I Srom f ^ £,i^tari^ of (profeBBor ^amuef (Bliffer in (glemorg of 3ubge ^amuef (gtiffet QBrecfttnribge (J}reeenfeb 61? ^amuef (UltfPer QStecfeinribge feong fo f ^ £i6rari? of (princefon ^^eofogtcaf ^etntnarg BX 5200 .B38 1846 Baxter, Richard, 1615-1691. Making light of Christ and salvation it I I MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION, TOO OFT TUB ISSrE OT GOSPEI. INVITATIONS : A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED TO Tl-RN AND LIVZ ; THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER; HIS PASSING PRATEa, RECOMMIXDI.VG HIS DIPARTIXG SPIRIT TO CHRIST, TO BE RECEIVED BY HIX : OF THE SHEDDING ABROAD OF GOD'S LOVE ON THE HEART BT THE HOLT GHOST : RICHARD BAXTER. WITH AN E SSAY ON HIS LIFE. mNIS^^^tTTAND TBEOLOOT, Bt THOMAS W. JEXKYN, D.D., F.G.S., PRESIDENT or COWARD COLLEOS, LONDON. OF "tHS union OP THE HOLY SPIRIT AND THE CHURCH IN THE CONVERSIOX or THE WORLD," -icars, &c. In ad- dition to their total incapacity for preaching, they were, for the most part, poor, ignorant, immoral, and even dissolute men. The result was, that the villagers and peasants were sunk in vice and irreligion, and spent the greater part of the Sabbath in dancing round the Maypole, and in other gambols, which the Book of Sports recommended and enjoined as proper exercises for the Lord's day. Baxter, at so tender an age, was likely to be influenced by the cor- rupting scenes around him ; and, in subsequent life, he deeply la- ments that, " during his boyhood, he became addicted to the sins of disobedience to parents, lying, stealing fruit, &c. — sins which af- terwards greatly disturbed his conscience, and which he fotind great difGlculty in mastering. Baxter's life. iii In sueK a district, and in such circmnstances, the education of the future Schoohnan of English Theology was likely to be ne- glected. His first ten years were spent among the peasants of High Ercall, and all the education which he received, from the age of six to ten, was under the training of the four successive curates of the parish, of whom the two ablest were drunkards, even to beggary. At the age of ten, he was removed from Rowton to the house of his father, at Eaton Constantine, a village reposing on the left bank of the Severn, about five miles below Shrewsbury. Here he was placed under the instruction of the curate, a notorious drunkard, who had been a lawyer's clerk, who was now reading prayers under forged orders, and who, in Baxter's time, preached only once, and was then drunk. From this wretched teacher, in pretended holy orders, he was transferred to the care of a man of ac- knowledged abilities, " who," says Baxter, " loved me much, and who expected to be made a bishop." This tutor grievously neglected his charge, for, in the course of two years, he ncA'er gave his pupil one hour's actual instruction, but " devoted his time to attacks on the Puritans." His next tutor was Mr Owen of "Wroxcter, the head-master of the free school of that place. Here Baxter made considerable attainments in the Latin Classics, but not much pro- gress in Greek. In all these places of education, Baxter had to depend entirely upon his own diligence, ambition, and judgment. His proficiency at Wroxeter was so satisfastory to Mr Owen, that he was now deemed fully prepared for the University of Oxford, for which he was intended ; but instead of sending the youth to Oxford, Mr Owen recommended him to go to Ludlow, to be under the tuition of Mr Wickstead, the chaplain of the council, who was allowed to have one pupil. He who has once seen Ludlow Castle, will fondly re- member it as the romantic centre of one of the sweetest landscapes in England, and as the august scat of many historical recollections. Here Baxter entered as a pupil, — here, some three or four years afterwards, Milton presented his immortal " Comus" for the first time, — and here, some thirty years afterwards, Butler wrote the first part of his Hudibras. In Ludlow Castle, however, as well as else- where, Baxter's education was neglected by his tutor ; and all the benefit which the youth received, he derived himself from the en- joyment of abundance of time, and plenty of books. His own in- domitable mind did all the rest, in his " pursuit of knowledge un- der difficulties." In the history of Baxter's life, Ludlow is celebrated for two events which had great influence in the formation of his religious charac- ter : and these were his temptations to become a gambler, and the ir Baxter's life. religious apostacy of his most intimate friend. The first game he ever played in his life, he played with the best gamester in the Castle. It was soon perceived that, he must inevitably lose the game, unless he obtained one particular cast of the dice each time in succession. The dice gave that particular cast each time, and he won the game. His astonishing success induced him to believe that the devil had managed the dice for the purpose of making a gamester of him. He therefore returned the money to his antago- nist, and determined never to play another game. The apostacy of his young friend was more dangerous to him than the temptation to gambling. His friend was a religious and a very devotional young man. They were very much attached to each other, and were constantly studj-ing together. He was the first that Bax- ter had ever heard pray extempore, and it was from him that Baxter himself acquired the gift and habit. This youth became a rcAdler of aU religion, and even scoffed at Baxter's devotional habits. From the contagion of his influence Baxter was preserved, partly by his own deep religioiis convictions at that time, and partly by his re- moval from Ludlow Castle to Eaton Constantine. When he returned to the house of his father he was fifteen years of age. He was one day rummaging among the books of his father, and discovered an old tattered book, which a poor cottager in the neigh- bourhood had lent him. Young Baxter, fresh from the scenes and recollections of Ludlow Castle, read this book very closely, and with great " searchings of heart ;" and the reading produced in his mind decided convictions of the evil ot sin. It will be interesting to know what book that was which gave the decisive turn to Baxter's mind. That tattered old book was Bunny's " Booke of Christian Exercise appertaining to Resolution." Its name in common use was " Bunny's Resolution." The real author of it was Parsons, the famous English Jesuit. The original was written on purely popish principles ; but it was corrected and improved by Edmund Bunny, a thoroiigh old Puritan, who was Rector of Bolton Percy, and who, after a life of apostolic labours, died in 1617. " Bunny's Resolution " deals much and vigorously with con- science, and rouses every man to the obligation of " resolving our- selves to become Christians indeed." It is probable that this work gave to Baxter's mind that awakening tone, and that eloquent energy, which tell so mightily in his " Call to the Unconverted." The Jesuit, in composing this work, never thought that it would produce the author of " The Certainty of Christianity without Popery," Bunny's Resolution was useful to Baxter, only so far as it awakened his mind, and directed him to caution, prayer, and firmness: it neither led him to Christ, nor brought him to the BAXTER'S LIFE. V guidance and aid of the Holy Spirit, and, therefore, it gave him no " joy and peace in believing." This was reserved for another, and a very different work : this honour was for Dr Sibbs' Bruised Reed. This admirable little work brought him and his resolutions to the Saviour, and melted his heart into devotion. If Bunny's Resolu- tion strung Baxter's harp, it was Sibbs' Bruised Reed that tuned it to the love of Christ. These were the circumstances in which Baxter was making arrangements for studying theology. In these he was interrupted by his being requested to superintend the school at Wroxeter, on account of the illness of his old tutor Mr Owen, and then by his own bodily infirmities. After superintending the Wroxeter school for three months, he placed himself under the care of the Rev. Francis Garbett, of the same village, that he might study theology as a science. He had scarcely been a month in the study of logic, before he was attacked with a harassing cough, spitting of blood, and many other symptoms of consumption, which continued to afflict him, almost incessantly, for two years. This affliction checked his intellectual studies, but it gave a powerful and an onward impulse to his religious aflfections ; it excited him to a closer examination of his motives for entering the ministry, and it associated all his future plans and present movements with eternity. He already began to feel as a dying man among dying men. In this frame of mind, he found EzEKiEL Culverwell's " Treatise of Faith," a great help and a delightful solace. It is reported of him that, in the twilight of every evening, at that interval in which it was too dark for him to read, and not dark enough to light his lamp, he employed his mind regularly in thinking of heaven. This will account for the sweet- ness and power with which at a subsequent period he wrote about " The Saints' Everlasting Rest ; " the reading of which now is like conversing in " the gate of heaven." The first month of his studies under Mr Garbett had been given to logic ; but after this affliction, he resolved to devote himself entirely, and almost exclusively, to theology, and that with a spe- cial and direct view to the information and the spiritual furniture of his own soul. In his theological curriculum, he studied first prac- tical theology as exhibited in the best works of our English divines. In learning systematic theology, he was obliged to have recourse to the works of foreign divines ; because, unless Perkins's Golden Chain be regarded as a systematic work, the English language did not at this period possess a Body of Divinity. Wroxeter is to be held in remembrance as the place, in which Baxter finished his course of education preparatory to his entering on his ministerial work. In that important process he greatly needed vi Baxter's life. an intelligent guide, who would have directed him to the best course of theological reading, and to the best methods of study : but instead of having such guidance, he was left much to himself, and was almost entirely his own teacher. Had he had the advantages of a regular cur- riculum at a college or university, his knowledge would have been bet- ter arranged and more symmetrical, though, perhaps, not so various and discursive. In the absence of such salutary discipline and whole- some aid, his predilections and taste led him to plunge himself into the thick forests of metaphysical theology. In dialectics he became a coRSuniEaate Aristotelian. The ecclesiastical fathers came to him as if they were brethren ; Aquinas, as a familiar spirit ; Anselm, as a fellow student ; and Duns Scotus, as- a pleasant companion. His success in these kinds of studies was so great and thorough, that, for aeuteness in definitions, for subtlety in distinctions, and for masterly adroitness in disputation and logomachy, he deserved to be called the last of the Schoolmen. To all theologians, who have made any acquaintance with scholastic divinity, it is a pleasing marvel that, amid all its jargon Latin and its dry speculations, Baxter's mind and heart were kept in all their lively freshness and healthy glow. On one occasion their ponderous tomes seriously endangered his life, as they fell from shelves under which he was reposing. He recounts his deliverance as a singular interposition of Providence. " As I sat in my study, the weight of my greatest folio books brake down three or four of the highest shelves, when I sat close under them, and they fell down on every side of me, and not one of them hit me, save one upon my arm ; whereas the place, the weight, and the greatness of the books was such, and my head just under them, that it is a Avonder they had not beaten out my brains. " It is quite as great a wonder, that their weighty and crab- bed lore did not wither and shrivel the energies of his capacious heart. Profound studies in metaphysics tend generally to freeze the religious affections of the student, but it is evident that they did not damp the ardour of Baxter's devotion. Even while threading the labyrinths and " wondrous mazes " of scholastic theology, he was " fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." Hear his own account, and his own estimate of his studies, as given in a letter to the liigotted and partial Anthony Wood, who wished to know whether he was an alunnius of Oxford. " As to myself," says Baxter, *' my faults are no disgrace to any university, for I was of none ; I have little but what I had out of books, and inconsiderable helps of country tutors. Weakness and pain helped me to study how to die ; that set me on stud3'ing how to live ; and that on studying the doctrine from which I fetch my motives and comforts. Beginning with necessities, I proceeded by degi'ees ; and now I am going to see that for which I have lived and studied." Baxter's life. ATTien Baxter was giving himself a theological education at Wroxeter, his prospects of iisefiilness in the ministry were clouded by his diseased constitution. He was now eighteen years of age, and his liveliest hopes were blighted. His former tutor at Ludlow Castle advised him to try his fortune at court, " as being the only rising way." For, at this period, Charles I. had but lately ascend- ed the throne. Many circumstances seconded this recommenda- tion. His parents had never been very cordial in his wishes to enter the ministry. They had great confidence in the opinion of Mr Wickstead ; and he had great interest with Sir Henry Herbert, who was Master of the Revels. Baxter came to London and spent a month at court, but it was a month of disgust and revulsion. He says, " I had quickly enough of the court ; when I saw a stage-play instead of a sermon on the Lord's days in the afternoon, and saw what course was there in fashion, and heard little preaching but what was, as to one part, against the Puritans, I was glad to be gone." The illness of his mother supplied him with a good excuse for quitting A\Tiitehall and retiring to Shropshire. He left London about Christmas 1633, during a severe frost. "WTiile travelling on horseback through a heavy and memorable snow-storm, he met, in a narrow part of the road, a loaded waggon, which he could pass only by riding on the side of a bank. In spurring his hbrse up this bank, the animal fell, the girths broke, and Baxter was thrown immediately before the wheel. At this critical juncture the horses stopped suddenly, unaccountably, but providentially, and his life was saved. The preservation of his life, in so remarkable a manner, deeply affected him. Under the influence of this fresh interference of God in his behalf, he reached his home, where he found his mo- ther in such agonies of pain that her groans filled the whole house. She languished through the spring, and died on May 10, 1634. At the grave of his mother, and being rescued so wonderfully from his ovm grave, his mind was awakened to fresh and resolved thoughts about the ministry- ; and, in three or four years more, he entered the church as a Conformist, though no Episcopalian. In 1638 he was appointed head master of the Free School which had been just established at Dudley, where he would have also op- portunities for preaching. In the same year he was ordained at Worcester by Bishop Thoniborough. After staying one year at Dudley, he removed to Bridgenorth, where the Et Ca-tera Oath made him a Nonconformist, and where, he says, he continued about a year and three quarters, having " liberty of preaching in troub- lous times." The days of Baxter's sojourn in Bridgenorth might well be called " troublous times." In these times Laud was teaching popery to England, and manufacturing bonds of iniquity for Protestants ; Vlll BAXTER S LIFE. StraflFord was learning and practising serv'illty to Charles, and Sap- ping the liberties of his countrr ; kings trembled on their thrones, and bishops were ill at ease on their benches ; the immortal Hamp- den was disputing with his king about ship-money ; Peter Smart was imprisoned twelve years for preaching against high church ceremonies ; Dr Leighton, as much the minister of the freedom of truth, as his son was the minister of its love, had liis ears cut off, and his nose slit, for writing his " Zion's Plea against Prelacy ;" Prynne, the barrister, had similar cruelties inflicted on him for writing against plays and masquerades ; the Scots were marching to England with their Covenant ; the High Commission Court was practising the abominations of the Inquisition ; the English were beginning to speak in honest Saxon, and bold tones, to their princes ; Charles was become the most consummate and shameless hy])ocrite in England ; the House of Commons appointed a committee to re- ceive the complaints and petitions of the people against their ignorant and dissolute clergy, and the chairman published those complaints in his " One Century of Scandalous Ministers," Such were the times about 1 640, when Baxter left Bridgenorth to settle in Kidderminster, where he had been invited by the people to become their lecturer. This was his first settlement in that to^Ti, wliich lasted about two years ; but they were two years of laborious preaching on his part, of great political agitations among the people, and of imminent danger to his life. The Royalist rabble were so malignant against liis ministry, that his best friends recom- mended him to leave the place. From Kidderminster he went to Gloucester, where he tarried one month. During his short stay, he witnessed, for the first time, one of the public disputations, which were sometimes held between the ministers and the Baptists, who were every where agitating the churches on the question of immersion, — a question on which, it is the humiliation and enervation of the CongregationaHsts, that they have not agreed to differ uathout separating from each other. On all other topics they can meet and associate with safety and peace. A Baptist and Independent are much like the powders of an acid and an alkali ; they can mix together in the same phial, and in the same vessel, with perfect concord : but just drop a little water among them, and they are immediately in effervescence. So did Baxter find them at Gloucester, and so did he afterwards find them in his controversies with Mr Tombes of Bewdley. When he had spent a month at Gloucester, his friends at Kidder- . minster thought he might return to them in safety ; but, on his re- turn, he found the town so much divided on the questions between the King and the Parliament, that he was obliged to quit it imme- Baxter's life. ix diately. Once more he was a wanderer, and he visited his old friend Mr Samuel Clark, at Alcester, where he preached on Sun- day, October 23, 1642, amid the sounds of the cannon at Edgehill. On the next day he went to see the field of battle, and saw the two armies keeping the ground in sight of each other, and the space between them covered with the unburied bodies of the slain. From Alcester he went to Coventry to spend a month with his friend Mr Simon King, who was minister there. He expected that, in a month, Charles and the Parliament would have adjusted their differences and put an end to the civil war, but instead of ceasing, the war raged more and more furiously. The state of the country induced him to accept the invitation of the committee and governor of Co- ventry to stay with them and to preach to the soldiers. After a stay of one year in this city, he went to Shropshire for the purpose of releasing his father, who was a prisoner at LilleshaU. It was on this occasion that he joined Colonel ^lytton, and Mr Hunt of Boreatton, at the garrison of Wem. In Shropshire, he was perpe- tually in the midst of tumults and skirmishes, and, therefore, at the end of two months, he returned to Coventry, and staid there another year. It was during this second stay that he signed the Scottish Covenant, and declared himself openly on the side of the Parlia- ment. The first of these acts he always afterwards lamented ; and for the second, he apologises with thirty-two reasons in liis " Peni- tent Confessions." Baxter was at Coventry when Cromwell fought and won the battle of Naseby ; and, tAvo days after the victory, he visited the field of battle, and passed a night in the Parliamentary camp, near Leices- ter. This visit opened his eyes to the real state of the army on the subject of civil and religious liberty. His new information deepened and darkened his prejudices against Cromwell. Yet some of the oflScers persuaded him to join the anny, and he consented to become chaplain to Colonel A\Tialley's regiment. As a military chaplain, his subsequent movements were regulated by the campaigns and marches of the regiment to which he was at- tached. Immediately on joining the army, he marched to Somer- ton, and was present at the battle of Langport, where, standing on the brow of a hiU, he could surs'ey the operations of both armies. As Goring's army began to flee before the Parliamentary forces under Fairfax, Baxter stood next to Major Harrison, and heard the gallant officer " with a loud voice break forth into the praise of God with fluent expressions, as if he had been in a rapture." From Langport he accompanied the army to the siege of Bridge- water. »vhich he saw taken by storm. He was again at the siege of Bristol, where, in about three days, he was taken ill of a fever, occa- X BAXTER"? LIFE. sioned by the plague which prevailed in the neighbourhood. He immediately quitted the camp, and rode to Bath, to be under the care of his physician, Dr Veuner. In fourteen days the fever ended in a crisis, but it left him so emaciated and weak that " it was long," he says, " before I recovered the little strength which I had before."' On his recovery, he returned to Bristol, and saw that cit;i- taken in four days, Major Bethell wounded and slain, and Prince Kupert routed with the loss of his " ordnance and arms." His next march was to Sherborne Castle, which, after a fortnight's siege, was taken by storm, *' and that on a side which one would think could never have been tliat way taken." Cromwell, after his success at Basing- house, near Basingstoke, resolved to pursue Lord Goring's troops to the west of England, where they had made themselves mfamoos for their flagrant impieties and liarbarous outrages. In consequence of this movement of the army, Baxter was present at the siege ot Exeter, where he continued about three weeks, and then left because his regiment was ordered to march against Oxford to keep that gar- rison in check till the army woxdd return from Exeter. Colonel "\^'halley's regiment quartered in Buckinghamshire for about six Aveeks, when it besieged and took Banbury Castle. It was while quartering in this neighbourhood that Baxter maintained his famous disputation with Bethell's troopers at Agmondesham. At the siege of "Worcester, Baxter was again taken very ill, and he was urged by his friends to visit London for medical advice. On arriving in the metropolis, his physician sent him to Tunbridge Wells, where he received considerable benefit, and then returned tlvrough London to the army in Worcestershire. HLs quarters were at Rous Leuch, the seat of Sir Thomas Kous, where he had never been before. Here Providence supplied him with a valuable friend, who continued for years to be of great use to him. This friend was Lady Lench, " a godly, grave, and understanding woman, who en- tertained me," says R-ixter, •* not as a soldier, but as a friend." From Worcestershire he went into Leicestershire, StaflFordshire, and Derbyshire. At ^lelbourn, near Ashby-de-la-Zouch, his for- mer diseases again afflicted him. It was now a cold and snowy sea- son, and " the cold," he savs, *' together with other things coinci- dent, set my nose bleeding. "\^Tien I had bled a quart or two, I opened four veins, but that did no good, I used divers other reme- dies, for several days, to little purpose. * » « This so much weakened me, and altered my complexion, that my acquaintances who came to see me scarcely knew me." This affliction was a turning point in the history of Baxter. It took him completely from all his schemes of opposing the Ironsides, just when he thought himself best prepared and furnished for the BAXTER'S LIFE. xi enterprise ; and, by this means, he was separated for ever from the army. His illness at Melbourn detained him in his chamljer and among strangers for three weeks. As soon as he gathered a little strength, he went to Kirby ilallory, and spent three weeks at the house of his friend Mr Xowell. When the news of his illness reached Rous Lench, Lady Rous sent her servant all- the way to Leicester- shire to bring him under her roof. In great weakness," says Baxter, " thither I made shift to get, where I was entertained with the greatest eare and tenderness, while I continued to use the means for my recovery ; and when I had been there a quarter of a year, I returned to Kidderminster." He had now been ill about five months, but they were the most memorable months in his history. It was in this season of pains and medicines that he wrote his first works. His disputes in the army had prepared him to write his " Aphorisms of Justification ; " and his sanctified afflictions made him write of The Saints' Ever- lasting Rest." The work which he commenced first was the " Saint's Rest ;" and it was while discussing the rewards, which should be conferred on the saints for their works of faith, that he was led to write his " Aphorisms." In speaking of the " Saint's Rest," he says, " Whilst I was in health, I had not the least thought of writing books, or of serving God in any more public way than preaching. But when I was weakened with great bleeding, and left solitary in my chamber at Sir John Cook's in Derbyshire, without any ac- quaintance but my servant about me, and was sentenced to death by the physicians, I began to contemplate more seriously on the everlasting rest which I apprehended myself to be just on the bor- ders of ; and that my thoughts might not too much scatter in my meditation, I began to write something on that subject, intending but the quantity of a sermon or two (which is the cause that the beginning is, in brevity and style, disproportionable to the rest); but being continued long in weakness, where I had no books, nor no better employment, I followed it on till it was enlarged to the bulk in which it is published. The first three weeks I spent in it was at Mr Nowell's house at Kirby Mallory, in Leicestershire ; a quarter of a year more, at the seasons which so great weakness would allow, I bestowed on it at Sir Tho. Rous's house, at Rous Lench, in Worcestershire ; and I finished it shortly after at Kidder- minster. The first and last parts were first done, being all that I intended for my own use ; and the second and third parts came afterwards in besides my first intention." Myriads of saints will have to bless God for ever for having afflicted Baxter at Melbourn, and for having taught him, in the mi- nister's house at Kirby, to write the " Saints' Rest." He wrote it h xii Baxter's i.ife. when he had no books by him but a Bible and a Concordance. It was the transcript of his ovra heart, and therefore he found that, of all liis works, " it had the greatest force on the hearts of others." It was first published in 1649, and since then, it has gone through many successive editions— surpassed, in number of editions, by, per- haps, no other book but the Pilgrim s Progress, or his own " Call to the Unconverted." All the editions subsequent to 1659 are dis- tinguished by one painful pcculiarit}-. In the Commonwealth edi- tions, he has introduced the name of Lord Brook, Hampden, and Pym, as among the glorified saints whom he should meet in " the everlasting rest ; " but in impressions under the Restoration, these names are left out. The motive for omitting them was to please Dr Jane, and to induce him to license the publication of the volume. It is a Avonder and a grief to all the friends of Baxter, that he should have thus truckled 5 for the omission was against his own firm judg- ment concerning these illustrious individuals ; and the omission, like all other such will-sacrifices, was far from giving satisfaction to the prelatical party. According to Baxter's own unchanged opinion, Hampden, Pym, and Brook, were stiU in the everlasting rest, though their names were no longer in his book about that rest. This omission marred the honour, but it did not injure the useful- ness, of the book. Many thousands own their conversion to it ; and many more owe to it their growth in grace, and their edification in love and heavenly raindedness. Baxter's auctions and meditations on the Saints' Rest had pre- pared him for his pastoral work at Kidderminster, whither he has- tened from Rous Lench. The account of his ministry in that town, made famous by his pastorship, -will be found in the second chapter of this Essay. He spent there fourteen years, which were as event- ful in the history of England as they were in the life of the labori- ous minister. In these years Cromwell marched his troops against the Parliament and subdued it. Charles, after a life of improbity and bloodshed, was seized by the array and executed ; the Common- wealth was established, and Cromwell proclaimed its Protector ; the Scottish Covenanters were intriguing with Charles II. at Breda, and sacrificed Montrose to their schemes ; war was devastating Ire- land and Scotland ; Charles II. entered England, lost the battle of Worcester, and immortalized the royal oak ; the Protector died, and his son was deposed ; England ceased to be puritan ; and General Monk had matured his plots for duping the army to restore Charles to the throne of his father. Such was the state of England when Baxter left Kidderminster, and reached London, April 13, 1660. On his arrival he conversed with Lord Lauderdale on the nation's obligation to the oath which Baxter's life. xm they had sworn to Richard Cromwell. This Lauderdale was the man who had procured letters to be written by Protestant ministers in France, filled with assurances that Charles was firmly attached to the Protestant religion. A new parliament was immediately summoned to cancel the obligation of the oath to Richard Crom- well, and to invite Charles II. to England. To this parliament Baxter preached at 8t Margaret's, Westminster, April 30, on Re- pentance, from Ezek. xxxvi. 31. Immediately after the sermon, the House was to meet to vote the return of Charles. On May 10, he preached again from Luke x. 30, on " Right Rejoicing," to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London, who AA'ere keeping a day of solemn thanksgiving for General Monk's success in bringing the king back. As Charles passed through the city of London to West- minster, the London ministers attended him with acclamations, and, by the hands of the oldest minister among them, the venerable Arthur Jackson, they " presented him Avith a richly adorned Dible, which he received, and told them that it should be the rule of his actions." Thus, before he had yet reached his throne, Chjirlcs be- gan to act the hypocrite, even with the Bible in his hand, and to treat with flagitious duplicity the men who had restored him to his crown. These ministers were honest men, but they allowed them- selves to be duped and entrapped ; and, in two years after their acclamations, he made them pay dearly for their silly confidence in royal promises. Oh ! had wisdom uttered her voice in some street, and cried in some place of cpncourse, or in the opening of the gates of London, while Charles was passing, and had told these ministers, " Put NOT YOUR TRUST IX Princes," * many wallings and much shame would have been saved this country. After the Restoration, ten or twelve of the Presbyterian ministers were made royal chaplains ; and among these was Baxter, " at his Majesty's own desire, as an acceptable furtherance of his service." In this office none of them ever preached except Mr Calamy, Dr Reynolds, Dr Spurslo^v, Mr Woodbridge, and Baxter, once each. After his appointment, he had an interview with the king on the practicableness of effecting an agreement between the Episcopalians and Presbyterians, which ended in the royal farce of the meet- ing at Sion College. In (September 4, 16G0, Charles published his insulting Declaration, to which Baxter drew up an answer, in such terms of firmness and manliness as to alarm Calamy and Reynolds, * At Breda, April 4, 1660, Charles II. gave his royal wf>rd in these terras — " We do declare a liberty to tender consciences, and that no man shall be disquieted, or called in question, for differences of opinion which do not disturb the peace of the kingdom." This he had the profligacy to declare on, what he called, " the word of a Christian king." xlv BAXTER S LIFE. who declared that " it would not be so much as received." ^VTien Baxter's modified reply was presented, a modified declaration of the king was proclaimed, which was as unsatisfactory as its first compo- sition. Defective and even insolent as the king's modified declara- tion was, the very pastors who had enabled Charles to insult them, met to thank him for the minimum of liberty which he graciously gave them. When they presented their thanks to the king, Baxter refused to attend. On hearing this, the king sent for Baxter the next day, and flattered him, but did not change his opinion about royal fidelity. These discussions concluded with farce the second, called the Savoy Conference, at which Sheldon acted with the haughtiness and tp-anny of a Wolsey. Though the Presbyterian Divines were thus treated by the court and the hierarchy, the Nonconformists were known and felt to be a powerful body in the country. As a measure of kingcraft, there- fore, it was proposed that the best way to silence them was to make some of their leaders Lord Bishops ; and, accordingly, Hereford was offered to Baxter, Litchfield and Coventry to Calamy, and Nor^vich to Reynolds, who accepted it on the ground that the conge d'eJire was taken out without his knowledge by a friend. An emissary of the court, Colonel Birch, waited upon Baxter again and again to get him to intimate his consent; but he declared, that " if the old dio- cesan frame continued, he would not accept it." Even this was not enough, the Chancellor, Clarendon, had an interview with him, and asked him about his resolution, when the proposal was rejected for ever. In saying " Nolo Episcopari," he meant it as " the words of truth and soberness." The next step in Baxter's life is one perfectly singular, and is a good illustration of his character. Having declined a bishopric, he entreated Clarendon to give him the poor curacy of Kidderminster. " My people," he says, " were so dear to me, and I to them, that I would have been with them on the lowest terms. Some laughed at me for refusing a bishopric, and petitioning to be a reading- vicar's curate ; but I had little hopes of so good a condition, at least for any considerable time. The Chancellor, and even the King, professed to be for his restoration to his people, but they allowed themselves to be baffled by his well known enemy. Sir Ralph Clare ; and Bi- shop Morley also was resolved that he should never again enter the diocese of Worcester." When the people at Kidderminster under- stood the disposition of Baxter towards them, " in a day's time they gathered the hands of sixteen hundred out of the eighteen hundred communicants," with the assurance of more, if they had only time given them. What Clarendon and the King had professed to fail to do, he tried to do for himself. '* I went down," he says, " to Baxter's life. XV Worcestershire, to try whether it were possible to have any honest terms from the reading- vicar there, that I might preach to my former flock ; but when I had preaclied twice or thrice, he denied me Hberty to preach any more. * * * I offered to be his curate, and lie refused it. I then offered to preach for nothing, and he refused it. And, lastly, I desired leave but once to administer the sacrament to the people, and to preach my farewell sermon to them, but he would not consent. At last I understood that he was directed by his su- periors to do what he did." From Kidderminster, Baxter, after paying a hasty visit to his afflicted father in Shropshire, waited on Bishop Morley. " I reminded the Bishop," he says, " of his pro- mise to grant me his license, &c. ; but he refused me liberty to preach in his diocese, though I offered to preach only on the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, and that only to such as had no preaching." Baxter was silenced, — the man who had received his " ministry from the Lord Jesus," was rejected. He went to the Bishop's palace with " neither purse nor scrip." He said, " peace be to this house," but " the son of peace was not there." When the door of Worces- ter's palace closed on " holy Baxter," the event appeared trifling in episcopal judgment ; but all the influence and bearings of that little event have not been yet developed. An edict has gone forth from the Ijord, which says — " Into whatsoever city ye enter, and they receive you not, go your ways out into the streets of the same and say. Even the very dust of your city which cleaveth on us, we do wipe off against you." That dust, as it falls from the messenger, will have its influence on other interests. Natural Philosophy in- forms us, that a grain of sand on the point of a needle has its influ- ence on the greatest and most remote bodies in the solar system. In the same manner. Revelation assures, that the dust from the sandals of ejected ministers, will, in the day of retribution, make it more tolerable for Sodom than for that city or that house which has re- jected them. After the prelate of Worcester had refused to license him in that diocese, he settled in London, and preached in various vacant pul- pits, where his services were requested. After a year of such occasional, and always gratuitous ministrations, he resolved to become a colleague of the Rev. Dr Bates, at St Dunstan's in the West, where he preached once a-week. The subjects of his sermons seem to have been regularly reported in high quarters, and he was always charged with sedition and rebellion, till he preached the series which he afterwards published under the title of " The Formal Hypocrite Detected," when the low hypocrites that reported him, and the high hypocrites which heard their reports, ceased their accusations. xvi BAXTER'S LIFE. It was while preaching in St Dunstan's that he displayed that solemn and calm superioritj' to alarm and fear which is related by Dr Bates, The church of St Dunstan's had " an ill name, as very old, rotten, and dangerous ;" when therefore " a little lime and dust, and perhaps a piece of brick or two, fell down the steei^le " during service, the whole congregation was exceedingly alarmed, and every one rushed towards the doors. Baxter " sat down in the pulpit, seeing and pitying their vain distempers ; and then, as soon as he could be heard, he rose and said, " Wc are in the service of God, to prepare ourselves, that we may be fearless at the great noise of the dissolving world, when the heavens shall pass away, and the elements melt with fervent heat," He then continued and finished his dis- course, which was his last at St Dunstan's church, which had to be rebuilt. Between this time and the passing of the anti-Christian Act of Uniformity, he continued to preach for some time at St Bride's in Fleet Street, and at St Ann's, Black Friars, and he had also a week- day lecture in Milk Street, supported by Mr Ashurst, Thus he' continued to labour in his Master's work, till the shadows of Bar- tholomew Eve warned him to quit the English Church, which incessantly harassed him, and persecuted him even unto death. The whole noble band of Nonconformists were about to be ejected from the Church of England on August 24, 1662 ; but Baxter re- solved to quit that Church before the Act of Uniformity came into force, and he accordingly preached his last sermon on the 25th of the previous May. This he did, partly because his legal advisers informed him, that as he was only a Lecturer, the liberty of all lecturers terminated on the 25th of May ; partly to let authority know that he would obey it in all that was lawful ; but chiefly to let all the Ministers in England understand in time that he did not intend to conform, lest any should conform in the expectation that he would be a conformist. When the 24th of August came, two thousand illustrious, able, and faithful ministers — such two thousand as England saw never — were faithful to their consciences, and faithful to the God of truth and liberty ; and they all quitted the English Church, Popery had its Bartholomew's day in France, and it shed the blood of myriads ; and Prelacy has had its Bartholomew's day in England, and it covered it Avith the gall of bitterness and bonds of iniquity. While Baxter was busy in devising schemes of comprehension for Episcopalians and Nonconformists, he was at the same time em- ploying his thoughts and his heart on a subject of much delicacy and tenderness, and that was his marriage. On September 10, 1662, just a fortnight after the dark and black Bartholomew's day, he was married in Bennet Fink Church in Clieapside, by Mr Sa- BAXTER S LIFE. XVll muel Gark, to Miss Margaret Charlton. Baxter was now forty- seven years of age, and Miss Charlton was about twenty-three. It had always been a part of his creed, that for ministers to marry was only barely lawful. All these things made his marriage notorious. " The king.'s marriage," he says, " was scarcely more talked of than mine." Two things brought Miss Charlton under the special notice of Baxter ; she was born within three miles of his own native village, and, on her removal with her mother to Kidderminster, his ministry was the means of her conversion. Notwithstanding the inequality in their ages, he says that " the many strange occur- rences which brought it to pass, would take away the wonder of her friends and mine" — but " in her case and mine there was much that was extraordinary, what it doth not concern the world to be acquainted with." The terms on which Baxter proposed marriage, and which Miss Cliarlton accepted, are these : First, " That I should have nothing that before our marriage was hers ; that I, who wanted no earthly supplies, might not seem to marry her jbr covetousness. Secondly, That slie would so alter her affairs that I might be en- tangled in no lawsuits. Thirdly, That she would expect none of my time which my ministerial work should require." They were "married in the Lord," and he found in her a help-meet for him, sometimes his fellow prisoner, and always the helper to his joy. On June 1, 16G3, Sheldon became Archbishop of Canterbury, a man of deep craftiness, of dexterous ability, and of un relenting ma- lignity against the Nonconformists ; and, consequently, their suffer- ings were greatly aggravated on his accession to the primacy, espe- cially through the severity of liis act against private meetings. This law put all public service at an end. Baxter resolved to leave London ; and he says, " I betook myself to live in the country, at Acton, that I might set myself to writing, and do what service I could for posterity, and live as much as I possibly could out of the world. Thither I went on the 14th of July 1663, where I followed my studies pi-ivately in quietness." Here he attended the church in one part of the day, and preached in his own house at another. Here also he finished some of his best works, especially his " Chris- tian Directory." On March 26, 1665, he was nearly being shot dead. While he was preaching and administering the Lord's Sup- per, a bullet came in at the window, and passed close by him, but did him no hurt. The villain who had attempted to murder him was never discovered. Towards the close of 1665 the Plague made its appearance in London, amidst all the troubles of a war with Holland. Baxter seems to have regarded this as a visitation upon England for the wickedness of the Corporation Act which had lately passed. He xviii Baxter's life. says, — " From London the plague is spread through many counties, os;)3cially next London, where few places, especially corporations^ are free ; which makes me oft groan, and wish that London, and all the Corporations of En^lan^, would review the Corporatiox Act, and their own acts, and speedily repent." AVhile Baxter was pen- ning this noble sentiment, he was at Hampden, in Buckinghamshire, in the house of his beloved friend, Mr Richard Hampden, " the true heir of his famous father's sincerity, piety, and devotedness to God." Here he continued while the plague raged about London. It is probable that Nonconformity and Religious Liberty in Eng- land owe more to the Plague, and to the Fire of London, than to any other two causes in the providence of God. " AVhen the plague grew hot," says Baxter, " most of the conformable minis- ters fled, and left their flocks in the time of their extremity ; where- upon divers Nonconformists, pitying the dying and distressed people, when about ten thousand died in a week, resolved that no obedience to the laws of mortal man whatever could justify them in neglecting men's souls and bodies in such extremities. They therefore re- solved to stay with the people, and to go into the forsaken juslpits, though prohibited ; and also to visit the sick and the dying, and to get what relief they could for the poor, especially those that were shut up." Yet while these noble and generous men were thus la- bouring in the very domain of death, and at the post which the hireling clergy had forsaken, Sheldon and Clarendon were forging the chains of the Five Mile Act to stop all their efibrts. "When tlie Plague ceased at Acton in March 1G66, Baxter returned home, and " found the church-yard like a ploughed field with graves, and many of his neighbours dead." The next mysterious Providence which promoted religious libei ty was the great Fire of London. It broke out at midnight, September 2, 1666. Baxter says, that "it was set on fire," and he believed that the agents in tliis awful destruction " of one of the fairest cities in the world were the Papists. Whether the suspicion be true or not, the report, and the common belief of it, shew in what degree of detestation all Papists were held in that age. After the fire, as m-cII as during the plague, the religious condition of the Londoners was equally wretched and destitute, as far as the conforming clergy were concerned. When the churches were burnt, the parish miui^ters all departed, as if they had no ministry for the souls of men, except within the walls of churches. At this season, again, the generous Nonconformists came forth to the work of the ministry, with a dis- interestedness and a diligence, that should have shamed their rivals and oppressors. This was the birth-season of dissenting chapels ; for the ministers now prepared large rooms, and " plain chapels with BAXTERS LIFE. xix pulpits, seats, and galleries, for the reception of as many as would come :" and, says Baxter, " manr of the citizens went to those meetings called private, more than went to the public parish churches." These magnanimous labours produced a fresh rumour about a "com- prehension," and liberty of conscience ; but the clergy opposed every effort for the restitution of the Xonconformists, and continued to refuse them all toleration till the fall of the wily Clarendon. On the rise of the Duke of Buckingham, the preaching of the Xonconformists was connived at, " so that the people went openly to hear them without fear " — "and they did the like in most parts of England." In the mean time, Baxter was busily engaged at Acton ■wnth his illustrious friend Judge Hale in arranging the heads of a new scheme of Comprehension. While Judge Hale and Baxter were thus employed, the inquisitorial Sheldon addressed a circular letter to all the Bishops, requesting them to give an account of all the conventicles in their diocese. The result was, that many ministers were imprisoned; and one of Sheldon's first victims was Baxter. Information was laid against him by his neighbour, one Colonel Phillips, for preaching in his own house at Acton, and he had to appear before the magistrates at Brentford. These, after treating him rudely and insultingly, sent him to Clerkenwell prison, " where," says Baxter, " I had an honest jailer, who shewed me all the kind- ness he could." Mrs Baxter went to prison with her husband; and he says, " My wife was never so cheerful a companion to me as in prison, and was very much against my seeking to be released." From this prison he Avas liberated by a Habeas Corpus, but with an ohitum dictum of the Judge that it was not on account of his inno- cence, but merely because of a flaw in the mittimus. On his release, he found that his position was more diflicult than he had apprehended ; for the Five Mile Act prevented him from returning to Acton, where he had a house of large rent ; and that his enemies among the magistrates had made a fresh and a more accurate mittimus to send him to Newgate " among thieves and murderers ;" he felt, therefore, that he must at any cost leave Middlesex. His next place of abode was Totteridge, near Barnet, where he lived in " a few mean rooms, which were so extremely smoky, and the place withal so cold, that he spent the winter with great pain." It was during his stay at Totteridge that he had his controversy with Dr Owen ; that Lauderdale oflered to make him a Scottish Bishop, or a Scottish Principal of one of the Universities ; that he wrote a great part of his " Meihod/is Theohgicc that he lost a great part of his property through the bankruptcy of the King's Exchequer ; that he aided Lord Orrery in forming the " Healing Pleasure," which failed ; and that he availed himself of the King's " Dispensing De- XX ^ baxteb's life. clarajion " to recommence preaching. Trusting in the word of a king, he removed to London, and preached as one of the lecturers at Pinners' Hall. He savs: "On the 19th of November (1672;, my baptism day, was the first day, after ten years' silence, that I preached in a tolerated assembly." On January 1673, he began a Tuesday lecture at Mr Turner's church in New Street, Fetter Lane, but " never took a penny of money for it irom any one." He had also a lecture at St James" ^klarket-House. In this neightx)urhf od his ministry was very extensively useful, though it was now illegal ; having been made so by the circumstance that the Parliament had annulled the King's Dispensing Declaration, and had passed the Test Act. Loformations were again laid against him, in which an Alderman of London, a Sir Thomas Da\-ies, figures as a beast of prey seeking whom he might devour, who distrained his goods for fifty pounds for preaching his lecture in New Street. In consequence of the dangerous state of his place of preaching at St James's, his fiiends pressed him to obtain another place, and Oienden chapel was built for him by their liberality. '* Mr Henry Coventry, one of his Majesty's principal secretaries, who had a house joining to it, and was a member of parliament, spake twice against it in the Parliament, but no one seconded him." Here he was incessantly worried by his persecutors. " I was so long wearied," he says, " with keeping my doors shut against them that came to distrain my goods for preaching, that I was fain to go from my house, and to sell all my goods, and to hide my library first, and aflterwards to sell it ; so that, if books had been my treasure (and I valued little more on earth), I had now been Avithout a treasure. For about twelve years. I was driven a hundred miles from them ; and when I had paid dear for the carriage, after two or three years I was forced to sell them.'' As an illustration of his dangers at Ox- enden Chapel, he gives the following account of ilr Seddon, who was to preach for him during his absence in the country : I had left word that if he would but step into ray house through a door, he was in no danger ; they not having power to break open any but the meeting-house. While he was preaching, three justices, supposed of Secretary Coventry's sending, came to the door to seize the preacher. They thought it had been I, and had prepared a warrant upon the Oxford Act to send me for sis weeks to the common jail." After the silence of a whole year, he opened another place of preacL'ng in the parish of St Martin. In the spring of 1676, Charles, utterly heedless of the word of a Christian king" given at Breda, urged all the judges and magistrates to put the laws against Nonconformists in strict execution, yet Baxter recommenced preach- ing ai a chapel in Swallow Street, while his o>vn stood empty, at the BAXTERrt LIFE. expense to him of thirty pounds a-year for ground rent. A fresh warrant was issued against him, and for twenty-four Sabbaths con- stables and beadles Avatched the chapel door to apprehend him. On the 14th of June 1681, Baxter sustained the irreparable loss of his excellent and heroic wife. She was buried in Cliristchurch, and Howe preached her funeral sermon. Her husband praised her in the gates, and in the sketch, of her character says, " She was the meetest helper that I could have had in the world." She was only forty when she died. On August 24, 1682, he preached his last sermon in New Street, " just that day twenty years that I, and near two thousand more, had been by law forbidden to preach." " I took that day leave of the pulpit and public work in a thankful congregation." *' When I had ceased preaching, and was nearly risen from ex- tremity of pain, I was suddenly surprised by a poor, violent in- former, and many constables and officers, who rushed in, appre- hended me, and served on me one warrant to seize my person for coming within five miles of a corporation, and five more warrants to distrain for a hundred and ninety pounds for five sermons." In this state he accompanied them to the magistrate to be sent to jail, but his physician meeting him, made oath that he could not go to prison without danger of death. The magistrates represented the affair to the King, and Charles consented that he should not be sent to prison for the present, that he might die at home. They, how- ever, seized his books and goods, and even the bed which he lay sick on, and sold them all. "I had no remedy but utterly to for- sake my house and goods and all, and take secret lodgings at a dis- tance, in a stranger's house." In 1684 he suffered similar treatment. " While I lay in pain and languishing, the justices of the session sent warrants to appre- hend me, about a thousand more being in catalogue to be bound to their good behaviour. I refused to open my chamber door to them, their warrant not being to break it open ; but they set six officers at my study door, who watched all night, and kept me from my bed and food ; so that the next day I yielded to them, who carried me, scarce able to stand, to the sessions, and bound me in four hundred pounds." Early in 1685 appeared his New Testament with Notes, and on February 28 he was committed to prison on a warrant from Judge Jefferies, on account of some sentiments in his Paraphrase. On the 18th of May, it was moved that, on account of his great bodily pains, further time might be given him before his trial. Judge Jefferies said, " I will not give him a minute's time more to save his life. Yonder stands Oates in ihe pillory, and he says he suffers BAXTER'S LIFE. for the truth, and so savs Baxter ; but if Baxter did but stand on the other side of the pillory with him, I would sav, two of the greatest rogues and rascals in the king;^om stood there." The trial came on at Guildhall on May 30, before JefFeries. Over every seat on which this erniined ruffian ever satm'ght be inscribed, " By appointment, Butcher to the Koyal Family." When Baxter's counsel was defending him, Jefieries said, " This is an old rogue, who has poisoned the world with his Kidderminster doctrine. An old schismatical knave, a hypocritical villain. Hang him, this one old fellow hath cast more reproach upon the constitution and discipline of our church than will be wiped otf this hundred years ; but I'll handle him for it ; for, by G , he deserves to be whipped through the city." When Baxter attempted to explain and vindicate him- self, Jefieries said to him, " Richard, Richard, dost thou think we'll hear thee poison the court ? Richard, thou art an old fellow, an old knave ; thou has written books enough to load a cart, every one is full of sedition, I might say treason, as an egg is full of meat. Hadst thou been whipped out of thy vTiting trade forty years ago, it had been happy. Thou hast one foot in the grave ; it is time for thee to begin to think what account thou intendest to give. But leave thee to thyself, and I see thou'lt go on as thou hast begim ; but, by the grace of God, I'll look after thee." After Jefieries had charged the jury in a most un-English and outrageous manner, Baxter said, " Does your Lordship think that any jury will pre- tend to pass a verdict upon me upon such a trial?" The ruffian replied, " I'll warrant you, Mr Baxter, don't you trouble your head about that." Jefieries was right, for without quitting the box, the jury found him " guilty." At this trial Sir Henry Ashurst, the son of Baxter's old and faithful friend, acted nobly, led the ve- nerable and injured friend of his father through the crowd, and con- veyed him honje in his own carriage. Baxter applied in vain to the Bishop of London to use his influence to obtain a new trial, or a milder judgment than was likely to be awarded to him by Jefi"eries. On the 29th of June his judgment was pronounced. He was to be fined five hundred pounds, to lie in prison till he paid it, and to be bound to his good behaviour for seven years. This award was one of the first acts of James II., who had ascended the throne on the 6th of February. The prosecution was promoted by the eftorts of L'Estrange, a name of some rank among the learned men of his day. Every thing contributed to render the trial of Baxter a burning stigma on the royalty, law, and literature of England. Baxter resolved to go to prison, for he could not pay the fine ; and even if he paid it, it was likely he would soon be prosecuted again. In prison he was visited by some of the clergy, who lamented Baxter's life. ±iS& his unjust verdict. He continued in his prison nearly two years, when Lord Powis used his influence at Court to procure his release. He left the prison on November 24, 1686. As a favour, King James allowed him to live in London, notwithstanding the Oxford Act ; and having lived for some months within the rules of the King's Bench, he removed on February 28 to Charterhouse Yard, and re- Bcwed his pulpit labours in company with Mr Sylvester. In these stirring times, Baxter's age, sufferings, infirmities, and persecutions, prevented him from taking much interest in the agita- tions and changes which were taking place around him. Neither James' downfall, nor the glorious Revolution of 1688, seems to have drawn forth any remark from his pen or his pulpit. The last mea- sure of legislation in which Baxter acted any part, was the Act of Toleration passed by William and Mary, which placed all Noncon- formists under the shield of the British constitution. The last re- ligions movement in which he interested himself, was the Bond of Agreement which was formed between the Presbyterians and Inde- pendents of London, memorable as commencing the name of Pres- byterians, properly so called, in England. In Charterhouse Square he lived near ^Ir Sylvester's meeting- house, where he preached gratuitously on Sunday mornings, and once a fortnight on Thursday mornings. After spending four years and a half in these engagements, he gave them up, and " opened his doors morning and evening every day " to all who would join him in fa- mily worship. Eventually his growing infirmities constrained him to give up this engagement, and confined him to his own chamber. " He continued to preach," says Dr Bates, " so long, notwithstand- ing his wasted, languishing body, that the last time he almost died in the pulpit. It would doubtless have been his joy to have been transfigured in the mount. Not long after, he felt the approaches of death, and was confined to his sick-bed. He said to his friends, ' You come hither to learn to die ; I am not the only person that must go this way. I can assure you that your whole life, be it ever so long, is little enough to prepare for death.' After a slumber he waked and said, ' I shall rest from my labour.' A minister then present said, ' and your works shall follow you.' To whom he replied, ' No works : I will leave out works, if God will grant me the other.'" When a friend reminded him of his past usefulness, he said, " 1 was but a pen in God's hands, and what praise is due to a pen ? " In the extremity of his agonies he would sometimes pray earnestly to God for a speedy release, and then he would check himself and say, " It is not fit for me to prescribe ; when thou wilt, what thou wilt, how thou wilt." He was once asked how he felt in his in- XXIV Baxter's ministry. ward man, and his reply was, " I bless God I have a well-grounded assurance of ray eternal happiness, and great peace and comfort within." On the day before his death, Dr Bates and Mr ^Mather o^ New England visited him. To them he expressed his great willing- ness to die ; and when the question was asked, How he did ? " liis answer was, " Almost well." This was on a Monday, and he had fully expected and hoped that he should have died on the preceding Sunday, which to Mr Sylvester he called " a high day," in the expectation of his joyful change. He languished through Monday, and on Tuesday, December 8, 1691, about four o'clock in the morn- ing, he had his last conflict with disease, languished into life, and the "Reformed Pastor" found himself in the " Saints' Everlasting Rest." His body was interred in Christ Church, with the body of his wife. Men of all ranks, and ministers of Nonconformist and of Con- formist orders attended his funeral. Two funeral sermons were preached for him ; one by his colleague, Mr Sylvester, and the other by his friend Dr Bates, both of which were published. CHAPTER II. BAXTER'S MINISTRY. If Whitefield is properly called the prince of preachers, Bax- ter deserves to be ranked as the prince of pastors. The Holy Spirit made him a model pastor, and in the ecclesiastical history of England, since the Reformation, no name can be mentioned as be- ing his equal in the pastorship. To form an adequate conception of his pastoral character, it is necessary first to read his own ideal of a Christian minister in his " Gildas Salvianus, or Reformed Pastor," and then to see his working out of that ideal in the " Reliquiie Bax- terianje," where he recounts his plans and methods of pastoral toil at Kidderminster. Baxter commenced his ministry as a Conformist. His family, though inclined to Puritanism, were all Conformists, and so M-ere all his connexions. The whole of his theological reading had been against Nonconformity. When he was about twenty years of age, he became acquainted with several able Nonconformist divines in Shropshire, and especially with the Rev. Walter Cradock, the apostle of Nonconformity in North Wales. In their society he found an atmosphere which was refreshing to every thing devout, BAXTERS MIXISTRY. XXT unearthly and holy, in his ovrn mind. The fers'id piety, the serious conversation, and the lofty devotion of these men raised them very highly in his esteem, and the ijrosecutions -which they suftered kindled his indignation against the hierarchy that oppressed them : but neither the holy character of the Shropshire Puritans, nor the persecuting disposition of the prelates, produced in him any scruples about conforming. To be a minister, he must be episcopally or- dained ; to be ordained, he must subscribe the Articles and the Liturgy — and to subscribe consent and assent to them he had no hesitation, because, says he, " I had never once read the Book of Ordination." In 1638, he -svas ordained at Worcester by Bishop Thornborough. The first sermon he ever preached was in the Upper Church at Dudley, while he was head master of the grammar school there. He laboured in that to^vn as a preacher -for about a year, but without any pastoral relation to the people. The next scene of his ministry was Bridgenorth, a town at that time full of public houses. He preached here for nearly two years to large congregations of ignorant and besotted people, with very few instances of success, and -w-ith many discouragements. It is still reported in Bridgenorth that when he preached his farewell ser- mon to the people, he remarked that their hearts were as hard as the sandstone rock on which their church is built. It was at Bridge- north that he became a Nonconformist. When, in 1640, regal tyranny and prelatical madness imposed upon the clergy the. noto- rious Et Caetera Oath ; * binding all the ministers of truth and liberty never to change their opinions concerning bishops, deans, &c., its ridiculous and wicked pretensions were carefully examined by the Salopian ConformisTs as*serabled at Bridgenorth. After this discus- sion, Baxter resolved that he would not subscribe the oath, and that he would honestly and manfully investigate the claims of Pre- lacy. He read with diligence and candour the works of distin- guished and learned Nonconformists, as well as those of able Epis- copalians, and he came to the conclusion that Diocesan Epis- copacy was of unscriptural origin, opposed to the simplicity of primitive pastorship, and subversive of scriptural discipline and order in the church. The Et Caetera Oath produced many results favourable to the progress of Nonconformity, and among its et caetera consequences one was the Presbyterianism of Baxter. On April 5, 1641, Baxter was appointed lecturer at Kidder- minster. His removal to this to^vn was brought about partly by the parliament, and partly by the people. The clergy, in every * One part of the oath ran tlius — " Xor will I ever give my consent to alter the government of this chui-ch by archbishops, bishops, deans, and archdeacons, (Sec, as it stands now established^ and ought to stand." xxvi Baxter's ministry. part of the country, were so ignorant and dissolute, that the parlia- ment appointed a committee to enquire into the religious state of the country, and to hear the complaints and the petitions of the people against their ministers. The inhabitants of Kidderminster availed themselves of this arrangement, and presented a petition against the Rev. Mr Dance, their minister, who was a drunkard, and who preached only once a quarter. This petition resulted in the com- mittee's invitation to Baxter to take the lectureship, which was seconded by an affectionate letter from the people of the town. Kidderminster had many attractions for Baxter : the town was large, and afforded an adequate sphere for his commanding talents ; the people were generally of a profligate character, for which his fervid and rousing preaching was well adapted ; and, among the inhabitants, there were a few who were sighing for the abominations of the place, and who would cheerfully welcome and further the efforts of a holy minister to do good. He commenced his ministry among them by preaching for one Sunday on probation, and was then cordially chosen by the people as their lecturer. He spent here two years, which proved, in the arrangement of Providence, a kind of disciplinary novitiate to his remarkable labours there at a subsequent period. His first labours at Kidderminster were interrupted and blasted by the unhappy rupture between Charles I. and the Parliament. When the first rumours of a civil war were heard in the moans of an oppressed people, Baxter began to deve- lopB some of the mental characteristics which marked the subse- quent history of his life ; for he sided with neither party, but found • fault with both. This was not from timidity ; much less was it from compromise ; but it was from his sincere desire to secure and promote peace on earth and good will among men. All the writ- ings of Baxter demonstrate that he was a firm and thorough friend to the cause of the parliament ; and that though he was loyal to the monarchy and the throne, he detested the consummate and heartless duplicity of Charles. All this the people of Kidderminster believed and Icnew ; and, therefore, when the king's declaration was one day being proclaimed at the market-place, just while Baxter was passing by, the officer who read it exclaimed, " there goes a traitor." The rabble, who already hated him on account of his serious and faithful preaching, responded immediately and heartily, " Down with the roundheads " — and then directed their march in pursuit of him, Avith the resolution to take away his life. As the town of Kidderminster, and indeed nearly every town in Worcester- shire were openly for the king, Baxter was advised to quit the place and retire from the county altogether. In the sketch of his life given in the preceding chapter, his re- Ij^Pl^ BAXTER 3 MINISTRY. XXVU tirement to Gloucester — ^his "brief return to Kidderminster — ^his preacliing at Alcester on the Sunday that the battle of Edgehill was fought — Ills first year at Coventry — his two months' sojourn at Shropshire at the siege of Wem — and his second year at Coventry, have been recorded. Irk all these wanderings he was ever faithful to the work of the ministry, preaching whenever he could and wherever he might — sometimes in towns, and sometimes in villages and rural hamlets ; now to soldiers in garrison, and anon to pea- sants in the highways and hedges. His village labours were car- ried on amidst many dangers, and especially at the hazard of appre- hension and imprisonment. As an instance of the state of the times, and as a memorial of the interposition of Providence in his behalf, the following anecdote is introduced on the authority of the Congregational Magazine.* The report is, that during Baxter's residence at Coventry, seve- ral of the Nonconformist ministers of that city united with him in preaching a lecture at a private house, on a neighbouring common. " The time of worship was generally a very early hour. Mr Bax- ter left Coventry in the evening, intending to preach the lecture the following morning. The night being dark, he lost his way ; and, after wandering ahout a considerable time, he came to a gentle- man's house, where he asked for direction. The servant who came to the door informed his master that a person of very respectable appearance had lost his way. The gentleman, thinking it would be unsafe for such a person to he wandering on the common at so late an hour, requested the servant to invite him in. Mr Baxter readily accepted the kind proposal, and met with a very hospitable recep- tion. His conversation was such as to give his host an exalted idea of his good sense, and his extensive information. The gentleman, wishing to know the quality of his guest, said, after supper, ' as most persons have some employment or profession in life, I have no doubt, sir, that you have yours.' Mr Baxter replied, with a smile, ' Yes, sir, I am a man catcher.' ' A man catcher,' said the gen- tleman, ' are you ? I am very glad to hear you say so, for you are the very person I want. I am a Justice of the Peace in this district, and am commissioned to secure the person of Dick Baxter, who is expected to preach at a conventicle in this neighbourhood early to- morrow morning ; you shall go with me, and, I doubt not, we shall easily apprehend the rogue.' Mr Baxter very prudently consented to accompany him. " Accordingly, the gentleman, on the following morning, took Mr Baxter in his carriage to the place where the meeting was to be * Congr. Mag. vol. iii. c xxviii BAXTER'S MINISTRY. held. Wlien they arrived at the spot, they saw a considerable num- ber of people hovering about ; for seeing the carriage of the Justice, and suspecting his intentions, they were afraid to enter the house. The J ustice, observing this, said to Mr Baxter — ' I am afraid that they have obtained some information of my design ; Baxter has probably been apprised of it, and therefore will not fulfil his en- gagement ; for you see the peojile will not go into the house. I think, if we extend our ride a little farther, our departure may encourage them to assemble, and on our return we may fulfil our commission.' When they returned, they found their efforts useless, for the people still appeared unwilling to assemble. " The magistrate, thinking he should be disappointed of the object he had in view, observed to his companion, that, as the people were very much disaffected to Government, he would be much obliged to him to address them on the subject of loyalty and good behaviour. Mr Baxter replied, that perhaps this would not be deemed sufficient ; for, as a religious service was the object for which they were met together, they would not be satisfied with advice of that nature : but, if the magistrate would begin with prayer, he would then endeavour to say something to them. The gentleman rej)lied, putting his hand to his pocket, ' Indeed, sir, I have not got my pi-ayer book with me, or I would readily comply with your proposal. However, I am persuaded that a person of your appearance and respectability would be able to pray with them as well as to talk to them. I beg, therefore, tliat you will be so good as to begin with prayer.'. This being agreed to, they alighted from the carriage and entered the house, and the people, hesitating no longer, immediately followed them. Mr Baxter then commenced the service, and prayed with that seriousness and fervour for which he was so eminent. The magis- trate, standing by, was soon melted into tears. The good divine then preached in his accustomed lively and zealous manner. When he had concluded, he turned to the Justice and said, ' Sir, I am the very Dick Baxteu of whom you are in pursuit. I am entirely at your disposal.' The magistrate, however, had felt so much during the service, and saw things in so different a light, that he laid aside all his enmity to the Nonconformists, and ever afterwards became their sin- cere friend and advocate, and it is believed also a decided Christian." Baxter commenced his ministry in Coventry on the condition that he should neither be obliged to take a commission in the army nor be appointed a chaplain to a regiment. His duties were to preach once a-week to the soldiers, and once on the Sabbaths to the town's people. For his labours he took no remuneration but his diet. In this garrison he followed his studies, he says, " as quietly as in the Baxter's ministry. ytit time of peace." Affer the battle of Naseby, fought while he was at Coventiy, his scruples to join the army gave way before what he heard and saw on visiting Cromwell's troops near Leicester. He found that the church in the army Avas a different thing from the church amid citizens and peasantry. He was astonished and grieved to hear civil and religious liberty openly, freely, and man- fully discussed by the soldiers. " I heard," he says, " the plotting heads hot upon that which intimated their intention to subvert Church and State ;" and these were Cromwell's chief favourites, and they were the soul of the army, though in number they were only as one to twenty. Several officers pressed him to join the army, and after consulting his ministerial friends in Coventry, and obtain- ing the reluctant consent of the city garrison to release him, he joined it as chaplain to Colonel Whalley's regiment. Among his friends in the garrison, he said expressly that he attached himself to the army for the purpose of doing his best against its sectarian tendencies. On hearing him. Colonel Purefoy said very magisterially, " Let me hear no more of that. If Nol Cromwell should hear any soldier but speak such a word, he would cleave his crown." On joining the army, he was introduced to Cromwell, who received him very coolly, and never afterwards conversed with him, nor was he ever allowed an opportunity to attend the meetings of the officers at head quarters. It is not unlikely that Colonel Pure- foy had communicated Baxter's designs to Cromwell, and this was the reason of the coolness ; but another fact might also be in the recollection of Cromwell which would induce him to treat the divine with some reserve. AVhen Cromwell lay at Cambridge, he collected his first troop of Ironsides, which he and his officers tried to form into a church ; that is, a troop of church members, a literally militant church, or fighting congregation. This troop invited Baxter, while at Coventry, to become its pastor. In reply, he not only declined their invitation, but rebuked them for their constitution, and for their designs. This peevish denial and ill-timed reproof are enough to account for the coolness with which he was received by the army. His ministry in the army was an utter failure. He was too belli- gerent in polemic theology, and too much of a field-marshal in logic, to maintain successfully a ministry of peace among soldiers, and espe- cially among the independent Ironsides. In his ministerial labours, he set himself to discover the ecclesiastical corruptions of the soldiers — disputed with the troops upon all points, political as well as religi- ous — contended against all varieties of opinions among them, whether Antinomianism, Arminianism, or Quakerism and Anabaptism, but especially against Voluntaryism. In describing the army, he says, " The most frequent and vehement disputes were for liberty of xxxii Baxter's ministry. upon earnest prayers." " After abundance of distempers and lan- guisliings, I fell at last into a flux hepaticus, and after that into manifold dangers necessarily too long to be cited." He bad very distressing headaches, and a stomach so disordered, that " a spoon- ful of -vvine would disturb him for a -whole fortnight." His body "svas indeed a body of death, a vUe body, sufficient to clog any soul, and to -weigh do^\'n any common pastor. In addition to all the pains endured, let it be remembered what debilitating influence such a body would have upon the mind and upon the temper, indisposing the mind to work, and souring the temper against aU pastoral in- tercourse with his people. Such was the man who regenerated Kidderminster. It is now to be seen what he did, and how he did it. It Avas remarked at the commencement of this Essay, that one purpose of its being -written was to interest young ministers in the pastoral character of Baxter. To promote this purpose, it is thought desirable to pla-ce the ele- ments of his extensive usefulness in an adjusted order, that they might be apprehended with, the greatest possible distinctness. This is the reason why they are arranged xmder separate and distinct heads. I. Baxter's plans of usefulness. The methods which he adopted for the regeneration of Kidder- minster are the following : — 1. Before the wars he preached twice every Lord's day, and af- terwards once a Sabbath. 2. On Monday and Tuesday in each week, his assistant and him- self took fourteen families between them for catechising and confer- ence : Baxter taking the to-wn, and the assistant the parish. In these visits he heard them recite the words of the catechism, and then examined them in the meaning of it, and finally urged them to practise what they knew. He spent about an hour -with each family, making seven hours a day. 3. He preached a lecture every Thursday morning ; and aftlr the lecture had " the company of several godly ministers, with whom he spent the afternoon in the truest recreation." 4. Every Thursday evening he had his neighbours to meet him at his own house. On these occasions one of them repeated the leading thoughts of the sermon that had been preached in the morn- ing ; and others proposed their difficulties, and cases of conscience. These meetings closed by one or more engaging in extempore prayer, and sometimes he himself prayed. BAXTER'S MINISTRY. xxxiii 5. Once a-week the young people met a few of the members more privately, when they spent three hours in prayer together ; and, especially on Saturday night, they met at some of their houses to repeat the sermons of the last Lord's day, and to pray, and prepare themselves for the morrow. 6. Once in a few weeks, Baxter and. his people held, on some oc- casion or other, a day of humiliation and jTl-ayer. 7. Every religious woman that was safely delivered in childbirth, if able, kept a day of open thanksgiving with some of her neighbours, praising God, singing psalms, and soberly feasting together. 8. On the first Wednesday in every month was held the monthly meeting for parish discipline. 9. Every first Thursday in the month was the Minister's meeting for discipline and disputation, and mutual conference, at which ho was "almost constant moderator;" and for which he generally pre- pared a written determination. This was indeed a week well filled up, and well spent. His only time for study was Monday, after spending seven hours in pastoral visit; Tuesday the same; Wednesday entirely, except the first Wednesday in the month ; and the whole of Friday and Satur- day. When his manifold labours, his intense sufferings, his labo- rious preparations, are taken into consideration, his industry must appear stupendous, and his economy of time virtuously avaricious. In his visitation to any district of the town, he expected to see every family, and he was resolved to have an interview with them, if possible. As an instance of this resolution, the following anecdote is current in Shropshire. In some streets, he found some families so obdurate that they refused him admission, and the door was con- tinued closed as long as he was known to be in the neighbourhood. In such cases, his practice was, on another day, to enter some friendly house which commanded a view of the door that had been closed against him, and. thence watch to see if the door were open or on the jar ; and whenever he saw the door partly open, he seized the opportunity, entered the house, and had religious con- versation with the inmates. II. BAXTER'S SUCCESS. Having presented his plans and methods of labour, it is now pro- per to notice how they Avorked, and to record the amount of his success. In reference to his success, he says — " I have mentioned my sweet and acceptable employinent, let me, to the praise of my gracious Lord, acquaint you with some of my success. And I will baiter's in>nsTKT. not suppress it, though I foreknow that the malignant will impute the mention of it to pride and ostentation ; for it is the sacrifice of thanksgiving which I owe to mv gracious God, which I will not denj him for fear of being censured as proud, lest I prove mjself proud indeed." 1. His public preaching met with great acceptance. He was popular in the town, and even those that were so hostile to him before the wars, not only became tractable, but also attended his miuistrv. 2. The congregation increased, and became so numerous that five galleries were built in succession to accommodate the crowds that attended, though the church itself was large and commodious. Even at the private meetings tlie place was well attended. 3. No disorder was to be seen on the street on the Lords day. He says — " You might hear an hundred families singing psalms, and repeating sermons, as you passed through the streets." *' ^^*hen I came thither first, there was about one family in a street that worshipped God, and called on his name ; and when I came away, there were some streets where there was not past (/. e. more than) one family in the side of a street that did not so. "' This was the case even with the inns and public-houses of the town. 4. The number of his regular communicants averaged sixteen hun- dred ; of whom," he says, " there was not t^velve that I had not good hopes of as to their sincerity." 5. hen he began personal conference with each family, and catechised them, there were very few families in all the town that refused to come ; and they consisted chiefly of beggars and paupers who lived in the outskirts of the town. Scarcely a family left his presence '* without some tears, or seemingly serious promises of a serious life." 6. Some of the poor people became so versed in theological ques- tions as " competently to understand the body of divinity," and were able to judge in difficult controversies. " Some of them were so able in prayer, that very few ministers did match them in order and fulness, and apt expressions, and holy oratory, with fervency." — ** The temper of their minds, and the innocency of their Hves, was much more laudable than tlieir parts." 7. The lectures which he preached in his itinerant efforts at Wor- cester, Cleobury, Shiflnall, and especially Dudley, gave him great encouragement. At Dudley he says. '* the poor nailers and la- bourers would not only crowd the church as full as ever I had seen in London, but would also hang on the ^vindows and leads without." 8. His success among his ministerial brethren was as great as among private Christian?. Their meetings were " never conten- BAXTEn's MIXISTRY. XXXV tioiis, but always comfortable." " We took," he says, " great de- light in the company of each other, so that I know that the remem- brance of those days is pleasant both to them and me." — " When I attempted to bring them all conjunctly to the work of catechizing and insti-ucting every family by itseh", I found a ready consent in most, and performance in many." 9. As Baxter became a model Pastor, the church at Kiddermin- ster became a model Church to the surrounding congregations. " The zeal and knowledge of this poor people," he says, " provoked many in other parts of the land. And though I have been absent from them now six years, and they have been assaulted Avith pulpit calumnies, and slanders, with threatenings and imprisonments, with enticing words and seducing reasonings, they yet stand fast, and keep to their integrity. Many of them are gone to God, and some are removed, and some are now in prison, and most still at home ; but not one that I hear of are fallen off, or forsake their upright- ness." It would be wrong to close this account of Baxter's success with- out stating the devout feelings with which he recorded it. "I must here, to the praise of my dear Redeemer, set up this pillar of remembrance, even to his praise, who hath employed me so many years in so comfortable a work, -with such encouraging success ! O what am I, a worthless worm, not only wanting academical hon- ours, but much of that furniture which is needful to so high a work, that God should thus abundantly encourage me, when the reverend instructors of my youth did labour fifty years together in one place, and could scarcely say that they had converted one or two of their parishes ! And the greater >Tas this mercy, because I was naturally of a discouraged spirit ; so that if I had preached one year, and seen no fruit of it, L should hardly have forborne running away like Jo- nah, but should have thought God had not called me to that place." III.— BAXTERS ADVANTAGES. In surveying the wonderful success of Baxter, and in wishing to adopt his plans of usefulness, many young ministers would be glad to know what were the peculiar advantages of his position which contributed to the efficiency of his ministry. He himself has recorded thirty of these advantages, which will now be presented in his own arrangement, and, for distinctness' sake, in his own enu- meration. 1. His going to a people who were not previously hardened by the Gospel. — " I'came to a people that never had any awakening mi- xxxvi Baxter's mims. ry. nistry before, but afew formal cold sermons of the curate. If they had been hardened imder a poAverful ministry, and been sermon proof, I should have expected less." This language was occasioned by his bitter remembrance of Bridgenorth. 2. His affectionate and serious style of preaching. — " I was in the vigour of my spirits, arid had naturally a familiar moving voice, which is a great matter with the common hearers ; and doing all in bodily weakness as a dying man to dj-ing men." " It must be serious preaching which must make men serious in hearing and obepng it." 3. The removal and disappearance of the profane rabble out of the town. — " Those who had risen in tumult against me at first, and Avho were the enemies of all godliness in the toAvn, went, from the very hatred of the Puritans, to the wars, and perished in battle." 4. Freedom of conscience and liberty of prophesying under the reign of Cromwell. — Baxter himself bears testimony that the suc- cess of the Parliament in the civil wars " removed many and great impediments to men's salvation." Somewhere between the niches allotted for Charles the First and Charles the Second, in the New Houses of Parliament, where, as an insult to the civil and religious liberties of England, a statue was denied Cromwell, a tablet should be placed bearing in letters of gold the following testimony of Bax- ter : — " Though Cromwell gave liberty to all sects among us, and did not set up any party alone by force, yet this much, gave abun- dant advantage to the Gospel [viz.], removing the prejudices and the terrors that liindered it ; especially considering that godliness had countenance, and reputation also, as weU as liberty." " For my part, I bless God Avho gave me, even under an usurper whom I opposed, such liberty and advantage to preach his Gospel with success, which I cannot have under a King to whom I have sworn and performed subjection and obedience ; yea [liberty and advan- tage] which no age, since the Gospel came into this land, did before possess, as far as I can learn from history." 5. The esteem and veneration in wliich he was personally held by all. — " It is almost certain that the gratefulness of the person doth ingratiate the message, and greatly prepares the people to re- ceive the truth. Had they taken me to be ignorant, erroneous, scandalous, worldly, self-seeking, &c., I could have expected small success." 6. The co-operation and zeal of . his people. — These " thirsted for the salvation of their neighbours, and were, in private, my assistants ; and..being dispersed through the town, were ready, in almost all companies, to repress seducing words, and to justify god- liness, to convince, reprove, and exhort men according to their needs ; as also, to teach them how to pray." Baxter's siinistry. xxxvii 7. The consistent lives of the members of his church. — " The malicious people could not say, ' Your professors here are as proud and covetous as any.' The blameless lives of godly people did shame opposers." 8. The absence of sectarian bigotry in the town. — " We had no private church, though we had private meetings. We had not pastor against pastor, nor church against church, nor sect against sect, nor Christian against Christian." 10. The private meetings which he held with religious people. — These were meetings for religious conversation, and for the friendly discussion of some important point of doctrine. " Here I had an opportunity to know their case ; for if any were touched and awakened in public, I should presently see him drop into our pri- vate meetings." 11. The diligence and laboriousness of his ministerial assistants. These deserve honourable mention ; they were successively Mr Richard Sergeant and Mr Humphrey Waldern. ' In speaking of Mr Sergeant, he says, — " No child ever seemed more humble. No interest of his own, either of estate or reputation, did ever seem to stop him in his duty. No labour did he ever refuse which I could put him to. When I put him to travel over the parish, which is nearly twenty miles about, from house to house, to catechize and instruct each family, he never grudged or seemed once unwilling. He preached at a chapel above two miles off one-half the day, and in the town the other, and never murmured ;" " Mr Humphrey Waldern was very much like him." 12. The countenance of the magistrates of the place. " A bailif and a justice were annually chosen in the corporation, who ordi- narily were godly men, and always such as would be thought so and were ready to use their authority to suppress sin and promote godliness." This was in perfect keeping with Baxter's views on the authority of the magistrate in religion ; though it would be dis- puted by most Independents. 13. His generous liberality to the poor. The living was thought to be worth L.200 per annum, but only L.90, and sometimes only L.80 came to Baxter. His published works brought him in some- times L.60, and sometimes L.80 per annum. Some of the cle- verest children he sent to the universities, " where, for L.8 a-year, or L.IO at most, by the help of my friends there, I maintained them." " Some of them are honest ministers, now cast out with their brethren." ' " In giving what little I had, I did not inquire whether they were good or bad, if they asked relief : For the bad had souls and bodies that needed charity most. And this truth I will speak to the encouragement of the charitable, that what little money I have now by me, I got it almost all, I scarce know how, xxxviii BAXTER'S MIXISTKY. in that time when I gave most. And since I have had less oppor- tunity of giving, I have had less increase." 14. The free distribution and circulation of his practical writings among the inliabitants. Of all his smaller publications he presented a copy to each family among his people, " which came to about eight himdred." 15. The facilities for reading afforded by the particular trade of the town. In those days hand-looms allowed the people " time enough to read, and to talk of holy things ;" but the wheels and spindles of power looms are not so accommodating. " The town liveth upon the weaving of Kidderminster stuffs, and as they stand in their loom, they can set a book before them, or edifie one an- other." " And their constant converse and traffic vdth London doth much promote civility and piety among tradesmen." 16. His single life. "For I could the easilier take my people for my children ; and being discharged from the most of family cares, keeping but one servant, had the greater vacancy and liberty for the labours of my calling." 17. His practice of physic. He found that " they that cared not for their souls did love their lives, and care for their bodies." " Sometimes I could see before me in the church a very consider- able part of the congregation, whose lives God had made me a means to save, or to recover their health. And doing it for nothing so obliged them, that they would readily hear me." 18. The influence of his young converts upon their relations. In the to^Ti there were few irreligious families "but some of their own relations were converted. Many children did God work upon at fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen years of age ; and this did marvellously reconcile the minds of the parents, and elder sort to godliness. They that would not hear me would hear their own children." " We liad some old persons of near eighty years of age who are, I hope, in heaven ; and the conversion of their own children was the chief means to overcome their prejudice, and old customs and conceits." 19. Afflictions in families. " Though sick-bed promises are usually soon forgotten ; yet was it otherwise ivith many among us. And as soon as they were recovered, they first came to our private meetings, and so kept in a learning state, till further fruits of piety appeared." 20. His bearing a public testimony against the iniquity of the times. Here he refers to Cromwell's army marching against the Parliament — to the execution of Charles I. — to the invasion of Scotland, &c., and says, " Had I owned the guilt of others, it would have been my shame, and the hindrance of my work, and provoked God to have disowned me." In his view, pulpit protests against ini- quitous govemmMits were not likely to injure ministerial usefulness. Baxter's ministry. 21. The character of the minister^ around" him. " Their preach- ing was powerful and soher ; tlieir spirits peaceable and meek ; dis- owning the treasons and iniquities of the times, as well as we. They were wholly addicted to the winning of souls : adhering to no fac- tion, neither episcopal, presbyterian, or independent, as to parties, but desiring union, and loving that which is good in all. These, meeting weekly at our lecture (in Kidderminster), and monthly at our disputation, constrained a reverence in the people to their Avorth and unity, and consequently furthered my work." 22. The reproach and ridicule which intemperance brought upon itself. " There were two drunkards almost at the next doors to me, who, one by night, and the other by day, did constantly every week, if not tAvice or thrice a-week, roar and rave in the street like stark madmen. These were so beastly and ridiculous that they made that sin, of which we were in most danger, the more abhorred." 23. The character and the fate of apostates and backsliders in the neighbourhood. " They that fell off were such as, before, by their want of grounded understanding, humility, and mortification, gave us the greatest suspicion of their stability." " As they fell from the faith, so they fell to drinking, gaming, furious passions, horribly abusing their wives, &c. — and so to a vicious life. So that they stood up as pillars of God's justice to warn others." 24. The closeness of his appeals in his pastoral visits. In these visits he had " personal conference with every family apart, and q^techising and instructing them. That which was spoken to them personally, awakened more attention, and was easier applied than public preaching, and seemed to do much more upon them." 25. The firm maintenance of Church discipline among the mem- bers of his congregation. His system of discipline was somewhat doubtful for a parish Presbyterian, but the advantages of it to his ministry were the following, as stated by himself. (1.) ""We performed a plain command of Clirist, and we took obedience to be better than sacrifice. (2.) We kept the church from irregular separations, &c. (3.) helped to cure that dangerous disease among the people, of imagining that Christianity is but a matter of opinion and dead belief; and to convince them how much it con- sisteth in holiness, &c. (4.) We greatly suppressed the practice of sin, and caused people to walk more watchfully than else they would have done." 26. The wise adaptation of his ministry to the circumstances of his hearers. This he did, he says, " by ordering my doctrine to them in a suitableness to the main end, and yet so as might suit their dispositions and diseases. The thing Avhich I daily opened to them, and, with the greatest importunity, laboured to imprint on their minds, was the great fundamental principles of Christianity xl BAXTER "S MIXISTKT. contained in their baptismal covenant." — '* Yet I did usually put in something in my sermon, which was above their own discovery, and which thev had not known before ; and this I did that they might be kept humble, and still perceive their ignorance, and be willing to be kept in a learning state.'' 27. The absence of wealthy men in his church. Mv people were not rich." — *• There were none of the tradesmen very rich, seeing their trade was poor, that would but find them food and rai- ment. The magistrates of the town were, few of them, worth L.40 per annum, and most not half so much. Three or four of the rich- est thriving masters of the trade got about L.500 or L,600 in twenty -years, and it may be lose L.lOO of it at once by an ill debtor. The generality of the master workmen lived but a little better than their journeymen, from hand to month.*' — '* It is the poor that receive the glad tidings of the gospel, and that are usually rich in faith. As Mr George Herbert saith in his Church ^lili- tant — ' Gold and the gospel never did agree. Religion always sides with poverty.' " 28. His abstaining from all money agitations with his people. He avoided " meddling with tithes and worldly business, whereby I had my whole time, except what sickness deprived me of, for my duty, and my mind more free from entanglements, than else it would have been. And also I escaped the offending of the people. And I found also that nature itself being conscious of the baseiress of its earthly disposition, doth think basely of those whom it discemeth to be earthly." — A^ an instance of his in- difference to money, he gives the following racy account of his do- mestic life, while a bachelor. " In my family, I had the help of my father, and mother-in-law, and the benefit of a godly, tmder- stinding, faithful servant, an ancient woman, near sixty years old, who eased me of all care, and laid out all my money for house- keeping, so that I never had one hour's trouble about it, nor ever took one day's account of her for fourtetn years together, as being c'ertain of her fidelity, providence, and skiU." 29. His continuing his ministry so long in one place. He was at Kidderminster " near two years before the war, and fourteen after." — '* He that removeth oft from place to place may sow good seed in many places, but is not like to see much fruit in any, tmless some other skilfiJ hand shall follow him to water it. It wa&a great advantage to me to have all the religious people of the place of my own instructing and informing ; and that I stayed to see them grown up to some confirmedness and maturity." 30. His itinerant labours in the surrounding towns and villages. Baxter's mixistey. xli Baxter and his brethren had a regiilar system of itinerancy for the county. In speaking of these country lectures, he says — " To di- vers of them I went as oft as I was able, and the neighbour minis- ters oftener than I." — " This business also we contrived to be uni- versally and regularly managed ; for, besides the lectures set up on week days fixedly in several places, we studied how to have it ex- tended to every place in the coimty that had need. This lecture did a great deal of good ; and we continued it voluntarily till the ministers were turned out, and all these works went down to- gether." This concise but well-defined outline of Baxter's labours and usefulness contains nothing singular in the advantages of his posi- tion, — nothing novel or extravagant in the machinery of his means. His plans were simple, and his advantages were almost common to every faithful pastor ; but his success is extraordinary, and its in- fluence is yet telling throughout England and the Protestant world. Tlie efficiency of his plans is found in his own masculine mind, and manly piety, baptized with the Holy Ghost and with fire. His ma- chinery was plain, but every Avheel and pin in it was of the best gold ; was all worked by a living and indefatigable heart, and that heart moved by the Holy Ghost. He mentions thirty advantages which contributed to his success : but one more might have been added to his enumeration, which perhaps his holy modesty prevented him from recording, — and that, the thirty-first, was his preaching talents. He was an effective preacher, as well as an efficient pas- tor. Under the heads 3 and 26 he makes allusions to his preach- ing, such as his " familiar moving voice," his " dealing in fundamen- tals," &c. ; but they are mere allusions, which give us no full con- ception of Baxter in the pulpit. His Avorks are the best index to his preaching, for he delivered from .the pulpit the greater part of his practical publications ; and he says, that, except when diseased or idle, he wrote out all his sermons, and read them as they were written. His printed sermons demonstrate that his discourses were distinguished for three great principles of effective preaching — sim- plicity of style, directness of purpose, and earnestness of manner. Baxter's own immortal lines will explain the simplicity of his style in the pulpit — " I preached, as never sure to preach again, And as a dying man to dying men." His language was sound, chaste, and vigorous Saxon, used with- out the Latin idioms of Owen, or the majestic negligence of Howe. He preached Christ crucified in a crucified style, without ever di- d slii BAXTERS MIXISTRT. verting his hearers by extravagance, or offending them by coarse- ness. He never ranged over poetical fields to cull flowers fur his sermons. All his flowers, and many of them are of the loveliest and freshest hues, grew out of his subject ; and" there he let them stand, because they were either medicinal, or nourishing, to his hearers, as Avell as beautiful to their sight. He preached as feeling that the truths of God were too great and too glorious in themselves to be covered up with the little trappings of human adornments. He would as soon have thought of hanging the rainbow -w^th corals, as of dressing the cross of Christ with tinsel. His eloquence consisted in rit thoughts, and not in rounded sentences. Consummate and ready dialectician as he was, he very rarely or never introduced metaphy- sics into his sermons. Sometimes indeed, as has been recorded, he would say something profound or abstruse, just to convince his hearers that his plain preacliing and his simple style were not to be traced either to a feeble intellect, or to superficial knowledge ; still he was never a metaphysical essaj-ist in the pulpit. He never preached a sermon to display his scholastic learning, or his powers of logic ; but his aim was ever to -win souls to Christ. If fine and elegant sermons are tolerable at all, it is in the press only, when they are to be read as discussions of a subject, and read either as an intellectual exercise or as a discipline of conscience. In the pulpit splendid SQj-mons are splendid sins. They dazzle, and amuse, and astonish, like brilliant tu-e-works, but they throw daylight on no subject. They draw attention to the preacher, instead of to the gospel. The splendid preacher, lil;e the P}T0technist, calculates on a dark night among his attendants ; and amid the corruscations of the pulpit, his skill and his art are admired and applauded, but Christ is not glorified. If angels weep and devils mock, it is at the pulpit door ol' a splendid preacher. His sermons are all distinguished for directness of purpose, and singleness of aim. He neither preached about his hearers nor at them, but to them. Even wheii recording his having preached at court in the days of the Commonwealth, he says that he " preached to Cromwell," and not before him. Neither did he preach above or beside his audience ; but they, like the hearers of our Lord, " per- ceived that he meant them."' It was the boast of the Benjamites that they could shoot their arrows at an object to the breadth of a hair ; but it seems the pride of many pulpit-archers that they can shoot many degrees above their targets. In their pulpit parades their shafts are polished, but they pierce none. The plaudits of the archer are loud and long ; but, after the whole quiver is exhausted, no groans of the wounded are heard, crving for relief and life. In the ministry, every honest preacher must aim at success ; and he must never misinterpret the scripture narrative of a certain man who drew BAXTER'S MINISTRY. xliii an arrow at a venture, to justify desultory sermons or aimless preaching. All Baxter's sermons have a given and intelligible aim, which stood distinctly and prominently before his" eye, and that was the heart or the conscience. He aimed at producing impression, and producing Avhile he was yet speaking ; he, therefore, never sent his hearers home to decide, but always insisted on " Now or never." In preaching, Baxter's heart burnt within him ; and while he was speaking, a live coal from the altar fired his sermon with seraphic fervour. Into his pulpit he brought all the energies and sympathies of his entire nature. He had a large mind, an accute intellect, a melting heart, a holy soul, a kindling eye, and a " moving voice" — and he called on all that was within him to aid him in his preach- ing. Being deeply earnest himself, he wished liis hearers to be deeply earnest. Himself being a burning light, he ^^-ished to flash the hallowed fire into the hearts of others. He seems never to have studied action or " the start theatric." The only teacher that gave him lessons in action and attitude was feeling — real, genuine, holy feeling : and this taught him how to look, how to move, and how to speak. In preaching, as well as in every thing religious, he be- lieved with Paul, that " it is good to be always zealously affected ;" and, consequently, that earnest fers-id preaching is truly apostolic. Would God that there had been in the church of Christ a real unin- terrupted succession in the fervour of apostolic preaching, and that the mantle of apostolic Elijahs had been taken up by succeeding Elishas, and by m^n like ApoUos, " an eloquent man, and mighty in the Scripture, who being fen-ent in spirit, spake and taught dili- gently the things of the Lord." The modern mode of preaching is more like Joseph's coat of many colours, than lilvC Elijah's mantle, which raised the dead — it has never descended from a chariot of fire, and it is so flimsy, that it gives neither heat nor warmth even to the preacher himself. Hear Baxter's o-v\ti heart-stirring thoughts on the best style of preaching.* How few ministers do preach with all their might ? Or speak about everlasting joy or torment, in such a manner as to make men believe that they are in good sadness. It would make a man's heart ache to see a company of dead and drowsy sinners sit under a minister, and not have a word that is like to quicken or awaken them. To think with ourselves, 0 if these sinners tuere but convinced and awakened, they might yet he converted and live. And alas ! we speak so drowsily or gently, that sleepy sinners cannot hear. The blow falls so light, that hard-hearted persons cannot feel it. Most ministers will not so much as put out their voice and * Reformed Bastor, Chap. iv. Sect. 6. xliv Baxter's theology. stir up themselves to an earnest utterance. But if they do speak out loud and earnestly, how few do answer it with earnestness of matter ? and then the voice doth but little good : the people will take it but for mere bawling, when the matter doth not correspond. It would grieve me to hear what excellent doctrines some ministers have in hand, and let it die in their hands, for want of close and lively application. What fit matter they have for convincing sin- ners, and how little they make of it ; and what a deal of good it might do, if it were sent home ; and yet they cannot or -vvill not do it. Oh sirs ! how plain, how close, and earnestly should we de- liver a message of snch a nature as ours is ? When the everlasting life or death of men is concerned in it, methinks we are no where so wanting as in this seriousness. There is nothing more unsuit- able to such a business than to be slight and dull. "Wliat ! speak coldly for God ! and for mens salvation ! Can we believe that our people must be converted or condemned, and yet can we speak in a drowsy tone ! In the name of God, brethren, labour to awaken your hearts before you come ; and when you are in the work, that you may be fit to awaken the hearts of sinners. Remember that they must be awakened or damned ; and a sleepy preacher will hardly awake them." CHAPTER III. « Baxter's theology. In writing an essay on Baxter, it would be as wrong to omit his Theology, as it Avould be to omit philosophy in an essay on Bacon, or epic poetry in one on Milton. It was his theology that brought upon him assaults and onslaughts from all sects and divisions of the militant church in his own age. It is on account of his theology that a deep, strong, and general prejudice is cherished and expressed to this day. In fact, it is his theology that constitutes his indivi- duality in History. By JBaxter, every divine means Baxter's theo- logy. As by Melancthon, one means the " Communes Loci ;" and by Calvin, the " Institutes ;" so by Baxter, the theological reader means "the Aphorisms on Justification," and the devotional reader means, " the Saint's Rest," or " the Reformed Pastor." It is not likely that this volume will come into the hands of any one reader who has not some lurking and undefined prejudice against Baxter, and that solely on account of his theology. To render this volume, therefore, useful to such a reader, it is neces- sary that some notice should be taken ^of Baxter's Theology. Baxter's theology. xlv In theological science Baxter was a Thinker. He did not sa- tisfy himself with reading and collecting the thoughts of otlier di- vines, but he thought out their thoughts, and he digested their master doctrines, until they gave him strength and stature, and be- came part and parcel of his own gigantic mind. Some minds, like the bookworm, penetrate through musty volumes and ponderous tomes; and in their progress they devour syllables, words, and even whole sentences, but they themselves do not grow one cubit in thought. A living, thinking mind is not so. Whenever the thoughts of others get a lodgement in a healthy mind, as seed in a fertile soil, they produce other thoughts, and these thoughts are that mind's own thoughts, its own produce, and its own seed for a further harvest. This was the case with Baxter. He roamed through the varied domains of thought, and schoolmen, and divines, and collected the thoughts of others more exclusively and successfully, perhaps, than any theologian of his age :— but he had also thoughts of his own, thoughts which had all the vigour and raciness of the Baxterian mind, and these thoughts he worked out with a power, and inde- pendency, and a courage, which entitle him to all the distinction of an original Theologian. In the breadth and the depth of theology as a science, Baxter had no divine of his age that surpassed him : perhaps the truth would warrant the assertion, that in bi'cadth and depth, he had none equal to him. Usher was probably equal to him in the depth of theolo- gical dogmatics, and surpassed him in general knowledge. Jeremy Taylor was equal to • him in the breadth of scholastic literature, and surpassed him in the brilliancy of amassed thoughts. But in both length and breadth, neither of them surpassed him ; for every theological reader will allow that Baxter is more profound than Taylor, and more comprehensive than Usher. Among the Non- conformists, also, there were many who excelled him in some things ; as Owen in Greek exegesis, Howe in loftiness of thought, Goodwin in evangelical savour, and Flavel, in gentle sweetness ; but none of them equalled him in all. His only real rival among the Nonconformists was Dr Owen ; and it is a fact that, among religious parties two centuries ago, and among the evangelical readers of our own day, Owen was, and has been, a far greater favourite than Baxter. One of the most re- markable circumstances in this fact is that, even with Arminian divines, the Calvinistic Owen is in far greater acceptance than the eclectic Baxter. The reason is, that Owen studied the Christology of Redemption more than Baxter ; and Baxter studied the Anthro- pology of salvation more than Owen. Owen exhibits with much richness and amplitude what Christ did for the redemption of man. Baxter takes all this for granted, and, taking his position at the xlvi BAXTERS THEOLOGY. cross of Christ, addresses a Call to the Unconverted and est- plains and enforces the obligations of redeemed man to believe the testimony of God concerning his Son. The -cold reception of Bax- ter, and the warm acceptal;)leness of Owen, therefore, with Armi- nian divines, are curious phenomena in the philosophy of theologi-^ cal parties. Arminians have forgiven Owens " limited redemption,'' on account of his '* Glory of Christ," and "Communion with God;" but they have never forgiven Baxter "s *' Personal Election," for the sake of his General Redemption," and his Saint "s Everlast- ing Rest." The violent unkindness with which Baxter's theology was treat- ed by the divines of his own age, and of his own communion, is not peculiar to his contemporaries : it is the fate of theological enter- prise in all ages. He seems to have suffered as much of odium and annoyance from his brethren on account of his doctrinal theology, as he suffered of reproach and persecution from the Episcopalian Royalists, on account of his ecclesiastical politics. Some indeed who disliked his theology, opposed it with honesty and plain speak- ing, chastened by kindness. Such were Blake, of Tamworth, in a postscript attached to his " Covenant Sealed ; " Buegess. of Sutton Coldfield, in his '* True Doctrine of Justification," and Geoege Lawsox, the able author of " Theopolitica," a work whose merit has never yet been appreciated by the theological student. Other opponents treated him viih harshness and insulting severity. Such were Kexdall m his work on Perseverance ; " Ei-re. of Salis- bury, in his " Treatise on Justification ; " Ceaxdox, of Fawley, in his Baxter's Aphorisms exorcised and authorized ; " and especially by Thomas Edwards, in his " Baxterianism Barefaced." Nor is Dr Owen to be left out of this last enumeration, as is evident from the close of his tract " On the Death of Christ," &c. attached to his " Yindiciae Evangelieae." The theological character of all his opponents is given by Baxter with one stroke of his pen. " The aniraadverters," he says, were of several minds: and what one approved, the other confuted, being farther from each other than any of them were from me." To theologians of any class, it is a great dishonour ; but to Pro- testant theologians, whose very existence is a standing protest against intellectual slavery, it is a flagrant shame, that they should cherish in themselves, and promote in each other, a disposition to decry anv spirit that appears among them claiming the right of think- ing yyixh his own mind, seeing Avith his own eyes, and speaking with bus own lips. Why should they act thus? The God of mind, like the God of nature, is the God of variety. In variety there must necessarily be a series and a collection of individualities ; for where there is no distinctive individuality, there can be no variety, but Baxter's theology. xlvii only uniformity. To every germ of life " God hath given it a body as it hath pleascfd him, and to every seed its own body ; and every flesh is not the same flesh." In like manner, to every rational being, " God giveth it a mind and mental powers as it hath pleased him ; and to every mind its own form, and its own mode of producing thought ; and all thought is not the same thought." Why, then, should theologians wish to destroy this beautiful variety in the intellectual system ? Who has given them authority to inter- fere Avith this variety ? Who are they themselves who claim this right to interfere ? Have they any divine right to differ from a man like Baxter, which a man Vik-e Baxter has not to differ from them ? Are not they themselves, as well described above, farther from each other, than any of them are from him ? It is unlovely to see thinking men trying to murder every fresh produce of thought. It is unmanly and ungenerous to at- tempt ■ to quench a man's reason by wounding his feelings. It is the meanness of dastard imbecility to try to check the progress of his doctrine by Parthian javelins at his official position or his pro- fessional reputation. Yet this is the odium theologicum. If men, in the affairs of every-day life, are to exercise forbearance towards each other because they are in the flesh ; the same forbearance is incumbent on theologians towards their brethren in intellectual struggles, since they themselves see but in a glass darkly. The men w^ho are known in ecclesiastical history as heretics, Avould probably have never proceeded to the extreme errors with Avhich their names are associated, had it not been for the intellectual tyranny, and the dogmatic despotism, of their contemporary theologians. Had a little intellectual liberty been allowed to the inquiring spirit, and had the new thinker been treated Avith gentle concern and affec- tionate warning, instead of with reserve, rudeness, and barbarity, the powerful mind would have been preserved to the church and to the interests of truth. Spontaneous thoughts and doctrines are tender and vital matters to a thinking mind. When, therefore, any luxuriant thoughts Avhich may sprout from the vigorous roots of a healthy ftiind are Avrenched off by the hand of a ruthless ortho- doxy, the heart's blood will respond to the barbarity, and as in the tree of Virgil, Quae prima solo ruptis radicibus arbos Vellitur, liuic atro Jiquuntur sanguine guttse, Et terrain tabo maculant." One is tempted to ask, AA'hich is the most unchristian and most dangerous to Christianity— the freedom of speculation which proves all things that it may hold the more fast that Avhich is good ; or the ungenerous, illiberal, and persecuting spirit with which the xlviii Baxter's theology. opponents treat the author of that speculation ? Yet, the inquirer is sugiiected, and tlie bigot is canonized. ^Mij, in the very temple of truth itself, God still spealis " in divers manners : " yea, in the very tones of truth, we are to expect harmony, but not unison. The discussion of truth and the agitation of doctrines have always resulted in good to the Church, and to the world. Even the Avaters of Bethesda, in the very house of Mercy itself, needed to be agitated and disturbed to renew their healing power. It is, therefore, un- seemly in theologians, that when some " Doctor Angelicus " descends among them, and agitates the settled waters of their dull and stag- nant orthodoxy, then always " a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, and withered," creep from the " five points " of their " five porches" to brandish their crutches against the intruder, or to mutter their anathemas against the innovation, instead of wel- coming the benignant visitor, sharing in the healthiness of the agitation, and becoming healed of whatsoever disease they had. Such an angel was Baxter, and such was the treatment of his whole- some and healing agitation of the waters of orthodoxy ; and such will always be the treatment of theological agitations until intel- lectual liberty become an acknowledged law in the republic of literature. Baxterianism was treated in the eighteenth century much as Baxter himself was treated by his contemporaries in the seventeenth. In the eighteenth century, ultra-Calvinism was rampant among the Baptist and Independent churches ; and even in Episcopal churches, where there was Calvinism at all, it was inclined to ultraism, as may be instanced in Romaine and Toplady. This retreating from Baxterianism to the extreme borders of Calvinism may be accounted for by the pernicious influence which professed Baxterianism exerted on its avowed adiierents. These professed disciples of Baxter gra- dually forsook the via media of their master, and travelled to Arminianism ; and thence, after some progress through Arianism, became at last settlers in Socinianism. From a survey of these pain- ful consequences, many sound Calvinists hated Baxterianism, and asked, " Can any good thijig come from Kidderminst^ ? " The result was, that a blind and blinding prejudice against Baxter pre- vailed every where in England, and especially in Scotland and AVales. A startling instance of the force and extent of this bigotted preju- dice is given in Mr Philip of Maberly's lively " Essay on the Genius, Works, and Times of Baxter," attached to Yii-tue's beautiful edition of " Baxter's Practical Works " in three volumes. A pri- vate gentleman, who was an elegant scholar and a good theologian, seeing the destructive influence of hyper-Calvinism upon personal piety, as well as upon theological science, resolved to try to soften iaxter'^5 theology. xlix down the asperities of controversy by introducing among the con- troversialists the matured thoughts and strong arguments of some master-mind in Israel. Agreeably to this method, he contrived to take the public by guile, and he published the opinions of "an author of the seventeenth century." " It is hardly credible," says Mr Philip, " but it is true, that so lately as the close of the last century, specimens of the best of Baxter's arguments on the great points at issue between Calvin- ists and Arminians, were brought before the public without his name, that they might be read without prejudice, and make their own impression, before the author could be discovered. This was done by Eli Bates, Esq., in a volume entitled, ' Observations on some important Points in Divinity, &c. &c., extracted from an au- thor of the seventeenth century.' Even in the second edition of this volume, in 1811, Baxter's name is not given in the title-page, nor allowed to appear even in the preface. The fact is. Bates was too proud of Baxter's theology to peril it at once upon his name. He knew his peculiarities, and could not forget the odium they once excited."—" The dexterous bait took. Not a few Calvin- ists found out that there was an old and powerful writer whom the Arminians could not claim, and would not quote, for themselves, even although he fought their battle at some of its hottest points ; and still more, Arminians discovered that Calvinism did not neces- sarily limit the call of the Gospel, nor subvert the free agency of man." During the eighteenth century, the dissenting ministry in Britain were divided into Calvinists and Baxterians. Through the disre- pute into which the Arians and others brought the name of Bax- terianism, many divines, who were Baxterians in theological senti- ments, renounced the name ; and since the commencement of the nineteenth century, they have preferred being called " Moderate Calvinists." The moderate Calvinists of the present century are in fact only the Baxterians of the preceding age. This change in the name is owing to the influence of the writings of President Edwards, of Andrew Fuller, and of Dr Williams. The " Fullerism" of the sage of Kettering, and the " Modern Calvinism" of Dr Williams, would, in the eighteenth century, have been called Baxterianism, When the disciples of Baxter are called Baxterians, it is not meant that they ever formed a distinct sect, or separate party, in the Clmstian Church. Instead of being, like the Wesleyans for in- stance, formed into a distinct body, they were, and are, more like the friends of Arminius, scattered among different societies, and found among all communities. Though the denomination " Bax- terian," as the badge of a theological party, is likely to become ex- tinct, the party itself will always exist, as long as Arminianism will have any tendency to Pelagianism, and Calvinism have any bias to- wards Antinomianism. 4 Baxter's theology. This account of .the treatment of Baxter and his Theology has probably excited the reader to wish to know what Baxterianism is. '- Baxterianism is, in theology, what eclecticism is in philosophy. It is a method o£ philosophizing, and, if the word be allowed, of theologizing, Avhich seizes upon theological truth, in whatever sys- tem that truth may be found ; and which gathers and appropriates to itself every truth, simply because it is truth. The theology of Baxter is distinguished from others by four peculiarities, — by its method of systematizing the doctrines of Revelation ; its adoption of universal Redemption in harmony with personal Election ; its theory of Justification by faith ; and its theoretical and practical assertion of the agency of man in conversion. The method which Baxter adopted for systematizing the doctrines of thecflog}' may be called Triadisra, or what he himself calls " Tri- chotomizing." The meaning is, that as all the works and dispensa- tions of God are the productions of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, some vestigia Trinitatis, some evidences of triplicity, or some marks of triadism, may be expected to discover themselves in all the phenomena of the divine operations. Those who understand what Monadism was to Plato and Leibnitz, and what Tetractysm was to the Pythagoreans, Avill be prepared to comprehend what triadism was to Baxter. It is his starting point, the principle from which he sets out, the tov o-tJ, the where-to-stand of Archimedes, or, what the German philosophers call liis stand-punkt, his stand-point. The whole of his Latin Body of Divinity called '* Methodus Theologi^," is arranged according to this method. At the close of his " Counsels to Young Men," published in 1682, he gives the following account of his method of arrangement in the " Methodus." " It consists of seventy-three tables, or methodical schemes, pre-" tending to a juster methodizing of Chi-istian verities according to the matter and Scripture, than is yet extant ; furnishing men with necessaiy distinctions on every subject ; shewing that trinity in imity is imprinted on the whole creation, and [that] trichotomizing is the just distribution in naturals and morals." This trinal me- thod was a decided fovourite, it was almost a passion Avith him. He saw triadism every where. As in the Godhead he saw Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, so he perceived that in God's relations to the Avorld, he was Creator, Ruler, and Benefactor,— in the soul of man he saw power, will, and intellect, — in the divine dispensations to- wards man, he saw nature, grace, and glory," — in salvation he saw the Father as Rector or Ruler, the Son as Redeemer, the Holy Spirit as Sanctifier^— and in the Grace of the Spirit he saw faith, hope, and charity. To those who delight to watch some great mind at some import- ant work, the practical application of this method to philosophy and Baxter's theology. theology, must be as interesting as to see a painter plying his pencil and colours, or a sculptor his hammer and chisel. ' The perspica- city necessary for detecting the trinal " primalities" as they deve- lope themselves in the phenomena of the universe, the skill to ana- lyse them and place them in proper arrangement, and the extent of knowledge requisite to combine all these triads in one complete ■jvhole and one grand unity, demand _an intellect that is quick, adroit, and comprehensive. The great drawback from the glory of the whole process is, that the effort is not so useful as it is clever and amusing. As an intellectual exercise on the plains of specu- lation, it is pleasing not only because it is playful, but because also it is a wholesome discipline in the gymnastics of mind. But, as a system of methodizing, it is so hypothetical, so conjectural, and some- times so phantastic. But it is of no use either to practical religion or to theological science. The English reader will find how Bax- ter employs this method, in his " Catholick Theologie," printed in 1675, but presented more succinctly in liis " End of Controversies," printed in 1691. Baxter's doctrine of universal Redemption in harmony with personal Election, can scarcely be called Baxterianism. Yet as far as English theolog}' is concerned, it is one of the most distinctive characteristics of Baxterianism. This doctrine was, in fact, the theology of the French Calvinists, especially of Camero, Amyral- Dus, and Dall^eus. Baxter seems to have read the works of the French divines thorouglily, and therefore, upon this subject, Eng- lish Baxterianism is notlaing but what might be called Amyraldism, or French Cameronianism. In his theory of Redemption, Baxter differed from most, if not from all of the Calvinistic theologians in England. First, He asserted that the Atonement, or Satisfaction of Christ, did not consist in his suffering the identical punishment which was due to mankind from an offended law. Tliis he expressed in the language of the schools, by saying that Christ did not suffer the idem threatened in the penalty, but the tantuncleni, or the equivalent. In plain English, the theory means, that the curses of the law were due to men for their sins, — that Christ became a sub- stitute for men, — that the law could inflict no curse upon an inno- cent Substitute,— and that the Lord did not sniffer the curses of the law, but answered " the end of the law," by suffering what would have the same effect in moral government, as if he had endured the identical punishment threatened. Secondly, he asserts that Christ rendered this tantundem, or en- dured these equivaleiit sufferings, Avith the design of furnislwng an honourable consideration, or safe ground, for proclaiming pardon lii Baxter's theology. and offering salvation to every human being. This means that Christ died for sins and not for persons. Thirdly, he asserts, that while the benefits of this substitutionary atonement are accessible and available to aU men for their salva- tion, they have, ia the divine appointment, a special reference to the subjects of personal election ; that is, Christ is an atoning Ran- som, and is "the Saviour of all men, but specially of them that beheve." This third assertion is the head and front of Baxter's offending. By admitting universal redemption, he offended the Calvinists ; and by admitting personal election, he offended the Armmians. ^ Had Baxter satisfied himself with admitting these two doctrines into his system without attempting to harmonize them, he would have acted the part of a humble believer, and of a pliilosophic theo- logian, and would besides have spared himseff much polenaic obloquy and persecution. Great faith is beUeving a great truth. He is greatest in faith who believes the greatest truths, and the greatest number of truths ; and he is complete in faith who beUeves all truth. Upon this principle, Baxter believed that he found the two truths, general redemption and personal election, in the Book of truth, and therefore he admitted them into his system of theology. And why not ? He was charged with admitting discrepancies and contradictions ; and the charge was apparently true. To this charge every believer is subject. Ninety-nine men out of a hun- dred believe what are called contradictions ; and the hundredth man is one who either doubts every thing, or examines nothing. These two principles are not contradictions because men call them so : they may, in the realities of the case, be verities in the most perfect har- mony, though our faculties are not adequate to the task of reconcil- ing them. The office of Reason, in reference to all truths presented to it, is to examine them and beheve them. It is never called upon first to reconcile them, or, if it fail in that, then to reject them. In no portion of the Scripture does God enjoin upon his servants the obligation to harmonize his truths ; for that is his work, and not theirs : it is theirs to beheve that he has harmonized them before they were revealed and announced. \ Baxter attempted to reconcile these two doctrines bj^a theory much in vogue in his time, of Common Grace and Special Grace : but that tlieory was as inconsistent and contradictory lis that of Universal Redemption and Special Salvation was supposed to be. That theory was. that if any man made a proper use of common Grace, God would then give him saving Grace. Baxter illustrates this with the metaphor of a house Avith two stories ; and says, that if man would use common Grace to come up the first flight of stairs, God would give him saving Grace to ascend the second flight, and BAXTER'S THEOLOGY. thus enter the higher department. He does not say what this com- mon grace is, why it is called common ; nor does he distinguish it from what was afterwards called natural ability, which, as an element essential to accountableness, is a matter of Justice, and not of Grace. Indeed, the whole hypothesis seems to be proposed rather to justify the damnation of the sinner than to aid him in his salvation. It must therefore be confessed that Baxter, in his efforts at reconcili- ation, did not meet the question fairly and fully. His theory is, that all the elect are sure to be saved ; and that those who are non- elect may he saved, if they believe the Gospel. The question which he had to solve was this : Will any of the non-elect believe, and be actually saved ? This question he could not meet, because the Scriptures record no instance of such a circumstance. This difficulty is produced, not by the evidence of the two truths, Universal Kedemption and Personal Election, as independent doc- trines, but by the attempt to reconcile them. The reasoning of Baxter, stripped of its scholastic form, would probably be em- bodied in the following statement : That the number of the finally saved, who will be at the right hand of Christ in the last day, is foreknown, and therefore fixed, is indisputable ; and that Christ, by the grace of God, tasted death for every man, and for the sins, not of the elect only, but also for the sins of the whole world, and that the call to accept his salvation is sincerely addressed to all men, arc equally indisputable : why then not admit both ? Theologians who believe in general Providence, believe also in special Providence. What is special Providence but the applica- tion of the principles and means of general Providence to special cases? It is thus that " all things " in general Providence " work together for good," specially them that love God." In- the same manner, a theologian may admit Universal Redemption and Special Redemption, since S])ecial Redemption is only the applica- tion of the benefits and provisions of general redemption to special cases ; it is Christ being generally the Saviour of all men, specially of them that believe. In fine, Baxter believed that a certain and fixed number of saved men was determined in the decree about Redemption, without any reference to their faith as the ground of their election. Here he was a decided Calvinist of the Dordt School. He also believed that the divine decrees contemplate no Reprobation of any, but a uni- versal redemption for all who will accept it, since Christ died for all. Here he was a decided Arminian. He admitted both doctrines to be true, and this gave to his theology the name of Baxterian. A third distinctive peculiarity of Baxter's theology was his theory of Justification by Faith. His theory was, that in justification of liv BAXTER'S THEOLOGY. a sinner, it is not the righteousness of Christ that is imputed to him, but his own actual fiiith. In explaining his theory, it is ne- cessary to state the hypothesis which he had to attack. The ma- jority of the Calvinistic divines of his day believed in, what was called the imputation of Christ's active righteousness to the "he- liever. It was presented in this manner. The law said " Do this and live." The sinner could not " do this*' perfectly; therefore he must die. Jesus Christ did this,'' or obeyed tlie law instead of the sinner, both as his substitute and as his representative, and therefore the law could not again say to the sinner " do this," since it had been done for him by his representative. In this theory the sinner is accounted as if he had obeyed the law, i. e. what Christ had done as his representative is accounted as having been done by himself, and therefore the law could not ask him twice. This opened a way direct to all the heights, moors, and bogs of Antinomianism ; for the inference was unavoidable that, if Christ rendered to the law all the active obedience which was due to it from the believer, the law could not ask him for any more obedience ; that is, Christ obeyed the law that the believer might not obey it. To hedge ofiF this tremendous precipice some divines introduced the hypothesis of a distinction between the law as a Covenant of Works and as a Rule of Life, which they borrowed from CoccEius. To counteract the above opinions, Baxter sought to establish, in harmony with many of the Fathers, and of the divines of the Refor- mation, that, in justification, the active righteousness of CTirist was not at all imputed, but only the faith of the believer in the Right- eousness of Christ. In this statement he deemed himself firmly sustained by the express language of Scripture, and by the literal exegesis of the passages in which " faith" was found in connexion with '* justification," — e. p. Gren. xv. 6 ; Rom. iv. 3, 5, 9, 23-24. All these passages, he argued, shew that the doctrine of Paul was, that it was " faith," and not the active righteousness of Christ, that was im- puted for justification. In opposition to this interpretjition, Dr Owen and others argued, -that by the word " faith" here, the Apos- tle meant the object of faith, viz. the righteousness of Christ. Baxter contended that such a gloss was against all honest exegesis of the passages, and against the logical argument of the Apostle. " If it be not faith indeed," he^ys, that the Apostle meaneth, the context is so far from relieving our understandings, that it contri- buteth to our unavoidable deceit and ignorance. Read over the texts, and put but ' Christ's righteousness' every where instead of the ' faith,' and see what a scandalous paraphrase you will make." This was honest and manly dealing, and warranted by the context. As an example of this absurdity, read Rom. iv. 9, as Baxter sug- gests—" We say that the object of his faith, the righteousness of Baxter's theology. It Christ, was counted to him for righteousness." This " object of his faith could not be his^ until it was imputed to him ; but it is evi- dent that he exercised his faith before the imputation. Besides, as if the Apostle wished to speak more explicitly, he says, in verse 22, that by " faith," he did not mean the " object of faith," but the act of " believing" in him, " Avho raised our Lord Jesus irom the dead." Faith is believing. Justifying faith is believing a justifying truth. God informed Abraham that all the nations of the earth should be blessed, i. e. pardoned and saved on account of his seed, the Messiah. Abraham witnessed this saving and justifying truth, and his believing it in the saving character of his Seed, was count- ed to him for righteousness, or a justifying faith. It was a pro- per, a just, and a right thing that Abraham should believe God's testimony concerning the INIessiah, and therefore it was im- puted to him as a right thing, or as a righteousness. The Owen- ian divines objected that in this shewing, faith was an act, and therefore a work, which would imply justiiication. by works. And that such an act or work implied merit, and therefore did not, like the gospel justification, exclude boasting. It would be now too te- dious to enter fully upon these objections. Let it suffice just to state that the objection is a play upon the word " work "—that be- lieving in a substitute is no " work of law"— that faith is only an act of compliance with the gospel method of justification, and that no human being is ever conscious that there is any merit whatever in believing a true statement. The fourth, and which was regarded by some as the most offensive peculiarity of Baxter's theology, was his doctrine that every sinner has a distinct agency of his own to exert in the process of his con- version. Among his works there is no separate treatise on human ability or free agency ; but in all his Avorks ,he either asserts or as- sumes that every man has power to do his duty. The most length- ened investigation of the difficulties of this question is found in his " Catholic' Theologie," in the Dialogues on original sin, free will, and effectual grace. In " the Sixth day's Conference on natural corruption and impotency," he puts to his antagonist the following questions, which are all answered by being conceded. 1. Have not wicked men natural life ? or are they dead ? 2. Have they not natural powers or faculties for natural acts? 3. Is it not the same natural faculty of intellection by which we understand and believe things common and (things) spiritual ? And the same natural faculty of willing, by which we love or will them both? 4. (This is about common grace). 5. Is there any nation or people in the world that are not obliged Ivi BAXTER'S THEOLOGY. by God to use some means towards their own conversion, and to forbear their sin ? 6. Is there not snch a thing in the world as a tnie poii-er to do something that never is done, and forbear what is not forborne ? This puzzles the antagonist, bnt Baxter proceeds to demonstrate it : and then on " tlie Eleventh day's Conference " he rallies him and asks—" Would you not have your wife, children, and servants taught that it is their duty to love, honour, and obey you ? and your neighbours to deal justly with you? and the rulers to protect you, and the judges to do you justice?" The antagonist replies—" I speak only of religious, and not civil duties." AxswER. " You are indifferent, it seemeth, as to the interests of God's honour and man's sah-ation. Let those alone, so be it your oicn interest be secured. Duty to you must be preached, but not to God. But would you not have them taught to do you service as to the Lord, and as such as from him shall have punishment and reward ? Should not all be done to the glory of God ? " All intellectual philosophers avow the doctrine that man has power to command his own attention ; and no theologian can dis- pute it. This power to command his ovm attention, or " power over his own will," in man, is called, in doctrinal theology, " the self-determining power of the Avill." Baxter assumed this in all his writings, and in all his sermons, and especially in the two works embodied in this little volume. The " Call to the Unconverted" takes for granted, in every page, that man " hath power over his own will." Indeed, no work has ever been written on conversion, and no work can be written on the subject, which does not imply that man acts volun- tarily, whether in accepting or in rejecting the calls of the Gospel. The leading doctrines in the " Call to the Unconverted" are the following :— That the wicked must either turn and be con- verted, or perish,— that the wicked, whoever they are, shall be saved if they will only turn, — that God is pleased in their conver- sion, but displeased in their damnation,— that God is sincere in this pleasure, and has confirmed it by oath, — that God importunes men to be converted, — that he reasons with the wicked, and asks them to accoimt for their non-conversion, — and that the blame of their being unconverted is not to be attached to any secret decree in God, but entirely to their own obstinacy. It is true that his views of free-ageney were not very clear or dis- tinct ; but the only thing that clouded them was the misty theory of common grace and saving grace. This is evident from the man- ner in which he meets the foUowing objections to the wicked being called to turn :— Baxter's theology. Ivii " OBJECT.—But we cannot convert ourselves till God convert u&; we can do nothing -s^-ithout his grace. It is not in him that Avilleth, nor in him that runneth, but in God that sheweth merc^." " Ans. 1.— God hath two degrees of mercy to shew ; the mercy of conversion first, and the mercy of salvation last. The latter he will give to none but those that icill and andh«th promised to them only. The former is to make them willing that were unwilling'; and though your own willingness and endpavours deserve not his grace, yet your -vWlful refusal deserveth that it should be denied you. Your disability is your very unmllingncss itself, which excuseth not your sin, but maketh it the greater. You could turn, if you were but truly willing ; and if your wills themselves were so corrupted that nothing but efiectual grace wUl move them, you have the more cause to seek that grace, ajid yield to it, and do what you can in the use of means, and not neglect it, or set against it. Do what you are able first, and then complain of God for denying you grace, if you have cause." " OBJECT.—But you seem to intimate all the while that man hath free-will." " ANS.--The dispute about free-will is beyond your capacity. I shall therefore trouble you with no more but this about it. Your will is naturally a free, that is, a self-determining faculty ; but it is viciously inclined, and backward to do good ; but that is the wicked- ness of it which deserveth punishment." A^liatever may be our sentiments concerning Baxter's theory of human agency in conversion, it is evident that Dr Owen could not, on his principles, write a " Call to the Unconverted." This theory gave a character to Baxter's mind and to Baxter's preaching. It is probable thai it was the very characteristic that arrested the attention of Archbishop Usher, who suggested to him his adapta- tion to write works of this description. In the preface he gives a detailed account of Usher's conversation with liim on the import- ance of producing such a work. The work was not commenced tUl after the death of the venerated Archbishop, and Avas published on December 11, 1657. It is introduced by a very serious address " to all unsanctified persons who shall read this book, especially my hearers in the parish of Kidderminster." Of its remarkable and extensive usefulness, he gives the following accoimt •-- " God hath blessed it with unexpected success beyond all the rest that I have written, except the ' Saint's Rest.' In a Uttle more than a year, there were about twenty thousand of them printed by my own consent, and about ten thousand since, besides many thousands by stolen impressions, Avhich poor men stole for lucre's sake. Through God's mercy, I have had information of almost whole households converted by this small book, which I set so light Iviii BAXTERS ■mEOLOGT. by : and, as if all this in England, Scotland, and Ireland, were not mercy enough to me, God since I was silenced, hath sent it over on his message to many beyond the seas. For when Mr Elliot had printed all the Bible in the Indian's language, he next trans- lated this my ' Call to the Unconverted.' * * * Mr Stoop, the pastor of the French church in London, being driven hence by the displeasure of his superiors, was.pleased to translate it into elegant French, and print it in a very curious letter : and I hope it will not be unprofitable there, nor in Germany, where it is printed in Dutch." ^ince the death of Baxter it has been translated into almost all the European languages, and has gone through very numerous and very large editions, berth in England and in America. The instances of its usefulness, known and unknown, are a number which no man can number. The other work contained in this volume is written on the same theological principles as the Call to the Unconverted," and is in- tituled, '* Making light of Christ."' This latter work is the sub- stance of a sermon preached at St Lawrence, Jewry, where the Rev. Mr Vines was pastor. The brief history of this sermon supphes an index to tht great popularity of Baxter as a preacher. When he had to preach this sermon at St Lawrence, Jewry, he sent word to ^klr ^"ines to secure seats or pe»vs for Lord Brog- hill and the Earl of Suffolk, " -with whom he Avas to go in the coach. " Yet," he says, " when I came, the crowd had so little respect to persons, that they (the said Lords) were fain to go home again, because they could not come within hearing. The old Earl of Warwick, who stood in the lobby, brought me home again. And ^Ir Vines himself was fain to get up into the pulpit, and sit behind me, and I stood between his legs : which I mention, that the reader may tmderstand that verse in my poem concerning him, which is printed, where I say, that ' at once one pulpit held us both.'" The full title of the sermon is, " The Causes and Danger of slighting Christ and his Gospel : or. Eternal Salvation made Light by midtitudes to whom it is freely offered." It was first preached at Kidderminster, and afterwards in London. The whole discourse aboimds with- solemn and stirring passages. To his readers he says in the preface — " Should you but seriously read, and well consider as you read, tiU your heart be sensible what a sin it is to make light of Christ and his salvation, and till the Lord that bought you be advanced in the esteem and affections of your soul, — this will fulhl my desires." In these desires the writer of this Essay, and the Editor and Publisher of these Volumes of " The Puritan Divines," sincerely and devoutly join. MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION, TOO OFT THE ISSUE OF GOSPEL INVITATIONS. " How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation T'—Heb. ii. 34. TO THE READER. Reader, Being called on in London to preach, when I had no time to study, I -was fain to preach some sermons that I had preached in the country a little before. This was one, which I preached at St Laurence, in the church where my reverend and faithful brother in Christ, IVIr Richard Vines, is pastor : when 1 came home I was followed by such im- portunities by letters to print the sermon, that I have yield- ed thereunto ^hough I know not fully the ground of their de- sires. Seein^rc must abroad, will the Lord but bless it to the cure of thy contempt of Christ and grace, how comfortable may the occasion prove to thee and me ! It is the sHghting of Christ and salvation, that undoes the world. O happy man if thou escape but this sin ! Thousands do spKt their souls on this rock which they should build them on. Look into the world, among rich and poor, high and low, young and old, and see whether it appear not by the whole scope of their conversations that they set more by something else than Christ ? And for all the proclamations of his gi'ace in the gospel, and our common professing ourselves to be his disciples, and to beHeve the glorious things that he hath promised us in another world, whether it yet appear not by the deceitfulness of our serrice, by our heartless endeavours to obtain his kingdom, avid by our busy and dehghtful fol- lowing of the world, tha«fc the most who are called Christians do yet in their hearts make hght of Christ ; and if so, what wonder if they perish by their contempt ? Wilt thou but soberly peruse this short discom^se, and consider well as thou readest of its truth and weightj tfll thy heart be sen- 4 TO THE READER. able what a sin it is to make light of Christ and thy own salvation, and till the Lord that bought thee be advanced in the estimation and affections of thy soul, thou shalt here- by rejoice, and fulfil the desires of Thy servant in the faith. KICHARD BAXTER MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALTATION, TOO OFT THE ISSUE OF GOSPEL INVITATIONS. " But they made light of it."— Matt. xxii. 5. The blessed Son of God, that thought it not enough to die for the world, but would himself also be the preacher of grace and salvation, doth comprise in this parable the sum of his gospel. By the king that is here said to make the marriage, is meant God the Father, that sent his Son into the world to cleanse them from their sins, and espouse them to himself. By his Son, for whom the marriage is made, is meant the Lord Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God, who took to his Godhead the nature of man, that he might be capable of being their Redeemer when they had lost themselves in sin. By the marriage is meant the conjunction of Christ to the soul of sinners, when he giveth up himself to them to be their Sa\'iour, and they give up themselves to him as his redeemed ones, to be saved and ruled by him ; the perfec- tion of which maniage will be at the day of judgment, when the conjunction between the whole church and Christ shall be solemnized. The word here translated marria(je^ rather signifieth the mamage-feast ; and the meanmg is, that the world is incited by the gospel to come in and partake of Chiist and salvation, which comprehendeth both pardon, justification, and right to salvation, and all other pii\ileges 6 aiAKES^G LIGHT OF CKRIST AND SALVATION. of the members of Christ. The invitation is God's offer of Christ and salvation in the gospel ; the servants that invito them are the preachers of the gospel, who are sent forth by God to that end ; the preparation for the feast there men- tioned, is the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, and the enactmg of a law of grace, and opening a way for revolting sinners to re- tm-n to God. There is a mention of sending second mes- sengers, because God useth not to take the first denial, but to exercise his patience till sinners are obstinate. The first persons invited are the Jews ; upon their obstinate refusal they are sentenced to punishment : and the gentUes are in- \ited, and not only iiiA-ited, but by powerful preaching, and miracles, and effectual grace, compelled ; that is, infaUibly prevailed vdih to come in. The number of them is so gi'eat that the house is fiUed with guests : many come sincerely, not only looking at the pleasm-e of the feast, that is, at the pardon of sin, and deliverance from the wrath of God, but also at the lionoiu* of the marriage, that is, of the Redeemer, and then* profession by giving up themselves to a holy con- versation : but some come in only for the feast, that is, jus- tification by Christ, having not the wedding-garment of sound resolution for obedience in their life, and looking only at themselves in beHe^ing, and not to the glory of their Redeemer ; and these are sentenced to everlasting misery, and speed as ill as those that came not in at all ; seemg a faith that will not work is but like that of the devil ; and they that look to be pardoned and saved by it are mistaken, as James sheweth, chap. ii. 2-i. The words of my text contain a nan-ation of the ill enter- tainment that the gospel findeth with many to whom it is sent, even aff:er a fii-st and second iuA-itation. They made light of it, and are taken up Avith other thmgs. Though it be the Jews that were first guilty, they have too many fol- lowers among us gentiles to this day. The DoCTiUNK of the Passage. — For all the Avonderful love and mercy that God hath manifested in girijig his Son to be the Redeemer of the Avorld, and which the Son hath maniiested in redeeming them by liis blood ; for all his full .AIAKLN-G LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 7 prepanition by being a sufficient sacrifice for the sins of all ; for all his personal excellencies, and that full and glorious salvation that he hath procui-ed ; and for all his free offers of these, and frequent and earnest in^'itation of sinners ; yet many do make light of all this, and prefer their worldly enjo}Tnents before it. The ordinary treatment of all these offers, im-itations, and bi-.nefits, is by coritempt. Xot that all do :"0, or that aU continue to do so, who were once guilty of it ; for God hath his chosen whom he vnR compel to come in. But till the Spirit of grace over- power the dead and obstinate hearts of men, they hear the gospel as a common stoiy, and the great matters contained in it go not to the heart. The method m which I shall handle this doctrine is this. I. I shall shew you what it is that men make light of. II. "\Miat this sin of making light of it is. in. The cause of the sin, rV. The use of the doctrine. I. The thing that carnal hearers make light of is, 1. The doctiine of the gospel itself, which they hear re- gardlessly. 2. The benefits offered them therein : which are, 1. Christ himself. 2. The benefits which he giveth. Concerning Christ hmiself, the gospel, 1. Declareth his person and nature, and the great things that he hath done and suffered for man ; his redeeming him from the wath of God by his blood, and procurmg a grant of salvation with himself. Furthermore, the same gospel makcth an offer of Christ to smuers, that if they ^vill accept hmi on his easy and reasonable terms, he will be then- SaA-iour, the Physician of theii' souls, theii* Husband, and then- Head. 2. The benefits that he offereth them ai-e these. 1. That with these blessed relations to him, himself and mterest in him, they shall have the pardon of all their sins past, and be saved fi'om God's wrath, and be set m a sm-e way of obtauiing a pardon for all the sins that they shall commit hereafter, so they do but obey sincerely, and turn not again to the rebellion of thefr unregeneracy. 2. They shall have the Spii'it to become then* Guide and Sanctifier, and to dwell 8 MAKIKG LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. in their souls, and help them against their enemies, and con- form them more and more to his image, and heal their dis- eases, and bring them back to God. 3. They shaU have right to everlasting glory when this life is ended, and shall be raised up thereto at the last ; besides many excellent pri\-ileges in the "way, in means, preservation, and pro\'ision, and the foretaste of what they shall enjoy hereafter : j\ll these benefits the gospel ofiereth to them that -will have Christ on his reasonable terms. The sum of all is in 1 John v. 11, 12, " This is the record, that God hath given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son : he that hath the Son hath life, and he that hath not the Son hath not life." n. "\Miat this sin of the making Hght of the gospel is. 1. To make light of the gospel is to take no great heed to what is spoken, as if it were not a certain truth, or else were a matter that little concerned them ; or as if God had not written these things for them. 2. When the gospel doth not affect men, or go to their hearts ; but though they seem to attend to what is said, yet men are not awakened by it from their security, nor doth it work in any measure such holy passion in their souLs, as matters of such everlast- ing consequence should do : this is making light of the gospel of salvation. When we tell men what Chi-ist hath done and suffered for their souls, and it scarce moveth them : we tell them of keen and cutting truths, but nothing will pierce them : we can make them hear, but we cannot make them feel ; our words take up in the porch of their ears and fancies, but wiU not enter into the inward parts ; as if we spake to men that had no hearts or feeling : this is a making light of Christ and salvation. Acts xx^-iii. 26, 27, " Hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand ; seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive. For the heart of this people is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of heanng, and their eyes have they closed," &c. 3. When men have no high estimation of Christ and salvation, but whatsoever they may say with their tongues, or di-eamingly and speculatively believe, yet in their serious and practical thoughts they have a higher estimation of the MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 9 matters of this world, than they have of Christ, and the salvation that he hath purchased ; this is a making light of him. When men account the doctrine of Christ to be but a matter of words and names, as Gallio (Acts xviii. 4), or as Festus (Acts xxv. 19), a superstitious matter about one Jesus who was dead, and Paul saith is alive ; or ask the preachers of the gospel, as the Athenians, " "What Avill this X babbler, say ? " Acts xvii. 1 8 : this is contempt of Christ. 4. When men are informed of the truths of the gospel, and on what terms Christ and his benefits may be had, and how it is the will of God that they should believe and ac- cept the offer ; and that he commandeth to do it upon pain of damnation ; and yet men will not consent, unless they could have Christ on terms of their own : they "svill not part with their worldly contents, nor lay doAvn their pleasures, and profits, and honour at his feet, as being content to take so much of them only as he will give them back, and as is consistent with his will and interest, but think it is a hard saying, that they must forsake all in resolution for Chiist : this is a making light of him and their salvation. When men might have part in him and all his benefits if they would, and they will not, unless they may keep the world too ; and are resolved to please their flesh, whatever comes of it ; this is a high contempt of Christ and everlasting life. In Matt, x'iii. 21 ; Luke xviii. 23, you may find examples * of such as I here describe. 5. When men will promise fair, and profess their willing- ness to have Christ on his terms, and to forsake all for him, but yet do stick to the world and their sinful courses ; and when it comes to practice, Avill not be removed by all that Christ hath done and said ; this is making light of Christ and salvation, Jer. xlii. 5, compared with xliii. 2. III. The causes of this sin are the next thing to be in- quired after. It may seem a wonder that ever men, that have the use of their reason, should be so sottish as to make light of matters of such consequence. But the cause is, 1. Some men understand not the very sense of the words of the gospel when they hear them ; and how can they 10 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD SALVATION. be taken with that which they understand not ? Though we speak to them in plain EngUsh, and study to speak it as plain as we can, yet people have so estranged themselves from God, and the matters of their own happiness, that they know not what we say, as if we spoke in -another language, and as if they were under that judgment, Isa. xxviii. 11, " With stammering lips, and with another tongue, will he speak to this people." 2. Some that do understand the words that we speak, yet because they are carnal, understand not the matter. " For the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, neither can he know them, because they are spui- tually discerned," 1 Cor. ii. 14:. They an*, eaithJy, and these things are heavenly, John iii. 12. These things of the Spu'it are not well kno^vn by bare hearsay, but by spu-i- tual taste, which none have but those that are taught by the Holy Ghost (1 Cor. ii. 12), that we may know the things that are given us of God. 3. A carnal man apprehendeth not a suitableness in these spii'itual and heavenly things to his mind, and therefore he se+5 l^g^it b / them, auu hmn no uuiid of them. When von tell him ui* eveilustllig j;ior) , lic ueaieKii jkj jl tas u «»ei« persuading him to go play vntii the sun : tiiey are matters of another Avorld, and out of liis element ; and therefore he hath no more delight in them than a fish would have to be in the fau-est meadow, or than a s"v\4ne hath in a jewel, or a dog in a piece of gold : they may be good to others, but he cannot apprehend them as suitable to him, because he hath a nature that is otherwise inclined : he savoureth not the things of the Spnit, Rom. ^^ii. 5 4. The main cause of the slighting of Christ and salva- tion is, a secret root of unbehef in men's hearts. Whatso- ever they may pretend, they do not soundly and thoroughly believe the word of God : they are taught in general to say the gospel is true ; but they never saw the e-vidence of its truth so far, as thoroughly to persuade them of it ; nor have they got their souls settled on the infaUibUity of God's tes- timony, nor considered of the truth of the particular doc- MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 1 1 trines revealed in the Scripture, so far as soundly to believe them. Oh did you all but soundly believe the words of this gospel, of the evil of sin, of the need of Christ, and what he hath done for you, and what you must be and do if ever you will be saved by him ; and what will become of you for ever if you do it not ; I dare say it would cure the con- tempt of Christ, and you would not make so Hglit of the matters of your salvation. But men do not believe while they say they do, and would face us down that they do, and verily think that they do themselves. There is a root of bitterness, and an evil heart of unbelief, that make them depart from the living God, Heb. ii. 12 ; iv. 1, 2, 6. Tell any man in this congregation that he shall have a gift of ten thousand pounds, if he will but go to London for it ; if he believe you, he will go ; but if he believe not, he will not ; and if he will not go, you may fee sure he beheveth not, supposing that he is able. I know a slight beUef may stand with a wicked life ; such as men have of the truth of a prognostication, it may be true, and it may be false ; but a true and sound belief is not consistent with so gi*eat ne- glect of the things that are beheved. 6. Christ and salvation are made light of by the world, because of their desperate hardness of heart. The heart is hard naturally, and by custom in sinning made more hard, especially by long abuse of mercy, and neglect of the means of grace, and resisting the Spirit of God. Hence it is that men are turned into such stones : and till God cure them of the stone of the heart, no wonder if they feel not what they know, or regard not what we say, but make light of all : it is hard preaching a stone into tears, or making a rock to tremble. You may stand over a dead body long enough, and say to it, O thou carcass, when thou hast lain rotting and mouldered to dust till the resun-ection, God Avill then call thee to account for thy sin, and cast thee mto everlast- ing fii-e, before you can make it feel what we say, or fear the misery that is never so truly threatened : Avhen men's hearts are like the highway that is trodden to hardness by long custom in sinning, or like the clay that is hardened to 12 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. a stone by the heat of those mercies that should have melted them into repentance ; when they have consciences seared with a hot iron, as the apostle speaks (1 Tim. iv. 2), no wonder then if they be past feeling, and working all miclean- ness with greediness do make light of Christ and everlasting glory. Oh that this were not the case of too many of our hearers ! Had we but living souls to speak to, they would hear, and feel, and not make hght of what we say. I know they are naturally alive, but they are spiritually dead, as Scripture witnesseth, Eph. ii. 3. Oh if there were but one spark of the life of gi'ace in them, the doctrine ot salvation by Jesus Christ would appear to them to be the weightiest business in the world ! Oh how confident should I be, methinks, to prevail with men, and to take them off this world, and bring them to mind the*matters of another world, if I spake but to men that had life, and sense, and reason ! But when we speak to blocks and dead men, how should we be regarded ? Oh how sad a case are these souls in, that are fallen under this fearful judgment of spiritual madness and deadness ! to have a blind mind, and a hard heart, to be sottish and senseless (Mark iv. 12 ; John xii. 40), lest they should be converted, and their sin should be forgiven them. 6. Christ and salvation are made hght of by the world, because they are wholly enslaved to their sense, and taken up with lower things : the matters of another world are out of sight, and so far fi'om their senses, that they cannot re- gard them ; but present things afe nearer them, in their eyes, and in their hands. There must be a li\ing faith to prevail over sense, before men can be so taken with things that are not seen, though they have the word of God for their security, as to neglect and let go things that are still before their eyes. Sense works with great advantage, and therefore doth much in resisting faith where it is ; no won- der then if it carry all before it, where there is no true and lively faith to resist, and to lead the soul to liigher things. This cause of making hght of Christ and salvation is expressed here in my text : one went to his farm, and MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION 13 another to his merchandise : men have houses and lands to look after ; they have wife and children to mind ; they have their body and outward estate to regard ; therefore they forget that they have a God, a Redeemer, a soul to mind : these matters of the world are still with them. They see these, but they see not God, nor Christ, nor their souls, nor everlasting glory. These things are near at hand, and therefore work naturally, and so work forcibly; but the others are thought on as a great way off, and therefore too distant to work on their affections, or be at the present so much regarded by them. Their body hath life and sense, therefore if they want meat, or drink, or clothes, will feel their want, and tell them of it, and give them no rest till their wants be supplied, and therefore they cannot make light of theii- bodily necessities ; but their souls in spiritual respects are dead, and therefore feel not their wants, but will let them alone in their greatest necessities ; and be as quiet when they are starved and languishing to destruction, as if all were well, and nothing ailed them. And here- upon poor people are wholly taken up in providing for the body, as if they had nothing else to mind. They have their trades and callings to follow, and so much to do from morn- ing to night, that they can find no time for matters of salva- tion : Christ would teach them, but they have no leisure to hoar him : the Bible is before them, but they cannot have time to read it ; a minister is in the town with them, but they cannot have time to go to enquire of him what they should do to be saved : and when they do hear, their hearts are so full of the world, and carried away with these lower matters, that they cannot mind the things which they hear. They are so full of the thoughts, and desires, and cares of this world, that there is no room to pour into them the water of life. The cares of the world do choke the word, and make it become unfruitful, Matt. xiii. 32. Men cannot serve two masters, God and mammon ; but they will lean to the one, and despise the other, Matt. vi. 24. He that loveth the world, the love of the Father is not in him, 1 John ii. 15, 16. Men cannot choose but set light by Christ 14 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD SALVATION. and salvation, while they set so much by any thing on earth. It is that which is highly esteemed among men that is abominable in the sight of God, Luke x\d. 15. Oh, this is the ruin of many thousand souls ! It would grieve the heart of any honest Christian to see how eagerly this vain world is followed every where, and how little men set by Chi'ist and the world to come ; to compare the care that men have for the world, ydih the care of their souls ; and the time that they lay out on the world, -vvith that time they lay out for their salvation : to see how the world fills their mouths, their hands, their houses, their hearts, and Christ hath little more than a bare title : to come into their com- pany, and hear no discourse but of the world ; to come in- to their houses, and hear and see nothing but for the world, as if this world would last for ever, or would purchase them another. When I ask sometimes the ministers of the gospel how their labours succeed, they tell me. People continue still the same, and give up themselves wholly to the world ; so that they mind not what ministers say to them, nor will give any full entertainment to the word, and all because of the deluding world : and O that too many ministers them- selves did not make light of that Christ whom they preach, being drawn away vnth. the love of this world ! In a word, men of a worldly disposition do judge of things according to worldly advantages, therefore Christ is sUghted ; " He is despised and rejected of men, they hide their faces from him, and esteem him not, as seeing no beauty or comeliness in him, that they should desire him," Isa. liii. 3. 7. Christ and salvation are made light of, because men do not soberly consider of the truth and weight of these ne- cessary things. They suffer not their minds so long to dwell upon them, till they procure a due esteem, and deeply affect their heart ; did they beheve them and not consider of them, how should they work ! Oh when men have rea- son given them to think and consider of the tilings that most concern them, and yet they xaH not use it, this causeth their contempt. 8. Christ and salvation are made light of, because men MAKIXG LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 1 5 were never sensible of tlieir sin and misery, and extreme necessity of Christ and liis salvation ; their eyes were never opened to see themselves as they are ; nor their hearts soundly humbled in the sense of then- condition : if this were done, they would soon be brought to value a Saviour : a truly broken heart can no more make light of Christ and salvation, than a hungry man of his food, or a sick man of the means that would give him ease ; but till then our words cannot have access to their hearts : while sin and misery arc made light of, Christ and salvation will be made light of ; but Avhen these are perceived an intolerable burden, then nothing will serve the turn but Christ. Till men be truly humbled, they can venture Christ and salvation for a lust, for a little worldly gain, even for less than nothing : but when God hath illuminated them, and broken their hearts, then they would give a world for a Christ ; then they must have Chiist or they die ; all things then are loss and dung to them in regard of the excellent knowledge of Christ, Phil. iii. 8. When they are once pricked in their hearts for sin and misery, then they cry out, " Men and brethren, what shall we do?" Acts ii. 37. A^Tien they are awakened by God's judgments, as the poor jailer, then they cry out, " Sirs, what shall I do to be saved?" Acts xvi. 30. This is the reason why God will bring men so low by humilia- tion, before he brings them to salvation. 9. Men take occasion to make light of Christ by tlie commonness of the gospel ; because they do hear of it every day, the fi'cquency is an occasion to dull their affections ; I say, an occasion, for it is no just cause. Were it a rarity it might take more with them ; but now, if they hear a mi- nister preach nothing but these sa^•ing truths, they say, We have these every day : they maka not light of their bread or di-ink, their health or life, because they possess them every day ; they make not light of the sun because it shineth every day ; at least they should not, for the mercy is the greater ; but Christ and salvation are made light of because they hear of them often ; this is, say they, a good, plain, dry sermon. Pearls are trod into the dii-t Vhere they are 16 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. common : ttey loathe this dry manna : " The full soul loathes the honey-comb ; but to the hungry every bitter thing is sweet," Prov. xxvii. 7. 10. Christ and salvation are made light of, because of this disjunctive presumption ; either that he is sure enough theirs already, and God that is so merciful, and Christ that hath suflfered so much for them, is surely resolved to save them, or else it may easily be obtained at any time, if it be not yet so. A conceited faciHty to have a part in Christ and salvation at any time doth occasion men to make light of them. It is true, that grace is free, and the offer is uni- versal, according to the extent of the preaching of the gospel ; and it is true, that men may have Christ when they will ; that is, when they are willing to have him on his terms ; but he that hath promised thee Christ if thou be willing, hath not promised to make thee willing : and if thou art not willing now, how canst thou think thou shalt be A\illing hereafter ? If thou canst make thine own heart will- ing, why is it not done now ? Can you do it better when sin hath more hardened it, and God may have given thee over to thyself? O sinners ! you might do much, though you are not able of yourselves to come in, if you would now subject yourselves to the working of the Spirit, and set in while the gales of grace continue. But did you know Avhat a hard and impossible thing it is to be so much as willing to have Christ and grace, when the heart is given over to itself, and the Spirit hath withdrawn its former iuA-itations, you would not be so confident of your own strength to be- lieve and repent ; nor would you make light of Christ upon such foolish confidence. If indeed it be so easy a matter as you imagine, for a sinner to beheve and repent at any time, how comes it to pass that it is done by so few ; but most of the world do perish in then- impenitency when they have all the helps and means that we can afford them? It is true, the thing is very reasonable and easy in itself to a pure nature ; but while man is blind and dead, these things are in a sort impossible to him, which are never so easy to others. It is Ae easiest and sweetest life in the world to a MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 1 7 gracious soul to live in the love of God, and tlie delightful thoughts of the life to come, where all their hope and hap- piness Heth : but to a worldly, carnal heart, it is as easy to remove a mountain as to brmg them to this. HowcA^er, these men are their own condemnors ; for if they think it so easy a matter to repent and believe, and so to have Christ, and right to salvation, then have they no excuse for neglect- ing this which they thought so easy. O wretched, impeni- tent soul ! what mean you to say when God shall ask you, Why did you not repent and love your Redeemer above the world, when you thought it so easy that you could do it at any time ? IV. Use 1 . AVe come noAv to the application : and hence you may be informed of the blindness and folly of all camal men. How contemptible are theu" judgments that think Christ and salvation contemptible ! And how little reason there is why any should be moved by them, or discouraged by any of their scorns or contradictions ! How shall we sooner know a man to be a fool, than if he know no difference between dung and gold? Is there such a thing as madness in the world, if that man be not mad that sets light by Christ, and his o^vn salvation, while lie daily toils for the dung of the earth ? And yet what pity is it to see that a company of poor, ignorant souls will be ashamed of godliness, if such men as these do but deride them ! or will think hardly of a holy life, if such as these do speak against it ! Hearers, if you sec any set light by Christ and salvation, do you set light by that man's wit, and by his words, and hear the reproaches of a holy life as you would hear the words of a madman, not with regard, but with a compassion of his miser}-. Use 2. What wonder if we and our preaching be de- spised, and the best ministers complain of ill success, when the ministry of the apostles themselves did succeed no, bet- ter? AATiat wonder if, for all that we can say or do, our hearers still set light by Chiist and their OAvn salvation, when the apostles' hearers did the same? They that did feecond their doctrine by miracles, if any men could ha,ve B 18 MAEXNG LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. shaken and torn in pieces the hearts of sinners, they could hare done it ; if any could have laid them at their feet, and made them all cr^- out as some, " What shall we do ? " it ■would have been they. Tou may see then that it is not merely for want of good preachers that men make light of Christ and salvation. The first news of such a thing as the pai'don of sin, and the hopes of glor\-, and the danger of everlasting misery, would turn the hearts of men within them, if they were as tractable in spiritual matters as m temporal : but, alas, it is far otherwise. It must not seem any strange thing, nor must it too much discourage the preachers of the gospel, if, when they have said all that they can devise to say, to win the hearts of men to Chi-ist, the most do still shght him ; and while they bow the knee to him, and honom' him with then* hps, do yet set so light by him in their hearts, as to prefer every fleshly pleasing or commodity before him. It will be thus with many : let us be glad that it is not thus with all. Use 3. But for closer apphcation, seeing this is the great condemning sin, before we inquire after it into the hearts of om- hearers, it beseems us to begin at home, and see that we, who are preachers of the gospel, be not guilty of it our- selves. The Lord forbid that they that have imdertaken the sacred office of revealing the exceUenciesof Chiist to the world, should make Hght of him themselves, and shght that salvation which they do daily preach. The Lord knows we are all of us so low in om* estimation of Christ, and do this great work so neghgently, that we have cause to be ashameil of our best sermons ; but should this sin prevail in us, we were the most miserable of aU men. Brethren, I love not censoriousness ; yet dare not beli*iend so Aole a sin m myself or others, under pretence of avoiding it : especially when there is so gi'eat necessity that it should be healed first in them that make it their work to heal it in othere. Oh tliat there were no cause to complain that Christ and salvation are made hght of by the preachers of it ! But, 1 . Do not the negligent studies of some speak it out? 2. Doth not their dead and drowsy preaching declare it ? Do not they make MAKING LIGHT OF- CHRIST AND SALVATION. 19 light of the doctrine they preach, that do it as if they were half asleep, and feel not Avhat they speak themselves *? 3. Doth not the carelessness of some men's pnvate en- dcavom-s discover it? AVhat do they for souls? How slightly do they reprove sin ! How Httle do they when they are out of the pulpit for the sa\'ing of men's souls ! 4. Doth not the continued neglect of those things wherein the interest of Christ consisteth discover it? 1. The church's purity and reformation. 2. Its imity. 5. Do not the covetous and worldly Hves of too many discover it, losing advantages for men's soids for a little gain to themselves ? And most of this is because men are preacli- ers before they are Christians, and tell men of that which they never felt themselves. Of all men on earth there are few that are in so sad a condition as such ministers : and if, indeed, they do bcheve that Scripture which they jDreach, methmks it should be temble to them m then- studying and preachmg it. • Use 4. Beloved hearers, the office that God hath called us to, is by declaring the glorj' of his grace, to help under Christ to the saving of men's souls. I hope you think not that I come hither to-day on any other errand. The Lord loiows I had not set a foot out of doors but in hope to suc- ceed in this work for your souls. I have considered, and often considered, what is the matter that so many thousands should perish when God hath done so much for then' salva- tion ; and I find this that is mentioned m my text is the cause. It is one of the wonders of the world, that when God hath so loved the world as to send his Son, and Christ hath made a satisfaction by his death suflicient for them all, and offereth the benefits of it so freely to them, even with- out money or price, that yet the most of the world should perish ; yea, the most of those that are thus called by his word ! ^Vhy, here is the reason, when Christ hath done all this, men make fight of it. God hath shcAved that he is not unwilling ; and Christ hath shewed that he is not un- willing that men should be restored to God's favour and be saved ; but men are actually imwilhng themselves. God 20 1SL\KING LIGHT OF CHRIST -\ND S-\LVATION. takes not pleasure in the death of sinners, but rather that they retui'n and live, Ezek. xxxiii. 1 1 . But men take such pleasure in sin, that they will die before they -will return. The Lord Jesus -was content to be their Physician, and hath provided them a sufficient plaster of his own blood : but if men make light of it, and will not apply it, what wonder if they perish after all? This Scripture giveth us the reason of their perdition. This, sad experience tells us, the most of the world is guilty of It is a most lamentable thing to see how most men do spend their care, their time, their pains, for knowTi vanities, while God and glorv* are cast aside ; that he who is aU should seem to them as nothing, and that which is nothing should seem to them as good as all ; that God should set mankind in such a race where heaven or hell is their certain end, and that they should sit down, and loiter, or run after the childish toys of the world, and so much forget the prize that they should run for. Were it but possible for one of us to see the whole of this business as the all-seeing God doth ; to see at one riew both heaven* and heU, which men are so near ; and see what most men in the world are minding, and what they are doing every- day, it would be the saddest sight that could be imagined. Oh how should we marvel at theu- madness, and lament their self-delusion ! Oh poor distracted world ! what is it you rim after ? and what is it that you neglect ? If God had never told them what they were sent into the world to do, or whither they were going, or what was before them in another world, then they had been excusable ; but he hath told them over and over, tUl they were wear}- of it. Had he left it doubtful, there had been some excuse ; but it is his sealed word, and they profess to believe it, and would take it ill of us if we should question whether they do believe it or not. Beloved, I come not to accuse any of you particularly of this Clime ; but seeing it is the commonest cause of men's dest]*uction, I suppose you will judge it the fittest matter for our inquirv-. and deserving om* greatest care for the cure. To which end I shall, 1. Endeavour the conviction of the MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION- 21 guilty. 2. Shall give them such considerations as may tend to humble and reform them. 3. I shall conclude with such direction as may help them that are willing to escape the destroying power of this sin. And for the first, consider, 1. It is the case of most sinners to think themselves freest from those sins that they are most enslaved to ; and one reason why we cannot reform them, is because we cannot convince them of their guilt. It is the nature of sin so far to blind and befool the sinner, that he knoweth not what he doth, but thinketh he is free from it when it reigneth in him, or when he is committing it : it bringeth men to be so much unacquainted with themselves, that they know not what they think, or what they mean and intend, nor what they love or hate, much less what they are habituated and disposed to. They are alive to sin, and dead to all the reason, consideration, and resolution that should recover them, as if it were only by their sinning that we must know they are alive. May I hope that you that hear me to-day are but willing to know the truth of your case, and then I shall be encouraged to proceed to an inquiry. God will judge impartially ; why should not we do so ? Let me, therefore, by these following questions, try whether none of you are slighters of Christ and your own salvation. And follow me, I beseech you, by putting them close to yovir own hearts, and faithfully answering them, 1. Things that men highly value a\tJ1 be remembered, they will be matter of their freest and sweetest thoughts. This is a known case. Do not those then make light of Christ and salvation that think of them so seldom and coldly in comparison of other things ? Follow thy o^vn heart, man, and observe what it daily runneth after ; and then judge whether it make not light of Christ. AVe cannot persuade men to one hour's sober considera- tion what they should do for an interest in Christ, or in thankfulness for his love, and yet they will not believe that they make light of him. 22 ^lAKESTG LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 2. Tilings that we hlglilv value will be matter of our dis- course ; the judgment and heart mil conmiand the tongue. Freely and dehghtfully will our speech run after them. This also is a known case. Do not those then make light of Christ and salvation, that shun the mention of his name, unless it be in a vain or sinM use? Those that love not the company where Christ and salvation is much talked of, but think it trouble- some, precise discom'se : that had rather hear some merr}- jests, or idle tales, or talk of their riches or business in the world. AMien you may follow them fi-om morning to night, and scarce have a savoury word of Christ ; but perhaps some slight and weary mention of him sometimes; judge whether these make not light of Christ and salvation. Hoav seriously do they talk of the world (Psal. cxliv. 8, 11) and speak vanity ! but how heartlessly do they make mention of Christ and salvation ! 3. The thmgs that we highly value we would secure the possession of, and therefore would take any convenient course to have all doubts and fears about them well resol- ved. Do not those men then make light of Christ and sal- vation that have hved twenty or thu-ty years in uncertainty whether they have any part in these or not, and yet never seek out for the right resolution of theu* doubts? Are all that hear me this day certain they shall be saved ? Oh that they were ! Oh, had yon not made light of salvation, you could not so easily bear such doubtings of it ; you could not rest till you had made it sure, or done yom* best to make it sure. Have you nobody, to inquire of, that might help you in such a work ? Why, you have ministers that are purposely appointed to that office. Have you gone to them, and told them the doubtfulness of your case, and asked their help in the judging of your condition ? Alas, ministers may sit in their studies fi'om one year to another, before ten persons among a thousand will come to them on such an errand ! Do not these make hght of Christ and salvation ? When the gospel pierceth the heart indeed, they cry out, " Men and brethi*en, what shall we do to be MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 23 saved?" Acts xvi. 30. Trembling and astonished, Paul cries out, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" Acts ix. 6. And so did the convinced Jews to Peter, Acts ii. 37. But when hear we such questions? 4. The things that we value do deeply affect us, and some motions will be in the heart according to om- estimation of them. O sirs, if men made not light of these things, what working would there be in the hearts of all our hearers ! "\^^lat strange affections would it raise in them to hear of the matters of the world to come ! How would their hearts melt before the power of the gospel ! What sorrow would be TVTOught in the discovery of thcu' sins ! What astonish- ment at the consideration of then' misery ! ^^^hat unspeak- able joy at the glad tidings of salvation by the blood of Christ ! TVHiat resolution would be raised in them upon the discovery of their duty ! Oh what hearers should we have, if it were not for this sin ! TVhereas now we are hker to weary them, or preach them asleep vnth matters of this un- speakable moment. We talk to them of Christ and salva- tion till we make their heads ache : little Avould one think by their careless carriage that they heard and regarded what we said, or thought we spoke at all to them. 5. Our estimation of things ^vill be seen in the diligence of our endeavom's. Tliat which we highliest value, we shall think no pains too gi'eat to obtain. Do not those men then make light of Christ and salvation, that think all too much that they do for them; that murmur at his service, and think it too gTievous for them to endure ? that ask of his service as Judas of the ointment, "Wliat need this waste ? Cannot men be saved -without so much ado ? This is more ado than needs. For the world they will labour all the day, and all theu' lives ; but for Christ and salvation they are afraid of doing too much. Let us preach to them as long as we will, we cannot bring them to relish or resolve upon a life of holiness. Follow them to their houses, atid you shall not hear them read a chapter, nor call upon God with their families once a day : nor ^vill they allow him that one day in seven which he hath separated to his service. 24 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 'But pleasure, or worldly business, or idleness, must have a part. And many of them are so far hardened as to reproach them that ^vill not be as mad as themselves. And is not Christ worth the seeking ? Is not everlasting salvation worth more than all this ? Doth not that soul make light of all these, that thinks his case more worth than they ? Let but common sense judge. 6. That which we most highly value, we think we cannot buy too dear : Christ and salvation are freely given, and yet the most of men go without them, because they cannot enjoy the world and them together. They are called but to part with that which would liinder them fi-om Christ, and they will not do it. They are called but to give God liis own, and to resign all to his will, and let go the profits and pleasures of this world, when they must let go either Christ or them, and they will not. They think this too dear a bargain, and say they cannot spare these things : they must hold their credit with men ; they must look to their estates : how shall they live else ? They must have their pleasure, whatsoever becomes of Christ and salvation : as if they could live Avithout Christ better than without these : as if they were afraid of being losers by Christ, or could make a saving match by losing their souls to gain the world. Christ hath told us over and over, that if we will not for- sake all for him we cannot be his disciples, Matt. x. Far are these men from forsaking all, and yet will needs think that they are his disciples indeed. 7. That which men highly esteem, they would help their friends to as well as themselves. Do not those men make light of Christ and salvation, that can take so much care to leave their children portions in the world, and do so little to help them to heaven ? that provide outward neces- saries so carefully for their families, but do so little to the saving of their souls? Their neglected children and friends will witness, that either Christ, or their children's souls, or both, were made light of 8. That which men highly esteem, they will so diligently seek after, that you may see it in the success, if it be a MAKING LIGHT OF" CHRIST AND SALVATION. 25 matter within their reach. You may see how many make light of Christ, by the little knowledge they have of him, and the little communion with him, and communication fi'om him ; and the little, yea, none of his special gi'ace in them. Alas ! how many ministers can speak it to the sor- row of their hearts, that many of their people know almost nothing of Christ, though they hear of him daily ! Nor know they what they must do to be saved : if we ask them an account of these things, they answer as if they under- stood not what we say to them, and tell us they are no scholars, and therefore think they are excusable for their ignorance. Oh if these men had not made light of Christ and their salvation, but had bestowed but half as much pains to know and enjoy him as they have done to understand the matters of their trades and callings in the world, they would not have been so ignorant as they are : they make light of these things, iind therefore will not be at the pains to study or learn them. "NMien men that can learn the hardest trade in a few years, have not learned a catechism, nor how to understand their creed, under twenty or thirty years' preaching, nor can abide to be questioned about such things ; doth not this shew that they have slighted them in their hearts ? How will these dcspisers of Christ and sal- vation be able one day to look him in the face, and to give an account of these neglects ? Thus much I have spoken in order to your conviction. Do not some of your consciences by this time smite you, and say, I am the man that have made light of my salva- tion ? If they do not, it is because you make light of it stUl, for all that is said to you. But because, if it be the will of the Lord, I would fain have this damning distemper cured, and am loth to leave you in such a desperal^e condi- tion, if I knew how to remedy it, I will give you some con- siderations, which may move you, if ) 0u be men of reason and understanding, to look better about you ; and I be- seech you to weigh them, a)id make use of them as we go, and lay open your hearts to the work of grace, and sadly 26 MAKING LIGHT OF CHEIST AND SALVATION. bethink you what a case you are in, if you prove such as make hght of Christ. Consider, 1. Thou makest light of him that made not light of thee wjio didst deserve it. Thou wast worthy of no- thing but contempt. As a man, what art thou but a worm to God ? As a sinner, thou art far \\icr than a toad : yet Christ was so far from making light of thee and thy happi- ness, that he came down mto the flesh, and Hved a life of sulfeiing, and offered himself a sacrifice to the justice which thou hadst provoked, that thy miserable soid might have a remedy. It is no less than mu'acles of love and mercy, that he hath shewed to us : and yet shall we shght them after all ? Angels admire them, whom they less concern (1 Pet. i. 12), and shall redeemed smners make hght of them? What barbarous, yea, deAilish, yea, worse than devihsh m- gTatitude is this ! The devils never had a savioiu' offered them, but thou hast, and dost thou yet make light of Him ? 2. Consider, the work of man's salvation by Jesus Christ is the master-piece of all the works of God, wherein he would have his love and mercy to be magnified. As the creation declareth his goodness and power, so doth redemp- tion his goodness and mercy ; he hath contrived the very frame of his worship so, that it shall much consist in the magnifsing of this work ; and after all this, will you make light of it? " His name is AVonderful," Isa. ix. 6. " He did the work that none could do," John xv. 2-i. Greater love could none shew than his," John xv. 13. How great was the evil and misery that he dehvered us from ! the good prociu'ed for us ! All are wonders, fi'om his bu*th to his ascen- sion ;**fi'om our new birth to our gloiification, all are won- ders of matchless mercy — and yet do you make hght of them ? 3 . You make hght of matters of greatest excellency and moment in the world : you know not what it is that you slight : had you well known, you could not have done it. As Christ said to the woman of Samiuia (John iv. 10), Hadst thou known who it is that speakcst to thee, thou MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 27 wouldst have asked of him the waters of hfe: had they knowni they would not have crucified the Lord of glory, 1 Cor. ii. 8. So had you known what Christ is, you would not have made hght of him ; had you been one day in heaven, and but seen what they possess, and seen also what miserable souls must endure tliat are shut out, you would never sure have made so light of Christ again. O sirs, it is no trifles or jesting matters that the gospel speaks of I must needs profess to you, that when I have the most serious thoughts of these things myself, I am ready to marvel that such amazing matters do not overwhelm the souls of men ; that the greatness of the subject doth not so overmatch our understandings and affections, as even to drive men beside themselves, but that God hath always somewhat allayed it by the distance : much more that men should be so blockish as to make light of them. O Lord, that men did but know what everlasting glon,- and ever- lasting torments are : would they then hear us as they do ? would they read and think of these things as they do? I profess I have been ready to wonder, when I have heard such weighty things delivered, how people can forbear cry- ing out in the congregation ; much more how they can rest till they have gone to their ministers, and learned what they should do to be saved, that this great business might be put out of doubt. Oh that heaven and hell should work no more on men ! Oh that everlastingness should work no more ! Oh how can you forbear when you are alone to think vnth yourselves what it is to be everlastingly in joy or in torment ! I wonder that such thoughts do not break yoiu- sleep ; and that they come not in your mind when you are about your labour ! I wonder how you can almost do any thing else ! how you can have any quietness in your minds ! how you can eat, or drink, or rest, till you have got some oTound of everlasting consolations ! Is that a man or a corpse that is not affected with matters of tliis moment ? that can be readier to sleep than to tremble when he heareth how he must stand at the bar of God ? Is that a man or a clod of clay that ch\ rise and lie down without being deeply 28 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION'. affected with his everlasting estate? that can follow his worldly business, and make nothing of the great business of salvation or damnation ; and that when they know it is hard at hand ! Truly, sirs, when I think of the weight of the matter, I wonder at the \eT\ best of God's saints upon earth that they are no better, and do no more in so weighty a case. I wonder at those whom the world accounteth more holy than needs, and scorns for making too much ado, that they can put off Chiist and their souls Avith so Httle ; that they pour not out their souls in ever}- supplication ; that they are not more taken up with God ; that their thoughts be not more serious in preparation for their accoimt. I wonder that they be not a hundred times more strict in their lives, and more laborious and unwearied in striving for the crown, than they are. And for myself, as I am ashamed of my dull and cai-eless heart, and of my slow and impro- fitable coiurse of life ; so the Lord knows I am ashamed of every sermon that I preach : when I think what I have been speaking of. and who sent me, and what men's salvation or damnation is so much concerned in it, I am ready to tremble, lest God should judge me as a shghter of his truth, and the souls of men, and lest in the best sermon I should be guilty of their blood. Methinks we should not speak a word to men in matters of such consequence -without tears, or the greatest eaniestness that possibly we can : were not we too much guilty of the sin wliieh we reprove, it would be so. AMiether we are alone, or in company, methinks oiu* end, and such an end, should still be in oiu* mind, and as beforc our eyes ; and we should sooner forget any tlung, and set li^ht bv anv thinjr, or bv all things, than bv this. Consider, 4. AMio is it that sends this weighty message to you ■? Is it not God himself y Shall the God of heaven speak, and men make light of it ? You would not slight the voice of an angel, or a prince. 5. Whose salvation is it that you make light of? Is it not your own ? Are you no more near or dear to your- selves than to make hght of yoiu- own happiness or miseri- ? Why, sirs, do } ou not care whether you be saved or dunmed? MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AXD SALVATION. 29 is self-love lost ? are you turned your ovm. enemies ? As he that slighteth his meat doth slight liis life ; so if you slight Christ, whatsoever you may think, you will find it was your own salvation that you slighted. Hear what he saith, " All they that hate me love death," Prov. viii. 36. 6. Your sin is greater, in that you profess to beheve the gospel which you make so light of. For a professed mfidel to do it that believes not that ever Christ died, or rose again ; or doth not believe that there is a heaven or hell ; this were no such marvel : but for you that make it your creed, and your yery reHgion, and call yourselves Christians, and have been baptized into tliis faith, and seemed to stand to it, this is the wonder, and hath no excuse. What ! be- lieve that you shall Hve in endless joy or torment, and yet make no more of it to escape torment, and obtain that joy ! What ! believe that God will shortly judge you, and yet make no more preparation for it ! Either say plainly, I am no Christian, I do not believe these wonderful things, I will believe nothing but what I see ; or else let your hearts be affected with your belief, and live as you say you do believe. What do you think when you repeat the creed, and men- tion Christ's judgment and everlasting life ? 7, AVhat are these things you set so much by, as to pre- fer them before Christ and the saving of your souls ? Have you found a better fi-iend, a greater and surer happiness than this ? Good Lord ! what dung is it that men make so much of, while they set so hght by everlasting glory ! "What toys are they that they are daily taken up with, while mat- ters of life and death are neglected ! Why, sirs, if you had every one a kingdom in your hopes, what were it in com- parison of the everlasting kingdom ? I cannot but look upon all the glorj' and dignity of this world, lands and lord- ships, cro-vvns and kingdoms, even as on some brain-sick, beggarly fellow, that borroweth fine clothes, and plays the part of a king or a lord for an hour on a stage, and then comes down, and the sport is ended, and they are beggai's again. Were it not for God's interest in the authority of magistrates, or for the service they might do bim, I should 30 MAKING -LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. judge no better of tliem. For as to their own glory, it is but a smoke : ■what matter is it whether you Uve poor or rich, unless it were a greater matter to die rich than it is 1" You know well enough that death levels all. AMiat matter is it at judgment, whether you be to answer for the life of a rich man or a poor man ? Is Dives then any better than Lazarus ? O that men knew what a poor decei^■ing shadow they grasp at, while they let go the everlasting substance ! The strongest, and richest, and most voluptuous sinners, do but lay in fuel for their soitows, while they tlmik they ai-e gatheiing together a treasm-e. Alas ! they ai'e asleep, and dream that they are happy ; but when they awake, what a change will they find ! Their crown is made of thorns : their pleasm'e hath such a sting as will stick in the heart through all 'eternity, except unfeigned repentance do prevent it, O how sadly will these wretches be cominced ere long, what a foolish bargain they made in selHng Christ and their salvation for these tiifles ! Let your fiu-ms and merchandise then save you if they can ; and do that for you that Christ would have done. Cry then to thy Baal to save thee ! Oh what thoughts have drunkards and adulterei^s, &c. of Clu-ist, that will not part with the basest lust for him ! " For a piece of bread,'' saith Solomon, such men do transgress," Prov. xxviii. 11. 8. To set so Hght by Christ and salvation, is a certain mai'k that thou hast no part in them, and it' thou so con- tmue, that Chi-ist will set as light by thee : " Those that honour him he will honom', and those that despise him shall be lightly esteemed," 1 Sam. ii. 30. Thou Avilt feel one day that thou canst not live -srithout him ; thou wUt confess then thy need of him ; and then thou mayest go look for a sariour where thou wilt ; for he will be no saviour for thee hereafter, that wouldst not value him, and submit to him here. Then who will prove the loser by thy contempt? O what a tlung will it be for a poor miserable soul to cry to Christ for help in the day of extremity, and to hear so sad an answer as this ! Thou didst set hght bv me and my law in the day of thy prosperity, and I vail now set as Hght MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST .A>sD SALVATION. 31 by thee in thy adversity. Eead Prov. i. 24, to the end. Tliou that, as Esau, didst sell thy birthright for a mess of pottage, shalt then find no place for repentance, though thou seek it with tears, Heb. xii. 17. Do you think that Christ shed his blood to save them that continue to make light of it ? and to save them that value a cup of diiok or a lust be- fore his salvation ? I tell you, sirs, though you set so hght by Chiist and salvation, God doth not so : he will not give them on such terms as these : he valueth the blood of his Son, and the everlasting glory ; and he will make you value them if ever you have them. Xay, this will be thy con- demnation, and leaveth no remedy. AH the world cannot save him that sets light by Cluist, Heb. ii. 3 ; Luke xiv. 24. None of them shall taste of his supper. Matt. x. 37. Nor can you blame him to deny you what you made hght of yourselves. Can you find fault if you miss of the salva- tion which you slighted ? 9. The time is near when Christ and salvation will not be made Hght of as now they are. When God hath shaken those careless souls out of their bodies, and you must an- swer for all your sins in your own name ; oh then what would you give for a saviour ! When a thousand bills shall be brought in against you, and none to reheve you ; then jovL will consider. Oh ! Christ would now have stood between me and the wrath of God : had I not despised him, he would have answered all. When you see the world hath left you, and your companions m sin have deceived them- selves and you, and aU your merry days are gone; then what would you give for that Chi'ist and salvation that now you accoimt not worth your laboiu* ! Do you think when you see the judgment set, and you are doomed to everlast- ing perdition for yom* wickedness, that you should then make as light of Christ as now ? Why will you not judge now as you know you shall judge then ? 'N^'ill he then be worth ten thousand worlds ? and is he not now worth your highest estimation and dearest afiection ? 10. God -vNill not only deny thee that salvation thou madest light of, but he will take fi:om thee all that which 32 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. thou (lidst value before it : he that most highly esteems Christ shall have him, and the creatures so far as they are good here, and liim without the creature hereafter, because the creature is not useful ; and he that sets more by the creature than by Christy shall have some of the creature ■without Christ here, and neither Christ nor it hereafter. So much of these considerations, which may shew the true face of this heinous sin. "SVhat think you now, friends, of this business ? Do you not see by this time what a case that soul is in that maketh light of Christ and salvation ? "What need then is there that you should take heed lest this should prove your own case ! The Lord knows it is too common a case. A^^^oever is found guilty at the last of this sin, it were better for that man he had never been born. It were better for him he had been a Turk or Indian, that never had heard the name of a Saviour, and that never had salvation offered to him : for such men " have no cloak for their sin," John xv. 22. Besides all the rest of their sins, they have this killing sin to answer for, which wiU undo them. And this will aggra- vate their misery, that Christ whom they set light by must be their Judge, and for this sin will he judge them. Oh that such would now consider how they will answer that question that Christ put to their predecessors, "How will ye escape the damnation of hell?" Matt, xxiii. 33: or, " How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation? " Heb. ii. 3. Can you escape without a Christ? or will a despised Christ save you then ? If he be accursed that sets light by father or mother (Deut, xxvii. 16), what then is he that sets Hght by Christ ? It was the heinous sin of the Jews, that among them were found such as set light by flither and mother, Ezek. xxii. 7. But among us, men slight the Father of spirits ! In the name of God, brethren, I beseech you to consider how you will then bear his anger which you nowmakft light of! You that cannot make hght of a little sickness or want, or of natural death, no, not of a tooth-ache, but groan as if you were undone ; how will you then make light of the fury of the Lord, which will burn MAKING LIGHT OF CHEIST AND SALVATION. 33 against the contemners of his grace ! Doth it not behove you beforehand to think of these things ? Hitherto I have been convincing you of the evil of the sin, and the danger that followeth : I come now to know your resolution for the time to come. ^Vhat say you ? Do you mean to set as light by Christ and salvation as hitherto you have done ; and to be the same men after all this ? I hope not. Oh let not your ministers that would fain saxa you, be brought in as witnesses against you to condemn you ; at least, I beseech you, put not this upon me. hy, sirs, if the Lord shall say to us at judgment. Did you never tell these men what Christ did for their souls, and what need they had of him, and how nearly it did concern them to look to their salvation, that they made light of it ? "We must needs say the truth ; Yea, Lord, we told them of it as plainly as we could; we would have gone on our knees to them if we had thought it would have prevailed ; we did entreat them as earnestly as tve could to consider these things : they heard of these things every day ; but, alas, we could never get them to their hearts : they gave us the hearing, but they made light of all that we could say to them. Oh ! sad will it prove on your side, if you force us to such an answer as this. But if the Lord do move the hearts of any of you, and you resolve to make hght of Christ no more ; or if any of you say. We do not make light of him ; let me tell you here in the conclusion what you must do, or else you shall be judged as slighters of Christ and salvation. And first I will tell you what will not serve the turn. 1. You may have a notional knowledge of Christ, and the necessity of his blood, and of the excellency of salvation, and yet perish as neglecters of him. This is too common among professed Christians. You may say all that other men do of him : what gospel passages had Balaam ! Jesus I know, and Paul I know, the very devils could say, who beUeve and tremble, James ii. 19. 2. You may weep at the history of Christ's passion, when c 34 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. yon read how he was used by the Jews, and yet make light of him, and perish for so doing. 3. You may come desirously to his word and ordinances. Herod heard gladly ; so do many that yet must perish as neglecters of salvation. 4. You may in a fit of fear have strong desires after a Chi-ist. to ease you, and to save you from God's wrath, as Saul had of Da-v-id to play before him ; and yet you may perish for making light of Christ. 5. You may obey him in many things so far as will not ruin you in the world, and escape much of the pollutions of the world by his knowledge, and yet neglect him. 6. You may suffer and lose much for him, so far as leaveth you an earthly felicity ; as Ananias ; and the young man. Matt. xix. 16-22. Some parcels of their pleasures and profits many will part with in hope of salvation, that shall perish everlastingly for valuing it no more. 7. You may be esteemed by others a man zealous for Christ, and loved and admired upon that account, and yet be one that shall peiish for making light of him. 8. You may veiily think yourselves, that you set more by Christ and salvation than any thing, and yet be mistaken, and be judged as contemners of him : Christ justifieth not all that justify' themselves. 9. You may be zealous preachers of Christ and salvation, and reprove others for this neglect, and himent the sin of the world in the like expression as I have done this day ; and yet if you or I have no better evidence to prove our hearty esteem of Christ and salvation, we are undone for all this. You hear, brethren, what will not serve the turn ; wiU you now hear what persons you must be if you would not be condemned as slighters of Christ? O search whether it be thus with your souls or no I 1. Yom- esteem of Christ and salvation must be greater than yom- esteem of all the honom^, profits, or pleasures of this world, or else you slight him : no less will be accoimted sincere, nor accepted to your salvation. Think not this 3L\KIXG LIGHT OF CHRIST AND S-:U.VATIOX. 35 hard, wben there is no comparison in the matters esteemed. To esteem the greatest glor}- on earth before Chi-ist and everlasting gloiy, is a gi-eater folly and Avrong to Christ, than to esteem a dog before yoiu* prince, "would be folly iu you, and a wrong to him. Scriptm'e is plain in this ; " He that loveth father or mother, wile, children, house, land, or his o-wn Hfe, more than me, is not worthy of me, and cannot be my disciple," Matt. x. 37 ; Luke xiv. 26. 2, You must manifest this esteem of Ckrist and salvation in your daily endeavours and seeking after him, and in part- ing with any thing that he shall requii'e of you. God is a Spirit, and will not take a h}-pocritical profession instead of the heart and spmtual serAice wliich he commandeth. He will have the heart or nothing ; and the chief room in the heart too : these must be had. If you say that you do not make light of Christ, or will not hereafter ; let me try you in these few paiticulars, whether indeed you mean as you say, and do not dissemble. 1 . AVill you for the time to come make Christ and salva- tion the chiefest matter of your care and study ? Thrust them not out of yoiu" thoughts as a needless or unprofitable sub- ject ; nor allow it only some running, sHght thoughts, which will not affect you. But will you make it your business once a day to bethink you soberly, when you are alone, what Christ hath done for you, and what he will do, if you do not make light of it ; and what it is to be everlastingly happy or miserable ? And what all things in this world are m compai-ison of yom- salvation ; and how they will shortly leave you ; and what mind you will be then of, and how you will esteem them ? Will you promise me now and then to make it yom* business to withch-aw yom'selves fi-om the world, and set yourselves to such considerations as these ? If you wiU not, are not you sHghters of Chiist and salvation, that A^ill not be persuaded soberly to think on them ? This is my fii'st question to put you to the trial, whether you A\ill value Christ or not. 2. Will you for the time to come set more by the word of God, wliich contains the discovery of these excellent things, 36 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. and is your charter for salvation, and your guide thereunto ? You cannot set by Christ, but you must set by his word : therefore the despisers of it are threatened with destruction, Prov. xiii. 13. Will you therefore attend to the pubhc preaching of this word ; will you read it daily ; will you re- solve to obey it whatever it may cost you ? If you will not do this, but make light of the word of God, you shall be judged as such as make light of Christ and salvation, what- ever you may fondly promise to yourselves. 3. Will you for the time to come esteem more of the offi- cers of Christ, whom he hath purposely appointed to guide you to salvation ; and will you make use of them for that end ? Alas, it is not to give the minister a good word, and speak well of him, and pay him his tithes duly, that Avill serve the turn : it is for the necessity of your souls that God hath set them in his church ; that they may be as physicians under Christ, or his apothecaries to apply his remedies to your spiritual diseases, not only in pubUc, but also in private : that you may have some to go to for the resolving of your doubts, and for your instruction where you are ignorant, and for the help of their exliortations and prayers. Will you use hereafter to go to your ministers privately, and soHcit theni for advice ? And if you have not such of your own as are fit, get advice from others ; and ask them, 'What you shall do to be saved ? how to prepare for death and judg- ment ? And will you obey the word of God in their mouths ? If you will not do this much, nor so much as inquire of those that should teach you, nor use the means which Christ hath estabhshed in his church for your help, your own consciences shall one day witness that you were such as made light of Christ and salvation. If any of you doubt whether it be your duty thus to ask counsel of your teachers, as sick men do of their physicians, let your own necessities resolve you, let God's express word resolve you ; see what is said of the priests of the Lord, even before Chiist's coming, when much of then- work did lie in cere- monials : " My covenant was with him of life and peace : and I gave them to him (to LcA-i) for the feai* wherewith MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 3 7 he feared me, and was afraid before my name. The law of truth was in his mouth, and iniquity was not found in his lips ; he walked with me in peace and equity, and did turn many away from iniquity. For the priest's lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth : for he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts," Mai. ii. 5, 6. Nay, you must not only inqviire, and submit to their ad- vice, but also to their just reprehensions, and church cen- sures ; and without proud repining submit to the discipHne of Christ in their hands, if it shall be used in the congrega- tions whereof you are members. 4. Will you for the time to come make conscience of daily and earnest prayer to God, that you may have a part in Chi-ist and salvation ? Do not go out of doors till you have breathed out these desires to God ; do not lie do^m to rest till you have breathed out these desires : say not, God knoweth my necessity without so often praying ; for though he do, yet he will have you to know them, and feel them, and exercise your desires and all the graces of his Spirit in these duties : it is he that hath commanded to pray continually, though he know your needs without it, 1 Thess. V. 17. Christ himself spent whole nights in prayer, and encourageth us to this course, Luke xviii. 1 . If you will not be persuaded to this much, how can you say that you make not Ught of Christ and salvation ? 5. Will you for the time to come resolvedly cast away your known sins at the command of Christ ? K you have been proud, or contentious, or malicious, and revengeftd, be so no more. If you have been adulterers, or swearers, or cursers, be so no more. You cannot hold these, and yet set by Chi'ist and salvation. What say you ? Are you resolved to let them go ? If not, when you know it is the will of Christ, and he hath told you such shall not enter into his Idngdom, do not you make light of him ? 6. Will you for the time to come serve God in the dearest as well as in the cheapest part of his service ? not only with your tongues, but with youi' purses and your deeds ? Shall 38 MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. tlie poor find that you set more by Christ than this world ? Shall it appear in any good uses that God calls you to be liberal in, according to your abilities? " Pure religion and undefiled before God is this, To visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction," James i. 27. WiU you resolve to stick to Christ, and make sure this work of salvation, though it cost you all that you have in the world ? If you think these terms too dear, you make light of Christ, and will be judged accordingly. 7 . Will you for the time to come make much of all things that tend to your salvation ; and take every help that God offercth you, and gladly make use of all his ordinances ? Attend upon his strengthening sacraments ; spend the Lord's own day in these holy emplo\Tnents ; mstruct your children and servants in these things, Deut. vi. 6, 7 ; get into good com- pany that set their faces heavenward, and will teach you the way, and help you thither ; and take heed of the company of wicked scorners, or foolish, voluptuous, fleshly men, or any that would hinder you in this work. Will you do these things ? Or will you shew that you are slighters of Christ by neglecting them ? 8. Will you do all this with delight ; not as your toil, but as your pleasure ? And take it for }'our highest ho- nour that you may be Christ's disciples, and may be ad- mitted to serve and worship him ; and rejoice with holy confidence in the sufficiency of that sacrifice by which you may have pardon of all your failings, and right to the in- heritance of the saints in light ? If you will do these things sincerely, you wiU shew that you set by Christ and salva- tion ; else not. Dearly beloved in the Lord, I have now done that work which I came upon ; what effect it hath, or will have, upon your hearts, I know not, nor is it any further in my power to accomplish that which my soul desireth for you. Were it the Lord's -will that I might have my wish herein, the words that you have this day heard should so stick by you, that the secure should be awakened by them, and none of you should perish by the slighting of yom- salvation. I. MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SALVATION. 39 cannot now follow you to your several habitations to apply this word to your particular necessities ; but O that I could make every mar s xu»CieriOt a preacher to himself that it might do it, which is ever ^vith you ! — That the next, time you go prayerless to bed, or about your business, conscience might cry out, Dost thou set no more by Christ and thy salvation ? That the next time you are tempted to think hardly of a holy and diligent life (I will not sajtto de- ride it as more ado than needs), conscience might cry out to thee. Dost thou set so Kght by Christ and thy salvation ? That the next time you are ready to rush upon known sin, and to please your fleshly desires against the command of God, conscience might cry out, Is Christ and salvation no more worth, than to cast them away, or venture them for thy lusts ? That when you are follo"\ving the world with your most eager desii'cs, forgetting the world to come, and the change that is a httle before you, conscience might cry out to you. Is Christ and salvation no more worth than so ? That when you are next spending the Lord's day in idleness or vain sports, conscience might teU you what you are doing. In a word, that in all your neglects of duty, your sticking at the supposed labour or cost of a godly life, yea, in all your cold and lazy prayers and performances, con- science might tell you how unsuitable such endeavours are to the reward ; and that Christ and salvation should not be so sUghted. I ^vill say no more but this at this time. It is a thousand pities that when God hath provided a Sa\'iour for the world, and when Christ hath suffered so much for their sins, and made so full a satisfaction to justice, and purchased so glorious a kingdom for his saints, and all this is offered so freely to sinners, to lost, unworthy sinners, even for no- thing, that yet so many millions should everlastingly perish because they make light of their Saviour and salvation, and prefer the vain world and their lusts before them. I have delivered my message, the Lord open your hearts to receive it. I have persuaded you -svith the word of truth and soberness; the Lord persuade you more effectually, or else all this is lost. Amen. • A CALL TO THE UJfCONVERTED TO TURN AND LIVE, AND ACCEPT OF MEBCT WHILE MEBCT MAT BE HAD, AS EVER THET WO OLD FIND MEBCX IN THE DAT OF THEIR EXTBEMITT ; FROM THE LIVING GOD: To which are added, Forms of Prayer for Morning and Evening for a Family, for a penitent Sinner, and for the Lord's Bay. PREFACE In that short acquaintance I had -with that reverend learned servant of Christ, Bishop Usher, he was oft, from first to last, importuning me to write a directory for the several ranks of professed Christians, which might distinctly give each one their portion ; beginning -with the unconverted, and then proceeding to the babes in Christ, and then to the strong ; and mixing some special helps agamst the several sins that they are addicted to. By the suddenness of his motion at our first congress, I perceived it was in his mind before ; and I told him, both that it was abundantly done by many already, and that his unacquaintedness v.itli my weakness, might make hun think me fitter for it then I was. But this did not satisfy him, but still he made it his request. I confess I was not moved by his reasons, nor did I appre- hend any gi-eat need of domg more than is done in that way: nor that I was likely to do more. And, therefore, I parted fi:'om him without the least purpose to answer his desire. But since his death, his words often came into my mind ; and the great reverence I bore to him, did the more incline me to think with some complacency of his motion. And having of late intended to write a Family Dii'ectory," I began to apprehend how congruously the forcmentioned work should lead the way ; and the several conditions of men's souls be spoken of, before we come to the several relations. Hereupon I resolved, by God's assistance, to proceed in the order following. Fu'st, to speak to the im- penitent, unconverted sinners, who are not yet so nuuh as purposmg to tmTi ; or at least are not setting about the work. And ■with these, I thought, a wakening persuasive was a more necessary means than mere directions ; for directions suppose men wilUng to obey them. But the per- sons that we have fii'st to deal -with, are wilfid and asleep in 44 PREFACE. sin, and as men that are past feeling, having given them- selves over to sin -with greediness, Eph. iv. 19. My next work must be for those that have some purposes to turn, and are about the work, to direct them for a thorough and a true conversion, that they miscarry not in the birth. The third piU't must be directions for the younger and weaker sort of Christians, that they may be established, built up, and persevere. The fourth part, directions for lapsed and backsliding Christians, for their safe recovery. Besides these, there is intended some short persuasions and direc- tions against some special errors of the times, and against some common, Idlling sins. -Is for directions to doubting, troubled consciences, that is done already. And the strong I shall not wi'ite directions for, because they are so much taught of God already. And then the last part is intended more especially for famili^, as such, directing the several relations in their duties. Some of these are already -written. Whether I shall have life and leisure for the rest, God only knoweth : and therefore I shall publish the several parts by themselves, as I write them. And the rather because they are intended for men of different states, and because I would not deter them by the bulk or price, from reading what is wi'itten for their benefit. The use that this part is published for, is, 1. For masters and parents to read often in then' families, if they have servants or children that are yet unconverted. 2. For all such unconverted persons to read and consider of themselves. 3. For the richer sort, that have any pity on such miserable souls, to give to the unsanctified that need them (if they have not fitter at hand to use and give). The Lord awake us to work while it is day, for the saring of our own and others' souls, in subser- \aency to the blessed God, the ^laker, the Redeemer, and the Sanctifier of souls. mCHAED BAXTER. December 10, 1657 PREFACE. 45 TO ALL UNSANCTIFIED PERSONS THAT SHALL READ THIS BOOK, ESPECIALLY MY HEARERS IN THE PARISH OF KIDDERMINSTER; Men and Brethren, The eternal God that made you for life everlasting, and hath redeemed you by his only Son, when you had lost it and yourselves, being mindful of you in your sin and misery, hath indited the gospel, and sealed it by his Spirit, and com- manded his ministers to preach it to the world, that pardon* being freely offered you, and heaven being set before you, he might call you off from your fleshly pleasures, and from following after this deceitful world, and acquaint you with the life you were created and redeemed for, before you are dead and past remedy. He sendeth you not prophets or apostles, that receive their message by immediate revelation, but yet he calleth you by his ordinary ministers, who are com- missioned by him to preach the same gospel which Christ and his apostles first delivered. The Lord standeth over you, and seeth how you forget him and your latter end, and how light you make of everlasting things, as men that under- stand not what they have to do or suffer. He seeth how 1 told you are in sin, and how fearless of his threatenings, and how careless of your souls, and how the works of infidels are in your Hves, while the belief of Christians is in your mouths. He seeth the drcadfid day at hand, when your sorrows Avill begin, and you must lament all this with fruit- less cries in torment and desperation ; and then the remem- brance of your folly will teai' your hearts, if true conversion now prevent it not. In compassion of your sinful, miser- able souls, the Lord, that better knows your case than you can know it, hath made it our duty to speak to you in his name (2 Cor. v. 19), and to tell you plainly of your sm and misery, and what Avill be your end, and how sad a change 46 PREFACE. you will shortly see, if yet you go on a little longer. Hav- ing bought you at so dear a rate as the blood of his Son Jesus Christ, and made you so free and general a promise of pardon and grace, and everlasting glory, he commandeth us to tender all this to you, as the gift of God, and to en- treat you to consider of the necessity and worth of what he offereth. He seeth and pitieth you, while you are drowned in worldly cares and pleasm-es, and eagerly following child- ish toys, and wasting that short and precious time for a thing of nought, in which you should make ready for an everlasting life ; and therefore he hath commanded us to call after you, and to tell you how you lose yom- labour, and are about to lose your souls, and to tell you what greater and better things you might certainly have, if you would hearken to his call, Isa. Iv. 1-3. We beheve and obey the voice of God ; and come to you daily on his mes- sage, who hath charged us to preach and be instant vnth. you in season and out of season, and to lift up our voice like a trumpet, and shew you yom* transgressions and your sins, Isa. Iviii. 1 ; 2 Tim. iv. 1,2. But woe and alas ! to the grief of our souls, and your own undoing, you stop yom' ears, you stiffen your necks, you harden your hearts, and break our hearts, and send us back to God with gi'oans, to tell him that we haA'e done his message, but can do no good, nor scarcely get a sober hearing. Oh that our eyes were as a fountain of tears, that we might lament our ignor- ant, careless people, that have Christ before them, and par- don, and life, and heaven before them, and have not hearts to know and value them ! that might have Christ, and gi-ace, and glon-, as well as others, if it were not for theu- wiHul neghgence and contempt ! Oh that the Lord would, fill our hearts with more compassion to these miserable souls, that we might cast ourselves even at their feet, and follow them to their houses, and speak to them with our bitter tears. For long have we preached to many of them, as m vain : we study plaumess to make them understand, and many of them will not understand us : we study serious, piercing words to make them feel, but they will not feci. PREFACK.. 47 If the greatest matters would work with them, we should awake them. If the sweetest things would work, we should entice them, and win their hearts. If the most dreadful things would work, we should at least affiight them from their Avickedness. If truth and sincerity would take vnth. them, we should soon convince them. If the God that made them, and the Christ that bought them, might be heard, the case would soon be altered with them. If Scriptiu-e might be heard, we should soon prevail. K reason, even the best and strongest reason, might be heard, we should not doubt but we should speedily comince them. If experience might be heard, and even their own experience, and the experi- ence of all the world, the matter might be mended. Yea, if the conscience within them might be heard, the case would be better -with them than it is. But if nothing can be heard, what then shall we do for them ? K the dread- ful God of heaven be sUghted, who then shall be regarded ? If the inestimable love and blood of a Redeemer be made light of, what then shall be valued ? If heaven have no desirable glory Avith them, and everlasting joys be worth no- thing ; if they can jest at hell, and dance about a bottom- less pit, and play with the consuming fire, and that when God and man do warn them of it ; what shall we do for such souls as these ? Once more, in the name of the God of heaven, I shall do the message to you which he hath commanded us, and leave it in these standing lines to convert you or condenm you ; to change you, or rise up in judgment agamst you, and to be a %ritness to your faces, that once you had a serious call to turn. Hear, all you that are the drudges of the world, and the sen'ants of flesh and Satan ; that spend yom^ days in looking after prosperity on earth, and di'own your con- sciences in drinking, and gluttony, and idleness, and fooHsh sports, and know ) our sin, and yet will sin, as if you set God at defiance, and bid him do his worst, and spare not. Hearken, all you that mind not God, and have no heart to holy things, and feel no savour in the word or worship of the Lord, or in the thoughts or mention of eternal life ; 48 PREFACE. that are careless of your immortal souls, and never bestow- ed one hour in inquiring what case they are in, whether sanctified or unsanctified, and whether you are ready to ap- pear before the Lord ! Hearken, all you that by sinning in the light, have sinned yourselves into atheism and infidelity, and do not beheve the word of God. " He that hath an ear to hear, let him hear" the gracious and yet dreadful call of God ! His eye is all this while upon you, your sins are registered, and you shall surely hear of them again ; God keepeth the book now, and he mil mite it upon your consciences with his terrors ; and then you also shall keep it yourselves. O sinners ! that you but knew what you are doing ! and whom you are all this while offending ! The sun itself is darkness before the glory of that Majesty which you daily abuse and carelessly provoke. The sinning angels were not able to stand before him, but were cast down to be tormented with devils. And dare such silly worms as you so carelessly offend, and set yourselves against your Maker ? O that you did but a little know what a case that wretched soul is in, that hath engaged the H\ing God against him ! The word of his mouth that made thee can unmake thee ; a froAvn of his face will cut thee off, and cast thee out into utter darkness : how eager are the devils to be doing with thee that have tempted thee, and do but wait for the word from God to take and use thee as their own ! And then in a moment thou Avilt be in hell. If God be against thee, all things are against thee. This world is but thy prison for all that thou so lovest it : thou art but reserved in it to the day of wrath. Job xxi. 30. The Judge is coming, thy soul is even going : yea, a little while and thy friends shall say of thee, He is dead ; and thou shalt see the things that thou dost now despise, and feel what now thou wilt not beheve. Death will bring such an argument as thou canst not answer ; an argument that shall effectually confute thy cavils against the word and ways of God, and all thy self-conceited dotages : and then how soon wUl thy mind be changed ! Then be an unbehever if thou canst ! Stand then to all thy Ibrmer words which thou wast wont to y"' PREFACE. 49 utter afrainst the Scriptures, or against a holy and heavenly life ! Make good that cause then before the Lord, which thou wast wont to plead against thy teachers, and against the people that feared God. Then stand to thy old opi- nions, and contemptuous thoughts of the dihgence of the saints. Make ready now thy strongest reasons, and stand up then before the Judge, and plead Hke a man, for thy fleshly, thy worldly, and ungodly life ; but know that thou must have one to plead with thee, that will not be outfaced by thee, nor so easily put off as we thy fellow-creatures. O poor deceived, wretched soul ! there is nothing but a slender veil of flesh betwixt thee and that amazing sight, which will quickly silence thee and turn thy tune, and make thee of another mind ! As soon as death has drawn this curtain, thou shalt see that which will quickly leave thee speechless. And how quickly will that day and hour come ! When thou hast had but a few more merry hours, and but a few more pleasant draughts and morsels, and a little more of the honours and riches of the world, thy portion will be spent, and thy pleasures ended, and all is then gone that thou set- test thy heart upon ; of all that thou soldest thy Saviour and salvation for, there is nothing left but the heavy reckon- ing. As a thief that sits merrily spending the money in an ale-house which he hath stolen, when men are riding in post haste to apprehend him ; so it is with you : while you are drowned in cares or fleshly pleasures, and making merry with your own shame, death is coming in post haste to seize uj)on you, and carry your souls to such a place and state, as now you little know or think of. Suppose Avhen you are bold and busy in your sin, that a messenger were but com- ing post from London to apprehend you, and take away your life ; though you saw him not, yet if you Icnew of his coming it would mar your mirth, and you would be think- ing of the haste he makes, and hearkening when he knock- eth at your door. Oh that ye could but see what haste death makes, though yet it hath not overtaken you ! No post so swift ! No messenger more sure ! As sure as the sun wUl be with you in the morning, though it hath many D 50 PREFACE. thousand and hundred thousand miles to go in the night, so sure will death be quickly mth you ; and then where is your sport and pleasure ? Then will you jest and brave it out ? Then will you jeer at them that warned you ? Then is it better to be a believing saint, or a sensual worldling ? And then whose shall all those things be that you have gathered? Luke xii. 19-21. Do you not observe that days and weeks are quickly gone, and nights and mornings come apace, and speedily succeed each other ? You sleep, but " your damnation slumbereth not;" you Hnger, "but yoiu* judgment this long time lingereth not," 2 Pet. ii. 3-5; to which you are reserved for punishment, 2 Pet. ii. 8, 9. " Oh that you were ■wise to understand this, and that you did consider your latter end ! " Deut. xxxii. 20. " He that hath an ear to hear, let him hear " the call of God in this day of his salvation. O careless sinners, that you did but know the love that you unthankfully neglect, and the preciousness of the blood of Christ wliich you despise ! Oh that you did but know the riches of the gospel ! Oh that you did but know a little the certainty, and the glory, and blessedness of that ever- lastmg Hfe, which now you will not set your hearts upon, nor be persuaded first and diligently to seek ! Heb. xi. 6 ; xii. 28 ; Matt. \i. 13. Did you but know, the endless life Avith God which }'0U now neglect, how quickly would you cast away yom- sin ! how quickly would you change your miiid and life, your course and company, and tm-n the streams of your affections, and lay out yom- care- another way ! how resolutely would you scorn to yield to such temptations as now deceive you, and carry you away ! how zealously would you bestir yourselves for that most blessed life ! how earnest would you be with God in prayer ! hoAv diligent in hearing, learning, and inqumng ! how serious in meditating on the laws of God ! Psal. i, 2. how fearful of sinning in thought, word, or deed ! and how carefid to please God and grow m hohness ! Oh what a changed people you would be ! And why should not the certain word of God be believed, and prevail with you, which openeth to you PREFACE. 51 these glorious and eternal tilings? Yea, let me tell you, that even here upon earth, you little know the difference between the life you refuse and the life you choose. The sanctified are conversing with God, when you scarce dare think of him, and when you are conversing but wdth earth and flesh ; their conversation is in heaven, when you are utter strangers to it, and your beUy is your god, and you are minduig earthly tilings, Phil. iii. 18-20. They are seek- ing after the face of God, when you seek for nothing higher than this world. They are busily laying out for an endless life, where they shall be equal with the angels, Luke xx. 36, when you are taken up with a shadow, and a transitory thing of nought. How low and base is yom* earthly, fleshly, sin- ful life, in comparison of the noble, spmtual life of true be- lievers ! Many a time have I looked on such men -vvith grief and pity, to see them trudge about the world, and spend their Hves, care, and labour, for nothuig but a Httle food and raiment, or a little fading pelf, or fleshly pleasures, or empty honours, as if they had no higher thing to mind. What difference is there between the hves of these men, and of the beasts that perish, that spend their tune in working, and eating, and living, but that they may Kve ? They taste not of the inward heavenly pleasures which believers taste and live upon. I had rather have a little of their comfort, Avliich the forethoughts of their heavenly mlieritance doth afford them, though I had all their scorn and suffermgs with it, than to have all your pleasures and treacherous prosperi- ties ; I would not have one of your secret gripes and pangs of conscience, dark and di'eadful thoughts of death and the hfe to come, for all that ever the world hath done for you, or aU that you should reasonably hope that it slioidd do. If I were in your unconverted, carnal state, and knew but Avhat I know, beheved but what I now believe, methinks my life would be a foretaste of hell. How oft should I be thinking of the terrors of the Lord, and of the dismal day that is hasting on ! Sure death and heU would be still before me. I should tliink of them by day, and dream of them by uight ; I should Ue down in fear, and rise in terror, and Hve 52 PREFACE. in anguish, lest death should come before I was converted : I shoidd have small felicity in any thing that I possessed, and little pleasure in any company, and little joy in any thing in the world, as|long as I knew myself to be under the curse and >vrath of God : I should still be afraid of hearing that voice, " Thou fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee," Luke xii. 20. And that fearful sentence would be written upon my conscience, " Verily there is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked," Isa. xlviii. 22 ; hdi. 21. O poor shmers ! it is a more jo}-ful life than this that you might live, if you were but willing, but truly mlling to hearken to Christ, and to come home to God. You might then draw near to God with boldness, and call him your Father, and comfortably trust him with your souls and bodies. If you look upon promises, you may say, They are aU mine ; if upon the curse, you may say, From this I am delivered. ^Vhen you read the law, you may see what you are saved from : when you read the gospel, you may see him that redeemed you, and see the course of his love, and holy Hfe, and sufferings, and trace him in his temptations, tears, and blood, in the work of your salvation. You may see death conquered, and heaven opened, and your resurrection and glorification provided for, in the resurrection and glorification of yoiu- Lord. If you look on the saints, you may say. They are my brethren and companions. If on' the unsanctified, you may rejoice to think that you are saved from that state. If you look upon the heavens, the sun, and moon, and stars innumerable, you may think and say, My Father's face is infinitely more glorious ; it is higher matters that he hath prepared for his saints. Yonder is but the outward court of heaven. The blessedness that he hath promised me, is so much higher, that flesh and blood cannot behold it. If you think of the grave, you may remember that the glori- fied Spirit, a living Head, and a loving Father, have all so near relation to your dust, that it cannot be forgotten or neglected ; . but will more certainly revive than the plants and flowers in the spring ; because the soul is still alive, that is the root of the body, and Christ is alive, that is the PREFACE. 53 root of both. Even death, which is the king of fears, may be remembered and entertamed with joy, as being the day of your deliverance from the remnants of sin and sorrow, and the day which you beUeved, and hoped, and waited for, when you shall see the blessed things which you have heard of, and shall find by present joyful experience, what it was to choose the better part, and be a sincere beHeving saint. AVhat say you, sirs ? is not this a more delightful life, to be assured of salvation, and ready to die, than to live as the ungodly, that have their hearts " overcharged Avith surfeit- ing and di'unkenness, and the cares of this life, and so that day comes upon them unawares ? " Luke xxi. 34, 36, INIight you not hve a comfortable life, if once you were made the heu's of heaven, and sure to be saved when you leave the world ? O look about you then, and think what you do, and cast not away such hopes as these for very nothing. The flesh and world can give you no such hopes or comforts. And besides all the misery that }'ou bring upon yourselves, you are the troublers of others as long as you are uncon- verted. You trouble magistrates to rule you by their laws. You trouble ministers, by resisting the hght and guidance which they olfer you ; your sin and misery is the greatest grief and trouble to them in the Avorld. You trouble the commonwealth, and draw the judgments of God upon us : it is you that most disturb the holy peace and order of the churches, and hinder our union and reformation, and are the shame and trouble of the churches where you intrude, and of all the places where you are. Ah, Lord ! how heavy and sad a case is this, that even in England, where the gos- pel doth abound above any other nation in the world ; Avhere teaching is so plain and common, and all the helps we can desire are at hand ; when the sword hath been hewing us, and judgment hath run as a fire through the land ; when deHverances have relieved us, and so many admirable mer- cies have engaged us to God, and to the gospel, and to a holy life ; that yet after all this our cities, and towns, and counties, shall abound with multitudes of unsanctified men, and swarm with so much sensuaHty, as everywhere to our PREFACE. grief we see. One would have tlionglit, that after all this light, and all this experience, and all these judgments and mercies of God, the people of tliis nation should have joined together, as one man, to tm-n to the Lord ; and should have come to their godly teachers, and lamented all tlieir former sins, and desired them to join with them in puLlie humiliation to confess their sins openly, and beg pardon ot them fi'om the Lord, and should have craved instruction for the time to come, and be glad to be ruled by the Spirit within, and the ministers of Clmst without, according to the word of God. One would think, that after such reason and scripture evidence as they hear, and after all these means and mercies, there should not be an ungodly person left among us, or a worldling, or a drunkard, or a hater of re- formation, or an enemy to holiness, be found in all our towns or counties. K we be not all agreed about some ceremonies or forms of government, one would think that, before this, we should have been all agreed to live a holy and heavenly life, in obedience to God, his word and minis- ters, and in love and peace with one another. But, alas ! how far are our people from this course ! ISIost of them, in most places, do set their hearts on earthly things, and seek not first the kingdom of God, and the righteousness thereof, but look at holiness as a needless thing : their families are prayerless, or else a few heartless, lifeless words must serve instead of hearty, fervent, daily pra}-er ; their children are not taught the knowledge of Christ, and the covenant of grace, nor brought up in the nurture of the Lord, though they falsely promised tliis in their baptism. They instruct not their sei-wants in the matters of salvation ; but so then- work be done they care not. There are more oaths, and curses, and ribald and raihng speeches in their families, than gracious words that tend to edification. How feAv are the families that fear the Lord, and inquire after his word and ministers, how they should live, and what they should do ; and are willing to be taught and nded, and that heartily look after everlasting life ! And those few that God hath made so happy, are commonly the by-word of their neigh- PREFACE. 55 bours ; when we see some live in drunkenness, and some in pride and worldliness, and most of tlicm have httle care of their salvation, though the cause be gross, and past all con- troversy, yet will they hardly be convinced of their misery, {md more hardly recovered and refonned ; but when we have done all that we are able, to save them from their sins, we leave them, most of them, as we find them. And if, according to the law of God, we cast them out of the communion of the church, when they have obstinately re- jected all our admonitions, they rage at us as if we were their enemies, and their hearts arc filled with malice against us, and they will sooner set themselves against the Lord, and his laws, and church, and ministers, than against their deadly sins. This is the doleful case of England ; we have magistrates that countenance the ways of godliness, and a happy opportunity for unity and reformation is before us ; and faithful ministers long to see the right ordering of the church, and of the ordinances of God ; but the power of sin in our people doth frustrate almost all. Nowhere almost can a faithftil mmister set up the unquestionable discipline of Christ, or put back the most scandalous, impenitent sinners from the communion of the church, and participation of the sacrament, but the most of the people rail at them, and re- vile them ; as if these ignorant, careless souls were wiser than their teachers, or than God himself ; and fitter to rule the church than they. And thus in the day of our visita- tion, when God calls upon us to reform his chm-ch, though magistrates seem willing, and faithful ministers are willing, yet are the multitude of the people still unwilling ; and sin hath so blinded them, and hardened t\ie\r hearts, that even in these days of light and grace, they are the obstinate ene- mies of light and grace, and will not be brought by the calls of God to see their folly, and know what is for their good. Oh that the people of England knew, " at least m this their day, the things that belong unto their peace, before they are hid from their eyes !" Luke xix. 42. O foohsh and miser- able souls ! Gal. iii. 1, who hath bewitched your minds into such madness, and your hearts into such deadness, that you 66 PEEFACE should be such mortal enemies to yoiu-selve^, and go on so obstinately towards damnation, that neither the word of God nor the persuasions of men can change your minds, or hold yom- hands, or stop you till you are past remedy? Well, sinner ! tliis life %vill not last always ; this patience will not wait upon you still. Do not think that you shall abuse your Maker and Redeemer, aad serve his enemies, and debase yom- souls, and trouble the world, and wrong the church, and reproach the godly, and grieve yom* teachers, and hin- der reformation, and all this upon j&'ee cost. You know not yet what this must cost you, but } ou must shortly know, Avhen the righteous God shall take you in hand, who will handle you in another manner than the sharpest magistrates or the plainest dealing pastors did, miless you prevent the everlasting torments by a sound conversion, and a speedy obeying the call of God. " He that hath an ear to hear, let him hear," while mercy hath a voice to call. One desperate objection (which I have touched in the sequel, but -with too much bre^ity) I find sticks close to the hearts of many ungodly men. They think that God doth not so much care what men think, or say, or do, as we per- suade them ; and therefore they care so little themselves. For the com-iucing of such atheistical men as these, I shall propound the following questions : — 1. Dost thou think God careth whether thou be a man or not ? K not, who made thee, and preserved thee ? If he do, then sure he careth whether thou behave thyself as a man. Xo man is so foolish as to make any instrument, build a house, or a sliip, and not care, when he hath done, whether it be good for the use he made it. Do not for shame, tlien, impute such folly to the God of wisdom, as if he made so noble a creatm-e as man, and endowed him with such noble faculties, and all for nothing, and careth not what be- cometh of liim when he hath done. ^^Tiy should God give thee a mind that can know him, and a heait that can love him, when he careth not whether thou know him, and love him, or not ? Do not you see, that, in the course of nature, every thing is fitted to its use? The beasts know not God, PREFACE. 57 nor are capable of lo\ing him, because tbey were made for no such use ; but thy capacity shews that thou wast made for God, and for a life to come. 2. Dost thou think that God is everywhere present, and infinite, and all-sufficient ? If not, thou dost not beheve that he is God ; and it is unreasonable to imagine, that God hath made a world that is greater, and more extensive or comprehensive, than himself ! For none can communicate more than he hath. But if thou art forced to confess that God is ever}^here, and as sufficient for every single man, as if he had never another creature to regard, thou must needs confess then that he is not careless of the hearts and ways of the sons of men ; for they are things that are still before his eyes. It is base and blasphemous thoughts of God, as if he were Hmited, absent, or insufficient, that makes men thmk him so regardless of their hearts and ways. 3. Dost thou think that God careth what becomes of thy body ? whether thou be sick or well ? whether thou live or die ? If not, then how camest thou by thy life, and health, and mercies ? If tliey came fi*om any other fountain, tell us from whence. Is it not to God that thou prayest for thy life and health ? Darest thou say to him, I -will not depend upon thee ? I Avill not be beholden to thee for the life and mercies of another day? If so, then thou art a blind atheist. But if thou thinkest he cares for thy body, canst thou think he cares not more for thy soul ? If he must regard to furnish thee with mercies, he will surely have a regard whether thou love and live to him that gave them. 4. Dost thou beheve that God is the Governor of the world, or not ? If not, then there can be no rightful go- vernment. For as no justice of peace can have a power, but from the sovereigii ; so no sovereign can have power, but from God ; nor be a lawful governor, but under him : and then all the world would be turned into confusion. But if thou must needs confess that God is the Governor of the world, what an unwise, unrighteous governor wouldst thou make him, if thou tliiiikest that he regardeth not the 58 PREFACE. hearts and ways of those whom he doth govern ! This still is but to deny hini to be God 5. K God do not care so much what is in our hearts, or what we do, why then should he make a law for our hearts, and words, and ways ? Would he command us that which he doth not care for ? Would he so strictly forbid sin, if he were indifferent whether we sin or not ? 'VA'ould he promise eternal life to the holy and obedient, if he cared not whether we be holy and obedient or no? Would he threaten hell to all that are ungodly, if he cared not whether we are godly or not ? Darest thou say, that the almighty, holy God is fain to rule the world by a He, and to deceive men into obedience? Yea, the xery law of nature itself doth contaui not only precepts of our duty, but the hopes and fears of the life to come, without which the world could not be governed ; and certainly they are no deceits, by wliich an infinite wisdom, and power, and good- ness, doth govern the world. 6. If God did not much regard our hearts and Hves, why doth he make all the world to be our servants ? Doth he give us the smi, and moon, and stars, the earth, and all creatm-es to attend us, and serve us with their Hves and \drtues, and yet doth he not care for om- hearts or service ? This is as foolish as to say, that he hath made aU the world in vain, and careth not for it, now he hath made it. 7. If he cared not for the fi'ame of our hearts and Hves, he would not have sent his Son to redeem us, and to cleanse us from iniquity, and sanctify us a peculiar people to him- self, Tit. ii. 14. Surely the price that was paid for sinners, and the wonderful design of God in our redemption, doth shew that he makes not Hght of sin, and that he is wonder- fliUy in love vnth. holiness. 8. If God did not regard our hearts and Hves, he would not have made it the office of his ministers to caU us daily to repentance and a holy life ; nor commanded them to make such a stu' with sinners to win them unto God : he would not have appointed all liis ordinances, pubHc and private, PREFACE. 59 also to this end. Doth God command all this ado for a thing he regards not ? 9. ISTor would he punish the world with hell hereafter, or so many dreadful judgments here, as thousands feel, if he cared not what they think or do. Methinks, men that are so often groaning under his rod, should feel that he looks after their hearts and ways. 10. And how can the Holy Ghost be our Sanctifier, if God be so indifferent, whether we be clean or unclean V Dare you think that the Holy Ghost doth take upon hini a needless work? 11. Methinks you might perceive, even in the malice of the tempter, that God is holy, and hateth iniquity ; and his word is true, that telleth us of the eternal punishment of sin. The Scripture tells us of the angels' fall, and that many of them are become de-vils by their sin, and are mali- cious enemies of man's salvation. And do you not easily perceive it to be true ? How came they else to be such importunate tempters of men, which we feel, alas ! by too much experience? Or if this e\'idence be not palpable enough to convince the infidel ; how come they to make so many bargains with conjurers and witches, to draw them from God and salvation, as they have done? How come they to appear in terrible shapes to so many as they have done, and still upon designs that declare their own dejected, base condition, and their enmity to God and man, and their eager desii'e to engage men in a way of sin ? If any infidel win not believe that really there have been witches and ap- paritions, and consequently that there are devils, who arfc miserable, malicious spirits, who by sin are cast out of the favour of God, and would draw men into their miserable case ; let them come and reason the case with me, and I shall quickly tell them of so many sure and undeniable in- stances, and give them so much proof of the truth of it, as shall leave them nothing to say against it, unless they will still say, We wUl not believe : yea, so much, as that I wiU not be beholden to the vilest atheist or infidel to believe it, 60 PREFACE. if he will not quite renounce ins reason, but give it leave to see the light. 12. Lastly, K }'et you think that God (the Sovereign Ruler of the world, that is everj where present, and pre- serveth all) doth care so little what men are, or what they do, whether they are holy or unholy, obedient or disobe- dient to his laws ; then metliinks that you yourselves, and all the rest of your fellow-creatures, should little care. Two questions therefore I must propound to you : 1. Do not you care what men say of you, or do to you? Are you contented that men slander you, and abuse you, or set your houses or towns on fire, or destroy your cattle, or wives or children, and imprison, wound, or kill yourselves ? If you will make a great matter what men say or do against you, can you be so mad (for it is no better) as to think that the omnipotent, holy God, should little regard what is said or done against himself, and against his servants, and that by such silly worms as men, that are his workmanship ? Did not selfishness make you blind and partial, you would know that one sin against God deserves more punishment than ten thousand thousand times as much against such silly things as you. Do you make no matter of difference between a bad servant and a good ? an obedient and dis- obedient child ? a son that will lay down his life for you, and a son that longs for your death, that he may have your land? between a faithful friend and a deadly enemy? If you do not, you are not men, but something else in human shape. If you do, then you are somewhat worse than men, if yet you would have the blessed God to make no great difference between those that love him above all the world, and those that regard him not ; between the holy and un- holy soul. And, 2. I would ask you whether you would have the rulers of the world to take care what men say or do, or would you not ? If not, then you would have all the world turned loose, and you would have every man that is poorer than you, have leave to rob you ; and every man that luiteth PEEPACE. 61 you, have leave to beat or kill you ; and every man that liketh your house, or lands, or goods, or cattle, to have leave to take them from you ; and every man defile your wives or daughters, that hath a mind to it ? And so we should see whither it is that infidelity leads men. But if you like not this, then you are most unreasonable, if you would have magistrates to be regardful of men's actions, and not God ; if magistrates must hang men for wronging you, and tlie eternal Mnjesty must not punish them for wronging him, and breaking his laws, which is infinitely a greater matter. As if you would have a constable punish men, and the king or judge to have no regard of it ; for kings are under God, as constables are under kings, and a thousandfold lower. The truth is, wicked men are fallen so far fi:'om God to themselves, that they are as gods to themselves in their own esteem, and besides themselves they know no God ; and therefore any -wrong that is done against them, or any good that is done for them, they would have regarded ; but tbe wrong and disobedience that is against God, they would have nothing made of it. And they have such narrow, blasphe- mous thoughts of God, as if he were a finite creature like themselves, that can be but in one place at once, that makes them so blaspheme his providence, and think he minds no good or evil, and will not regard the godly, or punish the ungodly, but were like the idols of the heathen, that have eyes and see not, ears and hear not, and hands without an executive power. But when the memorial book of God is opened, which is written for them that fear the Lord, and think upon his name ; and when the liord shall say of them, " These are mine," as he is making up his jewels, and spareth them as a man spareth his son that serveth him ; then shall these infidels return to their wits, and the righte- ous shall return from their fears and sufferings, and shall decern between the righteous and the wicked, between those that serve God and those that serve him not, Mai. ui. 16-18. Another objection I find most common in the mouths of the ungodly, especially of late years ; they say. We can do nothing without God ; we cannot have grace if God will not 02 PREFACE. give it us ; and if he will, we shall quickly turn : if he have not predestinated us, and wiH not turn us, how can we turn ourselves or be saved ? It is not in him that ^vills, or in him that runs. And thus they think they arc excused. I have answered this formerly, and m this book ; but let me now say this much. 1. Though you cannot cure yom-selves, you can hurt and poison yourselves : it is God that must sanctify your hearts ; but who corrupted them ? Will you wilfully take poison, because you cannot cure yourselves ? Methinks you should the more forbear it : } ou should the more take heed of sinning, if you cannot mend what sm doth mar. 2. Though you cannot be converted without the special grace of God, yet you must know, that God giveth his gi'ace in the use of his holy means which he hath appointed to that end ; and common grace may enable you to forbear your gross sinning, as to the outward act, and to use those means. Can you truly say that you do as much as you are able to do ? Are you not able to go by an ale- house door, or to shut your mouths and keep out the diink? or to forbear the company that harden eth you to sin ? Arc you not able to go hear the word, and think of what you heard when you come home? and to consider vnth. your- selves of yoiu- own condition, and of everlasting things? Are you not able to read good books fi-om day to day, at least on the Lord's day, and to converse vnth. those that fear the Lord ? You cannot say that you have done what you are able. 3. And therefore you must know that you can forfeit the grace and help of God by your Avihul sinrdng or negli- gence, though you cannot, -R-ithout grace, turn to God. If you will not do what you can, it is just with God to deny you that grace by which you might do more. 4. And for God's decrees, you must know that they separate not the end and means, but tie them together. God never decreed to save any but the sanctified, nor to damn any but the unsanctified. God doth as truly decree fi'om everlasting whether your land this year shall be barren or fi'uitful, and just how long you shall Hve in the world, as he hath decreed whether you shall be saved or not. And yet you would think PREFACE. 63 that man but a fool that would forbear ploughing and sow- ing, and say, If God have decreed that my gi'ound shall bear corn, it will bear whether I plough and sow or not. If God have decreed that I shall Hve, I shall hve whether I eat or not ; but if he have not, it is not eating will keep me alive. Do you know how to answer such a man, or do you not ? Jf you do, then you know how to answer your- selves ; for the case is alike : God's decree is as peremptory about your bodies as your souls. If you do not, then try first these conclusions upon your bodies, before you venture to try them on your souls ; see first whether God -will keep you alive "s^^thout food or raiment, and whether he will give you corn -without tillage and labom*, and whether he will bring you to yom' journey's end without your travel or car- riage ; and if you speed well in this, then try whether he will bring you to heaven without your diligent use of means, and sit down and say, We cannot sanctify ourselves. And for the point of fi-ee-wiU, which you harp so long upon, di\ines are not so much cUsagreed about it as you imagine. Augustine as weU as Pelagius, Calvin as well as Arminius, the Dominicans as well as the Jesuits, all do generally mamtain, that man hath fi-ee-will. The orthodox say, that fi-ee-will is corrupted and disposed to oil. Epi- phanius condemned Origen for sajing, that man had lost the image of God, and makes it a point of heresy. And yet one may truly say, That man hath lost God's image ; and another may truly say. That he hath not lost it. For there is a twofold image of God in man : the one is natural, and that is our reason and fi-ee-will, and this is not lost ; the other is quahtative and ethical, and this is our hohness, and this is lost, and by grace restored. No man of brains denieth, that a man hath a ^dll that is natm-aUy fi-ee ; it is fi-ee from -vdolence, and it is a self-determining principle ; but it is not fi-ee fi'om caoI dispositions. It is habitually averse to God and holiness, and inchned to earthly, fleshly things ; it is enslaved by a sinful bias. Tliis, no man, metliinks, that is a Christian, should deny ; and of the aged, I see not how an infidel can deny it. Alas, we easily confess to 4 64 PREFACE. ' you, that you liave not tliis spiritual, moral free-will, which is but your right inclination, and your habitual willingness itself. If you had a ynl\ that were freed from Avicked in- clinations, I had no need to write such books as these to persuade you to be -sriUing in a case which your own salva- tion Heth on. To the giief of our souls, we perceive, after all our preachings and persuasions, that the ungodly have not this spiritual free--vviU. But this is nothing but your willingness itself, and inclination to be willing ; and there- fore the want of it is so far from excusmg you, that the more you want it (that is, the more you are wilful in sin) the worse you are, and the sorer will be your pimishment. And oiu' preachuig and persuasions, and your hearing and consideraig, are the appointed means to get this moral power of freedom, that is, to make you tmly wiUing. Well, sirs. I have but three requests to you. and I have done : First, That you will seriously read over this small treatise (and if you have such that need it in yoiu* tamiUes. that } ou read it over and over to them : and if those that fear God would go now and then to their ignorant neighbours, and read this or some other book to them of this subject, they might be a means of winmng of souls.) If we cannot en- treat so small a labour of men for their own salvation, as to read such short instructions as these, they set little by them- selves, and will most justly perish. Secondly, ^Tien you have read over tliis book, I would entreat you to go alone, and ponder a little what you have read, and bethink you, as in the sight of God, whether it be not true, and do not nearly touch your souls, and whether it be not time for you to look about you : and I also entreat that you will fall upon your knees and beseech the Lord that he will open your eyes to understand the truth, and turn yom- hearts to the love of God, and beg of him all that saving grace, that you have so long neglected, and foUow it on from day to day, till your heai*ts be changed ; and -vvithal, that you will go to yom* pastoi^s (that ai'e set over you, to take care of the health and safety of your souls, as physicians do for the health of your bodies), and desire them to direct you what com-se to PREFACE. 65 take, and acquaint them Avith yotir spiritual estate, that you may have the benefit of their ad\dce and ministerial help. Or if you have not a faithful pastor at home, make use of some other in so great a need. Thirdly, When by reading, con- sideration, prayer, and ministerial ad\-ice, you are once ac- quainted with your sin and misery, with yom' duty and re- med}', delay not, but presently forsake your sinful company and courses, and turn unto God, and obey his call, and as you love your souls, take heed that you go not on against so loud a call of God, and against your own knowledge and conscience, lest it go worse with you in the day of judg- ment than Avith Sodom and Gomon^ah. Inquire of God, as a man that is willing to know the truth, and not be a wil- ful cheater of his soul. Search the holy Scripture daily, and ice Avhether these things be so or not ; try impartially whether it be safer to trust heaven or earth ; and whether it be better to follow God or man, the Spirit or the flesh ; and better to live in holiness or sin ; and whether an un- sanctified estate be safe for you to abide in one day longer ; and when you have found out which is best, resolve accord- ingly, and make your choice without any more ado. If you will be true to your own souls, and do not love everlasting torments, I beseech you, as from the Lord, that you will but take this reasonable advice. O what happy towns and countries, and what a happy nation might we have, if we could but persuade our neighbours to agree to such a ne- cessary motion ! What jo}'ful men Avould all faithful minis- ters be, if they could but see their people truly heavenly and holy ! This would be the unity, the peace, the safety, the glory of oiu* churches, the happiness of our neighbours, and the comfort of our souls. Then how comfortable should we preach absolution and peace to you, and deliver the sacraments, which are the seals of peace, to you. And Avith Avhat loA^e and joy might we live among you ; at yom* death- bed, hoAV boldly might we comfort, and encourage your de- parting souls ; and at your burial, how comfortably might we leave you in the grave, in expectation to meet your souls in heaven, and to see your bodies raised to that glory. E 66 PREFACE. But if still the most of you will go on in a careless, ig- norant, fleshly, worldly, or unholy life ; and all our desires and laboui*s cannot so far prevail as to keep you from the ■wilflil damning of yoiu'^selves ; we must then imitate our Lord, who delighteth himself in those few that are his jewels, and the little flock that shall receive the kingdom, when the most shall reap the miseiy which they sowed. In nature excellent thiags ai'c few. The world hath not many suns or moons ; it is but a Httle of the earth that is gold or silver ; piinces and nobles are but a small part of the sons of men. And it is no gi-eat number that are learned, judi- cious, or wise, here in this world. And therefore if the gate being strait, and the way narrow, there be but few that find salvation, yet God ■will have his glor^' and pleasure in those few. And when Chiist '* shall come with his mighty angels in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and obey not the gospel of om* Lord Jesus Christ, his coming will be glorified in his saints, and admired in all true behevers," 2 Thess. i. 7-10. And for the rest, as God the Father vouchsafed to create them, and God the Son disdained not to bear the penalt}- of theii' sins upon the cross ; and did not judge such suSer- ings vain, though he knew that by refusing the sanctitica- tion of the Holy Ghost, they would finally destroy them- selves ; so we that are his miuistei"^, though these be not gathered ; judge not our labour wholly lost. See Isa. xlix. 5. Eeader, I have done with thee (when thou hast perused this book) ; but sm hath not yet done with thee (even those that thou thoughtest had been forgotten long ago), and Satan hath not yet done with thee (though now he be out of sight), and God hath not yet done with thee, because thou wilt not be persuaded to have done with deadly, reign- ing sin. I have written thee this persuasive, as one that is going into another world, where the things are seen that I here speak of, and as one that knoweth thou must shortly be there th^-self. As ever thou woultlst meet me with com- fort before the Lord that made us ; as ever thou wilt PREFACE. 67 escape the everlasting plagues prepared for the final ne- glecters of salvation, and for all that are not sanctified by the Holy Ghost, and love not the communion of the saints, as members of the holy catholic church ; and as ever thou liopest to see the face of Christ the Judge, and of the majesty of the Father, with peace and comfort, to be re- ceived into glory, when thou art tm-ned naked out of this world ; I beseech thee, I charge thee, to hear and obey the call of God, and resolvedly to tm-n, that thou mayst live. But if thou vnlt not, even when thou hast no true reason for it, but because thou wilt not ; I summon thee, answer for it before the Lord, and requu'e thee there to bear me wit- ness I gave thee wariung, and that thou wert not condemned for want of a call to tm-n and live, but because thou wouldst not beUeve it, and obey it ; which also must be the testi- mony of thy serious monitor. KICHARD BAXTER. CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED TO TURN AND LIVE. " Say tiiito them, as I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked ; but that the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; ^ov why will ye die. O house of Israel?" — Ezekiel xxxiii. 11. It hath been the astonishing wonder of many a man, as well as me, to read in the holy Scripture, how few will be saved, and that the greatest part even of those that are called, will be everlastingly shut out of the kingdom of heaven, and tormented with the de\ils in eternal fire. Infidels believe not this when the}' read it, and therefore must hereafter feel it. Those that do believe it, are forced to cry out with Paul, " Oh the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and know- ledge of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out !" Rom. xi. 13. But nature itself doth teach us all, to lay the blame of evil works upon the doers ; and therefore when we see any heinous thing done, a principle of justice doth provoke us to inquire after him that did it, that the evil of the work may return the evil of shame upon the author. If we saw a man killed and cut in pieces by the way, we should presently ask. Oh ! who did this cruel deed ? If the town Avere wilfully set on fire, you wovild ask, What wicked wi'etch did this? So when we read that the most will be fire-brands of hell for ever, we must needs think with ourselves, how comes this to pass ? And whom doth it belong 70 A CALL TO THE UNCOXVERTED. to ? who is it that is so cruel as to be the cause of such a thing as this ? And we can meet with few that will own the guilt. It is indeed confessed by all, that Satan is the cause, but that doth not resolve the doubt, because he is not the piincipal cause. He doth not force men to sin, but tempt them to it, and leaves it to their own wills, whether they will do it or not. He doth not earn- men to an ale-house, and force open their mouths, and pour in the drink ; nor doth he hold them that they camiot go to God's serv-ice, nor doth he force their hearts from holy thoughts. It heth, therefore, between God himself, and the siimer: one of them must needs be the principal cause of aU this misery, which- ever it is ; for there is no other to cast it upon. And God disclaimeth it ; he will not take it upon him. And the wicked disclaim it usually, and they will not take it upon them ; and this is the controversy" that is here managed in the text. The Lord complaineth of the people, and the people think it belongeth to God : the same controversy is handled in chap, xviii. where, ver. 25, they plainly say, " that the way of the Lord is not equal.'' And God saith, " It is/ their ways that ai-e not equal.'' So here they say, ver. 19, "If our transgressions and our sins be upon us, ;md we pine away in them, how shall we then Hve ? "' As if they should say, If we must die and be miserable, how can we help it ? as if it belonged not to them, but God. But God, m my text, doth clear liiuiself of it, and ti lleth them how they may help it if they will, and pci^suadeth them to use the means : and if they wUl not be persuaded, he lets them know that it be- longeth to themselves ; and if this -vvill not satisty them, he ■v\-iU not therefore forbeai* to punish them. It is he that will be their Judge, and he will judge them accorduig to their ways : they are no judges of him, or of themselves, as wanting authority, wisdom, and impaitiality ; nor is it their cavilling and quarrelling with God, that shall serve their turn, or save them from the execution of justice which they miunnur at. Hie words of this verse contain, 1. God's piu-gation or clearing of himself from the blame of their destruction. This A CALL TO Tnk UNCONVERTED. 71 he dotli, not by disowning his law, that the " wicked shall die nor by disowning his judgments and execution accord- ing to that law, or by giving them any hope that the law shall not be executed , but by professing that it is not their death that he takes pleasure in, but their returning rather, that they may live. And this he confii-meth to them by his oath. 2. An express exhortation to the wicked to return ; where- in God doth not only command, but persuade and conde- scend also to reason the case with them, Why will they die ? The du-ect end of this exhortation is, that they may turn and live. The secondary, or reserved ends, upon supposition that this is not attained, are these two : First, To couvmce them by the means which he used, that it belongeth not to God if they be miserable. Secondly, To convince them from their manifest wilfulness, in rejecting all his commands and persuasions, that it belongeth to themselves, and they die even because they Avill die. The substance of the text doth lie in these observ ations following. Doct. I. It is the unchangeable law of God, that wicked men must turn or die. Doct. II. It is the promise of God, that the wicked shall live, if they will but turn. Doct. III. God takes pleasure in men's conversion and salvation, but not in their death or damnation ; he had rather they would return and live, than go on and die. Doct. IV. This is a most certam truth, which because God would not have men to question, he hath confu-mcd rt to them solemnly by his oath. Doct. V. The Lord doth redouble his commands and per- suasions to the wicked to turn. Doct VI. The Lord condescendeth to reason the case with them, and asketh the wicked, why they will die ? Doct. Vn. If after all this, the wicked will not return, it belongeth not to God tliat they perish, but to themselves : their own wilfulness is the cause of their damnation ; they therefore die because they will die. Having hdd the text open before your eyes hi these plam 72 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. propositions, I shall next speak somewhat of each of them in order, though very briefly. Doct. I. It is the unchangeable law of God, that wicked men must turn or die. If you will believe God, believe this. There is but one of these two ways for every wicked man, either conversion or damnation. I knoAv the wicked will hardly be persuad- ed, either of the truth or equity of this. No wonder if the guilty quarrel with the law. Few men are apt to believe that which they would not have to be true, and fewer would have that to be true, which they apprehend to be against them. But it is not quarrelHng with the law, or vAih the judge, that will save the malefactor : be- lieving and regarding the law might have prevented his death ; but denpng and accusing it, -will but hasten it. If it were not so, a hundred would bring their reason against the law, for one that would bring his reason to the law ; and men would rather choose to give their reasons why they should not be punished, than to hear the commands and reasons of their governors which require them to obey. The law was not made for you to judge, but that you might be ruled and judged by it. But if there be any so bhnd as to venture to question either the truth or justice of the law of God, I shall briefly give you that evidence of both, which, methinks, would satisfy a reasonable man. And first, if you doubt whether this be the word of God or not, besides a hundred other texts, you may be satisfied by these few : Verily, I say unto you. Except ye be converted, and be- come as little children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven," Matt, xviii. 3. " Verily, verily, I say unto thee. Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God," John iii. 3. ''If any man be in Christ he is a new creature : old things are passed away, behold all things are become new," 2 Cor. v. 17. " Ye have put ofi* the old man with his deeds, and have put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge, after the image of him that created him," Col. iii. 9, 10. " Without hohness no man shiill see God," Heb. xii. 14. "So then they that A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 73 are in the flesh cannot please God. Now if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his," Rom. \'iii. 8, 9. " For in Christ Jesus neither cu'cumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumcLsion, but a new creature," Gal. vi. 15. " Ac- cording unto his abundant grace, he hath begotten us again to a lively hope," 1 Pet. i. 3. " Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which Hveth and abideth for ever," ver. 23. " Wherefore laying aside all malice, and all guile, and hj'pocrisies, and cnvyings, and evil-speakings, as new-born babes desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby," 1 Pet. ii. 1, 2. The Avicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God," Psal. ix. 17. " And the Lord loveth the righteous ; but the wicked his soul hateth," Psal. xi. 4. As I need not stay to open these texts which are so plain, so I think I need not add any more of that multitude which speak the like. If thou be a man that dost believe the word of God, here is already enough to satisfy thee that the wicked must be converted or condemned. You are already brought so far, that you must cither confess that this is true, or say plainly, you will not beheve the word of God. And if once you be come to that last pass, there is but small hopes of you : look to yourselves as well as you can ; for it is like you will not be long out of hell. You would be ready to fly in the face of him that should give you the lie ; and yet dare you give the He to God ? But if you tell God plainly you will not believe huu, blame him not if he never warn you more, or if he forsake you, and give you up as hopeless : for to what pui-pose should he warn you, if you would not beheve him. Should he send an angel from heaven to you, it seems you would not be- heve, for an angel can speak but the word of God ; and if an angel should bring you any other gospel, you are not to receive it, but to hold him accursed. Gal. i. 8. And surely there is no angel to be believed before the Son of God, who came from the Father to bring us this doctrine. If he be not to be believed, then all the angels in heaven are not to be believed. And if you stand on these terms 74 A CALL TO THE rNCON\T:RTED. with God, I shall leave you till he deal with you in a more convincing way. God hath a voice that will make you hear ! Though he entreat you to hear the voice of his gos- pel, he will make you hear the voice of his condemning sentence, without entreaty. "We cannot make you beUeve against your wills ; but God wiU make you feel against your wills. But let us hear what reason you have, why you will not believe tliis word of God. which teUs us, that the wicked must be converted or condemned. I know your reason ; it is because that you judge it unlikely that God should be so unmercifiil ; you think it cruelty to damn men everlastingly for so small a thing as a sinM life. And this leads us up to the second thing, which is to justify- the equity of God in his laws and judgment. And first, I think you wiU not deny but that it is most suitable to an immortal soul, to be ruled by laws that pro- mise an immortal reward, and threaten an endless pimish- ment. Otherwise the law should not be suited to the na- ture of the subject, who will not be fiilly ruled by any lower means than the hopes or fears of everlasting things : as it is in case of temporal punishment. If a law were now made, that the most heinous crimes should be punished with a hundred years* captivity, this might be of some effi- cacy, as being equal to our lives. But if there had been no other penalties before the flood, when men lived eight or nine hundred years, it would not have been sufficient, because men would know that they might have so many hundred years' impunity afterward. So it is in our present case. 2. I suppose you will confess, that the promise of an end- less and inconceivable glori*, is not imsuitable to the wis- dom of G^d. or the case of man. And why then should you not think so of the threatening of an endless and un- speakable miseiy? 8. "When you find it in the word of God, that so it is, and so it wiU be, do you think yoinselves fit to contradict this word ? Will you call your Maker to the bar, and ex- amine his word upon the accusation of fiilsehood ? Will you sit upon him. and judge him by the law of } our conceits ? A CALL TO THE UNCOXl^ERTED. 75 Are you wiser, and better, and more righteous than he? Must the God of heaven come to school to you to learn wisdom ? Must Infinite Wisdom learn of folly ; and Infinite Goodness be coiTected by a swinish sinner, that cannot keep himself an hour clean ? Must the Almighty stand at the bar of a worm ? Oh honid arrogancy of senseless dust ! ShaU every mole, or clod, or dunghill, accuse the sun of darkness, and undertake to illuminate the world ? Where were you when the Almighty made the laws, that he did not call you to his counsel? Surely he made them before you were born, ■without desii'ing your ad\-ice, and you came into the world too late for to reverse them. K you could have done so great a work, you should have stepped out of your nothing- ness, and have contradicted Christ when he was on earth, or Moses before him, or have saved Adam and his sinM progeny from the threatening death, that so there might have been no need of Christ. And what if God withdraw liis patience and sustentation, and let you drop into hell while you are quarrelling "\nth his words, will you then be- lieve that there is a hell 4. If sin be such an e\'il that it requh-ed the death of Christ for its expiation, no wonder if it deserve our ever- lasting miser}'. 6. And if the sins of the dexils deserved an endless tor- ment, why not also the sins of men ? 6. And methinks you should perceive that it is not pos- sible for the best of men, much less for the wicked, to be competent judges of the desert of sin. Alas ! we are both bhnd and partial. You can never know fully the desert of sin, tin you fiiUy know the evil of sin ; and you can never fiilly know the evil of sin, tiU you fully know, 1. The ex- cellency of the soul which it deformeth. 2. And the ex- cellency of holiness which it doth obhterate. 3. And the reason and the excellency of the law which it violateth. And, 4. The excellency of the glor}' which it doth despise. And, 5. The excellency and oflSce of reason which ittreadeth down. 6. No, nor till you know the infinite excellency, almightiiicss, and holiness of that God, against Avhom it is 76 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. committed. When you fully know all these, you shall fully know the desert of sin Besides, you know that the offender is too partial to judge the law, or the proceedings of his judge. We judge by feeling, which binds om- reason. We see in common Avorldly things, that most men think the cause is right which is their own, and that all is wrong that is done against them ; and let the most wise, or just, or im- partial friends persuade them to the contrary, and it is all in vain. There are few children but tliink the father un- merciful, or that he dealeth hardly with them, if he whip them. There is scarce the vilest, swinish wretch, but thinketh the church doth wrong him, if they excommunicate him ; or scarce a thief or murderer that is hanged, but would accuse the law and judge of cruelty, if that woidd serve his turn. 7. Can you think that an unholy soul is fit for heaven ? Alas ! they cannot love God here, nor do him any service which he can accept. They are contrary to God, they loathe that which he most loveth, and love that which he abhorreth. They are incapable of that imperfect commu- nion Avith him, which his saints here do partake of How then can they live m that perfect love of him, and fuU de- lights and communion with him, which is the blessedness of heaven ? You do not accuse yourselves of unmercifulness, if you make not your enemy your bosom counsellor ; or if you take not your swine to bed and board with you ; no, nor if you take away their life, thougli they never sinned. And yet will you blame the absolute Lord, the most wise and gracious Sovereign of the world, if he condemn the uncon- verted man to perpetual misery. Use. I beseech you now, all that love your souls, that instead of quarrellmg with God, and with his word, you will presently stoop to it, and use it for your good. All you that are yet unconverted in this assembly, take this as the undoubted truth of God ; you must ere long be con- verted or condemned, there is no other way but turn or die. When God, that cannot lie, hath told you this, when you hear from the Maker and Judge of the world, it is time for A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 77 him that hath ears to hear ; by this time you may see what you have to trust to. You are but dead and damned men, except you will be converted. Should I tell you otherwise, I should but deceive you with a lie. Should I hide this from you, I should undo you, and be guilty of your blood, as the verses before my text assure me, ver. 8, " When I say to the wicked man, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die ; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at thine hand." You see then, though this be a rough, unwelcome doctrine, it is such as we must preach and you must hear. It is easier to hear of hell than feel it. If your necessities did not require it, we should not gall your tender ears with truths that seem so harsh and grievous. Hell would not be so full, if people were but walling to Icnow their case, and to hear and think of it. The reason wh)' so few escape it, is, because they strive not to enter in at the strait gate of conversion, and to go the nar- row way of lioliness while they have time ; and they strive not, because they be not awakened to a lively feeling of the danger they are in ; and they be not awakened, because they are loth to hear or think of it ; and that is partly through foolish tenderness, and carnal self-love, and partly because they do not well believe the word that threateneth it. If you will not thoroughly believe this truth, methinks the weight of it should force you to remember it, and it should follow you and give you no rest till you are converted. If you had but once heard this word, by the voice of an angel, Thou must be converted or condemned ; turn or die ! would it not stick in your mind, and haunt you night and day? So that in your sinning you would remember it, as if the voice were still in your ears. Turn or die ! Oh happy were your souls, if it might thus work with you, and never be forgotten, or let you alone till it hath di'iven home your hearts to God. But if you will cast it out by forgetfulness or unbelief, how can it work to your conversion and salva- tion ? But take this with you, to your sorrow, though you may put tliis out of your minds, you cannot put it out of tho 78 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. Bible ; but there it will stand as a sealed truth, which you shall experimentally know for ever, that there is no other way but turn or die. Oh what is the matter then that the hearts of sinners be not pierced with such a weighty truth ! A man would think now that every unconverted soul that hears these words should be pricked to the heart, and think Avith them- selves. This is my o^vn case ; and never be quiet till they found themselves converted. Believe it, sirs, this drowsy, careless temper will not last lonp;. Conversion and con- demnation are both of them awakening things ; and one of them Avill make you feel ere long. I can foretell it as truly as if I saw it with my eyes, that either grace or hell will shortly bring these matters to the quick, and make you say, AVhat have I done ? What foolish, wicked courses have I taken ? The scornful and stupid state of sinners will last but a little while : as soon as they either turn or die, the presumptuous (h*eam will be at an end, and then their wits and feehng will return. But I foresee there are two things that are like to harden the unconverted, and make me lose all my labour, except they can be taken out of the way : and that is, the misun- derstanding of those two words, the wicked, and turn. Some -will think with themselves, it is true, the wicked must turn or die ; but what is that to me ? I am not Avicked, though I am a sinner, as all men be. Others will think, it is true that we must tiu-n fi'om our e\il ways ; but I am turned long ago, I hope this is not now to do. And thus, while wicked men think they are not wicked, but are al- ready converted, we lose all our labour in persuading them to turn. I shall therefore, before I go any further, tell you here who are meant by the wicked, and who they be that must turn or die, and also what is meant b}' turning ; and who they be that are truly converted ; and this I have pur- posely reserved for this place, preferring the method tliat fits my end. And here you may observe, th;tt in the sense of the text, a wicked man and a coJivcrted man are contraries. No man A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 79 is a wicked man that is converted, and no man is a con- verted man that is wicked ; so that to be a wicked man, and to be an miconverted man, is all one. And therefore in opening one, we shall open both. Before I can tell you what either wickedness or conver- sion is, I must go to the bottom, and fetch up the matter from the beginning. It pleased the great Creator of the world to make three sorts of Uving creatures. Angels he made pm-e spu-its with- out flesh, and therefore he made them only for heaven, and not to dwell on earth. Beasts were made Hesh A\-ithout im- mortal souls ; and therefore they were made only for earth, and not for heaven. Man is of a middle nature, between both, as partaking of both flesh and spirit ; and therefore he was made both for heaven and earth. But as liis flesh is made to be but a servant to his spirit, so is he made for earth, but has his passage or way to heaven, and not that this should be his home or happiness. The blessed state that man was made for, was to behold the glorious majesty of the Lord, and to praise him among his holy angels, and to love him, and be filled with his love for ever. And as this was the end that man was made for, so God did give him means that were fitted to the attaining of it. These means were principally two. First, The right incHnation and disposition of the mind of man. Secondly, The right ordering of his fife and practice. For the first, God suited the disposition of man to his end ; giving him such know- ledge of God, as was fit for his present state, and a heart disposed and inclined to God in holy love. But yet he did not fix or confirm him in this condition ; but Jiaving made him a free agent, he left him in the hands of his own free- will. For the second, God did that which belonged to him ; that is, he gave man a perfect law, requiring him to continue in the love of God, and perfectly to obey him. By the wilful breach of this law, man did not only forfeit his hopes of everlasting life, but also turned his heart fi*om God, and fixed it on these lower, fleshly things, and hereby did blot out the spiritual iraage of God from his soul. So 80 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. that man did both fall short of the glory of God, which -was his end, and put himself out of the way by which he should have attained it ; and this, both as to the fi^me of his heart and of his life. The holy inclination and love of his soul to God, he lost ; and instead of it, he contracted an inclination and love to the pleasing of his flesh, or carnal self, by earthly things ; growing strange to God, and acquainted with the creature : and the course of his life was suited to the bent and inclination of his heart ; he lived to his carnal self, and not to God : he sought the creature for the pleasing of his flesh, instead of seeking to please the Lord. With this nature or corrupt inclination, we are all now bom into the world : for " who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?" Job xiv. 4. As a Hon hath a fierce and cruel nature, before he doth devour, and as an adder hath a venomous nature before she stings, so in our rery infancy we have those sinful natures or inclinations, before we think, or speak, or do amiss. And hence springeth all the sin of our lives. And not only so, but when God hath of his mercy provided us a remedy, even the Lord Jesus Christ, to be the Saviour of our souls, and bring us back to God again, we naturally love our present state, and are loth to be brought out of it, and therefore are set against the means of our recover)' ; and though cus- tom hath taught us to thank Christ for his good will, yet carnal self persuadeth us to refuse his remedies, and to de- sii*e to be excused when we are commanded to take the me- dicines which he ofiereth, and are called to forsake all, and follow huu to God and glory. I pray you^ead over this leaf again, and mark it : for in these few words you have a true description of our natural state, and consequently of a wicked man. For exery man that is in this state of corrupted nature, is a wicked man, and in a state of death. By this also you are prepared to understand what it is to be converted ; to which end you must further know, that the mercy of God, not -willing that man shotdd perish in his sin, pro^•ided a remedy, by causing his Son to take A cf^LL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 81 our nature, and being in one person God and man, to be- come a Mediator between God and man ; and by djdng for our sins on the cross, to ransom us from the curse of God, and the power of the devil : and ha\ing thus redeemed us, the Father hath delivered us into his hands as his own. Hereupon the Father and the Mediator do make a new law and covenant for man. Not like the first, which gave life to none but the perfectly obedient, and condemned man for every sin ; but Christ hath made a law of gi'ace, or a pro- mise of pardon and everlasting life to all that by true repen- tance, and by faith in Christ, are converted unto God. Like an act of oblivion, which is made by a prince to a company of rebels, on condition they will lay down their arms, and come in, and be loyal subjects for the time to come. But be«ause the Lord knoweth that the heart of man is grown so wicked, that, for all this, men will not accept of the remedy if they be left to themselves ; therefore the Holy Ghost hath undertaken it as his office to inspire the apostles, and seal up the Scripture by miracles and wonders, and to illuminate and convert the souls of the elect. So that by this much you see, that as there are three Persons in the Tiinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; so al! of these Persons have their several works, which are eminently ascribed to them. The Father's works were, to create us, to rule us as his rational creatures by the law of nature, and judge us there- by ; and in mercy to provide us a Redeemer when we were lost ; and to send his Son, and accept his ransom. The works of the Son for us were these : to ransom and redeem us by his sufferings and righteousness, to give out the promise or law of grace, and rule and judge the world as their Redeemer, on terms of grace ; and to make inter- cession for us, that the benefits of his death may be com- municated ; and to send the Holy Ghost (which the Father also doth by the Son.) The works of the Holy Ghost for us are these : to indite the holy Scriptures, by inspiruig and guiding the prophets F 82 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. and apostles ; and sealing the word by his miraculous gifts and works ; and the illuminatmg and exciting the ordinary ministers of the gospel ; and so enabling them, and helping them to pubhsh that word, and by the same word illumi- nating and converting the souls of men. So that as you could not have been reasonable creatures if the Father had not created you ; nor have had any access to God if the Son had not redeemed you ; so neither can you have a part in Christ, or be saved, except the Holy Ghost do sanctify you. So that by this time you may see the several causes of this work. The Father sendeth the Son ; the Son redeemeth us, and maketh the promise of grace ; the Holy Ghost in- diteth and sealeth this gospel ; the apostles are the secre- taries of the Spirit, to ^vrite it ; the preachers of the gospel are the heralds to proclaim it, and persuade men to obey it ; and the Holy Ghost doth make their preaching effectual, by opening the hearts of men to entertain it. And all this to repair the image of God upon the soul, and to set the heart upon God again, and take it off the creature and carnal self, to which it is revolted, and so turn the cm-rent of this hfe into a heavenly course, which before was earthly ; and all this by the entertainment of Christ by faith, who is the Physician of the soul. By this which I have said, you may see what it is to be ^\dcked, and what it is to be unconverted. "^Vhich, I think, will be yet plainer to you, if I describe them as consisting of their several parts : and for the first, A wicked man may be known by these three things : First, He is one that placeth his chief content on earth ; and loveth the creature more than God ; and his fleshly prosperity above the heavenly feHcity : he savouretli the things of the flesh, but neither discemefh nor savoureth the things of the Spirit ; though he will say that heaven is better than earth, yet doth he not really so esteem it to himself. If he might be sure of earth, he would let go heaven, and had rather stay here than be removed thither. A life of perfect holiness in the sight of God, and in his love, and praises for A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 83 ever in heaven, doth not find such liking with his heart as a life of health, and wealth, and honour here upon earth. And though he falsely profess that he loveth God above aU, yet indeed he never felt the power of divine love ivithin liim, but his mind is more set on the world, or fleshly pleasures, than on God. In a word, whoever loveth earth above heaven, and fleshly prosperity more than God, is a wicked, unconverted man. On the other side, a converted man is illuminated to dis- cern the loveliness of God ; and so far believeth the glory that is to be had with God, that his heart is taken up to it, and set more upon it than on any thing in this world. He had rather see the face of God, and live in his everlasting love and praises, than have all the wealth or pleasure of the world. He sceth that all things else are vanity, and nothing but God can fill the soul ; and therefore let the world go which way it will, he layeth up his treasures and hopes in heaven ; and for that he is resolved to let go all. As the fire doth mount upward, and the needle that is touched with the loadstone stUl turneth to the north, so the converted soul is inclined unto God. Nothing else can satisfy him ; nor can he find any content and rest but in his love. In a word, all that are converted do esteem and love God better than aU the world, and the heavenly felicity is dearer to them than their fleshly prosperity. The proof of what I have said you may find in these places of Scripture, Phil. iii. 18, 21 ; Matt. vi. 19-21 ; Col. iii. 1-4 ; Rom. viii. 3, 6-9, 18, 23 ; Psal. Ixxiii. 25, 26. Secondly, A wicked man is one that maketh it the pi-in- cipal business of his life to prosper in the world, and attain his fleshly ends. And though he may read and hear, and do much ia the outward duties of religion, and forbear dis- graceful sins ; yet this is all but upon the bye, and he never makes it the trade and principal business of his life to please God and attain everlasting glory, but puts off" God with the leavings of the world, and gives him no more service than the flesh can spare ; for he will not part with all for heaven. On the contrary, a converted man is one that makes it 84 A CALL TO THE UNCONA'ERTED. the principal care and business of his Hfe to please God, and to be saved ; and takes all the blessings of this life but as accommodations in his journey towards another life, and useth the creatm-e in subordination unto God : he loveth a lioly life, and longeth to be more holy ; he hath no sin but Avhat he hateth, and longeth, and prayeth, and striveth to be rid of. The di'ift and bent of his life is for God ; and if he sin, it is contrary to the xery bent of his heart and Hfe, and therefore he lises again, and lamenteth it, and dare not wil- fully hve in any known sin. There is nothing in this world so dear to him but he can give it up to God, and forsake it for him and the hopes of glory. All this you may see in Col. iii. 1-5 ; Matt. \i. 20^ 33 ; Luke xviii. 22, 23, 29 ; xiv. 18, 24, 26, 27 ; Rom. ^•iii. 13 ; Gal. v. 24 : Luke xii. 21, &c. Thirdly, The soul of a wicked man did never truly dis- cern and relish the mystery of redemption, nor thankfully entertain an offered Saviour, nor is he taken up with the love of the Redeemer, nor willing to be ruled by hun, as the Physician of his soul, that he may be saved fi'om the guUt and power of his sins, and recovered unto God ; but his heart is insensible of this mispeakable benefit, and is quite against the healing means by which he should be recovered. Though he may be willing to be carnally rehgious, yet he never re- signed up his soul to Christ, and to the motions and conduct of his word and Spirit. On the contrary, the converted soul having felt himself undone by sin ; and percei^•ulg that he hath lost his peace ydth God. and hopes of heaven, and is in danger of ever- lasting misery, doth thankfully entertain the tidings of re- demption; and believing in the Lord Jesus as his only Sariom', resigneth up himself to him for wisdom, righteous- ness, sanctification, and redemption. He taketh Clirist as the life of his soul, and hveth by him, and useth him as a salve for every sore, admiring the wisdom and love of God in his wonderful work of man's redemption. In a word, Christ doth even dwell in his heart by faith, and the life that he now liveth is by faith in the Son of God, wlio loved A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 85 him and gave himself for him. Yea, it is not so much he that liveth, as Christ in him. For these, see John i, 11, 12 ; iii. 19, 20 ; Rom. viii. 9 ; Phil. iii. 7-10; Gal. ii. 20; John xv. 2-4 ; 1 Cor. i. 20 ; ii. 2. You see now in plain terms, from the ■word of God, who are the wicked, and who are the converted. Ignorant people thuik, that if a man be no swearer, nor curser, nor railer, nor drunkard, nor fornicator, nor extortioner, nor wrong any body in their dealings, and if they come to church, and say then- prayers, these cannot be wicked men. Or if a man that hath been guilty of di'unkenness, swearing, gaming, or the like Aaces, do but forbear them for the time to come, they think that this is a converted man. Others think, if a man that hath been an enem}-, and a scorner of godliness, do but approve it, and join himself with those that are godly, and be hated for it by the wicked, as the godly are, that this needs must be a converted man. And some are sp fooHsh as to think they are converted, by tak- ing up some new and false opinion ; and falling into some diA-iding party, as baptists, quakers, papists, or such like. And some think, if they have but been affi-ighted by the fears of hell, and had convictions, and gi'ipes of conscience, and thereupon have pur^ioscd and promised amendment, and taken up a life of cixiL behaviour, and outward reUgion, that this must needs be true conversion. And these are the poor deluded souls that are like to lose the benefit of all oiu' persuasions. And when they hear that the -s^-icked must turn or die, they think that tliis is not spoken of them ; for they are not wicked, but are turned already. And there- fore it is, that Chnst told some of the rulers of the Jews, who were more grave and ci\-il than the common people, that " Publicans and harlots do go into the kingdom of God before them," Matt. xxi. 31. Not that a harlot or gross sinner can be saved withouC conversion, but because it was easier to make those gross sinners perceive their sin and misery, and the necessity of a change, when the civiler sort do delude themselves by thinking that they are con- verted already, when they be not S6 A CALL TO THE L^'CONVERTED. O sirs, conversion is another kind of work tlian most are aware of. It is not a small matter to bring an earthly mind to heaven, and to shew man the amiable excellencies of God, till he be taken up in such love to him that can never be quenched ; to break the heart for sin, and make liim fly for refuge unto Christ, and thankfully embrace him as the life of his soul ; to have the very di-ift and bent of the heart and life to be changed ; so that a man renounceth that which he took for his felicity, and placeth his feHcity where he never did before, and liveth not to the same end, and driveth not on the same design in the world as former- ly he did : in a word, he that is in Christ ''is a new creature ; old things are passed away, behold all things are become new," 2 Cor. v. 17. He hath a new imderstanding, a new will and resolution, new sorrows, and desii'es, and love, and delight ; new thoughts, new speeches, new com- pany (if possible), and a new conversation. Sin, that be- fore was a jesting matter with him, is now so odious and terrible to him that he flies from it as from death. The world, that was so lovely in his eyes, doth now appear but as vanity and vexation, God, that was before neglected, is now the only happiness of his soul : before he was for- gotten, and every lust preferred before him ; but now is set next the heart, and all things must give place to him ; and the heart is taken up in the attendance and observance of him, and is grieved when he hides his face, and never thinks itself well without him. Christ himself, that was wont to be slightly thought of, is now his only hope and re- fuge, and he Hves upon him as on his daily bread ; he can- not pray without him, nor rejoice without him, nor think, nor speak, nor live, without him. Heaven itself, that be- fore was looked upon but as a tolerable reserve, which he hoped might serve turn better than hell, when he could not stay any longer in the world, is now taken for his home, the place of his only hope and rest, where he shall see, and love, and praise that God that hath his heart already. Hell, that did seem before but as a bugbear to frighten men from sin, doth now appear to be a real misery, that is not A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 87 to be ventured on or jested with. The works of holiness, which before he was weary of, and seemed to be more ado than needs, are now both his recreation, and his business, and the trade he lives upon. The Bible, which was before to him but almost as a common book, is now as the law of God, as a letter wi'itten to him from heaven, and subscribed with the name of the Eternal Majesty ; it is the rule of his thoughts, and words, and deeds ; the commands are binding, the threats are dreadful, and the promises of it speak life to his soul. The godly, that seemed to him but like other men, are now the most excellent and happiest on earth. And the wicked that were his play-fellows, are now his grief ; and he that could laugh at their sins, is readier now to weep for their sin and misery, Psal. xv. 4 ; xvi. 3 ; Phil, iii. 18. In short, he hath a new end in liis thoughts, and a new way in his endeavours, and therefore his heart and life are new. Before, his carnal self was his end ; and his pleasure, and worldly profits, and credits were his way. And now, God and everlasting glory are his end ; and Christ, and the Spirit, and the word, and ordinances, holiness to God, and righteousness and mercy to men, these are his way. Before, self was the chiefest ruler, to which the mat- ters of God and conscience must stoop and give place : and noAV God in Christ, by the Spirit, word, and ministry, is the chiefest Ruler, to whom both self, and aU the matters of self, must give place. So that this is not a change in one, or two, or twenty points, but in the whole soul ; and the very end and bent of the conversation. A man may step out of one path into another, and yet have his face stUl the same way, and be still going towards the same place ; but it is another matter to turn quite back again, and take his journey the clean contrary way, to a contrary place. So it is here ; a man may turn from drunkenness to thrifti- ness, and forsake his good fellowship, and other gross, dis- graceful sins, and set upon some duties of religion, and yet be going still to the same end as before, mtending his car- nal self above all, and giving it still the government of his soul. But when he is converted, this self is denied and 88 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. taken down, and God is set up, and his face is turned the contrary way : and he that before was addicted to himself, and lived to himself, is now by sanctification devoted to God, and liveth unto God. Before he asked himself what he should do with liis time, his parts, and his estate, and for himself he used them ; but now he asketh God what he shall do with them, and useth them for him : before he would please God so far as might stand with the pleasure of his llesh and carnal self, but not to any great displea- sure of them; but now he will please God, let flesh and self be ever so much displeased. This is the great change that God will make upon all that shall be saved. You can say that the Holy Ghost is our Sanctifier ; but do you know what sanctification is ? "NMiy, this is it that I have now opened to you : and every man or woman in the world must have this, or be condemned to everlasting miserj-. They must turn or die. Do you beHeve all this, sirs, or do you not ? Surely you dare not say you do not ; for it is past all doubt or denial. These are not controversies, where one leanied, pious man is of one mind, and another of another; w^here one party saith this, and the other saith that : papists and baptists, and every sect among us, that deserve to be called Christians, are all agreed in this that I have said ; and if you will not beUeve the God of truth, and that in a case where every sect and partv doth beHeve him, vou are utterly inexcus- able. But if you do beheve this, how comes it to pass that you are so quiet in an unconverted state ? Do you think you are converted? and can you find this wonderfid change upon your souls? Have you been thus bom again, and made anew ? Be not these strange matters to many of you ? and such as you never felt upon yoiu"selves? K you cannot tell the day or week of your change, or the very sermon that converted you, yet do you find that the work is done, and such a change indeed there is ? and that you have such hearts as are before described? Alas, the most do follow their worldly business, and little trouble their minds with A CALL TO THE UXCON\^ERTED. 89 such thoughts. And if they be but restrained from scan- dalous sins, and can say, I am no whoremonger, nor thief, nor curser, nor swearer, nor tippler, nor extortioner ; I go to the church and say my prayers ; they think that this is true conversion, and they shall be saved as well as any. Alas, this is foolish cheating of }-ourselves ; this is too much contempt of an endless glory, and too gross neglect of your immortal souls. Can you make so hght of heaven and hell? Your corpse -wall shortly lie in the dust, and angels or devils will presently seize upon your souls ; and every man or woman of you all, will shortly be among other company, and in another case than now you are: you will dwell in these houses but a httle longer ; you -svill work in your shops and fields but a little longer ; }'ou will sit in these seats, and dwell on this earth, but a little longer ; you Avill see with those eyes, and hear with those ears, and speak with those tongues, but a little longer, till the resurrection day ; and can you make shift to forget this ? Oh what a place will you be shortly in of joy or torment ! Oh what a sight -will you shortly see in heaven or hell ! Oh what thoughts will shortly fill your hearts with unspeakable delight or horror ! ^Tiat work will you be employed in ! To praise the Lord mth saints and angels, or to cry out in fire unquenchable with de^^ls : and should all this be forgotten ? And all this will be endless, and sealed up by an unchangeable decree. Eternity, eteraity Avill be the measure of your joys or sor- rows ; and can this be forgotten ? And all this is true, liirs, most certainly true : when }'ou have gone up and down a little longer, and slept and aAvaked but a few times more, you will be dead and gone, and find all true that now I tell you ; and yet can you now so much forget it ? You shall then remember you heard this sermon, and that this day, in t!f.is place, you were remembered of these things, and per- ceive them matters a thousand times gi'eater than either you or I could here conceive ; and yet shall they be now so much forgotten ? Beloved friends, if the Lord had not awakened me to be- lieve and lay to heart these things myself, I should have re- 90 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. mained in the dai'k and selfish state, and have perished for ever ; but if he have truly made me sensible of them, it wiU constrain me to compassionate you, as well as myself. If your eyes were so far open as to see hell, and you saw your neighbom-s that were unconverted, dragged thither with hideous cries ; though they were such as you accounted honest people on earth, and feared no such matter by them- selves ; such a sight would make you go home and tliink of it, and think again, and make you warn all about you, as that damned worldling in Luke xvi. 28 would have had his brethren warned, lest they come to that place of torment. Vrhjy faith is a kind of sight, it is the eye of the soul, the evidence of things not seen : if I beheve God, it is next to seeing ; and therefore I beseech you excuse me, if I be hiilf as earnest with you about these matters^ as if I had seen them. K I must die to-morrow, and it were in my power to come again fi-om another world, and tell you what I had seen, would you not be willing to hear me ? and would you not believe and regard what I should tell you ? If I might preach one sermon to you after I am dead, and have seen what is done in the world to come, would you not have me plainly speak the truth ? and would you not crowd to hear me ? and would you not lay it to heai-t ? but this must not be : God hath his appointed way of teaching you by Scrip- ture and ministers ; and he will not humom- liubehevers so far, as to send men from the dead to them, and alter his estabhshed way : if any man quarrel \vith. the sun, God will not humour liim so far, as to set up a clearer light. Friends, I beseech you regard me now, as you would do if I should come from the dead to you ; for I can give you the full assu- rance of the truth of what I say to you, as if I had been there and seen it with my eyes : for it is possible for one from the dead to deceive you ; but J esus Christ can never deceive you ; the word of God delivered in Scripture, and sealed up by the miracles and holy workuigs of the Spirit, can never deceive you. BeJieve this, or beheve nothing. Beheve and obey this, or }-ou are undone. Now, as ever you beUeve the word of God, and as as ever you care for A C^VLL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 91 the salvation of your souls, let me beg of you this reasonable request, and I beseech you deny me not, that you would ■without any more delay, when you are gone from hence, remember what you heard, and enter into an earnest search of your hearts, and say unto yourselves. Is it so indeed ? Must I turn or die ? Must I be converted or condemned ? It is time for me then to look about me, before it be too late. Oh why did not I look after this till now ? "Why did I venturously put off or slubber over so great a business? Was I awake, or in my wits ? O blessed God, what a mercy is it that thou didst not cut off my life all this while, before I had any certain hope of eternal life ! AVell, God forbid that I should neglect this work any longer. "WTiat state is my soul in ? Am I converted, or am I not ? Was ever such a change or work done upon my soul ? Have I been illumi- nated by the word and Spirit of the Lord, to see the odious- ness of sm, the need of a Sa\dour, the love of Christ, and the excellences of G od and glory ? Is my heart broken, or humbled mtliin me, for my former life ? Have I thankfully entertained my SaAdour and Lord, that offered himself with pardon and life to my soul? Do I hate my former sinful life, and the remnant of every sin that is in me ? Do I fly fi'om them as my deadly enemies? Do I give up myself to a life of holiness and obedience to God ? Do I love it and delight in it ? Can I truly say, that I am dead to the world, and carnal self ; and that I live for God, and the glory which he hath promised ? Ilath heaven more of my estima- tion and resolution than earth ? And is God the dearest and highest in my soul ? Once, I am sure, I lived principally to the world and flesh, and God had nothing but some heart- less services which the world could spare, and which were the leavings of flesh. Is my heart now turned another way? Have I a new design, and a new end, and a new train of holy affections ? Have I set my hope and heart in heaven ? And is it the scope, and design, and bent of my heart and life, to get well to heaven, and see the glorious face of God, and live in his everlasting love and praise ? And when I sin, is it against the habitual bent and design of my heart ? And 92 A CALL TO THE UKCOXVERTED. do I conquer all gross sins, and am I weary and Avilling to be rid of my infirmities ? This is the state of a converted soul. And thus nmst it be with me, or I must perish. Is it thus with me indeed, or is it not ? It is time to get this doubt resolved, before the dreadful Judge resolve it. I am not such a stranger to my own heart and hfe, but I may somewhat perceive whether I am thus converted or not : if I be not, it will do me no good to flatter my soul with false conceits and hopes. I am resolved no more to deceive my- self, but to endeavour to know truly, off or on, whether I be converted, yea or no ; that if I be, I may rejoice in it, and glorify my gracious Lord, and comfortably go on till I reach the crown ; and if I am not, I may set myself to beg and seek after the grace that should convert me, and may turn without any more delay : for if I find in time that I am out of the way, by the help of Christ I may tum and be re- ceived ; but if I stay till either my heart be forsaken of God in blindness and hardness, or till I be catched away by death, it is then too late. There is no place for repentance and conversion then ; I know it must be now or never. Sirs, this is my request to you, that you will but take your hearts to task, and thus examine them, till you see, if it may be, whether you are converted or not ; and if you cannot find it out by your OAvn endeavours, go to your mi- nisters, if they be faithful and experienced men, and desire their assistance. The matter is great, let not bashfulness nor carelessness hinder you. Tliey are set over you to ad- ^^se you for the saving of your souls, as physicians advise you for the curing of your bodies. It undoes many thou- sands, that they think they are in the way to salvation, when they are not ; and think that they are converted, when it is no such thing. And then when we call to them daily to turn, they go away as they came, and think that this concerns not them ; for they are turned already, and hope they shall do well enough in the way that they are in, at least if they do pick the fairest path, and avoid some of the foulest steps ; when alas, all this while, they live but to the world and flesh, and are strangers to God and eternal A CALL TO THE UNCOXVERTED. 93 life, and are quite out of the way to heaven. And all this is much because we cannot persuade them to a few serious thoughts of their condition, and to spend a few hours in the examining of their states : is there not many a self-conceited wretch that hears me this day, that never bestowed one hour, or a quarter of an hour, in all their lives, to examine their souls, and try whether they are truly converted or not ? O merciful God, that will care for such wretches that care no more for themselves, and that will do so much to save them from hell, and help them to heaven, who will do so little for it themselves ! K all that are in the way to hell, and in a state of damnation, did but know it, they durst not continue in it. The greatest hope that the devil hath, of bringing you to damnation without a rescue, is by keeping you blindfold and ignorant of your state, and making you believe that you may do well enough in the way that you are in. If you knew that you were out of the way to heaven, and were lost for ever, if you should die as you are, durst you sleep an- other night in the state that you are in ? Durst you live another day in it ? Could you heartily laugh or be merry in such a state ? What ! and not know but you may be snatch- ed away to hell in an hour ! Sure it would constrain you to forsake your former company and courses, and to betake yourselves to the ways of holiness, and the connnunion of the saints. Sure it would drive you to cry to God for a new heart, and to seek help of those that are fit to coimsel you. There is none of you, sure, that cares not for being damned. Well then, I beseech you, presently make in- quiry into your hearts, and give them no rest till you find out your condition, that if it be good, you may rejoice in it and go on ; and if it be bad, you may presently look about you for recovery, as men that believe they must turn or die. What say you, sirs, will you resolve and promise to be at thus much labour for your souls ? Will you fall upon this self-examination when you come home ? Is my request unreasonable ? Your consciences know it is not ; resolve on it then, before you stir : knowing how nuicli it concerneth 94 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. your souls, I beseech you for the sake of that God that doth command you, at whose bar you will shortly appear, that you will not deny me this reasonable request. For the sake of those souls that must turn or die, I beseech you deny me not ; even but to make it your business to understand your own conditions, and build upon sure ground, and know off or on, whether you are converted or no, and venture not your souls on negligent security. But perhaps you will say, A^Tiat if we should find our- selves yet unconverted, what shall we do then ? This ques- tion Icadeth me to my second doctrme ; which will do much to the answering of it, to which I shall now proceed. Doct. II. It is the promise of God, that the wicked shall live if they will but turn, unfeignedly and thoroughly turn. The Lord here professeth, that this is it he takes plea- sure in, that the wicked turn and live. Heaven is made as sure to the converted, as heU is to the unconverted. Turn and live, is as certain a truth as turn or die. God was not bound to provide us a Saviour, nor open to us the door of hope, nor call to us to repent and turn, when once we had cast ourselves away by sin. But he hath free- ly done it to magnify his mercy. Sinners, there are none of you shall have cause to go home and say, I preach des- peration to you. Do we use to shut up the door of mercy against you? Oh that you would not shut it up against yourselves ! Do we use to teU you that God will have no mercy on you, though you turn and be sanctified ? When did you ever hear a preacher say such a Avord ? You tliat bark at the preachers of the gospel, for desiring to keep you out of hell, and say that they preach desperation ; tell me if you can, when did you ever hear any sober man say, that there is no hope for you, though ye repent and be convert- ed ? No, it is the clean contrary that we daily proclaim from the Lord, That whosoever is bom again, and by faith and repentance doth become a new creature, shall certainly be saved ; and so far we are from persuading you to despair of this, that we persuade you not to make any doubt of it. It is fife, and not death, that is the first part of our mcs- A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 95 sage to you ; oiu' commission i^ to offer salvation ; certain salvation, a speedy, glorious, CA'erlasting salvation, to every one of you ; to the poorest beggar, as well as to the great- est lord ; to the worst of you, even to the drunkards, swear- ers, worldlings, thieves, yea, to the despisers and reproachers of the holy way of salvation. We are commanded by our Lord and ISIaster to offer you a pardon for all that is past, if you will but now at last return and live ; we are com- manded to beseech and entreat you to accept the offer and return ; to tell you what preparation is made by Clirist, what mercy stays for you, what patience waiteth on you, what thoughts of kindness God hath towards you ; and how happy, how certainly and unspeakably happy, you may be if you will. We have indeed, also, a message of wrath and death ; yea, of a twofold wrath and death ; but neither of them is our principal message : we must tell you of the wrath that is on you already, and the death that you are born under, for the breach of the law of works : but this is only to shew you the need of mercy, and provoke you to esteem the gi'ace of the Redeemer. And we tell you nothing but the truth, which you must know : for who will seek out for physic, that knows not that he is sick? For telling you of your misery, is not it that makes you miserable, but driveth you to seek^for mercy. It is you that have brought this death upon your- selves. We tell you also of another death, even remediless, and much greater torment which will full on those that will not be converted. But as this is true, and must be told you ; so it is but the last and saddest part of our message : we are first to offer you mercy, if you will turn ; and it is only those that -svill not turn nor hear the voice of mercy, that we must foretell damnation to. Will you but cast away your transgi'essions, delay no longer, but come away at the call of Christ and be converted, and become new creatures, and we have not a word of damnmg -svi-ath or death to speak against you. I do here in the name of the Lord of life proclaim to you all that hear me this day, to the worst of you, to the greatest, to the oldest sinner, that you may have mercy and salvation if you will but tm-n. J?here 96 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. is mercy in God, tliere is sufficiency in the satisfaction of Christ, the promise is free, full, and universal : you may have life if you will but turn. But then, as you love your souls, remember what turning it is the Scripture speaks of. It is not to mend the old house, but to pull down all, and build anew on Christ the rock and sure foundation. It is not to mend somewhat in a carnal course of life, but to mortify the flesh, and live after the Spirit. It is not to serve the flesh and the world in a more reformed way, without any scandalous disgraceful sins, and with a certain kind of religiousness ; but it is to change your master, and yom* works, and end, and set your face a contrary way, and do all for the life that you never saw, and dedicate yourselves and all you have to God. This is the change that must be made, if you will live. Yourselves are \vitness now, that it is salvation, and not damnation, that is the great doctrine I preach to you, and the first part of my message to you. Accept of this, and we shall go no further with you : for we would not so much as affright or trouble you with the name of damna- tion without necessity. But if you -will not be saved, there is no remedy, but damnation must take place ; for there is no middle place between the two. You must have either life or death. And we are not only to offer you life, but to shew you the grounds on which we do it, and call you to believe, that God doth mean indeed as he speaks ; that the promise is true, and extendeth conditionally to you as well as others, and that heaven is no fancy, but a true fehcity. If you ask, where is our commission for this offer? Among a hundred texts of Scripture, I will shew it unto you in these few : First, you see it here in my text, and the following verses : and in Ezek. xviii. as plain as can be spoken. And in 2 Cor. V. 17-21, you have the vei-y sum of our commission (" If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature : old things are passed away ; behold, all things are become new. And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 97 J esus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconcili- ation ; to wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them ; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us ; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled unto God. For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin ; that we might be made the righteous- ness of God in him.") So Mark xvi. 15, 16, " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He that bclieveth (that is, with sacli a converting laith as is bc- fove expressed) and is baptized shall be saved ; but he that belie vetli not shall be damned." And Luke xxiv. 46, 47, " Thus it behoved Christ to suflcr, and to rise from the dead the third day : and that repentance (which includes conver- sion) and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations." And Acts. v. 30, 31, " The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye sIcav and hanged on a tree. Kim hath God exalted with his right "hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance to Israel, and for- giveness of sins." And Acts xiii. 38, 39, " Be it known unto you, therefore, men and brethren, that through this man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins : and by him all that believe are justified from all things, from which he could not be justified by the law of Moses." And lest you think this offer is restrained to the Jews, see Gal. vi. 15, " For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth any thmg, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature." And Luke xiv. 17, "Come, for all thmgs are now ready;" and ver. 23, 24. You see by this time, that we are commanded to offer life to you all, and to tell you from God, that if you will turn you may live. Here you may safely trust your souls ; for the love of God is the fountain of this offer, John iii. 16. And the blood of the Son of God hath purchased it ; the faithful- ness and truth of God is engaged to make the promise good ; miracles have sealed up the truth of it ; preach- 98 A CAIi TO THE UXOOJfTKRTED. ers are sent tlirou^ the world to proclaim craments are instituted and used for the sol of the mercy offered, to them that will acv. the Spirit doth open the heart to entertain it. self the earnest of the full possession. So tha!^ the trath of it is past controreKy, that the woist of jou all, and every one of yon, if you will but bo ocMiTerted, maj be saved. Indeed, if you will needs believe that you dulk be saved without converaon, then you bdieve a &lseliood; and if I should preadi that to yoo, I should praadi a fie. Tlui were not to believe God, but the devil and yoar own de- ceitful hearts. God hath his prcwoise of fife, and the devil hath his promise of life. God's promise is, Betom and five; the devil s is, Thou shalt live whether thou turn or not. The words of God are, as I have shewed yoo, Except ye be converted and beocHne as little children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom ' came into the world. God saidi to our first parents. If ye eat ye shall die ; the devil oonfrai&ls him, and saith. Ye shall not die ; and the wcnoan bdieved the devil before God. So now the L4xrd saith. Torn or die ; and the de\il saith. You shall not die if you do but cry mercy at last, and give over the acts of an, when you can practise them no longer. And this is the word that the world befieves. O heinous wioJtedness. to befieve the devil before God ! And yet that is not the worst, bat Uasphemoasfy tiiey call this a believing and trostiiig in God, when they pot him in the shape Satan, who was a fiar fiom the be^- A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 99 ning ; and when they believe that the word of God is a lie, they call this a trusting God, and say they beheve in him, and trust on him for salvation. Where did ever God say, that the unregenerate, unconverted, unsanctified, shall be saved ? Shew such a word in Scripture, I challenge you, if you can. Why, this is the de-^il's word, and to believe it is to believe the deA-il, and is the sin that is commonly called presumption. And do you call this a believing and trust- ing God ? There is enough in the word of God to comfort and strengthen the hearts of the sanctified ; but not a word to strengthen the hands of wickedness, nor to give men the least hope of being saved, though they be never sanc- tified. But if you will turn, and come into the way of mercy, the mercy of the Lord is ready to entertain you. Then trust God for salvation boldly and confidently, for he is en- gaged by his word to save you. He will be a father to none but his children, and he wiU save none but those that forsake the world, the de^-il, and the flesh, and come into his family, to be members of his Son, and have communion with the saints. But if they will not come in, it is their own fault ; his doors are open ; he keeps none back ; he never sent such a message as this to any of you. It is now too late, I will not receive thee, though thou be converted. He might have done so, and done you no wrong, but he did not, he doth not to this day, he is still ready to receive you, if you were but ready unfeignedly, and ^vith all your hearts, to turn. And the ful- ness of this truth will yet more appear in the two following doctrines, which I shall, therefore, next proceed to, before I make a further application of this. Doct. m. God taketh pleasure in men's conversion and salvation, but not in their death and damnation. He had rather they would return and live, than go on and die. I shall first teach you how to undei*stand this ; and then clear up the truth of it to you. And for the first, you must observe these following tilings : 1 . A simple willingness and complacency is the fiurst 100 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. act of the -vvill, following the simple apprehension of the understanding, before it proceedeth to compare things together. But the choosing act of the will is a following- act, and supposeth the comparing practical act of the understanding ; and these two acts may often be caiTied to contrary objects, without any fault at all in the person. 2. An unfeigned -willingness may have divers degrees. Some things I am so far willing of, as that I will do all that heth in my power to accomplish them. And some things I am truly willing another should do, when yet I will not do all that ever I am able to procure them, hav- ing many reasons to dissuade me therefrom ; though yet I will do all that belongs to me to do. 3. The will of a ruler, as such, is manifest in making and executing laws ; but the will of a man in his simple na- tural capacity, or as absolute lord of his own, is manifested in desiring or resolving of events. 4. A ruler's will, as lawgiver, is, fii'st and principally, that his law be obeyed, and not at all that the penalty be executed on any, but only on supposition that they will not obey his laws. But a ruler's will, as judge, supposeth the law already either kept or broken. And, therefore, he re- solveth on reward or punishment accordingly. Having given you these necessary distuictions, I shall next apply them to the case in hand, in these following propositions : — 1. It is in the glass of the word and creatures that in this life we must know God. And so, according to the nature of man, we ascribe to him understanding and will, removing all the imperfections that we can, because we are capable of no higher positive conceptions of him. 2. And on the same grounds we do (with the Scriptures) distinguish between the acts of God's will, as diversified from the respects, or the objects, though as to God's essence they are all one. 3. And the bolder, because that when we speak of Christ, we have the more groimd for it from his human nature. » A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 101 4. And thus we say, that the simple complacency, wll, or love of God, is to all that is naturally or morally good, according to the nature and degree of its goodness. And so he hath pleasure in the conversion and salvation of all^ which yet will never come to pass. 5. And God, as Ruler and Lawgiver of the world, had so far a practical will for their salvation, as to make them a free offer of gift of Christ and life, and an act of obHvion for all their sins, so be it they will not unthankfiilly reject it ; and to command his messengers to offer this gift to all the world, and persuade them to accept it. And so he doth all that, as Lawgiver or Promiser, belongs to him to do for their salvation. 6. But yet he resolveth, as Lawgiver, that they that will not turn, shall die. And as Judge, when their day of grace is past, he will execute that decree. 7. So that he thus unfeignedly willeth the conversion of those that never will be converted, but not as absolute Lord, with the fullest efficacious resolution, nor as a thing which lie resolveth shall undoubtedly come to pass, or would engage all his power to accompHsh. It is in the power of a prince to set a guard upon a murderer, to see that he shall not murder and be hanged. But if upon good reason he for- bear this, and do but send to his subjects, and warn and entreat them not to be murderers, I hope he may well say, that he would not have them murder and be hanged ; he takes no pleasure in it, but rather that they forbear, and live. And if he do more for some, upon some special rea- son, he is not bound to do so by all. The king may well say to all the murderers and felons in the land, I have no pleasure in your death, but rather that you would obey my laws and live ; but if you ydW not, I am resolved, for all this, that you shall die. The judge may truly say to the thief, or a murderer, Alas ! man, I have no delight in thy death, I had rather thou hadst kept the law, and saved thy life ; but seeing thou hast not, I nmst condenm thee, or else T should be unjust. So, though God have no pleasure in your damnation, and therefore calls upon you to return and 102 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. live, yet he hath pleasure in the demonstration of his own justice, and the executing his laws ; and, therefore, he is for all tliis fully resolved, that if you ■will not be converted, you shall be condemned. If God were so much against the death of the wicked, as that he were resolved to do aU that he can to hinder it, then no man should be condemned, whereas Christ telleth you that few will be saved. But so far God is against your damnation, as that he will teach you and warn you, and set before you life and death, and offer you your choice, and command his ministers to entreat you not to damn yourselves, but accept this mercy, and so to leave you without excuse ; but if this will not do, and if still you be unconverted, he professetli to you he is resolved of your damnation, and hath commanded us to say to you in his name, ver. 18, " O wicked man, thou shalt surely die ! " And Christ hath little less than sworn it over and over, with a " Verily, verily, except ye be converted and born again, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven," Matt, xviii. 3 ; John iii. 3. Mark that he saith, " You cannot." It is in vain to hope for it, and in vain to dream that God is willing of it ; for it is a thing that cannot be. In a word, you see then the meaning of the text, that God, the great Lawgiver of the world, doth take no plea- sure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn and live ; though yet he be resolved that none shall live but those that turn ; and as a judge even delighteth in justice, and manifesteth his hatred of sin, though not in their misery which they have brought upon themselves, in itself con- sidered. 2. And for the proofs of this point, I shall be very brief in them, because I suppose you easily believe it ah'eady. 1. The very gracious nature of God proclaimed, Exod. xxxiv. 6 ; XX. 6, and frequently elsewhere, may assure you of this, that he hath no pleasure in your death. 2. If God had more pleasure in thy death than in thy conversion and life, he Avould not have so frequently com- manded thee in his word to turn ; he would not have made thee such promises of life, if thou Avilt but turn ; he would A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 103 not have persuaded thee to it by so many reasons. The tenor of his gospel proveth the point. 3. And his commission that he hath given to the minis- ters of the gospel doth fully prove it. If God had taken more pleasm-e in thy daumation than hi thy conversion and salvation, he would never have charged us to offer you mercy, and to teach you the way of life, both pubhcly and privately ; and to entreat and beseech you to turn and Uve ; to acquaint you of your sins, and foretell you of your danger ; and to do all that possibly we can for your conversion, and to continue patiently so doing, though you should hate or abuse us for our pains. Would God have done this and appointed his ordinances for your good, if he had taken pleasure in your death '? •4. It is proved also by the course of his pro\idence. If God had rather you were damned than converted and saved, he would not second his word with his works, and entice you by his diiily kindness to himself, and give you all the mercies of this life, which are his means to lead you to re- pentance, Rom. ii. 4, and bring you so often under his rod, to force you to your wits. He would not set so many ex- amples before your eyes ; no, nor wait on you so patiently as he doth from day to day, and year to year. These be not signs of one that taketh pleasure in your death ; if this had been his deUght, how easily could he have had thee long ago in hell ! How oft, before this, could he have catched thee away in the midst of thy sms, with a ciu'se, or oath, or he in thy mouth, in thy ignorance, and pride, and sensuahty ; when thou wert last in thy drunkenness, or hist deriding the ways of God ! How easily could he have stopped thy breath, and tamed thee ^vitli his plagues, and made thee sober in another world ! Alas ! how small a matter is it for the Almighty to rule the tongue of the pro- fanest railer, and tie the hands of the most mahcious perse- cutor ; or calm the fury of the bitterest of his enemies, and make them know they are but worms ! If he shoidd but fro^vn upon thee, thou wouldst drop into thy grave. K he gave commission to one of his angels to go and destroy ten 104 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. thousand sinners, how quickly would it be done ! How easOy can he lay thee upon the bed of languishing, and make thee lie roaring there in pain, and make thee eat the words of reproach which thou hast spoken against his servants, his word, his worship, and his holy ways ; and make thee send to beg their prayers, whom thou didst de- spise in thy presumption ! How easily can he lay that flesh under gripes and groans, and make it too weak to hold thy soul, and make it more loathsome than the dung of the earth ! That flesh which now must have what it loves, and must not be displeased, and must be humoured with meat, drink, and clothes, whatsoever God says to the contrary, hoAv quickly would the fi'owns of God consume it ! When thou wast passionately defending thy sin, and quarrelling with them that would have drawn thee from it, and shewing thy spleen against the reprovers, and pleading for the works of darkness ; how easily could God snatch thee away in a moment, and set thee before his dreadful Majesty, where thou mayest see ten thousand times ten thousand of glorious angels waiting on his throne, and call thee there to plead thy cause, and ask thee, AYhat hast thou now to say against thy Creator, his truth, his servants, or his holy ways? now plead thy cause, and make the best of it thou canst. Now what canst thou say in excuse of thy sins ? Xow give account of thy worldliness and fleshly life, of thy time, of all thy mer- cies thou hast had. Oh how thy stubborn heart would have melted, and thy proud looks be taken down, and thy coun- tenance appalled, and thy stout words turned into speech- less sUence, or dreadful cries ; if God had but set thee thus at his bar, and pleaded his own cause vnih thee, which thou hast here so maUciously pleaded against ! How easily can he, at any time, say to thy guilty soul. Come away, and hve in that flesh no longer, till the resurrection, and it cannot resist ! A word of his mouth would take off" the noise of thy present Ufe, and then all thy parts and powers would stand still ; and if he say unto thee, Live no longer, or, Live in hell, thou couldst not disobey. But God hath yet done none of this ; but hath patiently A CALL TO THE UNCONTERTED. 105 forborne thee, and mercifiilly upheld thee, and given thee that breath which thou didst breathe out against him, and given those mercies which thou didst sacrifice to the flesh, and afforded thee that provision which thou spentest to satisfy thy greedy throat : he gave thee every minute of that time which thou didst waste in idleness, and drunkenness, or worldliness. And doth not all his patience and mercy shew that he desired not thy damnation? Can the lamp bum without the oil ? Can your houses stand without the earth to bear them ? As well as you can live one hour without the support of God. And why did he so long support thy hfe, but to see when thou wouldst bethink thee of the folly of thy ways, and return and live? Will any man purposely put arms into his enemy's hands to resist him? Or hold a candle to a mm'derer that is killing his children ? or to an idle servant that plays and sleeps the while ? Surely it is to see whether thou vdlt at last return and Uve, Siat God has so long waited on thee. 5. It is further proved by the sufferings of his Son that God taketh no pleasure in the death of the wicked. Would he have ransomed them fi'om death at so dear a rate ? Would he have astonished angels and men by his condescension ? Would God have dwelt in flesh, and have come in the form of a servant, and have assumed humanity into one person with the Godhead ? And would Christ have hved a hfe of suffermg, and died a cursed death for sinners, if he had rather taken pleasure in their death ? Suppose you saw him but so busy in preaching and heaUng of them, as you find him in Mark iii. 21 ; or so long in fastmg, as in Matt. iv. ; or all night in prayer, as in Luke \i. 12 ; or praying with drops of blood trickling from hun instead of sweat, as Luke xxii. 44 ; or suffering a cursed death upon the cross, and pom-ing out his soul as a sacrifice for our sins ; would you have thought these the signs of one that delighteth m the death of the wicked ? And think not to extenuate it by sa^'ing, that it was only for his elect. For it was thy sin, and the sin of all the world, that lay upon our Redeemer ; and his sacrifice and 106 A CALL TO THE L^'CONVERTED. satisfaction is sufficient for all, and the finiits of it are offered to one as well as another ; but it is true that it was never the intent of his niind, to pardon and save any that would not by faith and repentance be converted. J£ you had seen and heard him weeping and bemoaning the state of disobe- dience in impenitent people, Luke xix. 41, 42, or complain- ing of their stubbornness, as !Matt. xxiii. 37, " O Jerusa- lem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy chil- dren together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! " Or if you had seen and heard him on the cross, prapng for his persecutors, " Father, for- give them, for they know not what they do ; " would you have suspected that he had delighted in the death of the wicked, even of those that perish by their wilful unbehef ? T^^len " God hath so loved" (not only loved, but so loved " the world as to give his only begotten Son, that whoso- ever beheveth in him" (by an effectual faith) " should not perish, but have everlasting life," I think he hath hereby proved, against the maHce of men and de\ils, that he takes no pleasm-e in the death of the wicked, but had rather that they would turn and live. 6. Lastly, Jf all this will not yet satisfy you, take his own word, that knoweth best his own mind ; or at least beheve his oath. But this leadeth me up to the fourth doctrine. Doct. IV. The Lord hath confirmed it to us by his oath, that he hath no pleasm-e in the death of the wicked, but rather that he turn and live ; that he may leave man no pretence to question the truth of it. If you dare question his word, I hope you dare not ques- tion his oath. As Christ hath solemnly protested, that the unregenerate and unconverted cannot enter into the king- dom of heaven, in Matt. x\m. 3 ; John iii. 3 ; so God hath sworn, that his pleasure is not in their death, but in their conversion and Hfe. And as the apostle saith, Heb. \i. 13, 16-18, " Because he can swear by no gi-eater than himself, he saith. As I Uve, &c. For men verily swear by the greater, and an oath for confirmation is to them an end of all stnfe. AMierein God, willing more abundantly to shew unto the A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 107 heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath : that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong con- solation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before us ; which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast." If there be any man that cannot reconcile this truth with the doctrine of predestination, or the actual damnation of the wicked, that is his own igno- rance ; he hath no pretence left to deny or question there- fore the truth of the point in hand ; for this is confirmed by the oath of God, and therefore must not be distorted, to re- duce it to other points ; but doubtful points must rather be reduced to it, and certain truths must be beHeved to agree with it, though our shallow brains do hardly discern the agreement. Use. I do entreat thee, if thou be an unconverted sinner that hearest these words, that thou wouldst ponder a little upon the forementioned doctrines, and bethink thyself awhile, who it is that takes pleasure in thy sin and damnation. Certainly it is not God. He hath sworn for his part, that he takes no pleasure in it. And I know it is not the pleas- ing of liim that you intend in it. You dare not say that you drink and swear, and neglect holy duties, and quench the motions of the Spirit, to please God. That were as if you should reproach the prince, and break his laws, and seek his death, and say, you did all this to please him. Who is it then that takes pleasure in your sin and death ? Not any that bear the image of God, for they must be like- minded to him. God knows, it is small pleasure to your faithful teachers, to see you serve your deadly enerny, and madly venture your eternal state, and wilfully run into the flames of hell. It is small pleasure to them, to see upon your souls (in the sad effects) such bUndness, and hard- heartedness, and carelessness, and presumption ; such wil- fulness in evil, and such uncharitableness, and stiffness against the ways of life and peace : they know these are marks of death, and of the wrath of God, and they know, from the word of God, what is like to be the end of them ; and there- 108 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. fore it is no more pleasure to them, than to a tender physi- cian to see the plague-marks break out upon his patient. Alas ! to foresee yoiu* everlasting torments, and know not how to prevent them ! To see how near you are to hell, and we cannot make you believe it, and consider it ! To see how easily, how certainly you might escape, if we knew but how to make you -willLng ! How fair you are for everlasting salvation, if you would but turn and do yom* best, and make it the care and business of your Hves ! But you vnH not do it ; if our lives lay on it, we cannot persuade you to do it. We study day and night what to say to you, that may con- vince you, and persuade you, and yet it is undone : we lay before you the word of God, and shew you the very chapter and verse where it is written, that you cmmot be saved ex- cept you be converted ; and yet we leave the most of you as we find you : we hope you will beUevc the word of God, though you believe not us, and that you ^vill regard it when we shew you plain Scripture for it ; but we hope in vain, and labour in vain, as to any saving change upon your hearts. And do } 0U think that this is a pleasant thing to us ? [Many a time in secret prayers we ai-e fain to complain to God with sad hearts, Alas, Lord, we have spoken it tp them, in thy name, but they little regard us ; we have told them what thou bidst us tell them, concerning the danger of an uncon- verted state, but they do not beheve us ; we have told them that thou hast protested, " That there is no peace to the wicked," Isa. xlxm. 22 ; h-ii. 21 ; but the worst of them all will scarcely beheve that they are wicked : we have shewed them the word, where thou hast said, That if they Hve after the tlesh they shall die," Rom. \m. 13 ; but they say, they will beheve in thee, when they will not believe thee ; and that they will trust in thee, when they give no credit to thy word ; and when they hope that the threatenings of thy word are false, they will yet call this a hoping in God ; and though we shew them where thou hast said, That when a wicked man dieth, all his hopes perish," Prov. xi. 7, yet can- not we persuade them from theu- deceitful hopes. AVe tell them what a base, improfitable thing sin is, but they love it, A CALL TO THE ITNCOirVEIlTED. 109 and therefore will not leave it. We tell them how dear they buy their pleasure, and what they must pay for it in ever- lasting torment, and they bless themselves and will not beheve it, but will do as the most do ; and because God is mercillil, they will not believe him, but \vill venture then* souls, come on it what Avill. We tell them how ready the Lord is to receive them ; and this does but make them delay their repentance, and be bolder in their sin. Some of them say, they purpose to repent, but they are stiU the same ; and some say, they do repent already, while yet they are not converted from their sins. We exhort them, we entreat them, we offer them our help, but we cannot prevail with them, but they that were ch'imkards are drunkards still ; and they that were voluptu- ous, flesh-pleasing wretches, are such still ; and they that were worldlings are worldlings still ; and they that were ignorant, proud, and self- conceited, are so still. Few of them Avill see and confess their sin, and fewer will forsake it, but comfort themselves that all men are sinners ; as if there were no difference between a converted sinner and an unconverted. Some of them will not come near us when we are willing to instruct them, but think they know enough already, and need not our instruction ; and some of them will give us the hearing, and do what they list ; and most of them are like dead men that cannot feel ; so that when we tell them of the matters of everlasting consequence, we cannot get a word of it to their hearts. If we do not obey them, and humour them in baptizing children of the most obstinately wicked, and giving them the I>ord's supper, and doing all that they would have us, though never so much against the word of God, they will hate us, and rail at us ; but if we beseech them to confess and forsake their sins, and save their souls, they "will not do it. We tell them, if they will but turn, we will deny them none of the ordinances of God, neither baptism to their children, nor the Lord's sup- per to themselves ; but they "will not hear us : they would have us to disobey God, damn our souls to please them, and yet they "will not turn, and save their own souls to please God. They are wiser in their own eyes than all their 110 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. teachers ; they rage, and are confident in their own way ; and if we would never so fain, we cannot change them. Lord, this is the case of our miserable neighbours, and we cannot help it ; we see them ready to drop into hell, and we cannot help it : we know if they would imfeignedly turn, they might be sayed ; but we cannot persuade them : if we would beg it of them on our knees, we cannot persuade them to it ; if we woul4 beg it of them with tears, we cannot per- suade them : and what more can we do ? These ai-e the secret complaints and moans that many a poor minister is fain to make ; and do you think that he hath any pleasure in this ? Is it a pleasure to him to see you go on in sin and cannot stop you ? to see you so miserable, and cannot so much as make you sensible of it ? to see you merry, when you are not sure to be an hour out of hell ? to think what you must for eyer suffer because you will not tum ? and to think what an everlasting life of glorj' you wilfully despise and cast away ? "NMiat sadder things can you bring to their hearts, and how can you de^'ise to grieve them more ? Vilio is it then that you pleasm-e by your sin and death ? It is none of your understanding, godly fiiends. Alas, it is the grief of their soids to see your miseri-, and they lament you many a time, when you give them Httle thanks for it, and when you have not hearts to lament yourselves. AVho is it then that takes pleasure in yoiu' sin ? It is none but the three gi-eat enemies of God, whom you re- nounced in yoiu* baptism, and now are turned falsely to serve. 1. The dexil, indeed, takes pleasure in your sin and death ; for this is the very end of all his temptations : for this he watches night and day : you cannot de\-ise to please him better, than to go on in sin. How glad is he when he sees thee going to the alehouse, or other sin ; and when he heareth thee curse, or swear, or rail ! How glad is he when he heareth thee revile the minister that would draw thee from thy sin, and help to save thee ! These are his de- light. A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. Ill 2. The wicked are also delighted in it, for it is agreeable to their nature. 3. But I know, for all this, that it is not the pleasing of the devil that you intend, even when you please him ; but it is your own flesh, the greatest and most dangerous enemy, that you intend to please. It is the flesh that would be pampered, that would be pleased in meat, and drink, and clothing, that would be pleased in yom- company, and pleased in applause and credit with the world, and pleased in sports, and lusts, and idleness; this is the gulf that de- voureth all. This is the very god that you serve ; for the Scripture saith of such, " that their bellies are their god," Phil. iH. 18. But I beseech you stay a Httle and consider the business. 1. Quest. Should yom' flesh be pleased before your Maker ? Will you displease the Lord, and displease your teacher, and your godly friends, and all to please your brut- ish appetites, or sensual desires ? Is not God worthy to be a ruler of your flesh ? if he shall not rule it, he will not save it ; you cannot in reason expect that he should. 2. Quest. Your flesh is pleased with your sin ; but is your conscience pleased ? Doth not it grudge within you, and tell you sometimes that all is not well, and that your case is not so safe as you make it to be ? And should not your souls and consciences be pleased before that corrup- tible flesh ? 3. Quest. But is not your flesh preparing for its own dis- pleasure also ? It loves the bait, but doth it love the hook ? It loves the strong drink and sweet morsels ; it loves its ease, and sport, and merriment ; it loves to be rich, and well spoken of by men, and to be somebody in the world ; but doth it love the curse of God ? Doth it love to stand trembling before his bar, and to be judged to everlasting fire ? Doth it love to be tormented with the devils for ever ? Take aU together ; for there is no separating sin and hell, but only by faith and true conversion ; if you will keep one, you must have the other. If death and heU be pleasant to thee, no wonder then if thou go on in sin ; but 112 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. if they be not (as I am Bure they be not), then what if sin be never so pleasant, is it worth the loss of life eternal ? Is a little drink, meat, ease, the good word of sinners, or the riches of this world, to be valued above the joys of heaven ? or are they worth the sufferings of eternal fire? Su's, these questions should be considered, before you go any farther, by every man that hath reason to consider, and that believes he hath a soul to save or lose. Well, the Lord here sweareth that he hath no pleasure in your death, but rather that you would turn and Uve : if yet you will go on and die, rather than tm-n, remember it was not to please God that you did it, it was to please the world, and to please yourselves. And if men will damn themselves to please themselves, and run into endless tor- ments for delight, and have not the wit, the heart, the grace to hearken to God or man that would reclaim them, what remedy ? But they must take what they get by it, and re- pent in another manner, when it is too late. Before I pro- ceed any farther in the appUcation, I shall come to the next doctrine ; which giveth a fuller ground for it. Doct. V. So earnest is God for the conversion of sinners, that he doubleth his commands and exhortations with vehe- mency ; " Turn ye, tm-n ye, why will ye die?" This doctrine is the application of the former, as by a use of exhortation, and accordingly I shall handle it. Is there ever an imconverted sinner, that heareth these vehement words of God ? Is there ever a man or woman in this as- sembly, that is yet a sti'anger to the renewing, sanctifk-ing works of the Holy Ghost ? (It is a happy assembly if it be not so ^vith the most). Hearken then to the voice of your Maker, and turn to him by Christ without delay. Would you know the will of God ? "SVhy this is his TviU. that you presently turn. Shall the living God send so earnest a mes- sage to his creatures, and should they not obey? Hearken then, all you that hve after the flesh ; the Lord that gave thee thy breath and being, hath sent a message to thee fi*om heaven, and this is his message, " Turn ye, turn ye, why wiU ye die?" " He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." A CALL TO THE UKCONA'ERTED. 113 Shall the voice of the Eternal Majesty be neglected ? If he do but terribly thunder, thou art afraid ; O but this voice doth more nearly concern thee : if he do but tell thee thou shalt die to-morrow, thou wouldst not make light of it ; O but this word concemeth thy life or death everlasting ! It is both a command and an exhortation : as if he said to thee, I charge thee upon the allegiance thou owest to me thy Creator and Redeemer, that thou renounce the flesh, the world, and the devil, and turn to me that thou mayest live. I condescend to entreat thee, as thou lovest or fearest him that made thee, as thou lovest thine own life, even thine everlasting life, turn and Uve ; as ever thou wouldst escape eternal miser\-, turn, turn, " for why wilt thou die?" And is there a heaii; in man, in a reasonable creature, that can once refuse such a message, such a command, such an ex- hortation as this ? Oh what a thing then is the heart of man ! Hearken then, all that love yourselves, and all that re- gard your own salvation. Here is the most jo}'ful message that ever was sent to the ears of man, Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die ? " You are not yet shut up under despera- tion. Here is mercy ofiered you ; turn and you shall have it. 0 sirs, with what glad and jo)-ful hearts should you receive these tidings ! I know that this is not the first time that you have heard it : but how have you regarded it, or how do you regard it now ? Hear, all you ignorant, careless sin- ners, the word of the Lord ! Hear, all you worldlings, you sensual flesh-pleasers, you gluttons and drunkards, and whoremongers and swearers, you railers and backbiters, slanderers and Hars ; " Turn ye, turn ve, why Avill ye die ? " ' . Hear, all you cold and outside professors, and all that are strangers to the life of Christ, and never knew the power of his cross and resm-rection, and never felt your hearts warmed with his love, and Uve not on him as the strength of your souls ; " Turn ye, turn ye, why -svill ye die ? " Hear, all that are void of the love of God, Avhose hearts are not towards him, nor taken up mth the hopes of glory, H 114 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. but set more by your earthly prosperity and delights, than by the joys of heaven ; you that are reUgious but a Httle on the bye, and give God no more than your flesh can spare ; that have not denied your carnal selves, and forsaken all that you have for Christ, in the estimation and grounded resolution of your souls ; but have some one thing in the world so dear to you, that you cannot spare it for Christ, if he requires it, but -mil rather even ventm-e on his displea- sure, than forsake it ; " Turn ve, turn ye, why -vvill ye die?" If you never heard it or obsers-ed it before, remember that ye were told it from the word of God this day, that if you will but turn, you may live ; and if you will not turn, you shall sm-ely die. "\Miat now will you do, sirs ? What is your resolution ? Will you turn, or wiU you not ? Halt not any longer be- tween two opinions : if the Lord be God, follow him ; if yom* flesh be God, then serve it still. K heaven be better than earth and fleshly pleasures, come away then and seek a better country, and lay up your treasure where rust and moths do not corrupt, and thieves cannot break through and steal, and be awakened at last with all your might to seek the kingdom that cannot be moved, Heb. xii. 28 ; and to employ your lives on a higher design, and turn the stream of your cares and labours another way than formerly you have done : but if eai-th be better than heaven, or will do more for you, or last you longer, then keep it and make your best of it, and follow it still. Sirs, are you resolved what to do ? If you be not, I wUl set a few more moving considera- tions before you, to see if reason will make you resolve. Consider, first, what preparations mercy hath made for your salvation ; and what pity it is that any man should be damned after all this. The time was, when the flaming sword was in the way, and the curse of God's law would have kept thee back, if thou hadst been never so willing to turn to God : the time was, when thyself, and all the friends that thou hadst in the world, could never have procured thee the pardon of thy sins past, though thou hadst never A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 115 SO much lamented, and refonned them. But Chnst hath removed this impediment by the ransom of his blood. The time was, that God was wholly unreconciled, as being not satisfied for the violation of his law ; but now he is so far satisfied and reconciled, as that he hath made thee a fi'ee act of obH\'ion, and a fi:'ee deed of the gift of Christ and life, and oflereth it to thee, and entreateth thee to accept it, and it may be thine if thou wilt. For, " He was in Christ reconcihng the world unto himself, and hath committed to us the word of actual reconciliation," 2 Cor. v. 18, 19. Sinners, we are commanded to do this message to you all, as from the Lord. " Come, for all things are ready," Luke xiv. 17. Are all things ready, and are you unready? God is ready to entertain you and pardon all that you have done against him, if you will but come. As long as you have sinned, as wilfully as you have sinned, as heinously as you have sinned, he is ready to cast all behind his back, if you will but come. Though you have been prodigals, and run away from God, and have staid so long, he is ready even to meet you, and embrace you in his arms, and rejoice in your conversion, if you ■svill but turn. Even the earthly worldling and swinish drunkard may find God ready to bid him welcome, if they will but come. Doth not this turn thy heart within thee ? O sinner, if thou hast a heart of flesh, and not of stone in thee, metliinks this should melt it. Shall the dreadful infinite Majesty of heaven, even wait for thy returning, and be ready to receive thee who hast abused him, and forgotten him so long ? shall he delight in thy con- version, that might at any time glorify his justice in thy damnation ? and doth it not yet melt thy heart "v\athin thee, and art thou not yet ready to come in ? Hast thou not as much reason to be ready to come, as God hath to invite thee and bid thee welcome ? But that is not all ; Christ hath done his part on the cross, and made such a way for thee to the Father, that on his account thou mayest be welcome, if thou wilt come ; and yet art thou not ready ? 116 A CALL TO THE UXCOXVERTED. A pardon is already expressly granted, and offered thee in the gospel : sad yet art thou not ready ? The ministers of the gospel are ready to assist thee, to in- struct thee, and pronounce the absolving -words of peace to thy soul : they are ready to pray for thee, and to seal np thy pardon by the administration of the holy sacrament; and yet art thou not ready ? All that fear Grod about thee, are ready to rejoice in thy conversion, and to receive thee into the commimion of saints, and to give thee the right hand of fellowship, yeii, though thou hadst been one that had been cast out of their society: they dare not but forgive where God forgiveth. when it is manitest to them by thy confession and amendment : they dare not so much as hit thee in the teeth with thy former sins, because they know that God will not upbraid thee with them. If thou hadst been never so scandalous, if thou wouldst but heartily be converted and come in, they would not refuse thee, let the world say what they would against it. And are all these ready to receive thee, and yet art thou not ready to come in ? Yea, heaven itself is ready : the Lord wiU recerre thee into the glory of the saints, as vile a beast as thou hast been, if thou wilt but be cleansed thou mapt have a place before his throne : his angels will be ready to guard thy soul to the place of joy. if thou do but unfeignedly come in. And is God ready, the sacrifice of Christ ready, the promise ready, and jjardon ready : are ministers ready, the people of God ready, and heaven itself re^idy. and angels ready^ and all these, but waiting for thy conversion, and yet art thou not ready ? "\Miat ! not ready to live, when thou hast been dead so long ? not ready to come to thy right understanding (as the prodigal is said to come to himselfi, Luke XV. 17). when thou hast been beside thyself so long? not ready to be saved, when thou art even ready to be con- demned ? Art thou not ready to lay hold on Christ that would deliver thee^ when thou art even ready to drown, and sink into damnation ? Art thou not ready to be saved fix>m hell, when thou art even ready to be cast remedilen A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 117 into it ; alas ! man, dost thou know what thou dost ? If thou die unconverted, there is no doubt to be made of thy dam- nation : and thou art not sure to live an hour ; and yet art thou not ready to turn, and to come in? O miserable wretch ! hast thou not served the flesh and the devil long enough ? Yet hast thou not enough of sin ? Is it so good to thee, or so profitable for thee ? Dost thou know what it is, that thou wouldst yet have more of it ? Hast thou had so many calls, and so many mercies, and so many blows, and so many examples, hast thou seen so many laid in the grave, and yet art thou not ready to let go thy sins, and come to Christ ? What ! after so many convictions, and gripes of conscience, after so many purposes and promises, art thou not yet ready to turn and live? Oh that thy eyes, thy heart were opened, to know how fair an offer is now made to thee ! and what a jo}ful message it is that we are sent on, to bid thee come, for all things are ready ! 2. Consider, also, what calls thou hast to turn and Hve ; how many, how loud, how earnest, how dreadful, and yet what encouraging, joyful calls. For the principal Inviter, it is God himself He that commandeth heaven and earth, commandeth thee to turn; and presently, without delay, to turn. He commandeth the sun to run its course, and to rise upon thee every morning ; and though it be so glorious a creature, and many times bigger than all the earth, yet it obeyeth him, and faileth not one minute of its appointed time. He commandeth all the planets and orbs of heaven, and they obey. He com- mandeth the sea to ebb and flow, and the whole creation to keep its course, and all they obey him. The angels of heaven obey his will, when he sends them to minister to such silly worms as we on earth, Heb. i. 14. And yet if he command but a sinner to turn, he -vvill not obey him : he only thinks himself wiser than God, and he cavils and pleads the cause of sin, and will not obey. If the Lord Almighty says the word, the heavens and all therein obey him ; but if he call a drunkard out of an ale-house he will not obey ; or if lie call a worldly, fleshly sinner to deny 118 A CALL TO THE UNCONA* ERTED. himself, and mortify the flesh, and set his heart on a better inheritance, he will not obey. K thou hadst any love in thee, thou wouldst know the voice, and say, O this is my Father's call ! How can T find in my heart to disobey ? For the sheep of Christ do " know and hear his voice ; and they follow him, and he giveth them eternal life," John xii. 4. If thou hast any spiritual life and sense in thee, at least thou wouldst say, This call is the dreadful voice of God. and who dare disobey ? For saith the prophet, " The Hon hath roared, who -will not fear?" Amos iii. 8. God is not a man that thou shouldst dally and play with him. Remember what he said to Paul at his conversion, " It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks," Acts ix. 5. Wilt thou yet go on and despise his word, and resist his Spirit, and stop thine ears against his call ? "WTio is it that will have the worst of this ? Dost thou know whom thou disobeyest and contendest -wdth, and what thou art doing ? It were a far wiser and easier task for thee to contend with the thorns, and spurn them with thy bare feet, and beat them with thy bare hands, or put thy head into the burning fire. " Be not deceived, God will not be mocked," Gal. \i. 7. AVhosoever else maybe mocked, God will not ; you had better play with the fire in your thatch, than v.'ith the fire of his bmning wrath in your soul. " For our God is a consuming fire," Heb. xii. 29. Oh how unmeet a match art thou for God ! "It is a fearful thing to fall into his hands," Heb. x. 31 ; and therefore it is a fearful thing to contend with him, or resist him. As you love your own souls, take heed what you do. liMiat ^yi]l you say if he begin in wi-ath to plead with you? "WTiat will you do if he take you once in hand ? Will you then strive against his judgment, as now you do against his grace? Saith the Lord, " Fury is not in me ;" that is, I dehght not to destroy, I do it as it were unwillingly : but yet, " ^Vho would set the briers and thorns against me in battle? I would go thi'ough them, I would burn them to- gether. Or let him take hold of my strength, that he may make peace with me, and Le shall make peace with me," A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 119 Isa. xxvii. 4, 6. It is an unequal combat for the briers and stubble to make war with the fire. And thus you see who it is that calleth you, that should move you to hear this call, and turn: so consider also, by what instruments, and how often, and how earnestly he doth it. 1 . Every leaf of the blessed book of God hath, as it were, a voice, and calls out unto thee, Turn and live, turn or thou wilt die." How canst thou open it, and read a leaf, or hear a chapter, and not perceive God bids thee turn ? 2. It is the voice of every sermon thou hearest ; for what else is the scope and drift of all, but to call, and per- suade, and entreat thee to turn ? 3. It is the voice of many a motion of the Spirit, that secretly speaks over these words again, and urgeth thee to turn. 4. It is hkely sometimes it is the voice of thy own con- science. Art thou not sometimes convinced, that all is not well with thee ; and doth not thy conscience tell thee, that thou must be a new man, and take a new course, and often call upon thee to return ? 5. It is the voice of the gracious examples of the godly. When thou seest them Hve a heavenly life, and fly fi'om the sin which is thy delight, this really calls upon thee to turn. 6. It is the voice of all the works of God. For they also are God's books that teach thee this lesson, by she\v'ing thee his greatness, and wisdom, and goodness, and calling thee to observe them, and admire the Creator, " The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handy work ; day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge," Psal. xix. 1, 2. Every time the sun riseth upon thee, it really calleth thee to turn ; as if it should say. What do I travel and compass the world for, but to declare to men the glory of their Maker, and to light them to do his work? And do I still find thee doing the work of sin, and sleeping out thy life in negligence? ''Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light," Eph. v. 14. " The night is far spent, the day is at hand. It is now high time to awake out of sleep. 120 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. Let us, therefore, cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light. Let us walk honestly, as in the day ; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying ; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fullii tlie lasts thereof," Rom. xiii. 11-14. (This text was the means of Augustine's conversion. I pray God it maybe yours.) 7. It is the voice of every mercy thou dost possess. If thou couldst but hear and understand them, they all cry out imto thee. Turn. Why doth the earth bear thee, but to seek and serve the Lord? Why doth it afford thee fruit, but to serve him ? Why doth the air afford thee breath, but to serve him? "VMiy do all the creatures serve thee with their labours, and their Uves, but that thou mightest serve the Lord of them and thee ? Why doth he give thee time, and health, and strength, but to serve him? TVTiy hast thou meat, di'ink, and clothes, but for his service? Hast thou any thing which thou hast not received ? And if thou didst receive them, it is reason thou shouldst bethink thee from whom, and to what end and use, thou didst re- ceive them. Didst thou never cry to him for help in thy distress ? And didst thou not then understand that it was thy part to turn and serve liim if he would deliver thee ? He hath done his part, and spared thee yet longer, and tried thee another and another year, and yet thou dost not turn. You know the parable of the unfruitful fig-tree, Luke xiii. 6-9. When the Lord had said, " Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground ? " he was entreated to try it one year longer, and then, if it proved not fruitful, to cut it down. Christ himself there makes the application twdce over, " Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish," ver. 3,5. How many years hath God looked for the fruits of love and holiness from thee, and hath found none ? and yet hath spared thee. How many times, by thy wilful igno- rance, carelessness, and disobedience, hast thou provoked justice to say, " Cut him down, -why cumbereth he the ground ? " and yet mercy hath prevailed, and patience hath forborne the killing, damning blow to this day. If thou A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 121 hadst the understanding of a man within thee, thou wouldst know that all this calleth thee to turn. " Dost thou think thou shalt still escape the judgment of God ? Or dcspisest thou the riches of his goodness, forbearance, and long-sufler- ing ; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance ? But after thy hardness and impenitent heart, treasurest up unto thj^self -\vrath against the day of An-ath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of God ; who will render to every one according to his deeds," Kom. ii. 3-6. 8. Moreover, it is the voice of every affliction, to call thee to make haste and turn. Sickness and pain cry, Turn. Poverty, the loss of friends, and every twig of the chastising rod, cry, Tm-n ; and yet wilt thou not hearken to the call V These have come near thee, and made thee feel. They have made thee groan, and can they not make thee turn ? 9. The very frame of thy nature and being itself be- speaketh thy return. AVliy hast thou reason, but to rule thy flesh, and serve thy Lord ? AVhy hast thou an under- standing soul, but to learn and know his will, and do it? Why hast thou a heart within thee that can love, fear, and desire, but that thou shouldst fear him, and love him, and desire after him ? 10. Yea, thine own engagements by promise to the Lord do call upon thee to turn and serve him. Thou hast bound thyself to him by a baptismal covenant, and renounced the world, the flesh, and the devil ; this thou hast confirmed by the profession of Christiauity, and renewed it at sacra- ments, and in times of affliction. And wilt thou promise, and vow, and never }>erform, and turn to God ? Lay all these together now, and see what should be the issue. The holy Scriptures call upon thee to turn ; the ministers of Christ do call upon thee to turn ; the Spirit cries. Turn ; thy conscience cries. Turn ; the godly, by per- suasions and examples, cry, Turn ; the whole world, and all the creatures therein that are presented to thy consideration, cry, Turn ; the patient forbearance of God cries, Turn ; all the mercies which thou receivest cry, Turn ; the rod of God's chastisement cries. Turn ; thy reason and the frame 122 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. of thy nature bespeaks thy turning ; and so do all thy pro- mises to God : and yet art thou not resolved to turn ? 3. Moreover, poor hard-hearted sinner, didst thou ever consider upon -what terms thou standest all this while with him that calleth thee to turn ? Thou art his own, and owest him thyself, and all thou hast ; and may he not command his own ? Thou art his absolute servant, and shouldst serve no other master. Thou standest at his mercy, and thy life is in his hand ; and he is resolved to save thee upon no other terms. Thou hast many malicious spiritual enemies, that would be glad if God would but forsake thee, and let them alone with thee, and leave thee to their will ; how quickly would they deal with thee in another manner I And thou canst not be delivered from them but by turning vmto God. Thou art fallen under his wrath by thy sin abeady ; and thou knowest not how long liis patience wUl yet wait. Perhaps this is the last year ; perhaps the last day. His sword is even at thy heart, while the word is in thine ear ; and if thou turn not, thou art a dead and undone man. Were thy eyes but open to see where thou standest, even upon the brink of hell, and to see how many thousands are there already that did not turn, thou wouldst see that it is time to look about thee. "Well, sirs, look inwards now, and tell me how are your hearts affected with these offers of the Lord. You hear what is his mind ; he delighteth not in your death. He calls to you, Turn, turn ; it is a feai-ful sign, if all this move thee not, or if it do but half move thee ; and much more if it make thee more careless in thy misery, because thou hearest of the mercifulness of God. The workhig of the medicine partly tell us, whether there be any hope of the cure. Oh what glad tidings would it be to those that are now in hell, if they had but such a message from God ! 'WTiat a joyful word would it be to hear this. Turn and live ! Yea, what a welcome word would it be to thyself, when thou hast felt that wrath of God but an hour ; or, if after a thousand, and ten thousand years' torment, thou couldst but hear such a word fi-om God, Turn and live ! and yet A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 123 wilt thou neglect it, and suffer us to return witliout our er- rand ? Behold, sinners, we are set here as the messengers of the Lord, to set before you life and death ; what say you, which of them Avill you choose ? Christ standeth, as it were, by thee, with heaven in one hand, and hell in the other, and olfereth thee thy choice ; which -svilt thou choose ? The voice of the Lord maketh the rocks to tremble. See Psal. xxix. And is it nothing to hear him threaten thee, if thou wilt not turn ? Dost thou not understand and feel this voice, "Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die?" ^Vhy, it is the voice of love, of infinite love, of thy best and kindest Friend, as thou mightest easily perceive by the motion, and yet canst thou neglect it ? It is the voice of pity and com- passion. The Lord seeth whether thou art going better than thou dost, which makes him call after thee, Turn, turn. He seeth what will become of thee, if thou turn not : he thinketh with himself. Ah this poor sinner will cast himself into endless torment, tf he do not turn ; I must in justice deal with him according to my righteous law : and therefore he calleth after thee, Turn, turn. O sinner ! if thou didst but know the thousandth part as well as God doth, the dan- ger that is near you, and the misery that you are running into, we should have no more need to call after you to turn. Morepver, this voice that calleth to thee, is the same that hath prevailed with thousands already, and called all to heaven that are now there ; and they would not now for a thousand worlds that they had made light of it, and not turned to God. Now what are they possessing that tiu-ned at God's call ? ISTow they perceive indeed that it was the voice of love, that meant them no more harm than their salvation. And if thou wilt obey the same call thou shalt come to the same happiness. There be millions that must for ever lament that they turned not, but there is never a soul in heaven that is sorry that they were converted. Well, sirs, are you yet resolved, or are you not ? Do I need to say any more to you, what wiU you do ? Will you 124 A CALL TO THE UNCOX^'ERTED. turn or not? Speak, man, in thy heart to God, though thou speak not out to me: speak, lest he take thy silence for a denial ; speak quickly, lest he never make thee the Hke of- fer more ; speak resolvedly, and not waveringly, for he will have no indifferents to be his followei*s. Say in thy heart now, without any more delay, even before you stii- hence, By the grace of God, I am resolved presently to turn. And because I know mine own insufficiency, I am resolved to wait on God for his grace, and follow him in his ways, and forsake my former courses and companions, and give up myself to the guidance of the Lord. Sirs, you are not shut up in the darkness of heathenism, nor in the desperation of the damned. Life is before you, and you may have it on reasonable terms if you wiU ; yea, on free-cost if you will accept it. The way of God Ueth plain before you, the church is open to you, and you may have Christ, pardon, and holiness, if ybu will. Whs\t say you ? Win you or will you not ? K you say nay, or say nothing, and still go on, God is witness, and this congi-ega- tion is witness, and yoiu* own consciences are witness, how fair an offer you had this day. Remember you might have Christ, and you would not. Remember, when you have lost it, that you might have had eteraal lile, as well as others, and would not : and all this because } ou would not tm'n ! But let us come to the next doctiine, and hpai' your reasons. Doct. Yl. The Loixl condescendeth to reason the case svith. miconverted sinnei-s, and to iisk them why they Avill die. A strange disputation it is, both as to the controvei"?y, and as to the disputants. 1. The controversy or question propounded to dispute of, is, VThy wicked men will damn themselves ? or, AMiether they will die rather than turn ? TMiether they have any sufficient reason for so doing ? 2. Tlie dis]3utants are God and man ; the most holy God, and wicked, miconverted sinners. A CALL TO THE TJNCONVERTED. 125 Is it not a strange thing -which God doth seem here to suppose, that any man should be willing to die, and he damned ; yea, that this should be the case of all the wicked ; that is, of the greatest part of the world ? But you will say. This cannot be ; for nature desireth the preservation and felicity of itself, and the wicked are more selfish than others, and not less ; and therefore how can any man be willing to be damned ? To which I answer, 1. It is a certain truth, that no man can be willing of any evil, as evil, but only as it hath some appearance of good ; much less can any man be willing to be eternally tormented. Misery, as such, is desired by none. 2. But yet for all that, it is most true, which God here teacheth us, that the cause why the wicked die and are damned, is, because they will die and be damned. And this is true in several respects. 1 . Because they will go the way that leads to hell, though they are told by God and man whither it goes and where it ends ; and though God hath so often professed in his word, that if they hold on in that way they shall be con- demned ; and that they shall not be saved unless they turn. " There is no peace (saith the Lord) unto the wicked," Isa. xlviii. 22 ; Ivii. 21. " The way of peace they know not ; there is no judgment in their going ; they have made them crooked patlis, whosoever goeth therein shall not know peace," Isa. lix. 8. They have the word and the oath of the living God for it, that if they will not turn, they shall not enter into his rest. And yet mcked they are, and wicked they will be, let God and man say what they will ; fleshly they are, and fleshly they will be, worldlings they are, and worldlings they will be, though God hath told them, that " the love of the world is enmity to God ; and that if any man love the world (in that measure) the love of the Father is not in him," James iv. 4 ; 1 John ii. 15. So that conseciuentially these men are willing to be damned, though not directly : they are -willing of the way to hell, and love the certain cause of their torment, though they be 126 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. not willing of hell itself, and do not love the pain which they must endure. Is not this the truth of your case, sirs ? You would not burn m hell, but you will kindle the fii'e by your sins, and cast yourselves into it ; you would not be tormented with devils in hell, but you will do that which will certainly pro- cure it in despite of all that can be said against it. It is just as if you would say, I will drink poison, but yet I will not die. I will cast myself headlong from the top of a steeple, but yet I will not kill myself. I will thrust my knife mto my heart, but yet I wiU. not take away my life. I will put this fire into the thatch of my house, but yet I will not burn it. Just so it is with wicked men ; they ■vvUl be wicked, and Hve after the flesh in the world, and yet they would not be damned. But do you not know, that the means do lead unto the end ? and that God hath by his righteous law concluded, that ye must repent or perish ? He that will take poison may as well say, I wUl kill myself, for it will prove no better m the end : though perhaps he loved it for the sweetness of the sugar that was mixed with it, and would not be persuaded it was poison, but that he might take it and do well enough ; but it is not his conceit and confidence that will save his life. So if you will be drunk- ards, or fornicators, or worldlings, or Hve after the flesh, you may as well say plauily, We will be damned ; for so you shall be unless you turn. Would you not rebuke the foUy of a thief or murderer that would say, I wiU steal or kill, but I will not be hanged ; when he knows, that if he do the one, the judge in justice will see that the other be done. Jf he says, I will steal and mmxler, he ma}- as well say plainly, I will be hanged ; so if you mtR go on in a car- nal life, you may as wcU say plainly, We "n-ill go to hell. 2. Moreover, the wicked -will not use those means without which there is no hope of their salvation : he that vnll not eat, may as well say plainly he will not hve, unless he can tell how to Hve without meat. He that wUl not go his journey, may as weU say plainly he will not come to the A CALL TO THE UNCONVKRTED. 127 end. He that falls into the water, and will not come out, nor suffer another to help him out, may as well say plainly he will be drowned. So if you be carnal and ungodly, and Y/ill not be converted, nor use the means by which you should be converted, but think it more ado than needs, you may as well say plainly you will be damned. For if you have found out a way to be saved Avithout conversion, you have done that which was never done before. 3. Yea, this is not all, but the "vvicked arc unwilling even of salvation itself. Though they may desire somewhat which they call by the name of heaven, yet heaven itself, consider- ed in the true nature of the feUcity, they desire not ; yea, their hearts are quite agahist it. Heaven is a state of per- fect holiness, and of continual love and praise to God, and the wicked have no heart to this. The imperfect love, praise, and hoHness which is here to be obtained, they have no mind of ; much less of that which is so much greater : the joys of heaven are of so pure and spu'itual a nature, that the heart of the wicked cannot truly desire them. So that by this time you may see on what ground it is that God supposeth that the wicked are willing of their own destruction : they will not turn, though they must turn or die. They will rather venture on certain misery, than be converted ; and then to quiet themselves in their sins, they will make themselves believe that they shall nevertheless escape. 2. And as the controversy is matter of wonder (that ever men should be such enemies to themselves, as Avilfully to cast away their souls), so are the disputants too : that God should stoop so low, as thus to plead the case Avith man ; and that man should be so strangely blind and ob- stinate as to need all this m so plain a case ; yea, and to re- sist all this, when their own salvation lieth upon the issue. No wonder if they will not hear us that are men, when they will not hear the Lord himself : as God saith, when he sent the prophet to the Israelites, ''The house of Israel will not hearken unto thee ; for they wUl not hearken unto me : for aU the house of Israel are impudent and hard-hearted," 128 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. Ezek. iii 7. ISio wonder if they can plead against a mi- nister, or a godly neighbour, when they will plead against the Lord himself, even against the plainest passages of liis word, and think they have reason on theu' side. When they weary the Lord with their words, they say, " Wherein have we wearied him?" Mai. ii. 7. The priests that de- spised his name, durst ask, " Wherein have we despised thy name?" And when they " polluted his altar, and made the tables of the Lord contemptible," they durst say, " Wherein have we polluted them?" Mai. ^i. 1, 7. But, "Woe unto him (saith the Lord) that striveth with his Maker ! Let the pot- sherds strive with the potsherds of the earth. Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou?" Isa. xlv. 9. Quest. But why is it that God will reason the case with man ? Answ. 1. Because that man, being a reasonable creature, is accordingly to be dealt with ; and by reason to be per- suaded and overcome. God hath therefore endowed them with reason, that they might use it for him. One would think a reasonable creature should not go against the clearest and greatest reason in the world, when it is set before him. 2. At least men shall see that God did require nothing of them that was unreasonable, but that whatever he com- mandeth them, and whatever he forbiddeth them, he hath all the right reason in the world on his side, and they have good reason to obey him, but none to disobey. And thus even the damned shall be forced to justify God, and confess that it was but reason that they should have turned to him ; and they shall be forced to condemn themselves, and con- fess that they have little reason to cast away themselves by the neglecting of his gi'ace in the day of their visitation. Use. Look up your best and strongest reasons, sinners, if you will make good your way : you see now with whom you have to deal. What sayest thou, unconverted, sensual wretch ? Darest thou venture upon a dispute with God ? Art thou able to confute him ? Art thou ready to enter the lists? God asketh thee, Why wilt thou die? Art thou A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 129 furnished with a sufficient answer? Wilt thou undertake to prove that God is mistaken, and that thou art in the right ? Oh what an undertaking is that ! Why either he or you is mistaken, when he is for your conversion, and you are against it. He calls upon you to turn, and you will not : he bids you do it presently, even to- day, while it is called to-day, and you delay, and think it time enough hereafter. He saith, it must be a total change, and you must be holy and new creatures, and born again ; and you think that less may serve the turn, and that it is enough to patch up the old man, without becoming new. Who is in the right now, God or you ? God calleth on you to turn, and to live a holy life, and you will not ; by your disobedient lives it appears you will not. If you will, why do you not ? Why have you not done it all this while ? And why do you not fall upon it yet ? Your wills have the command of your lives. We may certainly conclude, that you are unwilling to turn, when you do not turn. And why will you not? Can you give any reason for it, that is worthy to be called a reason ? I that am but a worm, your fellow-creature, of a shallow capacity, dare challenge the Avisest of you all to reason the case with me, while I plead my INIaker's cause I and I need not be discouraged, when I know I plead but the cause that God pleadeth, and contend for him that will have the best at last. Had I but these two general grounds against you, I am sure that you have no good reason on your side. 1. I am sure it can be no good reason, which is against the God of truth and reason ; it cannot be Hght that is con- trary to the sun. There is no knowledge m any creature, but what it had from God ; and therefore none can be wiser than God. It were damnable presumption for the highest angel to compare with his Creator ; what is it then for a lump of dirt, an ignorant sot, that knoweth not himself, nor his own soul ; that knoweth but httle of the things which he seeth, yea, that is more ignorant than many of his neigh- bours ; to set himself against the -svisdom of the Lord? It I 130 A CALL TO THE rNCONTERTED. is one of the ftillest discoveries of the horrible ■mckedness of carnal men, and the stark madness of such who sin, that so silly a mole dare contradict his Maker, and call in question the -word of God : yea, that those people in our parishes, that are so beastly ignorant, that they cannot give us a rea- sonable answer concerning the verj- principles of rehgion, are yet so wise in their own conceit, that they dare ques- tion the plainest truths of God, yea, contradict them, and caril against them, when they can scarce speak sense, and will believe them no farther than agi*eeth with their foolish wisdom. 2. And as I know that God must needs be in the right, so I know the case is so palpable and gross which he pleadeth against, that no man can have reason for it. Is it possible that a man can have any good reason to break his master's laws, and reason to dishonour the Lord of glory, and reason to abuse the Lord that bought him ? Is it possible that a man can have any good reason to damn his own immortal soul? Mai'k the Lord's question, Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die ? " Is eternal death a thing to be desired ? Are you in love with hell? What reason have you wilfully to perish ? K you think you have some reason to sin, should you not remember that " death is the wages of sin?" Rom. vi. 23. And think whether you have any reason to undo yourselves, body and soul, for ever ? You should not only ask whether you love the adder, but whether you love the sting. It is such a thing for a man to cast away his ever- lasting happiness, and to sin against God, that no good rea- son can be given for it ; but the more any one pleads for it, the more mad he sheweth himself to be. Had you a lord- ship or a kingdom offered to you for every sin that you commit, it were not reason but madness to accept it. Could you by every sin obtain the highest thing on earth that flesh desireth, it were of no considerable value to persuade you in reason to commit it. If it were to please your greatest and dearest fi-iends, or obey the greatest prince on earth, or to save your hves, or to escape the gi-eatest earthly misery, all these are of no consideration to draw a man in reason to A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 131 the committing of one sin. If it were a riglit hand or a right eye that would hinder your salvation, it would be the gaiiifullest way to cast it away, rather than go to heU to save it. For there is no saving a part, when you lose the whole. So exceeding great are the matters of eternity, that nothing in this world deserveth once to be named in comparison with them, nor can any earthly tlmig, though it were life, or crowns and kingdoms, be a reasonable excuse for matters of so high and everlasting consequence. A man can have no reason to cross liis ultimate end. Heaven is such a thing, that if you lose it, nothing can supply the want, or make up the loss. And hell is such a thing, that if you suffer it, nothing can remove your miser}-, or give you ease and com- fort. And therefore nothing can be a valuable considera- tion to excuse you for neglecting your own salvation. For saith our Sa\'iour, " ^\Tiat shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" Mark viii. 36. O sirs ! did you but know what matters they are we are now speaking to you of! The saints in heaven have other kind of thoughts of these things. If the devil could come to them that live in the sight and love of God, and should offer them a cup of ale, or a whore, or merry company, or sport, to entice them away from God and glory, I pray you tell me, how do you think they would entertain the motion ? Nay, if he should offer them to be kings on the earth, do you think this would entice them down from heaven ? Oh, with what hatred and holy scorn would they disdain and re- ject the motion ? and why should not you do so that have heaven opened to your faith, if you had but faith to see it? There is never a soul in hell, but knows by this time, that it was a mad exchange to let go heaven for fleshly pleasure ; and that it is not a little mirth, or pleasure, or worldly riches or honour, or the good will or the word of men, that will quench hell-fire, or make him a saver that loseth his soul. Oh if you had heard what I beUeve, if you had seen what I believe, and that on the credit of the word of God, you would say, there can be no reason to warrant a man to 132 A CALL TO THE rNCONVERTED. damn his soul ; you durst not sleep quietly another night, before you had resoh ed to turn and live. If you see a man put his hand into the fire till it burn off, you marvel at it ; but this is a thing that a man may have reason for, as Bishop Cranmer had when he burnt off his hand for subscribing to popery. If you see a man cut off a leg, or an arm, it is a sad si^ht ; but this is a thing a man may have good reason for ; as many a man doth to save his life. If you see a man give his body to be burned to ashes, and to be tormented with strappadoes and racks, and refuse deliverance when it is offered ; this is a hard case to flesh and blood. But this a man may have good reason for ; as you may see in Heb. xi. 33-36 ; and as many a hundi-ed mai*t}TS have done. But for a man to forsake the Lord that made him, and for a man to run into the fii'e of hell, when he is ,told of it, and entreated to turn, that he may bo saved ; this is a thing that can have no reason in the world, tliat is reason indeed, to justif}- or excuse is. For heaven will pay for the loss of any thing that we can lose to get it, or for any labour which we bestow for it. But nothing can pay for the loss of heaven. I beseech you now, let his word come nearer to your hearts. As you are convinced you have no reason to de- stroy yourselves, so tell me what reason you have to refuse to turn, and hve to God ; what reason hath the veriest worldling, or drunkard, or ignorant, careless sinner of you all, why you should not be as holy as any you know, and be as careful for your souls as any other? WiU not hell be as hot to you as to others? Should not your own souls be as dear to you, as theirs to them ? Hath not God as much authority over you ? "Why then wUl ye not become a sanctified people as well as they ? O sirs, when God bnngeth down the matter to the very principles of nature, and shews you that you have no more reason to be ungodly than you have to damn your own souls ; if yet you will not understand and turn, it seems a desperate case that you are in. A CALL TO THE L-NCOXN'ERTED. 133 And now either you have reasons for what you do, or you have not. If not, will you go on against reason itself? A^'ill you do that which you have no reason for ? But if you think you have, produce them, and make the best of your matter ; reason the case a little while with your fellow- creature, which is far easier than to reason the case with God. Tell me, man, here, before the Lord, as if thou wert to die this hour, why shouldst thou not resolve to turn this day, before thou stir fi'om the place thou standest in? VThsit reason hast thou to deny, or to delay? Hast thou any reasons that satisfieth thine own conscience for it ? or any that thou darest own and plead at the bar of God ? K thou hast, let us hear them, bring them forth, and make them good. But alas ! what poor stuff, what nonsense, in- stead of reasons, do we daily hear from ungodly men ! But for their necessity, I should be ashamed to name them. 1 . One saith, K none shall be saved but such converted and sanctified ones as you talk of, heaven would be but empty ; then God help a great many. Answ. A\'Tiat, it seems you think God doth not know, or else that he is not to be believed : measure not all by your- self; God hath thousands and millions of his sanctified ones ; but yet they are few in comparison of the world, as Christ himself hath told us in Matt. vii. 13, 14, and Luke xii. 32. It better beseems you to make that use of this truth which Christ teacheth you : Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; for strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it : but wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be that go in thereat," Luke xiii. 22-24. " And fear not, little flock (saith Christ to his sanctified ones), for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom," Luke xii. 32. Object. 2. I am sure if such as I go to hell, we shall have store of company. Answ. And will that be any ease or comfort to you ? or do you think you may not have company enough in heaven ? Will you be undone for company ? or wiU you not 134 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. believe that -God will execute his threatenings, because there are so many that are guilty? All these are silly, unreason- able conceits. Object. 8. But all men are sinners, even the best of you all. Answ. But all are not unconverted sinners. The godly live not in gross sins ; and then* very infirmities are their gi-ief and burden, which they daily long, and pray, and strive to be rid of. Sin hath not dominion over them. Object 4. I do not see that professors are any better than other men ; they will overreach and oppress, and are as co- vetous as any. Answ. "WTiatever h^-pocrites are, it is not so with those that are sanctified. God hath thousands and ten thousands that are other^vise, though the mahcious world doth ac- cuse them of what they can never prove, and of that which never entered into their hearts. And commonly they charge them with heart sins, which none can see but God ; because they can charge them with no such wickedness in their lives as they ai'e guDty of themselves. Object. 5. But I am no whoremonger, nor drunkard, nor oppressor ; and therefore why should you call upon me to be converted ? Answ. As if you were not born after the flesh, and had not lived after the flesh, as well as others. Is it not as great a sin as any of these, for a man to have an earthly mind, and to love the world above God, and to have a faithless, un- humbled heai't ? Nay, let me tell you more, that many per- sons that avoid disgraceful sins, are fast glued to the world, and as much slaves to the flesh, and as strange to God, and averse to heaven, in their more ci^'il com'se, as others are in their more shameful, notorious sins. Object. 6. But I mean nobody any harm, and do no harm ; and why then should God condemn me ? Ayisw. Is it no harm to neglect the Lord that made thee, and the work for which thou camest into the world, and prefer the creature before the Creator, and neglect grace that is daily oflered thee ? It is the depth of thy sinfulness, A CALL TO THE UXCON\'ERTED. 135 to be insensible of it. The dead feel not that they axe dead. If once thou wert made alive, thou wouldst see more amiss in thyself, and marvel at thyself for making so light of it. Object. 7 . I think you will make men mad under a pretence of converting them : it is enough to rack the brains of simple people, to muse so much on matters too high for them. Ansto. 1. Can you be madder than you are already? Or at least, can there be a more dangerous madness, than to neglect your everlasting welfare, and wilfully undo your- selves ? 2. A man is never well in his wits till he be converted ; he neither knows God, nor sin, nor Christ, nor the world, nor himself, nor what his business is on the earth, so as to set himself about it, till he be converted. The Scriptiu-e saith that the wicked are unreasonable men, 2 Thess. iii. 2 ; and that the wisdom of the world is foolishness vrith God," 1 Cor. i. 20 ; and Luke xv. 17, it is said of the pro- digal, " that when he came to himself," he resolved to return. It is a wise world when men will disobey God, and nm to hell for fear of being out of their wits ! 3. AMiat is there in the work that Christ calls you to, that should diive a man out of liis wits ? Is it the loAing of God, and calling upon him, and comfortable thinking of the glory to come, and the forsaking of our sins, and the lo\ing of one another, and delighting ourselves in the ser\'ice of God ? Are these such things as should make men mad? 4. And whereas you say, that these matters are too high for us, you accuse God himself for making this our work, and giving us his word, and commanding all that will be blessed, to meditate in it day and night. Are the matters which we are made for, and which we live for, too high for us to meddle with? This is plainly to unman us, and to make beasts of us, as if we were like to them that must meddle with no higher matters than what belongeth to flesh and earth. If heaven be too high for you to think on, and to provide for, it will be too high for you ever to possess. 136 A C-AXL TO THE UKCOXVEllTED. 5. If God should sometimes suffer any weak-headed per- son to be distracted by thinking of eternal things, this is be- cause they misunderstand them, and run without a guide. And of the two, I had rather be in the case of such a one, than of the mad, unconverted world, that take their dis- traction to be their wisdom. Object. 8. I do not think that God doth care so much what men think, or speak, or do, as to make so great a matter of it. Answ. It seems then, you take the word of God to be false ; and then what ^vill you believe ? But your own rea- son might teach you better, if you believe not the Scriptures ; for you see God doth not set so light by us, but that he vouchsafed to make us, and still preserveth us, and daily up- holdeth us, and provideth for us : and will any wise man make a curious frame for nothing ? Will you make or buy a clock, or a watch, and daily look to it, and not care whether it go true or false ? Surely if you believe not a par- ticular eye of ProA-idence observing your hearts and lives, you cannot believe or expect any particular Providence to observe your wants and troubles, to relieve you. And if God had so little cared for you, as you imagine, you would never have lived till now ; a hundi-ed diseases would have striven which should first destroy you. Yea, the devil would have haunted you, and fetched you away alive, as the great fishes devour the less ; and as ravenous beasts and birds devour others. You cannot think that God made man for no end or use ; and if he made him for any, it was sure for himself. And can you think he cares not whether his end be accom- plished, and whether we do the work that we are made for? Yea, by this atheistical objection, you make God to have made and upheld all the world in vain. For what are all other lower creatures for, but for man ? "What doth the earth but bear us, and nourish us ? And the beasts do serve us with their labours and lives ; and so of the rest. And hath God made so glorious a habitation, and set man to dwell in it, and made all his servants ; and now doth he A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 137 look for nothing at his hands ? nor care how he thinks, or speaks, or lives ? This is most unreasonable. Object. 9. It was a better world when men did not make so much ado in religion. Answ. It hath ever been the custom to praise the time past. That world that you speak of, was wont to say, It was a better world in our forefathers' days, and so did they of their forefathers. This is but an old custom, because we all feel the e\dl of our own times, but we see not that which was before us. 2. Perhaps you speak as you think: worldlings think the world is at the best, when it is agreeable to their minds, and when they have most mii'th and worldly pleasure. And I doubt not but the devil, as well as you, would say, that then it was a better world : for then he had more service, and less disturbance ; but the world is best, when God is most loved, regarded, and obeyed. And how else ■will you know when the world is good or bad, but by this ? Object. 10. There are so many ways and religions, that we know not Avhich to be of ; and therefore we will be even as we are. Answ. Because there are many, will you be of that way that you may be sure is wrong ? None are farther out of the way, than worldly, fleshly, unconverted sinners. For they do not err in this or that opinion, as many sects do ; but in the very scope and drift of their lives. If you were going a journey that your life lay on, would you stop or turn again, because you meet some cross-ways, or because you saw some travellers go the horse-way and some the foot- way, and some perhaps break over the hedge, yea, and some miss the way ? Or would you not rather be the more care- ful to inquire the way ? J£ you have some servants that know not how to do your work right, and some that are unfaithful, would you take it well at any of the rest, that would therefore be idle and do you no service, because they see the rest so bad ? Object. 11. I do not see that it goes any better with those 138 A CALL TO THE m^CONTERTED. that are so godly, than -with other men. They are as poor, and in as much trouble, as others. A71SIV. And perhaps in much more, -when God sees it meet. They take not an earthly prosperity for their wages. They have laid up their treasure and hopes in another world, or else they are not Christians indeed. The less they have, the more is behind : and they are content to wait till then. Object. 12. When you have said all that you can, I am resolved to hope well, and trust in God, and do as well as I can, and not make so much ado. Ajisw. 1. Is that doing as well as you can, when you will not turn to God, but your heart is against his holy and diligent service ? It is as well as you will, indeed : but that is yoiu" misery. 2. My desire is that you shoidd hope and trust in God. But for what is it that you will hope ? Is it to be saved, if you turn and be sanctified ? For this you have God's promise ; and therefore hope for it, and spare not ; but if you hope to be saved without conversion and a lioly life, this is not to hope in God, but in Satan, or yourselves ; for God hath given you no such promise, but told you the contrary ; but it is Satan and self-love that made you such promises, and raised you to such hopes. Well, if these, and such as these, be all you have to say against conversion and a holy life, your all is nothing, and worse than nothing ; and if these, and such as these, seem reasons sufficient to persuade you to forsake God, and cast yourselves into hell, the Lord deliver you fi'om such reasons, and from such blind understandings, and from such senseless, hardened hearts. Dare you stand to every one of these reasons at the bar of God ? Do you think it will then serve yom- turn, to say. Lord, I did not turn, because I had so much to do in the world, or because I did not like the Hves of some professors, or because I saw men of so many minds? Oh how easily will the light of that day confound and shame such reasons as these ! Had you the world to look after ? Let the world which you serv^ed, now pay you your wages, A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 139 and save you if it can ! Had you not a better world to look after first ? And were ye not commanded to seek first God's kingdom and righteousness, and promised, that other things shall be added to you ? Matt. vi. 33. And were you not told, " that godhness was profitable to all things, ha\'ing the promise of this hfe, and of that which is to come ? " 1 Tim. iv, 8. Did the sins of professors hinder you? You should rather have been the more heedful, and learned by their falls to beware ; and have been the more careful, and not to be more careless ; it was the Scripture and not their lives, that was .your rule. Did the many opinions of the world hinder you ? Why, the Scripture that was your rule, did teach you but one way, and that was the right way ; if you had followed that, even in so much as was plain and easy, you would never have miscamed. Will not such answers as these confound and silence you ? If these will not, God hath those that will. When he asketh the man, " Friend, how camest thou in hither, not having on a wed- ding garment ? " Matt. xxii. 1 2 ; that is, what dost thou in my church amongst professed Christians, without a holy heart and life ? what answer did he make ? Why, the text saith, " He was speechless," he had nothing to say. The clearness of the case, and the majesty of God, will then easily stop the mouths of the most confident of you, though you will not be put down by any thing that we can say to you now, but will make good your cause, be it never so bad. I know already, that never a reason that now you can give me, will do you any good at last, when yom- case must be opened before the Lord and all the world. Nay, I scarce think that your own consciences are well satisfied with yom- reasons. For if they are, it seems then you have not so much as a purpose to repent ; but if you do but purpose to repent, it seems you do not put much con- fidence in your reasons which you bring against it. What say you, unconverted sinners? Have you any good reason to give why you should not turn, and presently turn with all your hearts ? or will you go to hell in despite of reason itself? Bethink you what you do, in time, for it 140 A CALL TO THE I-:N-CO>-VERTEr. will sboitly be too late to bethink you. Can you find any fault with God, or his work, or wages? Is he a bad master? Is the devil whom ye serve a better ? or is the flesh a bet- ter ? Is there any harm in a holy life ? Is a life of world- liness and ungodliness better ? Do you think in your con- science that it would do you any h;irm to be converted, and Kve a holy life ? AVhat h:\rm can it do you ? Is it harm to you to have the Spiiit of Christ within you ? and to have a cleansed, pmified heart ? If it be bad to be holy, why doth God say, Be ye holy, for I am holy?" 1 Pet. i. 15, 1 6 ; Lev. xx. 7. Is it evil to be like God? Is it not said, that '* God made man in his own image ? " TVliy, this holi- ness is his image : this Adam lost, and tliis Christ by his word and Spirit would restore you. as he doth to all that he will save. Why were you baptized into the Hoi}- Ghost, and why do you baptize yoiu* childi-en into the Holy Ghost, as your Sanctifier, if ye wiU not be sanctified by him, but think it a hurt to be sanctified ? Tell me truly, as before the Lord, though you are loth to hve a holy Hie, had you not rather die in the case of those that do so, than of others ? If you were to die this day, had you not rather die m the case of a converted man than of the imconverted ? of a holy and heavenly man. than of a carnal, earthly man ? And would you not say as Babani, •• Let me die the death of the righte- ous, and let my last end be like his ? " Xumb. xxiii. 10. And why wiU you not now be of the mind that you wiU be of then ? Fii-st or last you must come to this : either to be converted, or to wish you had been when it is too late. But what is it that you are afraid of losing if you tiuTi ? Is it your fiieuds ? You wiU but change them : God will be yom' fi-iend, and Christ and the Spiiit will be your fiiend, and every Christian will be your fi-iend. You will get one Friend that will stand in more stead than all the fi-iends in the world could have done. The fiiends you lose would have but enticed you to hell, but could not have delivered you ; but the Friend you get wiU save you fi*om hell, and bring you to his own eteraal rest. Is it your pleasures that you are afi^oid of losing ? You A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 141 think you shall never have a merry day again, if once you be converted. Alas ! that you should think it a greater plea- sure to live in foolish sports and merriments, and please your flesh, than live in the belie\ang thoughts of glory, and in the love of God, and in righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost, in which the state of grace consisteth, Rom. xiv. 17. If it be a greater pleasm^e to you to think of your lands and inheritance (if you were lord of all the country), than it is to a child to play with pins ; why should it not be a greater joy to you to think of the kingdom of heaven being yours, than all the riches or pleasures of the world ? As it is but foolish childishness that makes children so delight in gawds, that they would not leave them for all your lands ; so it is but foolish worldliness, and fleshliness, and wickedness, that makes you so much delight in yom- houses, and lands, and meat, and drink, and ease, and honour, as that you would not part with them for heavenly delights. But what will you do for pleasure when these are gone ? Do you not think of that ? ^Mien your pleasures end in horror, and go out vdth a stinking snufl*, the plea- sures of the saints are then at the best. I have had myself but a little taste of the heavenly pleasures, in the fore- thoughts of the blessed approaclihig day, and in the present persuasions of the love of God in Christ ; but I have taken too deep a di'aught of earthly pleasures (so that you may see, if I be partial, it is on your side) ; and yet I must pro- fess from that little experience, that there is no comparison. There is more joy to be had in a day (if the sun of Hfe shine clear upon us) in the state of holiness, than in a whole life of sinful pleasure : I had ^' rather be a doorkeeper in the house of God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness. A day m his courts is better than a thousand " any where else, Psal. Ixxxiv. 10. The mh-th of the wicked is like the laughter of a madman, that knows not his own misery : and therefore Solomon saith of such laughter, "It is mad ; and of mirth, AVhat doth it ? — It is better to go to the house of mouming, than to go to the house of feasting ; for that is the end of all men, and the living will lay it to his heart. 142 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. Sorrow is better than laughter ; for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning ; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise, than to hear the song of fools ; for as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of a fool," Eccl. ii. 2 ; vii. 2-6. All the pleasure of fleshly things is but like the scratching of a man that hath the itch ; it is his disease that makes him desire it : and a wise man had rather be without his pleasure than be troubled with his itch. Your loudest laughter is but like that of a man that is tickled, he laughs when he hath no cause of joy. And it is a wiser thing for a man to give all his estate, and his life, to be tickled to make him laugh, than for you to part with the love of God, and the comforts of holiness, and the hopes of heaven, and to cast yourselves into damnation, that you may have your flesh tickled with the pleasure of sin for a Uttle while. Judge as you are men whether this be a wise man's part. It is your carnal, unsanctified nature that makes a holy life seem grievous to you, and a course of sensuality seem more delightful. If you will but turn, the Holy Ghost will give you another nature and inclination, and then it will be more pleasant to you to be rid of your sin, than now it is to keep it ; and you will then say that you knew not what a comfortable life was till now, and that it was never well with you till God and holiness were your delight. Quest. But how cometh it to pass, that men should be so unreasonable in the matters of salvation ? They have wit enough in other matters ; what makes them so loth to be converted, that there should need so many words in so plain a case ; and all will not do, but the most wUl live and die uncoverted ? Answ. To name them only in few words, the causes are these : 1 . Men are naturally in love with earth and flesh ; they are born sinners, and their nature hath an enmity to God and godliness, as the nature of a serpent hath to a man. And when all that we can say goes against the habi- A CALL TO THE L^'COXITIRTED. 143 tual inclinations of theii' natures, no marvel if it little pre- vail. 2. They are in darkness, and know not the very things that they hear. Like a man that was bom blind, and hears a high commendation of the hght : but what will hearing do, unless he sees it ? They know not what God is, nor what is the power of the cross of Christ, nor what the Spirit of holiness is, nor what it is to live in love by faith. They know not the certainty, and suitableness, and excellency of the heavenly inheritance. They know not what conversion and a holy mind and conversation are, even when they hear of them. They are in a mist of ignorance, they are lost and bewildered in sin ; like a man that hath lost himself in the night, and knows not where he is, nor how to come to him- self again, till the dayHght do recover him. 3. They are wilfully confident that they need no conver- sion, but some partial amendment ; and that they are in the way to heaven already, and are converted, when they are not. And if you meet a man that is quite out of his way, you may long enough call on him to turn back again, if he will not believe you that he is out of the way. 4. They are become slaves to their flesh, and drowned in the world to make provision for it. Their lusts, and pas- sions, and appetites have distracted them, and got such a hand over them, that they cannot tell how to deny them, or how to mind any tiling else. So that the drunkard saith, I love a cup of good diink, and cannot forbear it. The glutton saith, I love good cheer, and I cannot forbear. The fornicator saith, I love to have my lusts fulfilled, and I cannot forbear. And the gamester loveth to have his sports, and he cannot forbear. So that they are even become capti- vated slaves to their flesh, and their very wilfulness is become an impotency, and what they would not do they say they can- not. And the worldling is so taken up with, earthly things, that he hath neither heart, nor mind, nor time for heavenly ; but as in Pharaoh's di'eam, Gen. xli. 4, the lean kine did eat up the fat ones, so this lean and barren earth do eat up all the thoughts of heaven. 144 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 5. Some are so carried away by the stream of e\'il com- pany, that they ai-e possessed with hard thoughts of a godly life, by hearing them speak against it : or at least they think they may ventm-e to do as they see most do ; and so they hold on in theu' sinful ways. And when one is cut off and cast into hell, and another snatched away fi-om among them to the same condemnation, it doth not much daunt them, because they see not whither they are gone. Poor %vi'etches ! they hold on in then* ungodliness for all this ; for they little know that their companions are now lamentmg it in tor- ments. In Luke x-vi. the rich man in hell would fain have had one to warn his five brethren, lest they should come to that place of torment. It is like he knew their minds and lives, and knew that they were hastmg thither, and little di'eamed that he was there ; yea, and little would have be- lieved on6 that should have told them so. I remember a passage a gentleman told me he saw upon a bridge over the Severn.* A man was di'iving a flock of fat lambs, and something meeting them and hindering then* passage, one of the lambs leaped upon the wall of the bridge, and his legs shpping from under him, he fell into the stream ; and the rest seeing hun, did one after another leap over the bridge into the stream, and were all, or almost aU, drowned. Those that were behind, did Httle know what was become of them that were gone before, but thought that they mi^ht ventm-e to follow their companions. But as soon as ever they were over the wall and flilling headlong, the case was altered. Even so it is -svith unconverted, carnal men. One dieth by them, and drops into hell, and another follows the same way ; and yet they will go after them, because they tiiink not whither they are going. Oh! but when death has once opened their eyes, and they see what is on the other side of the wall, even in another world, then what would they give to be where they were ! G. Moreover, they have a subtle, malicious enemy, that is unseen of them, and plays his game in the dark ; and it * Mr II. Rowley, of Shrewsbury, upon Acham Bridge. A CALL TO THE U^XO^VERTED. 145 is his principal business to hinder their conversion ; and therefore to keep them where they are, by persuading them not to believe the Scriptures, or not to trouble their mmds with these matters ; or by persuading them to think ill of a godly life, or to think that it is more ado than needs, and that they may be saved without conversion, and without all this stir ; and that God is so merciful, that he will not damn any such as they, or, at least, that they may stay a little longer, and take their pleasm-e, and follow the world a Httle longer yet, and then let it go, and repent hereafter ; and by such juggling, deluding cheats as these, the devil keeps most in his captivity, and leadeth them to his misery. These, and such like impediments as these, do keep so many thousands unconverted, when God hath done so much, and Christ hath suffered so much, and ministers have said so much, for their conversion ; when their reasons are si- lenced, and they are not able to answer the Lord that calls after them, " Turn ye, tiun ye, why will ye die?" yet all comes to nothing with the greatest part of them ; and they leave us no more to do after all, but to sit down and lament their wilful misery. . I have now shewed you the reasonableness of God's com- mands, and the unreasonableness of wicked men's disobe- dience. If nothing will serve turn, but men will yet refuse to turn, we are next to consider whose doing it is if they be damned. And this brings me to the last doctrine ; wliich is, Doct. YII. That if, after all this, men will not turn, it is not of God that they are condenuied, but of themselves, even their own wilfulness. They die because they will die, that is, because they will not turn. If you will go to hell, what remedy? God here acquits himself of your blood : it shall not lie on him if you be lost. A neghgent minister may draw it upon him ; and those that encourage you, or hinder you not, in sin, may draw it upon them ; but be sure of it, it shall not lie upon God. Saith the Lord concerning his unprofitable vineyard, " Judge, I pray you, between me and my vineyard : what could have K 146 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. been done more to my -vdneyard, that I have not done to it?" "\Mien he had " planted it in afi'uitful soil, and fenced it, and gathered ont the stones, and planted it with the choicest ^'ines," what should he have done more to it ? Isa. V. 1-4. He hath made vou men, and endued you vrith. reason ; he hath furnished you with external necessaries, all creatm-es are at your service ; he hath given you a righte- ous, perfect law ; when you had broken it, and undone your- selves, he had pity on you, and sent his Son by a miracle of condescending mercy to die for you, and be a sacrifice for yom' sins, and he " was in Christ reconciling the world to himself." The Lord Jesus hath made you a deed of gift of himself, and eternal life with him, on the condition you will but accept it, and return. He hath, on this reasonable con- dition, offered you the fi'ee pardon of all your sins : he hath written this in his word, and sealed it by his Spuit, and sent it you by his ministers ; they have made the offer to you a hundred and a hundred times, and called you to accept it, and turn to God. They have ia his name entreated you, and reasoned the case -with you, and answered all your fri- volous objections. He hath long waited on you, and staid your leism'e, and suffered you to abuse him to his face. He hath mercifidly sustained you in the midst of your sins ; he hath compassed you about with all sorts of mercies ; he hath also intermixed afflictions, to mmd you of your folly, and caU you to your wits ; and his Spmt hath been often striv- ing with your hearts, and saving there, Tmn simier, turn to him that calleth thee : whither art thou going ? TTIiat art thou doing ? Dost thou know what will be the end ? How long ^xlit thou hate thy fiiends, and love thine ene- mies ? AVhen wUt thou let go all, and turn, and deHver up thyself to God, and give thy Redeemer the possession of thy soul ? "\Mien shall' it once be ? These pleadings have been used with thee ; and when thou hast delayed, thou hast been urged to make haste, and God hath called to thee, " To- day, while it is called to-day, harden not your heart. Why not now without any more delay?" Life hath been set be- fore you ; the joys of heaven have been opened to you in A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 147 the gospel ; the certainty of them have been manifested ; the certainty of the everlasting torments of the damned have been declared to you, unless you would have had a sight of heaven and hell, what could you desire more ? Christ hath been, as it were, set forth crucified before your eyes. Gal. iii. 1. You have been a hundred times told, that you are but lost men, till you come unto him ; as oft as you have been told of the evil of sin, and of the vanity of sin, the world, and all the pleasures and wealth it can afford ; of the short- ness and uncertainty of your lives, and the endless duration of the joy or torment of the life to come. All this, and more than this, have you been told, and told again, even till you were weary of hearing it, and till you could make the lighter of it, because you had so often heard it ; like the smith's dog, that is brought, by custom, to sleep under the noise of the hammers, when the sparks do fly about his ears : and though all this have not converted you, yet you are alive, and might have mercy, to this day, if you had but hearts to entertain it. And now let reason itself be judge, whether it be of God or you, if after all this you will be unconverted, and be damned? If yoii die noAv it is be- cause you will die. What should be said more to you ? or what course should be taken, that is liker to prevail ? Are you able to say and make it good, AYe would fain have been converted and become new creatures, but we could not ; we would have changed our company, and our thoughts, and our discourse, but we could not. AVhy could you not if you would? Wliat hindered you, but the wickedness of yom' hearts? Who forced you to sin? or who did hold you back from duty ? Had you not the same teaching, and time, and liberty to be godly as your godly neighbom-s had ? Why then could you not have been godly as well as they ? Were the church doors shut against you, or did you not keep away yourselves ? or sit and sleep, or hear as if you did not hear ? Did God put in any exceptions against you in his word, when he invited sinners to return, and when he pro- mised mercy to those that do return ? Did he say, I wiU pardon all that repent, except thee ? Did he shut you out 148 A CALL TO THE L-^fCOXATERTED. from the liberty of his holy worship ? Did he forbid you to pray to him, any more than others ? Yon know he did not. God did not drive you away fi-om him. but you forsook him, and ran away yourselves. And when he called you to him, you would not come. If God had excepted you out of the general promise and offer of mercy, or had said to you, Stand off. I will have nothing to do with such as you ; pray not to me, for I -will not hear you. If you repent never so much, and crk- for mercy never so much. I will not regard you. If God had left you nothing to trust to but desperation, then you had had a fair excuse. You might have said, To what end should I repent and turn, when it wiU do no good ? But this was not your case. You might have had Christ to be your Lord and Saviour, your Head and Hus- band, as well as others, and you woidd not ; because that ye felt not yourselves sick enough for the physician ; and because you could not spare yoiu" disease : in your hearts ye s;iid as those rebels, Luke xix. 14, '* We will not have this man to reign over us." Chi'ist woidd have gathered you under the wings of his salvation, and ye would not, Matt, xxiii, 27. VThat desires of your welfare did the Lord express in his holy word I AVith what compassion did he stand over you and say, *' Oh that my people had hearkened unto me, and that they had walked in my way I " Psal. Ixxxi. 13. Oh that there were such a heart in this people, that they would fear me, and keep all my commandments always, that it might be well with them, and -with theii- chilib'cn for ever!" Dent. v. 29. Oh that they were A\-ise, that they. midei*stood this, and that they woidd con- sider then* latter end!" Deut. xxxii. 29. He would have been your God, and done all for you that your souls could well desu-e ; but you loved the world and yoiu- flesh above him, and therefore you would not hearken to him ; though you complimented with liim, and gave him high titlei:. yet when he came to the closing, you would have none of him. Ko marvel then, if he gave you up to } oiu- own heart's lusts, and you walked in your own counsels," Psal. Lxxxi. 11,12. He eoudescends to rea.soD, and pleads the case with you, and asks A CALL TO THE LTNCONVERTED, 149 you, "What is there in me, or my service, that you should be so much against me ? What harm have I done thee, sinner ? Have I deserved this unkind deaUng at thy hands ? Many mercies have I shewed thee ; for which of them dost thou despise me? Is it I, or is it Satan, that is thy enemy? Is it I, or is it thy carnal self, that would undo thee ? Is it a holy life, or a life of sin, that thou hast cause to fly fi'om ? If thou be undone, thou procurest this to thyself, by forsak- ing me the Lord, that would have saved thee, Jer. ii. 17. " Doth not thine own wickedness correct thee, and thy sin reprove thee : thou mayest see that it is an evil and bitter thing, that thou hast forsaken me," Jer. ii. 19. " AVhat iniquity have ye found in me, that you have followed after vanity, and forsaken me?" Jer. ii. 5, 6. He calleth out, as it were, to the brutes to hear the controversy he hath against you. " Hear, O ye mountams, the Lord's contro- versy, and ye strong foundations of the earth : for the Lord hath a controversy vdth his people, and he will plead ■with Israel. O my people, what have I done to thee, and where- in have I wearied thee ? testify against me ; for I brought thee out of Egj-pt, and redeemed thee," &c. Mic. ii. 2-5. " Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord hath spoken. I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib, but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider. Ah, smfid nation, a people laden ■with iniquity, a seed of e'vil- doers !" &c. Isa. i. 2-4. " Do you thus requite the Lord, O foolish people and unwise ? Is not he thy Father that bought thee, made thee, and esta- bhshed thee?" Deut. xxxii. G. When he saw that you forsook him even for nothing, and turned away from your Lord and life, to hunt after the chalf and feathers of the world, he told you of your foUy, and called you to a more profitable employment. " A\Tierefore do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not? Hearken dihgently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul dehght itself in fat- ness. Incline your ear, and come unto me ; hear, and your 150 A CALL TO THE L^'CON^' ERTED. soul shall live ; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David. — Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the imrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he ^vill abundantly pardon," Isa. Iv. 1-3, 6, 7. And so Isa. i. 16-18. And when you would not hear, what complaints have you put him to, charging it on you as your wilfulness and stubbornness ! "Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this, and be horribly afraid : for my people have committed two evils ; they have forsaken me, the fountain of lining waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water," Jer. ii. 12, 13. Many a time hath Christ pro- claimed that free invitation to you, " Let him that is athirst, come : and whosoever wUl, let him take the water of life freely," Rev. xxii. 17. But you put him to com- plain after all his offers, " They will not come to me that they may have life," John v. 40. He hath ui%'ited you to feast with him in the kingdom of his grace ; and you have had excuses from your grounds, and your cattle, and your worldly business ; and when you would not come, you have said you could not, and provoked him to resolve that you should never taste of his supper, Luke xiv. 15-23. And whose act is it now but your own ? And what can you say is the chief cause of your damnation, but your o-vvn wills ? You would be damned. The whole case is laid open by Christ himself, Prov. i. 20, to the end: "Wisdom crieth without, she uttereth her voice in the streets : she crieth in the chief place of concourse : How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity ? and the scomers delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge? Turn you at my reproof: behold I vnR pour out my Spiiit unto you, I will make known my words unto you. Because I have called, and ye refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof : I also will laugh at your cala- mity ; I will mock when your fear cometh ; when your fear A CALL TO THE UNCON^'ERTED. 151 Cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a ■whrrhvind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer : they shall seek me eai'ly but they shall not find me ; for that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord : they would none of my counsel : they despised all my reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the fi'uit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices. For the turning away of the simple shall slay them, and the pros- perity of fools shall destroy them. But whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet fi-om the fear of e^'il." I thought best to recite the whole text at large to you, because it doth so fiilly shew the cause of the de- struction of the wicked. It is not because God would not teach them, but because they would not learn. It is not because God would not call them, but because they would not tiuTi at his reproof. Their wilfulness is their undoing. Use. From what hath been said, you may fiirther learn these following things : — 1. From hence you may see, not only what blasphemy and impiety it is to lay the blame of men's destruction upon God, but also how imfit these wicked wretches are to bring in such a charge against then- Maker. They cry out upon God, and say, he gives them no grace, and his threatenings are severe, and God forbid that all should be damned that be not converted aud sanctified, and they think it hard mea- sure, that a short sin shoidd have an endless sufiering ; and if they be damned, they say, they cannot help it. '\Mien in the mean time they are busy about their own destruc- tion, even cutting the throat of their own souls, and Avill not be persuaded to hold their hand. They think God were cruel if he should damn them, and yet they are cruel to themselves, and they will run into the fire of hell, when God hath told them it is a Httle before them ; and neither entreaties nor threatenings, nor any thing that can be said, will stop them. We see them almost undone ; their careless, worldly, fleshly lives, do tell us, that they are in the power of the devil ; we know, if they die before they are con- 152 A CALL TO THE UNC0X^T:11TED. verted, all the world cannot save them ; and knowinjr the uncertainty of their lives, we are afi'aid every day lest they drop into the fire. And, therefore, we entreat them to pity their o^vn souls, and not to undo themselves when mercy is at hand ; and they will not hear us. We entreat them to cast away their sin, and come to Christ without delay, and to have some mercy on themselves ; but they A\-ill have none. And yet they think that God must be cruel if he condemn them. O wil- ful, wretched sinners ! it is not God that is so crviel to you ; it is you that are cruel to yourselves. You are told you must turn or burn, and yet you turn not. You are told, that if you will needs keep your sins, you shall keep the curse of God with them, and yet you will keep them. You are told, that there is no way to happiness but by holiness, and yet you will not be holy. "WTiat would you have God say more to you ? ^\^lat would you have him do with his mercy ? IJe offered it to you, and you will not have it. You are in the ditch of sin and misery, and he would give you his hand to help you out, and you refuse his help ; he would cleanse you of yoiu" sins, and you had rather keep them. You love your lusts, and love your gluttony, and sports, and drunk- enness, and will not let them go ; and would you have him bring you to heaven whether you will or no ? or would you have him to bring you and your sins to heaven to- gether ? \Vhy, that is an impossibility ; you may as well expect he shoidd turn the sun into darkness. What ! an un- sanctified, fleshly heart be in heaven ? It cannot be ! " There entereth nothing that is unclean," Rev. xxi. 17. " For what communication hath light with darkness, or Christ with BeHal?" 2 Cor. vi. 14, 15. " All the day long hath he stretched out his hands to a disobedient and gainsa}-ing people," Rom. x. 25. What will ye do now? Will you cry to God for mercy ? Why, God calleth upon you to have mercy upon yourselves, and you will not ; ministers see the poisoned cup in the drunkard's hand, and tell him, There is poison in it, and desire him to have mercy on his soul, and forbear, and he will not hear us ; (hAnk it he must, and will ; he loves it, and, therefore, though hell comes next, he saith, A CALL TO THE UNCON\'ERTED. 153 he cannot help it. What should one say to such men as these ? We tell the ungodly, careless worldlings, It is not such a life that will serve the turn, or ever bring you to heaven. If a bear were at your back, you would mend your pace ; and when the curse of God is at your back, and Satan and hell are at your back, you will not stir, but ask, What needs all this ado ? Is an immortal soul of no more worth ? O have mercy upon yourselves ! But they will have no mercy on themselves, nor once regard us. ^Ve tell them the end will be bitter. Who can dwell with the everlasting fire ? And yet they will have no mercy upon them- selves. And yet Avill these shameful wretches say, that God is more merciful than to condemn them ? when it is them- selves that cruelly and unmercifully run upon condemnation. And if we should go to them with our hats in our hands, and entreat them, we cannot stop them ; if we should iall down on our knees to them, we cannot stop them ; but to hell they will, and yet will not believe that they are going thither. If we beg of them, for the sake of God that made them, and preserveth them ; for the sake of Christ that died for them ; for the sake of their own poor souls ; to pity themselves, and go no farther in the way to hell, but come to Christ while his arms are open, and enter into the state of life while the door stands open, and now take mercy while mercy may be had, they will not be persuaded. If we should die for it, we cannot get them so much as now and then to consider with themselves of the matter, and to turn. And yet they can sa}', I hope God will be merciful. Did you never consider wiiat he saitli, Isa. xxvii. 11, " It is a people of no understanding ; therefore he that made them will not have mercy on them, and lie that formed them will shew them no favour." If another man vv-ill not clothe you when you are naked, and feed you when }'ou are hungry, you will say he is unmerciful. If he should cast you into prison, or beat or torment you, you would say he is unmer- ciful. And yet you do a thousand times more against yourselves, even cast away both soul and body for ever, and never complain of your own unmercifulness. Yea, and God 154 A CALL TO THE UNC0N\T:RTED. that waited upon you all the while with his mercy, must be taken to be unmerciful, if he punish you after all this. Un- less the holy God of heaven will give these wretches leave to trample upon his Son's blood, and with the Jews, as it were, again to spit in his face, and do despite to the Spiiit of grace, and make a jest of sin, and a mock at holiness, and set more Hght by sa%'ing mercy, than by the filth of their fleshly pleasure ; and unless, after all this, he will save them by the mercy which they cast away and wordd none of, God himself must be called unmerciful by them : but he will be justified when he judgcth ; and he will not stand or faU at the bar of a sinful worm. I know there are many particular cavils that are brought by them against the Lord, but I shall not here stay to an- swer them particularly, having done it already in my " Trea- tise of Judgment," to which I shall refer them. Had the disputing part of the world been as careful to avoid sin and destruction, as they have been busy in searching after the cause of them, and forAvard indirectly to impute it to God, they might have exercised their yvits more profitably, and have less wronged God, and sped better themselves. ^Mien so ugly a monster as sm is within us, and so hea-\y a thing as punishment is on us, and so dreadfiil a thmg as hell is before us, one woidd think it should be an easy question who is in the fault, and whether God or man be the principal or culpable cause? Some men are such favourable judges of themselves, that they are proner to accuse the Infinite Per- fection and Goodness itself, than their OAvn hearts ; and imitate their first parents that said, " The serpent tempted me, and the woman that thou gavest me, gave unto me, and I did eat," secretly impMng that God was the cause. So say they, The understanding that thou gavest me was unable to discern ; the vaU that thou gavest me was unable to make a better choice ; the objects which thou didst set be- fore me did entice me ; the temptation which thou didst permit to assault me prevailed against me. And some are so loth to think that God can make a self-detennimng crea- ture, that they dare not deny him that which they take to A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 155 be his prerogative, to be the determiner of the will in every sin, as the first efficient, immediate, physical cause. And many could be content to acquit God from so much causing of evil, if they could but reconcile it with his being the chief cause of good. As if truths would be no longer truths, than we are able to see them in their perfect order and cohe- rence ; because our ravelled wits cannot set them right to- gether, nor assign each truth its proper place, we presume to conclude, that some must be cast away. This is the fruit of proud self-conceitedness, when men receive not God's truth as a child his lesson, in a holy submission to the holy omniscience of our Teacher, but as censurers that are too wise to learn. Object. But we cannot convert ourselves till God convert us ; we can do nothing mthout his grace. It is not in him that willeth, nor in him that runneth, but in God that shew- eth mercy. Answ. 1 . God hath two degrees of mercy to shew : the mercy of conversion first, and the mercy of salvation last. The latter he will give to none but those that will and run, and hath promised it to them only. The former is to make them willing that were unwilling ; and though your own willingness and endeavours deserve not his grace, yet your wilfid refusal deserveth that it should be denied unto you. Your disability is your very unwillingness itself, which ex- cuseth not your sin, but maketh it the greater. You could turn, if you were but truly willing ; and if your -svills them- selves are so corrupted, that nothing but effectual grace will move them, ) ou have the more cause to seek for that grace, and yield to it, and do what you can in the use of the means, and not neglect it, nor set against it. Do what you are able first, and then complain of God for denying you grace, if you have cause. Object. But you seem to intimate, all this while, that man hath free-will. Ajisiv. The dispute about fi-ee-will is beyond your capa- city ; I shall, therefore, now trouble you with no more but this about it. Your will is naturally a free, that is, a self- 156 A CALL TO THE L'NCONVERTED. determining faculty ; but it is viciously inclined, and back- -vvard to do good ; and therefore, -we see by sad experience that it hath not a wtuous, moral freedom. But that is the ■wickedness of it which deserveth the punishment. And I pray you let us not befool ourselves with opinions. Let the case be your own. K you had an enemy so maHcious, that he falls upon you and beats you every time he meets you, and takes away the lives of your children, -will you excuse him, because he saith, I have not free-will, it is my nature, I cannot choose, unless God give me grace? If you have a servant that robbeth you, will you take such an answer from him? ^Might not ever\' thief and murderer that is hanged at the assize, give such an an- swer, I have not free-will, I cannot change my own heart. AATiat can I do without God's grace? And shall they, therefore, be acquitted? If not, why, then, should you think to be acquitted for a course of sin against the Lord? 2. From hence also you may observe these three things together. (1.) "What a subtle tempter Satan is. (2.) What a deceitful thing sin is. (3.) A\Tiat a foolish creature corrupted man is. A subtle tempter, indeed, that can per- suade the greatest part of the world to go wilfully into everlasting fire, when they have so many warnings and dis- suasives as they have ! A deceitftil tiling is sin, indeed, that can bewitch so many thousands to part with everlasting life, for a tiling so base and utterly unworthy I A foolish crea- ture is man, indeed, that will be so cheated of his salvation for nothing ; yea, for a known nothing ! and that by an enemy, and a Icnown enemy ! You would think it impos- sible that any man in his wits should be persuaded for a trifle, to cast Idmself into the fire or water, mto a coal-pit, to the destruction of his hfe ; and yet men will be enticed to cast themselves into hell. Jf your natural Hves were in your OAvn hands, that you should not die tUl you would kill yourselves, how long would most of you live ! And yet, when your everlasting life is so far in your own hands, un- der God, that you cannot be undone till you undo your- A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 157 selves, how few of you will forbear your own undoing ! Ah, what a silly thing is man ! and what a bewitching and be- fooling thing is sin ! 3. From hence also you may learn, that it is no great wonder, if wicked men be hinderers of others in the way to heaven, and would have as many unconverted as they can, and would draw them into sin, and keep them in it. Can you expect that they should have mercy on others, that have none upon themselves ? and that they should much stick at the destruction of others, that stick not to destroy themselves ? They do no worse by others, than they do by themselves. 4. Lastly, You may hence leara that the greatest enemy to man is himself, and the greatest judgment in this hfe, that can befall him, is to be left to himself ; and that the great work that grace hath to do, is to save us from our- selves, and the greatest accusations and complaints of men should be against themselves ; and that the greatest work we have to do ourselves, is to resist ourselves ; and the greatest enemy we should daily pray, and watch, and strive against, is our carnal hearts and wills; and the greatest part of your work, if you would do good to others, and help them to heaven, is to save them from themselves, even from their own bUnd understandings, and corrupted wills, and perverse affections, and violent passions, and unruly senses. I only name all these for brevity sake, and leave them to your further consideration. Well, sirs, now we have found out the great delinquent and murderer of souls (even men's selves, their own walls) ; what remains, but that you judge according to the evidence, and confess this great iniquity before the Lord, and be humbled for it, and do so no more ? To these three ends distinctly, I shall add a few words more. 1. Further to convince you. 2. To humble you. And, 8. To reform you, if there be yet any hopes. 1. We know so much of the exceeding gracious nature of God, who is willing to do good, and delighteth to shew mercy, that we have no reason to suspect him of being the 158 A CAI.L TO THE UNCONA^ERTED. culpable cause of our death, or call liim cruel. He made all good, and he preserveth and maintaineth all. " The eyes of all things do wait upon hira, and he giveth them their meat in due season ; he opencth his hand, and satis- fieth the desires of all the n\ing," Psal. cxlv. 15, 16. He is not only " righteous in all his ways" (and, therefore, will deal justly), " and holy in all his works" (and, there- fore, not the author of sin), but " he is also good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works," Psalm cxlv. 17, 9. But as for man, we know his mind is dark, his will per- verse, his affections carry him so headlong, that lie is fitted by folly and corruption to such a work as the destrojdng of himself. K you saw a lamb lie killed in the way, would you sooner suspect the sheep, or the dog or wolf to be the author of it, if they both stand by ; or if you see a house broken, and the people murdered, would you sooner sus- pect the prince, or judge, that is wise and just, and had no need ; or a known thief, or murderer ? I say, there- fore, as James i. 13-15, "Let no man say when he is tempted that he is tempted of God, for God cannot be tempted with e\il, neither tempteth he any man " (to draw him to sin) ; " but every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived it bringeth forth sin : and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." You see here, that sin is the brat of your own concupiscence, and not to be fathered on God ; and that death is the ofispring of your own sin, and the fruit which it will j-ield you as soon as it is ripe. You have a treasure of evil in yourselves, as a spider hath of poison, from whence you are bringing forth hurt to yourselves ; and spinning such webs as entangle your own souls. Your nature shews it is you that are the cause. 2. It is evident, you are your own destroyers, in that you are so ready to entertain any temptation almost that is offered you. Satan is scarce readier to move you to any evil, than you are ready to hear, and to do as he would have you. If he would tempt your understanding to error A CALL TO THE UNCONVEllTED. 159 and prejudice, you yield. If he would hinder you fi-om good resolutions, it is soon done. K he would cool any good desires or affections, it is soon done. If he would kindle any lust, or vile affections and desires, in you, it is soon done. If he would put you on to evil thoughts, words, or deeds, you are so free, that he needs no rod or spur. K he would keep you from holy thoughts, and words, and ways, a little doth it ; you need no curb. You examme not his suggestions, nor resist them with any resolution, nor cast them out as he casts them in, nor quench the sparks which he endeavoureth to kindle. But you set in with him and meet hun half-way, and embrace his motions, and tempt him to tempt you. And it is easy to catch such greedy fish that are ranging for a bait, and will take the bare hook. 3. Your destruction is evidently your o-\vn doing, in that you resist all that would help to save you, and would do you good, or hinder you from undoing yourselves. God would help and save you by his word, and you resist it, it is too strict for you. He would sanctify you by his Spirit, and you resist and quench it. K any man reprove you for your sin, you fly in his face with evil words : and if he would draw you to a holy life, and tell you of your present danger, you give him little thanks, but either bid him look to him- self, he shall not answer for you ; or else at best, you put him off with a heartless thanks, and will not turn when you are persuaded. If ministers would privately mstruct and help you, you will not come at them, your unhumbled souls do feel but little need of their help. If they would catechise you, you are too old to be catechised, though you are not too old to be ignorant and unholy. Whatever they can say to you for your good, you are so self- conceited and wise in your own eyes (even in the depth of ignorance), that you will regard nothing that agreeth not with your present con- ceits, but contradict your teachers, as if you were wiser than they ; you resist all that they can say to you, by your igno- rance and wilfulness, and foohsh cavils, and shifting eva- sions, and unthankful rejections ; so that no good that is 160 A CALL TO THE L^XOXA'ERTED. offered, can find any welcome acceptance or entertainment with you. 4. Moreover, it is apparent that your are self-destroyers, in that you draw the matter of your sin and destruction, even from the blessed God himself You Uke not the con- trivance of his Avisdom. You like not his justice, but take it for cruelty. You like not his holiness, but are ready to think he is such a one as yourselves, Psal. 1. 21, and makes as Hght of sin as you. You like not his truth, but would have his threatenings, even his peremptory threatenings, prove false. And his goodness, which you seem most highly to approve, you partly abuse to the strengthening of your sin, as if you might the freelier sin, because God is merciful, and because his grace doth so much abound. 6. Yea, you fetch destruction from your blessed Re- deemer, and death from the Lord of life liimself. And nothing more emboldeneth you in sin, than that Christ hath died for you ; as if now the danger of death were over, and you might boldly venture. As if Christ were become a servant to Satan and your sins, and must wait upon you while you are abusing him ; and because he is become the Physician of souls, and is able to save to the utmost aU that come to God by liim, you think he must suffer you to refuse his help, and throw away his medicuies, and must save you, whether you will come to God by him or no : so that a great part of your sins are occasioned by your bold presumption upon the death of Christ. Not considering that he came to redeem his people fi'om their sin, and to sanctify them a peculiar people to himself, and to conform them in hoHness to the image of their hea- venly Father, and to their Head, Matt. i. 21 ; Tit. ii. 14 ; 1 Pet. i. 15, 16 ; Col. iii. 10, 11 ; Phil. iii. 9, 10. 6. You also fetch your own destruction from all the pro- vidences and works of God. "Wlien you think of his eter- nal foreknowledge and decrees, it is to harden you in your sin, or possess your minds with quarrelling thoughts, as il his decrees might spare you the labour of repentance and a holy life, or else were the cause of your sin and death. If A CALL TO THE UNCONTERTED. 161 lie afflict you, you repine ; if he prosper you, you the more forget him, and are the more backward to the thoughts of the Hfe to come. If the wicked prosper, you forget the end that will set all reckonings straight ; and are ready to think, it is as good to be wicked as godly. And thus you draw your death from all. 7. And the like you do from all the creatures, and mer- cies of God to you ; he giveth them to you as the tokens of his love, and furniture for his service, and you trnm them against him to the pleasing of your flesh. You eat and drink to please your appetite, and not for the glory of God, and to enable you for his work. Your clothes you abuse to pride. Your riches draw your hearts from heaven, Phil. iii. 18. Your honours and applause do puff you up ; if you have health and strength, it makes you more secure, and forget your end. Yea, other men's mercies are abused bv you to your hurt. If you see their honours and dignity, yow. are provoked to envy them. If you see their riches, you arf ready to covet them. K you look upon beauty, you are stirred up to lust. And it is well if godliness be not an eye- sore to you. 8. The very gifts that God bestoweth on you, and the ordinances of gi'ace ^vhich he hath instituted for his church, you turn unto your sin. If you have better parts than others, you grow proud and self- conceited. If you have but common gifts, you take them for special grace. You take the bare hearing of your duty for so good a work, as if it Avould excuse you for not obejdng it. Your prayers are turned into sin, because you " regard iniquity in your hearts," Psal. Ixvi. 18. And you depart not from ini- quity when you call on the name of the Lord," 2 Tim, ii. 19. Your " prayers are abominable, because you turn away your ear from hearing the law," Prov. xxviii. 9. And you are more ready to " oflTer the sacrifice of fools," (thinking you do God somd special service), " than to hear his word, and obey it," Eccl V. 1 . You examine not yourselves before you receive the supper of the Lord, but, not discerning the Lord's body, do eat and drink judgment to yourselves, 1 Cor. xi. 28, 29. 162 A CALL TO THE I-XCOX^T-RTED. 9. Yea, the persons you converse vdth. and all their ac- tions, you make the occasions of your sin and destruction. If they live in the fear of God, you hate them. If they live ungodly, you imitate them. K the -wicked are many, you think you may the more boldly follow them. If the godly be few, you are the more emboldened to despise them ; if they walk exactly, you think they are too precise ; if one of them fall into a particular temptation, you stumble upon them, and turn away fi'om holiness, because others are im- perfectly holy ; as if you were waiTanted to break your necks because some others have, by theii' heedlessness, sprained a sinew or put out a bone. If a hvpocrite discover himself, you say. They ai-e aU alike ; and think yourselves as honest as the best. A professor can scarce slip into any miscar- riage, but because he cuts his finger you think you may boldly cut yom- thi'oats. If ministers dciil plainly with you, you say they rail ; if they speak gently or coldly, you either sleep under them, or are little more affected than the seats you sit upon. K any errors creep into the church, some greedily entertain them, and others reproach the Christian doctrine for them, which is most against them. And if we would draw you from any ancient, rooted error, which can but plead too, or three, or six, or seven hundred years' cus- tom, you ai'e as much offended with a motion for reforma- tion, as if you were to lose your life by it, and hold fast old errors while you cry out against new ones. Scarce a difler- ence can ai'ise among the ministers of the gospel, but you will fetch your own death from it. And you will not hear, or at least not obey, the unquestionable doctrine of any of those that jump not with your conceits : one will not hear a minister, because he readeth his sei-mons ; and another will not hear him, because he doth not read them. One will not hear him because he saith the Lord's prayer ; and another win not hear him, because he doth not use it. One wiU not hear them that ai*e for episcopacy, and another will n^t heai* them that are against it. And thus I might shew you in many other cases, how you twm all that comes near you to your own destruction ; so clear is it, that the un- A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 1 G3 godly are self-destroyers, and that their perdition is of tliciu- selves. Methlnks, now, upon the consideration of what is said, and the review of your own ways, you should bethink you what you have done, and be ashamed, and deeply humbled, to remember it. If you be not, I pray you consider these following truths. 1. To be your own destroyers, is to sin against the deep- est principle in your natures, even the principle of self-pre- servation. Every thing naturally desireth or inclineth to its own felicity, welfare, or perfection. And will you set your- selves to your own destruction ? When you are commanded to love your neighbours as yourselves, it is supposed that you naturally love yourselves ; but if you love your neigh- bours no better than yourselves, it seems you would have all the world to be damned. 2. How extremely do you cross your own intentions ! I know you intend not your own damnation, even when you are procuring it ; you think you are but doing good to your- selves, by gratifying the desires of your flesh. But, alas ! it is but as a draught of cold water in a burning fever, or as the scratching of an itching wildfire, which increaseth the disease and pain. If indeed you would have pleasure, profit, or honour, seek them where they are to be found, and do not hunt after them in the way to hell. 3. AVhat pity is it that you should do that against your- selves which none else in earth or hell can do ! If all the world were combined against you, or all the devils in hell were combined against you, they could not destroy you with- out yourselves, nor make you sin but by your own consent. And will you do that against yourselves wliich none else can do ? You have hateful thoughts of the devil, because he is your enemy, and endeavoureth your destruction. And will vou be worse than devils to yourselves ? Vihy thus it is with you, if you had hearts to understand it ; when you run mto sin, and run from godUness, and refuse to turn at the call of God, you do more against your own souls than men or devils could do besides. And if you should set your- 1 64 A CAIX TO THE TTTOOXTERTEI). selres, and bend your ints to do rourselves the greatest mischief, rou could not devise to do a greater. 4. Yon are false to the trust that God hath reposed in you. He hath much intrusted you inth your own salvation : and TriU you betray your trust ? He hath set you ynth aU diligence to keep your hearts? and is this the keeping of them? ProT. ir. 23. 5. You do even forbid all others to pity you, irhen you win have no pity on yourselves. If you cry to God in the day of your calamity, for mercy, merc}- ; what can you ex- pect but that he should thrust you away, and say, Xay, thou wouldst not have mercy on thysetf; who brought this iq>on thee but thine own wilfalness ? And if your brethren see you everiastin^y in misery, how should they pity you, that were your own destroyers, and would not be dis- suaded? 6. It win everlastingly make you your own tormentors in hell, to think on it, that you brought yourselves wilfully to that nuseiy. Oh, what a griping thought it will be for ever, to think with yourselves, that this was your own doing I That you were warned of this day, and warned again, but it woold not do : that you wilfully sbonedL and turned away from God : that you had time as well as others, but you abused it : you had teachers as well as others, but you re- fused their instruction : you had holy e:xamples, but you did not imitate them ; you were ofiered Christ, grace, and glori- as weQ as others, but you had more mind to fleshly plea- sures : you had a prize in your hands, but had not a heart to lay it out, Prov. xvii. 16. Can it choose but torment you, to think of this your present folly? Oh that your eyes were opened to see what you have done in the wilfiil wrong- ing of your own souls I and that you better understood those words of God, Prov. viiL 33-36, ^* Hear instruction, and be wise, and refuse it not. Blessed is the man that heareth me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the p(»ts of my doors. For whoso findeth me, findeth Hfe, and shall obtain &vour of the Lord. But he that sinneth against me, wroug- eth his own soul : all they that hate me, love death.'' A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 165 And now I am come to the conclusion of this work. My heart is troubled to think how I shall leave you, lest after this the flesh should deceive you, and the world and the devil should keep you asleep, and I should leave you as I found you, till you awake in hell. Though, in care of your poor souls, I am afraid of this, as kno"\ving the obstinacy of a carnal heart, yet I can say -wdth the prophet Jeremiah, " I have not desu-ed the woeful day, the Lord knoweth," Jer. xvii. 16. I have not, with James and John, desired that fire might come down from heaven, to consume them that refused Jesus Christ. But it is the preventing of the eternal fire that I have been all this while endeavouring : and oh that it had been a needless work ! that God and conscience might have been as willing to spare me this la- bour, as some of you could have been ! But, dear friends, I am so loth you should lie in everlasting fii-e, and be shut out of heaven, if it be possible to prevent it, that I shall once more ask you. What do you now resolve ? AVill you turn or die ? I look upon you as a physician on his patient, in a dangerous disease, that saith unto him, Though you are so far gone, take but this medicine, and forbear but these few things that are so hurtful to you, and I dare warrant your life ; but if you will not do this, you are a dead man. What Avould you think of such a man, if the phy sician and all the friends he'^uitli, camiot persuade him to take one medicine to save his life, or to forbear one or two j)oisonous things that would kill him? This is your case. As far as you are gone in sin, do but now turn and come to Christ, and take his remedies, and your souls shall Uve. Cast uj) your deadly sins by repentance, and return not to your poisonous vomit any more, and you shall do well. But yet if it were your bodies that we had to deal with, we might partly know what to do for you. Though you Avould not consent, you might be held or bound, while the medicine was poured down your throats, and hurtful things might be kept from you. But about your souls it cannot be so ; we cannot convert you against your wills. There is no carry- ing madmen to heaven in fetters. You may be condemned 166 A CALL TO THE rxCONVEUTED. against yoiu- wills, because you sinned witli yoiu' wills ; but you cannot be saved against your >vills. The wisdom of God hath thought meet to lay men's salvation or destruction exceeding much upon the choice of their own wills : that no man shall come to heaven that choose not the way to heaven ; and no man shall come to hell, but shall be forced to say, I have the thing I chose, my own will -did bring me hither. Now if I could but get you to be wilhng, to be thoroughly and resolvedly, and habitually w illin g, the work were more than half done. And alas ! must we lose our friends, and must they lose their God, their happiness, their souls, for want of this ? O God for- bid ! It is a strange thing to me, that men are so inhu- man and stupid in the greatest matters, that in lesser things are ven,- civil and courteous, and good neighbours. For aught I know, I have the love of all, or almost all my neighbours, so far, that tf I should send to every man in the town, or parish, or country, and request a reasonable courtesy of them, they will gi-ant it me ; and yet when I come to request of them the greatest matter in the world, for themselves, and not for me, I can have nothing of many of them but a patient hearing. I know not whether people think a man in the pulpit is in good sadness or not, and means as he speaks ; for I tliink I have few neighbours, but if I were sitting familiarly with them, and telling them of what I have seen or done, or known in the world, they woidd beHeve me, and regard what I say ; but when I tell them from the infallible word of God, what they themselves shall see and know in the world to come, they shew by their lives that they do either not beheve it, or not much regard it. If I met ever any one of them on the way, and told them, yonder is a coal-pit, or there is a quicksand, or there are thieves lay in wait for you, I could persuade them to turn by. But when I tell them that Satan lieth in wait for them, and that sin is poison to them, and that hell is not a matter to be jested with, they go on as if they did not hear me. Truly, neighbours, I am in as good earnest with you in the pidpit, as I am in any famihar discourse, A CALL TO 'mE UNCOXVEIITED. 167 and if ever you will regard me, I beseecli you let it be here. I think there is never a man of you all, but if my own soul lay at your wills, you wouli be willing to save it (though I cannot promise that you would leave your sins for it.) Tell me, thou drunkard, art thou so cruel to me that speaks to thee, that thou wouldst not forbear a few cups of drink, if thou knewest it would save my soid from hell ? Iladst thou rather I did bum there for ever, than thou shouldst live soberly as other men do ? If so, may I not say, thou art an unmerciful monster, and not a man ? K I came hungry or naked to one of your doors, would you not part with more than a cup of di-uik to reheve me ? I am confident you would; if it were to save my life, I know you would (some of you) hazard your own. And yet wdll you not be entreated to part with your sensual pleasures for yoiu" own salvation ? Wouldst thou forbear a hundred cups of drink, man, to save my Hfe, if it were in thy power, and wilt thou not do it to save thy own soul ? I profess to you, sirs, I am as hearty a beggar with you this day, for the saving of your souls, as I would be for my own supply, if I were forced to come a beggmg to your doors. And, therefore, if you would hear me then, hear me now. If you would pity me then, be entreated now to pity yourselves. I do again beseech you, as if it were on my bended knees, that you would hearken to your Redeemer, and turn, that you may live. All you that have lived in ignorance, and careless- ness, and presumption, to this day ; and all you that have been di'owned in the cares of the world and have no mind of God and eternal glory ; all you that are enslaved to your lleshly desires of meats and drinks, sports and lust ; and all you that know not the necessity of hoHness, and never were acquainted with the sanctifying work of the Holy Ghost upon your souls ; that never embraced your blessed Re- deemer by a Hvely faith, and with admirmg and thankful apprehensions of his love, and that never felt a higher esti- mation of God and heaven, and a heartier love to them, than to your lleshly prosperity, and the things below ; I ear- nestly beseech you, not only for my sake, but for the I^ord's 168 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. sake, and for your soul's sake, that you go not on one day longer in your former condition, but look about you and cry to God for converting gi'ace, that you may be made new creatures, and may escape the plagues that are a little before you. And if ever you will do any thing for me, grant me this request, to tiu-n fi-om your e\\l ways and live : deny me any thing that ever I shall ask you for myself, if you will but grant me this. And if you deny me this, I care not for any thing else that you would grant me. Xay, as ever you Avill do any thing at the request of the Lord that made you and redeemed you, deny him not this ; for if you deny him this, he cares for nothing that you shall grant him. As ever you would have him hear your prayers, and gi'ant your requests, and do for you at the hour of death and day of judgment, or in any of your extremities, deny not his request now in the day of your prosperity. O su's, believe it, death and judgment, and heaven and hell, are other matters when you come near them, than they seem to carnal eyes afar off. Then you will hear such a message as I bring you, with more awakened, regardful hearts. Well, though I cannot hope so well of all, I will hope that some of you are by this time purposing to turn and Hve ; and that you are ready to ask me, as the Jews did Peter, Acts ii. 37, when they were pricked to their hearts, and said, "Men and brethren, what shall Ave do ? " How might we come to be truly converted? We are willing, if we did but know our duty. God forbid that we should choose destruc- tion by refusing conversion, as hitherto we have done. If these be the thoughts and purposes of yom* hearts, I say of you, as God did of a promising people, Deut. v. 28, 29, They have well said, all that they have spoken : oh that there were such an heart in them, that they would fear me, and keep all my commandments always ! " Your pur- poses are good ; oh that there were but a heart in you to perform these purposes ! And in hope thereof, I shall gladly give you direction what to do, and that but briefly, that you may the easier remember it for your practice. A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 169 Direct. 1 . If you would be converted and saved, labour to understand the necessity and true nature of conversion ; for what, and from what, and to what, and by what it is that 3-ou must turn. Consider what a lamentable condition you are in till the hour of your conversion, that you may see it is not a state to be rested in. You are under the guilt of all the sins that ever you committed, and under the wrath of God, and the curse of his law ; you are bond-slaves to the devil, and daily emplo}'ed in his work against the Lord, yourselves, and others. You are spiritually dead and deformed, as being void of the holy life, and nature and image of the Lord. You arc unfit for any holy v;ork, and do nothing that is truly plea- sing unto God. You are without any promise or assurance of his protection; and live in continual danger of his justice, not knoAving what hour you may be snatched away to hell, and most certain to be damned if you die in that condition. And nothing short of conversion can prevent it. AVliatever civilities, or amendments, or virtues, are short of true con- version, will never procure the saving of your souls. Keep the true sense of this natural misery, and so of the necessity of conversion, on your hearts. And then you nmst understand what it is to be con- verted ; it is to have a new heart or disposition, and a new conversation. Quest. 1 . For what must we turn ? Answ. For these ends following, which you may attain. 1. You shall immediately be made living members of Christ, and have interest in him, and be renewed after the image of God, and be adorned with all his graces, and quickened with a new and heavenly life, and saved from the tyranny of Satan and the dominion of sin, and be justified from the curse of the law, and have the pardon of all the sins of your whole lives, and be accepted of God, and made his sons, and have liberty with boldness to call him Father, and go to hirn by prayer in all your needs, ^vith a promise of acceptance ; you shall have the Holy Ghost to dwell in you, to sanctify and guide you. You shall have part in the 170 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. brotherhood, communion, and prayers of the saints. You shall be fitted for God's ser\nce, and be fi-eed fi-om the do- minion of sin, and be useful and a blessing to the place where you live, and shall have the promise of this life and that which is to come. You shall want nothmg that is truly good for you, and your necessary afflictions you will be enabled to bear. Y"ou may have some taste of the com- munion of God in the Spirit ; especially in all holy ordi- nances, where God prepareth a feast for your souls. You shall be heirs of heaven while you live on earth, and may foresee, by faith, the everlasting glory, and so may live and die in peace ; and you shall never be so low, but your peace and happiness will be incomparably greater than your misery. How precious is ever}' one of these blessings, which I do but briefly name, and which in this life you may re- ceive. And then, 2. At death your souls shall go to Christ, and at the day of judgment both soid and body shall be justified and glorified, and enter into your ^Master's joy ; where your happiness will consist in these particulars. (1.) You shall be perfected yourselves : your mortal bodies shall be made immortal, and the corruptible shall put on incorruption ; you shall no more be hungry, thirsty, weary, or sick ; nor shall you need to fear either shame, sorrow, death, or hell. Y''our souls shall be perfectly fi*eed from sin, and perfectly fitted for the knowledge, love, and praises of the Lord. (2.) Y^'our emplo}-ment shall be to behold your glorified Redeemer, with all your holy fellow-citizens of heaven ; and to see the glory of the most blessed God, and to love him perfectly, and be loved by him, and to praise him ever- lastingly. (3.) Your glory will contribute to the glory of the new Jerusalem, the city of the hving God, which is more than to have a private felicity to yourselves. (4.) Your glory wUl contribute to the glorifying of your Redeemer, who will everlastingly be magnified and pleased A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 171 in you, that are the travail of his soul. And this is more than the glorifpng of yom-selves. (5.) And the Eternal ^Majesty, the living God, -mil be glorified in your glor}', both as he is magnified by your praises, and as he communicateth of his glory and goodness to you, and as he is pleased in you ; and in the accomplish- ment of his glorious works, in the glory of the New Jeru- salem, and of his Son. All this the poorest beggar of you that is converted, shall certainly and endlessly enjoy. 2. You see for what you must tm-n ; next you must un- derstand fi'om what you must turn. And that is, in a word, from your carnal self, Avhich is the end of all the uncon- verted. From the flesh, that would be pleased before God, and would still be enticing } ou thereto. From the world, that is the bait ; and from the devil, that is the angler for souls, and the deceiver. And so fi:om all known and vnlful sins. 3. Next you must know to what you must turn. And that is, to God as your end ; to Christ, as the way to the Father ; to holiness, as the way appointed you by Christ ; and so, to the use of all the helps and means of gi-ace of- fered you by the Lord. 4. Lastly, you must knoAv by what you must turn. And that is, by Christ, as the only Redeemer and Intercessor ; and by the Holy Ghost, as the Sanctifier ; and by the word, as his instrument or means ; and by faith and repentance as the means and duties on your part to be performed. All this is of necessity. Direct. 2. If you would be converted and saved, be much in secret, serious consideration. Inconsiderateness undoes the world. Withdraw yourselves off into retired secrecy, and there bethink you of the end why you were made, of the life you have hved, the time you have lost, the sins you have committed ; of the love, and sufferings, and fulness of Christ ; of the danger you are in ; of the nearness of death and judgment ; and of the certainty and excellency of the joys of heaven ; and of the certainty and terror of the tor- 172 A CALL TO THE UXCOX^-ERTED. ments of hell, and the etemity of both ; and of the necessity of conversion and a holy life : steep your hearts in such con- siderations as these. Direct. 3. If you will be converted and saved, attend upon the word of God, which is the ordinary means. Read the Scripture, or hear it read, and other holy writings that do apply it ; constantly attend upon the pubhc preaching of the word. As God will lighten the world by the sun, and not by himself alone, without it ; so vdll he convert and save men by his ministers, who are the hghts of the world, Acts xxvi. 17, 18 ; Matt. v. 14. AMien he hath mu-acu- lously humbled Paul, he sendeth him to Ananias, Acts ix. 10. And when he hath sent an angel to Cornelius, it is but to bid liun send for Peter, who must tell him what he is to believe and do. Direct. 4, Betake yourselves to God, in a course of earnest, constant prayer. Confess and lament your former lives, and beg hLs grace to illuminate and convert you. Beseech him to pardon what is past, and give you his Spirit, and change your hearts and lives, and lead you in his ways, and save you fi'om temptation. And ply this work daily, and be not weary of it. Direct. 5. Presently give over your known and wilful sins, make a stand, and go that way no further. Be di'unk no more, but avoid the places and occasion of it. Cast away yom' lusts and sinfid pleasures with detestation. Curse, and swear, and rail no more ; and if you have wronged any, restore as Zaccheus did. If you will commit again your old sms, what blessing can you expect on the means of con- version ? Direct. 6. Presently, if possible, change yom* company, if it hath hitherto been bad ; not by forsaking yoiu- neces- sary' relations, but your unnecessary-, suiful companions ; and join yourselves with those that fear the Lord, and in- quire of them the way to heaven, Acts ix. 19, 26 ; Psal. XV. 4. Direct. 7. Deliver up yourselves to the Lord Jesus, as the Physician of your so-ils, that he may pardon you by his A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 173 blood, and sanctify you by his Spiint, by his word and mi- nisters, the instruments of his Spirit. " He is the wa}', the truth, and the life : there is no coming to the Father but by him," John xiv. 6 ; " nor is there any other name under heaven by which you can be saved," Acts iv. 12. Study therefore his person, and nature, and what he hath done and suffered for you, and what he is to you, and what lie -svill be, and how he is fitted to the full supply of all your neces- sities. Direct. 8. If you mean indeed to turn and live, do it speedily without delay. If you be not willing to turn to-day, you will not be willing to do it at all. Remember you are all this while in your blood ; under the guilt of many thou- sand sins, and under God's wrath, and you stand at the very brink of hell ; there is but a step between you and death. And this is not a case for a man that is well in his wits to be quiet in. Up therefore presently, and fly as for your lives ; as you would be gone out of your house if it were all on fire over your heads. Oh if you did but know what continual danger you live in, and what daily unspeak- able loss you sustain, and what a safer and sweeter hfe you might live, you Avould not stand trifling, but presently turn. Multitudes miscany that wilfully delay when they are con- vinced that it must be done. Your lives are short and un- certain ; and what a case are you in, if you die before you thoroughly turn ! You have staid too long already ; and wronged God too long ; sin getteth strength and rooting ; while you delay, } Our conversion will grow more hard and doubtful. You have much to do, and therefore put not all off to the last, lest God forsake you, and give you up to yourselves, and then you are undone for ever. Direct. 9. If you will tm'n and live, do it unreservedly, absolutely, and universally. Think not to capitulate with Christ, and divide your heart between him and the world, and to part -with some sins and keep the rest ; and to let go that which yom- flesh can spare. This is but self-deluding ; you must in heart and resolution forsake all that you have, or else you cannot be his disciples, Luke xiv, 26, 33. If 174 A CALL TO THE L^NCONTERTED. you will not take God and heayen for your portion, and lay all below at the feet of Christ, but you must needs also have your good things here, and have an earthly portion, and God and glory is not enough for you ; it is m vain to dream of salvation on these terms ; for it Avill not be. If you seem never so religious, if yet it be but a carnal righte- ousness, and the flesh's prosperity, or pleasure, or safet)"", be still excepted in yom* devotedness to God ; this is as certain a way to death as open profaneness, though it be more plausible. Direct. 10. If you will turn and liv^, do it resolvedly, and not stand still deHberating, as if it were a doubtful case. Stand not wavering, as if you were yet uncertain whether God or the flesh be the better master ; whether heaven or hell be the better end ; or whether sin or holiness be the better way : but away with your former lusts, and presently, habitually, and fixedly resolve : be not one day of one mind, and the next of another ; but be at a point with all the world, and resolvedly give up yourselves, and all you have, to God. Xow, while you are reading or hearing this, re- solve. Before you sleep another night, resolve. Before you stir fi*om the place, resolve. Before Satan hath time to take you off, resolve. You will never tm-n indeed tiU you do resolve ; and that with a firm, imchangeable resolu- tion. So much for the dii-ections. And now I have done my part in this work, that you may turn at the call of God and live. ^"^Tiat wiU become of it, I cannot tell. I have cast the seed at God's command ; but it is not in my power to give the increase. I caff go no fm-ther with my message, I cannot biing it to your hearts, nor make it work : I cannot do your parts for you to entertain it, and consider of it ; nor can I do God's part, by opening your heart, to cause you to entertain it ; nor can I shew you heaven or hell to your eyesight, nor give you new and tender hearts. If I knew what more to do for your conversion, I hope I should do it. But, O thou that art the gi*aoious Father of spirits, that bast sworn thou delightcst not in the death of the wicked. A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 175 but rather that they turn and live ; deny not thy blessing to these persuasions and directions, and sutfer not tfaire en«- mies to triumph in thy sight ; and the great deceiver of souls to prevail over thy Son, thy Spirit, and thy word. O pity poor unconverted sinners, that have no hearts to pity or help themselves : command the blind to see, and the deaf to hear, and the dead to live, and let not sin and death be able to resist thee. Awaken the secure ; resolve the unresolved ; confirm the wavering : and let the eyes of sinners, that read these lines, be next employed in weeping over their sins ; and bring them to themselves, and to thy Son, before their sins have brought them to perdition. If thou say but the word, these poor endeavours shall prosper, to the winning of many a soul to their everlasting joy, and thine everlasting glory. Amen. FORMS OF PRAYER, Five Prayers : one for Families : one for a Pcniterd Sinner • one for the Lord's Day : one for Children and Servants: one in the method of the Lord's Prayer, being an Exposition of it: for the use of those only who need such helps. Two reasons moved me to annex these prayers : 1. I ob- serve that abundance of people, who have some good desires, do forbear, through disabihty, to worship God in their famihes, who I hope woidd do it, if they had some helps. And though there be many such extant, yet few of these poor families have the books, and I can give them my own at a little cheaper rate than I can buy others to give them. 2. Some that seem to have been brought to true repen- tance and newness of life, by God's blessing, on the reading of my books, have earnestly entreated me to write them a form of prayer for their families, because long disuse hath left them unable to pray before others. For the service of God, and the good of men, I am con- tented to beai' the censures of those who account all forms of book-prayers to be sin ; for in an age when pride (the fiither) and ignorance (the mother) hath bred superstition (the daughter), and taught men to think that God as fondly valueth their several modes of speaking to him as they do themselves, and thinketh as contemptuously of the contrary as they, the question whether form or no form, book or no book, hath been resolved unto such tragical and dii'eful effects, that I were too tender, if a censure should dis- courage rae. A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 177 A Prayer for Families^ Morning and Evening. Almighty, all-seeing, and most gracious God, the world and all therein is made, maintained, and ordered by thee : thou art everywhere present, being more than the soul of all the world. Though thou art revealed in thy glory to those only that are in heaven, thy grace is still at work on earth to prepare men for that glory : thou madest us not as the beasts that perish, but with reasonable, immortal souls, to know, and seek, and serve thee here, and then to live with all the blessed in the everlasting sight of thy heavenly glory, and the pleasures of thy perfect love and praise. But we are ashamed to think how foolishly and sinfully we have forgotten and neglected our God and our souls, and our hopes of a blessed immortality, and have overmuch minded the things of this visible, transitory world, and the pros- perity and pleasure of this corruptible flesh, which we know must turn to rottenness and dust. Thou gavest us a law which was just and good, to guide us in the only way to life ; and when by sin we had undone ourselves, thou gavest us a Sa\dour, even thy Eternal Word made man, who by his holy life and bitter sufferings reconciled us to thee, and both purchased salvation for us, and revealed it to us, better than an angel from heaven could have done, if thou hadst sent him to us sinners on such a message : but alas, how light have we set by our Redeemer, and by all that love which thou hast manifested by him ! and how little have we studied and understood, and less obeyed, that covenant of grace which thou hast made by him to lost mankind ! But, O God, be merciful to us vile and miserable sinners ; forgive the sins of our natural pravity and the follies of our youth, and all the ignorance, negligence, omissions and commissions of our Hves : and give us true repentance for them, or else we know that thou wilt not forgive them. Our life is but as a shadow that passeth away, and it is but as a moment till we must leave this world, and appear be- fore thee to give up our account, and to speed for ever as M 178 A CALL TO THE L'^N'COX^'ERTED. here we have prepared. Should we die before thou haot turned our hearts fi'om this sinful flesh and world to thee by true faith and repentance, we shall be lost for evermore. Oh woe to us that ever we were born, if thou forgive not our sins, and make us not holy, before this short, uncertain life be at an end ! had we all the riches and pleasures of this world, they would shortly leave us in the greater sor- rows. We know that all our life is but the time which thy mercy allotteth us to prepare for death ; therefore we should not put off our repentance and preparation to a sick bed : but now, Lord, as if it were our last and djing words, we earnestly beg thy pardoning and sanctifWng grace, through the merits and intercession of oiu* Redeemer. O thou that hast pitied and saved so many miUions of miserable sinners, pity and save us also, that we may glorify- thy grace for ever : surely thou dehghtest not in the death of sinners, but rather that they return and live : hadst thou been unwilling to shew mercy, thou wouldst not have ransomed us by so precious a price, and still entreat us to be reconciled unto thee : we have no cause to distrust thy truth or goodness, but we are afraid lest unbelief, and pride, and h}-pocrisy, and a worldly, fleshly mind, should be our ruin. O ?ave us from Satan, and this tempting world, but especially from ourselves : teach us to deny all ungodliness and fleshly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this world. Let it be our chiefest daily work to please thee, and to lay up a treasure in heaven, and to make sure of a blessed life with Christ, and quietly to trust thee with soul and body. Make us faithful in our callings, and our duties to one another, and to all men, to our superiors, equals, and inferiors : bless the queen, and all in authority, that we may live a quiet and peaceable Hfe in all godliness and honesty : give wise, holy, and peaceable pastors to all the churches of Christ, and holy and peaceable minds to the people : convert the heathen and mfidel nations of the world; and cause us, and all thy people, to seek first the hallowing of thy name, the coming of thy kingdom, the doing of thy will on earth as it is done in heaven : give us our daily bread, even all things necessary A CALL TO THE UlSrCONVERTED. 179 to life and godliness, and let us be therewith content. For- give us our daily sins, and let thy love and mercy constrain us to love thee above all : and for thy sake to love our neighbours as ourselves ; ahd in all our dealings to do justly and mercifully, as we would have others do by us. Keep us from hurtful temptations, from sin, and from thy judg- ments, and from the mahce of our spiritual and corporal enemies ; and let all our thoughts, affections, passions, words, and actions, be governed by thy word and Spirit to thy glory ; make all our religion and obedience pleasant to us ; and let our souls be so delighted in the praises of thy kingdom, thy power, and thy glory, that it may secure and sweeten our labour by day, and our rest by night, and keep us in a longing and joyful hope of the heavenly glory : and let the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God our Father, and the communion of the Holy Spirit, be with us now and for ever. Amen. A Confession and Prayer for a Penitent Sinner. O most great, most wise, and gracious God, though thou hatest all the workers of iniquity, and canst not be recon- ciled unto sin ; yet through the mediation of thy blessed Son, -with pity behold this miserable sinner who casteth himself down at the footstool of thy grace. Had I lived to those high and holy ends, for which I was created and re- deemed, I might now have come to thee in the boldness and confidence of a child, in assurance of thy love and favour ; but I have played the fool and the rebel against thee ! I have wilfully forgotten the God that made me, and the Saviour that redeemed me, and the endless glory which thou didst set before me : I forgot the business which I was sent for into the world ; and have lived as if I had been made for nothing, but to pass a few days in fleshly j^lcasure, and pamper a carcass for the worms : I wilfully forgot w hat it is to .be a man, who had reason giveii liiin to rule his flesh, iiv.d io know his God, and to foresee his death, and 180 A CALL TO THE UNCON^^ERTED. the state of immortality : and I made my reason a servant to my senses, and lived too like the beasts that perish. Oh the precious time which I have lost, which all the world cannot call back ! Oh the calls of grace, which I have ne- glected ! Oh the calling of God, which I have resisted ! the wonderful love which I unthankfully rejected ! and the manifold mercies which I have abused, and turned into wantonness and sin ! How deep is the guilt which I have contracted ! and how great are the comforts which I have lost ! I might have lived all this while in the love of thee my gracious God ; and in the deUght of thy holy word and ways ; in the daily sweet foresight of heaven, and in the joy of the Holy Ghost : if I would have been ruled by thy righteous laws : but I have hearkened to the flesh, and to this M-icked and deceitful world, and have preferred a short and sinful life before thy love and endless glory. Alas, what have I been doing since I came into the world ? Folly and sin have taken up my time. I am ashamed to look back upon the years that I have spent ; and to think of the temptations that I have j'ielded to. Alas, what trifles have enticed me from my God ! How little have I had for the holy pleasures which I have lost ! Like Esau, I have profanely sold my birthright for one morsel, to please my fancy, my appetite, and my lust ; I have set hght by all the joys of heaven : I have unkindly despised the goodness of my Maker ; I have slighted the love and gi-ace of my Re- deemer ; I have resisted thy Holy Spu'it, silenced my own conscience, and grieved thy ministers and my own faithful friends, and have brought myself into this woefid case, wherein I am a shame and burden to myself, and God is my terror, who should be only my hope and joy. Thou knowest my secret sins, which are unknown to men ; thou knowest all their aggravations. My sins, O Lord, have found me out. Fears and sorrows overwhelm me ! If I look behind me, I see my Avickedness pursue my soul, and, as an army, ready to overtake me. and devour me. If I look before me, I see the just and dreadful judgment, and I know th:H thou wilt not acquit the guilty. If I look within A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 181 me, I see a dark defiled heart. If I look without me, I see a world still offering fi-esh temptations to deceive me. If I look above me, I see thine offended dreadful Majesty ; and if I look beneath me, I see the place of endless torment, and the company which I deserve to suffer with. I am afraid to live, and more afraid to die. But yet when I look to thy abundant mercy, and to thy Son, and to thy covenant, I have hope. Thy goodness is equal to thy greatness ; thou art love itself, and thy mercy is over all thy works. So wonderfully hath thy Son conde- scended unto sinners, and done and suffered so much for their salvation, that if yet I should question thy Avillingness to forgive, I should but add to all my sins, by dishonouring that matchless mercy which thou dost design to glorify. Yea more, I find upon record in thy word, that through Christ thou hast made a covenant of grace, and act of ob- livion, in which thou hast already conditionally but freely pardoned all ; granting them forgiveness of all their sins, without any exception, whenever by unfeigned faith and re- pentance they turn to thee by Jesus Christ. And thy pre- sent mercy doth increase my hope, in that thou hast not cut me off, nor utterly left me to the hardness of my heart, but shewest me my sin and danger, before I am past remed}-. O, therefore, behold this prostrate sinner, which with the publican smiteth on his breast, and is ashamed to look up towards heaven : " O God, be merciful to me a sinner." I confess not only my original sin, but the foUies and furies of my youth, my manifold sins of ignorance and knowledge, of negligence and wilfulness, of omission and connnission ; against the law of nature, and against the grace and gospel of thy Son ; forgive and save me, O my God, for thy abun- dant mercy, and for the sacrifice and merit of thy Son, and for the promise of forgiveness which thou hast made through him, for in these alone is all my trust. Condemn me not who condemn myself. O thou that hast opened so precious a fountain for sin and for uncleanness, wash me thoroughly from my A\ackedness, and cleanse me from my sin. Though thy justice might send me presently to hell, let mercy 182 A CALL TO THE UNCOX^TIRTED. triumph in my salvation. Thou hast no pleasure in the death of sinners, but rather that they repent and Hve : if my repentance be not such as thou requirest, O soften this hardened, flinty heart, and give me repentance unto life. Turn me to thyself, O God of my salvation, and cause thy face to shine upon me. Create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit Avithin me." Meet not this poor, re- turinng prodigal, in thy -wrath, but with the embracement of thy tender mercies. Cast me not from thy presence, and sentence me not to depart from thee with the workers of iniquity. Thou who didst patienth' endure me when I despised thee, refrise me not now I seek imto thee, and here in the dust implore thy mercy. Thou didst convert and pardon a wicked Manasseh, and a persecuting Saul. And there are multitudes in heaven, who were once thine ene- mies. Glorify also thy superabounding grace, in the for- giveness of my abounding sins. I ask not for Uberty to sui again, but for deliverance from the sinning nature. O give me the renewing Spirit of thy Son, which may sanctify all the powers of my soul. Let me have the new and heavenly birth and nature, and the Spu-it of adoption to reform me to thine image, that I may be holy as thou art holy. Illuminate me with the saving knowledge of thyself, and thy Son Jesus Chiist. O fill me with thy love, that my heart may be wholly set upon thee, and the remembrance of thee be my chief deUght : let the freest and sweetest of my thoughts run after thee : and the freest and sweetest of my discom*se be of thee, and of thy glory, and of thy kingdom, and of thy word and wap ! O let my treasure be laid up in heaven, and there let me daily and dehghtfully converse. Make it the great and daily business of my devoted soul, to please thee, and to honom- thee, to promote thy kingdom, and to do thy will I Put thy fear into my heart, that I may never depart from thee. This world hath had too much of my heart already ; let it now be crucified to me, and I to it, by the cross of Christ : let me not love it nor the things which are therem ; but having food and raiment, cause me therewith to be content. A CALL TO THE HNCOXVERTED. 183 Destroy in me all fleshly lusts, that I may not live after the flesh, but the Sfjirit. Keep me fi'om the snares of wicked company, and from the counsel and ways of the ungodly. Bless me Avith tlio helpful communion of the saints, and with all the means that thou hast appointed to fm-ther our sanc- tification and 'salvation. Oh that my ways were so directed, that I might ket.'p thy statutes ! Let me never return agaia to folly, nor fortret the covenant of my God : help me to quench the first motion of sin, and to abhor all sinfid de- sires and thoughts : and let thy Spirit strengthen me against all temptations ; that I may conquer and endure to the end. Prepare me for sufferings, and for death and judgment; that when I must leave this 'sinful world, I may peld up my departing soul with joy into the faithful hands of my dear Redeemer ; that I be not numbered with the ungodly, which die in their unpardoned sin, and pass into everlastmg miser}' ; but may be found in Christ, haAang the righteous- ness which is of God by faith ; and may attain to the resur- rection of the just ; that so the remembrance of the sin and miseries fi'om which thou hast delivered me, may further my perpetual thanks and praise to thee my Creator, my Re- deemer, and my Sanctlfier. And oh that thou wouldst call and convert the miserable nations of idolaters and infidels, and the multitudes of un- godly h}-pocrites, who have the name of Christians, and not the truth, and power, and life. O send forth labourers in- to thy harvest, and let not Satan hinder them. Prosper thy gospel, and the kingdom of thy Son, that sinners may more abundantly be converted to thee, and this earth may be made Hke unto heaven ; that when thou hast gathered us all into unity with Christ, we may all, -with perfect love and joy, ascribe to thee the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen. 184 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. A Form of Praise and Prayer for the Lord's Day. Glorious Jehovah, while angels and perfected spirits are praising thee in the presence of thy glory, thou hast allowed and commanded us to take our part in the presence of thy grace : we have the same most holy God to praise ; and though we see thee not, our Head and Sa^^our seeth thee, and our faith discerneth thee in the glass of thy holy works and word. Though we are sinners, and unworthy, and cannot touch those holy things, \N'ithout the marks of our pollution ; yet we have a great High Priest vAt\\ thee, who was separated from sinners, holy, harmless, and undefiled, who appeareth for us, in the merits of his spotless life and sacrifice, and by whose hands only we dare presume to pre- sent a sacrifice to the most holy God. And thou hast or- dained this day of holy rest, as a tj-pe and means of that heavenly rest with the triumphant church to which we as- pire, and for which we hope. Thou didst accept Jheir lower praise on earth, before they celebrated thy praise in glory : accept ours also by the same Mediator. Glory be to thee, O God, in the highest : on earth peace, good- will towards men. Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Al- mighty, who wast, and art, and art to come ; eternal, with- out beginning or end ; immense, without all bounds or mea- sure ; the infinite Spirit, Father, Word, and Holy Ghost ; the infinite Life, L^nderstanding, and A^'ill, infinitely power- ful, wise, and good ; of thee, and through thee, and to thee are all things ; to thee be glory for evermore. All thy works declare thy glory ; for thy glorious perfections apjK'ar on all, and for thy glory, and the pleasure of thy holy will, didst tliou create them. The heavens, and all the hosts thereof ; the sun, and all the glorious stars ; the fire, with its motion, light, and heat ; the earth, and all that dwell thereon, with all its sweet and beauteous ornaments ; the air, and all the meteors ; the great deeps, and all that swim therein ; all are the preachers of thy praise, and shew forth the great Creator's glory. How great is that power which A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 185 made so great a world of nothing ; which with wonderful swiftness moved those great and glorious luminaries, which in a moment send forth the influences of their motion, light, and heat, through all the air, to sea and earth ! Thy power- ful life giveth life to all ; and preserveth this frame of nature which thou hast made. How glorious is that wisdom which ordereth all things, and assigneth to all their place and office, aad by its perfect law maintaineth the beauty and harmony of all! how glorious is that goodness and love, which made all good and very good ! We praise and glorify thee, our Lord and Owner ; for we and all things are thine own. AVe praise and glorify thee, our King and Ruler; for we are thy subjects, and our per- fect obedience is thy due : just are all thy laws and judgments ; true and sure is all thy word. We praise and glorify thee, our great Benefactor ; in thee we Hve, and move, and are ; all that we are, or have, or can do, is wholly from thee, the Cause of all ; and all is for thee, for thou art our End. Delightfully to love thee, is our greatest duty, and our only felicity ; for thou art love itself, and infinitely amiable. Wlien man by sin did turn away his heart from thee, be- lieved the tempter against thy truth, obeyed his senses against thy authority and wisdom, and forsaking thy fatherly love and goodness, became an idol to himself, thou didst not use him according to his desert: when we forsook thee, thou didst not utterly forsake us ; when we had lost ourselves, and by sin became thine enemies, condemned by thy law, thy mercy pitied us, and gave us the promise of a Redeemer, who in the fulness of time did assume our nature, fulfilled thy law, and suffered for our sins, and conquering death, did rise again, ascended to heaven, and is our glorified Head and Intercessor. Him hast thou exalted to be a Prince and Sa- viour, to give us repentance and remission of sins. In him thou hast given pardon and justification, reconcihation and adoption, by a covenant of grace, to every penitent believer. Of enemies, and the heirs of death, thou hast made us sons and heirs of life. We are the brands whom thou hast plucked out of the 186 A CALL TO THE I':S^COX^'ERTED. fire ; we are the captives of Satan whom thou hast redeemed ; we are the condemned sinners whom thou hast pardoned : we praise thee, we glorify thee, our merciful God, and gra- cious Redeemer. Our souls have now reflige from thv re- venging wrath. Thv promise is sm-e : Satan, and the world, and death are overcome ; our Lord is risen ; he is risen, and we shall rise through him. O death, where is thy sting ! O grave, where is thy victory ! Our Saviour is ascended to his Father and our Father, to his God and our God ; and we shall ascend ; to his hands we may commit our departing souls : our Head is glorified, and it is his will and promise that we shall be with him where he is to see his glory ; he hath sealed us thereunto by his Holy Spu-it : we were dead in sins, and he hath quickened us ; we were dark in igno- rance and unbeHef, and he hath enlightened us ; we were unholy and carnal, sold under sin, and he hath sanctified our wills, and killed our concupiscence. AYe praise and glorifH^ this Spu'it of life, with the Father and the Son, from whom he is sent to be life, and Hght, and love to oiu- dead, and dark, and disafiected souls. We are created, and redeemed, and sanctified for thy holy love, and praise, and service : O let these be the very nature of our souls, and the employ- ment and pleasure of all our Hves ! O, perfect thy weak and languid graces in us, that om- love and praise may be more perfect ! We thank thee for thy word, and sacred ordi- nances, for the comfort of the holy assembhes and commu- nion of the saints, and for the mercy of these thy holy days. But let not thy praise be here confined ; but be our daily life, and bread, and work. Fain we would praise thee with more holy and more joy- ful souls. But how can we do it with so weak a foith, and so great darkness and strangeness to thee? with so little assurance of thy favour and our salvation ? Can we rightly thank thee for the grace which wo are still in doubt of? Fain we would be Hker to those blessed souls who praise thee with- out our fears and dulness. But how can it be, while we love thee so little, and have so Uttle taste and feeling of thy love ? and whilst this load of sin doth press us doAvn, and A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 187 we are imprisoned in the remnant of om' carnal affections ? O kill this pride and selfishness, these lusts and passions. Destroy this unbelief and darkness, and aU our sins, which are the enemies of us, and of thy praise. Make us more holy and heavenly : and O bring us nearer thee in faith and love, that we may be more suitable to the heavenly employ- ment of thy praise. Vouchsafe more of thy Spirit to all thy churches and ser- vants in the world : that as their darkness and selfishness, and imperfections have defiled, and di^dded, and weakened them, and made them a scandal and hardening to infidels ; so their knowledge, self-denial, and impartial love, may truly reform, unite, and strengthen them : that the glory of their holiness may win the unbeheving world to Christ. O let not Satan keep up still so large a kingdom of t}Tanny, ignorance, and wickedness in the earth, and make this world as the suburbs of hell : but let the earth be more conform- able to heaven, in the glori^dng of thy holy name, the ad- vancing of thy kingdom, and the doing of thy just and holy will. Let thy way be known upon earth, and thy saving health among all nations. Let the people praise thee, O God, let all the people praise thee ! Yea, give thy Son the heathen for his inheritance, and let his gospel enlighten the dark, forsaken nations of the earth. Let every knee bow to him, and every tongue confess that he is Christ, to their sal- vation and thy glor>'. Provide and send forth the messen- gers of thy grace through all the earth. Deliver all the churches fi-om sin, di\ision, and oppression. Let thy holy word and worship continue in these kingdoms, whilst this world endureth. Bless the queen, and all in authority, with all that wisdom, justice, and holiness, which are needful to her own and her subjects' safety, peace, and welfare. Let every congregation among us have burning and shining lights, that the ignorant and ungodly perish not for want of teaching and exhortation : and open men's hearts to receive thy word, and cause them to know the day of their visita- tion. Be merciful to the afflicted, in sickness, dangers, wants, or sorrows, according to thy goodness and their necessities. 188 A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. Let all the prayers and praises of the faithful throughout the world, sent up this day in the name of our common INIediator, by him be presented acceptable unto thee ; not- Avithstanding the imperfections and blemishes that are on them, and the censures, diA-isions, and injuries, -which in their frowardness they are guilty of against each other : let them enter as one in Christ our Head, who are too sadly and stiffly distant among themselves. Prepare us all for that world of peace, where the harmony of universal love and praise shall never be interrupted by sins, or griefs, or fears, or discord ; but shall be everlastingly perfect to our joy and to thy glory, through our glorified Mediator, who taught us when we pray to say. Our Father, which art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Tliy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temp- tation, but deliver us from e\dl : for thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen. A short Prayer for Children and Servants. Ever-living and most gracious God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! infinite is thy power, thy wisdom and thy goodness ! Thou art the Maker of all the world, the Re- deemer of lost and sinful man, and the Sanctifier of the elect ! Thou hast made me a li\ing, reasonable soul, placed awhile in this flesh and Avorld to know, and love, and serve thee, my Creator, with all my heart, and mind, and strength, that I might obtain the reward of the heavenly glory. This should have been the greatest care, and business, and pleasure of all my life : I was bound to it by thy law ; I was invited by thy mercy. And in my baptism I was devoted to this holy life, by a solemn covenant and vow. But, alas, I have proved too unfaithfiil to that covenant ; I have forgotten and ne- glected the God, the SaA-iour, and the Sanctifier, to whom I was engaged ; and have too much served the devil, the A CALL TO THE UNCONVERTED. 189 world, and flesh, wliieh I renounced : I was bom in sin, and sinfully I have lived. I have been too careless of my immortal soul, and of the great work for which I was cre- ated and redeemed ; I have spent much of my precious time in vanity, in minding and pleasing this con*uptible flesh ; and I have hardened my heart against those mstruc- tions, by which thy Spirit, and my teachers, and my own conscience, did call upon me to repent and turn to thee. And now. Lord, my convinced soul doth confess, that I have deserved to be forsaken by thee, and given over to my lust and folly, and to be cast out of thy glorious presence into damnation. But seeing thou hast given a Saviour to the world,, and made a pardoning and gTacious law, promising forgiveness and salvation through his merits, to every true penitent believer, I thankfully accept the mercy of thy cove- nant in Christ ; I humbly confess my sin and guiltiness ; I cast my miserable soul upon thy grace, and the merits and sacrifice, and intercession of my Saviour. O pardon all the sins of my corrupted heart and life ; and as a reconciled Father, take me to be thy child ; and give me thy renewing Spirit, to be in me a principle of holy life, and Hght, and love, and thy seal and witness that I am thine. Let him quicken my dead and hardened heart ; let him enlighten my dark, unbelieving mind by clearer knowledge and firm belief ; let him turn my will to the ready obedience of thy holy will ; let him reveal to my soul the wonders of thy love in Christ, and fill it with love to thee and my Redeemer, and to all thy holy word and works, till all my sinful, carnal love be quenched in me, and my sinful pleasures turned into a sweet delight in God: give me self-denial, humility,. and lowUness, and save me from the great and hateful sins of selfishness, worldliness, and pride. O set my heart upon the heavenly glory, where I hope ere long to live with Christ and all his holy ones, in the joyful sight, and love, and praise of thee, the God of love, for ever. Deny me not any of those helps and mercies, which are needful to my sanctification and salvation. And cause me to live in a continual readi- ness for a safe and comfortable death. For what would it 190 A CALX. TO THE r^COXTERTED. 'ptoSA me to irin all the worlds and lose mjr soul, my S*- Tioor, and m j God ? Additions for Children, Let thy blessing be xspon mr parents and goremors, cause them to instruct and educate me in thy fear ; and cause me with thankfulness to receive their instructions, and to love, honour, and obey them in obedience to thee. Keep me firom the snares ci evil company, temptations, and youth- ful pleasures, and let me be a companion of them that fear thee. Let my daily delight be to meditate on thy law ; and let me never have ihe mark, of the ungodly, to be a lover of pleasures more than of God. Furnish my youth with those tzeasores of wisdom and holiness, which may be diiily in- creased and used to thy glory. Addiikms far Sercamts. . And as thou hast made me a servant, make me conscion- able and &ithiul in my place and trust, and carefid of my master^s goods and buaness, as I would be if it were my own. Make me submisdve and obedient to my governors ; keep me firom self-will and pride, £rom murmuring and ir- reverent q>eeches, finom fiJsehood, slothfulness, and all deceit. That I might not be an eye-servant, pleasing my lust and fleshly appetite ; but may cheerftdly and willingly do my dn^, as believing that thou art the revenger of all nn£uth- fulness ; and may do my service not only as unto man, but as K) the Lord, expecting firom thee my chief reward- All this I beg and hope for, on the account of the merits and intercession of Jesus Christ, concluding in the words which he hath taught us : Our Father, which art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our dafly bread. And ferrgive us our trespasses, as we forgive A CALL TO THE L^'CONTERTED. 191 them that tresspass against us. And lead us not into temp- tation, but deliver us from evil ; for thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glorj', for ever. Amen. A Prayer for the Morning^ in the method of the Lorcfs Prayer^ being hut an Exposition of it. Most glorious God, who ai-t power, and wisdom, and goodness itself, the Creator of all things ; the Owner, .the Ruler, and the Benefactor of the world, but especially of thy church, and chosen ones. Though by sin original and actual we were thy enemies, the slaves of Satan and our flesh, and under thy displeasure and the condemnation of thy law ; yet thy children, redeemed by Jesus Christ thy Son, and regenerated by thy Holy Spirit, have leave to call thee their reconciled Father. For by thy covenant of grace, thou hast given them thy Son to be their Head, their Teacher, and their Sa\'iour. And in him thou hast pardon- ed, adopted, and sanctified them ; sealuig and prepaiing them by thy Holy Spirit for thy celestial kingdom, and be- ginning in them that holy life, and hght, and love, which shall be perfected with thee in everlasting glory. Oh with what wondrous love hast thou loved us, that of rebels we should be made the sons of God ! ITiou hast advanced us to this dignity, that we might be devoted wholly to thee as tlmie own, and might delightfully obey thee, and entirely love thee with all our heart ! And so might glorify thee here and for ever. O cause both us, and all thy chm-ches, and all the world, to hallow thy gi'eat and holy name ! And to live to thee as our ultimate end ! that thy shining image on holy souls may glorify thy di\'ine perfection. And cause both us and all the earth, to cast off the ty- ranny of Satan and the flesh, and to acknowledge thy supreme authority, and to become the kingdoms of thee and thy Son Jesus, by a willing and absolute subjection. O 192 A CALL TO THE rNCOXA'ERTED. perfect thy kingdom of grace in ourselves and in the -world, and hasten the kingdom of glory. And cause us and thy churches, and all people of the earth, no more to be ruled by the lusts of the flesh, and their erroneous conceits, and by self-will, wliich is the idol of the -wicked ; but by thy perfect -wisdom and holy will revealed in thy laws, make kno-wn thy word to all the world, and send them the messengers of grace and peace ; and cause men to understand, believe, and obey the gospel of salvation. And that, -with such holiness, unity, and love, that the earth, which is now too like to hell, may be made like unto heaven ; and not only thy scattered, imperfect flock, but those also who in their canial and ungodly minds do now refuse a holy life, and think thy words and ways too strict, may desire to imitate even the heavenly church ; where thou art obcA cd. and loved, and praised, -with high delight, in harmony and perfection. And because our bemg is the subject of our well-being, maintain us in the life which thou hast here given us, until the work of life be finished ; and give us such health of mind and body, and such protection and supply of all our wants, as shall best fit us for our duty ; and make us con- tented -with our daily bread, and patient if we want it. And save us fi-om the love of riches, honours, and pleasures of this world, and the pride, and idleness, and sensuality wliich they cherish ; and cause us to serve thy providence by our diligent labour, and to serve thee faithfully with all that thou givest us ; and let us not make pro-vision for the flesh, to satisfy its desii'es and lusts. And we beseech thee of thy mercy, through the sacrifice and propitiation of thy beloved Son, forgive us all our sins, original and actual, from our birth to this hour; our omis- sions of duty, and committing of what thou didst forbid ; our sins of heart, and word, and deed ; our sinfiil thoughts and affections, our sinfid passions and discontents ; our secret and our open sins ; our sins of negligence, and ignor- ance, and rashness ; but especially our sins against know- A CALL TO THE UNCON V'KKTED. 193 ledge and conscience, -which have made the deepest gaiilt and wounds. Spare us, O Lord, and let not our sin so find us out as to be our rum ; but let us so find it out as truly to repent and turn to thee ! Especially punish us not with the loss of thy grace I Take not thy Holy Spirit fi'om us, and deny us not his assistance and holy operations. Seal to us by that Spirit the pardon of our sins, and lift up the light of thy countenance upon us, and give us the joy of thy favour and salvation. And let thy love and mercy to us fill us not only with thankfulness to thee, but with love and mercy to our brethren and our enemies, that we may heartily forgive them that do us wTong, as through thy grace we hope to do. And for the time to come, suffer us not to cast ourselves ■wilfully into temptations, but carefully to avoid them, and resolutely to resist and conquer what we cannot avoid ; and O mortify those inward sins and lusts, which are our constant aud most dangerous temptations. And let us not be tempted by Satan or the world, or tried by thy judg- ments, above the strength which thy grace shall give us. Save us from a fearless confidence in our own strength ; and let us not dally with the snare, nor taste the bait, nor play with the fire of -vvrath. But cause us to fear and de- part fi-om evil ; lost before we are aware, we be entangled and overcome, and wounded with om' guilt and with thy wrath, and our end should be worse than our beginning. Especially save us from those radical sins of error and un- belief, pride, h}-pocrisy, hard-heartedness, sensuality, sloth- fulness, and the love of this present world, and the loss of our love to thee, to thy kingdom, and thy ways. And save us from the malice of Satan and of wicked men, and fi-om the e^ils which our sins would bring upon us. And as we crave all this from thee, we humbly tender our praises with our future service to thee ! Thou art the King of all the world, and more than the life of all the living ! Thy kingdom is everlasting ; wise, and just, and mcrc-iiuj. is thy government Blessed ai'c they that arc 194 A CALl. TO THE I^NCONVKKTED. faithful subjects ; but who liath hardened himself against thee, and hath prospered ? The mIioIc creation prochiimeth thy perfection. But it is heaven -where the blessed see thy glory, and the glory of our Redeemer ; where the angels and saints behold ti^ee, admire thee, adore thee, love thee, and praise thee with triumphant, jo\-ful songs, the holy, holy, holy God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, who w\as, and is, and is to come ; of thee, and through thee, and to tliee are all things. To thee be gloiy for ever. Amen. The Creed. I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of hea- ven and earth : And in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, "Wlio was conceived by the Holy Ghost, Born of the Virgin Mary, Suffered under Pontius Pilate, Was crucified, dead, and buried ; He descended into hell ; The third day he rose again from the dead ; He ascended into heaven. And sitteth on the right hand of God, the Father Almighty ; From thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead. I believe in the Holy Ghost ; The Holy Catholic Cliurch : The communion of saints ; The forgiveness of sins ; The re- surrection of the body ; And the life everlasting. Amen. The Ten Commandments. T. 1 am the Lord thy God which have brought thee out of the land of Fg} pt, out of the house of bondage. Thou shalt have no other gods before inc. II. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing tliat is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, orth;;t is in tlic water under the earth : thou shalt not bow down tliysolf to them, nor serve them : for I the Lord thy God am a joidous God, visiting the iiii- qiiity of the father?; upon tlic chihhv'ii unln tlio thir.-J A CALL TO THE UXCONVERTED. 105 loLirth generation of them that hate me ; and shewuig mercy unto thousands of them that love me and keep my command- ments. III. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain ; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain. IV. Remember the sabbath-day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour and do all thy work : but the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God : in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, no.v thy daughter, thy man- servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates: for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day : Avherefore the Lord blessed the sabbath-day and hallowed it. V. Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. VI. Thou shalt not kill. VII. Thou shalt not commit adultery. VIII. Thou shalt not steal. IX. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neigh- bour. X. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thui^ that is thy neighbour's. THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVEE.; HIS PASSING PRAYER, HtCOMMESDIXO HIS DEPAHTIXO SPIRIT TO CHBIST, TO BE RECEITEO BT BIX | Prepared for the Funeral of ilary the teidoic, first of Francis Charltan, £sq., and afttr Jhoaias Hanmer, Esq.; and partly preached at St Mary Magdalen'* Ch jr:'i, 111 Milk Street, London, and now, at the desire of ker Daughter, lefori: her death, reprinted. TO THE READER. Reader, The person whose death did occasion this discourse was one that about five years ago removed from her ancient habitation, at Appley, in Shropshire, to Kidderminster, where she lived under my pastoral care till I was come up to London ; and before she had Hved there a twelvemonth (for thither she removed) she died of the fever, then very common in the city. She lived among us an example of prudence, gravity, sobriety, righteousness, piety, charity, and self-denial, and was truly what I have described her to be, and much more; for I use not to flatter the hving, much less the dead. And though I had personal acquaint- ance with her for no longer a time than I have mentioned, yet I think it worthy the mentioning, which I understand by comparing her last years with what is said of her former time, by those that were then nearest to her, and so were at her death, that whereas (as I have said) sudden passion was the sin that she was wont much to complain of, she had not contented herself with mere complainings, but so effec- tually resisted them, and applied God's remedies for the heahng of her nature, that the success was very much ob- served by those about her, and the change and cure so gi-eat herein, as was a comfort to her nearest relations that had the benefit of her converse ; which I mention as a thing that shews us, 1. That even the infirmities that are found in nature and temperature of body are curable, so far as they fall under the domuiion of a sanctified will. 2. That 200 TO THE REABFn. even in age, when such passions usually get ground, and in- firmities of mind increase with infirmities of body, yet grace can effectually do its work. 3. That to attend God in his means, for the subduing of any corruption, is not in vain. 4. That as God hath promised growth of grace, and flourish- ing in old age, so aH lus way we ma^' expect the fulfilHng of his promise. 5. That as grace increaseth, infirmities and corruptions of the soul will vanish. This makes me call to mind that she was once so much taken with a sermon which I preached at the funeral of a holy aged woman,* and so sensibly oft recited the text it- self as much affecting her — " For which cause we faint not ; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day," &c. 2 Cor. iv. 16, 17 ; that I am persuaded both the text itself, and the example opened (and well knoAvn) to her, did her much good. Her work is done, her enemies are conquered (except the remaining fruits of death upon a corrupting body, which the resurrection must conquer), her danger, and temptations, and troubles, and fears, are at an end. She shall no more be discomfited with evU tidings ; nor no more partake with a militant church in the sorrows of her diseases or distresses. We are left -within the reach of Satan's assaults and mahce, and of the rage and violence which pride, and faction, and Cainish en\y, and enmity to serious holiness, do ordinarily raise against Christ's followers in the world. TVe are left among the lying tongues of slanderous, malicious men, and dwell in a -wilderness among scorpions ; where the sons of Belial, like Xabal, are such that a man cannot speak to them, 1 Sam. xxv. 17. The best of them is as a brier, the most upright sharper than a thorn hedge, Mic. vii. 4. But the sons of Befial shall be all of them as thorns * Grood old Mrs Doughty, sometime of Shrewsbury, who had long walked with God and longed to be with him, and was among us an ex- cellent example of holiness, blamelessness, contempt of the world, con- stancy, patience, humility, and (which makes it strange) a great and con- stant desire to die, though she was still complaining of doubtings, and weakness of assurance. TO THL liEADER. thrust awa}-, because they cannot be taken with hands ; but the man. that shall touch them must be fenced with iron, and the staff of a spear, and they shall be utterly burned with fire in the same place," 2 Sam. xxiii. 6, 7. We are left among our weak, distempered, sinful, afflicted, lament- ing friends ; the sight of whose calamities, and participation of their sufferings, maketh us feel the strokes that fall upon so great a number, that we are never like to be fi*ee fi*om pain. But she is entered into the land of peace, where pride and faction are shut out ; where serpentine enmity, malice, and fmy, never come ; where there is no Cain to envy and destroy us ; no Sodomites to rage against us, and in their blindness to assault our doors ; no Abithophels to plot our ruin ; no Judas to betray us ; no false witnesses to accuse us ; no Tertullus to point us out as pestilent fellows, and movers of sedition among the people ; no Rehum, Shimshai, or their society, lo nersuade the rulers that the serv ants ol the God of heaven are hurtful unto kings, and against their interest and honour, Ezra iv. 9, 12-14, 22 ; V. 11; no rabble to cry, " Away with thom, it is not fit that they should live ;" no Demas that will forsake us for the love of present things ; no such contentious, censorious fi iends as Job's to afflict us, by adding to our affliction ; no cursed Ham to dishonour parents ; no ambitious, rebel- lious Absalom to molest us, or to lament ; no sinful, scanda- lous, or impatient friends to be our grief : and, which is more than all, no earthly, sinful inclinations in ourselves; no pas- sions or infirmities ; no languisliings of soul ; no deadness, dulness, hard-heartedness, or weaknesses of grace ; no back- wardness to God, or estrangedness fi^om him, nor fears or doubtings of his love, nor fi:*owns of his displeasure. None of these do enter into that serene and holy region, nor ever interrupt the joy of saints. The great work is yet vipon our hands, to fight out the good fight, to finish our course, to run with patience the remainder of the race that is before us ; and as we must look to Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith, as our great Exemplar, so must we look to his saints and martyrs 202 TO THE READER. as our encouraging examples under him. Put the case you ■were now thing (and oh, how near is it, and how sure) ! what would you need most, if the day were come ? That is it that you need most now. Look after it speedily while you have time. Look after it seriously, if you have the hearts of men, and sin have not turned you into idiots or blocks. \Miat a disgrace is it to mankind, to hear men conunonly at death cry out, Oh! for a Uttle more time. And, Oh ! for the opportunities of grace again. And, Oh ! how shall I enter upon eternity thus imprepared? as if they had never heard or known that they must die till now. Had you not a life's time to put these questions? And should you not long ago have got them satisfactorily resolved? And justly doth God give over some to that greater shame of human nature, as not to be called to their wits, even by the approach of death itself; but as they con- tenrned everlasting life in their health, God justly leaveth them to be so sottish as to venture presumptuously with unrenewed souls upon death ; and the conceit that they are of the right church, or party, or opinion, or that the priest hath absolved them, doth pass with them for the necessary preparation ; and well it were for them if these would pass them currently into heaven. But, oh, what heart can now conceive how terrible it is for a new-departed soul to find itself remedilessly disappointed, and to be shut up in flames and desperation, before they would beHeve that they were in danger of it ! Reader, I beseech thee, as ever thou believest that thou must shortly die, retire fi-om the crowd and noise of worldly vanity and vexation. O, bethink thee, how Httle a while thou must be here, and have use for honour, and favour, and wealth ; and what it is for a soul to pass into heaven or hell, and to dwell among angels or de^'ils for ever ; and how men should live, and watch, and pray, that are near to such a change as this. Should I care what men call me (by tongue or pen), should I care whether I hve at Hberty or in prison, when I am ready to die, and have matters of infinite moment before me to take me up? Honour or dishonour, TO THE READER. 203 liberty or prison, are words of no sound or signification, scarce to be heard or taken notice of, to one of us that are just passing to God, and to everlasting life. The Lord have mercy upon the distracted world! How strangely doth the de\'il befool them in the daylight, and make them needlessly trouble themselves about many things, when one thing is needful ; and heaven is talked of (and that but heartlessh- and seldom), while fleshly pro\'ision only is the prize, the pleasui'e, the business of their lives. Some are diverted fi-om their serious preparation for death by the beastly avocations of lust, and gaudiness, and meats, and drinks, and childish sports ; and some by the businesses of ambition and covet- ousness, contriving how to feather their nests, and exercise their wills over others in the world ! And some that will seem to be doing the work, are diverted as dangerously as others, by contending about formalities and ceremonies, and destroying charity and peace ; rending the church, and strengthening factions, and carrying on interests hy-pocriti- cally under the name of religion, till the zeal that St James describeth (James iii. 13, 14, &c.), ha^^ng consumed all that was like to the zeal of love and hohness in themselves, proceed to consume the servants and interest of Christ about them, and to bite and devoiu-, till their Lord come and find them in a day that they looked not for him, smiting their fellow-servants, and eating and diinking with the drunken, and cut them asunder, and appoint them their portion with the hj'pocrites, where shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, Matt. xxiv. 49-51. O study, and preach, and hear, and pray, and live, and use your brethren that differ from you in some opinions, as you would do if you were going to receive yoiu* doom, and as will then be most acceptable to your Lord! The guilt of sensuality, worldliness, ambition, of uncharitableness, cruelty, and injustice, of losing time, and betraying your souls by negHgence, or perfidiousness, and wilful sin, will lie heavier upon a departing soul, than now, in the drunken- ness of prosperity, you can think. Christ ^vt1\ never receive such souls in their extremity, unless upon repentance, by 204 TO THE READEK. faith in his blood, they ai*e washed from this pollution. It is unspeakably terrible to die, >vithout a confidence that Christ yviW receive us ; and Uttle knows the gi-aceless world ■what sincerity and simplicity in hoUness is necessary to the soundness of such a confidence. Let those that know not that they must die, or know of no life hereafter, hold on then- chase of a feather, till they find what they lost their lives, and souls, and labour for. But if thou be a Christian, remember what is thy work : thou wilt not need the favour of man, nor worldly wealth, to prevail with Chi'ist to receive thy spirit. O, learn thy last work before thou art put upon the domg of it ! The world of spu'its, to which we are passing, doth better know than this world of fleshly darkened sinners, the gi'eat dif- ference between the death of a heavenly beUever and of an earthly sensualist. Believe it, it is a thing possible to get that apprehension of the love of Christ, that confidence of his recei\ing us, and such famiUar, pleasant thoughts of om- entertainment by him, as shall much overcome the fears of death, and make it a welcome day to us when we shall be admitted into the celestial society: and the diflerence be- tween one man's death and another's, dependeth on the difference between heai't and heart, life and life, preparation and unpreparedness. If you ask me. How may so happy a preparation be made? I have told you in this following discourse, and more fully elsewhere formerly. I shall add now these directions fol- lowing. 1. Follow the flattering world no further ; come off from all expectation of felicity below; enjoy nothing under the sun, but only use it in order to your enjo}Tnent of the real, sure delight ; take heed of being too much pleased in the creature. Have you houses, and lands, and oflices, and hon- ours, and fi'iends, that ai'e veiy pleasing to you ? Take heed, for that is the killing snare ! Shut your eyes, and wink them all into nothing; and cast by your contrivances, and cai-es, and fears, and remember you have another work to do. 2. Liv* in couimuuiou with a suff«rin|j Christ : study TO THE READER. 205 well the whole life and nature of his sufferings, and the rea- son of them,, and think how desirable it is to be conformed to him. Thus, look to Jesus, that for the joy that was set before him, despised the shame, endured the cross, and the contradiction of sinners against himself. Dwell upon this example, that the image of a humbled, suffering Christ, being deeply imprinted on thy mind, may draw thy heart into a juster relish of a mortified state. Sure he is no good Christian that thinks it not better to live as Christ did (in holy poverty and sufferings in the world), than as Croesus, or Cjesar, or any such worldling and self-pleaser lived. Die daily by following Jesus with your cross, and when you have a while suffered with him, he will make you perfect, and receive your spirits, and you shall reign with him : it wonderfully prepareth for a comfortable death to live in the fellowship of the sufierings of Christ. He is most likely to die quietly, patiently, and joyfully, that can first be poor, be neglected, be scorned, be wronged, be slandered, be im- prisoned, quietly, patiently, and jojfully. K you were but at Jerusalem, you would, with some love and pleasure, go up mount Olivet, and think, Christ went this very way. You would love to see the place where he was born, the way which he went when he carried his cross, the holy gTave where he was buried (where there is a temple which pil- grims use to visit, from whence they use to bring the mark as a pleasing badge of honour) ; but how more of Christ is there in our suffering for his cause and truth, and in follow- ing him in a mortified, self-denying life, than in following him in the path that he hath trodden upon earth ! His enemies saw his cross, his grave ; his mother, his person. This did not heal their sinful souls, and make them happy ; but the cross that he calleth us to bear is a life of suffering for righteousness' sake ; in which he commandeth us to re- joice, and be exceedingly glad, because our reward is great in heaven, though all manner of evil be spoken of us falsely by men on earth, Matt. v. 11, 12. This is called a being partaker of Christ's sufferings, in which we are commanded to rejoice, that, when his glory shall be revealed, we may 206 TO THE READER. be glad also with exceeding joy," 1 Pet. iv. 13. And as the sufferings of Christ aboimd in us, so our consolation aboundeth by Christ." 2 Cor. i. 5. Till we come up to a life of wiUing mortification, and pleased, contented suffering with Christ, we are in the lower form of his school, and, as cliildi-en, shall tremble at that which should not cause our ten'or ; and, through misapprehensions of the case of a de- parting soul, shall be afraid of that which should be our joy. I am not such an enemy to the esteem of relics, but if one could shew me the veiy stocks that Paul and Silas sat in when they sung psalms in their imprisonment (Acts x^•i.), I could be contented to be put (for the like cause) into the same stocks, ^vith a special willingness and plea- sure : how much more should we be willing to be conformed to our suffering Lord in a spirit and life of true mortifica- tion ! 3. Hold communion also with his suffering members : desire not to dwell in the tents of wickedness, nor to be planted among them that flourish for a time, that may be pestroyed for ever, Psal. xcii. 6, 7. I had rather have Bradford's heart and faggot than Bonner's bishopric. It was holy Stephen, and not those that stoned him, that saw heaven opened, and the Son of man sitting at the right hand of God (Acts xii. 56), and that could jo^-fully say, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." He liveth not by faith (though he may be a hanger-on that keepeth up some pro- fession for fear of being damned) who chooseth not rather to suffer afiliction vrith the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasiu-es of sin for a season ; and esteemeth not the very reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of the world, as ha^•ing respect to the recompence of reward, Heb. xi. 25, 26. 4. Live as if heaven were open to your sight, and then dote upon the delights of worldlings if you can ; then love a life of fleshly ease and honour, better than to be with Christ, if you can. But of this I have spoken at large in other writings. Christian, make it the study and business of thy life to TO THE READER. 207 learn to do thy last work well, that work which must be done but once ; that so death, which transmits unholy souls into utter darkness and despaii', may dehver thy spirit into thy Redeemer's hands, to be received to his glory, accord- ing to that blessed promise, John xii. 26. And while I am in the flesh beg the same mercy for Thy brother and companion in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ, RICHARD BAXTER. London^ Jan. 31, 1661. 209 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." — Acts vii. 59. The birth of nature, and the new birth of grace, in their measure resemble the death of saints, which is the birth of glory. It is a bitter-sweet day, a day that is mixed of sor- row and joy, when nature must quit its familiar guest, and yield to any of these changes. Our natural birth is not without the throes, and pain, and groanings of the mother, though it transmit the child into a more large, and hght- some, and desirable habitation. Our spiritual birth is not without its humbling and heart-piercing sorrows ; and when we are brought out of darkness into the marvellous light, we leave our old companions in displeasure, whom we forsake, and our flesh repining at the loss of its sensual deUghts. And our passage into glory is not without those pangs and fears which must needs be the attendants of a pained body ready to be dissolved, and a soul that is going through so strait a door into a strange, though a most blessed place; and it leaveth our lamenting friends behind, that feel their loss, and would longer have enjoyed our company, and see not (though they believe) the glory of the departed soul. And this is our case that are brought hither this day, by an act of Providence sad to us, though joyous to our departed friend; by a voice tliat hath called her into glory, and call- ed us into this mourning plight : even us that rejoice in the thoughts of her felicity, and are not so cruel as to wish her again into this coriniptible flesh, and calamitous world, from Q 210 THE L-\ST WORK OF A BELIEVER. the glorious presence of the Lord : and yet should have kept her longer from it, for om- o-vvn and others' sakes, if oiu- wis- dom had been fit to rule, or our -wills to be fulfilled, or if our prayers must have been answered, according to the measure of om* failing apprehensions or precipitant desires. But folly must submit to the incomprehensible wisdom, and the desire of the creature must stoop to the will of the Creator. The interest of Chi-Lst must be prefeiTed when he calleth for his own, and om- temporary interest must give place : flesh must be silent and not contend, and dust must not dare to question God ; he knoweth best when his fruit is ripe, and though he wiU allow our moderate sorrows, he will not so much injure his saints as to detain them with us from their jo}-ful rest, till we are content to let them go. Thus also did blessed Stephen depart from glori- to glory from a distant sight of the glory of God, and of Jesus stand- ing at his right hand, into the immediate presence and fruition of that glor^*. But yet he must pass the nari'ow port ; enraged malice must stone him till he che : and lie must undergo the pains of mart^Tdom before he reach to the glory which he had seen. And when he was arrived in safety, he leaveth his brethren scattered in the storm, and devout men make great lamentation at his biu^al, Acts viii. 2. Though it is probable by the ordinary acceptation of the word «»S*»f tvXafitie, that they were not professed Christians, but devout prosehtes (such as Cornelius and the Ethiopian eunuch were), that biuied and thus lamented Stephen, as knowing him to be an excellent person, cruelly murdered by the raging Jews ; yet theii* example, in s case not culpable, but commendable, may be imitated O}- be- lievers, upon condition that, -with our sense of the excellency of the persons, and of our loss by their removal, we exceed them that had but a darker revelation in our jo^-frd sense of the fehcity of the translated souls. The occasion of the death of this holy man was partly that he surpassed others, as bemg ftdl of faith, and of the Holy Ghost : and partly that he plainly rebuked the bliiid and furious persecuting zeal of the Jews, and bore a most THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVKR. 211 resolute testimony of Christ. It is an ill time when men must suffer because they are good, and deserve not suffer- ing, but reward ; and they are an unhappy people that have no more grace or wit but to fight against heaven, and set themselves under the strokes of God's severest justice, by persecuting them that are dear to Christ, and faithfully per- form their duty. It is no strange thing for the zeal and interest of a faction to make men mad ; so 'mad as impla- cably to rage against the offspring of heaven, and to hate men because they are fiiithful to their great Master, and because they are against their faction ; so mad as to think that the interest of their cause requireth them to destroy the best with the greatest malice, because they stand most in their way, and to forget that Christ, the revenger of his elect, doth take all as done to him that is done to them ; so mad as to forget all the terrible threatenings of God, and terrible instances of his avenging justice against the enemies of his servants, whom he taketh as his own ; and to ruin their own reputations by seeking to defame the upright, whose names God is engaged to honour, and whose righte- ousness shall shine forth as the sun, when foolish malignity hath done its worst. When Christ had pleaded his cause effectually with Saul, that was one of the persecutors of Stephen, he maketh him confess that he was *'.^tfyas still the spuit of Stephen that was received by Christ. It sleepeth not. To confute the dream of those that talk of the sleeping of souls, or any lethargic, unintelligent, or inactive state, of so excel- lent, capacious, and active a nature, were but to dispute with sleeping men. When we say it is immortal, we mean not that it, or any creature, hath in itself a self-supporting or self-preserving sufficiency ; or that they are necessary be- ings, and not contingent ; or primitive beings, and not de- rived from another by creation. AVe know that all the world would turn to nothing in a moment if God did but withdraw his preserving and upholding influence, and but suspend that will that doth continue them. He need not exert any positive will or act for their destruction or annihi- lation. Though ejusdem est annihilare^ cnjus est creare^ none can annihilate but God ; yet it is by a positive, efficient act of will that he createth ; and by a mere cessation of the act of his preserving will he can annihilate. I mean not by any change in him, - but by willing the continuance of the creature but till such a period ; but yet he that will perpe- tuate the spirit of man, hath given it a nature (as he hath done the angels) fit to be perpetuated ; a nature not guilty of composition and elementary materiality, which might sub- ject it to con-uption. So that as there is an aptitude in iron, or silver, or gold to continue longer than grass, or flowers, or flesh ; and a reason of its duration may be given a natura rci^ from that aptitude in subordination to the will of God ; THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER, 217 SO there is such an aptitude in the nature of the soul to be immortal, which God maketh use of to the accomplishment of his will for its actual perpetuity. The heathenish Socinians, that deny the immortality of the soul (yea, worse than heathenish, for most heathens do maintain it), must deny to Christ himself, as well as to his members ; for he used the like recommendation of his soul to his Father when he was on the cross, as Stephen doth here to him. K " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," be words that prove not the sur\-i\-ing of the spirit of Stephen ; then, " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit," will not prove the surviving of the spirit of Christ. And, then, what do these infidels make of Christ, who also deny his Deity ; and consequently, make him nothing but a corpse, when his body was in the grave ? How then did he make good his promise to the penitent malefactor? " This day shalt thou be with me in paradise." But he that said, " Because I live, ye shall Hve also" (John xiv. 19), did live in the spirit, while he was put to death in the flesh, 1 Ptt. iii. 18 ; and receiveth the spirits of his servants unto life eternal, while their flesh is rotting in the grave. This \ery text is so clear for this, if there were no other, it might end the controversy with all that believe the holy Scriptures. I confess there is a sleep of souls, a metaphorical sleep in sin and in security, or else the drowsy opinions of these in- fi.dels had never found entertainment in the world ; a sleep so deep that the voice of God, in the threatenings of his word, and the alarm of his judgments, and the thimder of his warnings by his most serious ministers, prevail not to awaken the most : so dead a sleep possesseth the most of the ungodly world, that they can quietly sin in the sight of God, at the entrance upon eternity, at the doors of hell, and the caUs of God do not awaken them : so dead a sleep, that Scripture justly calls them dead, Eph. ii. 1,5; and ministers may well call them dead, for alas, it is not our voi«!e that can awake them ; they are as dead to us : we draw back the curtains to let in the light, and shew them 218 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. that judgment is at hand, and use those true but terrible arguments from wrath and hell, which we are afraid should too much frighten many tender hearers, and yet they sleep on ; and om* loudest calls, our tears, and our entreaties, cannot awaken them. We cry to them in the name of the Lord, "Awake, thou that sleepest, arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee hght," Eph. v. 14. This moral sleep and death of souls, which is the forerunner of everlasting death in misery, we cannot deny. But after death even this sleep shall cease ; and God will awaken them with his vengeance, that would not be awaked by his grace. Then, sinner, sleep under the thoughts of sin and God's displea- sure, if thou canst. There is no sleeping soul in hell ; there are none that are past feehng. The mortal stroke that layeth thy flesh to sleep in the dust, lets out a guilty soul into a world where there is no sleeping ; where there is a light irresistible, and a terror and torment, that will keep them waking. K God bid thee awake by the flames of justice, he will have no nay. Tlie first sight and feeling which will surprise thee when thou hast left this flesh, will awake thee to eternity, and do more than we could do ia time, and convince thee that there is no sleeping state for separated souls. Doct. V. Christ doth receive the spirits of the saints when they leave the flesh. Here we shall first tell you what Christ's receixing of the spirit is. The word signifieth, to take it as acceptable to himself; and it comprehendeth these particulars. 1. That Christ wOl not leave the new-departed soul to the will of Satan, its malicious enemy. How ready is he to receive us to perdition, if Christ refuse us, and receive us not to salvation ! He that now seeketh as a roaring lion night and day, as our adversary, to devour us by deceit, will then seek to devour us by execution. How glad was he when God gave hun leave but to touch the goods, and children and body of Job ! And how much more would it please his enmity to have power to torment our souls ! But the soul that fled to the arms of Christ by faith m the day THE LAST WORK OF K BELIEYER, 219 of trial, shall then find itself in the arms of Christ in the moment of its entrance upon eternity. O Christian, whether thou now feel it to thy comfort or not, thou shalt then feel it to the ravishing of thy soul, that thou didst not fly to Christ in vain, nor trust him in ,vain to be thy Saviour. Satan shall be for ever disappointed of his desired prey. Long wast thou combating -w-itli him ; frequently and strongly wast thou tempted by him. Tliou oft thoughtest it was a doubtful question, who should win the day, and whether ever thou shouldst hold out and be saved ; but when thou passest from the flesh, in thy last extremity, in the end of thy greatest and most shaking feai*s, when Satan is ready, if he might, to carry thy soul to hell ; then, even then, shalt thou find that thou hast won the day. And yet not thou, but Christ is he that hath been ^'ictorious for thee ; even as when thou livedst the life of faith, it was not thou, but Christ lived in thee, Gal. ii. 20. Thou mayst fear at thy departure, and leave the flesh with terror, and imagine that Satan will presently devour thee ; but the experience of a moment will end thy fears, and thou shalt triumph against thy conquered foe. He that saved thee fi'om the dominion of a tempting de\nl, will certainly save thee fi'om him when he would torment thee. Here he would have us that he may sift us, and get advantage on our weakness ; but Christ prayeth for us, and strengthenetli us, that our faith may not fail, Luke xxii. 31. And he that saveth us from the sin, will save us fi-om the punishment, and from Satan's fury, as he did from his fi-aud. 2. Christ's recei^dng us doth include his favourable en- tertainment and welcoming the departed soul. Poor soul, thou wast never so welcome to thy dearest friend, nor into the arms of a father, a husband or a wife, as thou shalt be then into the presence and embracements of thy Lord. Thou hearest, and readest, and partly believest, now how he loveth us, even as his spouse and members, as his flesh and bone, Eph. vi. But then thou shalt feel how he loveth thee in particular. If the angels of God have joy at thy conversion, what joy will there be in heaven at thy entrance 220 THE LAST WORK OF A BRLIKYER. into that salvation. And sure those angels ynW bid thee welcome, and concur with Christ in that triumphant joy. If a returning prodigal find himself in the arms of his father's love, and welcomed home with his kisses, and his robe and feast, what welcome then may a cleansed, conquered soul expect when it cometh into the presence of glorious love, and is purposely to be received with such demonstrations of love as may be fitted to magnify the love of God, which exceedeth all the love of man, as omnipotency doth exceed our impotency, and therefore wOl exceed it in the effects ! Though thou hast questioned here in the dark, whether thou wert welcome to Christ when thou camest to him in prayer, or when thou camest to his holy table, yet then doubt of thy welcome if thou canst. Oh had we but one moment's sense of the delights of the embraced soul that is newly received by Christ into his kingdom, it would make us think we were in heaven already, and transport us more than the disciples that saw the trans- figuration of Christ ; and make us say, in comparing this with all the glory of the world, " Master, it is good for us to be here ; " but in consideration of the full, to say. It is better to be there. But it must not be : earth must not be so happy as to have a moment's sense of the inconceivable pleasures of the received soul ; that is the reward and croAvn, and therefore not fit for us here in our conflict. But low things may, by dark resemblance, a little help us to conceive of something that is like them in a low de- gree. How would you receive your son, or husband, the next day after some bloody fight, where he had escaped with the victory? or your child, or friend, that arrived safely afl;er a long and a dangerous voyage? Would }ou not run and meet him, and with joy embrace him, if he had been many years absent, and were now come home? I tell thee, poor soul, thy Saviour hath a larger heart, and another kind of love than thou ; and other reasons of greater force to move him to bid thee welcome into his presence. 3. Christ's receiving the departed soul includeth the state of blessedness into whicli he doth receive it. If }'ou a.sk THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 221 wliat that is, I answer, it is unto himself, to be with him where he is ; and that in general is full of comfort, if there were no more ; for we know that Christ is in no ill place ; he is glorified at the " right hand of the Majesty on high," Heb. i, 3. And that the souls of the righteous, and at last their bodies, are received to himself, he often teUeth us ; " If any man serve me, let hun follow me ; and where lam, there shall also my servant be," John xii. 26. " And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and re- ceive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also," John xiv. 3. And, in the meantime, when we once are absent from the body, we are present with the Lord (2 Cor. V. 8), and that is in the building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," verse 1. Paul, therefore, desired '"to depart, and to be with Christ,'' as being far better, PhU. i. 23 ; and Christ promised the converted thief, " This day shalt thou be with me in para- dise," Luke xxiii. 43, And our state after the resurrection hath the same description, " And so shall we ever be with the Lord," 1 Thess. iv. 17. And what it shall be he de- clareth himself, " Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am ; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me," John x^-ii. 24. The soul of Lazarus (Luke x\-i.) was received into Abraham's bosom, where he is said to be comforted. The heavens receive Christ (Acts iii. 21), and therefore the heavens receive the spirits that go to him, even the spiidts of the just made perfect, Heb. xii. 23 ; that is, that are crowned with Christ in glory, and fi-eed from the imperfections and e\\ls of this Hfe. And so that is plain, though some would pervert it, that " whether we wake or sleep, we may Hve together with him," 1 Thess. v, 10. Xot whether we wake to righteousness, or sleep in sin, for such sleepers Uve not with him ; nor whether we wake by solici- tude, or sleep in security ; nor whether we naturally wake or sleep only, but whether we live, or die, and so our bodies sleep in death, yet we Uve together with him, In a word, Christ will receive us into a participation of his joy and glorj' ; into a joy as great as our nature shall be capable of, and f?22 THE L\ST WOKK OF A BEOEVER. more than "vve can now desire, and that the largest heart on earth can justly conceive of or comprehend. And because all this tells you but to the ear. stay yet but a little -while, and experimental sight and feeling shall tell you what this receiving is, even when we receive the kingdom that cannot be moved (Heb. xii. 28), and when we receive the end ol our faith, the salvation of our souls. 1 Pet. i. 9. Doct. YI. A d^ing Christian may confidently and com- fortably recommend iiis spirit to Christ, to be received by him. Though he have formerly been a grievous sinner, though at the present he be fi-ail and faults*, though he be weak in faith, and love, and duty, though his body by sickness be become imfit to serve his soul, and as to present sensibihty, acti^-ity. or joy, he seem to be past the best, or to be no- thing, though the tempter woidd aggravate his sins, and weakness, and dulness to his discom-agement. yet he may, he must, with confidence recommend his spu'it to Christ, to be received by him. O learn his doctrine. Chiistians. that you may use it in the hour of your last distress. The hour is near ; the distress will be the greatest that ever you were in. As well as we seem now while we are hearing this, oiu* timi is nigh. The mid- wife is not so necessary to the hfe of the child that receiveth it into the world, as Chi-ist's receiving will be then to our everlasting life. To say over heaitlessly these words, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," will be no more than a dead-hearted h^-pocrite may do. Such formal hp-service in life or at death doth profit nothing to salvation ; now make such necessary prepai*ation, that at death you may have well- grounded confidence that Jesus Christ will receive your spirits. 1. And fii'-st, let me biing this to the carnal, unprepared sinner. Poor sinner, what thoughts hast thou of thy dying hour, and of thy departuig soid ? I wonder at thee what thoughts thou hast of them, that thou canst sin so boldly, and five so carelessly, and talk or hear of the life to come so senselessly THE LAST WORK OF A BELIE^TER. 223 as thou dost ! Thou mightest "well think I -wronged thee, if I took thee to be such a brute as not to know that thou must die. Thy soul that brought thy body hither, that causeth it now to hear and understand, that carrieth it up and down the world, must very shortly be required of thee, and must seek another habitation. What thoughts hast thou of thy departing soul ? AVill Christ receive it ? Hast thou made sm-e of that ? Or hast thou made it thy prmci- pal care and business to make sure ? Oh, what doth in- toxicate the brains of sensual, worldly men, that they drown themselves in the cares of this life, and ride and run for transitory riches, and live upon the smoke of honour and applause, and never soberly and seriously bethink them whether Christ vdll receive theii" departed souls ! That they can fill their nnnds Avith other thoughts, and fill their mouths with other talk, and consume their time in other inconsider- able emplo}Tuents, and take no more care, and spend no more thoughts, and words, and time about the entertain- ment of their departing souls ! When they are even ready to be gone, and stand, as it were, on tiptoe; when fevers, and consumptions, and many hundred diseases are all abroad so busily distributing their summonses ; and when the gates of deatli have so many passengers crowding in, and souls a remakhig such haste away, will you not consider what shall become of yours ? Will }-ou say that you hope well, a«id you must venture ? K God had appomted you nothing to do to prepare for yom* safe passage and entertainment with Christ, you might then take up with such an answer ; but it is a mad adventure to leave all undone that is necessary to your salvation, and then to say, you must put it to the ven- ture. K you die in an unrenewed and imjustified state, it is past all ventm-e ; for it is certain that Christ will not re- ceive you. You may talk of hoping, but it is not a matter to be hoped for. Hope that God wiQ make good every word of his promise, and spare not ; but there is no more hope that Christ will receive the souls of any but of his members, than there is that he will prove a har. He never promised to save any others ; and that is not aU, but he hath 224 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. declared and professed frequently that he will not. And you are no believers if you A\ill not believe him ; and if you be- lieve him, you must believe that the unbelievers, the unre- generate, the unholy, and the workers of iniquity, shall not be received into the kingdom of heaven, for he hath professed it, John iii. 3, 36 ; Heb. xii. 14; Matt. vii. 23. If Christ would receive the souls of all, your venture then had reason for it ; or if he had left it as a thing that depended only on his unrevealed will, and not on any preparations of our o^vn, we might then have quit ourselves of the care, and cast it all on him, as being his part, and none of ours. But it is not so, I hope I need not tell you that it is not so. Believe it, the question must be now resolved, and resolved by yourselves, whether Christ shall receive yom- departed souls, or cast them off as fii-ebrands for hell. He hath made the law, and set down the terms already to which he vnll unalterably stand, and which we must trust to. It is now that you must labour to be accepted of him, " for we must aU appear before the judgment-seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done m his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad," 2 Cor. v. 10. O sirs ! this is the reason of our importunity with you. " Knowing the terror of the Lord, we persuade men," saith the apostle in the next Avords, ver. 1 1 . We know that the sentence will be just, and that it is now in your own hands what judgment then shall pass upon you. And if just now your souls were passing hence, before you went from the place you sit in, would you think any care could be too great to make sure that they should go to happiness. Oh that you would consider how much it is your own work, and how much it resteth on yom-selves what Christ shall then do with you ! Then you \vi\\ cry to him for mercy, O cast not away a miserable soul ! Lord, receive me into thy kingdom ! But now he must entreat you to be saved, and to be the people that he may then receive, and you ^-ill not heai' him. And if you will not hear him when he calleth on you, and beseecheth you to repent and to prepare, as sure as Christ is CHrist, he will not hear you when you cry and call for THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 225 mercy too late in your extremity. Read Prov. i. and you will see this is true. It is you that are to be entreated that Christ may receive you, for the umvilHngness and backward- ness is on your part. You are now poisoning your souls by sin ; and when we cannot entreat you either to forbear, or to take the vomit of repentance, yet when you are gasping and dying of your own wilful self-mm'der, you will then cry to Christ, and think he must receive you upon terms incon- sistent with his justice, holiness, and truth. But flatter not yourselves, it will not be. This is the accepted time ; be- hold, now is the day of salvation. Refuse it now, and it is lost for ever. O sirs, if this were the hour, and you were presently to be received or refused, would you blame me to cry and call to you with all the fervour of my soul, if I knew that it were in your own choice whether you would go to heaven or hell ? Why, now it is in your choice. Life and death are set before you. Christ will receive you if you "svill but come within the capacity of his acceptation. If you will not, there will then be no remedy. It is a doleful thing to observe how Satan doth bewitch poor sinners. That when time is gone, and the door of mercy is shut against them, they would think no cries too loud for mercy, and no impor- tunity too great. For Christ telleth us, that then they will cry, " iiord. Lord, open to us," Matt. xxv. 10, 11. And yet now, when the door stands open, no arguments, no ear- nestness, no tears, can entreat them to enter in. Then there is not the most senseless sinner of you all but would cry more strongly than Esau for the blessing, when his tears could find no place for repentance, Heb. xii. 16, 17 ; Lord, receive a miserable soul ! O whither shall I go if thou re- ceive me not ! I must else be tormented in those scorching flames. And yet now you will sell your bh'thright for one morsel ; for a little of Judas's or Gehazi's gain, for the ap- plause of worms, for the pleasing of your flesh that is turn- ing to corruption, for the delights of gluttony, drunkenness, sports, or lust. There is not a man of you but would then pray more earnestly than those that you now deride for p 226 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. earaest prajing, as if they whined, and were ridiculous. And yet now you vnW neither be serious in prayer, nor hear Christ, or his messengers, when he maketh it his earnest re- quest to you to come in to him that you may have hfe, John V. 40. Then you will knock when the door is shut, and cry. Lord, open to a miserable sinner ! and yet now you will not open unto him, when by his word and Spirit, his mercies and afflictions, he standeth at the door of your stubborn hearts, and calleth on you to repent and turn to God ; now our entreaties cannot so much as bring you on your knees, or bring you to one hour's serious thoughts about the state of those souls that are so near their doom. O sirs ! for your souls' sake, lay by your obstinacy. Pity those souls that then you will beg of Christ to pity. Do not you damn them by your sloth and sin in the day of yom- risitation, and then cry in vain to Christ to save them when it is too late. Yet the door of gi-ace is open, but how speedily will it be shut ! One stroke of an apoplexy, a consumption, a fever, can quickly shut it, and then you may tear your hearts with crying, Lord, open to us," and all in vain. O did you but see departed souls, as you see the corpse that is left be- hind ; did you see how they are treated at their removal from the flesh ; how some are taken and others left ; how some are welcomed to Christ, and others are abhoried, and turned over to the tormentor, and thrust out vnth. implacable indignation and disdain, Luke xiii. 28 ; Prov. i, 24, 26, 27 ; sure you would enter into serious consideration this day, what it is that makes this difference, and why Christ so useth the one and the other, and what must be done now by the soul that would be received then. Alas! men will do any thing but that which they should do. Among the supersti- tious papists the conceit of a dehverance from purgatory makes them bequeath their lands and moneys to priests and friars to pray for them when they are dead, and to ha^e other men cry to Christ to receive them, and open to them, when time is past; and yet now in the accepted time, now when it is at your clioice, and the door is open, men live THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 227 as if they were past feeling, and cared not what became of them at the last, and would not be beholden to Christ to re- ceive them, when the deceitful world hath cast them off. And now, beloved hearers all, I would make it my most earnest request to you, as one that knoweth we are all pass- ing hence, and foreseeth the case of a departed soul, that you would now, ^vithout any more delay, prepare and make sure that you may be received into the everlasting habitations : and to this end, I shall more distinctly, though briefly, tell you, 1. What souls they are that Christ will receive, and what he will not ; and, consequently, what you must do to be received. 2. What considerations should stir you up to this preparation. 1 . Nothing is more sure than that Christ will not receive, 3 . Any unregenerate, unconverted soul, John iii. 3, 5 ; INIatt. xviii. 3 ; that is, not renewed and sanctified by his Spirit, Rom, viii. 9; Heb. xii. 14; Acts xxvi. 18. They must have the new and heavenly nature that will ever come to heaven. Without this you are morally incapable of it. Heaven is the proper inheritance of saints. Col. i. 12. This heavenly nature and Spirit is your earnest : if you have this you are sealed up unto salvation, 2 Cor. i. 22 ; Eph. i. 13 ; iv. 30. 2. Christ will receive none but those that make it now their work to lay up a treasure in heaven, rather than upon the earth, ISIatt. -vi. 20, 21 ; and that seek it in the first place. Matt. vi. 33 ; and can be content to part with all to purchase it. Matt. xiii. 44, 46 ; Luke xiv. 33 ; xviii. 22. An earthly-minded worldling is incapable of heaven in that condition, Phil. iii. 17, 18; Luke xvi. 13. You must take it for your portion, and set your hearts on it, if ever you will come thither. Matt. vi. 21; Col. iii. 1-3. 3 . Christ will receive no soul at last, but such as sincerely received him as their Lord and Saviour now, and gave up themselves to him, and received his word, and yield obe- dience to it, and received his Spirit, and were cleansed by him from their iniquities, John i. 11, 12; Luke xix. 27. " That all they might be dnmnerl thnt believed not the truth, 228 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. but had pleasure in unrighteousness," 2 Thess. ii. 10, 12. Tliey are God's own words ; be not offended at them, but believe and fear. " He hateth all the workers of iniquity," and will say to them, " Depart from me, I know you not," Psalm V. 5 ; Matt. 23. 4. He wiD receive none but those that loved his servants, that bore his holy image, and received them according to their abilities. Matt. xxv. 40, 41, &c. And if he will say to those that did not entertain them, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire," what wUl he say to those that hate and persecute them? 1 John iii. 14 ; v. 2. 5. He will receive none but those that live to him in the body, and use his gifts and talents to his service, and make it their chief business to serve, and honour, and please him in the world. Matt. xxv. 21, 26; 2 Cor. v. 9, 15; Gal. \i. 7,8; and live not to the pleasing of the flesh, but have cru- cified it and its lusts, Rom. viii. 1,13; Gal. v. 24. Examine all these texts of Sciipture (for the matter is worthy of your study), and you vnll see what souls they are that Christ will then receive, and what he will reje«t. You may see also what you must now be and do, if you will be then received. If you are not regenerate by the Spirit of God (though you may be sacramentally regenerate in baptism) ; if you are not justified by Christ (though you may be absolved by a minister) ; if you seek not heaven with higher estimation and resolutions than any felicity on earth, and take not God for your satisfying portion (though you be never so religious in subser\-iency to a fleshly, worldly happiness) ; if you receive not Christ as your only Sa^•iour, and set him not in the throne and government of your hearts and hves (though you may go with men for current Christians) ; if you hate not sin, if you love not the holy image and children of God, and use them not accordingly ; if you crucify not the flesh, and die not to the world, and deny not yourselves, and live not unto God, as making it your chief business and happiness to please him ; I say, if this be not your case, as sure as you are men, if you died thia hour in this condition, Christ will not own you, but THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 229 turn you off with a " Depart, ye cursed." You may as well think of reconciling light and darkness, or persuade a man to Hve on the food of beasts, or the stomach to wel- come deadly poison, as to think that Christ will receive an ungodly, earthly, guilty soul. Deceive not yourselves, sinners. If God could have en- tertained the ungodly, and heaven could hold unholy souls, answer me, then, these two or three questions. Quest. 1. What need Christ, then, to have shed his blood, or become a sacrifice for sin ? K he could have re- ceived the ungodly, he might have done it upon cheaper rates. This feigned him to have died to no purpose, but to bring the unsanctified to heaven, that might have been as well entertained there without his sufferings. Quest. 2. To what use doth Christ send the Holy Ghost to sanctify his elect, or send his word and ministers to pro- mote it, if they may come to heaven unsanctified ? Quest. 3. If the ungodly go to heaven, what use is hell for? There is no hell, if this be true. But you will quickly find that to be too good news to the ungodly to be true. 2. In Luke xvi. Christ teacheth us our duty by the parable of the steward, that asketh himself beforehand, what he shall do when he must be no longer steward, and con- triveth it so that others may receive him when he is cast off; and he applieth it to us that must now so provide, that when we fail we may be received into the everlasting habi- tations. This is the work that we have all to mind. We always knew that this world would fail us. Oh how uncer- tain is your tenure of the dwellings that you now possess ! Are you pro^^ded, certainly provided, whither to go, and who shall receive you when your stewardship is ended, and you must needs go hence? O think of these considerations that should move you presently to provide. 1. Your cottages of earth are ready to drop down, and it is a stormy time, there are many sicknesses abroad. One blast may quickly lay them in the dust ; and then the flesh that had so much care, and was thought worthy to 230 THE LAST WOEK OF A BELIEVER. be preferred before tlie soul, must be laid and left to rot in darkness, to avoid the annoyance of the Uving : and -when you may justly look every hour when you are turned out of these dwelhngs that you are in, is it not time to be pro- vided of some other ? 2. Consider, if Christ should not receive thy spirit, how unspeakably deplorable thy case will be. I think there is no man in all this assembly so mad, that would take all the world now to have his soul refused then by Christ, that ■\rould professedly make and subscribe such a bargain ; and yet, alas, how many are they that will be hired for a smaller price, even for the pleasure of a sin, to do that which Christ himself hath told them will cause him to reftise them ! O sii's, for aught you know, before to-morrow, or ■svithin this week, you may be put to know these things by trial, and your souls may be reflised or received ; and woe to you that ever you were men, if Christ receive you not. Consider, 1. If Christ receive thee not, thou hast no friend left then to receive thee. Thy house, and land, and riches, and reputation, are all left behind ; none of them Avill go with thee ; or, if they did, they could afford thee no relief Thy bosom fiiends, thy powerful defenders, are all left behind ; or if they go before thee, or with thee, they can do nothing there, that could do so much for thee here. Xo minister so holy, no fiiend so kind, no patron so power- ful, that can give thee any entertainment, if Christ refuse to entertain thee. Look to the right hand or to the left, there will be none to help thee, or care for thy forsaken soul. Theri thou ^vilt find that one Christ had been a better fiiend than all the great ones upon earth. 2. If Christ, then, receive not thy departed soul, the devils will receive it. I am loth to speak so terrible a word, but that it must be spoken, if you will be awaked to pre- vent it. He that deceived thee -will then pLead conquest, and claim thee as his due, that he may tonnent thee. And if the deril say. This soul is mine, and Christ do not rescue and justify- thee, but say so too, no heart is able to conceive the hoiTor that will then overwhelm thee. Doth not the THK LAST TVORK OF A UELIEVER. 231 reading of the sentence make thee tremble, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels?" Matt. xxv. 41. This is that dreadful deUvering up to Satan, when the soul is excommunicated from the city of God. O, therefore, if thou be yet unre- conciled to God, agree with him quicldy, while thou art here in the way, lest he deliver thee to this tcmble jailer and executioner, and thou be cast into the prison of the bottomless pit : "Verily, I say unto thee, thou shalt by no means come out thence till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing," Matt. v. 25, 26. 3. The greatness of the change will increase the amaze- ment and misery of thy spirit, if Christ receive it not. To leave a world that thou wast acquainted -svith ; a world that pleased thee, and entertained thee ; a world where thou hadst long thy business and dehght, and where, wi'etched man, thou hadst made the chief pro\ision, and laid up thy treasure : this will be a sad part of the change. To enter into a world where thou art a stranger, and much worse, and see the company and the things that before thou never sawest, and to find things go there so contrary to thy expec- tation ; to be turned, with Dives, from thy sumptuous dwell- ing, attendance, and fare, into a place of easeless torment: this will be a sadder part of thy change. Here the rich would have received thee, the poor would have served and flattered thee, thy friends would have comforted thee, thy play-fellows would have been merry with thee. But there, alas ! how the case is altered ! all these have done ; the table is withdrawn, the game is ended, the mirth is ceased, and now succeedeth, " Son, remember that thou in thy life-time receivedst thy good things, and Lazarus evil things : but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented," Luke xvi. 25. Oh, dreadful change -to those that made the world their home, and little dreamed, or did but dream, of such a day ! Never to see this world again, unless by such re- ■\'iews as "svill torment them ; never to have sport or pleasure more ; and for these to have such company, such thoughts, such work and usage, as God hath told us is in hell. 232 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 4. K Christ receive thee not, the burden of thy sins will overwhelni thee, and conscience will have no relief. Sin ■will not then appear in so harmless a shape as now : it will then seem a more odious or frightful thing. Oh, to re- member these days of folly, of careless, sluggish, obstinate folly, of sottish negHgence, and contempt of grace, will be a more tormenting thing than you Avill now beheve. K such sermons and discourses as foretell it are troublesome to thee, what then will that sad experience be ! 5. The wrath of an offended God will overwhelm thee. This will be thy hell. He that was so merciful m the time of mercy, -svill be most terrible and miplacable when that time is past, and make men know that Christ and mercv are not neglected, refused, and abused at so cheap a rate, as they would needs imagine in the time of their deh- rimn. 6. It will overwhelm the soul if Christ receive it not, to see that thou art entering upon eternity, even into an ever- lasting state of woe. Then thou wilt think, O whither am I going? "\Miat must I endure ? and how long, how long? ^Mien shall my miseries have an end? and when shall I come back ? and how shall I ever be deUvered ? Oh now what thoughts wilt thou have of the wonderful de5:ign ot God in man's redemption ! Now thou wilt better under- stand what a Sariour was worth, and how he shoidd have been beUeved in, and how his gospel and his sa%dng grace should have been entertained. Oh that the Lord would now open your hearts to enter- tain it, that you may not then value it to your vexation, that would not value it now to }our relief! Poor sinner, for the Lord's sake, and for thy soul's sake, I beg now of thee, as if it were on my knees, that thou wouldst cast away thy sinftd cares and pleasures, and open thy heart, and now receive thy Saviour and his saring gi*ace, as ever thou wouldst have him then receive thy trembling, departed soul ! Turn to him now, tliat he may not turn thee fi'om him then. Forsake hun not for a flattering world, a Httle transitory, vain delight, as ever thou wouldst not then have THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 233 thy departed soul forsaken by him ! O delay not, man, but now, even now receive him, that thou mayst avoid so terrible a danger, and put so great a question presently out of doubt, and be able comfortably to say, I have received Christ, and he will receive me ; if I die this night he will receive me : then thou mayst sleep quietly, and live merrily, without any disparagement to thy reason. O yield to this request, sinner, of one that desireth thy salvation. If thou wert now departing, and I would not pray earnestly to Christ to receive thy soul, thou wouldst think I were un- charitable. Alas ! it will be one of these days ; and it is thee that I must entreat, and thyself must be prevailed with, or there is no hope. Christ sendeth me to thyself, and saith, that he is willing to receive thee, if now thou wilt re- ceive him, and ])e sanctified and rided by him. The matter stops at thy own regardless, wilful heart. What sayest thou ? Wilt thou receive Christ now, or not ? Wilt thou be a new creature, and live to God, by the principle of his Spirit, and the rule of his word, to please him here, that thou mayst live with him for ever ? Wilt thou take up this resolution, and make this covenant with God this day ? O give me a word of comfort, and say, thou art resolved, and wilt deliver up thyself to Christ. That which is my com- fort, now on thy behalf, -svill be ten thousand-fold more thy comfort then, when thou partakest of the benefit. And if thou grieve us now, by denj-ing thy soul to Christ, it will be at last ten thousand-fold more thy grief. Refuse not our requests and Christ's request now, as ever thou wouldst not have him refuse thee then, and thy requests. It is men's turning away now fi'om Christ that will cause Christ then to turn from them. The turning away of the simple slayeth them, and they then eat but the fi-uit of their own way, and are filled with their oAvn devices," Prov. i. 31, 32. " See then that ye now refuse not him that speaketh ; for there is no escaping if you turn away, fi-om him that speaketh from heaven," Heb. xii. 25. What would you say yourselves to the man that would not be dissuaded from setting his house on fire, and then TTTT LAST WiWas. OT A Ja!LJjL'^ " 13 L -wrailfl pray anfl err in^innxmirteh li? <&i»fl -fliifl iasEg) it from J:»sin£r Dicirt : Ctr of ^tht ttutt :fiiH2 -^aE err tt' &»cl -%£< wm: is life ^ Or nF &e amm iftai "siifflC nx» XD in * ^Jiirrng . IrrUiksE "VfiSSel. "WEt. irnuwiir -Mril maiB: sn^IIH^ "fciD err" "Id '&Dfl "Ht uti vt -iiini Hrrnm AncI -wHl yun -flnp i&rait «tt gratf m ^astirn' iilui,^' nF "vnnr miimirinl snj^ ^ ^V^K «fi}vffi. anfl -than CPT- ■'^ Jjfxrfl -SdBBis. necfflsw tot ajiatT' Jc inoti liD "flaf- flonr s «hnt v' 'vdssn wnu. Act i TtnT -yverv mtf' "diaj "vsdD crv Iiurfl. Idosfl. i&uiL iftiJ! tfim&sir IIJIL "tii£ Irrriir flmTi aFltBSrvHH- Intt lit "Siat flli& in3£ idfSoE Xxtflier ^v^incti i in iMsscvfiii/ "oL in. liSstiv. f rmwiriffr wiHi '^^soi 'im^podbAfe^D^ 5ct "will "fiTI soul XD l>t -flien Teeeivefl lorr -Sk IdooA. '^^Suc a jrorM -wnrd -win if lat. -whffT: iium ^hiii 'hflax. ^irnsm, t« UoBofi nf TUV ?Hfibcr. TnlH»rTT "lilt l^inrr fl mn j'"f*|W*^ doDB" VUIL^ iert tc* imilane : ^Smb m p -fitfT. "wesi. nurlli. and situlL. ^lall 'Stsspt wiiL iiiDi! ■flrruffi ont.'" lunkt 3dn. iT-SlL I iH;ct ^>eeD Inng in "Qm 'psrri of 3irr igijifirwtiaii. cLd "with SDiife iixBi jrrt ^mSr ni flsifflrt. saE wet on «Et s£ an Tmprgmrefl «raK;. at i 21m n l»t :ftimi^3it nii tim -vofti p'eat eornpaiHsinri : I am nexr it» enmfc 11 Ah2 ^Hirr hi :fct ajjpIit^ZLcm -whip7ri I dneflgr imentiftrl, *te '&mt xfioG xs- t&e "VDH 'QlBl STt "TrvffTn~V4f»T^ at •JjTiaine dbzHL, SSBBME^ iJbK ^iBtae :&a7F of fj^JitVi X«ai ii eunii- -in^iexi m wTT. -who anar lidl^' ■w»t» nmmT M»nfl -vdht depuTtii!^ «rm^ jmA> ^£b£t 3aH& ^ THE LAST WOEK OF A BELIEVER. 235 a natural or a violent death, at the fiilness of your age or in the flower of your youth, death can but separate the soul from flesh, but not from Christ : whether you die poor or rich, at liberty or in prison, in your native country or a foreign land, Avhether you be buried in the earth or cast into the sea, death shall but send your souls to Christ. Though you die under the reproach and slanders of the world, and your names be cast out among men as evil-doers, yet Christ will take your spirits to himself. Though your souls depart in fear and trembling, though they want the sense of the love of God, and doubt of pardon and peace with him, yet Christ will receive them. I know thou wilt be ready to say, that thou art unworthy, Will he receive so unworthy a soul as mine ? But if thou be a member of Christ thou art worthy in him to be ac- cepted. Thou hast a worthiness of aptitude, and Christ hath a worthiness of merit. The day that cometh upon such at unawares, that have their hearts overcharged with surfeiting, drunkenness, and the cares of this life, and as a snare surpriseth the inhabitants of the earth, shall be the day of thy great deUverance ; " Watch ye, therefore, and pray always, that ye may be accounted worthy to escape all these things that shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of man," Luke xxi. 34-36. " They that are accounted worthy to obtain that world can die no more ; for they are equal unto the angels, and are the children of God," Luke xx. 35, 36. Object. Oh but my sins are great and many ; and will Christ ever receive so ignorant, so earthly and impure a soul as mine ? Answ. If he have freed thee fi'om the reign of sin, by giving thee a will that would fain be fully delivered from it, and given thee a desire to be perfectly holy, he will finish the work that he hath begun ; and will not bring thee de- filed into heaven, but will wash thee in his blood, and sepa- rate all the remnant of corruption from thy soul, when he separateth thy soul from flesh : there needs no pur- gatory, but his blood and Spirit in the instant of death 286 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVEIl. shall deliver thee, that he may present thee spotless to the Father. O feai' not then to tiiist thy soul with him that will re- ceive it ; and fear not death that can do thee no more harm. And when once thou hast overcome the fears of death, thou wilt be the more resolute in thy duty, and faithful to Christ, and above the power of most temptations, and wilt not fear the face of man, when death is the worst that man can bring thee to. It is true, death is dreadful ; but it is as true that the arms of Christ are jo}-ful. It is an unpleasmg thing to leave the bodies of our Mends in the earth ; but it is un- speakable pleasure to their souls to be received into the heavenly society by Christ. And how confidently, quietly, and comfortably you may commend your departing spirits to be received by Christ, be mformed by these considerations following. 1 . Your spirits are Christ's own ; and may you not trust him with his o^vn ? As they are his by the title of creation, " All souls are nune, saith the Lord," Ezek. xviii. 4 ; so also by the title of redemption, " We are not our own, we are bought with a price," 1 Cor. \{. 19. Say therefore to him. Lord, I am thine much more than my own ; receive thine own, take care of thme own. Thou drewest me to consent to thy gracious covenant, and I re- signed myself and all I had to thee. And thou swarest to me, and I became thine, Ezek. x\i. 8. And I stand to the covenant that I made, though I have offended thee. I am sinful, but I am tliine, and would not forsake thee, and change my Lord and Master, for a world. O know thine own, and own my soul that hath owned thee, though it hath sinned against thee. Thy sheep know thy voice, and follow not a stranger ; now know thy poor sheep, and leave them not to the devourer. Thy lambs have been preserved by thee among wolves in the world, preser\'e me now fi'om the enemy of souls. I am thine, O save me (Psal. cxix. 94), and lose not that which is thine own ! 2. Consider that thou art his upon so dear a purchase, as that he is the more engaged to receiye thee. Hath he THE LAST WOllK OF A BELIEVER. 237 bought thee by the price of his most precious blood, and will he cast thee off? Hath he come dovra on earth to seek and save thee, and ^vill he now forsake thee? Hath he lived in flesh a life of poverty, and suffered reproach, and scorn, and buffetings, and been nailed to the cross, and put to cry out, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? " and will he now forget his love, and sufferings, and himself foi*sake thee after this ? Did he himself on the cross commend his spirit into his Father's hands, and will he not receive thy spirit when thou at death commendest it to him ? He hath known himself what it is to have a human soul separated from the body, and the body buried in a gi'ave, and there lamented by surriring friends. And why did he this, but that he might be fit to receive and relieve thee in the like condition ? O, who would not be encouraged to encounter death, and lie down in a gi'ave, that believeth that Christ did so before him, and considereth why he went that way, and what a conquest he had made ! I know an argument from the death of Christ will not prove his love to the souls of the ungodly so as to infer that he will receive them; but it will prove his reception of be- lievers' souls : " He that spared not his own Son, but gave him up for us all, how shall he not with liim also freely give us all things ? " (Rom. riii. 32,) is an infallible argument as to behevers, but not as to those that do reject him. Say therefore to him, O my Lord ! can. it be that thou couldst come down in the flesh, and be abused, and spit upon, and slandered, and crucified ; that thou couldst bleed, and die, and be buried for me, and now be unwilling to re- ceive me ? that thou shouldst pay so dear for souls, and now refuse to entertain them? that thou shouldst die to save them from the devil, and now vnlt leave them to his cruelty ? that thou hast conquered him, and yet wilt suffer him at last to have the prey? To whom can a departing soul fly for refuge, and for entertainment, if not to thee that diedst for souls, and sufferedst thine to be separated from the flesh, that we might have all assurance of thy compassion unto om's ? Thou didst openly declare upon the cross, that the 238 THE LAST WOllK OF A BELIEVER. reason of thy dying was to receive departed souls, Avheii thou didst thus encourage the soul of a penitent malefactor, by telling hmi, " This day shalt thou be ^^ith me in paradise." O give the same encouragement or entertainment to this sinful soul that liietli unto thee, that trusteth in thy death and merits, and is coming to receive thy doom ! 3. Consider that Jesus Christ is full of love and tender compassion to souls. AVhat his tears over Lazarus com- pelled the Jews to say, Behold how he loved him," John xi. 36 ; the same his incarnation, life, and death should much more stir us up to say, with greater admiration. Be- hold how he loved us. The foregoing words, though the shortest verse in all the Bible, " Jesus wept" (verse 35), are long enough to prove his love to Lazarus : and the Holy Ghost would not have the tears of Chiist to be unknown to us, that his love may be the better known. But we have a far larger demonstration of his love ; " He loved us and gave himself for us," Gal. ii. 20. And by what gift could he bet- ter testify his love? " He loved us, and washed us in his blood," Rev. i. 5. He loved us, as the Father loveth him, John XV. 9. And may we not comfortably go to liim that loved us ? WiU love refuse us when we fly unto him ? Say then to Christ, O thou that hast loved my soul, re- ceive it ! I commend it not unto an enemy. Can that love reject me, and cast me into hell, that so oft embraced me on earth, and hath declared itself by such ample testimo- nies ! Oh had we but more love to Cr.nst, we should be more sensible of his love to us, and then avc should trust him, and love would make us hasten to him, and with confidence cast ourselves upon him ! 4. Consider that it is the office of Christ to save souls, and to receive them, and therefore we may boldly recom- mend them to his l«.nds. The Father sent him to be the Sa^'iour of the world, 1 John iv. 14 ; and he is efiectually the Saviour of his body, Eph. v. 23. And may we not trust him in his undertaken office, that would trust a physician or any other in his office, if we judge him faithful ? Yea, he is THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 239 engaged by covenant to receive us : when we gave up our- selves to him, he also became ours ; and we did it on this condition, that he should receive and save us. And it was the condition of his own undertaking ; he drew the cove- vant himself and tendered it first to us, and assumed his own conditions, as he imposed ours. Say then to him. My Lord, I expected but the perform- ance of thy covenants, and the discharge of thine under- taken office : as thou hast caused me to believe in thee, and love and serve thee, and perform the conditions which thou laidest on me, though with many sinful failings, which thou hast pardoned ; so now let my soul, that hath trusted on thee, have the full experience of thy fidelity, and take me to thyself according to thy covenant. O now remember the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused him to hope!" Psal. cxix. 49. How many precious promises hast thou left us, that we shall not be forsaken by thee, but that we shall be with thee where thou art, that we may be- hold thy glory ! For this cause art thou the Mediator of the new covenant, that by means of death for the redemption of the transgressions that were under the first testament, they which are called might receive the promise of eternal inheii- tance, Ileb. ix. 15. According to thy covenant, " Godli- ness hath the promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come," 1 Tim. iv. 8. And when we have done thy will (notwithstanding our lamentable imperfections) we are to receive the promise, Heb. x. 36. O, now receive me into the Idngdom which thou hast promised to them that love thee! James i. 12. 5. Consider how able Christ is to answer thine expecta- tions. All power is given him in heaven and earth (Matt, xxviii. 19), and all things are given by the Father into his hands, John xiii. 3. All judgment is committed to him, John V. 22. It is fully in his power to receive and save thee ; and Satan cannot touch thee but by his consent. Fear not, then ; he is the first and last, that liveth, and was dead ; and behold he liveth for ever more, amen ; and hath the keys of hell and death. Rev. i. 17, 18. 240 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. Say, then, If thou wilt, Lord, thou canst sare this de- parting soul I O, sar but the word, and I shall live I Lay but thy rebuke upon the destroyer, and he shall be restrain- ed. ^Tien my Lord and dearest Sarioiu* hath the keys, how can I be kept out of thy kingdom, or cast into the burn- ing lake ■? Were it a matter of difficulty unto thee, my soul might fear lest heaven would not be opened to it : but thy love hath overcome the hindrances ; and it is as easy to re- ceive me as to love me. 6. Consider how perfectly thy Saviour is acquainted with the place that thou art going to, and the company and em- plo^-ment which thou must there have : and. therefore, as there is nothing strange to him, so the ignorance and strange- ness in thyself should therefore make thee fly to him, and trust him. and recommend thy soul to him, and say. Lord, it would be terrible to my departing soul to go into a world that I never saw, and into a place so strange, and unto company so far above me : but that I know there is no- thing strange to thee, and thou knowest it for me. and I may better trust thy knowledge than mine own. A^'hen I was a child I knew not mine own inheritance, nor what was necessari- to the daily provisions for my liie ; but my parents knew it that cared for me. The eyes must see for all the body, and not every member see for itself. Oh, cause me as quietly and believingly to conmiit my soul to thee, to be possessed of the glory which thou seest and possessest, as if I had seen and possessed it myself, and let thy knowledge be my trust ! 7. Consider that Christ hath provided a glorious recep- tacle for faithlul souls, and it cannot be imagined that he %vill lose his preparations, or be frustrate of his end. All that he did and suffered on earth was for this end. He therefore became the Captain of our salvation, and was made perfect through suflerings. that he might bring many sons to glor}', Heb. ii. 10. He hath taken possession in oiu" nature, and is himself interceding for us in the heavens, Heb. viL 25. And for whom doth he provide this heavenly building, not made with hands, but for beUevers? K, THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 241 therefore, any inordinate fear surprise thee, remember what he hath said : " Let not your hearts be troubled : ye be- lieve in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions : if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you ; and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto my- self; that where I am, there ye may be also," John xiv. 1-3. Say, therefore, Lord, when thou hadst made this lower narrow world, thou wouldst not leave it uninhabited ; for man thou madest it, and man thou placedst in it. And when thou hast prepared that more capacious, glorious world for thy redeemed flock, it cannot be that thou wilt shut them out. O, therefore, receive my fearful soul, and help me to obey thy own command, Luke xii. 32, Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." O, let me hear that joyful sentence, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world," Matt. xxy. 34. 8. Consider that Christ hath received thy soul unto grace, and therefore he will receive it unto glory. He hath quickened us who were dead in trespasses and sins, wherein in times past we walked, &c. But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins and trespasses, quickened us together with Christ, and raised us up together, and made us sit to- gether in heavenly places in Christ Jesus, Eph. ii. 1-6. The state of grace is the kingdom of heaven, as well as the state of glory, Matt. iii. 2 ; x. 7 ; xiii. 11, 24, 31, 33, 44, 45, 47. By grace thou hast the heavenly birth and na- ture : we are first-born to trouble and sorrow in the world ; but we are new-born to everlasting joy and pleasure. Grace maketh us heirs, and giveth us title, and therefore at death we shall have possession. The Father ^f our Lord Jesus Christ, according to his abundant mercy, hath begotten us again unto a lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and unde- filed, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for us, 1 Pet. i. 3, 4. The great work was done in the day of thy Q 242 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. renovation ; then thou wast entered into the household of God, and made a felloA^-citizen with the saints, and re- ceivedst the Spirit of adoption, Eph. ii. 19 ; Gal. iv. 6. He gave thee life eternal, -when he gave thee knowledge of him- self, and of his Son, John xvii. 3. And will he now take from thee the kingdom which he hath given thee ? Tliou wast once his enemy, and he hath received thee already into his favour, and reconciled thee to himself; and Avill ho not then receive thee to his glory? Rom. v. 8-11, " God com- mendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sin- ners, Christ died for us. Much more then, being now jus- tified by his blood, we shall be saved fi-om -^Nn-ath through him. For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his Hfe. And not only so, but we also joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the atonement." And when we have peace with God, being justified by fiiith (Rom. v. 1), why should we doubt whether he will receive us? The great impediments and cause of fear are now removed : unpardoned sin is taken away, our debt is discharged. We have a sufficient answer against all that can be alleged to the pre- judice of om- souls : yea, it is Christ himself that answereth for us ; it is he that justifietli, who then shall condemn us ? Will he not justifv those at last whom he hath here justi- fied ? Or will he justify us, and yet not receive us ? Tliat were both to justifv and condemn us. Depart, then, in peace, O fearful soul ; thou fallcst into his hands that hath justified thee by his blood ; -will he deny thee the inheritance of which he himself hath made thee heir, yea, a joint-heir with himself? Rom. viii. 17. Will he deprive thee of thy birthright, who himself begot thee of the incorruptible seed ? If he would not have received thee to glor}', he would not have drawn thee to himself, and have blotted out thine iniquities, and received thee by re- conciling grace. ISIany a time he hath received the secret petitions, complaints, and groans which thou hast poured out before him ; and hath given thee access with boldness THE LAST AVORK OF A BELIEVER. 243 to his throne of grace, when thou couldst not have access to man ; and he hath taken thee up, when man hath cast thee otf. Surely he that received thee so readily in thy dis- tress, will not now at last repent him of his love. As Ma- noah's wife said, " If the Lord were pleased to kill us, he would not have received a burnt-^ofierinop and a meat-offering at our hands, neither would he have shewed us all these things," Judg. xiii. 23. He hath received thee into his church, and entertained thee with the delights and fatness of his house (Psal. xxxA-i. 8), and bid thee welcome to his table, and feasted thee with his body and his blood, and communicated in these his quickening Spirit ; and \nW he then disowTi thee, and refuse thee, when thou drawest nearer him, and art cast upon him for thy final doom ? After so many receptions in the way of gi*ace, dost thou yet doubt of his recei\dng you. 9. Consider how nearly thou art related to him in this state of grace ; thou art his chUd, and hath he not the bowels of a father ? When thou didst ask bread, he was not used to give thee a stone ; and will he give thee hell, when thou askest but the entertainment in heaven, which he hath promised thee ? Thou art his friend (John xv. 14, 15), and will he not receive his friends ? Thou art his spouse, be- trothed to him the very day when thou consentedst to his covenant ; and where then shouldst thou live but with him? Thou art a member of his body, of his flesh and bone, Eph, V. 30 ; and no man ever yet hated his o^^^l flesh, but nourishetli and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church, verse 29 : as he came down in flesh to be a suitor to thee, so he caused thee to let go all for him ; and will he now forsake thee ? Suspect it not, but quietly resign thy soul into his hands, and say, Lord, take this soul that pleads re- lation to thee ; it is the voice of thy chUd that crieth to thee ; the name of a father, which thou hast assumed to- wards me, is my encouragement. AVhen thou didst call us out of the world unto thee, thou saidst, I will receive you, and I will be a father to you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, 2 Cor. vi. 17, 18. O oiu- Father, which art in 244 THE L-\ST WORK OF A BELIEVER. heaven, shut not out thy children, the children of thy love and promise. The compassion that thou hast put mto man engageth him to reUeve a neighbour, yea, an enemy, much more to entertain a child ; our children and our friends dare trust themselves upon our kindness and fidelity, and fear not that we %vill reject them in their distress, or destroy them, though they do sometimes offend us : our kindness is cruelty in comparison of thine ; our love deserveth not the name of love in comparison of thy most precious love. Thine is the love of God, who is love itself, 1 John iv. 8, 16 ; and who is the God of love, 2 Cor. i. 13, 11 ; and is answerable to thine omnipotency, omniscience, and other attributes : but ours is the love of frail and finite sinful men. As we may pray to thee to forgive us our trespasses, for we also forgive those that have trespassed against us : so we may pray to thee to receive us, though we have offended thee, for even we receive those that have offended us. Hath thy love unto thine own its breadth, and length, and height, and depth ; and is it such as passeth knowledge ? Eph. iii. 17-19. And yet canst thou exclude thine own, and shut them out that cry unto thee ? Can that love, which washed me and took me home when I lay wallowing in my blood, reject me, when it hath so fiir recovered me? Cai^that love now thrust me out of heaven, that lately fetched me from the gates of hell, and placed me among thy saints ? " ^ATiom thou lovest, thou lovest to the end," John xiii. 1. "Thou art not as man. that thou shouldst repent," Numb, xxiii. 19. " "With thee is no variableness, or shadow of turning," Jam. i. 17. If yesterday thou so freely lovedst me as to adopt me for thy child, thou wilt not to-day refiise me, and cast me into hell. Receive, Lord Jesus, a member of thy body ; a weak one, indeed, but yet a member, and needeth the more thy tenderness and compassion, who hast taught us not to cast out om* infants, because they are small and weak. " We have forsaken all to cleave imto thee, that we might vnth thee be one flesh and spirit," Eph. v. 31 ; 1 Cor. \'i. 17. O cut not off, and cast not out, thy mem- bers that are ingrafted into thee. " Thou hast dwelt in me THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 245 here by faith, and shall I not now dwell with thee ? " Eph. iii. 17. Thou hast prayed to the Father, that we may be one in thee, and may be with thee to behold thy glory, John xvii. 20-24 ; and wilt thou deny to receive me to that glory, who pray but for what thou hast prayed to thy Fa- ther? Death maketh no separation between thee and thy members ; it dissolveth not the union of souls with thee, though it separate them from the flesh ; and shall a part of thyself be rejected and condemned ? 10. Consider that Christ hath sealed thee up unto sal- vation, and given thee the earnest of his Spirit; and therefore "vvill certainly receive thee, 2 Cor. i. 22 ; v. 5 ; Eph. i. 13, 14; iv. 30. Say, therefore, to him. Be- hold, Lord, thy mark, thy seal, thine earnest : flesh and blood did not illuminate and renew me ; thy Spirit which thou hast given me is my witness that I am thine, Rom. viii. 16. And wilt thou disown and refuse the soul that thou hast sealed ? 11. Consider that he that hath given thee a heavenly mind, will certainly receive thee into heaven. If thy trea- sure were not there, thy heart would never have been there. Matt. vi. 21. Thy weak desires do shew what he intends thee for ; he kindled not those desires in vain. Thy love to him (though too small) is a certain proof that he intends not to reject thee; it cannot be that God can damn, or Christ refuse, a soul that doth sincerely love him : he that loveth, " dwelleth in God, and God in him," 1 John iv. 15, 16. And shall he not then dwell with God for ever? God fit- teth the nature of every creature to its use, and agreeably to the element in which they dwell ; and, therefore, when he gave thee the heavenly nature (though but in weak be- ginnings), it shewed his will to make thee an inhabitant of heaven. Say, therefore, to him, O Lord, I had never loved thee if thou hadst not begun and loved me first; I had not minded thee, or desired after thee, if thou hadst not kindled these desires : it cannot be that thy grace itself should be a deceit and misery, and intended but to tantalize us ; and 246 THE LAST WOEK OF A BELLF^-ER. that thou hast set thy servants' souls on longing for that which thou wilt never give them. Thou wouldst not have given me the wedding- garment, when thou didst mvite me, if thou hadst meant to keep me out : even the grain of mus- tard-seed which thou sowedst in my heart, was a kind of promise of the happiness to which it tendeth. Indeed I have loved thee so little, that I am ashamed of myself, and con- fess my cold indifferency deserves thy wrath ; but that I love thee, and desire thee, is thy gift, which signifieth the higher satisf\-ing gift : though I am cold and dull, my eyes are to- wards thee ; it is thee that I mean when I can but groan : it is long since I have bid this world away; it shall not be my home or portion : O perfect what thou hast begun ; this is not the time or place of my perfection ; and though my life be now hid with thee in God. when thou appearest, let me appear with thee in glory. Col. iii, 4. And, in the mean- time, let this soul enjoy its part that appeareth before thee ; give me what thou hast caused me to love, and then I shall more perfectly love thee, when my thirst is satisfied, and the water which thou hast given me shall spring up to everlasting life, John iv 14. 12. Consider, also, that he that hath engaged thee to seek first his kingdom, is engaged to give it them that do sincerely seek it. He called thee off the pursuit of vanity when thou wast following the pleasures and profits of the world ; and he called thee to labour for the food that perisheth not, but endureth to everlasting life. John vL 27. Since then it hath been thy care and business (notwithstanding all thine imperfections), to seek and serve him, to please and honour him, and so to run that thou mightest obtain. Say, then. Though my sins deserve thy wrath, and no- thing that I have done desene thy favour, yet godliness hath thy promise of the life to come : and thou hast said, that he that seeks shall find," Matt. vii. 7, 8. O now let me find the kingdom that I have sought, and sought by thy en- couragement and help : it cannot be that any should have cause to repent of ser%-ing thee, or suffer disappointment that tiusts upon thee. My labour for the world was lost and THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 247 vain, but thou didst engage me to be steadfast and abound in thy work, on this account, that my laboui' should not be in vain, 1 Cor. xv. 58. Now give the full and final an- swer unto all my prayers : now that I have done the fight, and finished my course, let me find the crown of righteous- ness which thy mercy hath laid up, 2 Tim. iv. 8. O crown thy graces, and with thy greatest mercies recompense and perfect thy preparatory mercies, and let me be received to thy glory, who have been guided by thy counsel, Psal. Ixxiii. 24. 13. Consider that Christ hath already received millions of souls, and never was unfaithful unto any. There are now with him the spirits of the just made perfect, that in this life were imperfect as well as you. Why, then, should } ou not comfortably trust him with your souls ? and say, Lord, thou art the common salvation and refuge of thy saints ; both strong and weak, even all that are given thee by the Father, shall come to thee, and those that come thou vnlt in no wise cast out. Thousands have been entertained by thee that were unworthy in themselves, as well as I. It is few of thy members that are now on earth, in compari- son of those that are with thee in heaven. Admit me, Lord, into the new Jerusalem : thou wilt have thy house to be filled ; O, take my spirit into the number of those blessed ones that shall come from east, west, north, and south, and sit down mth Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom ; that we may, together with eternal joys, give thanks and praise to thee that hast redeemed us to God by thy blood. 14. Consider that it is the will of the Father himself that we should be glorified. He therefore gave us to his Son, and gave his Son for us, to be our Sa\'iour, " That whoso- ever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlast- ing life," John iii. 16, 17. All our salvation is the pro- duct of his love, Eph. ii, 4; John vi. 37. John xvi. 26, 27, " I say not that I will pray the Father for you, for the Father himself loveth you, because ye have loved me," &c. John xiv. 21, "He that loveth me shall be loved of my 248 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. Father, and I wHll love him, and vnW manifest myself to hira." Say, therefore, Avith our d}-ing Lord, " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." By thy Son, who is the way, the truth, and the life, I come to thee, John xiv. 6. "Ful- ness of joy is in thy presence, and everlasting pleasures at thy right hand," Psal. x\i. 11. Thy love redeemed me, renewed and preserved me ; O now receive me to the ful- ness of thy love. This was thy will in sending thy Son, that of all that thou gavest him he should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day. O let not now this soul be lost that is passing to thee through the straits of death. I had never come unto thy Son, if thou hadst not drawn me, and if I had not heard and learned of thee, John \i. 44, 45. I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast revealed to me, a babe, an idiot, the blessed mysteries of thy kingdom, Luke x. 2i ; Acts iv, 13. O now as the veil of flesh must be withdrawn, and my soul be parted from this body, withdraw the veil of thy displeasure, and shew thy servant the glory of thy presence : that he that hath seen thee but as in a glass, may see thee now with open face ; and when my earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved, let me inhabit thy building not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, 2 Cor. v. 1. 15. Lastly, Consider that God hath designed the ever- lasting glory of his name, and the pleasing of his blessed will, in our salvation ; and the Son must triumph in the per- fection of his conquest of sin and Satan, and in the perfect- ing of our redemption ; and, doubtless, he will not lose his Father's glory and his own. Say, then, with confidence, I resign my soul to thee, O Lord, who hast called and chosen me, that thou mightest make known the riches of thy glory on me, as a vessel of mercy prepared unto glory, Rom. ix. 23. Thou hast predestinated me to the adoption of thy child by Christ unto thyself, to the praise of the glory of thy grace, wherein thou hast made me accepted in thy Be- loved, Eph. i. 5, 6, 11, 12. Receive me now to the glory THE LAST WORK OF A BELlEVEli. 240 which thou hast prepared for us, Matt. xxv. 34. The hour is at hand ; Lord, glorify thy poor adopted child, that he may for ever glorify thee, John xvii. 1. It is thy promise to glorify those whom thou dost justify, Rom. viii. 30. As " there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ" (Rom. viii. 1), so now let him present me faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy ; and to thee " the only wise God our Sa\dour, be the glory, majesty, dominion, and power for evermore. Amen." Jude 24, 25. WhsLt now remaineth, but that we all set ourselves to learn this sweet and necessary task, that we may jojililly perform it in the hour of our extremity ; even to recom- mend our departing souls to Christ, with confidence that he will receive them. It is a lesson not easy to be learned ; for faith is weak, and doubts and fears will easily arise, and nature will be loth to think of dying ; and we that have so much offended Christ, and lived so strangely to him, and been entangled in too much familiarity with the world, shall be apt to shrink when we should joyfully trust him with our departing souls. O, therefore, now set yourselves to over- come these difficulties in time. You know we are all ready to depart ; it is time this last important work were thoroughly learned, that our death may be both safe and comfortable. There are divers other uses of this doctrine, that I should have urged upon you, had there been time. As, 1. If Christ will receive your departing souls, then fear not death, but long for this heavenly entertainment. 2. Then do not sin for fear of them that can but kill the body, and send the soul to Christ. 3. Then think not the righteous unhappy because they are cast off by the world ; neither be too much troubled at it yourselves when it comes to be your case ; but remember that Christ will not forsake you, and that none can hinder him from the receiving of your souls. No malice nor slanders can follow you so far as by defamation to make your justifier condemn you. 4. Kyou may trust him with your souls, then trust him with your friends, your children that you must leave behind, 250 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. %vitli all your concernments and affah's : and trust him -with his gospel and his church ; for they are all his own, and he ■will prevail to the accomplishment of his blessed pleasure. But, 5. I shall only add that use which the sad occasion of our meeting doth bespeak. What cause have we now to mix our sorrows for our deceased friend, with the joys of faith for her felicity ! We have left the body to the earth, and that is our lawful sorrow, for it is the fruit of sin ; but her spirit is received by Jesus Christ, and that must be our joy, if we will behave ourselves as true behevers. If we can suffer with her, should we not rejoice also with her ? And if the joy be far greater to the soul with Christ, than the ruined state of the body can be lamentable, it is but reason that our joy should be greater for her joy, than our sorrow for the dissolution of the flesh. We that should not much lament the passage of a friend beyond the seas, if it were to be advanced to a kingdom, should less lament the passage of a soul to Christ, if it were not for the remnant of our woeful unbeUef.- She is arrived at the everlasting rest, where the burden of corruption, the contradictions of the flesh, the molesta- tions of the tempter, the troubles of the world, and the in- juries of malicious men, are all kept out, and shall never more disturb her peacei She hath left us in these storms, who have more cause to weep for ourselves, and for our children, that have yet so much to do and suffer, and so many dangers to pass through, than for the souls that are at rest with Christ. AVe are capable of no higher hopes than to attain that state of blessedness which her soul pos- sesseth ; and shall we make that the matter of our lamenta- tion as to her, which we make the matter of our hopes as to ourselves ? Do we labour earnestly to come thither, and yet lament that she is there ? You ^vill say, it is not be- cause she is clothed upon with the house from heaven, but that she is unclothed of the flesh : but is there any other passage than death into immortality? Must we not be unclothed before the garments of glory can be put on ? She bemoaneth not her o-vvn dissolved body ; the glorified THE L.\ST WOiiK OF A BELIEVER. 251 soul can easily bear the corruption of the llesh ; and if you saw but what the soul enjoyeth, you would be like-minded, and be moderate in your gi-iefs. Love not yourselves so as to be unjust and unmerciful in your desires to your friends. Let Satan desire to keep them out of heaven, but do not you desire it. You may desire your own good, but not so as to deprive your friends of theirs ; yea, of a greater good, that you may have a lesser by it. And if it be their company that you desire, in reason you should be glad that they are gone to dwell where you must dwell for ever, and therefore may for ever have their company ; had they staid on earth you would have had their company but a little while, because you must make so short a stay yourselves. Let them therefore begm their journey before you ; and grudge not that they are first at home, as long as you ex- pect to find them there. In the mean time he that called them fi'om you hath not left you comfortless ; he is with you himself, who is better than a mother, or than ten thou- sand Abends : when grief or negligence hindereth you from observing him, yet he is with you, and holdeth you up, and tenderly provideth for you : though turbulent passions in- juriously question all his love, and cause you to give him unmannerly and imthankful words, yet still he beareth with you, and forgiveth all, and doth not forsake you for your pee^dshness and weakness, because you are his children ; and he knoweth that you mean not to forsake him. Re- buke your passions, and calm your minds ; reclaim your thoughts, and cast away the bitterness of suspicious, quar- relsome unbelief ; and then you may perceive the presence of your dearest Friend and Lord, who is enough for you, though you had no other friend. "\^'ithout him all the friends on earth would be but silly comforters, and leave you as at the gates of heU ; without him all the angels and saints in heaven would never make it a heaven to you. Grieve not too much that one of your candles is put out while you have the sun ; or if indeed it be not day with any of you, or the sun be clouded or eclipsed, let that rather be the matter of your grief; find out the cause, and presently 252 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIETER. submit and seek reconciliation : or If you are deprived of this light, because you are yet asleep in sin, hearken to his call, and rub your eyes: "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light," Eph. V. 14. " Knowing that it is now high time to awake out of sleep, our salvation being nearer than when we first be- lieved : the night is far spent, the day of eternal light is even at hand ; cast off therefore the works of darkness, and put on all the armour of light ; walk honestly and decently as in the day," Rom. xiii. 11-14. And whatever you do, make sure of the Friend that never dieth, and never shall be separated from you ; and when you die will certainly re- ceive the souls which you commend unto him. And here, though contrary to my custom, I shall make some more particular mention of our deceased friend on several accounts. 1. In prosecution of this use that now we are upon, that you may see in the e\'idences of her hap- piness hoAv Httle cause you have to indulge extraordinary grief on her account ; and how much cause to moderate your sense of our loss, with the sense of her felicity. 2. That you may have the benefit of her example for your imitation, especially her children that are bound to observe the holy actions as well as the instructions of a mother. 3. For the honour of Christ, and his grace, and his servant : for as God hath promised to honour those that honom* him (1 Sam. ii. 30), and Christ hath said, " If any man serve me, him will my Father honour," John xii. 26; so I know Christ will not take it ill to be honoured in his members, and to have his ministers subserve him in so excellent a work : it is a very considerable part of the love or hatred, honour or dis- honour, that Christ liath in the world, which he receiveth as he appeareth in his followers. He that will not see a cup of cold water given to one of them go unrewarded, and will tell those at the last day that did or did not visit and reheve them, that they did or did it not to him, will now expect it from me as my duty to give him the honour of his graces in his deceased sen^ant ; and I doubt not will ac- cordingly accept it, when it is no other indeed than his own THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 253 honour that is my end, and nothing but the words of truth and soberness shall be the means. And here I shall make so great a transition as shall re- tain my discourse in the narrow compass of the time in which she lived near me, and under my care, and in my familiar acquaintance, omitting all the rest of her life, that none may say I speak but by hearsay of things which I am uncertain of ; and I will confine it also to those special gifts and graces in which she was eminent, that I may not take .you up with a description of a Christian as such, and tell you only of that good which she held but in common with all other Christians. And if any thing that I shall say were unknown to any reader that knew her, let them know that it is be- cause they knew her but distantly, imperfectly, or by re- ports ; and that my advantage of near acquaintance did give me a just assurance of what I say. The graces which I decerned to be eminent in her were these. 1. She was eminent in her contempt of the pride, and pomp, and pleasure, and vanity of the world ; and in her great averseness to all these, she had an honest impa- tience of the life which is common among the rich and vain- glorious in the world : voluptuousness and sensuality, excess of drinking, cards and dice, she could not endure, whatever names of good house-keeping or seemly deportment they borrowed for a mask. In her apparel she went below the garb of others of her rank ; indeed in such plainness as did not notify her degree ; but yet in such a grave and decent habit as notified her sobriety and humility. She was a stranger to pastimes, and no companion for time-wasters ; as knowing that persons so near eternity, that have so short a life, and so gi'eat a work, have no time to spare. Accord- ingly, in her latter days she did, as those that grow wise by experience of the vanity of the world, retire from it, and cast it off before it cast off her : she betook herself to the society of a people that were low in the world, of humble, serious, upright lives, though such as had been wholly stran- gers to her ; and among these poor inferior strangers she lived in contentment and quietness ; desiring rather to con- 254 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIE\'ER. verse witli those that would help her to redeem the time, in prayer and editing conference, than with those that would grieve her by consuming it on then* lusts. 2. She was very prudent in her converse and affairs (al- lowing for the passion of her sex and age), and so escaped much of the inconveniences that else in so great and mani- fold businesses would have overwhelmed her : as " a good man will guide his affaii'S with discretion," Psal. cxii. 5 ; so " discretion will preserve him, and understanding will keep him, to deliver him fi*om the way of the e^•il man, who leaveth the paths of uprightness to walk in the way of dark- ness," Prov. ii. 11-13. 3. She was seriously religious, without partiality, or any taint of siding or faction, or holding the fiiith of our Lord Jesus Christ m respect of persons. I never heard her speak against men, or for men, as they differed in some small and tolerable things : she impartially heard any minister that was able, and godly, and sound in the main, and could bear with the weaknesses of mmisters when they were fiiithful. Instead of owning the names or opinions of Prelatical, Pres- bj'terian. Independent, or such like, she took up with the name and profession of a Christian, and loved a Christian as a Christian, without much respect to such different, toler- able opinions. Instead of troubUng herself with needless scruples, and making up a religion of opinions and siiigulari- ties, she studied faith and godliness ; and lived upon the common certain truths, and well-kno-mi duties, which have been the old and beaten way, by which the universal church of Christ hath gone to heaven in former ages. 4. She Avas very impartial in her judgment about par- ticular cases, being the same in judging of the case of a child and a stranger ; and no interest of children, or other relations, could make her swerve from an equal judgment. 5. She xery much preferred the spiritual welfare of her children before their temporal ; looking on the former as the true felicity, and on the latter without it but as a plea- sant, voluntary misery. 6. Since I was acquainted with her, I always found her THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 255 very ready to good works, according to her power. And when she hath seen a poor man come to me, that she con- jectured solicited me for relief, she hath reprehended me for keeping the case to myself, and not inviting her to contri- bute ; and I could never discern that she thought any thing so well bestowed as that which relieved the necessities of the poor that were honest and industrious. 7. She had the wonderful mercy of a man-like, Christian, patient spirit, under all afflictions that did befall her ; and under the multitude of troublesome businesses, that would have even distracted an impatient mind. Though sudden anger was the sin that she much confessed herself, and there- fore thought she wanted patience, yet I have oft wondered to see her bear up -svith the same alacrity and quietness, when Job's messengers have brought her the tidings that would have overwhelmed an impatient soul. When law- suits and the great afflictions of her children have assaulted her hke -successive waves, which I feared would have borne her into the deep, if not devoured all her peace, she sus- tained all as if no great considerable change had been made against her, having the same God and the same Christ, and promises, and hope, from which she fetched such real com- fort and support as shcAved a real, serious faith. 8. She was always apt to put a good interpretation upon God's proAidences ; like a right believer, that having the spirit of adoption, perceiveth fatherly love in all, she would not easily be persuaded that God meant her any harm : she was not apt to hearken to the enemy that accuseth God and his ways to man, as he accuseth man and his actions to God : she was none of those that are suspicious of God, and are still concluding death and ruin from all that he doth to them, and are gathering -vvrath from misinterpreted ex- pressions of his love ; who weep because of the smoke before they can be warmed by the fire. Yet God is good to Israel ; and it shall go well with them that fear before him (Psal. Ixxiii. 1 ; Eccles. viii. 12, 13), were her conclusions from the sharpest providences : she expected the morning in the darkest night, and judged not of the end by the beginning ; 256 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. but was always confident if she could but entitle God in the case that the issue would be good. She was not a mur- mui er against God, nor one that contended with her Maker ; nor one that created calamity to herself by a self-troubling, unquiet mind : she patiently hore what God laid upon her, and made it not hea-sder by the additions of uncomfortable prognostics, and misgi\'ing or repining thoughts. She had a gi'eat confidence in God, that he was doing good to her and hers in all ; and where at present she saw any matter of grief, she much supported her soul vnth a belief that God would remove and overcome it in due time. 9. She was not troubled, that ever I decerned, with doubtings about her interest in Christ, and about her own justification and salvation ; but whether she reached to as- surance or not, she had confident apprehensions of the love of God, and quietly reposed her soul upon his grace. Yet not secure through presumption or self-esteem, but comfort- ing herself in the Lord her God ; by this means she spent those hours in a cheerfiil performance of her duty, which many spend in fi-uitless self- vexation for the failings of their duty, or in mere inquiries whether they have grace or not ; and others spend in wrangUng, perplexed controversies about the manner or circumstances of duty : and I beheve that she had more comfort fi-om God by way of reward upon her sincere obedience, while she referred her soul to him, and rested on him, than many have that more anxiously pei-jjlexed themselves about the discerning of their holiness, when they should be studying to be more holy, that it might discover itself. And by this means she was fit for praises and thanksgiving, and spent not her life in lamenta- tions and complaints ; and made not religion seem terrible to the ignorant, that judge of it by the faces and carriage of professors. She did not represent it to the world as a morose and melancholy temper, but as the rational crea- ture's cheerful obedience to his ^laker, actuated by the sense of the wonderful love that is manifested in the Re- deemer, and by the hopes of the purchased and promised felicity in the blessed sight and fruition of God. And I THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 25 7 conjecture that her forenientioned disposition to think well of God, and of his providences, together with her long and manifold experience (the great advantage of ancient, tried Christians), did much conduce to free her from doubtings and disquieting fears about her own sincerity and salvation ; and I confess, if her life had not been answerable to her peace and confidence, I should not have thought the better, but the worse, of her condition ; nothing being more lamen- table than to make haste to hell, through a wilful confidence that the danger is past, and that they are in the way to heaven as well as the most sanctified. 10. Lastly, I esteemed it the height of her attainment that she never discovered any inordinate fears of death, but a cheerftil readiness, willingness, and desire, to be dissolved, and be with Christ. This was her constant temper, both in health and sickness, as far as I was able to observe. She would be frequently expressing how Httle reason she had to be desirous of longer life, and how much reason to be will- ing to depart. Divers times in dangerous sickness I have been with her, and never discerned any considerable averse- ness, dejectedness, or fear. ^Many a time I have thought how great a mercy I should esteem it if I had attained that measure of fearless willingness to lay down this flesh, as she had attained. Many a one that can make hght of wants, or threats, or scorns, or any ordinary' troubles, cannot sub- mit so quietly and willingly to death. Many a one that can go through the labours of religion, and contemn oppo- sition, and easily give all they have to the poor, and bear imprisonments, banishment, or contempt, can never over- come the fears of death. So far, even the father of lies spake truth ; " Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life," Job ii. 4. I took it, therefore, for a high attainment and extraordinary mercy to our deceased friend, that the king of terrors was not terrible to her. Though I doubt not but somewhat of avorseness and fear is - so rooted in nature's self-preserving principle, as that it is almost inseparable, yet in her I never discerned any troublesome appearances of it. When I first came to her R 258 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIE VKK. In the beginning of her last sickness, she suddenly passed the sentence of death upon herself, -wTithout any shew of fear or trouble, when to us the disease appeared not to be great. But when the disease increased, her pains were so little, and the effect of the fever was so much in her head, that, after this, she seemed not to esteem it mortal, being not sensible of her case and danger : and so, as she lived without the fears of death, she seemed to us to die without them. God» by the natiu-e of her disease, removing death as out of her sight, when she came to that weakness, in which else the encounter was like to have been shai'per than ever it was before. And thus, in one of the weaker sex, God hath shew- ed us that it is possible to live in holy confidence, and peace, and quietness of mind, ■v^dthout distressing griefs or fears, even in the midst of a troublesome world, and of vexatious businesses, and vriih the afflictions of her dearest relations almost continually before her : and that our quiet or dis- quiet, our peace or trouble, dependeth more upon our in- ward strength and temper than upon our outward state, occasions, or provocations ; and that it is more in our hands than of any or all our friends and enemies, whether we shall have a comfortable or uncomfortable life. AYliat remaineth now, but that all we that survive, espe- cially you that are her children, do follow her as she folloAv- ed Christ ? Though the word of God be your sufficient rule, and the example of Christ be your perfect pattern, yet as the instructions, so the example of a parent must be a weighty motive to quicken and engage you to your duty ; and will else be a great aggravation of your sin. A holy child of unholy parents doth no more than his necessary duty ; because whatever parents are, he hath a holy God : but an unholy child of holy parents is inexcusable in sin, and deplorably miserable, as forsaking the doctrine and pattern both of their Creator and their progenitors, whom nature engageth them to observe ; and it will be an aggravation of their deserved misery to have their parents witness against them, that they taught them., and they would not learn ; and went before them in a holy life, but they would not follow THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 259 tlieni. " My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother ; for they shall be an or- nament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck," Prov. i. 8, 9. Read and consider Pro v. xxx. 17 ; xv. 20 ; xxiii. 22, 25. Sins against parents have a special curse affixed to them in this life, as the case of Ham sheweth ; and the due observance and honouring of parents hath a special promise of temporal blessings, as the fifth commandment sheweth. " Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for it is right : honour thy father and thy mother (which is the first commandment with promise), that it may be well -with thee, and thou mayst hve long on the earth," Eph. vi. 1-3. The histories of all ages are so full of the instances of God's judgments, in this life, upon five sorts of sinners, as may do much to convince an atheist of the government and special providence of God ; that is, upon persecutors, murderers, sacrilegious, false witnesses (especially by perjury), and abusers and dishonourers of parents. And the great hon- our that is due to parents when they are dead, is to give just honour to their names, and to obey their precepts, and imitate their good examples. It is the high com- mendation of the Rechabites, that they strictly kept the precepts of their father, even in a thing indifferent, a mode of Hving ; not to drink wine, or build houses, but dwell in tents : and God annexeth this notable blessing, " Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel; Because ye have obeyed the commandment of Jonadab your father, and kept all his precepts, and done according unto all that he hath commanded you : therefore thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel ; Jonadab the son of Rechab shall not want a man to stand before me for ever," Jer. xxxv. 6, 7, 18, 19. But, especially in the great duties of rehgion, where parents do but deliver the mind of God, and use their authority to procure obedience to divine authority, and where the matter itself is necessary to our salvation, the obligation to obedience and imitation is most indispensable ; and disobedience is an aggravated iniquity, and the noto- rious brand of infelicity, and prognostic of ensuing woe ; the 260 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. ungodly cliildren of godly parents being the most deplorable, unhappy, inexcusable persons in the -world (if they hold on.) There is yet another doctrine that I should speak to. Doct. 7. Prayer in general, and this prayer in particular, that Christ will receive our departing souls, is a most suit- able conclusion of all the actions of a Christian's life. Prayer is the breath of a Christian's life : it is his work and highest converse, and therefore fittest to be the con- cluding action of his life, that it may reach the end at which he aimed. We have need of prayer all our lives, because we have need of God, and need of his manifold and conti- nued grace. But in our last extremity we have a special need. Though sloth is apt to seize upon us, while prospe- rity hindereth the sense of our necessities, and health per- suadeth us that time is not near its journey's end, yet it is high time to pray with redoubled fervour and importunity when we see that we are near our last. When we find that we have no more time to pray, but must now speak our last for our immortal souls, and must at once say all that we have to say, and shall never have a hearing more. Oh, then, to be unable to pray, or to be faithless, and heartless, and hopeless in our prayers, would be a calamity bey ond expres- sion. Yet I know, for ordinary observation tells it us, that many truly gracious persons may accidentally be indisposed and disabled to pray when they are near to death. If the disease be such as doth disturb the brain, or take them up with -vdolence of pain, or overwhelm the mind by perturba- tion of the passions, or abuse the imagination, or notably waste and debiUtate the spirits, it cannot be expected that a body thus disabled should serve the soul in this or any other duty. But still the prapng habit doth remain, though a distempered body do forbid the exercise. The habitual desires of the soul are there ; and it is those that are the soul of prayer. But this should move us to pray while we have time, and while our bodies have strength, and our spirits have vigour and alacrity to serve us, seeing we are so uncertain of bodilv THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 261 disposition and capacity so near our end. O pray, and pray with all your hearts, before any fever or delirium overthrow your understandings or your memories ; before your thoughts are all commanded to attend your pains, and before yout decayed spirits fail you, and deny their necessary service to your suits ; and before the apprehensions of your speedy ap- proach to the presence of the most holy God, and your en- trance upon an endless state, do amaze, confound, and over- whelm your souls with fear and perturbation. O Christians! what folly, what sin and shame is it to us, that now while we have time to pray, and leave to pray, and helps to pray, : nd have no such disturbing hindrances, we should yet want hearts, and have no mind, no life and fervour for so great a work ! O pray now, lest you are unable to pray then ; and if you are then hindered but by such bodily indisposed- ness, God will understand your habitual desires, and your groans, and take it as if you had actually prayed. Pray now, that so you may be acquahited with the God that then you must fly unto for mercy, and may not be strangers to him, or unto prayer ; and that he may not find then that your prayers are but the expression of your fears, and not of your love, and are constrained, and not voluntary mo- tions unto God : pray now in preparation to your dying prayers. Oh what a terrible thing it is to be to learn to pray in that hour of extremity, and to have then no prin- ciple to pray by, but natural self-love, which every thief hath at the gallows ! To be then without the spirit of prayer, when without it there cannot an acceptable Avord or groan be uttered ; and when the rejection of our suits and person will be the prologue to the final judicial rejec- tion, and will be a distress so grievous as presumptuous souls will not believe, till sad experience become their tutor. Can you imagine that you shall then at last be taught the art of acceptable prayer merely by horror, and the natural sense of pain and danger, as seamen in a storm, or a malefactor by the rack, when in your health and leisure you will not be persuaded to the daily use of serious prayer, but number yourselves with the families that arc under the Avrath of the 262 THK L.\ST WOPvK OF A BELn:\*EI?, Almighty, being such as call not on bis name, Jer. x. 25 ; Psabn Ixxix. 6. Indeed, there are many prayers must go before, or else this prayer, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," wiU be in vain, when you would be loth to find it so. You must first pray for renewing, sanctit\ing grace, for the death of sin, ajid the pardon of sin, for a holy life, and a heavenly mind, for obedience, patience, and perseverance ; and if you ob- * tain not these, there is no hope that Jesus Christ should receive your spirits, that never received his sanctit\-ing Spirit. How sad is it to observe that those that have most need of prayer, have least mind to pray, as being least sensible of their needs I Yea, that those that are the next step to the state of devils, and have as much need of prayer as any miserable souls on earth, do yet deride it, and hate those that seriously and fervently perform it ; a man of prayer being the most common object of their malicious reproach and scorn. O miserable Cainites, that hate their brethren for ofiering more acceptable sacrifice than their own I Little do they know how much of the xery satanical nature is in that malice, and in those reproachfiil scorns. And little do they know how near they are to tlie curse and desperation of Cain, and with what horror they shall cry out, Mj pimishment is greater than I can bear," Gen. iv. 11, 13. If God and good men condemn you for your lip-service, and heartless devotions, and ungodly lives, will you therefore hate the holy nature and better lives of those that judge you, when }-ou should hate your own ungodliness and h^-pocrisy ? Hear what God said to the leader of your sect, " Why art thou wroth ? and why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest weU, shalt thou not be accepted ? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door," Gen. iv. 6. Have you not as much need to pray as those that you hate and reproach for pray- ing? Have you not as much need to be oft and earnest in prayer as they ? Must Christ himself spend whole nights in prayer (Luke \i. 12), and shall an ignorant, sensual, har- dened simier think he hath no need of it, though he be un- THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVER. 263 converted, unjustified, unready to die, and almost past the opportunity of praying? O miserable men, that shortly would cry and roar in the anguish of their souls, and yet will not pray while there is time and room for prayer! Their Judge is willing now to hear them, and now they have nothing "but hj'pocritical, lifeless words to speak ! Prajing is now a wearisome, tedious, and unpleasant thing to them, that shortly would be glad if the most heart-tearing lamen- tations could prevail for the crumbs and drops of that mercy which they thus despise, Luke xvi. 24. Of all men in the world it ill becomes one in so deep necessities and dangers to be prayerless. But for you. Christians, that are daily exercised in this holy converse with your Maker, hold on, and grow not strange to heaven, and let not your holy desires be extin- guished for want of excitation. Prayer is your ascent to heaven ; your departure from a vexatious world to treat with God f jr }-our salvation ; your retirement fi'om a world of dangers into the impregnable fortress where you are safe, and from vanity unto felicity, and from troubles unto rest, which, though you cannot come so near, nor enjoy so fully and dehghtfully, as hereafter } ou shall do, yet thus do you make your approaches to it, and thus do you secure your fiiture full fruition of it. And let them all scolf at hearty, fervent prayer as long as they will, yet prayer shall do that with viodfor you which health, and wealth, and dignity, and honour, and carnal pleasures, and all the world shall never do ibr one of them. And though they neglect and vilify it now, yet the hour is near when they will be fain to scamblc and bungle at it themselves ; and the face of death will better teach them the use of prayer, than our doctrine and example now can do. A departing soul will not easily be prayerless, nor easily be content with sleepy prayers ; but, alas ! it is not every prayer that hath some fervency from the power of fear that shall succeed. Many a thousand may perish for ever that have prayed, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." But the soul that breatheth after Christ, and is weary of sinning, and hath long been pressing toward the mark, may 264 THE LAST WORK OF A BELIEVKR. receive encouragement for his last petitions, from the bent and success of all the foregoing prayers of his life. Believe it, Christians, you cannot be so ready to beg of Christ to receive your souls, as he is ready and willing to receive them. As you come praying, therefore, into the world of grace, go praying out of it into the world of glory. It is not a work that you were never used to, though you have had lamented backwardness, and coldness, and omissions. It is not to a God that you were never with before ; as you know whom you have believed, so you may know to whom you pray. It is indeed a most important suit to beg for the receiving of a departed soul; but it is put up to him to whom it properly doth belong, and to him that hath encouraged you by answering many a former prayer with that mercy which was the earnest of this, and it is to him that loveth souls much better than any soul can love itself. O live in prayer, and die in prayer, and do not, as the graceless, witless world, despise prayer while they live, and then think a Lord, have mercy on me, shall prove enough to pass them into heaven. Mark their statues and monuments in the churches, whether they be not made kneeling and lifting up the hands, to tell you that all will be forced to pray, or to approve of prayer, at their death, whatever they say against it in their life. O pray, and wait but a little longer, and all your danger will be past, and you are safe for ever ! Keep up your hands a little longer, till you shall end your conflict with the last enemy, and shall pass from prayer to everlasting praise. SHORT MEDITATIONS OK ROMANS V. 1-5 ; or THI BBSDDINO A.BROi.D OOD'S LOTK OK THE flZA.KT ST THX BOLT OEOST. Experience of the want of this efiusion of God's love, and some small taste of its sweetness, make me think the thoughts of this very suitable to one expecting death. The words contain a golden chain of highest blessings on all true Christians. I. They are supposed to have faith, that is, both a ge- neral trust in God's revelations and grace, and a special trust in Jesus Christ, as given by the father's love to be the Redeemer, to justify, sanctify, and glorify his people. I have oft proved this justifying faith to be no less than our unfeigned taking Christ for our Saviour, and becoming true Christians, according to the tenor of the baptismal cove- nant. As to the acts, it is formally trust — one in three ; the understanding's assenting trust, the will's consenting trust, and the executive power's practical, venturing, obey- ing trust. II. All true believers are justified ; even all that consent to the baptismal covenant, and choose God to be their God, and Christ to be their Saviour, and the Holy Ghost to be their Sanctifier, and give up themselves to him by true re- solution, as their only ruler, hope, and happiness ; though this be done Avith so great weakness, as endeth not all doubts, nor quieteth the mind. 266 SHORT MEDITATIONS OX ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. To be justified is not to be accounted such as have no sin, but, 1. To be made such by pardon through Christ's merits, and by true faith, as God will take by special love and favour unto life. 2. To be accounted such by God. 3. To be wtually sentenced such by the law of grace and faith, and to be just in law sense. 4. At last to be judged such by pubhc sentence. 5. And to be used as such. Not justified by the law of innocency, or of Moses, but by Christ's law of grace. 2fot justified perfectly till the time of perfection. Much punishment on soul and body is } et to be taken off, and and more sins daily to be pardoijed, and we, before the world, to be sentenced as just to life everlasting. III. The justified have peace vnth God. They are re- conciled, and in a state of love and fi-iendship. It signifieth mutual peace, but with great inequality. God^s love and favour to us is the stable, constant part. Our consent also, and acceptance of hLs terms of peace, is constant in its truth : but our sense of God's love, which is the peace pos- sessed by the soul, is weak and inconstant, and too oft quite lost or obscured by ignorance, mistake, and fear. But it must be known that this is a diseased state, unnatural to the believer as such ; as it is unnatural for a wcwnan married to a faithful husband, to Ue in terror, thinking that he will kill her, or doth not love her ; or for a child to think the same of a losing father. Faith, of its own natiu'e, tendeth to the soul's peace and joy, in the sense of God's love. And how is Christ offereil to us, but as a Saviour, to bring us by grace to glorj- ? And he that accepteth him as such, whereby he is justified, doth sure believe that he is offered as such ; for none can accept what he thinks not to be offered. And this impKeth some hope, at least, that Christ will be such to us ; and did faith work strongly and kindly, its effect would be a constant, jo)^ state of soul, as plea- sant health and mirth are to our natiu-es. All our distrustful fears and griefs, and disquietness of soul, are for want of more faith, as sickness and pain are for the want of vital causes of health. SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 267 ^ IV. This peace with God is only " through our Lord Jesus Christ." Though it be a vain dream to think by justifjdng faith is meant Christ only and not faith, yet it is no other faith but the foresaid beUeving trust on Christ. Therefore, as faith is our part, so it supposeth Christ, and all tlie works of his office, and righteousness, on his part, as its object. Christ is the purchasing cause ; but our trust and acceptance is that which is pleasing to God, and chosen by him to be our part, without innocency, or keeping the Jewish law. Since man once sinned, God's justice and man's con- science tell us, that we are unfit for God's acceptance or communion immediately, but must have a suitable mediator. Oh ! blessed be God for this suitable Mediator. Without him I dare not pray, I cannot hope, I dare not die ; God would else frown me away to misery. All the hope of par- don and salvation that I have ; all the access to God, and the mercies and deliverances that I have received, have been by this Author and finisher of our faith. Into his conducting hands I give my soul ; and into his preserving hands both soul and body ; and into his receiving hands I commend my departing soul. V. Ver. 2. "By whom we have access by faith unto this grace wherein we stand ;" that is, into this state of blessed Christianity, peace with God, and the following blessings. As it is by marriage that a woman hath right to her hus- band's estate and honours, and by inheritance that a child comes to his father's maintenance and land. This is no di- minution to God's love. To say it is all by Christ, is not to take it as ever the less fi-om God the Father. It is more to give us Christ, and life in him, than to have given us life without a Christ (John iii. 16 ; 1 John v. 10 — 12.) ; as God is, nevertheless, the giver of light to the earth, for giving it by the sun. Second causes diminish not the ho- nour of the fii'st. VI. " And rejoice in hope of the glory of God." Here is, 1. The beatifical object—" the glory of God." 2. The 268 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. beatifical act — " rejoice." 3. The mediate, causing act — " hope." All presupposing faith and justification. 1. The " glorv' of God" is that glorious appearance of God to man and angels, which maketh happy, 1. The mind by beholding it. 2. The will by loving it, and receiving the communications of love. 3. The executive powers by joy- ful praise, &c. 2. Though some foretastes are here, it is yet said to be hoped for ; and we hope for that which is not seen. "\Mien fiiith is said to be that which we are justified or saved by, it includeth hope, though, more precisely taken, they are distinct. " We are saved by hope." The same word is oft translated " trust" and " hope ;" and faith is trust. To trust Christ for salvation, includeth hoping that he wOl save us. But hope is denominated fi'om the good hoped for, and faith fi'om the cause by which we hope to obtain it. Hope doth not necessarily imply either certainty or un- certainty. It may stand with both in various degrees. 3. Rejoicing is made by God the veiy naturally desired state of the soul. It is, when natm^al, the pleasant efflor- escence of the spirits, or their state of health. It is pleasure that is the spring or poise of aU motion sensitive in the world. Traliit sua quemque^ voluptas. Ap- petite, or will, is the active principle ; and congruous, good or delectable, is the object. The world is undone by the seduction of false deceitfid pleasure: and though we that made not ourselves are not so made for ourselves as that our pleasure or feUcity in God should be so high in our de- sire as God himself, who is the ultimate object of our love : yet, seeing such an object he is, and the love of him (and received fi-om him) is our fehcity, these are never to be se- parated. "What have I to rejoice in, if tliis hoped-for glor)- be not my joy ? All things else are d}ing to me ; and God him- self is not my feUcity, as he aSlicts me, nor as he giveth me the transitory gifts of nature, but as he is to be seen in glory. Kthis be not my joy, it is all but vanity. What, then, SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 269 should all my thoughts and laboiu* aim at more, as to my- self, than to hope for and foretaste this glory. No sin lieth heavier on me than my hopes of glory raise me to no higher joy ; and that the great weakness of my faith appeareth by such dull thoughts of glory, or by withdrawing fears. Sure there is enough in the glory of God, soundly beHeved and hoped for, to make a man rejoice in pain and weakness, and to make him long to be with Christ. I live not according to the nature of Christianity, if I live not as in peace with God, and in the joyful hopes of promised glory. Vn. "Not only so, but we glory in tribulation." Glory is so transcendent, and tribulation so small and short, that an expectant of glory may well rejoice in bodily sufferings. It is tribulation for Christ and righteousness' sake that we are said to glory in : the rest, for our sins, it is well if we can improve and patiently bear. Yet in them we may re- joice in hope of glory, though we glory not of them. Oh ! if all the painful, languid days, and nights, and years that I have had, as the fruit of- my sin, had been sufferings for that which I am now hated and hunted for, even for preach- ing Christ when men forbid me, how joyfully might I un- dergo it : but yet, even here, approaching glory should be my joy. Alas ! my groans and moans are too gi'eat, and my joy too little. VIII. " Knowing that tribulation worketh patience." That which worketh patience is matter of joy : for patience doth us more good than tribulation can do hurt ; why, then, do I groan so much under suffering, and so little study and exercise patience, and no more rejoice in the exercise thereof ? IX. " And patience, experience," It is manifold and profitable experience which patient suffering brings. It giveth us experience, as of nature's weakness, and the great need of faith ; so of the truth of God's promises, the love and tenderness of Christ, the acceptance of our prayers ; and the power of the Spirit's aid and grace. O what abundance of experiences of God and ourselves, and the vanity of crea- 270 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. tures, had we wanted, if we had not waited in a suffering state : alas ! how many experiences have I forgotten. X. " And experience, hope." A bare promise should give us hope : but we are still distrustful of ourselves, and of all the clearest eATidences, till experience help us, and set all home Oh, what an advantage hath a Christian of great and long experience for his hope and joy ! And yet when notable expei'iences of God's providence are past and gone, an unbelieving heart is ready to question, whether the things came not by mere natural course ; and, like the IsraeUtes in the wilderness, dangers and fears bear down even long and great experiences. This is my sin. XI. " And hope maketh not ashamed." That is, true hope of what God hath promised shall never be disap- pointed. They that trust on deceitful creatures are deceived, and ashamed of their hope : for all men are Hars, that is, untrusty ; but God is true, and ever faithful : O what a comfort is it that God commandeth me to trust him ! Sure such a command is a vutual promise, from him that cannot fail that trust wliich he commandeth. Lord, help me to trust thee in greatest dangers, and there to rest. Xn. " Because the love of God is shed abroad upon our hearts, by the Holy Ghost which is given to us." It is the love of God shed abroad on our hearts by the Holy Ghost which must make us rejoice in hope of the glory of God, even in tribulation. Here I must consider, I. What is meant by the love of God. n. Why and how it is shed abroad on the heart by the Holy Ghost. I. By the love of God is meant the effects of his love. 1. His special grace. 2. The pleasant gust or sense of it. n. God's love thus shed on the heart, presupposeth it expressed in the gospel and providence, and contains all these particulars. 1. The sanctifying of the soul by renewing grace. This is the giving of the Spuit, as he is given to all true Chris- tians. SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 271 2. Herein the Holy Ghost makes us perceive the exceed- ing desu-ableness of the love of God, and maketh us most desire it. 3. He giveth the soul some easing hope of the love of God. 4. He quieteth the doubts, and fears, and trouble of the soul. 5. He raiseth our hopes, by degrees, to confident assu- rance. 6. Then the thoughts of God's love are pleasant to the soul, and give it such delight as we feel in the love and fnn- tion of our most valued and beloved friends. 7. The soiil in this state is as unapt to be jealous of God, or to question his love, as a good child or wife to question the love of a parent or husband, or to hear any that speak evil of them. 8. This, then, becomes the habitual state of the soul, in all changes, to live in the delightful sense of the love of God, as we do live in pleasure Avith our dearest friends. O blessed state, and first fruits of heaven ! and happy are they that do attain it. And though lower degrees have their degree of happiness, yet how far short are such, in goodness, amiableness, and comfort, of those that are thus rich in grace. This presupposeth, 1 . Knowledge of God and the gospel. 2. True belief and hope. 3. A sincere and fruitful life. 4. Mortification as to idol worldly vanities. 6. A conviction of our sincerity in all this. 6. A conclusion that God doth love. But yet it is somewhat above all this. A man may have all this in his mind and mouth, and yet want this gust of effused love upon his heart. These are the way to it, but not itself. This is the greatest good on this side heaven ; to which all wealth and honour, all fleshly pleasure and long life, all learning and knowledge, axe unworthy to be once compared : briefly, 272 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 1. It is the flower and highest part of God's image on man. 2. It is the soul's true communion with God, and fiiiition of him. which carnal men deride : even as our eye hath com- munion with the sun, and the flourishing earth enjoys its re- vising heAts. 3. It is that which all lower grace doth tend to. as child- hood doth to manhood : and what is a world of in&nts, com- paratively, good for? 4. It is that which most properly answereth the deagn of redemption, and the wonders of Grod's love therein ; and all the tenor of the gospel. 5. It is that which is most fiilly called the Spirit of God, or Christ in us : he hath lower works, but this is his great work, by which he possesseth us, as God's most pleasant habituation : " For we have not received the spirit of bond- age again to fear, but the spirit of power and love, and a sound mind."" (2 Tim. i. 7.) 6. It is only that which all men in general desire, I mean the only satisfiing content and pleasure that man is capable of on earth. All men would have quieting and constant pleasure, and it is to be found ia nothing else but the ef- fused love of God- 7. It is that which will make every burden light, and all affliction easy : when the sense of God's love is still upon the soul, all pain and crosses will be but as blood-letting by the kindest physician to save the patient's life. God will not be suspected or .grudged at in suff*ering ; his love will sweeten all. 8. It will overcome abmidanoe of temptations, itdiich no men's wit. or learning, or knowledge of the words of Scrip- tm-e, will overcome. Xo arguments will draw a loving child, or wife, {rom the parents, or husband, that they know doth love them. Love is the most powerful disputant. 9. It puts a mellow, pleasant sweetness into all our du- ties. When we hear the word, or receive the sacrament, it is to such a soul as pleaiant food to the most healthful man ; when we pray or praise God it comes fix>m a oomfbrted SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 273 heart, and excites and increaseth the comfort it comes from. Oh, who can be backward to draw near to God in prayer or meditation, who tasteth the sweetness of his love ! This is religion indeed, and tells us what its Hfe, and use, and glory is. This is true walking with God in the best degree. "When the soul liveth in the taste of his love, the heart will be still with him, and that will be its pleasure. And God most delights in such a soul. 10. This is it that putteth the sweetest relish on all our mercies. Deny God's love, and you deny them all. If you taste not his love in them, you taste little more than a beast may taste ; poor food and raiment is sweet, vrith the sense of the love of God. Had I more of this, I should lie down, and rise, and walk in pleasure and content. I could bear the loss of other things ; and though nature will feel pains, I should have pleasure and peace in the midst of all my pains and groans. This is the white stone, the new name ; no man well knoweth it who never felt it in himself. 1 . There is no dying comfortably without this experienced taste of the love of God. This will draw up the desires of the soul ; love tasted, casteth out fear : though God be holy and just, and judgment terrible, and hell intolerable, and the soul hath no distinct idea of its future state out of the body, and though we see not whither it is that we must go, the taste of God's love will make it go joyfully, as trusting him ; as a child will go any whither in his father's power and hand. But all the knowledge in the world without this quiets not a departing soul. A man may write as many books, and preach as many sermons of heaven, as I have done, and speak of it, and think of almost nothing else, and yet tUl the soul be sweetened and comforted with the love of God shed abroad on it by the Holy Ghost, death and the next life will be rather a man's fear than his desire. And the common fear of death which we see in the far greater part even of godly persons doth tell us, that though they may have sav- ing desires and hopes, yet this sense of God's love on the heart is rare. S 274 SHORT MEDITATIONS OX ROMANS V. 1-5, &C, AYliat wonder, then, if our language, our converse, our praters, have too little savour of it, and in comparison of joyful believers' duties, be but like green apples to the mel- low ones. My God, I feel what it is that I want, and I perceive what it is that is most desirable : Oh, let not guilt be so far unpardoned as to deprive my soul of this greatest good, which thou hast commended to me, and commanded, and which in my languishing and pains I so much need ! Did I beg for wealth or honour, I might have it to the loss of others. But thy love will make me more useful to all, and none %riU have the less for my enjoyment ; for thou. Lord, art enough for all ; even as none hath the less of the sun- light for my enjo}ing it. The least well-grounded hope of thy love is better than all the pleasures of the flesh ; but without some pleasant sense of it, alas ! what a withered, languishing thing is a soul ! Thy lo^ing-kindness is better than hfe ; but if I taste it not, how shall I here rejoice in God, or bear my heav}" burdens ? O let me not be a dishonour to thy family, where all have so great cause to honour thy bounty by their joy and hopes ; nor, by a sad and fearful heart, tempt men to think that thy love is not real and satisfactory. I can easUy be- lieve and admire thy greatness and thy knowledge. Let it not be so hard to me to believe and taste thy goodness and thy love, which is as necessary to me. If there be anything (as surely there is) in which the di- vine nature and spirit of adoption consisteth, as above all the art and notions of religion, which are but like to other acquired knowledge, sure it must be this holy appetite and habitual incHnation of the soul to God, by way of love, which is bred by an internal sense of his lovehness, and loving in- clination to man ; which differenceth a Christian from other men, as a child differs towards his father, from strangers, or from common neighbours. Till the love of God be the very state and nature of the soul (working here towards his ho- nour, interests, word, and servants), no man can say that he is God's habitation by the Spirit ; and how the heart SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 275 will ever be thus liabited, without belieAT^ng God's love to us, it is hard to conceive. Experience tells the world how strongly it constraineth persons to love one another, if they do but think that they are strongly beloved by one another. In the love that tends to marriage, if one that is inferior do but know that a person of far greater worth doth fervently love them, it al- most puts a necessity and constraint on them for returns of love : nature can scarce choose but love in such a case. Love is the loadstone of love. A real taste of the love of God in saving souls by Christ and grace, is it that constrain- eth them to be holy ; that is, to be devoted to that God in love. III. But this must as necessarily be the work of the Holy Ghost, and can be no more done without him than the earth can be illuminated, and the vegetables live, without the sun. But all the approaches of the Holy Spirit suffice not to pro- duce this great effect, and give us the divine, holy nature. The same sunshine hath three different effects on its ob- jects. 1. On most things, as houses, stones, earth, it causeth nothing but accidents of heat, colour, and motion. 2. On some things it causeth a seminal disposition to vegetable life, but not life itself. 3. In this disposed matter it causeth vegetable life itself. So doth the Spirit of God, 1. Operate on millions but lifeless accidents, as the sun on a stone wall. 2. On others dispose and prepare them to divine life. 3. On others so disposed it efiectetli the divine life itself, when holy love is turned into a habit like to nature. That none but the Holy Ghost doth make this holy change is evident; for the effect cannot transcend the causes. 1. Nature alone is dark, and knoweth not the attractive ami- ableness of God till illuminated, nor can give us a satisfac- tory notice of God's special love to us. 2. Nature is guilty, and guilt breedeth fears of justice, and fear makes us become wild, and fly from God lest he should hurt us. 276 SHORT MEDITATIONS OK ROMANS V, 1-5, &C. 3. Nature is irnder penal sufferings already, and feeleth pain, fear, and many hm*ts. and foreseeth death, and under this is untlisposed of itself to feel the pleasure of God's love. 4. Xature is con-upted and diverted to creature vanity, and its appetite goeth another way. and cannot cure itself, and make itself suitable to the amiableness of God. 5. God hateth wickedness and wicked men. and mere nature cannot secure us that we are saved from that enmity. Diligence may do much to get religious knowledge, and words, and all that which I call the art of religion, and God may bless this as a preparation to holy life and love ; but till the soul's appetite incline with desire to God and holi- ness, divine things will not sweetly relish. And th'is is a great comfort to the thoughts of the sanc- tified, that certainly their holy appetite, desire, and com- placency, is the work of the Holy Ghost. For, 1. This se- cureth them of the love of God. of which it is the proper token. 2. And it assureth them of their imion with Christ, when they live because he Uveth, even by the Spirit, which is his seal and pledge. 3. And it proveth both a future life and their title to it : for God maketh not all this pre- paration for it by his Spirit in vain. But, alas I if it were not a work that hath great impedi- ment, it would not be so rare in the world. What is it in us that keepeth the sun of love from so shining on us as to revive our souls into holy contentments and delight ? It must be supposed, 1 . That aU God's gifts are free, and that he giveth not to all alike ; the wonderflil variety of creatures proveth this. 2. The reasons of his differencing works are his own will, and inferior reasons are mostly un- known to us, of which he is not bomid to give us an accoimt. 3. But yet we see that God doth his works in a casual order, and one work prepareth for another : and he maketh variety of capacities, which occasion variety of receptions and of gifts : and he useth to give ever^- thing that to which he hath brought it into the next capacity and disposition. And therefore, in general, we may conclude that we feel not God's love shed abroad upon the heart, because the SHORT MEDITATIONS OX ROMANS V. 1 6, &C. 277 heart is undisposed, and is not in the next disposition there- to ; and abused free-will hath been the cause of that. That we have grace, is to be ascribed to God : that we are with- out it, is to be ascribed to ourselves. 1. Heinous guilt of former sin may keep a soul much with- out the delights of divine love ; and the heinousness is not only in the greatness of the eiil done materially, but oft in our long and wilful committing of smaller sins against know- ledge, and conscience, and consideration. The Spirit thus grieved by hardened hearts, and wilful repulses, is not quickly and easily a Comforter to such a soul ; and when the sinner doth repent, it leaveth him more in uncertainty of his sincerity when he thinks, I do but repent, pui-pose, and promise now ; and so I oft did, and yet returned the next temptation to my sin : and hoAv can I tell that my heart is not the same, and I should sin again if I had the same temptations ? " O what doubts and perplexities doth oft wilful sinning prepare for ! . 2. And sins of omission have here a great part. The sweetness of God's love is a reward which slothful servants are unmeet for. It follows a " Well done, good and faith- ful servant." There is needful a close attendance upon God, and devotedness to him, and improvement of gospel grace, and revelation, to make a soul fit for amicable, sweet communion with God ; all that will save a soul from hell will not do this. He that will taste these divine love tokens must, 1. Be no stranger to holy meditation and prayer, nor unconstant, cold, and cursory in them : but must dwell and walk above with God. 2, And he must be wholly addicted to improve his Master's talents in the world, and make it his design and trade on earth to do all the good in the world he can ; and to keep his soul clean from the flesh, and worldly va- nity. And to such a soul God will make known his love. 3. And alas ! how ordinarily doth some carnal affection corrupt the appetite of the soul ; when we grow too much in love with men's esteem, or with earthly riches, or when our throats or fancies can master us into obedience, or vain 278 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. desires of meat, drink, recreation, dwelling, &c., the soul losetli its appetite to things divuie ; and nothing relisheth ■where appetite is gone or sick. We cannot serve God and Mammon, and we cannot at once taste much pleasure both in God and Mammon. The old, austere Christians found the mortification of the fleshly lusts a great advantage to the soul's delight in God. 4. And many en-ors about God's nature and works much liinder us from feasting on his love. 5. And especially the slight and ignorant thoughts of Christ, and the wondrous workings of God's love in him. 6. And especially if our belief itself once shake, or be not well and firmly founded. 7. And our shght thoughts of the office and work of the Holy Ghost on souls, and our necessity of it, and our not begging and waiting for the Spirit's special help. 8. And lastly, our mifaithful forgetfulness of manifold ex- peiiences and testimonies of his love, which should still be as fi'esh before us. ' Alas ! my soul, thou feelest thy defect, and knowest the hinderance, but what hope is there of remedy ? WiU God ever raise so low, so dull, so guilty a heart, to such a fore- taste of glory, as is this effiision of his love by the Holy Ghost? The lightsome days in spring and summer, when the sun reviveth the late naked earth, and clothes it with delectable beauties, differs not more from night and winter, than a soul thus re^Tvcd with the love of God doth differ fi'om an unbelie%'ing, formal soul. Though this great change be above my power, the Spiiit of God is not impotent, backward, barren, or inexorable. He hath appointed us means for so high a state ; and he appointeth no means in vain. Were my own heart obe- dient to my commands, all these following I would lay upon it ; yea, I will do it, and beg the help of God. 1. I charge thee, think not of God's goodness and love, as unproportionable to his gi'eatness and his knowledge ; nor overlook, in the whole frame of heaven and earth, the mani- festation of one any more than of the other. SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 279 II. Therefore let not the wickedness and misery of the world tempt thee to think basely of all God's mercies to the world ; nor the peculiar privileges of the churches draw thee to deny or contemn God's common mercies unto all. III. I charge thee to make the study of Christ, and the great work of man's redemption by him, thy chiefest learn- ing, and most serious and constant work ; and in that won- derful glass to see the face of divine love, and to hear what is said of it by the Son from heaven ; and to come boldly, as reconciled to God by him. IV. O see that thy repentance for former sins against knowledge and conscience, and the motions of ^God's Spirit, be sound, and thoroughly lamented and abhorred, how small soever the matter was in itself; that so the doubt of thy sincerity keep not up doubts of God's acceptance. V. Let thy dependence on the Holy Ghost, as given from Christ, be henceforth as serious and constant to thee as is the dependence of the eye on the light of the sun, and of natural life upon its heat and motion. Beg hard for the Holy Spirit, and gladly entertain it. VI. Oh, never forget the many and great experiences thou hast had, these almost sixty years observed, of mar- vellous favour and providence of God, for soul and body, in every time, place, condition, relation, company, or change, thou hast been in. Lose not all these love tokens of thy Father, while thou art beoffrino; more. VII. Hearken not too much to pained flesh, and look not too much into the grave ; but look out at thy prison windows to the Jerusalem above, and the heavenly society that triumph in glory. VIII. Let all thy sure notices of a future life, and of the communion we have here with those above, draw thee to think that the great number of holy souls that are gone before thee, must needs be better than they were here ; and that they had the same mind, and heart, and way; the same Saviour, Sanctifier, and promise, that thou hast ; and therefore they are as pledges of felicity to thee. Thou hast joj^lly lived with many of them here ; and is it not better 280 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. to be with them there ? It is only the state of glory fore- seen by faith, which most fully sheweth us the greatness of God's love. IX. Exercise thyself in psalms o praise, and daily mag- nify the love of God, that the due mention of it may warm and raise thy love to him. X. Receive all temptations against divine love with hatred and repulse ; especially temptations to unbehef ; and as thou wouldest abhor a temptation to murder, or perjury, or any other heinous sin, as much abhor all temptations which would hide God's goodness, or represent him to thee as an enemy, or imlovely. Thus God hath set the glass before us, in which we may see his amiable face. But alas ! souls in flesh are in great obscurity, and, conscious of their own weakness, are still distrustful of themselves, and doubt of all their apprehen- sions, till overpowering objects and influences satisfy and fix them. For this my soul vrith daily longings doth seek to thee, my God and Father : O pardon the sin that forfeits grace: I am ready to say, " Draw nearer to me ;" but it is meeter to say, " Open thou my eyes and heart, and remove all impediments, and undisposedness, that I may believe, and feel how near thou art, and hast been to me, while I perceived it not." XIII. It is God's love shed abroad on the heart by the Holy Ghost which must make us " rejoice in hope of the glory of God :" this will do it, and without this it will not be done. This would turn the fears of death into jo}-fiil hopes of future life. If my God will thus warm my heart with his love, it will have these following efiects in this matter. I. Love longeth for union, or nearness, and fruition ; and it would make my soul long after God in glorious presence. II. This would make it much easier to me to believe that there is certainly a future blessed life for souls ; while I even tasted how God loveth them. It is no hard thing to believe that the sun will give light and heat, and revive the frozen earth : nor that a father will shew kindness to his SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 281 son, or give him an inheritance. Why should it be hard to beUeve that God will glorify the souls whom he loveth, and that he will take them near himself; and that thus it shall be done to those whom he delights to honour ? III. This effusion of divine love would answer my doutjts of the pardon of sin : I should not find it hard to beUeve that love itself, which hath given us a Saviour, will forgive a soul that truly repenteth, and hates his sin, and giveth up himself to Christ for justification. It is hard to beHeve that a tyi-ant will forgive, but not that a father will pardon a returning prodigal son. IV. This effusion of divine love will answer my fears, which arise fi'om mere weakness of grace and duty : indeed, it will give no other comfort to an unconverted soul, but that he may be accepted if he come to God by Christ, with true faith and repentance ; and that this is possible. But it should be easy to believe, that a tender father will not kill or cast out a child for weakness, crying, or uncleanness. Divine love will accept and cherish even weak faith, weak prayer, and weak obedience and patience, which are sincere. V. This efiused love would confiite temptations that are drawn fi'om thy afflictions ; and make thee believe that they are not so bad as flesh representeth them : it would under- stand that every son that God loveth he cliasteneth, that he may not be condemned with the world, and that he may be partaker of his holiness, and the end may be the quiet fruit of righteousness ; it would teach us to believe that God in very faithfulness doth afflict us ; and that it is a good sign that the God of love intendeth a better life for his be- loved, when he trieth them with so many tribulations here : and though Lazarus be not saved for his suffering, it signi- fied that God, who loved him, had a life of comfort for him, when he had his evil things on earth. When pangs are greatest, the birth is nearest. VI. Were love thus shed on the heart by the Holy Ghost, it would give me a livelier apprehension of the state of blessedness which all the fidthful now enjoy : I should delightfully think of them as living in the joyful love of God, 282 SHORT MEDITATIONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. and ever fully replenished therewith. It pleaseth us to see the earth flourish in the spring ; and to see how pleasantly the lambs, and other young things, will skip and play : much more to see societies of holy Christians loving each other, and provoking one another to delight in God. O then what a pleasant thought should it be, to think how all our deceased godly friends, and all that have so died since the creation, are now together in a world of divine, perfect love ! How they are all continually wrapped up in the love of God, and live in the delight of perfect love to one another ! O my soul, when thou art -with them, thou wilt dwell in love, and feast on love, and rest in love ; for thou wilt more fully dwell in God, and God in thee : and thou wilt dwell with none but perfect lovers : they would not silence thee from praising God in their assembly : tyrants, malign ants, and persecutors, are more strange there (or far from thence) than toads, and snakes, and crocodiles, are from the bed or bedchamber of the king. Love is the air, the region, the world, they live in : love is their nature, their pulse, their breath, their constitution, their complexion and their work: it is their hfe, and even themselves and all. Full loth would one of those spirits be to dwell again among bhnd Sodomites, and mad, self-damning malignants upon earth. VII. Yea this efiused love will teach us to gather the glory of the blessed from the common mercies of this life ; doth God give his distracted, mahgnant enemies, health, wealth, plenty pleasure, yea, lordships, dominions, crowns, and kingdoms ; and hath he not much better for beloved holy souls ? Yea, doth he give the brutes life, sense, dehght, and beauty ; and hath he not better things for men — for saints ? There are some so blind as to think that man shall have no better hereafter, because brutes have not, but perish. But they know not how erroneously they think. The sen- sible souls of brutes are substance, and therefore are not annihilated at death : but God put them under us, and made them for us, and us more nearly for himself. Brutes SHORT MEDITATONS ON ROMANS V. 1-5, &C. 283 have not faculties to know and love God, to meditate on him, or praise him, or hy moral agency to obey his pre- cepts : they desire not any higher felicity than they have : God will have us use their service, yea, their lives and flesh, to tell us they were made for us. He tells us not what he doth with them after death : but whatever it is, it is not annihilation, and it is like they are in a state still of service unto man : whether united, or how indiA-iduate, we know not : nor yet whether those philosophers are in the right, that think that this earth is but a small image of the vast superior regions, where there are kingdoms answerable to these here, where the spirits of brutes are in the like sub- ection in aerial bodies, to thjDse low, rational spirits that inhabit the aerial regions, as in flesh they were to man in flesh. But it is enough for us that God hath given us fa- culties to know, love, praise, and obey him, and trust him for glory, which he never gave to them, because they were not made for things so high. Every creature's faculties are suited to their use and ends. And love tells me, that the blessed God, who giveth to brutes that life, health, and pleasure, which they are made and fitted for, will give his servants that heavenly delight in the fulness of his love and praise, and mutual, joyful love to one another, which nature fundamentally, and grace more immediately, hath made them fit for. Blessed J ehovah ! for what tastes of this effiised love thou hast given me, my soul doth bless thee, with some degree of gratitude and joy : and for those further measures which I want, and long for, and which my pained, languid state much needs, and would raise my joyful hopes of glory, I wait, I beg from day to day. O give me now, at the door of heaven, some fuller taste of the heavenly felicity : shed more abroad upon my heart, by the Holy Ghost, that love of thine which will draw up my longing soul to thee, re- joicing in the hope of the glory of God. Date Due 1 oifr 1 3 /Si o /