 anger away, Ps. Ixxviii. 38. 
 
 2. The consequences of this forgiveness. 
 
 1. Cessation of all acts, that have either destruction for 
 their end, or enmity for their principle. In the very cove- 
 nant of reconciliation, God reserves to himself a liberty of 
 chastening his reconciled ones ; yea the case requiring it, 
 he not only reserves the liberty, but takes upon him an 
 obligation hereunto. For he expressly declares, that if 
 his children forsake his law, and walk not in his judg- 
 ments ; then he will visit their transgression with a rod, 
 and their iniquities with stripes ; but that, nevertheless, he 
 will not utterly take away his loving-kindness, nor suffer 
 his faithfulness to fail, nor break his covenant, Ps. Ixxxix. 
 31-34, implying that otherwise his faithfulness would 
 fail, and his covenant were broken on his i)art. And there- 
 fore when he deals not with a people upon covenant terms, 
 
270 OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 l)ut as cast-aways, and as people given up, he declares : I 
 will not punish your daughters, Hos. iv. 14. And why 
 should they be smitten any more 1 Isa. i. 5. And they 
 themselves o\^ti ; It was good for them to have been 
 afflicted, Psal, cxix. 71, and that he had done it in very 
 faithfulness, ver. 75. And his correcting them is signified 
 not only to consist with love, but to proceed from it ; for 
 'tis said, whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, Heb. xii. 
 
 And those afflictions are properly punitive, as they import 
 warning to others ; but not vindictive, as tending to the 
 destniction of themselves ; but corrective, as intending 
 their own amendment, besides warning to others, which 
 also those that are destructive might do. But these afflic- 
 tive strokes upon his own, as they intend warning to others, 
 have the general nature of punishment in them. But they 
 differ in their sj^ecial kind, as being to themselves correc- 
 tive only, not destructive or vindictive. But upon the 
 whole^ when once he is reconciled to you, he no longer 
 treats you as enemies ; if sometimes he see cause to afflict 
 his own, he smites them not as he smites those that smote 
 them, Isa. xxvii. 7. Your carriage doth not always please 
 him, therefore 'tis not strange, if his dealings do not always 
 please you ; but after forgiveness he intends your real and 
 final hurt no more. 
 
 2. A second consequent of God's forgiving you all your 
 sins, is his seasonable manifestation hereof to you. He may 
 have forgiven you, and not judge it seasonable suddenly to 
 make it known to you : he may judge it fit to hold you, 
 some time, in suspense. And when by his grace he hath 
 enabled you to exercise repentance towards God, and faith 
 in our Lord Jesus Christ, whereupon you are in a pardoned 
 state ; you may yet sometime remain in doubt, whether 
 you were sincere herein or no. And may not on a sudden 
 put you out of doubt, but keep you a while in a waiting 
 posture ; as that which is more suitable to his own majesty 
 and greatness, and to your own infirm and less established 
 condition. He waits to be gracious, and is exalted even in 
 shewing mercy, for he is a God of judgment, and doth shew 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 271 
 
 mercy judiciously, -vvlien lie judges it the fittest season ; 
 therefore are they blessed that wait for him, Isa. xxx. 18. 
 Assurance is the privilege not of all his children, hut of 
 them that are come to a more grown stature ; but in the 
 mean time he sustains you, by hope in his mercy, and lets 
 not your heart sink within you. And when he sees it fit, 
 lets you know he hath accepted the atonement for you, 
 which he hath enabled you to receive ; and speaks that 
 peace to you, which is the fruit of his lips, and which he 
 only, by speaking it inw^ardly to your heart, can create ; 
 that peace which passes all understanding, Isa. Ivii. 18 ; 
 Phil. iv. 7, and which belongs to his kingdom in you ; with 
 joy in the Holy Ghost, w^hen once the foundation is laid in 
 righteousness, Rom. xiv. 17. 
 
 2. This reconciliation, on God's part, not only includes 
 the forgiveness of your former enmity, with all the sins of 
 that fearful state Avherein j'ou then were ; but also his 
 receiving you into a state of amity and friendship with 
 himself. And this you are to take for a great addition 
 to the former. A prince may pardon to a malefactor a 
 capital crime, spare his forfeited life and estate ; and yet 
 not take him for a favourite and a friend. But when the 
 blessed God forgives his enemies, he also takes them for his 
 friends ; though those are d'stinct things, yet they are 
 most closely conjunct ; he always adds this latter to the 
 former. 
 
 Abraham was called the friend of God, Isa. xli. 8, i. e. 
 not only in the active sense, as now bearing a friendly 
 mind towards God ; but in the passive sense also, as now 
 God hath a friendly mind towards him. And upon what 
 account ? Some may think Abraham being a person of 
 eminent sanctity, this may be said of him only upon that 
 peculiar account. But see how the matter must be under- 
 stood, from what we find. Jam. ii. 23. Abraham believed 
 God, and it was imputed to him for righteousness, and he 
 was called the friend of God ; this is spoken of him, not as 
 an eminent saint only, but under the common notion of a 
 believer ; so that the same thing is truly to be said of every 
 
272 OF RECONCILIATION^ BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 one that believes, with a justifying faith. So saith our 
 Saviour to his disciples in common : Ye are my friends, if 
 3'e do whatsoever I command you, John, xv. 14. And — I 
 have called you friends ; for all things that I have heard of 
 my Father I have made known unto you (ver. 15), which 
 signifies his own fi'iendly mind to them. And now con- 
 sider what this friendliness towards them includes. It 
 must include, 
 
 1. Love, which is the very soul of friendship. So our 
 Saviour expresses his oa\ti friendliness towards them that 
 are his : As my Father hath loved me, so have I loved 
 you ; continue ye in my love, ver, 9. And the height of 
 that love, ver. 13, Greater love than that hath no man, that 
 a man should lay down his life for his friends ; though 'tis 
 elsewhere further heightened, from our having been sinners 
 and enemies, Rom. v. 8, 10 ; though it was then in view to 
 him what he designed to make of them, viz. friends 
 to him too. And so his friendship must signify further, 
 not love merely, but also after-reconciliation, there men- 
 tioned, ver. 10. 
 
 2. A delightful, complacential love. For such is the 
 love of friends, a love of delight, which they take in one 
 another ; as if he had said, " Now I have overcome you, 
 and won your hearts, I love you with that pleasantness, 
 that delightful love, which is proper to the state of friend- 
 ship." So such friends are spoken to. Cant. ii. 14. my 
 dove, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice, 
 for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance comely : and 
 that book abounds with expressions of that import : Thou 
 hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse. How fair 
 is my love ! chap. iv. 7, 9, 10, &c. But besides what this 
 friendship, as such, or as it hath in it the general notion of 
 friendship, includes ; consider farther some particularities 
 belonging to this friendship, as, 
 
 1. How infinitely condescending it is on God's part. 
 That the high and lofty One, who inhabits eternity, who 
 hath infinite fulness in himself, and could with delight live 
 alone to all eternity, as he did from all eternity, that he 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 273 
 
 should vouchsafe to take from among his own creatures, 
 such as he would make friends of ; how admirable ! much 
 more of such creatures, apostate revolted creatures, impure 
 and vile creatures ! such as he hath so much to do upon, 
 to make them kind and holy, that they might be capable of 
 his fi'iendship ! 
 
 According to the usual measures of friendship, 'tis with 
 those that are like, yea with equals. How tratisporting 
 should it be to thy soul, that the great God should enter- 
 tain and strike such a fi'iendship with thee, so vile, so 
 rebellious and abject as thou wast ! Solomon speaks of it 
 as a wonderful thing, and even exceeding all belief, that 
 God should dwell (which dwelling signifies friendly so- 
 ciety), saith he. In very deed will God dwell with men ! 
 such creatures as men are now become ! and with men on 
 earth ! in this their low and mean state, and on this narrow, 
 little, base spot ; when even the bright and spacious 
 heavens, yea the heaven of heavens, cannot contain him, 
 2 Chron. vi. 18. How wonderful a thing is this ! and 
 even surpassing all wonders ! Is it after the manner of men ? 
 how far, herein, are his ways above our ways, and his 
 thoughts above our thoughts ! even as the heavens are above 
 the earth, Isa. Iv. 8. Consider, 
 
 2. How beneficial this his friendship to us is ! Many 
 fri'^nds can only wish well to one another, have neither 
 wisdom nor power really to befriend them ; but his fiiend- 
 ship is most bonoficial to tliem on whom 'tis placed, having 
 all-sufficient fulness in himself to counsel, to support, to 
 relieve, to supply them as the matter shall require. 
 
 3. How conversable he is with these his friends, being, 
 
 1. Always present. One may have a wise and potent 
 fi lend, but perhaps he is far off when there is greatest need 
 of him. 
 
 2. Being intimately present, with our minds and spirits. 
 The Lord Jesus be with thy spirit, 2 Tim. iv. 22. He can 
 be always so. The most inward friends, among men, can 
 have no immediate access to one another's spirits ; but this 
 
274 OP RECONCILTATIOX BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 is the peculiar advantage of this friend, that he can enter 
 into our very souls ; nothing is shut up from him. 
 
 4. How constant is God's friendship ! He loves with an 
 everlasting love, and to the end (Jer. xxxi. 3 ; Isa. liv. 8 ; 
 John,xiii. 1), when other fi-iendships are upon slight grounds, 
 easily, and often broken off. Thus far we have seen what 
 this mutual recollection imports, on our part, towards 
 God ; and on God's part towards us. We now come to 
 consider, 
 
 2. The way wherein our Lord Jesus Christ, the Media- 
 tor between God and us, brings about this reconciliation ; 
 viz. In the body of his flesh through death. The same 
 thing is expressed in the 20th verse, by his making ^.eace 
 by the blood of his cross, or his shedding his blood on the 
 cross. The meaning of both expressions is, that he brought 
 about this reconciliation, by suffering death for us upon 
 the cross. Now because this reconciliation, as you have 
 heard, includes both God's reconciliation to us, and our 
 reconciliation to God ; and that both are effected by his 
 dying upon the cross for us ; we are to shew how each of 
 these are brought about this way. 
 
 1 . How God's reconciliation to us is wrought, by Chi-ist 
 dying for us. You may say, why was this the means of 
 reconciling God to us 1 for you may think with yourselves, 
 if God had a mind to be reconciled to sinners, could he 
 not have been so, without letting his Son die for it ? There 
 are, indeed, difficulties in this matter, which are not fit 
 to be brought into such a discourse as this ; but I shall 
 here say nothing about it but what is plain, and easy to 
 be understood. 
 
 1. You can easily apprehend, that God saw it was 
 necessary his Son should die, in order to the saving of 
 sinners ; for who can think he would ever have con- 
 sented to the death of his most beloved Son, if he had 
 not seen it necessary ? Therefore you must conclude it was 
 necessary, whether you discern the reasons upon which it 
 was so or no. 
 
 2. You can easily apprehend that the sins of men de- 
 
OF RECONCILIATION EETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 2/5 
 
 served eternal death, and that God threatened them with 
 eternal death accordingly ; for what death but eternal death 
 can that be, which is opposed to eternal or everlasting life l 
 (Rom. V. 21 ; vi. 23), and which is executed upon all that 
 are not reconciled, according to the sentence of the last 
 judgment, Matt. xxv. ult. 
 
 3. You cannot but know that there were sacrifices under 
 the law of Moses, appointed to make atonement for sin, and 
 that without shedding of blood there could be no remission, 
 Heb. ix. 22. 
 
 4. 'Tis easy to be understood, that the blood of those 
 sacrifices could not take away sin, as is expressly said (Heb. 
 X. 4), and therefore that they could not otherwise signify 
 any thing, to the taking it away, than as they were types 
 and shadows of that great sacrifice, that once for all was 
 to be offered up for that purpose. Once in, or towards the 
 end of, the world hath he appeared, to put away sin by 
 the sacrifice of himself, Heb. ix. 26, 
 
 5. You can understand that as this could never have 
 been, without the consent of the Father and the Son ; so 
 by their consent it might be, that the innocent might suffer 
 for the guilty : as one may be bound, body for body, for 
 another. 
 
 6. And it is plain they did consent ; God so loved the 
 world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever 
 believeth in him might not perish, but have life everlast- 
 ing, John, iii. 16. And our Lord Jesus Christ himself 
 says, no man could take his life from him, i. e. against his 
 will, for he could have twelve legions of angels to defend 
 it; but he did lay it down (John, x. 18), and gave his life 
 a ransom for many. Matt. xx. 28. 
 
 7. So it came to pass that our Lord Jesus suffered once, 
 the just for the unjust, to bring us to God, 1 Pet. iii. 18. 
 And he was made sin for us who knew no sin, that we 
 might be the righteousness of God in him. 
 
 8. And hcreujjon when God is reconciled to sinners, he 
 doth not only forgive them, but he justifies them, there 
 being an ecpal recompense made to him j but of his own 
 
276 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 providing, and therefore to us it is most free, though it was 
 very costly to Christ. So both these expressions, of the 
 same thing, are put together : We are justified freely by 
 liis grace, through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ, 
 whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith 
 in his blood, to declare his righteousness in the remission 
 of sins — that God might be just, and the justifier of them 
 that believe in Jesus, Rom. iii. 24, 26. 
 
 9. Thus God becomes reconciled to sinful men (not to 
 every one, but to them that sincerely repent and believe), 
 in a just; regular, and orderly way, most becoming his 
 excellent Majesty. For though he forgive sinners, that 
 had affronted him, and rebelled against him ; yet it is not 
 without a sacrifice, and that of his own Son, a sacrifice of 
 infinite value ; most becoming his grace and mercy, for 
 that sacrifice was of his own providing. Most becoming 
 his justice, for though sin be forgiven, it is punished too ; 
 forgiven to us, but punished in his own Son, who consented 
 to bear our sins in his own body on the tree, 3. Pet. ii. 24. 
 Most becoming the truth of his word, for, as that said, 
 without shedding of blood there could be no remission ; the 
 most precious blood was shed that ever was, in order to our 
 remission. Most becoming Ins infinite wisdom, that found 
 out this way of answering all purposes ; that both he might 
 be glorified in the highest degree, and yet sinners be saved. 
 Grace hath herein abounded in all wisdom and prudence, 
 Eph. i. 6-8. 
 
 2. We come now (having thus far seen how Christ's 
 dying on the cross works God's reconciliation to us) to shew 
 also how it brings about our reconciliation to God. And 
 here you may observe, we changed the method of speaking 
 to this two-fold reconciliation, considered in itself, and as 
 the effect of Christ's death. For though God is not actually 
 reconciled to us before he hath disposed our hearts to a 
 reconciliation unto him ; yet the foundation of his being 
 reconciled to us, is first laid in the death of his Son, or in 
 the prospect and foresight of it ; before there can be any 
 disposition on our parts to such a reconciliation. And that 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 277 
 
 being done, and it being thereby seen what this great sacri- 
 fice signifies to his being reconciled, whensoever that shall 
 lie ; it comes, in the proper order, next to be considered 
 which way it works, to bring about our reconciliation also. 
 And it works, in order hereto, these two ways : — 
 
 1. By preparing the ground of preaching the gospel of 
 reconciliation, or of Christ crucified ; which must first be, 
 or have been resolved on, before there could he any gospel 
 to reveal it. In this gospel Christ is set forth as a propi- 
 tiation through faith in his blood, Rom. iii. 25. And this 
 is the proper and most apt means to work upon thy heart, 
 sinner, to persuade thee to be reconciled to God. Looking 
 upon him whom thou hast pierced, is that thou may est 
 mourn over him, Zech. xii. 10. What should so melt and 
 overcome thy heart, and make thee yield to the terms of 
 reconciliation ? But he must be represented, that he may 
 be looked upon ; and therefore is the preaching of Christ 
 crucified, unto them that are called, the power of God, and 
 the wisdom of God (1 Cor. i. 23, 24), the most powerful 
 and the wisest method ; and which God hath thought fittest 
 to win souls, and reconcile them to himself. Therefore it 
 is reckoned no less than a witchery, if they obey not the 
 gospel, who have Christ set forth before their eyes, as cru- 
 cified among them (Gal. iii. 1), which setting forth could 
 not be otherwise, than in the gospel representation. For 
 you know Christ was not actually crucified in Galatia, but 
 at Jerusalem ; therefore, saith our Lord himself. But I, if I 
 be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me, 
 John, xii, 32. This was said (as it follows), signifying 
 what death he should die, i. e. by being crucified. And 
 this, supposing a due representation of him in the gospel, 
 was in point of means to draw all men. But it could only 
 be sufficient, as a means ; when yet it could not be a means 
 sufficient, if there were not an agent able to use it to that 
 purpose. Therefore, 
 
 2. Our Redeemer's dying upon the cross did work to- 
 wards our reconciliation, by procuring the Spirit to be 
 given, in order to the making this most apt means efFee- 
 
278 OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 tual to this end. And if this sacrifice of Christ on the cross 
 was necessary to the obtaining forgiveness of sins, it was, 
 at least, equally necessary to obtain the giving of the Spirit, 
 without which all the rest were in vain. When Christ had 
 died to reconcile both (i. e. Jew and Gentile) in one body, 
 by the cross, having slain the enmity thereby ; and there- 
 upon preached peace to them that were afar off, and to 
 them that were nigh ; yet it was still necessary that by 
 one Spirit both should have access to the Father ; other- 
 wise they would never come at him, they would still, with 
 implacable hearts, have kept at a distance. Therefore look- 
 ing upon a crucified Christ would never have had this 
 effect, to make them mourn over him, whom they had 
 pierced ; if the Spirit of grace and supplication were not 
 poured forth, Zech. xii. 10. They would with hard hearts 
 have gazed long enough on this doleful spectacle, far 
 enough from mourning ; if the Spirit of Christ were not 
 poured forth, as well as his blood. 
 
 And do we think that holy and pure Spirit would ever 
 have been poured forth, on so impure and unholy souls, 
 if the precious blood of that invaluable sacrifice had not 
 been poured forth to procure it 1 Those words of the 
 apostle make this plain (Gal. iii. 13, 14), Christ hath 
 redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse 
 for us (for cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree), that 
 the blessing of Abraham might reach further, come upon the 
 Gentiles ; that they might receive the promise of the Spirit 
 through faith. Or in their being made to believe the ever- 
 blessed One was so far made a curse, that you might be 
 capable of this blessing ; and by it have your own enmity 
 overcome, and your reconciliation brought about. There - 
 fore doth our Lord direct us to pray for the Spirit, assuring 
 us our heavenly Father will give that Holy Spirit to them 
 that ask him (Luke, xi. 13), as well knowing, his pouring 
 forth his blood had deserved it should not any longer be an 
 enclosed blessing ; but which might be communicated to 
 Jew and Gentile, and in his way and season be poured out 
 on all flesh. Thus doth our Lord, in the body of his flesh 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 279 
 
 through death, work out this two-fold reconciliation, both 
 of God to you, and of you to God. 
 
 And now the use follows, which must have reference 
 hoth, — 1. To the mutual reconciliation itself. You hath he 
 now reconciled ; and — 2. To the way wherein our Lord 
 Jesus brings it about. In the body of his flesh through deatli. 
 The use we shall make of the former will be two-fold 
 (according as this reconciliationitself is two-fold, viz. God's 
 reconciliation to us, and our reconciliation to God), viz. to 
 persuade us from sundry considerations, — 
 
 1. To believe God's reconcilableness to us. — 2. To be 
 willing, hereupon, to be actually and speedily reconciled to 
 him. And the use which is only now intended to be made 
 of the latter, is to draw from it divers additional considera- 
 tions, by which to enforce and give further strength to both 
 those mentioned exhortations. 
 
 1. For the use of the former, the doctrine of the reconci- 
 liation itself. Inasmuch as we have shewn that it contains 
 reconciliation, on God's part towards us, and on our part 
 towards God, we must understand, 
 
 I. That God's reconciliation is asserted here, to the 
 persons whom the apostle now mentions ; and whom he 
 had before described as converts, saints faithful in Christ 
 (ch. i. 1), that Christ had reconciled them, i. e. restored them 
 into a state of grace, favour, and acceptance, though they 
 had been alienated, and enemies in their minds. There- 
 fore, if when they become saints, faithful, &c. God was 
 reconciled to them ; while they were yet in their state of 
 enmity, he was reconcilable. The plain use to be made 
 of this is, that we be persuaded to believe God's recon- 
 cilableness to sinners, offending creatures, such as had 
 been strangers to him, and enemies ; whatsoever bar was 
 in the way, is so far removed (as we shall shew from the 
 second head) that he can be reconciled to such enemies, 
 and will actually be so, whensoever they turn to him. This, 
 sinner, is the sum of the gospel, which thou art to believe 
 upon sundry considerations, which have their ground 
 here ; as, 
 
280 OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 1. This gospel could never be intended for these only, 
 to whom the apostle now writes. Can we think there was 
 one gospel meant for Colossians, and another, or none at 
 all, for Englishmen ? Yea, when the apostle himself was 
 converted and obtained mercy, it w^as for a pattern to them 
 that should hereafter believe, 1 Tim. i. 16. You have the 
 same warrant to believe, that turning to God and believing 
 on his Son, God will be reconciled to you as he was to them. 
 
 2. This is the gospel which God hath ever declared to 
 the world, without accepting any person, wheresoever his 
 written word hath come (Isa. Iv.), Ho, every one that 
 thirsteth, come to the w^aters, even he that hath no money, 
 come without money, and without price, ver. 1. Incline 
 your ear, and come to me, hear, and your souls shall 
 live ; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, 
 ver. 3. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous 
 man his thoughts, and turn to the Lord, and he will have 
 mercy ; to our God, and he will abundantly pardon. For 
 my ways are not as your ways, ver. 7, 8. So the tenor of 
 his word hath always run, " Turn to me, and I will turn to 
 you," 2 Chron. xxx. 6 ; Jer. iii. 12 ; Zech. i. 3 ; Mai. iii. 7. 
 And is it not to be believed ? 
 
 3. It is the gospel which he hath confirmed, by his own 
 solemn oath (as I live, saith the Lord), having plainly 
 propounded it (Ezek. xviii, 21, 22, 23, 31, 32.) He swears 
 to it (chap, xxxiii. 11), and wilt thou not yet believe him ? 
 
 4. When after the fulness of time, it was more expressly 
 revealed, that there could be no turning to God, but through 
 Christ ; this was the gospel which he himself preached 
 (Mark, i. 14, 15), and which, when he was leaving the 
 world, he required should be preached to all the world, 
 Mark, xvi. 15, 16. 
 
 5. It is given as the sum of all the counsel of God, Acts, 
 XX. 21. 
 
 6. It is the everlasting gospel, which is to continue 
 through all ages, as the stated means of regenerating and 
 renewing souls, 1 Pet. i. 23, 24, 25. 
 
 7. It is this gospel which God blesses, and makes effectual 
 
F RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 281 
 
 to this purpose. When, herein, the love and kindness of 
 God to men appear, then (not by works of righteousness 
 which they have done) but of his mercy he saves them by 
 the wasliing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy 
 Ghost, Tit. iii. 4, 5. Ilis mercy revealed, softens and 
 changes their hearts ; so that by the exceeding great and 
 precious promises, contained in this gospel, they are made 
 partakers of a divine nature, 2 Pet. i. 4. 
 
 8. But it is by believing it becomes effectual to any 
 blessed purpose. It is the power of God to salvation, to 
 every one that believes (Rom. i. 16), but to them that 
 believe it not, it is without power, and effects nothing. It 
 AA orks effectually on every one that believes (1 Thess. ii. 
 13), but hath no efficac}' when it is not believed. Much 
 people, believing, wei-e turned to the Lord (Acts, xi. 23), but 
 where there is no believing there is no turning. 
 
 9. Where it is not believed it hardens. We are there- 
 fore warned to take heed of the evil heart of unbelief, lest 
 we be hardened (Heb. iii. 12. 13), and are told those har- 
 dened ones that fell in tlie wilderness, were such as believed 
 not, and that could not enter into Canaan (the type of 
 heaven) because of unbelief (ver. 18, 19), and that the 
 gospel could not profit them because it was not mixed with 
 faith, chap. iv. 2. 
 
 10. It is in the same context mentioned, as a most pro- 
 voking wickedness, to disbelieve this gospel of his. That 
 sin was therefore said to be the provocation (Ileb. iii. 15), 
 and referring to the same time, the great God says ; How 
 long will this people provoke ? how long ere they believe 
 me ? (Numb. xiv. 11), when their not believing his willing- 
 ness to do better for them, than only to bestow upon them 
 an earthly Canaan, was their most provoking wickedness, 
 
 11. The not believing of this gospel of his, is understood 
 to be giving God the lie (1 Jolm, v. 10), as believing it is 
 setting to our seal that he is true, John, iii. 33. But what 
 inducement is it possible he can have to lie to his own 
 creatures, who is himself all-sufficient, and wlio hath them 
 absolutely in his power ? Or what man would lie for hang 
 
282 OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 sake, liaving no inducement ? It is therefore impossible for 
 God to lie, as being inconsistent with the universal perfee- 
 tions of his nature ; and therefore to impute falsehood to 
 him, is highest blasphemy. And after all this, sinner, darest 
 thou disbelieve God's reconcilableness to thee, upon his 
 own declared terms ; when here the whole business sticks, 
 of reconciliation between him and thee 1 But there are yet 
 other considerations to this purpose, to persuade thy belief 
 of God's reconcilableness to thee, from the 
 
 2. Head of discourse, the way of our Lord's bringing 
 about this reconciliation, viz. in the body of his flesh 
 through death. And here his reconcilableness must be 
 imderstood to signify two things :— the possibility of God's 
 being reconciled to sinners, — his willingness to be recon- 
 ciled. And the death q£ his Son upon the cross, in order 
 hereto, affords considerations to evince both. 
 
 1. The possibility of the thing, which this sacrifice 
 proves to be possible, because it makes it so. "iVhen the 
 apostb asserts, that without shedding of blood there is no 
 remission of sin (Heb, ix. 22), and that it was impossible 
 the blood of bulls and goats should take it away (ch. x. 4), 
 and that, therefore, our Lord came to take it away, in that 
 body prepared for him (ver. 5, 6), he therein implies it to 
 be impossible to be otherwise taken away, than by this 
 blood shed upon the cross ; nothing, indeed, being possible 
 to God, which becomes him not. And it became him not 
 otherwise to effect this design, and bring many sons to 
 glory, but by the sufferings of this his Son. It was, there- 
 fore, not possible upon other terms (Heb. ii. 10), but in this 
 way it was possible, upon the account of these several 
 things concurring : 
 
 1. The rich and infinite value and fulness of this sacri- 
 fice. The blood that was herein shed, and the life that was 
 laid down, though of a man, 3'et were the blood and life of 
 such a man as was also God (Acts, xx. 28 ; 1 John, iii. 16), 
 a man that was God's ov\ti fellow^, Zech. xiii. 7. As it was 
 God that was offended, so it was God that did satisfy for 
 the offence. 
 
OP RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 283 
 
 2. He Avas nearly allied to us, as a Redeemer ouglit to 
 be. Because we were partakers of flesh and blood, he took 
 part with us of the same (Ileb. ii. 14, 15) ; therefore, as man 
 did offend, man suffered for it. 
 
 3. He freely consented hei-cto, both to become man, and 
 to suffer for man, Phil. ii. 6-8 ; John, x. 18. 
 
 4. He had no sin of his own to suffer for, 2 Cor. v. 21, 
 and as many other Scriptures speak. 
 
 5. He was, by a special, divine law, commissioned here- 
 unto. Therefore his laying down his life, was in itself no 
 illegal act. He had power to lay down his life, having 
 received a commandment for it from the Father, John, x. 
 18. He came, having God's law, to this purpose, in his 
 heart, Psal. xl. 6-8. 
 
 6. He was fully accepted herein above, his sacrifice 
 having a sweet-smelling odour with it, unto God ; because 
 satisfying his justice, it made way for the free exercise of 
 his grace and love, Eph. v. 2, Therefore, sinner, canst thou 
 disbelieve or doubt the very possibility of God's being 
 reconciled to thee, upon his own declared terms ; when so 
 extraordinary a course was taken that he might be recon- 
 ciled ? 
 
 2. And thou hast as great reason to believe his willing- 
 ness to be reconciled, considering that this was consented 
 to on purpose. God so loved the world that he gave his 
 only-begotten Son, that Avhosoever believeth in him, might 
 not perish, John, iii. 16. Now consider, was his own 
 Son given for what he was not willing of 1 his only-begot- 
 ten Son ! his very image ! (Heb. i. 2) the Son of his 
 delights, always dear to him ! (Pro v. viii. 30) and who 
 was especially dear to him for this very reason ! John, x. 
 17. Yea, and that it was the very cry of his Idood from 
 the cross, forgive, forgive this repenting, believing 
 sinner, be reconciled to him, Father, for the sake of thy 
 dying Son ! And yet was he unwilling ? Wluit could 
 induce him who is love itself, to give up such a Son, to so 
 bitter, bloody, and ignominious sufferings, but his willing- 
 ness to l)e reconciled to sinners ? It were a blasphemy 
 
284 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 against the ever-blessed nature and being of God, to imagine 
 lie would have his most beloved Son suffer for suffering's 
 sake ! And for what other end could it be ? And there is 
 as little reason to doubt the issue, but that, being an enemy, 
 thou wast reconciled by the death of his Son ; being recon- 
 ciled, thou shalt be saved by his life, Rom. v. 10. It 
 therefore remains to press the 
 
 2. Exhortation, which you may take in the apostle's 
 words (2 Cor. v. 20), AVe, the ambassadors of Christ, as 
 though God did beseech you by us, do pray you in Christ's 
 stead, be ye reconciled to God. Now that is put out of 
 doubt, that God justly and honourably can be reconciled 
 to you (without which it had been impossible), and that 
 he is most unquestionably willing ; are you yet unwilling 
 to be reconciled to him 1 Consider both this reconciliation 
 itself, brought about wdth some. You hath he reconciled ; 
 and the way of it. In the body of his flesh, through death. 
 
 1. Some have been reconciled, that have been alienated 
 and enemies in their minds by wicked works. Whereupon 
 bethink yourselves, 
 
 1. Have you any greater reason to be implacable towards 
 the blessed God, than those Colossians 1 why should you 
 be more wicked enemies 1 
 
 2. Can you better maintain your cause against God? 
 are you more able to stand against all the power of his 
 wrath, which you so little know 1 Psal. xc. 11. 
 
 3. Can you better bear the loss and want of the comforts 
 of his love, while you live 1 to have the great God for 
 3^our friend 1 to whom you have free recourse, and may 
 pour out your souls daily ? upon whom you may cast all 
 your cares ? with whom you may walk in fi'iendly love, 
 and may converse with him every day ? 
 
 4. Can you less need his supports in a dying hour ? "Will 
 it be easy to you to die unreconciled ? and afterwards to 
 appear convicted, unreconcilable enemies before the tribu- 
 nal of your Judge ? and then to have no advocate, no 
 intercessor to plead for you ? When he himself must be 
 your condemning Judge, and shall only say, that thou 
 
OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN, 285 
 
 hadst known, in the day of thy visitation, the things that 
 did belong to thy peace ! but now they are hid from thy 
 eyes, Luke, xix. 42, 44, 
 
 2. But we are further to persuade this reconciliation to 
 God, from the way wherein our Lord effects it : In the body 
 of his flesh, through death, or by dying a sacrifice upon 
 tlic cross. And now you know this, will you not yet be 
 reconciled to him 1 Consider, 
 
 1 . You will herein frustrate and make insignificant to 
 yourself, the highest demonstration that could be giveti of 
 God's good-will towards you. God so loved the world, &c. 
 (John, iii. 1 6), and what could our Lord himself have done 
 more to testify his own love ? For greater love hath no 
 man, than to lay down his life for his friends, John, xv. 
 13. Yea, for those that were not so before, but wicked 
 enemies ; only that thereby they might be made friends, 
 Rom. V. 8, And what could it signify to you, to represent 
 the divine love to you by so costly a demonstration, if it do 
 not gain your love ? 
 
 2. And what could be so apt a means, sinner, to break 
 thy heart, and conquer all thy former enmity, as to behold 
 thy Redeemer dying upon the cross for thee ? They shall 
 look upon me whom they have pierced, and mourn, Zech. 
 xii. 10. And I, if I be lift up, will draw all men to me ; 
 which our Lord said, signifying what death he should die, 
 by being lift up on the cross, John, xii. 32, 33. Now what 
 dost thou think of thyself, if such a sight will not move 
 thee ? An earthly, carnal, worldly mind, is declared over 
 and over to be enmity against God, Rom. viii. 7 ; James, 
 iv. 4. But how remarkable is it, that such a temper of 
 mind should be so peculiarly signified to import enmity to 
 the cross of Christ ! Phil. iii. 18, 19. I tell you of suck, 
 weeping, saith the apostle, that do even continue their 
 enmity even in the face of the cross ! and who even by 
 that itself are not overcome ! 
 
 3. If thou wilt not be reconciled, Christ did, as to thee, 
 die in vain, thou canst be nothing tlie better. Think what 
 it must come to, tliat so precious blood (infinitely exceeding 
 
286 OF RECONCILIATION BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 
 
 the value of all corruptible tilings ; silver and gold, &c. 
 1 Pet. i. 18, 19), should be shed, to redeem and save such 
 as thou, and yet do thee no good ! 
 
 4. If thou continue to the last unreconciled, it not only 
 doth thee no good, but it must cry and plead most terribly 
 against thee. Blood-guiltiness is a fearful thing 1 What 
 must it be to be guilty of such blood ! If thou wert guilty 
 of the blood of thy father, thy child, or of the wife of thy 
 bo^om, how would it astonish thee ! But to be guilty of 
 the blood of the Son of God ! How canst thou live under 
 it ? If thou wert guilty of all the innocent blood that ever 
 was shed, since the creation of the world, it were not com- 
 parable to the guilt of this blood ! 
 
 5. But if thou come to Jesus, the Mediator of the new- 
 covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaks better 
 things than the blood of Abel, as a reconciled believing 
 penitent ; tliou wilt also come and be adjoined to the 
 general assembly, to the church of the first-born written in 
 heaven, to the innumerable company of angels, and to the 
 spirits of just men made perfect, Heb. xii. 22-24. the 
 joy in heaven that will be concerning thee ! And the 
 fulness of thy own joy, into which thou shalt enter at last : 
 for consider, 
 
 6. And in the last place, w^hat follows in the latter part 
 of this verse, that is, that thou wilt be presented, by thy 
 Redeemer, holy, and unblamable, and unreprovable in the 
 sight of God, as if thou hadst never offended, and never 
 been an enemy. All thy former transgressions, that have 
 overwhelmed thee with just sorrow, shall all be overwhelmed 
 in that kind, paternal joy, as for the returning prodigal ; 
 This my son was lost, and is found. And thy having been 
 so long alienated, and an enemy in thy mind by wicked 
 works, will all be forgotten and swallowed up in the em- 
 braces of infinite, everlasting love ! 
 
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