LIBRARY OF PRINCETON 
 
 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 BViiSOO .Y68 1827 
 Christian's companion in 
 SOLITUDE / With an introductOj 
 ESSAY BY David Young. ! 
 
SELECT 
 CHRISTIAN AUTHORS, 
 
 WITH 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS. 
 
 35 
 
i;blished>by william collins c^lasgo-vt. 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN'S 
 
 COMPANION IN SOLITUDE. 
 
 WITH 
 
 AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAV, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. DAVID YOUNG, 
 
 GLASGOW: 
 PRINTED FOR WILLIAM COLLINS; 
 
 WILLIAM WHYTE & CO. AND WM. OLIPHANT, EDINBURGH; 
 
 U. M. TIMS, AND WM. CURRY, JUN. & CO. DUBLIN ; 
 
 AND G. B. WHITTAKER, LONDON. 
 
 1827. 
 
Priiited by W. CkiUins & Co. 
 Glasgow. 
 
'f^PERTV Of 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 There is one word, at least, on the title page of this 
 volume, which, with certain classes of people, will give 
 to it no interest, and conciliate for it no friends. — 
 " Solitude and a book !" — some one of them will ex- 
 claim — " and such a book as this too, which talks of 
 nothing but solemn self-inquiry, and the duty and pri- 
 vilege of walking with God, and frequent spiritual 
 converse with him, and breathings of Christian devo- 
 tion ! — This is a combination which will never do with 
 me, and the person is not my friend, or else he knows 
 me not, who would tender to me any such proposal. 
 I, at least, am not made for solitude. The very 
 thought of it, seriously urged upon me, has never 
 failed to sicken my spirit, extinguish the vivacity of 
 my nature, and involve me in sulkiness or sorrow. 
 And to add to the solitude, the dull and dismal 
 companionship of such a volume as this, which treats 
 of a subject which I disown, and inculcates activities 
 which I despise, and eulogizes pleasures which I 
 dislike, is to deepen the gloom of my situation, and 
 render my unhappiness complete." 
 
 Another may bring against the word a charge 
 
VI 
 
 which is yet more weighty than this. " I," he may 
 say, " am a man of the world, with all my habits and 
 inclinations formed to its gains or gratifications; but 
 my youthful education was Christian, and my con- 
 science, influenced by that education, is ever ready 
 to reproach me with a base and perverse abandon- 
 ment of my earliest and best impressions. I know 
 more of Christianity already, than is compatible with 
 peace of mind ; and were I shut up in solitude 
 with this volume in my hand, and no eye upon me 
 but that of the great God, I could not fail to be 
 utterly miserable. The reminiscences of education, 
 which even in society I can scarcely evade, would 
 freshen before me, and ply me with accusations 
 which my heart cannot endure; the respondings 
 of conscience within me would substantiate these 
 accusations as righteous in themselves, and fearful in 
 their indications; and resolved as I am, at all ha- 
 zards, to hold on in my present career, what could so- 
 litude do for me, in circumstances so very critical, but 
 fill me with horror and remorse? No, ye pleaders for 
 Christianity, speak not of solitude to me. It is the 
 staunchest and mightiest ally of my great and for- 
 midable enemy — the deputy of God within me; and 
 I must avoid it, since I dare not meet it, as a man 
 meets his adversary in direct and confronted combat." 
 There are others, however, by whom the announce- 
 ment of a " Companion in Sohtude" will be re- 
 ceived with very different emotions. Society has 
 used them ill, or at least they think so. They are 
 the children of disappointment and chagrin. Their 
 spirits are formed by natural infirmity, or have become 
 by the attrition of life, so sore, and shrinking, and 
 
vu 
 
 sensitive, that they can no longer endure the justlings 
 of social intercourse; and although they are still in- 
 clined to look at man through the transparencies of 
 their apartments, or the duller medium of books, yet 
 they are jealous of all exposure to the collision of his 
 opinions. " Man was made for solitude," is the 
 verdict which they give forth. ** His tempers are 
 too acrimonious to promote the comminglings of 
 placid and pleasurable intercourse. There is so 
 much of the selfish and artful, or malign and detrac- 
 tive, or rude and repulsive, in his nature, that there 
 is no way of avoiding his enmity, nor any hope of 
 continuous comfort, except in the abode of seclusion 
 and loneliness." It is to be expected that such 
 persons will hail the offer of a " Companion in 
 Solitude," and that too with so much the greater 
 cordiality, that the proffered companion is not a man 
 but a book, which will talk, or be silent, give out 
 suggestions, or retain them, just as they choose to 
 open and read it, or shut it, and turn away — unless 
 peradventure the word " Christian's" should prove 
 a prefixture, which checks their fondness, or disap- 
 points their expectations. 
 
 But there is little difficulty in perceiving, that all 
 this talking, from first to last, is distempered talking 
 — the crude and acrid cogitations of a mind which 
 is chaffed by moral disease. That man was made 
 for society is not true, if the meaning be that he 
 should be always in society ; and that he was made 
 for solitude is equally untrue, if the meaning be that 
 he should be always alone. There is truth in both 
 statements, but the truths are correlative, recipro- 
 cally modifying and defining each other, and the 
 
Vlll 
 
 man who would hold by either, to the entire nega- 
 tion of the other, might, with nearly as little impro- 
 priety, affirm of the bodies of men that they were 
 made to be awake but never asleep, or made to be 
 asleep but never awake. 
 
 The truth is, that every man, by the law of his 
 creation, is at once a part of an associated whole and 
 a separate individual existence; and to view him ex- 
 clusively in either of these aspects, and treat him 
 according to its indications, is essentially to come 
 short in the knowledge of his nature, and mar the 
 culture of his powers. He must have society to 
 stimulate his faculties', and rectify his juvenile errors, 
 and form him to the business of social life, and fur- 
 nish him with scenes of suitable development for 
 the fellow-feeling of his heart: and he must have 
 solitude, to consolidate the interests, and foster the 
 growth, of his individual being, by securing the calm 
 and considerate discipline of the multitude of thoughts 
 which work within him. If you deny him the former 
 altogether, you cripple his energies, and sophisticate 
 his character, by entailing on him all the disabilities 
 of an unnaturally protracted childhood ; and if you 
 deny him the latter altogether, you inure him to 
 habits of restlessness and volatility, which are in no 
 degree suited to his destiny, as a traveller to the 
 world of spirits. It is by neither the one nor the 
 other, but a wise attempering of both, according to 
 diversities of constitution, and varied moral circum- 
 stances, that he can hope to attain the proper use of 
 the situation in which God has placed him. 
 
 The man who declaims against solitude, then, 
 because it involves him in en?iui, or sours his humours 
 
IX 
 
 into disgust, is just taking his own way of giving the 
 world to understand, not only that his head is empty, 
 and his heart frivolous, but that he childishly rejects 
 the use of a most effective instrument for promoting 
 his moral well-being. He is indeed a miserable 
 man; for having no resources within himself from 
 which to derive enjoyment, or the means of profitable 
 avocation, he is dependant every hour on supplies 
 from without, and as these supplies are so precarious, 
 as often to fail him in the meantime, while they leave 
 him entirely at last, he denies himself the only train- 
 ing which can avail him in future emergencies. 
 The man, again, who allows himself to be driven 
 from solitude by the reproaches of his conscience, 
 or the dreaded frown of omniscient God, is verily 
 guilty by his own confession ; and amidst all the de- 
 ference, or even renown, which may be awarded to 
 him by the irreligious, he wanders about like the 
 first of murderers, a fugitive and a vagabond in the 
 earth, while, like that murderer too, he is atheist 
 enough to imagine, that he can hide himself from 
 the presence of the Lord. He is, in fact, a moral 
 coward, who first does violence to heaven's eternal 
 law, and then absconds, like the worst of miscreants, 
 from the righteous reaction of that law. It is not 
 solitude in itself, which is the object of his aversion, 
 but that reckoning with God in the absence of man, 
 to which solitude constrains him; and it were just as 
 equitable to take his estimate of the matter, as to 
 convert the traitor into a judge on the demerit of 
 his own offences. 
 
 Nor is the verdict of those on the opposite ex- 
 treme, who, as they think, have been justled out of 
 A3 
 
society, and soured into a love of solitude, by the 
 supposed unfriendliness of others, entitled to a better 
 reception. They speak the language of haste or 
 spleen, but not of calm reflection. God has given 
 them social affections, which they have no right to 
 eradicate, and placed them in a system of connec- 
 tions, where they may reflect and receive a great 
 variety of improving influences. He has promised 
 privileges to be enjoined, and prescribed duties to 
 be discharged, and determined reformations to be 
 achieved, and created sympathies to be exercised, 
 which all require the nerve, as well as the pervasive 
 excitement, and mutually animating glow of united 
 operation: and for them to fly off* from associated 
 life, in chagrin at the friction of its movements, is 
 just to foster the monstrous presumption, that the 
 mighty mechanism of human society, with all its 
 grandeur and moral competency, ought either to 
 work as they would have it, or be broken up and 
 given to the winds, in homage to individual caprice. 
 Extravagances of this latter kind, however, are 
 limited in number, and whatever injury they may 
 inflict on their individual victim, they seldom amount 
 to a sensible deduction from the effective resources 
 of society at large. It is the excessive love of in- 
 tercourse with his fellows, and not the desire of 
 being alone, which is the besetting sin of modern 
 man. Society around us, like the contents of the 
 kaleidoscope, presents itself in many an aspect, 
 while, in every one of them, it is glowing with 
 fancied interest, and bright with illusory attraction. 
 It is teeming with life, and warm with enterprize, 
 rural or mercantile; it is ingenious in speculation, or 
 
XI 
 
 dexterous in art; polished and gay, or vulgar and 
 dissipated; wallowing in wealth, or panting after it; 
 all bustle and continual engrossment; wooing atten- 
 tion, and promising to repay it in many a nameless 
 decorated form of gain, or honour, or mere amuse- 
 ment, as well as gross and vicious indulgence; while 
 the tendency of the whole is to draw the incautious 
 out of their seclusion, and keep them forever in the 
 crowd. The result is, that, to an alarming extent, 
 the people in many thousands, at every stage of life, 
 and in all classes of society, have first forgotten, 
 and then become afraid to enter on the business of 
 solitude. They seem as if they had lost their indi- 
 viduality; and when a leisure hour can be redeemed 
 from business or manual labour, instead of devoting 
 it to solemn converse with themselves about the 
 character and condition of their moral nature, or the 
 gifts and requirements of the God that made them, 
 or the ultimate destiny on which they are advancing, 
 they rush into society, however frivolous, and give 
 themselves up to its dissipating influence, as if they 
 had nothing to occupy their minds but business and 
 relaxation. 
 
 The moral injury which all this is silently inflict- 
 ing on irreligious men cannot be easily estimated, 
 while its tendency to defeat the formation of habits 
 of self-inspection, or to destroy them where they 
 exist, and thus prevent those moods of mind which 
 are most favourable to religious impression, is a sub- 
 ject of melancholy reflection to every considerate 
 mind. But it were too much to suppose that the 
 injury is confined to this department, for experience 
 has always taught us, that whatever the evil agency 
 
Xll 
 
 may be which works pervasively in society at large, 
 it is sure to take eflPect in less or more on the por- 
 tion of Christianity which mingles with that society, 
 and to taint the characters of her professors with 
 the blight of its withering influence. That such is 
 the case at present, in reference to the point before 
 us, there can be no reasonable doubt. Christians 
 are infected by the existing mania for business, or 
 wealth, or splendour, or elegant frivolity, or showy 
 amusement; and the consequence is, that even they 
 as well as others are robbed of their time, and de- 
 prived of their relish for the duties of religious re- 
 tirement. 
 
 When we speak of retirement, however, we mean 
 by it a great deal more than that condition of ex- 
 ternal quiet in which the man is literally alone, with 
 his body inactive, and his mind at ease, or floating 
 at random through any forms of imagery which 
 accident may throw in his way. This is not the 
 business of retirement, but its relaxation which 
 may at times be necessary to relieve the exhaustion 
 of mind or body, and compensate for the drain of 
 energy which prolonged exertion may have made 
 upon both. But what we refer to, is that habit of 
 mind, in the exercise of which, at convenient in- 
 tervals, the Christian retires from the world in all 
 its secular concerns, and deliberately places himself in 
 the presence of his God, and enters on a solemn 
 scrutiny of all his thoughts, and words, and actions, 
 with their spirit, and motives, and tendencies; and 
 brings the whole to the test of Christian privilege 
 and Christian law, and ingenuously condemns him- 
 self wherever he is wrong, and renews his application 
 
XIU 
 
 to the fountain of remission, as a victim of guilt and 
 helplessness; and purposes amendment, in the spirit 
 of contrition, and hope, and fear; and thus prepares 
 himself for returning to society with a deeper awe 
 upon his spirit, and a holier jealousy about him, as 
 well as a renewed intensity of desire to be kept un- 
 spotted from the world. Such is a specimen of the 
 serious business which every Christian must be in 
 the habit of transacting, or else be guilty of egre- 
 gious trifling with the weightiest of all his concerns; 
 and it is but a specimen: for although this may be 
 regarded as the essential part which claims the at- 
 tention of all, yet the business of solitude must be 
 greatly diversified, according to varied circumstances, 
 personal, or relative, or local, in which the man is 
 placed in the course of providence. 
 
 Now, although it requires no argument, nor any 
 expostulation, either to convince a real Christian, 
 that this is a business of vital importance for clearing 
 up his course, and enabling him to travel onwards 
 with confidence and joy, or to assure him, that he 
 must have his intervals of solitude, to enable him to 
 conduct it with suitable deliberation; yet the grand 
 obstacle which opposes the assurance, in the minds 
 of not a few, is the want of time, imagined or real, 
 for that reflective solitude which is necessary to its 
 success. When the Christian is reasoned with, 
 about his omissions in this department, he cannot 
 contest the point of duty, for this point he feels 
 settled within him, by something like the decision of 
 instinct; but his plea of defence is usually as follows, 
 " I know the importance of what you contend for, 
 and most sincerely do I deplore the adverse circum- 
 
XIV 
 
 stances which place it so often beyond my reach, but 
 I am so much the victim of care, and business, and 
 ever-recurring incident, and endlessly harassing so- 
 licitude, that my mind is scarcely ever composed; 
 and how can I enter on so solemn an exercise, ex- 
 cept in a haste and flutter of spirit, which are quite 
 incompatible with its character?" 
 
 This objection, it is frankly admitted, we cannot 
 refute by a direct disproof of its verity; for no man 
 who sits in his closet, and expostulates on paper 
 with the Christian public, can venture to specify the 
 portions of time which might be rescued by them to 
 Christian purposes, without admitting into his cal- 
 culation a considerable variety of items, which, in 
 the experience of not a few, may be known to be 
 irredeemable. Nor must it be denied, that the ob- 
 jection involves a real grievance, which is often the 
 source of ingenuous regret to many a good man. 
 But it is a principle of very general currency, both 
 among the maxims of the moralist, and in the annals 
 of human experience, that a man seldom fails to find 
 time for that which is impressed upon his mind as a 
 matter of primary importance. The magnitude of 
 such a thing so engrosses his thoughts, and pleads 
 for the pre-eminence, as to reduce other concerns to 
 the rank of secondaries in his view; and thus does it 
 happen, that the great concern, just because it is 
 felt to be great, not only finds room for itself, and 
 time for its consideration, but exerts a commanding 
 influence over all his other activities, laying them 
 under a regular contribution to its power and its 
 prerogative. The dominion which a matter of mag- 
 nitude is capable of holding over the human mind 
 
XV 
 
 in this way, is truly astonishing; and what is more, 
 when this matter is wisely chosen, or worthy of the 
 place assigned to it, its dominant influence is far less 
 obstructive of the claims of minor interest, than 
 beforehand was expected. We wish to found upon 
 this principle, in the case before us, and being quite 
 assured, that in proportion as the importance of soli- 
 tude is clearly made out to the mind of a Christian, 
 he gains the power of commanding time for it. Let 
 us devote a few pages to the elucidation of its im- 
 portance. 
 
 1. The Christian requires solitude to preserve the 
 entireness of his own individual existence, in a moral 
 point of view. Although no extent of intercourse 
 with society can put a person in any hazard of losing 
 the identity of his mind, in the physical sense of the 
 word, yet, in a moral point of view, the danger of 
 falling under this calamity is any thing but small. 
 A man may be so frequently conversant with other 
 men, and so powerfully influenced by their spirit 
 and opinions, as to cease from having any spirit or 
 any opinions of his own. The individuality of his 
 mind, as a principle which is bound to think for 
 itself, and act from its own independent convictions, 
 may be so neutralized, by a kind of absorption into 
 other minds, as to be no longer itself^ but converted 
 by a process of slow and insensible transmutation 
 into the creature of other minds. We need not 
 specify cases to show that this possibility is often 
 realized in fact; for every one knows that it is so 
 who has seen but a little of the living world. Nor 
 are the instances of this confined to those whose 
 
XVI 
 
 physical imbecility seems to warrant their relinquish- 
 ment of mental independence, as the dictate of prac- 
 tical wisdom — a class, by the way, which we believe 
 to be small indeed — but the same instances, we fear, 
 are, through the operation of various causes, to be 
 found among vast multitudes, who are perfectly ca- 
 pable of asserting the right, and exercising the privi- 
 lege which is chartered to them, by the God that 
 made them. 
 
 It is very true, that the doctrine of independence 
 has its limits, beyond which it cannot be carried 
 without a certain detriment; for many an excellent 
 public measure, either in politics or religion, would 
 remain for ever unaccomplished, unless, at the 
 proper crisis, some potent spirit should emerge 
 from the crowd, and become the leader of thou- 
 sands : although even here, the gathered host must 
 ever be unwieldy, unless it has been drawn together 
 by a unison of individual opinion. — But to follow 
 a lender in matters of solemn personal concern, 
 and such a leader too, as promiscuous Christian 
 society, till a man has lost his moral identity in the 
 mass of that society, and positive!?/ ceased to be his 
 own, is to inflict an injury on his spiritual well-being, 
 which nothing earthly can compensate. It inter- 
 poses an authority, which is truly alien between his 
 conscience and the authority of God: and thus entails 
 on him the awful evil of living without God in the 
 world. For, although the associates be really reli- 
 gious, to whom he has committed the forming of his 
 character, and although the influence which they 
 send forth upon him be ever so pure or well inten- 
 tioiied, yet if he has failed to discriminate in the 
 
XVll 
 
 matter; if he has allowed others to think for him, 
 but declined to think for himself; if he is only reli- 
 gious because they are religious, and has thus become 
 theii' creature, but not the creature of their God 
 in Christ; he may palliate the matter as he will, and 
 there may be redeeming circumstances of which we 
 wish not to deprive him, but he cannot entirely 
 escape the charge of " changing the image of the 
 incorruptible God into an image made like to cor- 
 ruptible man." It is in this one mistake, so deep 
 and disastrous, and mournfully prevalent, that we 
 are to seek for the origin of that flimsy ephemeral 
 piety, with which the church is so sorely aggrieved 
 — a piety, which to-day may be fresh, and lively, 
 and all to your mind, but to-morrow has dropped 
 into extinction— a piety in short, which may seem 
 to prosper so long as you surround it with a suitable 
 influence, or allow it to lean on the piety of others; 
 but, if left to itself, or constrained to subsist on its 
 own resources, is instantly in danger, and easily 
 overthrown by the slightest wind of temptation. 
 
 Now, although solitude in itself is not the remedy 
 for this evil, yet it is the only suitable situation where 
 the remedy can be sought or found. Men vacillate 
 in religion, or adopt the current creed, or easily take 
 the mould of society around them; just because they 
 have lost the power, or never firmly asserted it, 
 of thinking for themselves. But, if they are to 
 thinkybr themselves, to any effective purpose, they 
 must also contrive to be by themselves ; for it is not 
 among crowds, or in the bustle of social intercourse, 
 that a man can be expected to isolate his soul from 
 extrinsic influence, and cause it to feel its individual 
 
XVIU 
 
 responsibility, and constrain it to have to do imme- 
 diately and directly with him, who alone has a right 
 to govern it. Assuredly not. To secure the en- 
 tireness of his separate existence, or to preserve that 
 mind which he feels to be himself^ from being merged 
 in the thoughts, or blended with the feelings, or 
 passively changed into the likeness of other minds, 
 which cannot meet his destiny, nor relieve him of 
 his responsibilities, there must be seasons at which 
 he stands off from society, and discards it from his 
 view, and devotes himself assiduously to those 
 peculiar concerns, which by the law of his creation 
 are emphatically his own. Thus it is, that any 
 human being, whatsoever he be, who is estranged 
 from the duties of thoughtful solitude, misuses his 
 own nature, and exposes it to fearful hazards. But 
 if this be true of man, as man, what additional force 
 is given to its truth, in the case of the Christian, 
 who has a spiritual process going on within him, 
 so interesting in itself, so easily injured by intrusion 
 from the world, requiring such a carefulness of 
 personal management, and so sublime in the result 
 to which it is advancing? 
 
 2. The Christian requires solitude, to gain him 
 acquaintance with the state of his heart as a religious 
 being. Nothing can be more precious to a serious 
 professor of Christianity, than the means of ascer- 
 taining whether he is or is not a living subject of 
 that religion, the name of which he has assumed. 
 Or if he has ascertained this point already on the 
 one side, or on the other, it is of the utmost impor- 
 tance for him to keep reckoning with his soul forever 
 
XI3C 
 
 afterward, in order to satisfy himself whether the 
 workings of his mind, which follow the ascertain- 
 ment, are suited or opposed to its special indications. 
 For if he allows himself to get into darkness here, 
 and slothfully permits the darkness to continue, 
 it will spread an influence, the most injurious, over 
 the whole extent of his religious interests. He may 
 still be in earnest about the matter, or feel himself 
 the subject of confused religious impressions ; but 
 how can he have freedom of mind to perform the 
 duties of religion, or partake of its warranted con- 
 solations, while he hangs in continual suspense, and 
 knows not the precise character in which he has to 
 do with the God of salvation. We grant, indeed, 
 that the case of a bewildered Christian, and that of 
 an awakened sinner, may so resemble each other, 
 that the exercise which is suited to the one in his 
 perplexities, may be equally suited to the other; and 
 we grant also, that a Christian approaching his God 
 amidst much confusion of mind, and great indefinite- 
 ness of view and exercise, may yet find acceptance 
 and spiritual relief; but still the man who is a Chris- 
 tian, ought to make his approach as a Christian, and 
 not merely as a sinner awakened; and whenever he 
 loses the power of doing so, he loses also a high ad- 
 vantage for the prosecution of religious exercise. 
 
 That there is a distinction, which is not only 
 assignable in itself, but highly serviceable in a prac- 
 tical point of view, between the modification of re- 
 ligious exercise, which is proper for him who knows 
 himself a Christian, and that which befits the man 
 who, so far as he knows, is only the subject of serious 
 concern, will be readily admitted by all who are 
 
XX 
 
 suitably acquainted with the Christian Ufe. In the 
 former case, there is a saving relation, not only estab- 
 lished, but known and experienced, between the 
 worshipper and him whom he adores, with a char- 
 acter of sonship, and a title of peculiar privilege in- 
 volved in that relation; and thus a provision made 
 both ample and efficient, as well as presently felt, for 
 exciting the emotions of filial confidence, and prompt- 
 ing the utterance of gratitude and joy. But in the 
 latter case, there is no such relation as yet existing, 
 or at least at present in his view, and, of course, there 
 can be no experience of any one specific emotion to 
 which it gives rise. The man is distressed, because 
 he is alive to the dismal indications of his guilt and 
 depravity; or his distress, it may be, is alleviated, in 
 some degree, by the loose and indefinite hope, that 
 God may possibly grant him deliverance; but, in the 
 mean time, there is nothing in him, or put upon him, 
 so far as he has any evidence, which characterizes a 
 child of God. It is a very possible thing, that this 
 latter person may be a child of God, as really, al- 
 though not so obviously, as the former — we shall 
 assume it, that he is so, and that the spirit of adop- 
 tion is stirring within him, although he cannot dis- 
 cern its symptoms; but whatever may be the secret 
 fact, it is to him for the present, as if it were not, 
 and when he approaches unto God, in such a state 
 of mind, he is constrained to do so amidst all the 
 confusion or distraction of thought which its char- 
 acter entails. He draws near, not with the confi- 
 dence of a child, but with the feverish solicitude of 
 an alien or outcast. Were this a case but seldom 
 to be met with, it might occasion less regret, but if 
 
XXI 
 
 it be in fact a common case, as we fear must be ad- 
 mitted, and if not a few who are really serious, are 
 found to languish under its disquietudes, to the 
 wounding of their spirits, and the grievous hinder- 
 ance of their growth in grace, for many months or 
 years together, it merits the gravest consideration. 
 
 But let it be carefully noticed here, that while 
 the man who is a Christian, possesses facilities for 
 the practice of piety, which are altogether peculiar 
 to himself, the whole of these facilities arises from 
 the fact of his knowing what he is, and from that 
 fact alone. The spirit of the gospel is not a dor- 
 mant spirit, giving life without consciousness, or 
 imparting privilege which is unperceived. It is 
 just the reverse of this; for in its very essence it is a 
 matter of consciousness, distinctly appreciated, and 
 uniformly digested into experience, by all its gen- 
 uine subjects. But if this be its character, it is 
 morally impossible for any man to avail himself 
 practically of its high excitements, or do suitable 
 homage to its great Author, except in as far as he 
 feels it made out, that his heart is the seat of its 
 saving influence. There are but two spirits which 
 can operate here, the spirit of bondage, and the 
 spirit of adoption; and the soul which feels not the 
 risings of the latter, must necessarily be repressed 
 by the forebodings of the former. There may be the 
 reality of vital religion where there is little of clear- 
 ance or certainty, just as there may be bodily life 
 amidst the symptoms of a weakening disease; but as, 
 in the one case, the man must come short in discharg- 
 ing secular duty, so, in the other, must he come 
 short in discharging the duties which are religious. 
 
xxu 
 
 That this shortcoming not only exists, but has 
 attained a deplorable prevalence, we need no other 
 evidence than the honest admissions and lamentations 
 of Christians themselves. Although they choose 
 not to unbosom their secret to those who have none 
 of their sympathies, and cannot appreciate their re- 
 grets, yet among their intimates the complaint is loud 
 and affecting, that although their external access to 
 the Scriptures, or the Sabbath, or the preaching of 
 the gospel, or the prayers and praises of the church, 
 or the socialities of religion in domestic exercises, be 
 free and unembarrassed, and although they are not 
 only conscious of a sacred veneration for religious 
 institutions, but cherish at their hearts a very vivid 
 impression of the spiritual invigoration which they 
 are fitted to impart, yet they derive from them little 
 excitement, and experience in them little enjoyment. 
 They are poor and perplexed, amidst a flowing abun- 
 dance of spiritual wealth and spiritual solacement; 
 or are peevish and querulous, under the very same 
 privileges which minister to others satisfaction and 
 delight. 
 
 Now we would call upon every one who is found 
 complaining as above, most solemnly to inquire — 
 whether the cause of the evil complained of, may 
 not be not only an uncertainty, but a culpable and 
 tolerated uncertainty, about his true character in the 
 sight of God — and whether the precise kind of cul- 
 pability which superinduced this uncertainty, or suf- 
 fers it to deepen and extend, be not the entire omis- 
 sion, or the slight and fitful performance of the duties 
 of a meditative solitude. 
 
xxm 
 
 3. The Christian requires solitude, for the pro- 
 fitable management of the moral elements in which 
 he has to move. We have said already, that man 
 requires to be alone, to preserve his mind from that 
 absorption — to speak so — in the minds of others, 
 which injures or destroys his natural independence, 
 and thereby unfits him for doing his duty. But, 
 there is more than this which requires attention, in 
 reference to society around him. Such society is in- 
 tended, by the God of providence, to promote his 
 education for the spiritual world; and besides prevent- 
 ing it from injurious invasion, he ought to improve it 
 for positive advantage. It is not enough that its evil 
 be neutralized, it must be rendered serviceable; and 
 the man who has failed to do the latter, is sure to 
 come short in attaining the former. There is so 
 much of the positive in the influence of human 
 society, and so much of the susceptible in every one 
 who comes near it, that good or evil, gain or loss, 
 advantage or disadvantage, must result from its daily 
 intromissions with him. It is clearly not possibk 
 for a man to mingle with other people, in their reli- 
 gion, or their business, or contentions, or friendly 
 fellowship, or even in their lighter conversations, 
 without taking impressions from them, of one kind 
 or other; which go, it may be said, into his moral 
 constitution, and powerfully influence the formation 
 of his character. However taciturn his habits may 
 be, he at least gazes on a scene of moral phenomena, 
 which is ever shifting, and much deversified, and is 
 all over-glowing with interest, just because he feels 
 it a development of man. In fact, he lives in a 
 moral element, the motion of which he feels, and 
 
XXIV 
 
 the spirit of which he inhales, and the forms of 
 which he puts on, and from the region of which he 
 cannot escape ; and although the action of its influ- 
 ence on his heart and character, may be slow or 
 silent, or stealthy in its progress, yet it goes deep, 
 and works pervasively, on both the one and the other. 
 For examples of this influence on classes of men, 
 we have only to trace a comparison between the 
 citizen and the man of the country; the Scotsman, 
 and the English, or Irishman ; the Briton, and the 
 Frenchman; the travelled man, and the dweller at 
 home; — all of whom are modified by the general in- 
 fluence of society, while each of them exhibits a 
 specific modification according to the particular kind 
 of society in which his character was formed — thus 
 illustrating its powerful tendency, in all places of the 
 earth, to mould the individual into the likeness of 
 itself. Now, in the bosom of this tendency, there 
 lies a moral agency, of very serious import to the 
 individual Christian. It may in fact destroy him, 
 as was hinted formerly, if he give himself up to it, 
 and allow it to make of him whatsoever it pleases. 
 But, on the other hand, it may do him much good, 
 if he set himself with firmness to master its ascend- 
 ency, and hold it in subordination to the great busi- 
 ness of his life. Nay, it is fraught with benefits, 
 some of them pleasurable, and others painful; but 
 all of them fitted, when wisely improven, to consoli- 
 date within him the principles of piety, and make 
 him skilful in the practice of righteousness. God 
 has ordained it for this very end, and, without quar- 
 relling with the ordination on the one extreme, or 
 seeking its pleasures without its profits on the other, 
 
XXV 
 
 he should take it as it is, and deport himself accord- 
 ingly. The virtues of social life exhibit an exam- 
 ple which is powerful, because living, and human, 
 and is set before his eyes to fire his emulation, or 
 rebuke his conscious deficiencies — the blemishes 
 blended with these virtues, and seen by him in 
 others, but not so easily in himself, are intended to 
 stimulate his vigilance, and quicken his self-inspec- 
 tion — the ever-recurring follies of life, with the dis- 
 asters which often follow them, are disclosed before 
 him in many forms, to keep him from copying after 
 them, and teach him maxims of wisdom — the whole 
 commixture, in short, of piety and impiety, know- 
 ledge and ignorance, experience and inexperience, 
 truth and error, integrity and crime, love and hatred, 
 peace and contention, spiritual and secular affection, 
 comfort and wretchedness, is disclosed to his view, in 
 warm and restless activity; with the God of provi- 
 dence pervading the whole, and controlling its every 
 movement, just that he may gather out of it those 
 stimulants, or caveats, or gratitudes, or regrets, 
 which enter into his education for the scenes of a 
 loftier fellowship. 
 
 But it is very manifest, here again, that these 
 advantages are not to be acquired by thoughtless in- 
 difference, or a passive acquiescence in all that 
 occurs; but by a calm, and active, and meditative 
 survey of actions, and incidents, and moral appear- 
 ance, as they pass in review before him, and a sub- 
 jecting of these to the great purpose for which he is 
 placed among them. It is not by yielding himself 
 up to the current, but by gliding along with it, or 
 beating up against it, or crossing it obliquely, ac- 
 B 35 
 
XXVI 
 
 cording as he finds it favourable or adverse, that the 
 mariner reaches the distant haven. He floats not 
 inactive on the bosom of the ocean, but rules it by 
 the laws of his art, and compels it to aid his design 
 amidst all its tumultuary movements. So must it 
 be with the man who feels himself afloat on the 
 ocean of human society. He must not be a bond- 
 man, but a freeman in that society ; not its vassal, 
 but its lord, resisting its hurtful encroachments, and 
 laying it under contribution to the specific business 
 of his life. We say not that he is bound to control 
 its measures, or is always able to do this any more 
 than the voyager can bid the billows be still, or com- 
 pel them to undulate in the direction of his move- 
 ment ; but, resting on the resources of his religion, 
 he is able to control its influence in its effects upon 
 himself, and estimate its operation on the spirit of 
 his mind, and convert it into a ministration of salu- 
 tary Christian tuition. 
 
 In order to this, however, it is indispensable that 
 he retreat upon his Bible, and imbue his mind with 
 the holy principles of his Bible, and bring the in- 
 fluence of society into comparison with these princi- 
 ples, as the grand ultimate test by which it is to be 
 tried. Without the aid of this supreme directory^ 
 he has no means of managing society, nor any sure 
 guide by which to discover the practical use to which 
 its appearances ought to be turned. Without it, in 
 short, he is weak and helpless, having nothing to 
 oppose to the errors of society, but his own private 
 sentiment; nor any thing to sanction its seeming 
 rectitude, but the concurrence of erring mortals; 
 nor any solution of its dubious phenomena, but con- 
 
xxvu 
 
 jectures as dubious as they. But this comparison of 
 the spirit of society, with the pure spirit of the 
 Bible, and consequent ascertainment of its practical 
 results, is not an act to be despatched at once, but a 
 process of thought and carefulness, running on 
 through the course of life, adapting itself to the 
 varied aspects which the moving world successively 
 assumes, and necessary, at every stage, to turn the 
 whole to a profitable account. We need not say to 
 the considerate reader, that this view of his situa- 
 tion opens to him another field for the specific ex- 
 erdses of Christian solitude — a field which is spa- 
 cious and inviting, and which cannot fail, if gleaned 
 to purpose, to enrich him with spiritual wisdom. 
 But neither need we say to him, that this same so- 
 litude is the exclusive scene where the fruits of this 
 field can be converted to practical uses. He knows 
 it is not amidst the toils of the day, and the hum 
 of the busy throng, but in the calm of the evening, 
 that the husbandman reviews his procedure, and de- 
 tects its errors or oversights, and digests for use the 
 results of his experience, and thus becomes wise 
 and skilful in rendering the earth productive ; and 
 he feels, in analogy with this, that the man who is 
 charged with the culture of a heart, amidst the din 
 and commotion of social life, must also have his 
 evenings of quietness, when he looks in secret into 
 his precious trust, and ascertains its real condition, 
 and trains it to make a sacred use, with sorrow, or 
 with satisfaction, of its ever recurring intercourse 
 with the hearts of others around hira. 
 
 4. The Christian requires solitude to recover the 
 B2 
 
xxvm 
 
 exhaustion of social life. There is a physical ex- 
 haustion of body, or of mind, which may be easily 
 superinduced on so frail an existence as ours, in the 
 present state of things. At present, however, we 
 refer to a kind of it which is moral, and spiritual; 
 and while it is not only true, but ought to be dis- 
 tinctly maintained, that the prosecution of Christian 
 duty, amidst the enjoyment of its special privileges, 
 does not exhaust, but greatly invigorate the ener- 
 gies of the soul in a moral or spiritual point of 
 view — since " the way of the Lord is strength to the 
 upright" — yet in so mixed a state of things as ours, 
 both within the Christian, and around him, he is 
 often conscious of an exhaustion, spiritual as well as 
 physical, from intercourse with promiscuous society ; 
 for which it is indispensable that relief be at inter- 
 vals procured. Like other beings, he has his ele- 
 ment, out of which entirely he cannot live at all, and 
 even i7i which, his spirits languish in proportion as 
 it is mixed or vitiated. If the circle in which he 
 moves be neutral as to piety, but rational and intel- 
 lectual, and exactly to his mind in every thing else, 
 he is apt to be snared, by its attractions, into moods 
 of mind, or trains of thinking, or even habits and 
 inclinations, which are utterly at variance with the 
 dictates of his better judgment. If it be merely 
 frivolous, but engaging in its way, and suited to his 
 taste in matters of relaxation, he is in danger of be- 
 ing caught into the whirl of its frivolity, till his mind 
 is relaxed and dissipated, and the tone of its piety wo- 
 fully subdued. Or if it be absolutely ungodly— -for 
 in such society even a Christian must sometimes take 
 his place — he is apt to be fretted and vexed, if not 
 
XXIX 
 
 infected by its contagion, his feelings lacerated, his 
 patience worn out, and his whole soul most grie- 
 vously discomposed for the subsequent exercises of 
 religion. These things, and others like them — for we 
 cannot do more than glance at the topic — may assail 
 the Christian in succession, or in formidable com- 
 bination, resisting his efforts, and quenching his holy 
 aspirings, till, in the struggle against their influence, 
 his strength is wasted, and the things which remain 
 within him are ready to die. These hindrances we 
 know, are not the produce of mere speculation, or 
 the fantastic vexations of an enthusiasm which would 
 overdrive the business of religion, they are realities 
 experienced, and deplored, in one degree or other, 
 by every one who knows what it is to be a Christian, 
 and has set himself in good earnest to exemplify the 
 spirit of the gospel. 
 
 To be kept entirely from the scenes, where such 
 influences are put forth, is not desirable, and, gener- 
 ally speaking, it is not possible. This would be to 
 go out of the world, and live a life of absolute seclu- 
 sion — to lose the good to be got in society, for the 
 sake of avoiding its evil — a plain contravention of 
 the fixed arrangements of a gracious providence. 
 But still it is most desirable, that this evil be coun- 
 teracted, and we know not of any counteraction, so ap- 
 posite, or so congenial, to the heart of a weary Chris- 
 tian, as retiring into solitude, and recruiting himself 
 there in fellowship with his God. He may please 
 himself, for a time, with other expedients, as a substi- 
 tute for this, but will find them in the end, to be utterly 
 unavailing. He may pass from a circle which is 
 less spiritual, to one which is more so, and he may 
 
XXX 
 
 find benefit from the change; but still he is mixing 
 with creatures like himself, where the evil comes out 
 upon him, as well as the good. Or he may lay 
 himself under restraints, and endeavour to muster 
 efforts of vigilance or discrimination; but restraints 
 and efforts are things of nought, unless they be 
 grounded on Christian principles, wrought into the 
 understanding, and progressively matured in the 
 heart; and to arrive at this, there must be occasions 
 eagerly sought for, and sacredly improved, when he 
 turns his back upon the creature, and goes into so- 
 lemn conference, not in company with other Chris- 
 tians, but absolutely alone, with the God of his salva- 
 tion. For the man, in short, who is often exhausted 
 by breathing the arid and dusty atmosphere of this 
 world's society, there is but one resource — a corres- 
 ponding frequency of retirement to the green pas- 
 tures and still waters of spiritual invigoration, which 
 await him in Christian solitude. Estranged from 
 these, his soul must cleave to the dust, under the 
 unbearable oppression of languor and debility; but re- 
 freshed by the pure and celestial inhalations which 
 this retreat affords him, his soul will come to itself, 
 and be fitted for returning to intercourse with man, 
 when duty or necessity requires it, with safety to 
 himself, and advantage to his fellows. 
 
 5. He requires it to gratify his desire for specific 
 Christian enjoyment. Christianity, even in this 
 world, is not an administration of discipline alone, but 
 also a source of enjoyment, the sweetest and most 
 sublime of which humanity is susceptible in the pre- 
 sent state of being. It contains a system of disci- 
 
XXXI 
 
 pline, suited to the condition in which it finds its ob- 
 jects, but this discipline is enjoined for the sake of 
 the enjoyment, and as the former prospers the latter 
 is increased. But this enjoyment, in its finest 
 forms, consists not in the mere restoration of a capa- 
 city for the sound and salutary use of the good 
 things of this life — although this also we owe to the 
 gospel — it is quite specific in its character, arising 
 from the direct disclosures of Christianity itself, 
 embraced and appreciated in the charm of its in- 
 trinsic excellence; and in this form its delights are 
 ever the purest, as well as the richest and most feli- 
 citating in the experience of the spiritual participant. 
 " We joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 by whom we have received the reconciliation." 
 
 Nay, more than this, Christianity, in its distinctive 
 form, as a revelation from God to man, is most em- 
 phatically a religion of love. The sum of its an- 
 nouncements is, that " God so loved the world, as 
 to give his only begotten Son, that whosoever be- 
 lieveth in him might not perish, but have everlasting 
 life;" and for this very reason, it ministers to happi- 
 ness, for love is the basis of enjoyment. Where 
 love is not in any department of the moral universe, 
 life is insipid; and, in proportion as its opposite pre- 
 vails, the creature verges to the extreme of misery. 
 But, to whatever extent Christianity is conspicuous 
 for love, in the spirit of its administration as coming 
 from God, to the very same extent must it tend to 
 generate love, and thereby propagate enjoyment, in 
 its practical operations in the hearts of its subjects. 
 That this is its tendency, every one of its genuine 
 subjects, from the least to the greatest, who has 
 
xxxu 
 
 cleared his way to a knowledge of his true character, 
 has the witness in himself. He is convinced, by 
 experience, that just as certainly as he has a human 
 existence, with capacities of human enjoyment, and 
 irrepressible cravings after it, he has a spiritual 
 existence distinct from the former, but created with- 
 in it, and impelling him, by its distinct aspirings, to 
 seek for enjoyments vyhich correspond with its spirit- 
 ual nature. So inseparable, indeed, are these latter 
 aspirings, from the very infancy of the new creation, 
 that they often actuate the man who knows not in 
 what they originate, and is far from regarding them 
 as the indications of a spirit forming for immortality* 
 
 Our religion, then, is essentially a religion of en- 
 joyment; the effect of its operation in the hearts of 
 men, is to restore capacities, and awaken desires, 
 which are congenial with its celestial nature; and it 
 is the characteristic of the Christian in all stages of 
 his being — a characteristic which may often be 
 marred, but never destroyed — to seek after the grati- 
 fication of these desires. Not only does he pant for 
 enjoyment, like every thing sentient beneath the sun> 
 but he follows out the analogy still farther, and 
 pants for that species of enjoyment as exclusively his 
 own, which, emanating from the gospel of the grace 
 of God, accords with his peculiar propensities. 
 
 Now we say, that this love of enjoyment, is an- 
 other powerful inducement for cultivating habits of 
 solitude. The joys of salvation, it is very true, are 
 not confined to scenes of seclusion, but may flow in 
 upon the soul in refreshing abundance, amidst great 
 variety of outward circumstances. They may spring 
 up most delightfully in the assemblies of the saints^ 
 
XXXIU 
 
 or in the privacy of social piety, or in the career of 
 righteous effort, against the fierceness and obstinate 
 contendings of a widely prevalent impiety; although, 
 even in these instances, we believe they are seldom 
 very copious, except with the man whose heart is 
 seasoned for them, and warmed with the love of 
 them in the secrecy of his closet. We may admire 
 the friend whom we greatly esteem, and feel our- 
 selves greatly honoured, when we meet him in com- 
 pany with others, and are permitted to share in the 
 general delight which his wisdom or goodness may 
 diffuse around him; but the privilege is unspeakably 
 higher, when admitted into his presence alone, to 
 experience the intimacies of his friendship, and be- 
 hold the opening interior of his character, and con- 
 fide to him our deepest secrets, without suspicion or 
 reserve. 
 
 This is privilege, carried to its summit in the in- 
 tercourse of man with man, but the principle applies 
 with augmented force to the Christian's intercourse 
 with his God. His heart may be very happy, while 
 it mingles itself with kindred hearts in the presence 
 of the Lord, But it is amidst the musings of a 
 pious secrecy mth the Lord, when conscious of no 
 restraint, even from the presence of fellow Chris- 
 tians, and caught away in happy seclusion from 
 terrestrial concerns, that the Christian enjoys the 
 fulness of his liberty, and soars into the altitudes of 
 delight. It is in this particular state of mind, more 
 effectually than in any other, that he gets above the 
 mists and shadows which becloud the glories of spirit- 
 ual things, and diminish their power to captivate or 
 awe — it is here that his eye-sight is cleared and 
 B3 
 
XXXIV 
 
 strengthened for a steady and boundless survey of 
 the wonders of the Godhead manifest in flesh — it is 
 here that the business of this world, in its cares and 
 crosses, or treacherous enticements, falls off from him, 
 like the mantle of the ascending prophet, and is 
 quite forgotten while he worships afar — it is here 
 that the weightier woes of life, moral as well as se- 
 cular, are surmounted or mitigated, deprived of their 
 power to oppress, and converted into the means of 
 mellowing and extending the emotions of spiritual 
 delight — it is here that the remembrances of past 
 experience, with manifold sins and forgivenesses, are 
 freshened and renewed, exalting the Creator, but 
 abasing the creature, and teaching him to sing, in 
 sweetest melody, of mercies mingled with judgments 
 — and it is here too, as in his presence-chamber, 
 with the special favourite of his love, that the Spirit 
 of the living God surpasses his ordinary condescen- 
 sion, displaying the tenderness of his compassion, 
 and the exceeding riches of his grace, with a clear- 
 ness, and force, and glowing interest, which fill the 
 soul with hallowed rapture, and lift it into the su- 
 blimities of adoration and praise. 
 
 Such are some of the joys, which the man ad- 
 dicted to Christian solitude, in the spiritual sense of 
 the language, may hope to realize; and if the reader 
 appreciates their excellence, if he judges them 
 vi'orthy of his most ardent pursuit, let him frequent 
 the scene, and cultivate the frame of spirit in which 
 he is most likely to be blessed with their visitations. 
 We know there are minds so coarse and ungodly as 
 to deride them all as the dreams of fanaticism; and 
 we know also, that a dreaming fanaticism may mix 
 
XXXV 
 
 itself with them, or seek a transient shelter under 
 their venerated umbrage, but the joys themselves are 
 solid and rational, accordant vAth the genius of 
 Christianity, supported by the spirit of its doctrines, 
 promised and exemplified in its sacred record, and 
 attested to every age as matter of undoubted ex- 
 perience, by men of the soundest understandings. 
 The beauties of colour, or natural scenery, remain 
 the same, although the blind or dim- sighted cannot 
 admire them. So do the joys of religion; and to 
 discard as visionary, those sentiments or emotions 
 which, from obvious moral deficiency, we are inca- 
 pable of discerning, is to exemplify the workings of 
 a most outrageous frenzy. 
 
 These five considerations then, are submitted to 
 the reader, as a specimen of the advantages to be 
 derived from solitude with his God. And oh ! let 
 him subject them to serious review, for if it be the 
 case that this species of exercise, when rightly con- 
 ducted, has indeed a powerful tendency to secure to 
 him that natural independence of mind, which belongs 
 to him as an individual, and for which he is neces- 
 sarily held responsible; that it fits him for the proper 
 management of the moral elements, among which he 
 moves; that it aids him most effectively in ascertain- 
 ing the state of his heart; that it yields him often a 
 most grateful relief, from the spiritual exhaustion of 
 social life; and that it opens to him springs of 
 specific enjoyment, which without it are but sparingly 
 attained — if it thus goes to clear and consolidate 
 his character, and give him nerve and decision in 
 the Christian life, then surely it must assume an 
 
XXXVl 
 
 importance in his eye, which will easily induce himp 
 to sacrifice not a little for the sake of giving it its 
 due. Let him weigh it well, in its claims upon his 
 notice; let him allow it to stand out before him, in 
 its real magnitude and paramount importance; and 
 it ii:ill find its share in the regular distribution of 
 his time: for the want of time, so loudly deplored 
 in almost all departments of human activity, is not 
 absolute, but relative, arising not from an actual 
 scarcity in that precious commodity, but from the 
 want of due economy in the selection of its employ- 
 ment. Let him yield so far to the plainest dictates 
 of common sens&, and general experience, and en- 
 lightened self-love, as to give to that which is first 
 in importance, the primary place in his plan of opera- 
 tion, and then will he find, that business or recrea- 
 tion, or whatsoever else there be, which interferes 
 with his wishes and convictions, will give way, in 
 respectful deference, to the claims of a higher duty 
 to himself and his God. 
 
 The greatest obstruction, perhaps, to the practical 
 adoption of this maxim, even among those who are 
 seriously disposed, is a hankering after the idea, that 
 a man may be a very good Christian, although greatly 
 deficient in the exercises of the closet; especially 
 when his situation is such as to render it very dif- 
 ficult, if not entirely impossible, to pay them suf- 
 ficient attention. Now, it is cheerfully granted, 
 that peculiarity of situation ought, in all reason, to 
 modify the point for which we plead; and, by conse- 
 quence, that the guilt of one man in neglecting the 
 duties of solitude, may be far more heinous than 
 that of another, although the instances of neglect i\^ 
 
XXXVll 
 
 both cases are nearly the same as to number. It is 
 granted moreover, that some men, who are scarcely 
 ever in soHtude, except in the slumbers of the 
 night, and these slumbers, it may be, of brief dura- 
 tion — do yet exhibit the decided symptoms of a pros- 
 perous growth in grace. But these men are few, and 
 it is dangerous in the extreme to reduce their ex- 
 ample to a general rule. They are anomalies in the 
 world of piety and business, and the man who 
 possesses not their tact, should never commit himself 
 to their hazards. For let their secret be souo-ht 
 
 o 
 
 out, and we believe it will be found, that almost 
 every one of them has acquired the happy art, of 
 being alone in company; giving his hands, or hi& 
 lips, to intercourse with man, while his heart is en- 
 gaged in converse with God, or snatching his 
 moments for spiritual soliloquy, from the transient 
 intervals of secular business. But such instances 
 as these, so far from palliating the neglect cf the 
 duty, present the strongest enforcement of its indis- 
 pensable necessity. They show us, that the man 
 who is much involved in the business of this world, 
 must either make uncommon efforts to maintain his 
 spiritual well-being, and train himself to habitudes 
 which few are able to acquire, or sacrifice his eternal 
 interests at the shrine of temporal advantage. They 
 establish it, in short, beyond all contradiction, that 
 the Christian, howsoever situated, having business of 
 his own to transact, must withdraw himself from 
 other business, in order to transact it; and that the 
 man who fails to do this for any consideration what- 
 ever, is guilty of foregoing, so far as he fails, the 
 character and prospects of a follower of Jesus Christ. 
 
XXXVIU 
 
 But, since the Christian must have solitude, he 
 must also have something to aid him in rendering 
 that solitude spiritually productive, and the best of 
 all assistances, in such a work as this, is the close 
 and cherished companionship of his Bible itself. 
 It is there that he finds the subtilties of human de- 
 pravity detected and laid open with unerring skill; 
 it is there that he finds his religion propounded in 
 its doctrines, ar.d exemplified in its pure spirit, with 
 a power, and authority, and persuasiveness of grace, 
 which cannot be given to them any where else; and 
 it is there of course, that he talks with his God, in 
 a style of conference, the purest, and most exalting 
 that can ever be arrived at, beneath the sun. By 
 coming directly to the Bible, he brings himself at 
 once to the ultimate test, in all matters of difficulty; 
 and drinks the refreshment of grace and truth, as 
 it emanates pure from the fountain; and experiences 
 the sweetest solacements, to sooth his sorrows, and 
 cheer him onwards, through all the stages of his 
 present pilgrimage. 
 
 In full consistency with this, however, and just 
 because it is true, it is matter of general experience, 
 that, in order to gain the full advantage of being 
 regularly closeted with his Bible, the Christian 
 must be indebted to those who have studied it 
 before him. He needs their admonitions, to re- 
 mind him of the duty, and urge him to perform 
 it; he needs the fruit of their labours, to elicit the 
 spirit of his Bible, and render its suggestions easily 
 accessible, or adapt them to the state of his mind; 
 he needs their example, to show him their manner 
 of conducting their meditations, and induce him to 
 
XXXIX 
 
 copy after it; be needs the tuition of their knowledge 
 and experience, to correct his mistakes, and guide hira 
 to sound and solid results; and he needs to see speci- 
 mens of their success, to beget in him love to exer- 
 cises which are found so very consoling, and fraught 
 with so many enriching rewards, to all who conduct 
 them ariMit. To be conversant with the writings of 
 men, however great or holy, at the expense of neglect- 
 ing the oracles of God, is to throw a grievous obstruc- 
 tion in the way of religious prosperity; and when 
 this is, in any case, the tendency of his conduct, the 
 Christian has cause for alarm. But when he keeps 
 these writings in their proper place, and makes a 
 judicious choice of them, and submits his conscience 
 to their reasonings, and imbibes the spirit which 
 they breathe, their tendency is just the reverse of 
 this, they carry him to his Bible, and not ai<oay from 
 it; they unlock its precious treasures; they teach 
 him to admire its teeming disclosures; they are the 
 best means for opening his eyes to behold the won- 
 ders which it contains. 
 
 Now, we have no hesitation in setting forth this 
 little Volume, as one of the most available of these 
 means. It is an excellent vade mecum for the Christian 
 to take with him into the sequestration of a pious soli- 
 tude. He cannot make it his friend, without going 
 deep into the knowledge of himself, and rising in- 
 sensibly into fellowship with heaven. It flows in 
 upon his soul in four separate streams. But al- 
 though separate, these streams are congenial. Their 
 general nature is the same. They issue from the 
 same source — the revelation of mercy to man ; and 
 
xl 
 
 they converge to the same point — the eternal well- 
 being of human kind. While each of them glides 
 in its own channel, and interferes not with the course 
 of the others, it carries along with it its own portion 
 of pure salubrious efficacy from the fountain of saving 
 grace. From each of them apart, the pensive 
 Christian may imbibe an influence which is deeply 
 spiritual, and powerfully exciting; and, from the 
 diligent use of the whole combined, he may gather 
 up " doctrine, or reproof, or correction, or instruc- 
 tion in righteousness," to an extent, and with an ap- 
 propriate diversity, which is rarely to be met vvith in 
 so short a compass. 
 
 The reader who has but little experience in spe- 
 cific Christian exercise, we would earnestly request 
 to peruse this volume, in the order in i^hich it is set 
 before him. But let the perusal be calm and wake- 
 ful, admitting of no haste, and disturbed by no in- 
 trusion which he feels to be incompatible with dis- 
 tinctness of view, and closeness of application, as he 
 passes along. 
 
 In its first Treatise, by Richard Baxter, the 
 most forcible and fervid of Puritan writers, you 
 have the " Duty and Privilege of Walking vvith 
 God," not only sketched in its general outline, but 
 powerfully delineated in its nature and spirit, its la- 
 titude and diversity, its manifold utilities and indis- 
 pensable obligation. Nor is the delineation merely 
 contemplative, but, in a practical point of view, con- 
 troversial and searching. It goes directly to the 
 conscience, detecting its sophistries and delusions, 
 showing it its errors and evasions, evincing the claims 
 
xli 
 
 of God upon man, and disclosing man to himself, 
 with a warmth of eloquence, and cogency of holy 
 argument, which depravity may resist, hut reasoning 
 can never refute. 
 
 In its second Treatise, by Baxter also, under the 
 title, " Converse with God in Solitude," you see the 
 passive virtues of the Christian life brought out into 
 view; the scenes of diversified sorrow, which ought 
 to bring these virtues into operation, impressively 
 sketched, and satisfactorily accounted for; and a most 
 instructive description of what it really is to have the 
 gracious presence of God amidst the sorrows of life, 
 with the considerations which render it desirable, 
 and the means of attaining its consolations, or pro- 
 moting its increase and perpetuity, clearly stated, 
 and most forcibly recommended. And here, de- 
 jected Christian reader, you meet with nothing that 
 is laboured or lengthy, but brief and pointed para- 
 graphs, indited in the tenderness of Christian sym- 
 pathy, and fitted, often by a single touch, to break 
 the spell of your oppressive sorrow, and introduce 
 you to holy tranquillity. 
 
 In its third Treatise, from the pen of Corbet, 
 whose eulogy has been written with the highest 
 applause, you have the exercise of dealing with 
 yourself in secret, and the workings of piety in af- 
 fliction, exemplified after a manner which is invit- 
 ingly brief, yet clear, and full, and faithful, and fol- 
 lowed up by a series of hints or admonitions, so sound 
 in themselves, and so admirably adapted to the oc- 
 currences of hfe, that the Christian who imbibes 
 their spirit, and reduces them to daily practice, will 
 find his industry most richly rewarded. 
 
xlii 
 
 In its last Treatise — whose author we cannot 
 name, but which has been renewed and enlarged by 
 the late Mr. Brown of Haddington, to whom Scotland 
 owes much — we see the Christian in his native 
 element, conscious of guilt, and distance, and de- 
 bility, but awake to the interest of the spiritual 
 world, engrossed with the forethought of its sublime 
 enjoyments, and tending towards it as he may, on 
 the lifted wing of evangelical aspiration. It has 
 got the name of " Devout Breathings," and this 
 designation is so graphic and complete, that we pre- 
 sume not to characterize it in any other terms. We 
 know not of any thing human which is better fitted 
 to guide, or enrich, or stimulate devotion in the 
 heart of a languishing Christian. If you grant it a 
 fair perusal, copying its Author's example while you 
 gather up his sentiments, it will humble and yet 
 exalt you; fill you with shame and contrition, and 
 yet entice your affections out into adoration, like 
 the chariots of a willing people. 
 
 Such is a mere outline of the Volume, it will speak 
 more largely for itself; but we cannot conceal the 
 rising presentiment, after surveying the whole, that 
 these four precious memorials of the piety of other 
 times, thus put together in one convenient portable 
 volume, will be hailed by British Christians as a 
 very valuable acquisition. Let them be sought 
 after, however, not for ornament, but for use; not 
 for the shelf, but for the closet and the heart; not 
 for their connection with the times that are gone, 
 but for their present worth. And let each of the 
 excellent Authors have fruit from you in his own 
 department. 
 
xliii 
 
 There is one class of Christians with whom this 
 Volume is sure to be high in esteem, and who can 
 scarcely fail to peruse it, without a large accession of 
 spiritual advantage. We mean the people who 
 dwell alone, not from choice but necessity; who 
 have been driven out of society by the wreck of 
 their fortunes, or the infamous abuse of their repu- 
 tation — or who have lived on amidst multiplying 
 changes, till they have grown into solitude by the 
 very coarse of nature, and find themselves in a 
 world, which, although teeming with life, and warm 
 with interest as that in which they started, is deso- 
 late to them, because time has altered its aspect, and 
 death has taken out of it the friends of their youth — 
 or, which is yet a more common case, who have 
 been chastised into a weariness of the world, by 
 bodily affliction, or the conduct of profligate relatives, 
 or the heart-breaking sorrows of domestic bereave- 
 ments, or, in some cases, it may be the pressure of all 
 combined. These are a people who need a com- 
 panion to abide with them in their dwellings, and 
 mingle in quiet with thefr meditations, and avert 
 their thoughts from fruitless anxieties, to that which 
 is soothing and healthful. Many and varied are 
 their sources of disquietude, bitter and pungent 
 their secret sorrows, and powerfully affecting are 
 their claims on the succours of Christian sympathy. 
 We offer them this volume as a friend who loveth 
 at all times, but a brother horn for adversity; and 
 we dare venture to say of it, in special reference to 
 their case, that, although it cannot bring back the 
 days that are gone, nor restore to their bosoms the 
 terrestrial endearments which the course of provi- 
 
xliv 
 
 dence has swept away, yet, by opening their hearts 
 to a familiarity with its pages, and adopting it for 
 their spiritual intimate, and gradually giving way to 
 its upward attractions, it will distance, and thus 
 diminish the ills of life, and gild, if not disperse the 
 gloom which sits around them; and bring them to 
 confess, with a great and tried Apostle, to the 
 honour of God and their own unspeakable consola- 
 tion, that " our light affliction, which is but for a 
 moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the 
 thinffs which are seen, but at the thincps which are 
 not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, 
 but the things which are not seen are eternal." 
 
 D. Y. 
 
 Perth, October^ 1827„ 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Pa^e 
 
 WALKING WITH GOD THE CHRISTIAN'S DUTY 
 
 V' 
 AND PRIVILEGE— By the Rev. Richard Baxter, 47 
 
 CONVERSE WITH' GOD IN SOLITUDE— By the 
 Rev. Richard Baxter, 239 
 
 SELF-EMPLOYMENT IN SECRET— By the Rev. 
 / John Corbet, 317 
 
 DEVOUT BREATHINGS OF A PIOUS SOUL, 363 
 
WALKING WITH GOD 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS 
 DUTY AND PRIVILEGE. 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD BAXTER. 
 

 ^y-. TO THJ^-tr ^ ^^^^ 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE AND EXEMPLARY 
 
 LADY ANNE, 
 
 COUNTESS OF BALCARRES. 
 
 Madam, 
 In the hope of pardon of my delay, I now present 
 you with the treatise whicli, at your desire, I 
 preached at your departure hence. I knew of many 
 and great afflictions which you had undergone in the 
 removal of your dearest friends, which made this 
 subject seem so suitable and seasonable to you at 
 that time: but I knew not that God was about to 
 make so great an addition to your trials in the same 
 kind, by taking to himself the principal branch of 
 your noble family (by a rare disease, the emblem of 
 the mortal malady now reigning).* I hope this loss 
 also shall promote your gain, by keeping you near- 
 er to your heavenly Lord, who is jealous of your 
 affections, and resolved to have them entirely to him- 
 self: and then you will still find, that you are not 
 alone, nor deprived of your dearest or most necessary 
 friend, while the Father, the Son, the sanctifying 
 and comforting Spirit is with you. And it should 
 
 * Charles, Earl of Balcarres, who died of a stone in his heart 
 of a very great magnitude. 
 
 C 35 
 
50 
 
 not be hard to reconcile us to the disposals of so 
 sure a Friend. Nothing but good can come from 
 God: however the blind may miscall it, who know 
 no good or evil, but what is measured by the private 
 standard of their selfish interest, and that as judged 
 of by sense. Eternal love engaged by covenant to 
 make us happy, will do nothing but what we shall 
 find at last will terminate in that blessed end. He 
 envied you not your son, as too good for you, or too 
 great a mercy, who hath given you his own Son, and 
 with him the mercy of eternal Hfe. Corporal suffer- 
 ings with spiritual blessings are the ordinary lot of 
 believers here on earth: as corporal prosperity with 
 spiritual calamity is the lot of the ungodly. And I 
 beseech you consider, that God knoweth better than 
 you or I, what an ocean your son was ready to launch 
 out into, and how tempestuous and terrible it might 
 have proved, and whether the world that he is saved 
 from, would have afforded him more of safety or 
 seduction, of comfort or calamity? Whether the 
 protraction of the life of your noble husband, to have 
 seen our sins and their effects and consequents, would 
 have afforded him greater joy or sorrow? Un- 
 doubtedly as God had a better title to your husband, 
 and children, and friends, than you had, so it is 
 much better to be vvith him, than to be with you, or 
 with tlie best or greatest upon earth. The heavenly 
 inhabitants fear not our fears, and feel not our afflic- 
 tions. They are past our dangers, and out of the 
 reach of all our enemies, and delivered from our 
 pains and cares, and have the full possession of all 
 those mercies which we pray and labour for. Ca n 
 you think your children and friends that are wit h 
 
51 
 
 Christ, are not safer and better than those that yet 
 remain with you? Do you think that earth is better 
 than heaven for yourself? I take it for granted 
 you cannot think so, and will not say so: and if it 
 be worse for you, it is worse for them. The pro- 
 vidence which, by hastening their glorification, doth 
 promote your sanctification; which helpeth them to 
 the end, and helpeth you in the way, must needs be 
 good to them and you, however it appear to flesh 
 and unbelief. O madam, when our Lord hath 
 showed us (as he will shortly do) what a state it is 
 to which he bringeth the spirits of the just, and how 
 he doth there entertain and use them, we shall then 
 be more competent judges of all those acts of Provi- 
 dence to which we are now so hardly reconciled ! 
 Then we shall censure our censurings of these vvorks 
 of God, and be offended Vith our offences at them, 
 and call ourselves blind, unthankful sinners, for call- 
 ing them so bad as we did in our misjudging unbe- 
 lief and passions. We shall not wish ourselves or 
 friends again on earth, among temptations and pains, 
 and among uncharitable men, malicious enemies, 
 deceitful flatterers, and untrusty friends! When 
 we see that face which we long to see, and know the 
 things which we long to feel, and are full of the joys 
 which now we can scarce attain a taste of, and have 
 reached the end which now we seek, and for which 
 we suffer, we shall no more take it for a judgment 
 to be taken from ungodly men, and from a world of 
 sin, and fear, and sorrow; nor shall we envy the 
 wicked, nor ever desire to be partakers of their 
 pleasures. Till then, let us congratulate our de. 
 parted friends the felicity which they have attained 
 C 2 
 
52 
 
 and which we desire; and let us rejoice with them 
 that rejoice with Christ, and let us prefer the least 
 believing thought of the everlasting joys, before all 
 the defiled transitory pleasures of the deluded, 
 dreaming, miserable world. And let us prefer such 
 converse as we can here attain, with God in Christ, 
 and with the heavenly society, before all the pomp 
 and friendship of the world. We have no friend 
 that is so able to supply all our wants, so sufficient 
 to content us, so ready to relieve us, so willing to 
 entertain us, so unwearied in hearing us, and con- 
 versincr with us, as our blessed Lord. This is a 
 Friend that will never prove untrusty; nor be 
 changed by any change of interest, opinion, or for- 
 tune; nor give us cause to suspect his love: a Friend 
 that we are sure will not forsake us, nor turn our 
 enemy, nor abuse us for' his own advantage, nor 
 will ever die or be separated from us, but we shall 
 be always with him, and see his glory, and be filled 
 and transported with his love, and sing his praise to 
 all eternity. With whom then should we so de- 
 lightfully converse on earth? And till we can reach 
 that sweet, delightful converse, whom should we 
 seek with more ambition, or observe with greater 
 devotedness and respect? O that we were less 
 carnal and more spiritual, and lived less by sense, 
 and more by faith; that we knew better the differ- 
 ence between God and man, between visible tem- 
 porals, and invisible eternals ! We should then 
 have other thoughts and desires, and resolutions, 
 and converse, and employments, and pleasures, than 
 too many have ! 
 
 Madam, it displeaseth me that it is no more ela- 
 
5S 
 
 borate a Treatise, to which the present opportunity 
 inviteth me to prefix your name: but pardon the 
 manner, and I dare commend the matter to you, as 
 more worthy your serious contemplation, and your 
 daily most delightful practice, than any other that 
 was ever proposed to mortal man. This is the man- 
 like noble life; the life which the rational soul was 
 made for: to which, if our faculties be not by sanc- 
 tifying grace restored, they fall below their proper 
 dignity and use, and are worse than lost, like a 
 prince or learned man that is employed only in sweep- 
 ing dog-kennels, or tending swine. To walk in 
 holiness with the most holy God, is the improve- 
 ment and advancement of the nature of man, towards 
 its designed equality with angels. When earthli- 
 ness and sensuality degrade humanity into (a volun- 
 tary, and therefore sinful) brutishness; this is the 
 life which affordeth the soul a solid and durable 
 pleasure and content: when carnal minds evaporate 
 into air, and bubble into froth and vanity, wasted in 
 a dream, and the violent, busy pursuit of a shadow: 
 deceiving themselves with a mixture of some coun- 
 terfeit religion; playing with God, and working for 
 the world; living in jest, and dying, and despairing, 
 and sufiPering in earnest; with unwearied labour 
 building on the sand, and sinking at death for want 
 of a foundation; hating the serious practice of their 
 own professed religion, because it is not the protes- 
 sion, but the serious practice which hath the greatest 
 enmity to their sensual delights; yet wishing to be 
 numbered with those hereafter, whom they hated 
 here. This holy walking with the Most Holy God, 
 is the only life which is best at last, and sweet in 
 
54, 
 
 the review; which the godly live in, and most of the 
 ungodly could wish to die in; like him that wished 
 to be Csesar in life, and Socrates at death. Yea, 
 this is the life which hath no end; which we are here 
 but learning, and beginning to practise, and which 
 we must hereafter live (in another manner and de- 
 gree) with God for ever. O wondrous mercy! 
 which thus ennobleth even the state of mortality ! 
 and honoureth earth with so much participation of, 
 and communion with Heaven ! That by God, aud 
 with God, we may walk in holy peace and safety 
 unto God, and there be blessed in his perfect sight 
 and love for ever! Madam, the greatest service I 
 can do you for all your favours, is to pray that God 
 will more acquaiitt you with himself, and lead you 
 by this blessed way to that more blessed end; that 
 when you see all worldly glory in the dust, you may 
 bless him for ever, who taught you to make a wiser 
 choice: which are the prayers of. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 Your very much obliged Servant, 
 
 RICHARD BAXTER. 
 
 December 24, 1662. 
 
WALKING WITH GOD. 
 
 Genesis v. 24. 
 
 AND ENOCH WALKED WITH GOD, AND HE WAS NOT: 
 FOR GOD TOOK HIM. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 What it is to "imlk "ccith God. 
 
 Being to speak of our converse with God in solitude, 
 I think it will not be unsuitable nor unserviceable 
 to the ends of that discourse, if I here premise a 
 short description of the general duty of practical 
 godliness, as it is called in Scripture ' a walking 
 with God.' It is here commended to us in the 
 example of holy Enoch, whose excellency is recorded 
 in this signal character, that "he walked with God;" 
 and his special reward expressed in the words follow- 
 ing, " and he was not, for God took him." I shall 
 speak most of his character, and then somewhat of 
 his reward. 
 
 The Samaritan and vulgar Latin versions strictly 
 translate the Hebrew as we read it; but the inter- 
 
56 
 
 pretation of the Septuagint, the Syriac, the Chaldee, 
 and the Arabic, are rather good expositions (all set 
 together) of the meaning of the word, than strict 
 translations. The Septuagint and Syriac read it, 
 * Enoch pleased God.' The Chaldee hath, * Enoch 
 walked in the fear of God.' And the Arabic, ' he 
 walked in obedience to God.' And indeed, to walk 
 in the fear and obedience of God, and thereby to 
 please him, is the principal thing in our " walking 
 with God." The same character is given of Noah, 
 in Gen. vi. 19. and the extraordinary reward an- 
 nexed; he and his family were saved in the deluge. 
 And the holy life which God commanded Abraham, 
 is called ' a walking before God.' " Walk before 
 me, and be thou perfect." and in the New Testa- 
 ment the Christian conversation is ordinarily called 
 by the name of Walking. Sometimes a * walking 
 in Christ.' Sometimes a ' walking in the Spirit, in 
 which we live.' And a ' walking after the Spirit.' 
 Sometimes a ' walking in the liglit, as God is in the 
 light.' Those that ' abide in Christ, must so walk 
 even as he hath walked.' These phrases set to- 
 gether, tell us what it is to walk with God. But 
 I think it not unprofitable somewhat more particu- 
 larly to show you what this walking with God doth 
 contain. 
 
 As atheism is the sum of wickedness, so all true 
 religiousness is called by the name of godliness, or 
 holiness, which is nothing else but our devotedness 
 to God, and living to him, and our relation to him 
 as thus devoted in heart and life. Practical atheism 
 is a " living without God in the world." Godliness 
 is contrary to practical atheism, and is a living with 
 
57 
 
 and to God in the world and in the church, and is 
 here called a walking with God. And it containeth 
 in it these particulars. 
 
 1. To walk with God includeth the practical ac- 
 knowledgment (that is made by the will as well as 
 the understanding) of the grand attributes of God, 
 and his relations to man; that he is infinite in his 
 being, that is, immense and eternal; as also in his 
 power, wisdom, and goodness: that he is the Creator, 
 Redeemer and Sanctifier: that he is our absolute 
 Lord, our most righteous Governor, and most bounti- 
 ful benefactor (or Father:) that " of him, and through 
 him, and to him, are all things:" that " in him we 
 live, and move, and have our being:" that he is the 
 fountain, or first cause, from which all (proper) being, 
 truth and goodness in the creature, is but a derived 
 stream. To have the soul unfeignedly resign itself 
 to him, as his own; and subject itself to him as our 
 Governor, walking in the awe of his sovereign power; 
 sensible of the strong obhgation of his laws, which 
 reason, justice, and necessity, do all command us to 
 obey. To live as in full dependence on him: to 
 have the first and greatest respect to him: a more 
 observant respect to him than to our rulers: a more 
 obedient respect to him than to our masters: a more 
 dependent, tender, and honourable respect to him 
 than to parents, or our nearest friends. Thus " he 
 that Cometh to God" (as God, and so as to be ac- 
 cepted of him,) " must believe that he is," (his essen- 
 tial attributes) and (what he is in his relations to 
 man, especially that as our Governor and benefactor) 
 " he is the rewarder of them that diligently seek 
 him." The impress of a Deity in his essential and 
 C3 
 
58 
 
 relative attributes must be upon the heart of hira 
 that walks with God. Yea, the being of God must 
 be much more remarkable to hira, than the being of 
 all creatures, and his presence more regarded than 
 the presence of the creature: and all things must be 
 to us in comparison of God as a candle is in com- 
 parison of the smi: his greatness and transcendent 
 excellencies must so overpower them all, as to make 
 them less observed and regarded, by his taking up 
 our chief observation and regard. 
 
 2. Our walking with God includeth our recon- 
 ciliation to him, and that we are not in our natural 
 state of enmity, but made his children and friends 
 in Christ. *' Can two walk together unless they 
 be agreed?" Enmity is against unity; disaffection 
 causeth aversion, and flying from each other: yea, 
 the fears of a guilty child may make him fly from 
 his father's presence, till there be a particular recon- 
 ciliation, besides the general state of reconciliation. 
 A provoking faulty child doth dwell with God his 
 Father, though under the continual terror of his 
 frowns; but to walk with him (in the full sense) is 
 more than to be related to him, and to dwell with 
 him. In a large sense, indeed, all God's children 
 may be said to walk with him, as it signifieth only a 
 conversation ordered in godliness, sincerity, and 
 simplicity. But in this more sublime sense, as it 
 signifieth a lively exercise of faith, and love, and 
 heavenly-mindedness, and a course of complacential 
 contemplation, and holy converse with God, so it is 
 proper only to some of the sounder and more vigilant 
 industrious believers. And hereto it is necessary, 
 not only that we be justifie<l and reconciled to God 
 
S9 
 
 from our state of enmity, but also that we be par- 
 cloned, justified, and reconciled from our particular 
 wounding falls, which are more than the ordinary 
 infirmities of believers. And also it is necessary 
 that we have grateful, friendly thoughts of God: 
 that we have so much sense of his excellency, good- 
 ness, and kindness to ourselves, as may give us a 
 complacency in conversing with him, and may make 
 the thoughts and mention of him to be desirable and 
 pleasing to us. Walking with God doth import, 
 though not the full assurance of his special love and 
 grace to us, yet such an apprehension of his love and 
 goodness, as may draw the heart to think of him with 
 desire, if not with delight. A loathness to draw 
 near him, to think of him, or to mention him, a 
 weariness of his special service, are contrary to this 
 special walking with God. 
 
 3. Our walking with God, includes our esteem- 
 ing and intending Him as the ultimate end and feli- 
 city of our souls. He is not to be sought, or loved, 
 or conversed with, as a means to any greater good, 
 (for there is no greater,) nor as inferior, or merely 
 equal to any. His goodness must be the most 
 powerful attractive of our love: his favour must be 
 valued as our happiness; and the pleasing of hitn 
 must be our most industrious employment. To 
 walk with him, is to live in the warming, reviving 
 sunshine of his goodness, and to feel a delighting, 
 satisfying virtue in his love and gracious presence. 
 To live as those that are not their own, and that 
 have their lives, and faculties, and provisions, and 
 helps for their master's service: as a horse or dog is 
 of so much worth, as he is of use to him that owneth 
 
60 
 
 him: and that is the best that is the most serviceable 
 to his master: yet with this very great difference, 
 that man being a more noble and capacious creature, 
 is admitted not only into a state of service, but of 
 sonship, and friendship, and communion with God; 
 and is allowed and appointed to share more in the 
 pleasure and fruits of his services, and to put in his 
 own felicity and delight into his end; not only be- 
 cause self-love is natural and necessary to the crea- 
 ture, but also because he is under the promise of a 
 reward; and, (more than either,) because he is a 
 lover, and not only a servant, and his work is prin- 
 cipally a vvork of love, and therefore his end is the 
 end of a lover, which is mutual complacency in the 
 exercises of love. 
 
 He that seeketh not first the kingdom and righ- 
 teousness of God, and referreth not other things to 
 him, but seeks first the creature, and God only for 
 it, doth but deny God in his heart, and basely sub- 
 ject him to the works of his own hands, and doth 
 not walk with God, but vilify and reject him. If 
 you live not to God, even to obey, and please, and 
 honour him, you do not walk with him, but walk 
 contrary to him, (by living to his enemies, the flesh, 
 the world, and the devil,) and therefore God will 
 " walk contrary to you." You were both created 
 and redeemed, though for your own felicity, yet 
 principally for the glory and pleasure of your 
 Creator and Redeemer; and for no felicity of your 
 own, but what consisteth in pleasing him, glorifying 
 him, and enjoying him: " Whether therefore we 
 eat or drink, or whatever we do, it should all be 
 done to the glory of God." He that regardeth a 
 
61 
 
 day, or regardeth it not; he that eateth, or that 
 eateth not, must do it to the Lord. And though a 
 good intention will not sanctify a forbidden action, 
 yet sins of ignorance and mere frailty are forborne 
 and pardoned of God, when it is his glory and ser- 
 vice that is sincerely intended, though there be a 
 mistake in the choice of means. " None of us 
 liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself: for 
 whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether 
 we die, we die unto the Lord. Whether we live 
 therefore or die, we are the Lord's. For to this 
 end Christ both died, rose, and revived, that he 
 might be Lord both of the dead and living." Our 
 walking with God is a serious " labouring, that 
 whether present or absent, we may be accepted of 
 him." To this the love of our Redeemer must 
 constrain us: " For he died for all, that they which 
 live, should not henceforth live unto themselves, but 
 unto him that died for them, and rose again." 
 Religion, therefore, is called the seeking of God, 
 because the soul doth press after him, and labour to 
 enjoy him, as the runner seeks to reach the prize; 
 or as a suitor seeketh the love and fruition of the 
 person beloved. And all the particular acts of reli- 
 gion are oft denominated from this intention of the 
 end, and following after it, and are all called " a 
 seeking the Lord." Conversion is called " a seek- 
 ing the Lord." " Seek ye the Lord while he may 
 be found." " The children of Israel shall return 
 and seek the Lord their God." *' They do not 
 return to the Lord their God, nor seek him." Men 
 that are called to conversion, are called to seek God. 
 " Break up your fallow ground, for it is time to 
 
seek the Lord, till he come and rain righteousness 
 upon you." The converted children of " Israel and 
 Judah shall go weeping together to seek the Lord 
 their God." The wicked are described to be men 
 that " do not seek the Lord." The holy covenant 
 was " to seek the Lord." If therefore you would 
 walk with God, let him be the mark, the prize, the 
 treasure, the happiness, the heaven itself which you 
 aim at, and sincerely seek. " Now set your heart 
 and your soul to seek the Lord your God." " Glory 
 ye in his holy name. Let the heart of them re- 
 joice that seek the Lord. Seek the Lord and his 
 strength, seek his face for evermore." As the life 
 of a covetous man is a seeking of riches, and the life 
 of an ambitious man is a seeking of worldly honour 
 and applause, so the life of a man that liveth to 
 God, is a seeking him; to please him, honour him, 
 and enjoy him: and so much of this as he attaineth, 
 so much doth he attain of satisfaction and content. 
 If you live to God, and seek him as your end and 
 all, the want of any thing will be tolerable to you, 
 which is but consistent with the fruition of his love. 
 If he be pleased, man's displeasure may be borne. 
 The loss of all things, if Christ be won, will not 
 undo us. Man's condemnation of us signifieth but 
 little, if God the absolute Judge justify us. He 
 walketh not with God, that liveth not to him as his 
 only happiness and end. 
 
 4. Moreover our walking with God includeth our 
 subjection to his authority, and our taking his wis- 
 dom and will to be our guide, and his laws in nature 
 and Scripture for our rule. You must not walk with 
 him as his equals, but as his subjects: nor give him 
 
63 
 
 the honour of an ordinary superior, but of the uni- 
 versal King. In our doubts he must resolve us; 
 and in our straits we must ask counsel of the Lord. 
 " Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do?" is one 
 of the first words of a penitent soul. When sen- 
 sual worldlings do first ask the flesh, or those that 
 can do it hurt or good, what they would have them 
 be or do, — none of Christ's true subjects do call 
 any man father or master on earth, but in subordi- 
 nation to their highest Lord. The authority of 
 God doth awe them, and govern them more than 
 the fear of the greatest upon earth. Indeed they 
 know no power but God's, and that which he com- 
 mitteth to man. And therefore they can obey no 
 man against God, whatever it cost them: but under 
 God they are most readily and faithfully subject to 
 their governors; not merely as to men that have 
 power to hurt them if they disobey, but as to the 
 officers of the Lord, whose authority they discern 
 and reverence in them. But when they have to do 
 with the enemies of Christ, who usurp a power 
 which he never gave them against his kingdom and 
 the souls of men, they think it easy to resolve the 
 question, " Whether it be better to obey God or 
 men?" As the commands of a rebellious constable, 
 or other fellow-subject, are of no authority against 
 the king's commands; so the commands of all the 
 men on earth are of so small authority with thera 
 against the laws of God, that they fully approve of 
 the ready and resolute answer of those witnesses, 
 " We are not careful to answer thee in this matter. 
 If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to de- 
 liver us, &c. But if not, be it known unto thee, 
 
64 
 
 O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship 
 the golden image which thou hast set up." World- 
 lings are ruled by their fleshly interest, and wisdom, 
 and self-will, and by the will of man so far as it doth 
 comport with these. By these you may handle 
 them and lead them up and down the world: by these 
 doth Satan hold them in captivity. But believers 
 feel themselves in subjection to a higher Lord, and 
 better law, which they faithfully, though imperfectly, 
 observe. Therefore our walking with God is called 
 a " walking in his law;" a " walking in his statutes, 
 and keeping and doing his commands;" " walking 
 in his paths." It is our '' following the Lamb, 
 which way soever he goeth." To be given up to 
 our own heart's lusts, and to walk in our counsels, 
 is contrary to this holy walk with God, and is the 
 course of those that are departed from him: and they 
 that are far from him shall perish: he destroyeth 
 those that go a whoring from him. But it is good 
 for us to draw near to God. 
 
 5. Our walking with God doth imply that as we 
 arfe ruled by his will, so we fear no punishment like 
 his threatened displeasure: and that the threats of 
 death from mortal men, will not prevail with us so 
 much as his threats of hell. If God say, ' I will 
 condemn thee to everlasting punishment if thou wilt 
 not keep my laws;' and if men say, ' We will con- 
 demn thee to imprisonment or death if thou keep 
 them,' the believer more feareth God than man. 
 The law of the king doth condemn Daniel to the 
 lions' den, if he forbear not to pray for a certain 
 time. But he more feareth God, that will deny 
 those that deny him, and forsake those that forsake 
 
65 
 
 hira. Therefore the foreraeutioned witnesses ven- 
 tured on the fiery furnace, because God threatened 
 a more dreadful fire. Therefore a true believer 
 dare not live, when an unbeliever dare not die: he 
 dare not save his life from God, lest he lose it; but 
 loseth it that he may save it. But unbelievers that 
 walk not with God, but after the flesh, do most fear 
 them that they observe most powerful in the world, 
 and will more be moved with the penalty of some 
 worldly loss or suffering, than with God's most 
 dreadful threats of hell: for that which they s^e not, 
 is to them as nothing, while they want that faith by 
 which it is foreknown, and must be escaped. 
 
 6. Moreover, he that walks with God, doth frotn 
 God expect his full reward. He ceaseth not his 
 holy course, though no man observe him, or none 
 commend hira or approve him; though all about hira 
 hate him and condemn him; though he be so far 
 from gaining by it with men, that it cost him all 
 that he hath or hoped for in the world: for he 
 knoweth that godliness is of itself great gain, and 
 that it " hath the promise of this life and that to 
 come," and none can make God's promise void. 
 He knoweth that his " Father which seeth in secret 
 will reward him openly;" and that he " shall have 
 a treasure in heaven" that parteth with all on earth 
 for Christ. And he hath such respect to this pro- 
 mised " recompence of reward," that for it he can 
 " suffer with the people of God, and account the 
 very reproach of Christ a greater treasure" than 
 court or country can afford him in a way of sin. 
 He accounteth them " blessed that are persecuted 
 for righteousness' sake, because the kingdom of 
 
66 
 
 heaven is theirs." He judgeth it a cause of ex- 
 ceeding joy, to be reviled and persecuted, and to 
 have all manner of evil falsely spoken of us for the 
 sake of Christ, because our reward in heaven is great. 
 For he verily believeth, that as sure as these transi- 
 tory pleasures will have an end, and everlastingly 
 forsake those miserable souls that were deluded by 
 them, so certainly is there a life of endless joys, to 
 be possessed in heaven with God and all the holy 
 ones; and this he will trust to as that which will 
 fully repair his losses, repay his cost, and not de- 
 ceive him. Let others trust to what they will, it 
 is this that he is resolved to trust to, and venture all 
 to make it sure (when he is sure that all is nothing 
 which he ventureth, and that by the adventure he 
 can never be a loser, nor ever save by choosing that 
 which itself must perish.) Thus he that truly walks 
 with God expecteth his reward from God, and with 
 God, and thence is encouraged in all his duty, em- 
 boldened in all his conflicts, and upheld and com- 
 forted in his sufferings, when man is the rewarder 
 (as well as the chief ruler) of the hypocrite, and 
 earthly things are the poise and motives to his 
 earthly mind. 
 
 7. Our walking with God importeth that as we 
 expect our reward from him, so also that we take his 
 promise as our security for that reward. Believing 
 his word and trusting his fidelity to the quieting and 
 emboldening of the soul, is part of our holy walking 
 with him. A promise of God is greater satisfaction 
 and encouragement to a true believer, than all the 
 visible things on earth. A promise of God can do 
 more, and prevail further with an upright soul, than 
 
67 
 
 all the sensible objects in the world. He will do 
 more, and go further upon such a promise, than he 
 will for all that man can give him. Peruse the life 
 of Christ's apostles, and see what a promise of Christ 
 can do: how it made them forsake all earthly plea- 
 sures, possessions and hopes, and part with friends, 
 and houses, and country, and travel up and down the 
 world, in dangers and sufferings, and unwearied 
 labours, despised and abused by great and small; and 
 all this to preach the Gospel of the kingdom, which 
 they had never seen, and to attain that everlasting 
 happiness, and help others to attain it, for which 
 they had nothing but the promise of their Lord. 
 See what a promise well believed will make a Chris- 
 tian do and suffer. Believers did those noble acts, 
 and the martyrs underwent those torments, which 
 are mentioned Heb. xi. because " they judged him 
 faithful that had promised." They considered not 
 difficulties, and defect of means, and improbabilities 
 as to second causes, nor " staggered at the promise 
 of God through unbelief; but being strong in faith, 
 gave glory to God; being fully persuaded, that what 
 he had promised he was also able to perform," as it 
 is said of Abraham. 
 
 8. To walk with God is to live as in his presence, 
 and that with desire and delight. When we believe 
 and apprehend that wherever we are, we are before 
 the Lord, who seeth our hearts and all our ways; 
 who knoweth every thought we think, and every 
 word we speak, and every secret thing which we do: 
 as verily to believe that God is here present and 
 observeth all, as we do that we ourselves are here. 
 To compose our minds, our thoughts, our affections 
 
68 
 
 to that holy reverence and seriousness as beseemeth 
 man before his Maker. To order our words with 
 that care and gravity as beseems those that speak in 
 the hearing of the Lord. That no man's presence 
 do seem more considerable to us than his presence: 
 as we are not moved at the presence of a fly, or 
 worm, or dog, when persons of honour and reverence 
 are present, so should we not comparatively be moved 
 at the presence of man, how great, or rich, or terrible 
 soever, when we know that God himself is present, 
 to whom the greatest of the sons of men are more 
 inconsiderable than a fly or worm is to them. As 
 the presence of the king makes ordinary standers by 
 to be unobserved, and the discourses of the learned 
 make us disregard the babblings of children; so the 
 presence of God should make the greatest to be 
 scarce observed or regarded in comparison of him. 
 God, who is still with us, should so much take up 
 our regard, that all others in his presence should be 
 but as a candle in the presence of the sun. There- 
 fore it is that a believer composeth himself to that 
 behaviour which he knoweth God doth most expect, 
 and beseemeth those that stand before him ; when 
 others accommodate themselves to the persons that 
 are present, observing them, pleasing them, and 
 showing them respect, while they take no notice of 
 God at all, as if they believed not that he is there. 
 Hence it is that the men of God were wont to speak 
 (though reverently, yet) familiarly of God, as chil- 
 dren of their father with whom they dwell, as being 
 indeed fellow-citizens with the saints, who are his 
 household. Abraham calleth him, " The Lord 
 before whom I walk." And Jacob, *' God before 
 
69' 
 
 whom ray fathers Abraham and Isaac walked." 
 And David resolveth, " I will v^alk before the Lord 
 in the land of the living." Yea God himself is 
 pleased to use the terms of gracious condescending 
 familiarity with them. " Christ dwelleth in them 
 by faith." His Spirit dwelleth in them as his house 
 and temple. Yea the Father himself is said to 
 dwell in them, and they in him, *' He that keepeth 
 his commandments dwelleth in him, and he in him." 
 " If we love one another, God dwelleth in us. 
 Hereby we know that we dwell in him, and he in 
 us, because he hath given us of his Spirit. Who- 
 ever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, 
 God dwelleth in him, and he in God. God is love, 
 and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and 
 God in hira." Yea, God is said to walk in them, 
 as they are said to walk with him; " For ye are the 
 temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will 
 dwell in them, and walk in them, and I will be their 
 God, and they shall be my people." 
 
 Our walking with God then is not only a sense 
 of that common presence which he must needs afford 
 to all; but it is also a believing apprehension of his 
 gracious presence, as our God and reconciled Father, 
 with whom we dwell, being brought near to him by 
 Christ, who dwelleth in us by his Spirit. 
 
 9. To walk with God (as here we are in the flesh) 
 includeth not only our believing his presence, but 
 also that we see him (as the chief cause in the effects) 
 in his creatures, and his daily providence, that we 
 look not on creatures as independent or separated 
 from God; but see them as the glass, and God as 
 the represented face; and see them as the letters and 
 
70 
 
 woi-ds, and God as the sense of all the creatures, 
 that are the first book which he appointed man to 
 read. We must behold his glory declared by the 
 heavens, and see him shining in the sun; and see 
 his power in the fabric of the world, and his wisdom 
 in the admirable order of the whole; we must taste 
 the sweetness of his love tn the sweetness of our 
 food, and in the comforts of our friends, and all our 
 accommodations; we must see, and love his image in 
 his holy ones; and we must hear his voice in the 
 ministry of his messengers. Thus every creature 
 must become a preacher to us, and we must see the 
 name of God upon it: And thus all things will be 
 sanctified to us, while " Holiness to the Lord" is 
 written upon all. Though we must not therefore 
 make idols of the creatures, because God appeareth 
 to us in them, vet must we hear the message which 
 they bring us, and reverence in them the name of 
 the Creator which they bear. By this way of con- 
 versing with them, they will not ensnare us, or 
 deceive, or poison us, as they do the carnal, unbe- 
 lieving world: but as the fish brought money to 
 Peter to pay his tribute, so every creature would 
 bring us a greater, even a spiritual gain. When 
 we behold it, we should say with pleasant admiration, 
 " This is the work of God, and it is wonderful in 
 our eyes." This is the true divine philosophy, 
 which seeketh, and findeth, and contemplateth, and 
 admireth the great Creator in his works: when that 
 which sticketh in the creature itself (whatever dis- 
 covery it seem to make) is but a childish, unprofitable 
 trifling: like learning to shape all the letters aright, 
 without learning to know their signification and 
 
71 
 
 sense. It is God appearing in the creatures, that 
 is the life, and beauty, and use, and excellency of 
 all the creatures; without him they are but carcasses, 
 deformed, useless, vain, insignificant, and very no- 
 things. 
 
 o 
 
 10. Our walking with God contains our willing 
 and sincere attendance on him in the use of those 
 holy duties in which he hath appointed us to expect 
 his grace. He is everywhere in his essential pre- 
 sence, but he is not everywhere alike to be found in 
 the communications of grace. The assemblies of 
 his saints that worship him in holy communion, are 
 places where he is more likely to be found than in 
 an alehouse or a playhouse. You are more likely 
 to have holy converse with him among the holy, that 
 will speak of holy things to your edification, than 
 among the senseless, ignorant sensualists, and the 
 scornful enemies of holiness, that are the servants 
 of the devil, whom he useth in his daily work for 
 the deceiving and perdition of the world. There- 
 fore the conversation of the wicked doth grieve and 
 vex the righteous soul, (as it is said the Sodomites 
 did by Lot, because all their conversation is ungodly, 
 far from God, not savouring of any true knowledge 
 of him, or love to him, but is against him by enmity 
 and provocation. If God himself dwell and walk 
 in all his holy ones, then they that dwell and walk 
 with them, have the best opportunity to dwell and 
 walk with God. To converse with those in whom 
 God dwelleth, is to converse with him in his image, 
 and to attend him at his dwelling: and wilfully to 
 run among the wicked, is to run far away from God. 
 " In his temple doth every man speak of his glory;" 
 
7^ 
 
 when among his brutish enemies every man speaketh 
 to the dishonour of him in his word and ways. He 
 is otherwise present with those that are congregated 
 in his name and for his worship, than he is with 
 those that are assembled for wickedness or vanity, 
 or Hve as brutes without God in the world. And 
 we must draw as near him as we can, if we would 
 be such as walk with God. 
 
 We must not be strange to him in our thoughts, 
 but make him the object of our most serious medi- 
 tations. It is said of the wicked, that " they are 
 far from God;" and that God is not in all their 
 thoughts.'* The thoughts are the mind's employ- 
 ment. It dwells on that which it frequently thinks 
 of. It is a walk of the mind, and not of the body, 
 which we are treating of. To mind the world, and 
 fleshly things, is contrary to this walk with God: we 
 are far from him when our thoughts are (ordinarily) 
 far from him. I know that it is lawful and meet to 
 think of the business of our callings, so far as is ne- 
 cessary to the prudent successful management of 
 them, and that it is not requisite that our thoughts 
 be always actually upon God; but he that doth ma- 
 nage his calling in holiness, doth all in obedience to 
 God's commands, and sees that his work be the 
 work of God, and he intendeth all to the glory of 
 God, or the pleasing of his blessed will. And he 
 oft reneweth these actual intentions, and oft inter- 
 poseth thoughts of the presence, or power, or love, 
 or interest, of him whom he is serving; he often 
 lifteth up his soul in some holy desire or ejaculatory 
 request to God; he often taketh occasion from what 
 he seeth, or heareth, or is doing, for some more 
 
73 
 
 spiritual meditation or discourse; so that still it is 
 God that his mind is principally employed on or for, 
 even in his ordinary work, (while he liveth as a 
 Christian.) 
 
 And it is not enough to think of God; but we 
 must think of him as God, with such respect, and ^ 
 reverence, and love, and trust, and submission (in 
 our measure) as is due from the creature to his 
 Creator. For as some kind of speaking of him is 
 but a taking his name in vain, so some kind of think- 
 ing of him is but a dishonouring of him, by con- 
 temptuous, or false, unwortliy thoughts. Most of 
 our walking with God consisteth in such affectionate 
 apprehensions of him, as are suitable to his blessed 
 attributes and relations. All the day long our 
 thoughts should be working efther on God, or for 
 God; either upon some work of obedience which he 
 hath appointed to us, and in which we desire to 
 please and honour him, or else directly upon himself. 
 Our hearts must be taken up in contemplating and 
 admiring him, in magnifying his name, his word and 
 works; and in pleasant, contentful thoughts of his 
 benignity and of his glory, and the glory which he 
 conferreth on his saints. He that is unskilful, or 
 unable, to manage his own thoughts, with some ac- 
 tivity, seriousness, and order, will be a stranger to 
 much of the holy converse which believers have with 
 God. They that have given up the government 
 of their thoughts, and turned them loose, to go which 
 way phantasy pleaseth, and present sensitive objects 
 invite them, and to run up and down th« world as 
 masterless, unruly vagrants, can hardly expect to 
 keep them in any constant attendance upon God, or 
 D 35 
 
74 
 
 readiness for any sacred work. And the sudden 
 thoughts which they have of God, will be rude and 
 stupid, savouring more of profane contempt than of 
 holiness, when they should be reverent, serious, af- 
 fectionate, and practical, and such as conduce to a 
 ,holy composure of their hearts and lives. 
 
 And as we must walk with God, I. In our com- 
 munion with his servants; 2. And in our affectionate 
 meditations; so also, 3. In all the ordinances which 
 he hath appointed for our edification and his worship. 
 
 1. The reading of the word of God, and the ex- 
 plication and application of it in good books, is a 
 means to possess the mind with sound, and orderly, 
 and working, apprehensions of God, and of his holy 
 truths : so that in such readino; our understandings 
 are oft illuminated with a heavenly light, and our 
 hearts are touched with a special delightful relish of 
 that truth, and they are secretly attracted and en- 
 gaged to God, and all the powers of our souls are 
 excited and animated to a holy, obedient life. 
 
 2. The same word, preached with a lively voice, 
 with clearness and affection, hath a greater advantage 
 for the same illurhination and excitation of the soul. 
 When a minister of Christ, that is truly a divine, 
 being filled with the knowledge and love of God, shall 
 copiously and affectionately open to his hearers, the 
 excellencies which he hath seen, and the happiness 
 which he hath foreseen and tasted of himself, it fre- 
 quently (through the co-operation of the Spirit of 
 Christ) doth wrap up the hearers' hearts to God, and 
 bring them into a more lively knowledge of him, ac- 
 tuating their graces, and inflaming their hearts with a 
 heavenly love, ^nd such desires as God hath promised 
 
75 
 
 to satisfy. Christ cloth not only send his ministers 
 furnished with authority from him, but also furnished 
 with his Spirit, to speak of spiritual things in a spi- 
 ritual manner; so that in both respects he might say, 
 " He that heareth you, heareth me;" and also, by 
 the same Spirit, doth open and excite the hearts of 
 the hearers: so that it is God himself that a serious 
 Christian is principally employed with, in the hearing 
 of his heavenly, transforming word; and therefore 
 he is affected with reverence and holy fear, with 
 some taste of heavenly delight, with obediential 
 subjection and resignation of himself to God. The 
 word of God is powerful, not only in pulHng down 
 all high, exalting thoughts, that rise up against God, 
 but also in lifting up depressed souls, that are unable 
 to rise to heavenly knowledge, or communion with 
 God. If some Christians could but always find as 
 much of God upon their hearts at other times, as 
 they find sometimes under a spiritual, powerful mi- 
 nistry, they would not so complain, that they seem 
 forsaken, and strangers to all communion with God, 
 as many of them do. While God, by his mes- 
 sengers and Spirit, is speaking, and man is hearing 
 him; while God is treating with man about his re- 
 conciliation and everlasting happiness, and man is 
 seriously attending to the treaty and motions of his 
 Lord, surely this is a very considerable part of our 
 walking and converse with God. 
 
 3. Also, in the sacrament of the body and blood 
 of Christ, we are called to a familiar converse with 
 God. He there appeareth to us, by a wonderful 
 condescension, in the representing, communicating, 
 signs of the flesh and blood of his Son, in which he 
 D2 
 
76 
 
 hath most conspicuously revealed his love and good- 
 ness to believers; there Christ himself, with his cove- 
 nant-gifts, are all delivered to us, by these investing 
 signs of his own institution; even as knighthood is 
 given by a sword, and as a house is delivered by a 
 key, or land by a twig and turf. Nowhere is God 
 so near to man, as in Jesus Christ; and nowhere is 
 Christ so familiarly represented to us, as in this holy 
 sacrament. Here we are called to sit with him at 
 his table, as his invited welcome guests; to commemo- 
 rate his sacrifice, to feed upon his very flesh and 
 blood; that is, with our mouths upon his representa- 
 tive flesh and blood, and with our applying faith upon 
 his real flesli and blood, by such a feeding as belongs 
 to faith. The marriage-covenant, betwixt God in- 
 carnate, and his espoused ones, is there publicly 
 sealed, celebrated, and solemnized. There we are 
 entertained by God as friends, and not as servants 
 only, and that at the most precious costly feast. If 
 ever a believer may on earth expect his kindest en- 
 tertainment, and near access, and an humble intimacy 
 with his Lord, it is in the participation of his sacri- 
 fice-feast, which is called " the Communion;" be- 
 cause it is appointed, as well for our special com- 
 munion with Christ, as with one another. It is 
 here that we have the fullest intimation, expression, 
 and communication, of the wondrous love of God; 
 and therefore it is here that we have the loudest call, 
 and best assistance, to make a large return of love; 
 and where there is most of this love between God 
 and man, there is most communion, and most of 
 heaven, that can be had on earth. 
 
 But it much concerneth the members of Christ, 
 
77 
 
 that they deprive not themselves of this communion 
 with God, in this holy sacrament, through their 
 miscarriage; which is too frequently done by one of 
 these extremes. Either by rushing upon holy things 
 with a presumptuous, careless, common frame of 
 heart, as if they knew not that they go to feast with 
 Christ, and discerned not his body: or else by an 
 excess of fear, drawing back, and questioning the 
 good-will of God, and thinking diminutively of his 
 love and mercy. By this means, Satan depriveth 
 many of the comfortable part of their communion 
 with God, both in this sacrament, and in other ways 
 of grace; and maketh them avoid him as an enemy, 
 and be loath to come into his special presence; and 
 even to be afraid to think of him, to pray to him, 
 or to have any holy converse with him; when the 
 just belief and observation of his love would esta- 
 blish them, and revive their souls with joy, and give 
 them experience of the sweet delights which are 
 opened to them in the Gospel, and which believers 
 find in the love of God, and the foretaste of the 
 everlasting pleasures. 
 
 4. In holy, faithful, fervent prayer, a Christian 
 hath very much of his converse with God. For 
 prayer is our approach to God, and calling to mind 
 his presence and his attributes, and exercising all his 
 graces in a holy motion towards him, and an exciting 
 all the powers of our souls to seek him, attend him, 
 and reverently to worship him. It is our treating 
 with him about the most important businesses in all 
 the world; a begging of the greatest mercies, and a 
 deprecating his most grievous judgments; and all 
 this with the nearest familiarity that man in flesh 
 
78 
 
 can have with God. In prayer, the Spirit of God 
 is working up our hearts to him, with desires ex- 
 pressed in sighs and groans; it is a work of God as 
 well as of man; he bloweth the fire, though it be 
 our hearts that burn and boil. In prayer we lay 
 hold on Jesus Christ, and plead his merits and in- 
 tercession with the Father; he taketh us, as it were, 
 by the hand, and leadeth us to God, and hideth our 
 sins, and procureth our acceptance, and presenteth 
 us amiable to his Father, having justified and sanc- 
 tified us, and cleansed us from these pollutions, which 
 rendered us loathsome and abominable. To speak 
 to God in secret prayer, is a work so high, and of 
 so great moment, that it calleth off our minds from 
 all things else, and giveth no creature room, or leave, 
 to look into the' soul, or once to be observed. The 
 mind is so taken up with God, and employed with 
 him, that creatures are forgotten, and we take no 
 notice of them, (unless when, through the diversions 
 of the flesh, our prayers are interrupted and corrupted, 
 and so far degenerate, and are no prayer; so far, I 
 say, as we thus turn away from God.) So that the 
 soul that is most and best at prayer, is most and 
 best at walking with God, and hath most communion 
 with him in the Spirit. And to withdraw from 
 prayer, is to withdraw from God; and to be unwilling 
 to pray, is to be unwilling to draw near to God. 
 Meditation or contemplation is a duty in which God 
 is much enjoyed; but prayer hath meditation in it, 
 and much more. All that is upon the mind in 
 meditation, is upon the mind in prayer, and that with 
 great advantage, as being presented before God, and 
 pleaded with him, and so animated by the apprehen- 
 
79 
 
 sions of his observing presence, and actuated by the 
 desires and pleadings of the souL When we are 
 commanded to pray, it includeth a command to re- 
 pent, and beheve, and fear the Lord, and desire his 
 grace. For faith, and repentance, and fear, and 
 desire, are altogether in action in a serious prayer; 
 and, as it were, naturally each one takes its place, 
 and there is a holy order in the acting of these graces 
 in a Christian's prayers, and a harmony which he 
 doth seldom himself observe. He that in medita- 
 tion knoweth not how to be regular and methodical, 
 when he is studiously contriving and endeavouring 
 it, yet in prayer before he is aware, hath repentance, 
 and faith, and fear, and desire, and every grace, fall 
 in its proper place and order, and contribute its part 
 to the performance of the work. The new nature 
 of a Christian is more immediately and vigorously 
 operative in prayer, than in many other duties: and 
 therefore every infant in the family of God can pray, 
 (with groaning desires, and ordered graces, if not 
 with well-ordered words.) When Paul began to 
 live to Christ, he began (aright) to pray: " Behold 
 he prayeth," saith God to Ananias. And " because 
 they are sons, God sends the Spirit of his Son into 
 the hearts of his elect, even the Spirit of adoption, 
 by which they cry Abba, Father," as children natu- 
 turally cry to their parents for relief. And nature 
 is more regular in its works than art or human con- 
 trivance is. Necessity teacheth many a beggar to 
 pray better for relief to men, than many learned men 
 (that feel not their necessities) can pray to God. 
 The Spirit of God is a better methodist than we 
 are. And though I know that we are bound to use 
 
80 
 
 our utmost care and skill for the orderly actuating 
 of each holy affection in our prayers, and not pretend 
 the sufficiency of the Spirit for the patronage of our 
 negligence or sloth, (for the Spirit makes use of our 
 understandings for the actuating of our wills and 
 affections;) yet withal it cannot be denied, but that 
 it was upon a special reason that the Spirit that is 
 promised to believers, is cal'ed a " Spirit of grace 
 and supplication." And that it is given us to 
 " help our infirmities," even the infirmities of our 
 understanding, when " we know not what to pray 
 for as we ought." And that the Spirit itself is 
 said to " make intercession for us, with groanings 
 which cannot be uttered." It is not the Spirit 
 without that is here meant: such intercession is no 
 where ascribed to that. How then is the prayer of 
 the Spirit within us distinguished from our prayer? 
 Not as different effects of different causes; as differ^ 
 ent prayers by these different parties. But as the 
 same prayer proceeding from different causes, having 
 a special force (for quality and degree) as from one 
 cause (the Spirit), which it hath not from the other 
 cause (from ourselves), except as received from the 
 Spirit. The Spirit is a new nature, or fixed incli- 
 nation in the saints; for their very self-love, and will 
 to good, is sanctified in them, which works so 
 readily, though voluntarily, as that it is in a sort by 
 the way of nature, though not excluding reason and 
 will; and not as the motion of the brutish appetite. 
 And that God is their felicity, and the only help and 
 comfort of their souls, and so the principal good to 
 be desired by them is become to them a truth so 
 certain, and beyond all doubt, that their understand- 
 
81 
 
 ings are convinced, that to love good, and to love 
 God, are words that have almost the same significa- 
 tion; and therefore here is no room for deliberation and 
 choice, where there is nothing but unquestionable 
 good. A Christian, so far as he is such, cannot choose 
 but desire the favour and fruition of God in immortal- 
 ity, even as he cannot choose (because he is a man) but 
 desire his own felicity in general. And as he cannot 
 (as a man) but be unwilling of destruction, and cannot 
 but fear apparent misery, and that which bringetli 
 it; so as a Christian he cannot choose but be unwill- 
 ing of damnation, and of the wrath of God, and of 
 sin as sin, and fear the apparent danger of his soul, 
 so that his new nature will presently cast his fear, 
 and repentance, and desires, into their proper course 
 and order, and set them on work on their several 
 objects, (about the main unquestionable things, how- 
 ever they may err, or need more deliberation about 
 things doubtful.) The new creature is not as a 
 lifeless engine (as a clock, or watch, or ship), where 
 every part must be set in order by the art and hand 
 of man, and so kept and used; but it is more like 
 the frame of our own nature, even like man who is a 
 living engine, when every part is set in its place and 
 order by the Creator, and hath in itself a living and 
 harmonical principle, which disposeth it to action, 
 and to regular action, and is so to be kept in order 
 and daily exercise by ourselves, as yet to be princi- 
 pally ordered and actuated by the Spirit which is the 
 principal cause. 
 
 By all which you may understand how the Holy 
 Ghost is in us a Spirit of supplication, and helpeth 
 our infirmities, and teacheth us to pray, and inter- 
 D3 
 
8^2 
 
 cedeth in us; and also that prayer is to the new man 
 so natural a motion of the soul towards God, that 
 much of our walking with God is exercised in this 
 holy duty; and that it is to the new life as breathing 
 to our natural life, and therefore no wonder that we 
 are commanded to " pray continually," as we must 
 breathe continually; or as nature which needeth a 
 daily supply of food for nourishment, hath a daily 
 appetite to the food which it needeth, so hath the 
 spiritual nature to its necessary food, and nothing 
 but sickness doth take it off. 
 
 And thus 1 have showed how our walking with 
 God, containeth a holy use of his appointed means. 
 
 11. To walk with God includeth our dependance 
 on him for our receivings, and taking our mercies as 
 from his hand. To live as upon his love and 
 bounty; as children with their father, that can look 
 for nothing but from him. As the eye of a servant, 
 yea, of a craving dog, is upon his master's face and 
 hand, so must our eye be on the Lord, for the gra- 
 cious supply of all our wants. If men give us any 
 thing, we take them but as the messengers of God, 
 by whom he sendeth it us. We will not be un- 
 thankful to men; but we thank them but for bringing 
 us our Father's gifts. Indeed man is so much more 
 than a mere messenger, that his own charity also is 
 exercised in the gift. A mere messenger is to do 
 no more but obediently to deliver what is sent us, 
 and he need not exercise any charity of his own; 
 and we owe him thanks only for his fidelity and la- 
 bour, but only to his master for the gift. But God 
 will so far honour man, as that he shall be called also 
 to use his charity, and distribute his master's gifts 
 
83 
 
 with some self-denial; and we owe him thanks as 
 under God, he partaketh in the charity of the gift ; 
 and as one child oweth thanks to another, who both 
 in obedience to the father, and love to his brother, 
 doth give some part of that which his father had 
 given him before. But still it is from our Father's 
 bounty, as the principal cause that all proceeds. 
 Thus Jacob speaketh of God, " God before whom 
 ray fathers, Abraham and Isaac did walk, the God 
 which fed me all my life long unto this day, the 
 angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless the 
 lads," &c. When he had mentioned his father 
 Abraham and Isaac's walking with God, he de- 
 scribeth his own by his dependance upon God, and 
 receiving from him, acknowledging him the God 
 that had fed him, and delivered him all his life. 
 Carnal men that live by sense, depend upon inferior 
 sensible causes; and though they are taught to pray 
 to God, and thank him with their tongues, it is 
 indeed their own contrivances and industry, or their 
 visible benefactors, which their hearts depend upon 
 and thank. It were a shame to them to be so plain 
 as Pharaoh, and to sayj " Who is the Lord?" or 
 to speak as openly as Nebuchadnezzar, and say, " Is 
 not this great Babylon that I have built, by the 
 might of my power," &c. Yet the same atheism 
 and self-idolizing is in their hearts, though it be more 
 modestly and cunningly expressed. Hence it is 
 that they that walk with God, have all their re- 
 ceivings sanctified to them, and have in all a divine 
 and spiritual sweetness, which those that take them 
 but as from creatures, never feel or understand. 
 12. Lastly, It is contained in our walking with 
 
84 
 
 God, that the greatest business of our lives be with 
 him, and for him. It is not a walk for compliment 
 or recreation only, that is here meant; but it is a 
 life of nearness, converse, and employment, as a 
 servant or child that dwelleth with his master or 
 father in the house. God should be always so re- 
 garded, that man should stand by as nothing, and 
 be scarce observed in comparison of him. We 
 should begin the day with God, and entertain him 
 in the first and sweetest of our thoughts. We should 
 walk abroad and do our works as in his sight. We 
 must resolve* to do no work but his, no not in our 
 trades and ordinary callings. We must be able to 
 say. It is the work which my Master set me to do, 
 and I do it to obey and please his will. At night 
 we must take an account of ourselves, and spread 
 open that account before him, desiring his acceptance 
 of what was well, and his pardon for what we did 
 amiss, that we may thus be ready for our last account. 
 In a word, though men be our fellow-labourers and 
 companions, yet the principal business of our care 
 and diligence must be our Master's service in the 
 world. And therefore we must look about us, and 
 discern the opportunities of serving him, and of the 
 best improvement of his talents; and must make it 
 our daily study and business, to do him the greatest 
 service we are able, whatever it may cost us through 
 the malice of the enemies, being sure our labour shall 
 not be in vain, and that we cannot serve him at too 
 dear a rate. It is not as idle companions, but as 
 servants, as soldiers, as those that put forth all their 
 strength, to do his work and reach the crown, that 
 we are called to walk with God. And all this is 
 
S5 
 
 done, though not in the same degree by all, yet ac- 
 cording to the measure of their holiness, by every 
 one that lives by faith. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 The Manner of Walking with God. 
 
 Having told you what it is to walk with God, 
 as to the matter of it, I shall more briefly tell you 
 as to the manner. The nature of God, of man, and 
 of the work, will tell it you. 
 
 1. That our walk with God must be with the 
 greatest reverence: were we ever so much assured of 
 his special love to us, and never so full of faith and 
 joy, our reverence must be never the less for this. 
 Though love cast out that, guilty fear which dis- 
 courageth the sinner from hoping and seeking for 
 the mercy which would save him, and which dis- 
 poseth him to hate and fly from God, yet doth it not 
 cast out that reverence of God which we owe him 
 as his creatures, so infinitely below him as vve are. 
 It cannot be that God should be known and remem- 
 bered as God, without some admiring and awful ap- 
 prehensions of him. Infiniteness, omnipotency, and 
 inaccessible majesty and glory, must needs affect the 
 soul that knoweth them, with reverence and self- 
 abasement. Though " we receive a kingdom that 
 cannot be moved," yet if we will " serve God ac- 
 ceptably," we must " serve him with reverence and 
 godly fear," as knowing he " is oar God," so he is 
 
86 
 
 also a " consuming fire." We must so worship 
 him as those that remember that we are worms and 
 guilty sinners, and that he is most high and holy, 
 and will be " sanctified in them that come nigh him, 
 and before all the people he will be glorified." 
 Irreverence showeth a kind of atheistical contempt 
 of God, or else a sleepiness and inconsiderateness of 
 the soul. The sense of the goodness and love of 
 God, must consist with the sense of his holiness and 
 omnipotency. It is presumption, pride, or blockish 
 stupidity, which excludeth reverence; which faith 
 doth cause and not oppose. 
 
 2. Our walking with God must be a work of 
 humble boldness and familiarity. The reverence of 
 his holiness and greatness, must not overcome or 
 exclude the sense of his goodness and compassion, 
 nor the full assurance of faith and hope. Though 
 by sin we are enemies and strangers to God, and 
 stand afar off, yet in Christ we are reconciled to 
 him, and brought near. " For he is our peace, who 
 hath taken down the partition, and abolished the 
 enmity, and reconciled Jew and Gentile unto God." 
 " And through him we have all an access to the 
 Father by one Spirit. We are now no more strangers 
 and foreigners, but fellow-citizens of the saints, and 
 of the household of God." " In him we have bold- 
 ness and access with confidence by the belief of him." 
 Though of ourselves we are unworthy to be called 
 his children, and may well stand afar off with the 
 publican, and not dare to lift up our faces towards 
 heaven, but smite our breasts, and say, " O Lord, 
 be merciful to me a sinner." Yet " have we bold- 
 ness to enter into the holiest, by the blood of Jesus, 
 
87 
 
 by a new and living way which he hath consecrated 
 for us, ti}rough the veil, that is to say, his flesh. 
 And having an High Priest over the house of God, 
 we may draw near with a true heart in full assurance 
 of faith." Therefore whensoever we are afraid at 
 the sight of sin and justice, let us remember that 
 " we have a great High Priest that is passed into the 
 heavens, even Jesus the Son of God. And there- 
 fore let us come boldly to the throne of grace, that 
 we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time 
 of need." He that alloweth us to walk with him, 
 doth allow us such humble familiarity as beseemeth 
 those that walk together with him. 
 
 3. Our walking with God must be a work of some 
 holy pleasure and delight. We may willingly be 
 dragged into the presence of an enemy, and serve as 
 drudges upon mere necessity or fear. But walking 
 together is the loving and delightful converse of 
 friends. When we take sweet counsel of the Lord, 
 and set him always at our right hand, and are glad 
 to hear from him, and glad to speak to him, and glad 
 to withdraw our thoughts from all the things and 
 persons in the world, that we may solace ourselves 
 in the contemplations of his excellency, and the ad- 
 miration of his love and glory, this is indeed to walk 
 \vith God. You converse with him as with a 
 stranger, an enemy, or your destroyer, and not as 
 .with God, while you had rather be far from him, and 
 only tremble in his presence, and are glad when you 
 have done and are got away, but have no delight or 
 pleasure in him. If we can take delight in our 
 walking with a friend, a friend that is truly loving 
 and constant, a friend that is learned, wise and holy ! 
 
88 
 
 if their wise and heavenly discourse be better to us 
 than our recreations, meat, or drink, or clothes! 
 What delight then should we find in our secret con- 
 verse with the most high, most wise and gracious 
 God ! How glad should we be to find him willing 
 and ready to entertain us ! How glad should we be 
 that we may employ our thoughts on so high and 
 excellent an object! What cause have we to say, 
 *' My meditation of him shall be sweet, and I will 
 be glad in the Lord." " In the multitude of my 
 thoughts within me (my sorrowful, troublesome, 
 weary thoughts) thy comforts do delight my soul." 
 Let others take pleasure in childish vanity or sen- 
 suality, but say thou as David, " I have rejoiced in 
 the ways of thy commandments, as much as in all 
 riches: I will meditate in thy precepts, and have 
 respect unto thy ways: I will delight myself in thy 
 statutes, and will not forget thy word. I will de- 
 light myself in thy commandments which I have 
 loved." Let " scorners delight in scorning, and 
 fools hate knowledge," but " make me to go in the 
 path of thy commandments, for therein do I delight." 
 If thou wouldst experimentally know the safety and 
 glory of a holy life, " delight thyself in the Lord, 
 and he shall give thee the desire of thy heart." 
 Especially when we draw near him in his solemn 
 worship, and when we separate ourselves on his holy 
 days from all our common worldly thoughts, to be 
 conversant, as in heaven, with the blessed God; then 
 we may with the holy Apostle, be " in the Spirit on 
 the Lord's day." " And if we turn away our foot 
 from the Sabbath, from doing our pleasure on that 
 holy day, and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy 
 
89 
 
 of the Lord, honourable, and shall honour him, not 
 doing our own ways, nor finding our own pleasure, 
 nor speaking our own words, then shall we delight 
 ourselves in the Lord," and understand how great a 
 privilege it is, to have the liberty of those holy days 
 and duties, for our sweet and heavenly converse with 
 God. 
 
 4>. Our walking with God must be a matter of 
 industry and diligence. It is not an occasional idle 
 converse, but a life of observance, obedience, and 
 employment, that this phrase importeth. The slug- 
 gish, idle wishes of the hypocrite, whose hands re- 
 fuse to labour, are not this walking with God; nor 
 " the sacrifice of fools," who are hasty to utter the 
 overflowings of their fantasy before the Lord, while 
 they " keep not their foot, nor hearken to the law, 
 nor consider that they do evil." " He that cometh 
 to God, and will walk with him, must believe that 
 he is, and that he is the rewarder of them that dili- 
 gently seek him: God is with you while you are with 
 him, but if you forsake him, he will forsake you." 
 " Up, and be doing, and the Lord will be with 
 you." If you would meet with God in the way of 
 mercy, '^ take diligent heed to do the commandment 
 and law, to love the Lord your God, and to walk in 
 all his ways, and to cleave unto him, and to serve 
 him with all your heart, and with all your soul." 
 
 5. Our walking with God is a matter of some 
 constancy; it signifieth our course and trade of life, 
 and not some accidental action by the by. A man 
 may walk with a stranger for a visit, or in compliment, 
 or upon some unusual occasion; but this walk with 
 God, is the act of those that dwell with him in his 
 
90 
 
 family, and do his work. It is not only to step and 
 speak with hira, or cry to him for mercy in some 
 great extremity, or to go to church for company or 
 custom, or think or talk of him sometimes heartlessly 
 by the by, as a man will talk of news, or matters 
 that are done in a foreign land, or of persons that 
 we have little to do with: but it is to " be always 
 with him." " To seek first his kingdom and right- 
 eousness." " Not to labour (comparatively) for the 
 food that perisheth, but for that which endureth to 
 everlasting life." " To delight in the law of the 
 Lord, and meditate in it day and nigh't." That his 
 " words be in our hearts, and that we teach them 
 diligently to our children, and talk of them sitting 
 in the house, and walking by the way, lying down, 
 rising up," &c. That " we pray continually." 
 " And in all things give thanks." But " will the 
 hypocrite delight himself in the Almighty, or will 
 he always call upon God?" " His goodness is as 
 the morning cloud, and as the early dew, it goeth 
 away." 
 
 So much for the description of this " walking 
 with God." 
 
 CHAP. HI. 
 
 Reasons for Walking with God, 
 
 We are next to consider how far this doctrine 
 doth concern ourselves, and what use we have to 
 make of it upon our hearts and lives. 
 
91 
 
 And First, It acquainteth us with the abundance 
 of atheism that is in the world, even among those 
 that profess the knowledge of God. It is atheism, 
 not only to say, " There is no God," but to say so 
 " in the heart;" while the heart is no more af- 
 fected towards him, observant of him, or confident 
 in him, or submissive to him, than if indeed there 
 were no God. When there is nothing of God upon 
 the heart, no love, no fear, no trust, no subjection, 
 this is heart-atheism. When men that have some 
 kind of knowledge of God, yet glorify him not " as 
 God, nor are thankful to him, but become vain in 
 their imaginations, and their foolish hearts are dark- 
 ened;" these men are heart-atheists; " and professing 
 themselves wise, they become fools, and are given up 
 to vile affections. And as they do not like to retain 
 God in their knowledge, (however they may discourse 
 of him, so) God oft giveth them over to a reprobate 
 mind, to do those things that are not convenient, 
 being filled with all unrighteousness, fornication, 
 wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness, envy, mur- 
 der, debate, deceit, malignity," &c. Swarms of such 
 atheists go up and down under the self-deceiving 
 name of Christians : being indeed unbelieving and 
 defiled, so void of purity that they deride it, and 
 " nothing is pure to them; but even their mind and 
 conscience is defiled. They profess that they know 
 God, but they deny him in their works, being 
 abominable and disobedient, and to every good work 
 reprobate." What are they but atheists, when 
 " God is not in all their thoughts," unless it be in 
 their impious or blaspheming thoughts, or in their 
 slight, contemptuous thoughts ! To take God for 
 
92 
 
 God indeed, and for our God, essentially includeth 
 the taking him to be the most powerful, wise and 
 good, the most just and holy, the Creator, Preserver, 
 and Governor of the world, whom we, and all men, 
 are obliged absolutely to obey and fear, to love and 
 desire, whose will is our beginning, rule, and end. 
 He that taketh not God for such as here described, 
 taketh him not for God, and therefore, is indeed an 
 atheist; what name soever he assumeth to himself, 
 this is the name that God will call him by, even a 
 " fool that hath said in his heart there is no God; 
 while they are corrupt and do abominably, they un- 
 derstand not, and seek not after God; they are all 
 gone aside, and are altogether become filthy, there 
 is none of them that doth good; they are workers of 
 iniquity, they have no knowledge, and eat up the 
 people of God as bread, and call not upon the Lord.'* 
 Ungodliness is but the English for atheism. The 
 atheist, or ungodly in opinion, is he that thinks 
 that there is no God, or that he is one that 
 we need not love and serve, (and that is but the 
 same, namely, to be no God.) The atheist, or un- 
 godly in heart or will, is he that consenteth not that 
 God shall be his God, to be loved, feared, and 
 obeyed, before all. The atheist in life, or outward 
 practice, is he that liveth as without God in the 
 world; that seeketh him not as his chief good; and 
 obeyeth him not as his highest absolute Lord ; so 
 that indeed atheism is the sum of all iniquity, as 
 godliness is the sum of all religion and moral good. 
 If you see by the description which I have given 
 you, what it is to be godly, and to walk with God, 
 and what it is to be an atheist, or ungodly, you may 
 
93 
 
 easily see that godliness is more rare, and atheism 
 more common, than many that themselves are atheists 
 will believe. It is not that which a man calls his 
 God, that is taken by him for his God indeed. It 
 is not the tongue, but the heart that is the man. 
 Pilate called Christ the King of the Jews, when he 
 crucified him. The Jews called God their Father, 
 when Christ telleth them, they were of their father 
 the devil, andproveth it, because (whatever they 
 said) they would do their lusts. The same Jews 
 pretended to honour the name of the Messiah, and 
 expect him, while they kill him. The question is 
 not what men call themselves, but what they are; 
 not whether you say you take God for your God, 
 but whether you do so indeed. Not whether you 
 profess yourselves to be atheists, but whether you 
 are atheists indeed or not. If you are not, look 
 over what I have here said, and ask your consciences. 
 Do you walk with God ? who is it you submit your- 
 selves willingly to be disposed of by? to whom are 
 you most subject? and whose commands have the 
 most effectual authority with you? who is the chief 
 governor of your hearts and lives? whom is it that 
 you principally desire to please? whom do you most 
 fear? and whose displeasure do you principally avoid? 
 ' from whom is it that you expect your greatest re- 
 ward? and in whom, and with whom, do you place 
 and expect your happiness? whose work is it that 
 you do, as the greatest business of your lives? Is 
 it the goodness of God in himself, and unto you, 
 that draweth up your hearts to him in love? Is he 
 the ultimate end of the main intentions, design, and 
 industry of your lives? Do you trust upon his 
 
94 
 
 word as your security for your everlasting hopes and 
 happiness? Do you study and observe him in his 
 works? Do you really live as in his presence? 
 Do you delight in his word, and meditate on it? 
 Do you love the communion of saints? and to be 
 most frequent and familiar with them that are most 
 frequent and familiar with Christ? Do you favour 
 more the particular affectionate discourse about his 
 nature, will, and kingdom, than the frothy talk of 
 empty wits, or the common discourse of carnal world- 
 lings ? Do you love to be employed in thanking 
 him for his mercies, and in praising him, and de- 
 claring the glory of his attributes and works? Is 
 your dependance on him as your great Benefactor, 
 and do you receive your mercies as his gifts? If 
 thus your principal observation be of God, and your 
 chief desire after God, and your chief confidence in 
 God, and your chief business in the world be with 
 God, and for God, and your chief joy be in the 
 favour of God, (when you can apprehend it) and in 
 the prosperity of his church, and your hopes of glory; 
 and your chief grief and trouble be your sinful dis- 
 tance from him, and your backwardness and disability 
 in his love and service, and the fear of his displea- 
 sure, and the injuries done to his Gospel and honour 
 in the world; then I must needs say, you are savingly 
 delivered from your atheism and ungodliness; you 
 do not only talk of God, but walk with God; you 
 are then acquainted with that spiritual life and work, 
 which the sensual world is unacquainted with, and 
 with those invisible, everlasting excellencies, which 
 if worldlings knew, they would change their minds, 
 and choice, and pleasures. You are then acquainted 
 
95 
 
 with that rational, manly, saint-like life, which un- 
 godly men are strangers to; and you are in the way 
 of that well-grounded hope and peace to which all 
 tlie pleasures and crowns on earth, if compared, are 
 but cheats and misery. But if you were never yet 
 brought to walk with God, do not think you have a 
 sound belief in God, nor that you acknowledge him 
 sincerely, nor that you are saved from heart-atheism; 
 nor is it piety in the opinion and the tongue, that 
 will save him that is an atheist, or ungodly in heart 
 and life. Divinity is an affective-practical science. 
 Knowing is not the ultimate or perfect art of man; 
 but a means to holy love, and joy, and service. Nor 
 is it clear and solid knowledge, if it do not somewhat 
 aftect the heart, and engage and actuate the life, 
 according to the nature and use of the thing known. 
 The soundness of knowledge and belief, is not best 
 discerned in the intellectual acts themselves, but in 
 their powerful, free, and pleasant efficacy, upon our 
 choice and practice. By these, therefore, you must 
 judge, whether you are godly or atheistical. The 
 question is not what your tongues . say of God, 
 nor what coraplimental ceremonious observances you 
 allow him, but what your hearts and your endeavours 
 say of him, and whether you glorify him as God, 
 when you say you know him; otherwise you will find 
 that the wrath of God is revealed from heaven, 
 against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, 
 who hold the truth in unrighteousness. 
 
 And now, alas ! what matter of lamentation is here 
 before us ! To see how seriously men converse 
 with one another; and how God is overlooked or 
 neglected by the most! How men live together, 
 
96 
 
 as if there were more that is considerable and regard- 
 able in these particles of animated dust, than in the 
 Lord Almighty, and in all his graces, service, and 
 rewards ! To see how God is cast aside, and his 
 interest made to give place to the interest of the 
 flesh, and his services must stay till men have done 
 their service to their lusts, or to worldly men, that 
 can do them hurt, or show them favour! And his 
 will must not be done, when it crosseth the will of 
 sinful man ! How little do all the commands, and 
 promises, and threatenings of God signify, with 
 these atheistical men, in comparison of their lusts, or 
 the laws of men, or any thing that concerneth their 
 temporal prosperity! O how is the world revolted 
 from their Maker! How have they lost the know- 
 ledge of themselves, and forgotten their natures, 
 capacities and obligations, and what it is to be indeed 
 a man! O! hearken, sinners, to the call of your 
 Redeemer! Return, O seduced, wandering souls, 
 and know at last your resting place ! Why is not 
 God in all your thoughts: or why is he thought on 
 with so much remissness, unwillingness, and con- 
 tempt ! and with so little pleasure, seriousness, or 
 regard? Do you understand yourselves in this? 
 Do you deal worthily with God ? or wisely for your- 
 selves ? Do you take more pleasure, with the pro- 
 digal, to feed swine, and to feed with swine, than to 
 dwell at home with your heavenly Father? and to 
 walk before him, and serve him in the world ? Did 
 you but know how dangerous a way you have been 
 in, and how unreasonably you have dealt, to forsake 
 God in your hearts, and follow that which cannot 
 profit you, what haste would you make to leave the 
 
97 
 
 crowd, and come home to God, and try a more noble 
 and gainful conversation? If reasons may have 
 room and leave to work upon you, I will set a few 
 before you more distinctly, to call you off from your 
 barren, inordinate creature-converse, to a believino-, 
 serious converse with God. 
 
 1. The higher and more excellent the object is 
 (especially when it is also of most concern to our- 
 selves,) the more excellent is the converse. There- 
 fore, as nothing dare compare itself with God, so no 
 employment may be compared with this of holy 
 walking with him. How vile a contempt is it of 
 the Almighty, and of our celestial joys, for the heart 
 to neglect them, and turn away, and dwell upon 
 vanity and trouble, and let these highest pleasures 
 go ! Is not God and glory worthy of thy thoughts, 
 and all thy service? 
 
 2. What are those things that take thee up ? 
 Are they better than God? or fitter to supply thy 
 wants? If thou think, and trust in them accord- 
 ingly, ere long thou shalt know better what they are, 
 and have enough of thy cursed choice and confidence. 
 Tell those that stand by thee at the parting hour, 
 whether thou didst choose aright and make a gaining 
 or a saving match. O poor sinners! have you not 
 yet warning enough to satisfy you that all things 
 below are vanity and vexation, and that all your hope 
 of happiness is above? Will not the testimony of 
 God satisfy you? W^ill not the experience of the 
 world for so many thousand years together satisfy 
 you? Will not the ill success of the damned satisfy 
 you? Will nothing but your own experience con- 
 vince you? If so, consider well the experience you 
 
 E 35 
 
98 
 
 have already made, and seasonably retire, and try no 
 further, and trust not so dangerous a deceiver to the 
 last, lest you buy your knowledge at a dearer rate 
 than you will now believe. 
 
 3. You have daily more to do with God, than 
 with all the world, whether you will or no: and 
 therefore seeing you cannot avoid him if you would, 
 prefer that voluntary obediential converse, which 
 hath a reward, before that necessitated converse, 
 which hath none. You are always in his hands: 
 he made you for his service; and he will dispose of 
 you and all that you have, according to his will. 
 It shall not go with you as yourselves would have 
 It, nor as your friends would have it, nor as princes 
 and great ones of the world would have it; (unless 
 as their wills comply with God's ;) but as God would 
 have it, who will infallibly accomplish all his will. 
 If a sparrow fall not to the ground without him, and 
 all the hairs of our heads are numbered, then cer- 
 tainly he overruleth all your interests and affairs, and 
 they are absolutely at his disposal. To whom then 
 in reason should you so much apply yourselves as 
 to him? If you will not take notice of him, he will 
 take notice of you: he will remember you, whether 
 you remember him or not; but it may be with so 
 strict and severe a remembrance, as may make you 
 wish he did quite forget you. You are always in 
 his presence ; and can you then forget him, and hold 
 no voluntary converse with him, when you stand 
 before him ? If it be but mean, inferior persons 
 that we dwell with, and are still in company with, 
 we mind them more, and speak more to them, than 
 we do to greater persons that we seldom see. But 
 
99 
 
 in God there is both greatness and nearness to invite 
 you. Should not all the worms on earth stand by, 
 while the glorious God doth call you to him, and 
 ofiPer you the honour and happiness of his converse? 
 Shall the Lord of heaven and earth stand by, and be 
 shut out, while you are chatting or trifling with his 
 creatures ? Nay, shall he be neglected that is always 
 with you? You cannot remove yourselves a moment 
 from his sight; and, therefore, you should not shut 
 your eyes, and turn away your face, and refuse to 
 observe him who is still observing you. 
 
 Moreover, your dependence, both for soul and 
 body, is all on him: you can have nothing desirable 
 but by his gift. He feeds you, he clotheth you, he 
 maintaineth you, he gives you life, and breath, and 
 all things ; and yet can you overlook him, or forget 
 him ? Do not all his mercies require your acknow- 
 ledgment? A dog will follow him that feedeth 
 him : his eye will be upon his master : and shall we 
 live upon God, and yet forget and disregard him ? 
 We are taught a better use of his mercies by the 
 holy prophet; " O bless our God, ye people, and 
 make the voice of his praise to be heard: which 
 holdeth our soul in life, and sufFereth not our feet 
 to be moved !" 
 
 Nay, it is not yourselves alone, but all the world 
 that depends on God. It is his power that sup- 
 porteth them, and his will that disposeth of them, 
 and his bounty that provideth for them; and there- 
 fore he must be the observation and admiration of 
 the world. It is less unreasonable to take no notice 
 of the earth that beareth us and yieldeth us fruit, 
 and of the sun that yieldeth us heat and light, than 
 E2 
 
100 
 
 to disregard the Lord that is more to us than sun, 
 and earth, and all things. " The eyes of all things 
 wait on him; and he giveth them their meat in sea- 
 son. He openeth his hand, and satisfieth the de- 
 sire of every living thing." " The Lord is good 
 to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works. 
 All his works, therefore, shall praise him, and his 
 saints shall bless him: they shall speak of the glory 
 of his kingdom, and talk of his power." 
 
 Moreover, God is so abundantly and wonderfully 
 represented to us in all his works, as will leave us 
 under the guilt of most inexcusable contempt, if we 
 overlook him, and live as without him in the world. 
 " The heavens declare the glory of God, and the 
 firmament showeth his handy-work. Day unto day 
 uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth 
 knowledge." Thus " that which may be known of 
 God is manifest; for the invisible things of him from 
 the creation of the world are clearly seen, being 
 understood by the things that are made, even his 
 eternal power and godhead; so that the ungodly are 
 without excuse." Cannot you see that which all 
 the world revealeth; nor hear that which all the 
 world proclaimeth? " O sing ye forth the honour 
 of his name : make his praise glorious ! Say to the 
 Lord, How terrible art thou in thy works ! through 
 the greatness of thy power shall thine enemies sub- 
 mit themselves unto thee. All the earth shall worship 
 thee, and shall sing unto thee: they shall sing unto 
 thy name. Come and see the works of God: he is 
 terrible in his doings towards the children of men." 
 Can we pass him by, that is every where present, 
 and by every creature represented to us? Can we 
 
101 ^^- 
 
 forget him, when all the world are our remembran- 
 cers? Can we stop our ears against the voice of" 
 heaven and earth? Can we be ignorant of him, 
 when the whole creation is our teacher? Can we 
 overlook that holy, glorious name, which is written 
 so legibly upon all things that ever our eyes beheld, 
 that nothing but blindness, sleepiness, or distraction, 
 could possibly keep us from discerning it ! I have 
 many a time wondered, that, as the eye is dazzled so 
 with the beholding of the greatest light, that it can 
 scarce perceive the shining of a lesser, so the glo- 
 rious transcendent majesty of the Lord doth not 
 even overwhelm our understandings, and so transport 
 and take us up, as that we scarce observe or remember 
 any thing else. For naturally the greatest objects 
 of our sense, are apt to make us at that time insen- 
 sible of the smaller; and our exceeding great busi- 
 ness, is apt to make us utterly neglect and forget 
 those that are exceedingly small. And O what 
 nothings are the best and greatest of the creatures, 
 in comparison of God ! And what toys and trifles 
 are all our other businesses in the world, in com- 
 parison of the business which we have with him ! 
 But I have been stopped in these admirations, by 
 considering, that the wise Creator hath fitted and 
 ordered all his creatures according to the use which 
 he designeth them to. And therefore as the eye 
 must be receptive only of so much light as is pro- 
 portioned to its use and pleasure, and must be so 
 distant from the sun, that its light may rather guide, 
 than blind us, and its heat may rather quicken, than 
 consume us; so God hath made our understandings 
 capable of no other knowledge of him here, than 
 
what is suited to the work of holiness. And while 
 we have flesh, and fleshly works to do, and lawful 
 and necessary business in the world, which God's 
 own commands employ us, our souls in this lantern 
 of the body, must see him through so thick a glass, 
 as shall so far allay our apprehension, as not to dis- 
 tract us, and take us off the works which he enjoin- 
 eth us. And God and our souls shall be at such a 
 distance, as that the proportionable light of his coun- 
 tenance may conduct us, and not overwhelm us ; and 
 his love may be so revealed, as to quicken our de- 
 sires, and draw us on to a better state, but not so 
 as to make us utterly impatient of this world, and 
 utterly weary of our lives, or to swallow us up, or 
 possess us of our most desired happiness, before we 
 arrive at the state of happiness. While the soul is 
 in the body, it maketh so much use of the body, 
 (the brains and spirits) in all its operations, that our 
 wise and merciful Creator and Governor, doth re- 
 spect the body as well as the soul, in his ordering, 
 disposing, and representing, of the objects of those 
 operations. So that when I consider, that certainly 
 all men would be distracted, if their apprehensions 
 of God were any whit answerable to the greatness 
 of his majesty and glory, (the brain being not able 
 to bear such high operations of the soul, nor the 
 greatness of the passions which would necessarily 
 follow,) it much reconcileth my wondering mind to 
 the wise and gracious providence of God, even in 
 setting innocent nature itself at such a distance from 
 his glory, (allowing us the presence of such grace, as 
 is necessary to bring us up to glory), — though it 
 reconcile me not to that doleful distance which is 
 
103 , 
 
 introduced by sin, and which is furthered by Satan, 
 the world, and the flesh, and which our Redeemer, 
 by his Spirit and intercession, must heal. 
 
 And it further reconcileth me to this disposure 
 and will of the blessed God, and this necessary na- 
 tural distance and darkness of our mind, when I 
 consider, that if God, and heaven, and hell, were as 
 near and open to our apprehensions, as the things 
 are which we see and feel, this life would not be 
 what God intended it to be, a life of trial and pre- 
 paration to another, a work, a race, a pilgrimage, a 
 warfare; what trial would there be of any man's faith, 
 or love, or obedience, or constancy, or self-denial? 
 If we saw God stand by, or apprehended him as if 
 we saw him (in degree) it would be no more praise- 
 worthy, or rewardable, for a man to abhor all tempta- 
 tions to worldliness, ambition, gluttony, drunkenness, 
 lust, cruelty, &c. than it is for a man to be kept 
 from sleeping, that is pierced with thorns, or for a 
 man to forbear to drink a cup of melted gold, which 
 he knoweth will burn out his bowels, or to forbear 
 to burn his flesh in fire. It were no great commen- 
 dation to his chastity, that would forbear his filthi- 
 ness, if he saw or had the fullest apprehensions of 
 God, when he will forbear it in the presence of a 
 mortal man. It were no great commendation to 
 the intemperate and voluptuous, to have no mind of 
 sensual delights, if they had but such a knowledge 
 of God as were equal to sight. It were no thanks 
 to the persecutor to forbear his cruelty against the 
 servants of the Lord, if he " saw Christ coming 
 with his glorious angels, to take vengeance on them 
 that know not God, and obey not the Gospel: and 
 
104 
 
 to be admired in his saints, and glorified in them 
 that now believe." I deny not but this happily- 
 necessitated holiness is best in itself, and therefore 
 will be our state in heaven ; but what is there of trial 
 in it? or how can it be suitable to the state of man, 
 that must have good and evil set before him, and 
 lite and death left to his choice; and that must con- 
 quer if he will be crowned, and approve his fidelity 
 to his Creator against competitors, and must live a 
 rewardable life before he have the reward? 
 
 But though, in this life, we may neither hope 
 for, nor desire, such overwhelming, sensible appre- 
 hensions of God, as the rest of our faculties cannot 
 answer, nor our bodies bear; yet that our apprehen- 
 sions of him should be so base, and small, and dull, 
 and unconstant, as to be borne down by the noise of 
 worldly business, or by the presence of any creature, 
 or by the tempting baits of sensuality, this is the 
 more odious, by how much God is more great and 
 glorious than the creature, and even because the use 
 of the creature itself is but to reveal the glory of 
 the Lord. To have such slight and stupid thoughts 
 of him, as will not carry us on in uprightness of 
 obedience, nor keep us in his fear, nor draw out our 
 hearts in sincere desires to please him, and enjoy 
 him, and as will not raise us to a contempt of the 
 pleasures, and profits, and honours, of this world, 
 this is to be despisers of the Lord, and to live as in 
 a sleep, and to be dead to God, and alive only to 
 the world and flesh. It is no unjust dishonour, or 
 injury, to the creature, to be accounted as nothing 
 in comparison of God, that it may be able to do no- 
 thing against him and his interest: but to make such 
 
105 
 
 a nothing of the most glorious God, by our con- 
 temptuous forgetfulness or neglect, as that our ap- 
 prehensions of him cannot prevail against the sordid 
 pleasures of the flesh, and against the richest baits 
 of sin, and all the wrath or allurements of man, this 
 is but to make a god of dust and dung, and nothing, 
 and, in heart and practice, to make God worse than 
 dust and dung. And it is a wonder that man's 
 understanding can become so sottish, as thus to wink 
 the sun itself into a constant darkness, and to take 
 God as nothing, or as no God, who is so abundantly 
 revealed to them, in astonishing transcendent great- 
 ness and excellency, by all the creatures in the world; 
 and with whom we have continually so much to do. 
 O sinful man ! into how great a depth of ignorance, 
 stupidity, and misery, art thou fallen ! 
 
 But because we may see by the lives of the un- 
 godly, that they little think that they have so much 
 to do with God, though I have spoken of this to 
 the godly in the other part of this treatise, I shall, 
 somewhat more particularly, acquaint those that have 
 most need to be informed of it, what business it is 
 that they have with God. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The Necessity of our Walking with God. 
 
 1. It is not a business that may be done, or left 
 undone, like your business with men; but it is such 
 as must be done, or you are undone for ever. No- 
 E3 
 
106 
 
 thing is absolutely necessary but this; nothing in all 
 the world doth so much concern you. You may at 
 far cheaper rates forbear to eat, or drink, or clothe 
 yourselves, or live, than forbear the despatch of this 
 necessary work. 
 
 2. Your business with God, and for God, in the 
 world, is that for which you have all your powers 
 and endowments; it is that which you were born 
 into the world for, and that which you have under- 
 standing and free-will for, and that which you have 
 your thoughts, and memories, and affections for, and 
 that which you have eyes, and ears, and tongues^ 
 and your corporeal parts and abilities for; and that 
 which you have your time for; and your preserva- 
 tion, protection and provisions. It is that which 
 you have all your teaching for; which Christ himself 
 came into the world for; which the Scriptures are 
 written for; which ministers are sent for; which all 
 order and government in church and state is princi- 
 pally appointed for. In a word, it is that for which 
 you have your lives, and all things, and without 
 which all were as nothing, and will be to you worse 
 than nothing, if they do not further your work with 
 God. You will wish you had never seen them if 
 they befriend you not in this. 
 
 3. Your business with God, and for him, is such 
 as you must be continually doing: as is incumbent 
 on you every hour, for you have every hour given 
 you for this end. You may despatch this man to 
 day, and another to-morrow, and have no more to do 
 with them again of a long time. But you have 
 always incessantly important works to do with God. 
 For your common work should be all his work; and 
 all should be done with principal respect to him. 
 
107 
 
 But I shall yet more particularly tell the ungodly 
 what business it is that they have with God, which 
 it seems, by their careless negligent lives, they are 
 not aware of. 
 
 1. You must be either saved or damned by him; 
 either glorified with him, or punished by him to 
 everlasting: and it is now that the matter must be 
 determined, which of the two conditions you must 
 be in. You must now obtain your title to heaven, 
 if ever you will come thither. You must now pro- 
 cure deliverance from hell-fire, if ever you will es- 
 cape it. Now it is that all must be done, upon 
 which the scales must turn for your salvation or 
 damnation: and you know this work is principally to 
 be done between you and God, who alone can save 
 you or destroy you; and yet do you forget him, and 
 live as if you had no business with him, when you 
 have your salvation to obtain from him, and your 
 damnation to prevent! Have you such business as 
 this with any other? 
 
 2. You have a strict and righteous judgment to 
 undergo, in order to this salvation or damnation. 
 You must stand before the Holy Majesty, and be 
 judged by the Governor of the world: you must be 
 there accused, and found guilty or not guilty; and 
 judged as fulfillers, or as breakers of the holy cove- 
 nant of grace. You must be set on the right hand 
 or on the left. You must answer for all the time 
 that you here spent, and for all the means and mer- 
 cies which you here received, and for that you have 
 done, whether it were good or evil. And it is now 
 in this life that all your preparation must be made, 
 and all that must be done, upon which your justifi- 
 
108 
 
 cation or condemnation will then depend. And it 
 is between God and you that all this business must 
 be done: and yet can you live as negligently towards 
 him, as if you had no business with him? 
 
 3. You have a death to die, a change to make, 
 which must be made but once; which will be the 
 entrance upon endless joy or pain: and do you think 
 this needeth not your most timely and diligent pre- 
 paration? You must struggle with pains, and faint 
 with weakness, and feel death taking down your 
 earthly tabernacle. You must then have a life that 
 is ending to review, and all that you have done laid 
 open to your more impartial judgment; you must 
 then see time as at an end, and the last sand running, 
 and your candle ready to go out; you must then look 
 back upon all that you had from the world, as end- 
 ing; and upon all that you have done, as that which 
 cannot be undone again, that you may do it better; 
 and you must have a more serious look into eternity, 
 when you are stepping thither, than you can now 
 conceive of. And doth all this need no preparation? 
 It is with God that all that business must be now 
 transacted, that must make your death to be com- 
 fortable or safe. If now you M'ill only converse with 
 men, and know no business that you have with God, 
 you shall find at last to your exceeding terror, that 
 you are in his hands, and passing to his bar, and 
 that it is God that then you have to do with, when 
 your business with all the world is at an end. He 
 will then have something to do with you, if you will 
 now find nothincr to do with him. 
 
 o 
 
 4. In order to all this, you have now your peace 
 to be made with God, and the pardon of all your sins 
 
109 
 
 to be obtained. For wo to you if then you are 
 found under the guilt of any sin. Look back upon 
 your lives, and remember how you have lived in the 
 world, and what you have been doing: how you have 
 spent your time in youth, and in your riper age; and 
 how many shiful thoughts, and words, and deeds, 
 you have been guilty of; how oft you have sinfully 
 pleased your appetites, and gratified your flesh, and 
 yielded to temptations, and abused mercy, and lost 
 your time. How oft you have neglected your duty, 
 and betrayed your souls: how long you have lived in 
 forgetfuhiess of God and your salvation; minding 
 only the things of the flesh and of the world. How 
 oft you have sinned ignorantly and against know- 
 ledge, through carelessness, and through rashness, 
 through negligence, and through presumption, in 
 passion, and upon deliberation; against convictions, 
 purposes, and promises. How oft you have sinned 
 against the precepts of piety to God, and of justice 
 and charity to men. Think how your sins are mul- 
 tiplied and aggravated, more in number than the 
 hours of your lives : aggravated by a world of mer- 
 cies, by the clearest teachings and the loudest calls, 
 and sharpest reproofs, and seasonable warnings, and 
 by the long and urgent importunities of grace. 
 Think of all these, and then consider whether you 
 have nothing now to do with God, whether it be not 
 a business to be followed with all possible speed and 
 diligence, to procure the pardon of all these sins. 
 You have no such businesses as these to transact with 
 men. You may have business with them which 
 your estates depend upon, or which touch your 
 credit, commodity, or lives; but you have no business 
 
110 
 
 with men (unless in subordination to God) which 
 your salvation doth depend upon. Your eternal 
 happiness is not in their hands: they may kill your 
 bodies (if God permit them), but not your souls. 
 You need not solicit them to pardon your sins against 
 God. It is a small matter how you are judged of 
 by man. You have one that judgeth you, even the 
 Lord. No man can forgive sin, but God only. 
 O then how early, how earnestly should you cry to 
 him for mercy ! Pardon must be obtained now or 
 never. There is no justification for that man at the 
 day of judgment, that is not forgiven and justified 
 now. Blessed then is the man whose iniquity is 
 forgiven, whose sin is covered, and to whom it is not 
 imputed by the Lord. And wo to that man that 
 ever he was born, that is then found without the 
 pardon of his sins! Think of this as the case de- 
 serves, and then think if you can, that your daily 
 business with God is small. 
 
 5. Moreover, you have peace of conscience to 
 obtain: and that dependeth upon your peace with 
 God. Conscience will be your accuser, condemnor 
 and tormentor, if you make it not your friend, by 
 making God your friend. Consider what conscience 
 hath to say against you, and how certainly it will 
 speak home, when you would be loath to hear it: 
 and bethink you how to answer all its accusations, 
 and what will be necessary to make it a messenger 
 of peace; and then think your business with God to 
 be but small, if you are able. It is no easy matter 
 to get assurance that God is reconciled to you, and 
 that he hath forgiven all your sins. 
 
 6. In order to all this, you must be united to 
 
in 
 
 Jesus Christ, and be made his members, that you 
 may have part in him, and that he may wash you by 
 his blood, and that he may answer for you to his 
 Father ! wo to you if he be not your righteousness, 
 and if you have not him to plead your cause, and 
 take upon him your final justification ! None else 
 can save you from the wrath of God. And he is 
 the Saviour only of his body. He hath died for 
 you without your own consent, and he hath made a 
 universal conditional grant of pardon and salvation, 
 before you consented to it: but he will not be united 
 to you, nor actually forgive, and justify, and save 
 you, without your own consent: and tlierefore that 
 the Father may draw you to the Son, and may give 
 you Christ, and life in him, when all your hope de- 
 pendeth on it, you may see that you have more to 
 do with God, than your senseless hearts have 
 hitherto understood. 
 
 7. And that you may have a saving interest in 
 Jesus Christ, you must have sound repentance for 
 all your former life of wickedness, and a lively, 
 effectual faith in Christ: neither sin nor Christ must 
 be made light of. Repentance must tell you to the 
 very heart, that you have done foolishly in sinning, 
 and that it is an evil and a bitter thing that you for- 
 sook the Lord, and that his fear was not in you : 
 and thus your wickedness shall correct you and re- 
 prove you. And faith must tell you that Christ 
 is more necessary to you than food or life, and that 
 there is no other name given under heaven by which 
 you can be saved. And it is not so easy, nor so 
 common a thing to repent and believe, as ignorant 
 presumptuous sinners do imagine. It is a greater 
 
112 
 
 matter to have a truly humbled, contrite heart, and 
 to loathe yourselves for all your sins, and to loathe 
 those sins, and resolvedly give up yourselves to 
 Christ and to his Spirit for a holy life, than heart- 
 lessly and hypocritically to say, I am sorry, or, I 
 repent, without any true contrition or renovation. 
 And it is a greater matter to betake yourselves to 
 Jesus Christ as your only hope, to save you both 
 from sin and damnation, than barely through custom, 
 and the benefit of education, to say, I do believe in 
 Christ. I tell you it is so great a work to bring 
 you to sound repentance and faith, that it must be 
 done by the power of God himself. They are the 
 " gift of God;" you must have his Spirit to illumi- 
 nate you, and show you the odiousness of sin, the 
 intolerableness of the wrath of God, the necessity 
 and sufficiency, the power and willingness of Christ; 
 and to overcome all your prejudice, and save you 
 from false opinions and deceits; and to repulse the 
 temptations of Satan, the world and the flesh, which 
 will all rise up against you. All this must be done 
 to bring you home to Jesus Christ, or else you will 
 have no part in him, his righteousness and grace. 
 And can you think that you have not most impor- 
 tant business with God, who must do all this upon 
 you, or else you are undone for ever! 
 
 8. Moreover, you must have all the corruptions of 
 your natures healed, and your sins subdued, and 
 your hearts made new by sanctifying grace, and the 
 image of God implanted in you, and your lives made 
 holy and sincerely conformable to the will of God. 
 All this must be done, or you cannot be acceptable 
 to God, nor ever will be saved: though your carnal 
 
113 
 
 interest rise against it; though your old corrupted 
 natures be against it; though your custom, and plea- 
 sure, and worldly gain and honour be against it ; 
 though all your carnal friends and superiors be against 
 it; though the devil will do all that he can against it, 
 yet all this must be done or you are lost for ever: 
 and all this must be done by the Spirit of God; for 
 it is his work to make you new and holy: and can 
 you think then that the business is not great which 
 you have with God? When you have tried how 
 hard every part of this work is, to be begun and 
 carried on, you will find you have more to do with 
 God than with all the world. 
 
 ,9. Moreover, in order to this it is necessary that 
 you read, and hear, and understand the Gospel, 
 which must be the means of bringing you to God 
 by Christ: this must be the instrument of God, by 
 which he will bring you to repent and believe, and 
 by which he will renew your natures, and imprint 
 his image on you, and bring you to love him, and 
 obey his will. The word of God must be your 
 counsellor, and your delight, and you must set your 
 heart to it, and meditate in it day and night. Know- 
 ledge must be the means to reclaim your perverse, 
 misguided wills, and to reform your careless, crooked 
 lives, and to bring you out of the kingdom of dark- 
 ness, into the state of light and life. And such 
 knowledge cannot be expected without a diligent at- 
 tending to Christ, the teacher of your souls, and a 
 due consideration of the truth. By the time you 
 have learnt what is needful to be learnt for a true 
 conversion, a sound repentance, a saving faith, and a 
 holy life, you will find that you have far greater 
 business with God than with all the world. 
 
114^ 
 
 10. Moreover, for the attaining of all this mercy, 
 you have many a prayer to put up to God: you must 
 daily pray for the forgiveness of your sins, and deli- 
 verance from temptations, and even for your daily 
 bread, or necessary provisions for the work which 
 you have to do: you must daily pray for the supplies 
 of grace which you want, and for the gradual morti- 
 fication of the flesh, and for help in all the duties 
 which you must perform; and for strength against 
 all spiritual enemies which will assault you; and pre- 
 servation from the manifest evils which attend you: 
 and these prayers must be put up with unwearied 
 constancy, fervency and faith. Keep up this course 
 of fervent prayer, and beg for Christ, and grace, and 
 pardon, and salvation in any measure as they deserve, 
 and according to thy own necessity, and then tell me 
 whether thy business with God be small, and to be 
 put off as lightly as it is by the ungodly. 
 
 11. Moreover, you are made for the glory of 
 your Creator, and must apply yourselves wholly to 
 glorify him in the world: you must make his service 
 the trade and business of your lives, and not put 
 him off with something by the by. You are good 
 for nothing else but to serve him; as your clothes 
 are made to cover you, and your meat to feed you, 
 and your horse to labour for you; so you are made, 
 and redeemed, and maintained for this, to love and 
 please your great Creator. And can you think that 
 it is but little business that you have with him, when 
 he is the End and Master of your lives, and all you 
 are or have is for him? 
 
 12. And for the due performance of his service, 
 you have all his talents to employ. To this end it 
 
115 
 
 is that he hath entrusted you with reason, and health, 
 and strength; with time, and parts, and interest, and 
 weahh, and all his mercies, and all his ordinances 
 and means of grace; and to this end must you use 
 them, or you lose them : and must you give him an 
 account of all at last, whether you have improved 
 them all to your Master's use? And can you look 
 within you, without you, about you, and see how 
 much you are trusted with, and must be accountable 
 to him for, and yet not see how great your business 
 is with God? 
 
 13. Moreover, you have all the graces which you 
 shall receive to exercise; and every grace doth carry 
 you to God, and is exercised upon him, or for him. 
 It is God that you must study, and know, and love, 
 and desire, and trust, and hope in, and obey. It is 
 God that you must seek after, and delight in, so fat 
 as you enjoy him: it is his absence or displeasure 
 that must be your fear and sorrow: therefore the 
 soul is said to be sanctified when it is renewed, be- 
 cause it is both disposed and devoted unto God, 
 And therefore grace is called hoHness, because it all 
 disposeth, and carrieth the soul to God, and useth 
 it upon and for him. And can you think your 
 business with God is small, when you must live upon 
 him, and all the powers of your soul must be addict- 
 ed to him, and be in serious motion towards him? 
 and when he must be much more to you than the 
 air which you breathe in, or the earth you live upon, 
 or than the sun that gives you light and heat; yea, 
 than the soul is to your bodies? 
 
 14. Lastly, You have abundance of temptations 
 and impediments to watch and strive against, which 
 
116 
 
 would hinder you in the doing of all this work, and 
 a corrupt and treacherous heart to watch and keep in 
 order, which will be looking back and shrinking from 
 the service. Lay all this together, and then con- 
 sider whether you have not more and greater busi- 
 ness with God, than with all the creatures in the 
 world. 
 
 And if this be so, (as undeniably it is so,) is there 
 any cloak for that man's sin, who is all day taken 
 up with creatures, and thinks of God as seldom and 
 as carelessly as if he had no business with hira? 
 And yet, alas, if you take a survey of high and low, 
 of court, and city, and country, you shall find that 
 this is the case of no small number, yea of many 
 that observe it not to be their case; it is the case of 
 the profane that pray in jest, and swear, and curse, 
 and rail in earnest. It is the case of the malignant 
 enemies of holiness, that hate them at the heart that 
 are most acquainted with this converse with God, 
 and count it but hypocrisy, pride or fancy, and would 
 not suffer them to live upon the earth, who are most 
 sincerely conversant in heaven. It is the case of 
 Pharisees and hypocrites, who take up with cere- 
 monious observances, as, * touch not, taste not, 
 handle not,* and such like traditions of their fore- 
 fathers, instead of a spiritual, rational service, and a 
 holy, serious walking with the Lord. It is the case 
 of all ambitious men, and covetous worldlings, who 
 make more ado to climb up a little higher than their 
 brethren, and to hold the reins, and have their wills, 
 and be admired and adored in the world, or to get a 
 large estate for themselves and their posterity, than 
 to please their Maker, or to save their souls. It is 
 
117 
 
 the case of every sensual epicure, whose belly is his 
 god, and serveth his fancy, lust and appetite, before 
 the Lord. It is the case of every unsanctified man, 
 that seeketh first the prosperity of his flesh, before 
 the kingdom and righteousness of God, and is most 
 careful and laborious to lay up a treasure on earth, 
 and laboureth more (with greater estimation, resolu- 
 tion, and delight) for the meat that perisheth, than 
 for that which endureth to everlasting life. All 
 these (who are too great a part of the world, and 
 too great a part of professed Christians) are taken 
 up with creature converse; and yet think to escape 
 the deluge of God's displeasure, because the Enochs 
 and Noahs are so few who walk with God: and they 
 think God will not destroy so many: and thus they 
 think to be saved by their multitude, and to hide 
 themselves in the crowd from God. They will go 
 the wide and common path, and be of the mind that 
 most are of. They will not be convinced till most 
 men are convinced: that is, till wisdom come too 
 late, and cost them dearer than its worth. When 
 all men are convinced that God should have been 
 preferred before the world, and served before their 
 fleshly lusts, (as they will certainly and sadly be,) 
 then they will be convinced with the rest. When 
 all men understand that life was given them to have 
 done the work on which eternal lite dependeth, then 
 they will understand it with the rest. When all 
 men shall discern between the righteous and the 
 wicked, between those that €erve God, and those 
 that serve him not, then they will discern it with 
 the rest. They will know what their business was 
 in the world, and how much they had to do with 
 
118 
 
 God, when all men know it. But O how much 
 better for them had it been to have known it in time, 
 while knowledge might have done them better service, 
 than to make them feel the greatness of their sin 
 and folly, and the hopes which once they had of 
 happiness, and to help the sting of desperation con- 
 tinually to prick them at the heart. They would 
 not be of so " little a flock" as that to which it was 
 the " good pleasure" of God to "give the kingdom." 
 If you demand a reason of all this, their reason was 
 in their throats and bellies: they had fleshly appetites 
 and lusts, and thereby could relish fleshly pleasures; 
 but spiritual life and appetite they had none, and 
 therefore relished not spiritual things. Had Christ, 
 and holiness, and heaven, been as suitable to their 
 appetites, as the sweetness of their meat, and drink, 
 and lusts, and as suitable to their fantasies as their 
 worldly dignities and greatness were, they would 
 then have made a better choice. They would have 
 walked with God, if drunkenness, and gluttony, and 
 pride, and wantonness, and covetousness, and idle- 
 ness, had been the way in which they might have 
 walked with him. If these had been godliness, how 
 godly would they have been ! How certainly would 
 they have come to heaven if this had been the way! 
 To be idle, and proud, and fleshly, and worldly, is 
 what they love; and to be humble, and holy, and 
 heavenly, and mortified, is what they hate, and can- 
 not away with: and their love and hatred proceed 
 from their corrupt natures: and these are instead of 
 reason to them. Their strong apprehensions of a 
 present suitableness in fleshly pleasures to their ap- 
 petites, and of a present unsuitableness of a holy life, 
 
119 
 
 keep out all effectual apprehensions of the excel- 
 lencies of God, and of spiritual heavenly delights, 
 which cross them in the pleasures which they most 
 desire. 
 
 But yet (their appetites corrupting their under- 
 standings as well as their wills) they will not be mad 
 without some reason, nor reject their Maker and 
 their happiness without some reason, nor neglect 
 that holy work for which they were made, without 
 some reason. Let us hear then what it is. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 So?ne Objections Answered, 
 
 Object, 1. They say, " It is true that God hath 
 much to do with us, and for us, but it followeth not, 
 that we have so much to do with him, or for 
 him, as you would have us to believe; for he is ne- 
 cessarily good, and necessarily doth good ; and there- 
 fore will do so, whether we think of him or not. 
 The sun will not give over shining on me, though I 
 never think on it, or never pray to it, or give it 
 thanks. Nor doth God need any service that we 
 can do him, any more than the sun doth; nor is he 
 pleased any more in the praise of men, or in their 
 works." 
 
 Ans, I. It is most certain that God is good, as 
 necessarily as he is God ; but it is not true, that he 
 must necessarily do good to you, or other individual 
 persons; nor that he necessarily doth the good he 
 
120 
 
 doth them. As he is not necessitated to make 
 toads and serpents as happy as men, nor men as 
 ancrels, so he is not necessitated to save the devils or 
 damned souls, (for he will not save them.) And he 
 was under no greater a necessity to save you than 
 them. He was not necessitated to give you a being; 
 he could have passed you by, and caused others 
 to have possessed your room. As it was God's free- 
 will, and not any necessity, that millions more are 
 never born, that were in possibility of it; (for all that 
 is possible doth not come to pass;) so that you, and 
 millions more, were born, was not of necessity but of 
 the same free-will. And as God did not make you 
 of necessity, but of free-will, so he doth not neces- 
 sarily but freely justify, or sanctify, or save. If he 
 did it by necessity of nature, he would do it to all 
 as well as some; seeing all have a natural capacity 
 of grace, as well as those that receive it. God is 
 able to sanctify and save more, yea all, if it were his 
 will; and it is not for want of power or goodness 
 that he doth not. Millions of beings are possible, 
 which are not future. God doth not all the good 
 which he is able, but communicateth so much to his 
 several creatures as to his wisdom seemeth meet. 
 If the damned would be so presumptuous as to argue, 
 that, because God is able yet to sanctify and save 
 them, therefore he must do it of necessity of nature, 
 it would not be long before they should thus dispute 
 themselves out of their torments. God will not ask 
 leave of sinners to be God; their denying him to be 
 good, (that is to be God) because he complieth not 
 with their conceits and wills, doth but prove them to 
 be fools, and bad themselves* 
 
1^1 
 
 . Indeed, some sciolists, pretending to lecirning, 
 while they are ignorant of most obvious principles of 
 natural knowledge, have taught poor sinners to cheat 
 their souls with such dreams as these. They have 
 made themselves believe, that goodness in God is 
 nothing else but his benignity, or disposition to do 
 good. As if the creature were the ultimate end, 
 and all God's goodness but a means thereto: and so 
 God were the Alpha or first efficient, and yet the 
 creature the Omega, or '* finis uhimus:" and all thc- 
 goodness in God were to be estimated, and denomi- 
 nated, by its respect to the felicity of man; and so 
 the creature hath the best part of the Deity. Such 
 notions evidently show us, that lapsed man is pre- 
 dominantly selfish, and is become his own idol, and 
 is lost in himself, while he hath lost himself by his 
 loss of God. When we see how powerful his self- 
 interest is, both, with his intellect and will : even 
 men of great ingenuity, till sanctification hath re- 
 stored them to God, and taught them better to know 
 him and tliemselves, are ready to measure all good 
 or evil by their own interests; when yet common 
 reason would have told them, if they had not per- 
 verted it by pride and partial studies, that, short of 
 God, even among the creatures, there are many 
 things to be preferred before themselves, and their 
 own felicity. He is irrationally enslaved by self- 
 love, that cannot see that the happiness of the world, 
 or of his country, or of multitudes, is more to be 
 desired than his happiness alone; and that he ought 
 rather to choose to be annihilated, or to be miserable, 
 (if it were made a matter of his deliberation and 
 choice,) than to have the sun taken out of the firma- 
 F 35 
 
122 
 
 ment, or the world, or his country to be annihilated 
 or miserable. And God is infinitely above the 
 creature. 
 
 Object. But they say, " He needeth nothing to 
 make him happy, having no defect of happiness." 
 
 Ans. And what of that? Must it needs therefore 
 follow, that he made not all things for himself, but 
 for the creature finally? He is perfectly happy in 
 himself, and his will is himself; this will was fulfilled 
 when the world was not made, (for it was his will 
 that it should not be made till it was made,) and it 
 is fulfilled when it is made, and fulfilled by all that 
 comes to pass. And as the absolute simple good- 
 ness and perfection of God's essence is the greatest 
 good, the eternal immutable good, so the fulfilling 
 of his will is the ultimate end of all obedience. He 
 hath expressed himself to take pleasure in his works; 
 and in the holiness, obedience, and happiness, of his 
 chosen; and though pleasure be not the same thing 
 in God, as it is in man, (no more than will or 
 understanding is,) yet it is not nothing which God 
 expresseth by such terms, but something which we 
 have no fitter expression for; this pleasing of the 
 will of God being the end of all, even of our felicity, 
 is better than our felicity itself. 
 
 They that will maintain that God, who is natu- 
 rally and necessarily good, hath no other goodness 
 but his benignity, or aptness to do good to his 
 creatures, must needs also maintain that (God being 
 for the creature, and not the creature for God) the 
 creature is better than God, as being the ultimate 
 end of God himself, and the highest use of all his 
 goodness being but for the felicity of the creature. 
 
us 
 
 As also that God doth all the good that he is able, 
 (for natural necessary agents work " ad ultimum 
 posse;") and that all men shall be saved, and all 
 devils; and every worm and toad be equal to the 
 highest angel, or else that God is not able to do it. 
 And that he did thus make happy all his creatures 
 from eternity, (for natural, necessary agents work 
 always if they be not forcibly hindered;) and that 
 there never was such a thing as pain or misery, in 
 man or brute, or else that God was not able to pre- 
 vent it. But abundance of such odious consequences 
 must needs follow from the denying of the highest 
 good, which is God himself, and confessing none 
 but his efficient goodness. But some will be of- 
 fended with me, for being so serious in confuting 
 such an irrational, atheistical conceit, who know not 
 how far it prevaileth with an atheistical generation. 
 Be it known to you, careless sinners, that though 
 the sun will shine on you whether you think on it 
 or not, or love it, or thank it or not; and the fire 
 will warm you, whether you think on it or not, or 
 love it or not; yet God will not justify or save you, 
 whether you love him or think on him or not. God 
 doth not operate brutishly in your salvation, but 
 governeth you wisely, as rational creatures are to be 
 governed; and, therefore, will give you happiness as 
 a reward ; and therefore will not deal alike with 
 those that love him, and that love him not; that 
 seek him, and that seek him not; with the labourers 
 and the loiterers, the faithful and slothful servant. 
 Would you have us believe, that you know better 
 than God himself what pleaseth himself, or on what 
 terms he will give his benefits, and save men's souls? 
 F2 
 
124 
 
 or do you know his nature better than he knoweth 
 it, that you dare presume to say, because he needeth 
 not our love or duty, therefore they are not pleas- 
 ing to him! Then what hath God to do in go- 
 verning the world, if he be pleased and displeased 
 with notliing that men do, or with good and evil 
 actions equally? Though you cannot hurt him, 
 you shall find that he will hurt you, if you disobey 
 him ; and though you cannot make him happy by 
 your holiness, you shall find that he will not make 
 you happy without it. 
 
 And if he did work as necessarily as the sun doth 
 shine, according to your similitude, yet, 1. Even the 
 shining of the sun doth not illuminate the blind, 
 nor doth it make the seeds of thorns and nettles to 
 bring forth vines or roses, nor the gendering of frogs 
 to bring forth men; but it actuateth all things ac- 
 cording to the several natures of their powers. And 
 therefore how can you expect that an unbelieving 
 and unholy soul, should enjoy felicity in God, when 
 in that state they are incapable of it? 2. And if 
 the sun do necessarily illuminate any one, he must 
 necessarily be illuminated ; and if it necessarily 
 warm or quicken any thing, it must necessarily be 
 warmed and quickened; else you would assert con- 
 tradictions. So if God did necessarily save you, 
 and make you happy, you would necessarily be 
 saved and made happy. And that containeth essen- 
 tially your holiness, your loving, desiring, and seek"- 
 ing after God ; to be saved or happy without enjoy- 
 ing God bv love, or to love him and not desire 
 him, seek him, or obey him, are as great contradic- 
 tions, as to be illuminated without light, or quick- 
 
U5 4 
 
 ened without life. What way soever it be that 
 God conveyeth his sanctifying Spirit, I am sure 
 that " if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, the 
 same is none of his;" and that " without holiness 
 none shall see God;" and that if you will have the 
 kingdom of God, you must seek it first, preferring 
 it before all earthly things. And then, if all the 
 question that remaineth undecided be, whether God 
 do you wrong or not in damning you, or whether 
 God be good, because he will not save you when 
 he can, I shall leave you to him to receive satisfac- 
 tion, who will easily silence and confound your im- 
 pudence, and justify his works and laws. Prepare 
 your accusations against him, if you will needs insist 
 upon them, and try whether he or you shall prevail; 
 but remember that thou art a worm, and he is God, 
 and that he will be the only Judge when all is done; 
 and ignorance and impiety, that prate against him to 
 their own confusion, in the day of his patience, shall 
 not then usurp the throne. 
 
 Object, 2. " But how can God be fit for mortals 
 to converse with, when they see him not, and are 
 infinitely below him ?" 
 
 Ansiv. I hope you will not say that you have 
 nothing to do at home, with your own souls : and 
 yet you never saw your souls. And it is the souls, 
 the reason, and the will of men that you daily con- 
 verse with here in the world, more than their bodies, 
 and yet you never saw their souls, their reason or 
 their wills. If you have no higher light to discern 
 by than your eyesight, you are not men but beasts. 
 If you are men, you have reason ; and if you are 
 Christians, you have faith, by which you know 
 
126 
 
 things that you never saw. You have more de- 
 pendance on the things that are unseen than on those 
 which you see, and have much more to do with them. 
 
 And though God be infinitely above us; yet he 
 condescendeth to communicate to us according to 
 our capacities : as the sun is far from us, and yet 
 doth not disdain to enlighten, and warm, and quicken 
 a worm or fly here below. If any be yet so much 
 an atheist as to think that religious converse with 
 God is but a fancy, let him well answer me these few 
 questions. 
 
 Qiiest. 1. Doth not the continued being and well- 
 being of the creatures, tell us that there is a God 
 on whom (for being and well-being) they depend, 
 and from whom they are, and have whatsoever they 
 are, and whatsoever they have? And therefore that 
 passively all the creatures have more respect to him 
 by far, than to one another? 
 
 Qiiest. 2. Seeing God communicateth to every 
 creature according to their several capacities, is it 
 not meet then that he deal with man as man, even 
 as a creature rational, capable to know, and love, 
 and obey his great Creator, and to be happy in the 
 knowledge, love, and fruition of him? That man 
 hath such natural faculties, and capacities, is not to 
 be denied by a man that knoweth what it is to be a 
 man: and that God hath not given him these in 
 vain, will be easily believed by any that indeed be- 
 lieve that he is God. 
 
 Quest. 3. Is there any thing else that is finally 
 worthy of the highest actions of our souls? or that 
 is fully adequate to them, and fit to be our happiness? 
 If not, then we are left either to certain infelicity. 
 
1'27 
 
 contrary to the tendency of our natures, or else we 
 must seek our felicity in God. 
 
 Quest, 4. Is there any thing more certain than 
 tliat by the title of creation, our Maker hath a full 
 and absolute right to all that he hath made; and 
 consequently to all our love and obedience, our time, 
 and powers? For whom should they all be used 
 but for him from whom we have them ? 
 
 Quest, 5. Can any thing be more sure, than that 
 God is the righteous Governor of the world ? And 
 that he governeth man as a rational creature, by 
 laws and judgment? And can we live under his 
 absolute sovereignty, and under his many righteous 
 laws, and under his promises of salvation to the 
 justified, and under his threatenings of damnation 
 to the unjustified, and yet not have more to do with 
 God than with all the world? If indeed you think 
 that God doth not love and reward the holy and 
 obedient, and punish the ungodly and disobedient, 
 then either you take him not to be the Governor of 
 the world, or (which is worse) you take him to be 
 an unrighteous Governor: and then you must by 
 the same reason say, that magistrates and parents 
 should do so too, and love and reward the obedient 
 and disobedient alike : but if any man's disobedience 
 were exercised to your hurt, by slandering, or beat- 
 ing, or robbing you, I dare say you would not then 
 commend so indifferent and unjust a Governor. 
 
 Quest, 6. If it be not needless for man to labour 
 for food and raiment, and necessary provision for his 
 body, how can it be needless for him to labour for 
 the happiness of his soul? If God will not give us 
 our daily bread while we never think of it, or seek 
 
128 
 
 it, why should we expect that he will give us heaven 
 thouo-h we never think on it, value it, or seek it? 
 
 Quest. 7. Is it not a contradiction to be happy in 
 the fruition of God, and yet not to mind him, desire 
 him, or seek him? How is it that the soul can 
 reach its object, but by estimation, desire, and 
 seeking after it: and how should it enjoy it but by 
 loving it, and taking pleasure in it? 
 
 Qjiesf. 8. While you seem but to wrangle against 
 the duty of believers, do you not plead against the 
 comfort and happiness of believers? For surely the 
 employment of the soul on God (and for him) is the 
 health and pleasure of the soul; and to call away 
 the soul from such employment, is to imprison it in 
 the dungeon of this world, and to forbid us to smell 
 to the sweetest flowers, and confine us to a sink or 
 duncrhill, and to forbid us to taste of the food of 
 angels, or of men, and to offer us vinegar and gall, 
 or turn us over to feed with swine. He that pleadeth 
 that there is no such thing as real holiness and 
 communion with God, doth plead in effect that there 
 is no true felicity or delight for any of the sons af 
 men: a^id how welcome should ungodly atheists be 
 unto mankind, that would for ever exclude them all 
 from happiness, and make them believe they are aH 
 made to be remedilessly miserable? 
 
 And here take notice of the madness of the un- 
 thankful world, that hateth and persecuteth the 
 preachers of the gospel, that bring them the glad 
 tidings of pardon, and hope, and life eternal, of solid 
 happiness, and durable delight; and yet they are not 
 offended at these atheists and ungodly cavillers, that 
 would take them off from all that is truly good asd 
 
129 
 
 pleasant, and make them believe that nature hath 
 made them capable of no higher things than beasts, 
 and hath enthralled them in remediless infelicity. 
 
 Quest. 9. Do you not see, by experience, that 
 there are a people in the world whose hearts are 
 upon God, and the life to come, and that make it 
 their chiefest care and business to seek him and to 
 serve him? How then can you say that there is no 
 such thing, or that we are not capable of it, when it 
 is the case of so many before your eyes? If you 
 say that it is but their fancy or self-deceit: I answer, 
 that really their hearts are set upon God, and the 
 everlasting world, and that it is their chiefest care 
 and business to attain it; this is a thing that they 
 feel, and you may see in the bent and labour of 
 their lives ; and therefore you cannot call tliat a 
 fancy, of which you have so full experience : but 
 whether the motives that have invited them, and en- 
 gaged them to such a choice and course, be fancies and 
 deceits or not, let God be judge, and let the awakened 
 consciences of worldlings themselves be judge, when 
 they have seen the end, and tried vvhether it be earth 
 or heaven that is the shadow, and whether it be God 
 or their unbelieving hearts that was deceived. 
 
 Quest. 10. Have you any hopes of living with 
 God for ever, or not ? If you have not, no wonder 
 if you live as beasts, when you have no higher ex- 
 pectations than beasts. When we are so blind as to 
 give up all our hopes, we will also give up all our 
 care and holy diligence, and think we have nothing 
 to do with heaven. But if you have any such hopes, 
 can you think that any thing is fitter for the chiefest 
 of your thoughts and cares, than the God and king- 
 F3 
 
130 
 
 dom, which you hope for ever to enjoy? Or is 
 there any thing that can be more suitable, or should 
 be more delightful to your thoughts, than to employ 
 them about your highest hopes, upon your endless 
 happiness and joy? and should not that be now the 
 most noble and pleasant employment for your minds, 
 which is nearest to that which you hope to be exer- 
 cised in for ever? Undoubtedly he that hath true 
 and serious thoughts of heaven, will most highly 
 value that life on earth which is most like to the life 
 in heaven : and he that hateth, or is most averse to 
 that which is nearest to the work of heaven, does 
 boast in vain of his hopes of heaven. 
 
 By this time you may see (if you love not to be 
 blind) that man's chiefest business in the world is 
 with his God, and that our thoughts, and all our 
 powers, are made to be employed upon him, or for 
 him ; and that this is no such needless work as atheists 
 make themselves believe. 
 
 Remember that it is the description of the des- 
 perately wicked, that " God is not in all their 
 thoughts." And if yet you understand it not, I 
 will a little further show you the evil of such atheis- 
 tical, unhallowed thoughts. 
 
 I. There is nothing but darkness in all thy 
 thoughts, if God be not in them. Thou knowest 
 nothing, if thou knowest not him; and thou usest 
 not thy knowledge, if thou use it not on him. To 
 know the creature as without God, is to know no- 
 thing : no more than to know all the letters in the 
 book, and not to know their signification or sense. 
 All things in the world are but insignificant ciphers, 
 and of no other sense or use, if you separate them 
 
131 
 
 from God, who is their sense and end. If you 
 leave out God in all your studies, you do but dream 
 and dote, and not understand what you seem to 
 understand. Though you were taken for the most 
 learned men in the world, and were able to discourse 
 of all the sciences, and your thoughts had no lower 
 employment daily than the most sublime speculations 
 which the nature of all the creatures doth afford, it 
 is all but folly and impertinent dotage, if it reach not 
 unto God. 
 
 2. Yea, your thoughts are erroneous and false, 
 which is more than barely ignorant, if God be not 
 in them. You have false thoughts of the world, of 
 your houses and lands, and friends and pleasures, 
 and whatsoever is the daily employment of your 
 minds. You take them to be something, when 
 they are nothing; you are covetous of the empty 
 purse, and know not that you cast away the treasure. 
 You are thirsty after the empty cup, when you wil- 
 fully cast away the drink. You hungrily seek to 
 feed upon a painted feast. You murder the creature 
 by separating it from God, who is its life, and then 
 you are enamoured on the carcase; and spend your 
 days and thoughts in its cold embracements. Your 
 thoughts are but vagabonds, straggling abroad the 
 world, and following impertinencies, if God be not 
 in them. You are like men that walk up and down 
 in their sleep, or like those that have lost themselves 
 in the dark, who weary themselves in going they 
 know not whither, and have no end nor certain way. 
 
 3. If God be not in all your thoughts, they are 
 all in vain. They are like the drone that gathereth 
 no honey. They fly abroad and return home 
 
15€ 
 
 empty. They brtng home no matter of honour to 
 God, or profit or comfort to yourselves. They are 
 employed to no more purpose than in your dreams: 
 only they are more capable of sin: like the distracted 
 thoughts of one that doteth in a fever, they are all 
 but nonsense, whatever you employ them on, while 
 you leave out God, who is the sense of all. 
 
 4. If God be not in all your thoughts, they are 
 nothing but confusion. There can be no just unity 
 in them, because they forsake him who is the only 
 centre, and are scattered abroad upon incoherent 
 creatures. There can be no true unity but in God. 
 The further we go from him, the further we run 
 into divisions and confusions. There can be no 
 just method in them, because he is left out that is 
 the beginning and the end. They are not like a 
 well-ordered army, where every one is moved by the 
 will of one commander, and all know their colours 
 and their ranks, and unanimously agree to do their 
 work : but like a swarm of flies, that buzz about 
 they know not whither, nor why, nor for what. 
 There is no true government in your thoughts, if 
 God be not in them; they are masterless and va- 
 grants, and have no true order, if they be not or- 
 dered by him and to him ; if he be not their first and 
 last. 
 
 5. If God be not in all your thoughts, there is 
 no life in them: they are but like the motion of a 
 bubble, or a feather in the air: they are impotent as 
 to the resisting of any evil, and as to the doing of 
 any saving good: they have no strength in them, 
 because they are laid out upon objects that have no 
 strength: they have no quickening, renewing, re- 
 
133 
 
 forming, encouraging, resolving, confirming power 
 in them, because there is no such power in the things 
 on which they are employed: whereas the thoughts 
 of God and everlasting life can do wonders upon the 
 soul: they can raise up men above this world, and 
 teach them to despise the worldHng's idol, and look 
 upon all the pleasures of the flesh as upon a swine's 
 delight in wallowing in the mire. They can renew 
 the soul, and cast out tbe most powerful beloved sin, 
 and bring all our powers into the obedience of God, 
 and that with pleasure and delight: they can employ 
 us with the angels, in a heavenly conversation, and 
 show us the glory of the world above, and advance 
 us above the life of the greatest princes upon earth : 
 but the thoughts of earthly, fleshly things have 
 power indeed to delude men, and mislead them, and 
 hurry them about in a giddy motion; but no power 
 to support us, or subdue concupiscence, or heal our 
 folly, or save us from temptations, or reduce us from 
 our errors, or help us to be useful in the world, or 
 to attain felicity at last. There is no life, nor 
 power, nor efficacy in our thoughts, if God be not 
 in them. 
 
 6. There is no stability or fixedness in our 
 thoughts if God be not in them. They are like a 
 boat upon the ocean, tossed up and down with winds 
 and waves: the mutable uncertain creatures can yield 
 no rest or settlement to your minds. You are 
 troubled about many things; and the more you think 
 on them, and have to do with them, the more are 
 you troubled: but you forget the one thing neces- 
 sary, and fly from the eternal rock, on which you 
 must build, if ever you will be established. While 
 
1345 
 
 the creature is in your thought instead of God, you 
 will be one day deluded with its unwholesome plea- 
 sure, and the next day feel it gripe you at the heart : 
 one day it will seem your happiness, and the next 
 you will wish you had never known it: that which 
 seemeth the only comfort of your lives this year, 
 may the next year make you weary of your lives. 
 One day you are impatiently desiring and seeking 
 it, as if you could not live without it: and the next 
 day, or ere long, you are impatiently desiring to be 
 rid of it. You are now taking in your pleasant 
 morsels, and drinking down your delicious draughts, 
 and jovially sporting it with your inconsiderate com- 
 panions; but how quickly will you be repenting of 
 all this, and complaining of your folly, and vexing 
 yourselves, that you took not warning, and made not 
 a wiser choice in time? The creature was never 
 made to be our end, or rest, or happiness: and there- 
 fore you are but like a man in a wilderness or maze, 
 that may go and go, but knoweth not whither, and 
 findeth no end, till you come home to God, who 
 only is your proper end, and make him the Lord, 
 and life, and pleasure of your thoughts. 
 
 7. As there is no present fixedness in your 
 thoughts, so the business and pleasure of them will 
 be of very short continuance, if God be not the chief 
 in all. And who would choose to employ his 
 thoughts on such things as he is sure they must soon 
 forget, and never more have any business with to all 
 eternity? You shall think of those houses, and 
 lands, and friends, and pleasures, but a little while, 
 unless it be with repenting, tormenting thoughts, in 
 the place of misery: you will have no delight to 
 
135 
 
 think of any thing, which is now most precious to 
 your flesh, when once the flesh itself decays, and is 
 no more capable of delight. " His breath goeth 
 forth, he returneth to his earth; in that very day his 
 thoughts perish." 
 
 Call in your thoughts then from these transitory 
 things, that have no consistency or continuance, and 
 turn them unto him with whom they may find ever- 
 lasting employment and delight. Remember not 
 the enticing baits of sensuality and pride, but " Re- 
 member now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, 
 while the evil days come not, nor the years draw 
 nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in 
 them." 
 
 8. Thy thoughts are but sordid, dishonourable 
 and low, if God be not the chiefest in them. They 
 reach no higher than the habitation of beasts; nor 
 do they attain to any sweeter employment than to 
 meditate on the felicity of a brute. Thou choosest 
 with the fly to feed on dung, when thou mightest 
 have free access to God himself, and mightest be 
 entertained in the court of heaven, and welcomed 
 thither by the holy angels. Thou wallowest in the 
 mire with the swine, or diggest thyself a house in 
 the earth, as worms and moles do, when thy 
 thoughts might be soaring up to God, and might be 
 taken up with high and holy, and everlasting things. 
 What if your thoughts were employed for prefer- 
 ment, wealth, and honour in the world? Alas! 
 what silly things are these, in comparison of what 
 your souls are capable of ! You will say so your- 
 selves when you see how they will end, and fail your 
 expectations. Imprison not your minds in this in- 
 
136 
 
 fernal cell, when the supeiior regions are open to 
 their access : confine them not to this narrow vessel 
 of the body, whose tossings and dangers on these 
 boisterous seas will make them restless, and disquiet 
 them with tumultuous passions, when they may 
 safely land in Paradise, and there converse with 
 Christ. God made you men, and if you reject not 
 his grace, will make you saints: make not yourselves 
 like beasts. God gave you souls that can step in a 
 moment from earth to heaven, and there foretaste 
 the endless joys : do not you stick then fast in clay, 
 and fetter them with worldly cares, or intoxicate 
 them with fleshly pleasures, nor employ them in the 
 worse than childish toys of ambitious, sensual, 
 worldly men. Your thoughts have manna, angels' 
 food, provided them by God : if you will loathe this 
 and refuse it, and choose with the serpent to feed on 
 the dust, God shall be judge, and your consciences 
 one day shall be more faithful witnesses, whether 
 vou have dealt like wise men or like fools; like 
 friends or enemies to yourselves ; and whether you 
 have not chosen baseness, and denied yourselves the 
 advancement which was offered you. 
 
 9. If God be not the chiefest in your thoughts, 
 they are no better than dishonest and unjust. You 
 are guilty of denying him his own. He made not 
 your minds for lust and pleasure, but for himself. 
 You expect that your cattle, your goods, your ser- 
 vants, be employed for yourselves, because they are 
 your own. But God may call your minds his own 
 by a much fuller title: for you hold all but derivatively 
 and dependently from him. What will you call it 
 but injustice and dishonesty, if your wife, or chil- 
 
137 
 
 dren, or servants, or goods, be more at the use and 
 service of others, than of you? If any can show a 
 better title to your thoughts than God doth, let him 
 have thera; but if not, deny him not his own. O 
 straggle not so much from home; for you will be no 
 where else so well as there. Desire not to follow 
 strangers, you know not whither, nor for what; you 
 have a Master of your own, that will be better to 
 you than all the strangers in the world. Bow not 
 down to creatures, that are but images of the true 
 and solid good: commit not idolatry or adultery with 
 them in your thoughts: remember still that God 
 stands by: bethink you how he will take it at your 
 hands; and how it will be judged of at last, when he 
 pleads his right, his kindness, and solicitations of 
 you; and you have so little to say for any pretence 
 of right or merit in the creature. Why are not men 
 ashamed of the greatest dishonesty against God, 
 when all that have any humility left them, do take 
 adultery, theft, and other dishonesty against crea- 
 tures, for a shame? The time will come when God 
 and his interest shall be better understood, when this 
 dishonesty against him will be matter of the most 
 confounding shame that ever did or could befal men. 
 Prevent this by the juster exercise of your thoughts, 
 and keeping them pure and chaste to God. 
 
 10. If God be not in your thoughts (and the 
 chiefest in them) there will be no matter in them of 
 solid comfort or content. Trouble and deceit will 
 be all their work : when they have fled about the 
 earth, and taken a taste of every flower, they will 
 come loaden home with nothing better than vanity 
 and vexation. Such thoughts may excite the 
 
138 
 
 laughter of a fool, and cause that mirth that is 
 called madness; but they will never conduce to set- 
 tled peace, and durable content : and therefore they 
 are always repented of themselves, and are trouble- 
 some to our review, as being the shame of the sin- 
 ner, which he would fain be cleared of, or disown. 
 Though you may approach the creature with pas- 
 sionate fondness and the most delightful promises 
 and hopes, be sure of it, you will come off at last 
 with grief and disappointment, if not with the loath- 
 ing of that which you chose for your delight. 
 Your thoughts are in a wilderness amoncr thorns 
 
 O O 
 
 and briars, when God is not in them as their guide 
 and end : they are lost and torn among the crea- 
 tures; but rest and satisfaction they will find none. 
 It may be at the present it is pleasanter to you to 
 think of recreation, or business, or worldly wealth, 
 than to think of God; but the pleasure of these 
 thoughts is as delusory and short-lived, as are the 
 things themselves on which you think. How long 
 will you think with pleasure on such fading transi- 
 tory things ? And the pleasure cannot be greater 
 at the present, which reacheth but the flesh and 
 fantasy, and which the possessed knoweth will be 
 but short. Nay, you will shortly find by sad ex- 
 perience, that of all the creatures under heaven, 
 there will be none so bitter to your thoughts, as 
 those in which you novv find greatest carnal sweet- 
 ness. O how bitter will the thought of idolized 
 honour, and abused wealth and greatness be, to a 
 dying or a damned Dives ! The thoughts of that 
 alehouse or playhouse where thou hadst thy greatest 
 pleasure, will trouble thee more than the thoughts 
 
139 
 
 of all the houses in the town besides ! The thoughts 
 of that one woman with whom thou didst commit 
 thy pleasant sin, will wound and vex thee more than 
 the thoughts of all the women in the town besides! 
 The thoughts of that beloved sport which thou 
 couldst not be weaned from, will be more trouble- 
 some to thee than the thoughts of a thousand other 
 things in which thou hadst no inordinate delight ! 
 For the end of sinful mirth is sorrow. When So- 
 lomon had tried to please himself to the full, in 
 mirth, in buildings, vineyards, woods, waters, in 
 servants, and possessions, silver, and gold, and cat- 
 tle, and singers, and instruments of music of all 
 sorts, in greatness, and all that the eye or appetite 
 or heart desired; he findeth when he awaked from 
 this pleasant dream, that he had all this while been 
 taken up with vanity and vexation, in so much that 
 he saith on the review, " Therefore I hated life, 
 because the work that is wrought under the sun is 
 grievous to me, for all is vanity and vexation of 
 spirit : yea, I hated all my labour which I had 
 taken under the sun." You may toil out and tire 
 yourselves among these briars, in this barren wilder- 
 ness; but if ever you would feel any solid ground 
 of quietness and rest, it must be by coming off from 
 vanity, and seeking your felicity in God, and living 
 sincerely for him and upon him, as the woriding 
 doth upon the world. His pardoning mercy must 
 begin your peace, forgiving you your former 
 thoughts; and his healing, quickening mercy must 
 increase it, by teaching you better to employ your 
 thoughts, and drawing up your hearts to himself; 
 and his glorifying mercy must perfect it, by giving 
 
140 
 
 you the full intuition and fruition of himself in 
 heaven, and employing you in his perfect love and 
 praise, not leaving any room for creatures, nor suf- 
 fering a thought to be employed on vanity for ever. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Inquiry into our Walking with God. 
 
 By this time 1 hope you may see reason to call 
 yourselves to a strict account, what converse you 
 have been taken up with in the world, and upon 
 what you have exercised your thoughts. Surely 
 you must needs be conscious, that the thoughts 
 which have been denied God, have brought you 
 home but little satisfaction, and have not answered 
 the ends of your creation, redemption, or preserva- 
 tion ! and that they are now much ^fitter matter for 
 your penitential tears, than your comfort, in the 
 review ! I do not think you dare own, and stand to 
 those thoughts which have been spent for fleshly 
 pleasures, or in unnecessary worldly cares, or that 
 were wasted in impertinent vagaries upon any thing, 
 or nothing, when you should have been seeking 
 Godl I do not think you have now any great 
 pleasure, in the review of those thoughts, which 
 once were taken up with pleasure, when your 
 most pleasant thoughts should have been of God. 
 Dare you approve of your rejecting your Creator, 
 and the great concerns of your soul, out of your 
 
141 
 
 thoughts, and wasting them upon things unprofitable 
 and vain? Did not God and heaven deserve more 
 of your serious thoughts than any thing else that 
 ever they were employed on ? Have you laid them 
 out on any thing that more concerned you ? or on 
 any thing more excellent, more honourable, more 
 durable, or that could claim precedency upon any just 
 account? Did you not shut heaven itself out of 
 your thoughts, when you shut out God? And 
 is it not just that God and heaven should shut out 
 you ? If heaven be not the principal matter of 
 your thoughts, it is plain that you do not principally 
 love it: and if so, judge you whether those that love 
 it not arc fit to be made possessors of it. 
 
 O poor distracted senseless world ! Is not God 
 great enough to command and take up your chiefest 
 thoughts? Is not heaven enough to find them 
 work, and afford them satisfaction and delight? 
 And yet is the dung and dotage of the world 
 enough ? Is your honour, and wealth, and fleshly 
 delights, and sports enough ? God will shortly 
 make you know, whether this were wise and equal 
 dealing! Is God so low, so little, so undeserving, 
 to be so oft and easily forgotten, and so hardly, and 
 so slightly remembered ? I tell you, ere long he 
 will make you think of him to your sorrow, whether 
 you will or no, if grace do not now set open your 
 hearts, and procure him better entertainment. 
 
 But perhaps you wiil think that you walk with 
 God because you think of him sometimes ineffectually, 
 and as by the by. But is he esteemed as your God, 
 if he have not the command, and if he have not the 
 precedency of his creatures ! Can you dream that in- 
 
142 
 
 deed vou walk with God, when your hearts were 
 never grieved for offending him, nor never much 
 solicitous how to be reconciled to him; nor much in- 
 quisitive whether your state or way be pleasing or 
 displeasing to him ! When all the business of an 
 unspeakable importance, which you have to do with 
 God, before you pass to judgment, is forgotten and 
 undone, as if you knew not of any such M'ork that 
 you had to do ! When you make no serious pre- 
 paration for death, when you call not upon God in 
 secret, or in your families, unless with a little heart- 
 less lip labour; and when you love not the spirit- 
 uality of his worship, but only delude your souls 
 with the mockage of hypocritical outside compli- 
 ment. Do you walk with God while you are plot- 
 ting for preferment, and gaping after worldly great- 
 ness; while you are gratifying all the desires of your 
 flesh, and making provision for the future satisfac- 
 tion of its lusts? Are you walking with God when 
 you are hating him in his holiness, his justice, his 
 word and ways, and hating all that seriously love and 
 seek him ; when you are doing your worst to des- 
 patch the work of your damnation, and put your 
 salvation past all hope, and draw as many to hell 
 with you as you can? If this be a walking with 
 God, you may take farther comfort that you shall 
 also dwell with God, according to the sense of such 
 a walk; you shall dwell with him as a devouring 
 fire, and as just, whom you thus walked with in the 
 contempt of his mercies, and the provocation of his 
 justice. 
 
 I tell you, if you walk with God indeed, his 
 authority would rule you, his greatness would much 
 
143 
 
 take up your minds, and leave less room for little 
 things ; you would trust his promises, and fear his 
 threatenings, and be awed by his presence, and the 
 idols of your hearts would fall before him; he would 
 overpower your lusts, and call you off from your 
 ambitious and covetous designs, and obscure all the 
 creature's glory. Believing, serious, effectual 
 thoughts of God, are very much different from the 
 common, doubtful, dreaming, ineffectual thoughts of 
 the ungodly world. 
 
 Object, " But, (perhaps some will say,) this seera- 
 eth to be the work of preachers, and not of every 
 Christian, to be always meditating of God: poor 
 people must think of other matters: they have their 
 business to do, and their families to provide for: 
 and ignorant people are weak-headed, and are not 
 able either to manage or endure a contemplative life. 
 So much thinking of God will make them melancholy 
 and mad, as experience tells us it hath done by many: 
 and therefore this is no exercise for them." 
 
 To this I answer, 1. Every Christian hath a 
 God to serve, and a soul to save, and a Christ to 
 believe in and obey, and an endless happiness to 
 secure and enjoy, as well as preachers. Pastors 
 must study to instruct their flock, and to save them- 
 selves, and those that hear them. The people must 
 study to understand and receive the mercy offered 
 them, and to make their calling and election sure. 
 It is not said of pastors only, but of every blessed 
 man, that " his delight is in the law of the Lord, 
 and therein doth he meditate day and night." 2. 
 And the due meditation of the soul upon God, is so 
 far from taking you off from your necessary business 
 
144 
 
 in the world, that it is the only way to your orderly 
 and successful management of it. 3. And it is not 
 a' distracting thoughtfulness that I persuade you to, 
 or which is included in a Christian's walk with God; 
 but it is a directing, quickening, exalting, comfort- 
 ing course of meditation. Many a hundred have 
 grown melancholy and mad with careful, discontented 
 thoughts of the world; it doth not follow therefore 
 that no man must think of the world at all, for fear 
 of being mad or melancholy; but only that they 
 should think of it more regularly, and correct the 
 error of their thoughts and passions. So is it about 
 God and heavenly things. Our thoughts are to be 
 well ordered, and the error of them cured, and not 
 the use of them forborne. Atheism and impiety, 
 and forgetting God, are unhappy means to prevent 
 melancholy. There are wiser means for avoiding 
 madness, than by renouncing all our reason, and 
 living by sense, like the beasts that perish, and for- 
 getting that we have an everlasting life to live. 
 
 But yet because I am sensible that some do here 
 mistake on the other hand, and I would not lead 
 you into any extreme, I shall fully remove the 
 scruple contained in this objection, by showing you 
 in the following propositions, in what sense, and how 
 far your thoughts must be taken up with God (sup- 
 posing what was said in the beginning, where I de- 
 scribed to you the duty of walking with God.) 
 
 Prop. 1. When we tell you that your thoughts 
 must be on God, it is not a course of idle musing, 
 or mere thinking, that we call you to, but it is a 
 necessary practical thinking of that which you have 
 to do, and of him that you must love, obey and en- 
 
145 
 
 joy. You will not forget your parents, or husband, 
 or wife, or friend; and yet you will not spend your 
 time in sitting still and thinking of them, with a 
 musing unprofitable thoughtfulness : but you will 
 have such thoughts of them, and so many as are 
 necessary to the ends, even to the love and service 
 which you owe them, and to the delight^hat your 
 hearts should have in the fruition of them. You 
 cannot love, or obey, or take pleasure in those that 
 you will not think of: you will follow your trades, 
 or your master's service but unhappily, if you will 
 not think on them. Thinking is not the work that 
 we must take up with: it is but a subservient, in- 
 strumental duty, to promote some greater, higher 
 duty: therefore we must think of God, that we may 
 love him, and do his service, and trust him, and fear, 
 and hope in him, and make him our delight. And 
 all this is it that we call you to, when we are per- 
 suading you to think on God. 
 
 2. A hypocrite, or a wicked enemy of God, may 
 think of him speculatively, and perhaps be more fre- 
 quent in such thoughts than many practical believers. 
 A learned man may study about God, as he doth 
 about other matters, and names, and notions; and 
 propositions and decisions concerning God, may be 
 a principal part of his learning. A preacher may 
 study about God, and the matters of God, as a phy- 
 sician or a lawyer does about matters of their own 
 profession, either for the pleasure which knowledge, 
 as knowledge, brings to human nature, or for the 
 credit of being esteemed wise and learned, or because 
 their gain and maintenance comes in this way. 
 They that fill many volumes with controversies con- 
 G 35 
 
146 
 
 cerning God, and fill the church with contentions 
 and troubles by them, and their own heart with 
 malice and uncharitableness against those that are 
 not of their opinions, have many and many a thought 
 of God, which yet will do nothing to the saving of 
 their souls, no more than they do to the sanctifying 
 of them.* And such learned men may think more 
 orthodoxly and methodically concerning God, than 
 manv an honest, serious Christian, who yet thinks 
 of him more effectually and savingly: even as they 
 can discourse more orderly and copiously of God, 
 when yet they have no saving knowledge of him. 
 
 3. All men must not bestow so much time in 
 meditation as some must do: it is the calling of 
 ministers to study so as to furnish their minds with 
 all those truths concerning God, which are needful 
 to the edification of the church; and so to meditate 
 on these things as to give themselves wholly to them. 
 It is both the work of their common and their special 
 calling. The study necessary to Christians as such, 
 belonseth as well to others as to them: but other 
 men have another special or particular calling, which 
 also they must think of, so far as the nature and 
 ends of their daily labours require. It is a hurtful 
 error to imagine that men must either lay by their 
 callings to meditate on God, or that they must do 
 them negligently, or to be taken up in the midst of 
 their employments with such studies of God as minis- 
 ters are, that are separated to that work. 
 
 4. No man is bound to be continually taken up 
 with actual, distinct thoughts of God: for in duty 
 we have many other things to think on, which must 
 have their time; and as we have callings to follow, 
 
147 
 
 and must eat our bread in the sweat of our brows, 
 so we must manage them with prudence. " A good 
 man will guide his afFairs with discretion." It is both 
 necessary as a duty, and necessary as a means to the 
 preservation of our very faculties, that both body and 
 mind have their times of employment about our 
 lawful business in the world. The understandinofs 
 of many cannot bear it, to be always employed on 
 the greatest and most serious things: like lutestrijigs, 
 they will break if they be raised too high, and be 
 not let down and relaxed when the lesson is played. 
 To think of nothing else but God, is to break the 
 law of God, and to confound the mind, and to dis- 
 able it to think aright of God, or any thing. As 
 he that bids us pray continually, did not mean that 
 we should do nothing else, or that actual prayer 
 should have no interruptions, but that habitual de- 
 sires should on all meet occasions be actuated and 
 expressed; so he that would be chief in all their 
 thoughts, did never mean that we should have no 
 thoughts of any thing else, or that our serious medi- 
 tation on him should be continual without interrup- 
 tion; but that the final intending of God, and our de- 
 pendance on him, should be so constant as to be the 
 spring or mover of the rest of the thoughts and ac- 
 tions of our lives. 
 
 5. An habitual, intending God as our end, and 
 depending on his support, and subjection to his 
 government, will carry on the soul in a sincere and 
 constant course of godliness, though the. actual most 
 observed thoughts of the soul, be fewer in number 
 about God, than about the means that lead to him, 
 and the occurrences in our way. The soul of man 
 G2 
 
148 
 
 is very active and comprehensive, and can think of 
 several things at once; and when it is once clear and 
 resolved in any case, it can act according to that 
 knowledge and resolution, without any present sen- 
 sible thought; nay, while its actual, most observed 
 thoughts are upon something else. A musician, that 
 hath an habitual skill, can keep time and tune while 
 he is thinking of some other matter. A weaver 
 can cast his shuttle right, and work truly, while he 
 is thinking or talking of other things. A man can 
 eat and drink with discretion, while he talks of other 
 thincrs. Some men can dictate to two or three 
 scribes at once, upon divers subjects. A traveller 
 can keep on his way, though he seldom think dis- 
 tinctly of his journey's end, but be thinking or dis- 
 coursing most of the way upon other matters: for 
 before he undertook his journey he thought both of 
 the end and way, and resolved then which way to go, 
 and that he would go through all both fair and foul, 
 and not turn back till he saw the place. And this 
 habitual understanding and resolution may be se- 
 cretly and unobservedly active, so as to keep a man 
 from erring, and from turning back, though at the 
 same time the traveller's most sensible thoughts and 
 his discourse may be upon something else. When 
 a man is once resolved of his end, and hath laid his 
 desion, he is past deliberating of that, and therefore 
 hath less use of his thoughts about it; but is readier 
 to lay them out upon the means, which may be still 
 uncertain, or may require his frequent deliberation. 
 We have usually more thoughts and speeches by 
 the way, about our company, or our horses, or inns, 
 or other accommodations, or the fairness or foul- 
 
149 
 
 ness of the way, or other such occurrences, than we 
 have about the place we are going to: and yet this 
 secret intention of our end will bring us thither. So 
 when a soul hath cast up his accounts, and hath re- 
 nounced a worldly, sensual felicity, and hath fixed 
 his hopes and resolution upon heaven, and is resolved 
 to cast himself upon Christ, and take God for his 
 only portion, this secret habitual resolution will do 
 much to keep him constant in the way, though his 
 thoughts and talk be frequently on other things : yea, 
 when we are thinking of the creature, and feel no ac- 
 tual thoughts of God, it is yet God more than the 
 creature that we think of: for we did beforehand look 
 on the creature as God's work, representing him to 
 the world, and as his talents, which we must employ 
 for him, and as every creature is related to him ; and 
 this estimation of the creature is still habitually (and 
 in some secret less-perceived act) most prevalent in 
 the soul. Though I am not always sensibly think- 
 ing of the king, when I use his coin, or obey his laws, 
 &c. yet it is only as his coin still that I use it, and 
 as his laws that I obey them. Weak habits cannot 
 do their work without great carefulness of thoughts; 
 but perfect habits will act a man with little thought- 
 fulness, as coming near the natural way of operation. 
 And indeed the imperfection of our habitual godli- 
 ness doth make our serious thoughts, and vigilancy, 
 and industry to be the more necessary to us. 
 
 6. There are some thoughts of God that are ne- 
 cessary to the very being of a holy state ; as that 
 God be so much in our thoughts, as to be preferred 
 before all things else, and principally beloved and 
 obeyed; and to the end of our lives, and the bias of 
 
150 
 
 our wills. And there are some thoughts of God 
 that are necessary only to the acting and increase of 
 grace. 
 
 7. So great is the weakness of our habits, so 
 many and great are the temptations to be overcome, 
 so many difficulties are in our way, and the oc- 
 casions so various for the exercise of each grace, 
 that it behoveth a Christian to exercise as much 
 thoughtfulness about his end and work, as hath any 
 tendency to promote his work, and to attain his endj 
 but such a thoughtfulness as hindereth us in our 
 work, by stopping, or distracting, or diverting us, is 
 no way pleasing unto God. So excellent is our 
 end. that we can never encourage and delight the 
 mind too much in the forethoughts of it. So slug- 
 gish are our hearts, and so loose and unconstant 
 are our apprehensions and resolutions, that we have 
 need to be most frequently quickening them, and 
 lifting at them, and renewing our desires, and sup- 
 pressing the contrary desires, by the serious thoughts 
 of God and immortality. Our thoughts are the 
 bellows that must kindle the flames of love, de- 
 sire, hope and zeal. Our thoughts are the spur 
 that must put on a sluggish, tired heart. And 
 so far as they conduce to any such works and ends 
 as these, they are desirable and good. But what 
 master loveth to see his servant sit down and think 
 when he should be at work? or to use his thoughts 
 only to grieve and vex himself for his faults, but not 
 to mend them? to sit down lamenting that he is 
 so bad and unprofitable a servant, when he should 
 be up and doing his master's business as well as he 
 is able? Such thoughts as hinder us from duty, or 
 
151 
 
 discourage, or unfit us for it, are real sins, however 
 they may go under a better name. 
 
 8. The godly themselves are very much wanting 
 in the holiness of their thoughts, and the liveliness 
 of their affections. Sense leadeth away the thoughts 
 too easily after these present sensible things ; while 
 faith being infirm, the thoughts of God and heaven are 
 much disadvantaged by their invisibility. Many a 
 gracious soul crieth out, O that I could think as 
 easily, and as affectionately, and as unweariedly 
 about the Lord, and the life to come, as I can do 
 about ray friends, my health, my habitation, my 
 business, and other concerns of this life ! But, 
 alas ! such thoughts of God and heaven have far 
 more enemies and resistance than the thoughts of 
 earthly matters have. 
 
 9. It is not distracting, vexatious thoughts of 
 God, that the Holy Scriptures call us to; but it is 
 to such thoughts as tend to the healing, and peace, 
 and felicity of the soul; and therefore it is not a 
 melancholy, but a joyful life. If God be better 
 than the world, it must needs be better to think of 
 him. If he be more beloved than any friend, the 
 thoughts of him should be sweeter to us. If he be 
 the everlasting hope and happiness of the soul, it 
 should be a foretaste of happiness to find him nearest 
 to our hearts. The nature and use of holy thoughts, 
 and of all religion, is but to exalt and sanctify and 
 delight the soul, and bring it up to everlasting rest. 
 And is this the way to melancholy or madness? 
 Or is it not more likely to make men melancholy, 
 to think of nothing but a vain, deceitful and vexa- 
 tious world, that hath much to disquiet us, but no- 
 
152 
 
 thing to satisfy us, and can give the soul no hopes 
 of any durable delight ? 
 
 10. Yet as God is not equally related to all, so 
 
 is he not the same to all men's thoughts. If a 
 
 wicked enemy of God and godliness be forced and 
 
 frightened into some thoughts of God, you cannot 
 
 expect that they should be as sweet and comfortable 
 
 thoughts, as those of his most obedient children are. 
 
 While a man is under the guilt and power of his 
 
 reigning sin, and under the wrath and curse of 
 
 God, unpardoned, unjustified, a child of the devil, 
 
 it is not this man's duty to think of God, as if he 
 
 were fully reconciled to him, and took pleasure in him 
 
 as in his own. Nor is it any wonder if such a 
 
 man think of God with fear, and think of his sin 
 
 with grief and shame. Nor is it any wonder the 
 
 justified themselves do think of God with fear and 
 
 grief, when they have provoked him by some sinful 
 
 and unkind behaviour, or are cast into doubts of 
 
 their sincerity and interest in Christ, and when he 
 
 hides his face or assaulteth them with his terrors. 
 
 To doubt whether a man shall live for ever in 
 
 heaven or hell, may rationally trouble the thoughts 
 
 of the wisest man in the world ; and it were but 
 
 sottishness not to be troubled at it: David himself 
 
 could say, " In the day of my trouble I sought the 
 
 Lord; my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my 
 
 soul refused to be comforted. I remembered God, 
 
 and was troubled: I complained, and my spirit was 
 
 overwhelmed. Thou boldest mine eyes waking: I 
 
 am so troubled that I cannot speak. Will the 
 
 Lord cast oiF for ever ?" 
 
 Yet all the sorrowful thoughts of God, which are 
 
153 
 
 the duty either of the godly or the wicked, are but 
 necessary preparatives of their joy. It is not to 
 melancholy, distraction or despair, that God calleth 
 any, even the worst: but it is that the wicked would 
 " Seek the Lord while he may be found, and call 
 upon him while he is near; that he would forsake 
 his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and 
 return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon 
 him ; and to our God, and he will abundantly par- 
 don." Despair is sin ; and the thoughts that tend 
 to it are sinful thoughts, even in the wicked. If 
 worldly crosses, or the sense of danger to the soul 
 had cast any into melancholy, or overwhelmed them 
 with fears, you can name nothing in the world that 
 in reason should be so powerful a remedy to recover 
 them, as the thoughts of God, his goodness, and 
 mercy, and readiness to receive and pardon those 
 that turn unto him, his covenant, and promises, and 
 grace, through Christ, and the everlasting happiness 
 which all may have that will accept and seek it in the 
 time of grace, and prefer it before the deceitful transi- 
 tory pleasures of the world. If the thoughts of God, 
 and of the heavenly, everlasting joys will not comfort 
 the soul, and cure a sad, despairing mind, I know 
 not what can rationally do it. Though yet it is 
 true that a presumptuous sinner must needs be in a 
 trembling state, till he find himself at peace with 
 God : and mistaken Christians, that are cast into 
 causeless doubts and fears, by the malice of Satan, 
 are unlikely to walk comfortably with God, till they 
 are resolved and recovered from their mistakes and 
 fears. 
 
 G3 
 
CHAP. VII. 
 
 JVe must Walk with God in our Tho2ighis. 
 
 Object. But it may be the objector will be ready 
 to think, that " If it be indeed our duty to walk 
 with God, yet thoughts are no considerable part of 
 it. What more uncertain or mutable than our 
 thoughts ? It is deeds and not thoughts that God 
 regardeth. To do no harm to any, but to do good 
 to all, this is indeed to walk with God. You set a 
 man upon a troublesome and impossible work, while 
 you set him upon so strict a guard, and so much ex- 
 ercise of his thoughts. What cares the Almighty 
 for my thoughts?" 
 
 Ans'xso. 1. If God knows better than you, and be 
 to be believed, then thoughts are not so inconsider- 
 able as you suppose. Doth he not say, that " the 
 thouo"hts of the wicked are an abomination to the 
 Lord ?" It is the work of the Gospel by its power, to 
 "pull down strong holds, casting down imaginations, 
 and every high thing that exalteth itself against the 
 knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every 
 thought to the obedience of Christ." The unrigh- 
 teous man's forsaking his thoughts, is part of his ne- 
 cessary conversion. It was the description of the 
 deplorable state of the old world, " God saw that 
 the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and 
 that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart 
 was only evil continually; and it repented the Lord 
 that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved 
 
155 
 
 him at his heait.'' Judge by this, whether thoughts 
 be so httle regarded by God as you imagine. 
 David saith of himself, " I hate vain thoughts." 
 Solomon saith, " The thoughts of the righteous are 
 right." Paul saith that " Charity thinketh not 
 evil." 
 
 2. Thoughts are the issue of a rational soul. 
 And if its operations be contemptible, its essence is 
 contemptible: if its essence be noble, its operations 
 are considerable. If the soul be more excellent 
 than the body, its operations must be more excel- 
 lent. To neglect our thoughts, and not employ 
 them upon God, and for God, is to vilify our noblest 
 faculties, and deny God, who is a Spirit, that spirit- 
 ual service which he requireth. 
 
 3. Our thoughts are commonly our most cordial, 
 voluntary acts, and show the temper and inclination 
 of the heart : and therefore are re^ardable to God 
 that searcheth the heart, and calleth first for the 
 service of the heart. 
 
 4. Our thoughts are radical and instrumental 
 acts: such as they are, such are the actions of our 
 lives. Christ telleth us that " out of the heart pro- 
 ceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, 
 thefts, false witness, blasphemies, which defile the 
 man." 
 
 5. Our thoughts are under a law, as well as 
 words and deeds. " The thought of foolishness is 
 sin." Christ extendeth the law even to the thoughts 
 and desires of the heart. And under the law it is 
 said, " Beware that there be not a thought in thy 
 wicked heart," &c. namely, of unmercifulness to- 
 wards thy brother. 
 
156 
 
 6. Thoughts can reach much higher than sense, 
 and may be employed upon the most excellent and 
 invisible objects; and therefore are fit instruments to 
 elevate the soul that would converse with God. 
 Though God be infinitely above us, our thoughts 
 may be exercised on him. Our persons never were 
 in heaven, and yet our conversation must be in 
 heaven. And how is that but by our thoughts ? 
 Though we see not Christ, yet by the exercise of 
 believing thoughts on him, we love him, and rejoice 
 with joy unspeakable and full of glory. Though 
 God be invisible, yet our " meditations of him may 
 be sweet, and we may delight in the Lord." Say 
 not that all this is but fantastical and delusory, as 
 long as thoughts of things unseen are fitter to ac- 
 tuate and elevate the love, desires and delights of 
 the soul, and to move and guide us in a regular and 
 holy life, than the sense of lesser present good. 
 The thoughts are not vain or delusory unless the 
 object of them be false and vain, and delusory. 
 Where the object is great, and sure, and excellent, 
 the thoughts of such things are excellent operations 
 of the soul. If the thoughts of vain-glory, wealth 
 and pleasure, can delight the ambitious, covetous and 
 sensual, no wonder if the thoughts of God and life 
 eternal afford us solid, high delights. 
 
 7. The thoughts are not so liable to be counter- 
 feit and hypocritical as are the words and outward 
 deeds: and therefore they show more what the man 
 is, and what is in his heart. For as Solomon saith, 
 " As he thinketh in his heart, so is he." 
 
 8. Our thoughts may exercise the highest graces 
 of God in man; and also show those graces, as be- 
 
157 
 
 ing their effects. How is our faith, and love, and 
 desire, and trust, and joy, and hope, to be exercised 
 but by our thoughts ? If grace were not necessary 
 and excellent, it would not be wrought by the Spirit 
 of God, and called the Divine Nature, and the 
 image of God. And if grace be excellent, the 
 use and exercise of it is excellent: and therefore our 
 thoughts by which it is exercised must needs have 
 their excellency too. 
 
 9. Our thoughts must be the instruments of our 
 improving all holy truth in Scripture, and all the 
 mercies which we receive, and all the afflictions which 
 we undergo. What good will reading a chapter in 
 the Bible do to any one that never thinketh on it? 
 " Our delight in the law of God," must engage us 
 to '^ meditate in it day and night." What good 
 shall he get by hearing a sermon that exerciseth not 
 his thoughts for the receiving and digesting it? 
 Our considering what is said, is the way in which 
 we may expect that God should give us " under- 
 standing in all things." What the better will he 
 be for any of the merciful providences of God, who 
 never bethinks him whence they come, or what is 
 the use and end that they are given for? What 
 good will he get by any afflictions, that never be- 
 thinks him, who it is that chastiseth him, and for 
 what, and how he must get them removed, and 
 sanctified to his good? A man is but like one of 
 the pillars in the church, or like the corpse which 
 he treadeth on, or at best but like the dog that 
 followeth him thither for company, if he use not his 
 thoughts about the work which he hath in hand, 
 and cannot say, " We have thought of thy loving- 
 
158 
 
 kindness, O God, in the midst of thy temple." He 
 that biddeth you hear, doth also bid you " Take 
 heed how you hear." And you are commanded to 
 " lay up the word in your heart and soul." " And 
 to set your hearts to all the words which are testified 
 among you: for it is not a vain thing for you, be- 
 cause it is your life." 
 
 10. Our thoughts are so considerable a part of 
 God's service, that they are oft put for the whole. 
 *' A book of remembrance was written for them that 
 feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name." 
 Our believing and loving God, and trusting in him, 
 and desiring him and his grace, are the principal 
 parts of his service, which are exercised immediately 
 by our thoughts: and in praise and prayer it is this 
 inward part that is the soul and life of all. He is 
 a foolish hypocrite that thinks " to be heard for his 
 much speaking." 
 
 And on the contrary, the thoughts are named as 
 the sum of all iniquity. " Their thoughts are 
 thoughts of iniquity." " I have spread out my 
 hands all the day long unto a rebellious people, which 
 walketh in a way that was not good, after their own 
 thoughts." " O Jerusalem, wash thy heart from 
 wickedness that thou mayest be saved: how long 
 shall thy vain thoughts lodge within you!" " The 
 fool hath said in his heart, There is no God." 
 
 11. A man's thoughts are the appointed orderly 
 way for the conversion of a sinner, and the prevent- 
 ing of his sin and misery. David saith, " I thought 
 on my ways, and turned my feet unto thy testi- 
 monies." The prodigal " came to himself," and 
 returned to his father, by the success of his own 
 
159 
 
 consideration. " Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, 
 Consider your ways," is a voice that every sinner 
 should hear. " It is he that considereth, and doth 
 not according to his father's sins, that shall not die." 
 Therefore it is God's desire, " O that they were 
 wise and understood this, and that they would con- 
 sider their latter end." It is either men's incon- 
 siderateness, or the error of their thoughts, that is 
 the cause of all their wickedness. " My people 
 doth not consider." Paul " verily thought that he 
 ought to do many things against the name of Jesus." 
 Many " deceive themselves by thinking themselves 
 something when they are nothing." " They think 
 it strange that we run not with them to excess of 
 riot;" and therefore " they speak evil of us." Dis- 
 obedient formalists " consider not that they do evil," 
 when they think that they are offering acceptable 
 sacrifices to God. The very murder of God's holy 
 ones bath proceeded from these erroneous thoughts; 
 " they that kill you shall think they do God service." 
 All the ambition, and covetousness, and injustice 
 and cruelty following thereupon, which troubleth the 
 world, and ruineth men's souls, is from their erro- 
 neous thoughts, overvaluing these deceitful things. 
 " Their inward thought is, that their houses shall 
 continue for ever, and their dwelling-places to all 
 generations." The presumptuous and impenitent 
 are surprised by destruction, for want of thinking of 
 it to prevent it: " In such an hour as you think not, 
 the Son of man cometh." 
 
 12. Lastly, the thoughts are the most constant 
 actions of a man, and therefore most of the man is 
 in them. We are not always reading, or hearing. 
 
160 
 
 or praying, or working: but we are always thinking. 
 And therefore it doth especially concern us to see 
 that this constant breath of the soul be sweet, and 
 that this constant stream be pure and run in the 
 right channel. Well therefore did David make 
 this his request; " Search me, O God, and know 
 my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see 
 if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in 
 the way everlasting." I say therefore to those that 
 insist on this irrational objection, that these very 
 thoughts of theirs, concerning the inconsiderableness 
 of thoughts, are so foolish and ungodly, that when 
 they understand the evil even of these, they will 
 know that thoughts were more to be regarded. 
 " If therefore thou hast done foolishly in lifting up 
 thyself, or if thou hast thought evil, lay thy hand 
 upon thy mouth." 
 
 And though after all this, I still confess that it is 
 so exceeding hard a matter to keep the thoughts in 
 holy exercise and order, that even the best do daily 
 and hourly sin, in the omissions, the disorder or 
 vanity of their thoughts; yet for all that, we must 
 needs conclude that the inclination and design of 
 our thoughts must be principally for God, and that 
 the thoughts are principal instruments of the soul, 
 in acting it in his service, and moving it towards 
 him, and in all this holy work of our walking with 
 God: and therefore to imagine that thoughts are 
 inconsiderable and of little use, is to unman us, and 
 unchristianize us. The labour of the mind is ne- 
 cessary for the attaining the felicity of the mind ; as 
 the labour of the body is necessary for the things 
 that belong to the body. As bodily idleness bring- 
 
161 
 
 eth to beggary, when the diligent hand makes rich ; 
 so the idleness of the soul doth impoverish the soul, 
 when the laborious Christian liveth plentifully and 
 comfortably through the blessing of God upon his 
 industry and labour. You cannot expect that God 
 should appear to you in a bodily shape, that you 
 may have immediate converse with him in the body. 
 The corporal eating of him in transubstantiated 
 bread, supposed common to men, and mice, or dogs, 
 we leave to Papists, who have made themselves a 
 singular new religion, in despite of the common 
 sense and reason of mankind, as well as of the Scrip- 
 tures and the judgment of the church. It is in the 
 Spirit that thou must converse with God who is a 
 Spirit. The mind seeth him by faith, who is in- 
 visible to the bodily eyes. Nay, if you will have a 
 true and saving knowledge of God, you must not 
 liken him to any thing that is visible, nor have any 
 corporal conceivings of him. Earthly things may 
 be the glass in which we may behold him, while we 
 are here in the flesh; but our conceivings of him 
 must be spiritual, and minds that are immersed in 
 flesh and earth are unmeet to hold communion with 
 him. The natural man knoweth him not, and the 
 " carnal mind is enmity to him, and they that are in 
 the flesh cannot please him." It is the pure, ab- 
 stracted, elevated soul, that understandeth by ex- 
 perience what it is to walk with God. 
 
162 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 T/ie Benefits of Walking with God. 
 
 Having, in the foregoing uses, reproved the 
 atheism and contempt of God, which ungodly men 
 are continually guilty of, and endeavoured to con- 
 vince them of the necessity and desirableness of 
 walking with God, and in particular of improving 
 our thoughts for holy converse with him, and an- 
 swered the objections of the impious and atheists; I 
 shall next endeavour to cure the remnants of this 
 disease in those that are sincerely holy, who live too 
 strangely to God their Father in the world. In the 
 performance of this, I shall first show you what are 
 the benefits of this holy life, which should make it 
 appear desirable and delightful. 2. I shall show 
 you why believers should addict themselves to it as 
 doubly obliged, and that their neglect of it is a sin 
 attended with special aggravations. This is the 
 remainder of my task. 
 
 1. To walk with God in a holy and heavenly 
 conversation, is the employment most suitable to 
 human nature, not to its corrupt disposition, nor to 
 the carnal interest and appetite; but to nature as 
 nature, to man as man. It is the very work that 
 he was made for: the faculties and frame of the soul 
 and body were composed for it by the wise Creator: 
 they are restored for it by the gracious Redeemer. 
 Though in corrupted nature, where sensuality is 
 predominant, there is an estrangedness from God, 
 
163 
 
 and an enmity and hatred of him, so that the wicked 
 are more averse to all serious holy converse with him 
 (in prayer, contemplation, and a heavenly life) than 
 they are to a worldly sinful life ; yet all this is but 
 the disease of nature, corrupting its appetite, and 
 turning it against that proper food, which is most 
 suitable to its sound desires, and necessary to its 
 health and happiness. Though sinful habits are 
 become as it were a second nature to the ungodly, 
 so depraving their judgments and desires, that they 
 verily think the business and pleasures of the flesh 
 are most suitable to them; yet these are as contrary 
 to nature as nature, that is, to the primitive ten- 
 dencies of all our faculties, and the proper use to 
 which they were fitted by our Creator, and to that 
 true felicity which is the end of all our parts and 
 powers, even as madness is contrary to the rational 
 nature, though it were hereditary. 
 
 1. What can be more agreeable to the nature of 
 man, than to be rational and wise, and to live in the 
 purest exercise of reason? And certainly there is 
 nothing more rational than that we should live to 
 God, and gladly accept of all that communion with 
 him which our natures on earth are capable of. 
 Nothing can be more reasonable than for the rea- 
 sonable soul to be entirely addicted to him that did 
 create it, that doth preserve it, and by whom it doth 
 subsist and act. Nothing is more reasonable than 
 that the absolute Lord of nature be honoured and 
 served wholly by his own. Nothing is more rea- 
 sonable than that the reasonable creature do live in 
 the truest dependance upon, and subordination to, 
 the highest reason; and that derived, imperfect, de- 
 
164 
 
 fectible wisdom, be subservient to, and guided by, the 
 primitive, perfect, indefectible wisdom. It is most 
 reasonable that the children depend upon the Father, 
 and the foolish be ruled by the most wise, and that 
 the subjects be governed by the universal King; and 
 that they honour him and obey him; and that the 
 indigent apply themselves to him that is all-sufficient, 
 and is most able and ready to supply their wants; 
 and that the impotent rest upon him that is omni- 
 potent. 
 
 2. Nothing can be more reasonable, than that 
 the reasonable nature should intend its end, and seek 
 after its true and chief felicity: and that it should 
 love good as good, and therefore prefer the chiefest 
 good before that which is transitory and insufficient. 
 Reason commandeth the reasonable creature to 
 avoid its own delusion and destruction, and to rest 
 upon him that can everlastingly support us, and not 
 upon the creature that will deceive us and undo us: 
 and to prefer the highest and noblest converse before 
 that which is inferior, unprofitable, and base, and 
 that we rejoice more in the highest, purest, and most 
 durable delights, than in those that are sordid, and 
 of short continuance. And who knoweth not that 
 God is the chiefest good, and true felicity of man, 
 the everlasting rock, the durable delight, and to be 
 preferred before his creatures? And who might not 
 find, that would use his reason, that all things below 
 are vanity and vexation ? 
 
 3. Nothing can be more rational and agreeable 
 to man's nature, than that the superior faculties 
 should govern the inferior, that the brutish part be 
 subject to the rational: and that the ends and objects 
 
165 
 
 of this higher faculty be preferred before the objects 
 of the lower; that the objects of sense be made sub- 
 servient to the objects of reason. If this be not 
 natural and rational, then it is natural to man to be 
 no man, but a beast, and reasonable to be unrea- 
 sonable. Now it is evident that a holy living to 
 God is but the improvement of true reason, and its 
 employment for and upon its noblest object, and its 
 ultimate end; and that a sensual life is the exercise 
 of the inferior, brutish faculties, in predominancy 
 above and" before the rational: and therefore to ques- 
 tion whether God or the creature should be first 
 sought, and loved, and principally desired, and de- 
 lighted in, and served, is but to question whether 
 we should live like men or like beasts, and whether 
 dogs or wise men be the fitter companions for us? 
 And whether the rider or the horse should have the 
 rule? Whether the rational or sensitive powers be 
 superior and proper to the nature of a man? 
 
 Object. " But there is a middle state of life be- 
 twixt the sensual and the divine or holy life, which 
 sober philosophers did live, and this is the most 
 natural life, and most properly so called." 
 
 Ansxv. I deny this. There is no middle state of 
 life, if you denominate the several states of life, from 
 the several ends, or the several powers. I grant that 
 the very sensitive powers in man, especially the ima- 
 gination, are much advanced, by the conjunction of 
 reason, above that of a brute: and I grant that the 
 deHghts of the phantasy may be preferred before the 
 immediate pleasure of the senses: and I grant that 
 some little distant knowledge of God, and things 
 divine, and hopes of attaining them, may affect an 
 
166 
 
 unsanctified man with an answerable pleasure. But 
 all this is nothing to prove that there is a third sort 
 of end, or of powers, and so a third or middle state 
 of life, specifically distinct from the sensitive and the 
 holy life. Besides, the vegetative man hath no 
 other life or faculties, than the sensitive and the 
 rational: and therefore one of these must be in pre- 
 dominancy or rule. And therefore he can have no 
 middle sort or end; and therefore no middle state of 
 life, that can be said to be agreeable to his nature. 
 Those that seek and take up their chief felicity in 
 riches and plenty, and provisions for the flesh, 
 though not in the present pleasing of the sense, do 
 live but the life of sensuality. A fox or dog takes 
 pleasure when he hath eaten his belly full, to hide 
 and lay up the rest : and so doth the bee to fill the 
 hive, and make provision for the winter. The 
 proud that delight in honour and applause, and mak- 
 ing others subject to their lusts, do live but the life 
 of sensuality : a dog, a horse, and other brutes, have 
 something of the same. They that are grave 
 through melancholy, or because they can reach no 
 great matter in the world, and because their old or 
 duller spirits are not much pleased with juvenile de- 
 lights, and so live retiredly, and seek no higher 
 pleasure or felicity, but only sit down with the weep- 
 ing or the laughing philosopher, lamenting or derid- 
 ing the vanity of the world, do yet live no other 
 than a sensual life: as an old dog that hath no plea- 
 sure in hunting or playfulness, as he had when he 
 was a whelp. Only he is less deluded, and less vain 
 than other sensualists that find more pleasure in 
 their course. 
 
167 
 
 All the doubt is concerning those that place their 
 felicity in knowledge, and those that delight in moral 
 virtues, or that delight in studying of God, though 
 they are no Christians. 
 
 Answ. The point is weighty, and hath oft unhap- 
 pily fallen into injudicious hands. I shall endeavour 
 to resolve it as truly, clearly, and as impartially as I 
 can. 
 
 1. It is a great error against the nature of man to 
 say, that knowledge, as such, is fit to be any man's 
 chief and ultimate end. It may be that act which 
 is next the enjoying act of the will, which indeed is 
 next the end, objectively considered : but it is not 
 that act which we call ultimate idtimus. And this 
 is plain, 1. Because the object of the understanding, 
 which is truth, is not formally the nearest object or 
 matter of full felicity or delight: it is goodness that 
 is the nearest object. 2. And therefore the office 
 of the intellect is but introductive and subservient to 
 the office of the will, to apprehend the verity of 
 good, and pi*esent it to the will to be prosecuted or 
 embraced, or delighted in. There are many truths 
 that are ungrateful and vexatious, and which men 
 would wish to be no truths. And there is a know- 
 ledge which is troublesome, useless, undesirable and 
 tormenting, which even a wise man would fain avoid, 
 if he knew how. Morality is but preparatively in 
 the intellect : and therefore intellectual acts, as 
 such, are not morally good, or evil, but only partici- 
 patively, as subject to the will. And therefore 
 knowledge, as such, being not a moral good, can be 
 no other than such a natural good as is honum alicui, 
 only so far as it tendeth to some welfare or hap- 
 
168 
 
 piness, or pleasure of the possessor or some other: 
 and this welfare or pleasure is either that which is 
 suited to the sensitive powers, or to the rational 
 (which is to be found in the love of God alone.) 
 
 2. I add therefore, that even those men that 
 seem to take up their felicity in common knowledge, 
 indeed do but make their knowledge subservient to 
 something else which they take for their felicity. 
 For knowledge of evil may torment them. It is 
 only to know something which they take to be good, 
 that is their delight. And it is the complacency or 
 love of that good at the heart, which sets them on 
 work, and causeth the delight of knowing. If you 
 will say that common knowledge, as knowledge, doth 
 immediately delight, yet will it be found but such a 
 pleasing of the phantasy, as an ape hath in spying 
 marvels, which, if it have no end that is higher, is 
 still but a sensitive delight; but if it be referred to 
 a higher delight (in God) it doth participate of the 
 nature of it. Delight in general is the common end 
 of men and brutes: but in specie they are dis- 
 tinguished as sensual or rational. 
 
 3. If you suppose a philosopher to be delighted 
 in studying mathematics, or any of the works of 
 God, either he hath herein an end, or no end beyond 
 the knowledge of the creature: either he terminateth 
 his desires and delights in the creature, or else useth 
 it as a means to raise him to the Creator. If he 
 study and delight in the creature ultimately, this is 
 indeed the act of a rational creature, and an act of 
 reason, as to the faculty it proceeds from (and so is 
 a rational contrivance for sensual end and pleasures:) 
 but it is but the error of reason, and is no more 
 
169 
 
 agreeable to the rational nature, than the deceit of 
 the senses is to the sensitive. Nor is it finally to 
 be numbered with the operations felicitating human 
 nature, any more than an erroneous dream of plea- 
 sure, or than that man is to be numbered with the 
 lovers of learning, who taketh pleasure in the bind- 
 ing, leaves, or letters of the book, while he under- 
 standeth nothing of the sense. But if this philoso- 
 pher seek to know the Creator in and by the crea- 
 tures, and take delight in the Maker's power, wis- 
 dom and goodness, which appear in them, then 
 this is truly a rational delight, in itself considered, 
 and beseeming a man. And if he reach so far in 
 it, as to make God his highest desire and delight, 
 overpowering the desires and delights of sensuality, 
 he shall be happy, as being led by the Son unto the 
 Father: but if he make but some little approaches 
 towards it, and drown all such desires in tlie sensual 
 desires and delights, he is then but an unhappy sen- 
 sualist, and living brutishly in the tenor of his life, 
 though in some acts in part he operate rationally as 
 a man. 
 
 The like I may say of them that are said to place 
 their delight in moral virtues. Indeed, nothing is 
 properly a moral good (or virtue) but that which is 
 exercised upon God as our end, or upon the crea- 
 ture as a means to this end. To study and know 
 mere notions of God, or what is to be held and said 
 of him in discourse, is not to study to know God, 
 any more than to love the language and phrase of 
 holy writing, is to love God. To study God as 
 one that is less regardable and desirable than our 
 sensual delights, is but to blaspheme him. To 
 H 35 
 
170 
 
 study, seek, and serve him, as one that can proraote 
 or hinder our sensual felicity, is but to abuse him as 
 a means to your sensuality. And for the virtues of 
 temperance, justice, or charity, they are but analo- 
 gically, and secimdum quid, to be found in any un- 
 godly person. Materially they may have them in 
 an eminent degree : but not as they are informed by 
 the end which moralizeth them. Jezebel's fast was 
 not formally a virtue, but an odious way of hypocrisy 
 to oppress the innocent. He that doth works of 
 justice and mercy, to evil ends only, (as for applause, 
 or to deceive, &c.) and not from the true principles 
 of justice and mercy, doth not thereby exercise moral 
 virtue, but hypocrisy, and other vice. He that 
 doth works of justice and mercy, out of mere natural 
 compassion to others, and desire of their good, with- 
 out respect to God, as obliging, or rewarding, or 
 desiring it, doth perform such a natural good work, 
 as a lamb, or a gentle beast, doth to his fellows, 
 which hath not the true form of moral virtue, but 
 the matter only. He that, in such works, hath 
 some little by-respect to God, but more to his carnal 
 interest among men, doth that which, by the by, 
 participateth of moral good, or is such secundum 
 quid, but not simpliciter, being to be denominated 
 from the part predominant. He that doth works 
 of justice or charity, principally to please God, and 
 in true obedience to his will, and a desire to be con- 
 formed thereto, doth that which is formally a moral 
 good, and holy, though there may be abhorred mix- 
 tures of worse respects. 
 
 So that there are but two states of life here: one, 
 of those that walk after the flesh, and the other, of 
 
171 
 
 those that walk after the Spirit. However, the 
 flesh hath several materials and ways of pleasure; 
 and even the rational actings that have a carnal 
 end, are carnal finally and morally, though they are 
 acts of reason; for they are but the errors of reason, 
 and defectiveness of true rationality ; and being but 
 the acts of erroneous reason, as captivated by the 
 flesh, and subservient to the carnal interest, they are 
 themselves to be denominated carnal ; and so even 
 the reasonable soul, as biassed by sensuality, and 
 captivated thereto, is included in the name of 
 " flesh," in the Scripture. 
 
 How much moral good is in that course of piety 
 or obedience to God, which proceedeth only from 
 the fear of God's judgments, without any love to 
 him, I shall not now discuss, because I have too 
 far digressed already. 
 
 All that I have last said, is to show you the rea- 
 sonableness of living unto God, as being indeed the 
 proper and just employment of the superior faculties 
 of the soul, and the government of the lower facul- 
 ties. For if any other, called moralists, do seem to 
 subject the sensual life to the rational, either they 
 do but seem to do so — the sensual interest being 
 indeed predominant, and their rational operations 
 subjected thereto — or at the best, it is but some poor 
 and erroneous employment of the rational faculties 
 which they exercise, or some weak approaches to- 
 wards that high and holy life, which is indeed the 
 life which the rational nature was created for, and 
 which is the right improvement of it. 
 
 4. Moreover, nothing is more beseeming the na- 
 ture of man, than to aspire after the highest and 
 H2 
 
172 
 
 noblest improvement of itself; and to live the most 
 excellent life that it is capable of. For every na- 
 ture tendeth to its own perfection. But it is most 
 evident, that to walk with God in holiness, is a thing 
 that human nature is capable of; and that is the 
 highest life that we are capable of on earth: and 
 tlierefore it is the life most suitable to our natures. 
 
 5. And what can be more rational and beseem- 
 ing a created nature, than to live to those ends, 
 which our Creator intended in the very forming of 
 our natures? It is his ends that are principally to 
 be served. But the very composure of our faculties 
 plainly proves, that his end was that we should be 
 fitted for his service; he gave us no powers or capa- 
 city in vain : and therefore to serve him and walk 
 with him, is most suitable to our natures. 
 
 Object, " That is natural which is first, and born 
 with us: but our enmity to holiness is first, and not 
 our holiness." 
 
 Atisw, It may be called natural indeed, because 
 it is first, and born with us: and in that respect we 
 confess that sin, and not holiness, is natural to us. 
 But holiness is called natural to us, in a higher re- 
 spect, because it was the primitive, natural constitu- 
 tion of man, and was before sin, and is the perfection 
 or health of nature, and the right employment and 
 improvement of it, and tends to its happiness. An 
 hereditary leprosy may be called natural, as it is 
 first, and before health in that person: but health 
 and soundness is natural, as being the well-being of 
 nature, when the leprosy is unnatural, as being but 
 its <lisease, and tending to its destruction. 
 
 Object, " But nature in its first constitution was 
 
173 
 
 not holy, but innocent only, and it was by a super- 
 added gift of grace that it became holy, as some 
 schoolmen think, and as others think, Adam had no 
 holiness till his restoration." 
 
 A?isw. These are popish improved fancies, and 
 contrary to nature and the word of God. 1. They 
 are no where written, nor have any evidence in na- 
 ture, and therefore are the groundless dreams of 
 men. 
 
 2. The work of our recovery to God is called in 
 Scripture a redemption, renovation, restoration, which 
 imply that nature was once in that holy estate before 
 the fall. And it is expressly said, that the " new 
 man" which we " put on, is renewed in knowledge 
 after the image of him that created him." And 
 after God's image Adam was created. 
 
 3. If it belong to the soundness and integrity of 
 nature to be holy, (that is, disposed and addicted to 
 live to God) then it is rash and foolish for men, out 
 of their own imagination, to feign that God first 
 made nature defective, and then mended it by su- 
 peradded grace. But if it belong not to the sound- 
 ness and integrity of human nature to be holy, then 
 why did God give him grace to make him so? Nay, 
 then it would follow, that when God sanctified 
 Adam, or any since, he made him specifically another 
 thing, another creature, of another nature, and did 
 not only cure the diseases of his nature. 
 
 4». It is yet apparent in the very nature of man's 
 faculties, that their very usefulness and tendency, is 
 to live to God, and to enjoy him : and that God 
 should make a nature apt for such a use, and give 
 it no disposedness to its proper use, is an unnatural 
 
174. 
 
 conceit. We see to this day that it is but an un- 
 reasonable abuse of reason, when it is not used holily 
 for God ; and it is a very disease of nature to be 
 otherwise disposed. Therefore primitive nature had 
 such a holy inclination. 
 
 5. The contrary opinion tendeth to infidelity, and 
 to brutify human nature. For if no man can be- 
 lieve that he must be holy, and live to God, and 
 enjoy him hereafter in heaven, but he that also be- 
 lieveth that primitive nature was never disposed or 
 qualified for such a life; and that God must first 
 make a man another creature in specie, of another 
 nature (and consequently not a man) this is not only 
 improbable, but so contrary to Scripture and reason, 
 that few considerate persons would believe it. As if 
 we must believe that God would turn brutes into 
 men. God healeth, elevateth, and perfecteth na- 
 ture, but doth not specifically change it, at least in 
 this life. 
 
 Object, ** But let it be granted that he giveth no 
 man specifically another nature, yet he may give him 
 such higher gifts, as may be like another nature to 
 him so far." 
 
 Answ, No doubt he may and doth give him such 
 gifts as actuate and perfect nature: but some disposi- 
 tion to our ultimate end is essential to our nature ; 
 and therefore to assign man another ultimate end, 
 and to give a disposition to it, of which he had no 
 seed, or part, or principle before, is to make him 
 another creature. 1 confess that in lapsed man, the 
 holy disposition is so far dead, as that the change 
 maketh a man a new creature in a moral sense (as 
 he is a new man that changeth his mind and man- 
 
175 
 
 ners:) but still nature hath its aptitude, as rational, 
 to be employed for its Maker ; so that he is not a 
 new creature in a natural sense. 
 
 An actual or habitual wilUngness to his holy em- 
 ployment, a promptitude to it, and a due under- 
 standing of it, is the new creature, morally so called, 
 which is given in our sanctification : but the natural 
 aptitude that is in our faculties as rational, to this 
 holy life, is essential to us as men, or as rational; 
 even to have the potefitiam naturalem which must 
 yet have further help or moral life to actuate it. 
 And Adam had both these: the one he retained, or 
 else he had not continued a man; the other he lost, 
 or else he had not had need of renovation. 
 
 6. If Adam's nature had not been disposed to 
 God, as to his end and sovereign, then the law of 
 nature (to adhere to God, and obey and serve him) 
 was not written in his heart : and then it would not 
 have been his duty to adhere to God, and to obey 
 and serve him; which is so false, that even in lapsed, 
 unrenewed nature, there is left so much aptitude 
 hereto, as will prove him to be still under the obli- 
 gations of this law of nature, even actually to adhere 
 to God, and to obey him, which a dead man, a mad- 
 man, or an infant, is not (immediately.) 
 
 By all this you see, that though the blindness 
 and disease of reason is contrary to faith and holi- 
 ness, yet reason itself is so much for it, as that faith 
 itself is but the act of elevated well informed reason; 
 and supernatural revelation is but the means to in- 
 form our reason, about things which have not a na- 
 tural evidence, discernible by us. And sanctifica- 
 tion (actively taken) is but the healing of our reason 
 
176 
 
 and rational appetite: and holiness is but the health 
 or soundness oi' them. The error of reason must 
 be renounced by believers; but not the use of rea- 
 son: the sufficiency of reason and natural light, 
 without supernatural light and help, we must all 
 deny: but to set reason, as reason, in opposition to 
 faith or holiness, or divine revelation, is as gross a 
 piece of foolery, as to set the visive faculty in op-- 
 position to the light of the sun, or to its objects. 
 It is the unreasonableness of sinners that is to be 
 cured by illuminating grace. " They are wise to 
 do evil, but to do good they have no knowledge." 
 Their reason is wounded, depraved, and corrupted 
 about the matters of God; they have reason to serve 
 the flesh, but not to master it. God doth renew 
 men by giving them wisdom, and bringing them to 
 a sound mind: as logic helpeth reason in discourse 
 and arguing, so theology informeth reason about the 
 matters of God and our salvation: and the Spirit of 
 God doth make his doctrine and revelation effectual. 
 Make nature sound, and reason clear, and then we 
 will consent that all men be persuaded to live ac- 
 cording to their nature and their reason. But if a 
 bedlam will rave and tear himself and others, and 
 say. This is according to my nature or my reason; 
 it is fitter that chains and whips do cure that nature 
 and reason, than that he be allowed to live according 
 to his madness. If a drunkard or whoremonger will 
 say. My nature and reason incline me to please my 
 appetite and lust, it is fit that the swinish nature be 
 corrected, and the beast which rideth and ruleth the 
 man, be taken down; and when indeed his nature is 
 the nature of man, and fitted to the use and ends it 
 
177 
 
 was made for, then let him live according to it and 
 spare not. If a malicious man will abuse or kill his 
 neighbour, and say, This is according to my nature, 
 let that nature be used as the nature of wolves and 
 foxes, and other noxious creatures are. But let 
 human nature be cured of its blindness, carnality, 
 and corruption, and then it will need no exernal 
 testimony to convince it, that no employment is so 
 natural and suitable to man, as to walk with God, 
 in love and confidence, and reverent worship, and 
 cheerful obedience to his will. A worldly, fleshly, 
 sensual life, will then appear to be below the rational 
 nature of a man, as it is below us to go to grass with 
 horses, or to live as mere companions of brutes. It 
 will then appear to be as natural for us to love and 
 live to our Creator and Redeemer, and to walk with 
 God, as for a child to love his parents, and to live 
 with them and serve them. When I say that this 
 is natural, I mean not that it is necessary by na- 
 tural necessity, or that grace doth operate per mo- 
 dum naturce, as their rational motion is so called. 
 There is a brutish or inanimate nature, and there is 
 a rational, voluntary nature. Grace worketh not 
 according to the way of inanimate nature, in free 
 agents. I may well say, that whatever is rational, 
 is natural to a rational creature as such, so far as he 
 discerneth it. Yea, and habits, though they effect 
 not necessarily, but freely in a rational nature, yet 
 they incline necessarily, et per modum naturce. 
 They contain in their being a natural aptitude and 
 propensity to action. 
 
 Object, " But thus you confound nature and 
 H3 
 
178 
 
 grace, natural and supernatural operations, while 
 you make grace natural." 
 
 Answ. No such matter: Though walking with 
 God be called natural, as it is most agreeable to na- 
 ture so far as it is sound, and is the felicity and 
 meetest employment of the rational nature as such : 
 yet, 1. Diseased nature doth abhor it, as a diseased 
 stomach the pleasantest and most wholesome food, 
 (as I said before.) 2. And this disease of nature 
 cannot be cured without divine, supernatural grace. 
 So that as to the efficient cause, our holiness is su- 
 pernatural. But it is unsound doctrine of those 
 that affirm that Adam in his pure, natural state of 
 innocence, had no natural holiness, or aptitude and 
 promptitude to walk with God in order to everlast- 
 ing happiness; but say that all this was either want- 
 ing to him, and was a state specifically distinct, 
 which he fell short of by his sin, or that it was given 
 him by superadded grace, and was not in his entire 
 nature. 
 
 And yet we deny not but as to degrees. Adam's 
 nature was to grow up to more perfection : and that 
 his natural holiness contained not a sufficient imme- 
 diate aptitude and promptitude to every duty which 
 might afterwards be required of him ; but this was 
 to be obtained in the exercise of that holiness which 
 he had: even as a vine or other fruit-tree, though it 
 be natural to it to bear its proper fruit, yet hath it 
 not an immediate sufficient aptitude hereto, whilst it 
 is but appearing out of the seed, before it be grown 
 up to just maturity. Or as it is natural to a man 
 to discourse and reason ; but yet his nature in in- 
 
179 
 
 fancy, or untaught and unexercised, hath not a suf- 
 ficient immediate aptitude and promptitude hereunto. 
 Or as grace inclineth a renewed soul to every holy 
 truth and duty; and yet such a soul in its infancy of 
 grace, hath not a sufficient, immediate aptitude or 
 promptitude to the receiving of every holy truth, or 
 the doing of every holy duty; but must grow up to 
 it by degrees. But the addition of these degrees, 
 is no specifical alteration of the nature of man, or of 
 that grace which was before received. 
 
 Having been so long upon this first consideration, 
 (that walking with God is most agreeable to human 
 nature,) I shall be more brief in the rest that follow. 
 
 II. To walk with God and live to him, is incom- 
 parably the highest and noblest life. To converse 
 with men only, is to converse with worms: whether 
 they be princes or poor men, they differ but as the 
 bigger animals from the lesser. If they be wise 
 and good, their converse may be profitable and de- 
 lightful, because they have a beam of excellency 
 from the face of God: (and O how unspeakable is 
 the distance between his wisdom and goodness, and 
 theirs!) But if they be foolish, ungodly, and dis- 
 honest, how loathsome is their conversation ! What 
 stinking breath is in their profane and filthy language ! 
 in their lives and slanders of the just ! in their sottish 
 jeers and scorns of those that walk with God ! 
 which expose at once their folly and misery to the 
 pity of all that are truly understanding. When 
 they are gravely speaking evil of the things which 
 they understand not, or with a fleering confidence 
 deriding merrily the holy commands and ways of 
 God, they are much more lamentably expressing 
 
180 
 
 their infatuation, than any that are kept in chains in 
 bedlam- though indeed, with the most, they escape the 
 reputation which they deserve, because they are at- 
 tended with persons of their own proportion of 
 wisdom, that always reverence a silken coat, and 
 judge them wise that wear gold lace, and have the 
 greatest satisfaction of their wills and lusts, and are 
 able to do most mischief in the world: and because 
 good men have learned to honour the worst of their 
 superiors, and not to call them as they are. But 
 God is bold to call them as they are, and give them 
 in his word, such names and characters by which 
 they might come to know themselves. And is it 
 not a higher, nobler life to walk with God, than to 
 converse in bedlam, or with intoxicated sensualists, 
 that live in a constant deliration? 
 
 - Yea, worse than so: ungodly men are " children 
 of the devil," so called by Jesus Christ himself, be- 
 cause they have much of the nature of the devil, and 
 the lusts of their father they will do: yea, they ''are 
 taken captive by him at his will." They are the 
 " servants of sin," and do the drudgery that so vile 
 a master sets them on. Certainly as the spirits of 
 the just are so like to angels, that Christ saith, we 
 shall be as they, and equal to them ; so the wicked 
 are nearer kin to devils, than they themselves will 
 easily believe. They are as like him as children to 
 their father. He is a liar, and so are they. He is 
 a hater of God, and godliness, and godly men, and 
 so are they. He is a murderer, and would fain 
 devour the holy seed ; and such are they. He 
 envieth the progress of the Gospel, and the prosperity 
 of the church, and the increase of holiness, and so 
 
181 
 
 do they. He hath a special malice against the most 
 powerful and successful preachers of the word of 
 God, and against the most zealous and eminent 
 saints; and so have they. He cares not by what 
 lies and fictions he disgraceth them, nor how cruelly 
 he useth them ; no more do they, (or some of them 
 at least). He cherisheth licentiousness, sensuality 
 and impiety; and so do they. If they do seem 
 better in their adversity and restraint, yet try them 
 but with prosperity and power, and you shall see 
 quickly how like they are to devils. And shall we 
 delight more to converse with brutes and incarnate 
 devils, than with God ? Is it not a more high and 
 excellent conversation to walk with God, and live to 
 him, than to be companions of such degenerate men, 
 that have almost forfeited the reputation of humanity? 
 Alas ! they are companions so deluded and ignorant, 
 and yet so wilful; so miserable, and yet so confident 
 and secure, that they are, to a believing eye, the 
 most lamentable sight that the whole world can show 
 us out of hell. And how sad a life must it then 
 needs be, to converse with such, were it not for the 
 hope that we have of furthering their recovery and 
 salvation. 
 
 But to walk with God is a word so high, that I 
 should have feared the guilt of arrogance in using 
 it, if I had not found it in the holy Scriptures. It 
 is a word that importeth so high and holy a frame 
 of souljv^nd expresseth such high and holy actions, 
 that '.lie naming of it striketh my heart with rever- 
 ence, as if I had heard the voice to Moses, " Put 
 off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon 
 thou standeth is holy ground." Methinks he that 
 
182 
 
 shall say to me, Come see a man that walks with 
 God, doth call me to see one that is next unto an 
 angel, or glorified soul ! It is a far more reverend 
 object in mine eye, than ten thousand lords or prin- 
 ces, considered only in their fleshly glory. It is a 
 wiser action for people to run and crowd together, 
 to see a man that walks with God, than to see the 
 pompous train of princes, their entertainments, or 
 their triumph. O happy man, that walks with God, 
 though neglected and contemned by all about him ! 
 What blessed sights doth he daily see! What 
 ravishing tidings, what pleasant melody doth he 
 daily hear, unless it be in his swoons or sickness ! 
 What delectable food doth he daily taste ! He 
 seeth by faith the God, the glory, which the blessed 
 spirits see at hand by nearest intuition ! He seeth 
 that in a glass and darkly, which they behold with 
 open face ! He seeth the glorious Majesty of his 
 Creator, the eternal King, the Cause of causes, the 
 Composer, Upholder, Preserver, and Governor of 
 all the worlds ! He beholdeth the wonderful methods 
 of his providence: and what he cannot reach to see, 
 he admireth, and waiteth for the time when that also 
 shall be open to his view ! He seeth by faith the 
 world of spirits, the hosts that attend the throne of 
 God; their perfect righteousness, their full devoted- 
 ness to God; their ardent love; their flaming zeal, 
 their ready and cheerful obedience, their dignity and 
 shining glory, in which the lowest of them exceedeth 
 that which the disciples saw on Moses and Elias 
 when they appeared on the holy mount, and talked 
 with Christ ! They hear by faith the heavenly 
 concert, the high and harmonious songs of praise, 
 
183 
 
 the joyful triumphs of crowned saints, the sweet 
 commemorations of the things that were done and 
 suffered on earth, with the praises of him that re- 
 deemed them by his blood, and made them kings 
 and priests to God : herein he hath sometimes a 
 sweet foretaste of the everlasting pleasures, which, 
 though it be but little, as Jonathan's honey on the 
 end of his rod, or as the clusters of grapes which 
 were brought from Canaan into the wilderness, yet 
 are they more excellent than all the delights of 
 sinners. And in the beholding of this celestial 
 glory, some beams do penetrate his breast, and so 
 irradiate his longing soul, that he is changed thereby 
 into the same image, from glory to glory ; the Spirit 
 of Glory and of God do rest upon him. And O 
 what an excellent holy frame doth this converse with 
 God possess his soul of! How reverently doth he 
 think of him ! What life is there in every name 
 and attribute of God which he heareth or thinketh 
 on ! The mention of his power, his wisdom, his 
 goodness, his love, his holiness, his truth, how 
 powerful and how pleasant are they to him ! when 
 to those that know him but by the hearing of the ear, 
 all these are but like common names and notions ; 
 and even to the weaker sort of Christians, whose 
 walking with God is more uneven, and low, inter- 
 rupted by their sins, and doubts, and fears, this life 
 and glory of a Christian course is less perceived. 
 
 And the sweet appropriating and applying works 
 of faith, by which the soul can own his God, and 
 finds himself owned by him, are exercised most easily 
 and happily in these near approaches to God. Our 
 doubts are cherished by our darkness, and that is 
 
184 
 
 much caused by our distance; the nearer the soul 
 doth approach to God, the more distinctly it heareth 
 the voice of mercy, the sweet reconciling invitations 
 of love ; and the more clearly it discerneth that 
 goodness and amiableness in God, which maketh it 
 easier to us to believe that he loveth us, or is ready 
 to embrace us; and banisheth all those false and 
 horrid apprehensions of him, which before were our 
 discouragement, and made him seem to us more 
 terrible than amiable. As the ministers and faith- 
 ful servants of Christ, are ordinarily so misrepre- 
 sented by the malignant devil, to those that know 
 them not, tliat they are ready to think them some 
 silly fools, or false-hearted hypocrites, and to shun 
 them as strange undesirable persons; but when they 
 come to a thorough acquaintance with them by a nearer 
 and familiar converse, they see how much they were 
 mistaken, and wronged by their prejudice and belief 
 of slanderers' misreports: even so a weak believer, 
 that is under troubles, in the apprehension of his sin 
 and danger, is apt to hearken to the enemy of God, 
 that would show him nothing but his wrath, and re- 
 present God as an enemy to him: and in this case 
 it is exceeding hard for a poor sinner to believe that 
 God is reconciled to him, or loveth him, or intends 
 him good, but he is ready to dread and shun him as 
 an enemy, or as he would fly from a wild beast or 
 murderer, or from fire or water, that would destroy 
 him; and all these injurious thoughts of God are 
 cherished by strangeness and disacquaintance. But 
 as the soul doth fall into an understanding and serious 
 converse with God, and having been often with him, 
 doth find him more merciful than he was by Satan 
 
185 
 
 represented to him, his experience reconcileth his 
 mind to God, and maketh it much easier to him 
 to believe that God is reconciled unto him, when 
 he hath found much better entertainment with God 
 than he expected, and hath observed his benignity, 
 and the treasures of his bounty laid up in Christ, 
 and by him distributed to believers, and hath found 
 him ready to hear and help, and found him the only 
 full and suitable felicitating good, this banisheth his 
 former horrid thoughts, and maketh him ashamed 
 that ever he should think so suspiciously, injuriously, 
 and dishonourably of his dearest God and Father. 
 
 Yet I must confess that there are many upright, 
 troubled souls, that are much in reading, prayer, and 
 meditation, that still find it hard to be persuaded of 
 the love of God, and that have much more dis- 
 quietude and fear since they set themselves to think 
 of God, than they had before. But yet for all this, we 
 may well conclude, that to walk with God is the way 
 to consolation, and tendeth to acquaint us with his 
 love. As for those troubled souls, whose experience 
 is objected against this, some of them are such as 
 are yet but in their return to God, from a life of 
 former sin and misery, and are yet but like the 
 needle in the compass that is shaken, in a trembling 
 motion towards their rest, and not in any settled 
 apprehensions of it. Some of them by the straying 
 of their imaginations too high, and putting them- 
 selves upon more than their heads can bear, and by 
 the violence of fears, or other passions, do make 
 themselves incapable of those sweet consolations 
 which else they might find in their converse with 
 God: as a lute, when the strings are broken with 
 
186 
 
 straining, is incapable of making any melody. All 
 of them have false apprehensions of God, and there- 
 fore trouble themselves by their own mistakes. 
 And if some perplex themselves by their error, doth 
 it follow that therefore the truth is not comfortable? 
 Is not a father's presence consolatory, because some 
 children are afraid of their fathers, that know them 
 not because of some disguise? And some of God's 
 children walk so unevenly and carelessly before 
 him, that their sins provoke him to hide his face, 
 and to seem to reject them and disown them, and 
 60 to trouble them that he may bring them home; 
 but shall the comforts of our Father's love and 
 family be judged of by the fears or smart of those 
 whom he is scourging for their disobedience, or 
 their trial? Seek God with understanding, as 
 knowing his essential properties, and what he will 
 be to them that sincerely and diligently seek him; 
 and then you will quickly have experience, that 
 nothing so much tendeth to quiet and settle a 
 doubting, troubled, unstable soul, as faithfully to 
 walk with God. 
 
 But the soul that estrangeth itself from God, 
 may indeed for a time have the quietness of security; 
 but (so far) it will be strange to the assurance of his 
 love, and to true consolation. Expect not that God 
 should follow you with his comforts in your sinful- 
 ness and negligence, and cast them into your hearts 
 whilst you neither seek nor mind them; or that he 
 will give you the fruit of his ways in your own ways. 
 Will he be your joy when you forget him? Will 
 he delight your souls with his goodness and amiable- 
 ness, while you are taking up with other matters, 
 
187 
 
 and think not of him? Can you expect to find the 
 comforts of his family, among his enemies, out of 
 doors? The experience of all the world can tell 
 you, that prodigals, while they are straggling from 
 their Father's house, do never taste the comforts of 
 his embraces; the strangers meddle not with his 
 children's joys: they grow not in the way of ambi- 
 tion, covetousness, vain-glory, or sensuality; but in 
 the way of holy Obedience, and of believing contem- 
 plations of the divine, everlasting objects of delight. 
 " For, lo, they that are far from him shall perish. 
 He destroyeth them that go a whoring from him. 
 But it is good for us to draw nigh to God." 
 
 III. Walking with God is the only course that 
 can prove and make men truly wise. It proves them 
 wise that make so wise and good a choice, and are 
 disposed and skilled in any measure for so high a 
 work. Practical wisdom is the solid, useful, profit- 
 able wisdom: and practical wisdom is seen in our 
 choice of good, and refusal of evil, as its most im- 
 mediate and excellent effect. And no choosing or 
 refusing doth show the wisdom or folly of man so 
 much as that which is about the greatest matters, 
 and on which everlasting life or death depends. He 
 is not thought so wise among men that can write a 
 volume about the orthography or etymology of a 
 word, or can guess what wood the Trojan horse was 
 made of, as he that can bring home gold and pearls, 
 or he that can obtain and manage governments, or 
 he that can cure mortal maladies. For as in lading 
 we difference bulk and value, and take not that for 
 the best commodity which is of greatest quantity or 
 weight, but that which is most precious and of 
 
188 
 
 greatest use; so there is a bulky knowledge, ex- 
 tended far, to a multitude of words and things, 
 which are all of no great use or value; and therefore 
 the knowledge of them is such as they: and there is 
 a precious sort of knowledge, which fixeth upon the 
 most precious things; which being of greatest use 
 and value, do accordingly prove the knowledge such. 
 Nothing will prove a man simply and properly wise^ 
 but that which will prove or make him happy. He 
 is wise indeed, that is wise to his own and others' 
 good; and that is indeed his good, which saveth his 
 soul, and maketh him for ever blessed. Though 
 we may admire the cunning of those that can make 
 the most curious engines, or by deceiving others 
 advance themselves, or that can subtilely dispute the 
 most curious niceties, or criticise upon the words of 
 several languages; yet I will never call them wise 
 that are all that wliile the devil's slaves, the enemies 
 of God, the refusers of grace, and are making haste 
 to endless misery. And I think there is not one of 
 those in hell who were once the subtile men on 
 earth, that now take themselves to have been truly 
 wise, or glory much in the remembrance of such 
 wisdom. 
 
 And as the choice doth prove men wise, so the 
 practice of this holy walking with God, doth make 
 them much wiser than they were. As there must 
 be some work of the Spirit to draw men to believe 
 in Christ, and yet the Spirit is promised and given 
 (in a special sort or measure) to them that do believe; 
 so must there be some special wisdom to make men 
 choose to walk with God; but much more is given 
 to them in this holy course. As Solomon was wiser 
 
189 
 
 than most of the world, before he asked wisdom of 
 God, or else he would not have made so wise a 
 choice, and preferred wisdom before the riches and 
 honours of the world; and yet it was a more notable 
 degree of wisdom that was afterwards given him in 
 answer to his prayers: so it is in this case. 
 
 There are many undeniable evidences to prove, 
 that walking with God doth more to make men 
 truly wise, than all other learning or policy in the 
 world. 
 
 1. He that walketh with God, begins aright, and 
 settles upon a sure foundation; (and we use to say, 
 that a work is half finished that is well begun;) he 
 hath engaged himself to the best and wisest teacher; 
 he is a disciple to him that knovveth all things. He 
 hath taken in infallible principles, and taken them 
 in their proper place and order; he hath learned those 
 truths which will every one become a teacher to 
 him, and help him to that which is yet unlearned. 
 Whereas many that thought they were doctors in 
 Israel, if ever they will be wise and happy, must 
 " become fools, (that is, such as they have esteemed 
 fools,) if ever they will be wise;" and must be called 
 back with Nicodemus to learn Christ's cross, and to 
 be taught that, " that which is born of the flesh is but 
 flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is Spirit;" 
 and that therefore they " must be born again" (not 
 only of water, but also of the Spirit) if ever they " will 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven." O miserable 
 beginning ! and miserable progress ! when men that 
 never soundly learned the mysteries of regeneration, 
 and faith, and love, and self-denial, and mortification, 
 proceed to study names and words, and to turn over 
 
190 
 
 a multitude of books, to fill their brains with airy- 
 notions, and their common places with such sayings 
 as may be provision and furniture for their pride 
 and ostentation, and ornament to their style and 
 language; and know not yet what they must do to 
 be saved, and indeed know nothing as they ought 
 to know. As every science has its principles, which 
 are supposed in all the consequential verities; so hath 
 religion as doctrinal and practical, those truths which 
 must be first received, before any other can be re- 
 ceived as it ought; and those things which must be 
 first done, before any other can be done, so as to 
 attain their ends. And these truths and duties are 
 principally about God himself, and are known and 
 done effectually by those, and only those, that walk 
 with God, or are devoted to him. It is a lament- 
 able thing to see men immersed in serious studies, 
 even till they grow aged, and to hear them seriously 
 disputing and discoursing about the controversies or 
 difficulties in theology, or inferior sciences, before 
 ever they had any saving knowledge of God, or of 
 the work of the Holy Ghost in the converting and 
 sanctifying of the soul, or how to escape everlasting 
 misery ! 
 
 2. He that walketh with God hath fixed upon a 
 right end, and is renewing his estimation and inten- 
 tion of it, and daily prosecuting it: and this is the 
 first and greatest part of practical wisdom. When 
 a man once knoweth his end aright, he may better 
 judge of the aptitude and seasonableness of all the 
 means. When we know once that heaven contain- 
 eth the only felicity of man, it will direct us to hea- 
 venly thoughts, and to such spiritual means as are 
 
191 
 
 fitted to that end; if we have the right mark in our 
 eye, we are more like to level at it, than if we mis- 
 take our mark. He is the wise man, and only he, 
 that hath steadily fixed his eye upon that blessedness 
 which he was created and redeemed for, and maketh 
 straight towards it, and bends the powers of soul 
 and body, by faithful, constant diligence to obtain it. 
 He that hath rightly and resolvedly determined of 
 his end, hath virtually resolved a thousand contro- 
 versies that others are unsatisfied and erroneous in. 
 He that is resolved, that his end is to please and 
 glorify God, and to enjoy him for ever, is easily re- 
 solved whether a holy life, or a sensual or worldly, 
 be the way ; whether the way be godly, or to make 
 a mock at godliness: whether covetousness and 
 riches, ambition and preferment, voluptuousness and 
 fleshly pleasures, be the means to attain his end : 
 whether it will be attained rather by the studying of 
 the word of God, and meditating on it day and night, 
 and by holy conference, and fervent prayer, and 
 an obedient life, or by negligence, or worldiness, or 
 drunkenness, or gluttony, or cards and dice, or 
 beastly filthiness, or injustice and deceit. Know 
 once but whither it is that we are going, and it is 
 easy to know whether the saint, or the swaggerer, 
 be in the way. But a man that doth mistake his 
 end, is out of his way at the first step ; and the fur- 
 ther he goes, the further he is from true felicity; 
 and the more he erreth, the further he hath to go 
 back again, if ever he return. Every thing that 
 a man doth in the world, which is not for the right 
 end, (the heavenly felicity,) is an act of foolishness 
 and error, how splendid soever the matter or the name. 
 
19^ 
 
 may make it appear to ignorant men. Every word 
 that an ungodly person speaketh, being not for a 
 right end, is in him but sin and folly, however ma- 
 terially it may be an excellent and useful truth. 
 While a miserable soul hath his back upon God, 
 and his face upon the world, every step he goeth is 
 an act of folly, and tending to his future misery. It 
 can be no act of wisdom, which tendeth to a man's 
 damnation. When such a wretch begins to inquire 
 and bethink him where he is, and whither he is go- 
 ing, and whither he should go, and to think of turn- 
 ing back to God, then, and never till then, he is 
 beginning to come to himself, and to be wise. Till 
 God and glory be the end that he aimeth at, and 
 seriously bends his study, heart, and life, to seek; 
 though a man were searching into the mysteries of 
 nature; though he were studying or discussing the 
 notions of theology; though he were admired for his 
 learning and wisdom by the world, and cried up as 
 the oracle of the earth, he is all the while but play- 
 ing the fool, and going a more cleanly way to hell 
 than the grosser sinneis of the world ! For is he 
 wise, that knoweth not whether heaven or earth be 
 better ! Whether God or his flesh should be obeyed ! 
 Whether everlasting joys, or the transitory pleasures 
 of sin should be preferred ? Or that seemeth to be 
 convinced of the truth in these and such like cases, 
 and yet hath not the wit to make his choice, and 
 bend his life according to his conviction? He can- 
 not be wise who practically mistakes his end. 
 
 3. He that walketh with God doth know those 
 things with a deep, effectual, heart-changing know- 
 ledge, which other men know but superficially, by 
 
193 
 
 the halves, and as in a dream. And true wisdom 
 consisteth in the intensiveness of the knowledge 
 subjectively, as much as in the extensiveness of it 
 objectively. To see a few things in a narrow room 
 perspicuously and clearly, doth show a better eye- 
 sight, than in the open air to see many things ob- 
 scurely, so as scarce to discern any of them aright; 
 (like him that saw men walk like trees.) The 
 clearness and depth of knowledge, which makes it 
 effectual to its proper use, is the greatness and ex- 
 cellency of it: therefore it is, that unlearned men 
 that love and fear the Lord, may well be said to be 
 incomparably more wise and knowing men than the 
 most learned that are ungodly. As he hath more 
 riches that hath a little gold or jewels, than he that 
 hath many load of stones; so he that hath a deep, 
 effectual knowledge of God the Father, and the 
 Redeemer, and of the life to come, is wiser and more 
 knowing than he that hath only a notional know* 
 ledge of the same things, and of a thousand more. 
 A wicked man hath so much knowledge, as teacheth 
 him to speak the same words of God, and Christ, 
 and heaven, which a true believer speaks; but not 
 so much as to work in him the same affections and 
 choice, nor so much as to cause him to do the same 
 work. As it is a far more excellent kind of knovv- 
 ledge which a man hath of any country by travel and 
 habitation there, than that which cometh but by 
 reading or report; or which a man hath of meat, of 
 fruits, of wines, by eating and drinking, than that 
 which another hath by hearsay: so is the inward 
 heart-affecting knowledge of a true believer, more 
 excellent than the flashy notions of the ungodly. 
 I 35 
 
194 
 
 Truth, simply as truth, is not the highest and most 
 excellent object of the mind: but good, as good, 
 must be apprehended by the understanding, and 
 commended to the will, which entertaineth it with 
 complacency, adhereth to it with choice and resolu- 
 tion, prosecuteth it with desire and endeavour, and 
 enjoyeth it with delight. And though it be the 
 understanding which apprehendeth it, yet it is the 
 heart or will that relisheth it, and tasteth the greatest 
 sweetness in it, working upon it with some mixture 
 of internal sense, (which hath made some ascribe a 
 knowledge of good, as such, to the will.) And 
 it is the will's intention that causeth the understand- 
 ing to be denominated practical: and therefore I may 
 well say, that it is wisdom indeed when it reacheth 
 to the heart. No man knoweth the truth of God so 
 well as he that most firmly believeth him: and no. 
 man knoweth the goodness of God so well as he 
 that loveth him most. No man knoweth his power 
 and mercy so well as he that doth most confi- 
 dently trust him: and no man knoweth his justice 
 and dreadfulness so well as he that feareth him. 
 No man knoweth or believeth the glory of heaven 
 so well as he that most esteemeth, desireth, and 
 seeketh it, and hath the most heavenly heart and 
 conversation. No man believeth in Jesus Christ so 
 well, as he that giveth up himself to him, with the 
 greatest love, and thankfulness, and trust, and obe- 
 dience. As James saith, " Show me thy faith by 
 thy works," so say I, let me know the measure and 
 value of my knowledge by my heart and life. 
 That is wisdom indeed, which conformeth a man to 
 God, and saveth his soul: this only will be owned 
 
195 
 
 as wisdom to eternity, when dreaming notions will 
 prove but folly. 
 
 4. He that walketh with God hath an infallible 
 rule, and taketh the right course to have the best 
 acquaintance with it, and skill to use it. The doc- 
 trine that informeth him is divine: it is from heaven, 
 and not of men: and therefore if God be wiser than 
 man, he is able to make his disciples wisest; and 
 teaching will more certainly and powerfully illu- 
 minate. Many among men have pretended to in- 
 fallibility, that never could justify their pretensions, 
 but have confuted them by their own mistakes and 
 crimes; but none can deny the infallibility of God. 
 He never yet was deceived, or did deceive : he err- 
 eth not, nor teacheth error. Nicodemus knew 
 Christ was to be believed, when he knew that he 
 was " a teacher come from God." Christ knew 
 that the Jews themselves durst not deny the truths 
 of John's doctrine, if he could but convince them 
 that it was " from heaven, and not of men." It is 
 impossible for God to lie: it is the devil that " was 
 a liar from the beginning," and is yet the father of 
 lies. No wonder if they believe lies that follow 
 such a teacher: and those that follow the flesh and 
 the world, do follow the devil. They that will be- 
 lieve what their fleshly interests and lusts persuade 
 them to believe, do believe what the devil persuadeth 
 them to believe; for he persuadeth them by these, 
 and for these. What marvel then, if there be 
 found men in the world, that can believe that holi- 
 ness is hypocrisy, or a needless thing ? That those 
 are the worst men that are most careful to please 
 God ! that the world is more worthy of their care 
 12 
 
196 
 
 and labour, than their salvation is ! that the plea- 
 sures of sin for a season are more desirable, than the 
 everlasting happiness of the saints ! that cards and 
 dice, and mirth and lust, and wealth and honour, are 
 matters more delectable than prayer, and meditating 
 on the word of God, and loving him, and obeying 
 him, and waiting in the hopes of life eternal ! that 
 gluttons, and drunkards, and whoremongers, and 
 covetous persons, may enter into the kingdom of 
 God, &c. What wonder, if a thousand such dam- 
 nable lies, are believed by the disciples of the father 
 of lies ? What wonder, if there are so many saint- 
 haters and God-haters in the world, as to fill the 
 earth with persecutions and cruelties, or make a 
 scorn of that which God most highly valueth, and 
 all this under pretences of order, or unity, or justice, 
 or something that is good, and therefore fit to pal- 
 liate their sin ! Is there any thing so false, or foul, 
 or wicked, that Satan will not teach his followers? 
 Is he grown modest, or moderate, or holy, or just? 
 Is he reconciled to Christ, to Scripture, to godli- 
 ness, or to the godly? Or is his kingdom of dark- 
 ness at an end? And hath he lost the earth ? Or 
 are men therefore none of the servants of the devil, 
 because they were baptized, (as Simon Magus was,) 
 and call and think themselves the servants of Christ? 
 As if still it were not the art by which he gets and 
 keeps disciples, to suffer them to wear the livery of 
 Christ, and to use his name, that he may thus keep 
 possession of them in peace, who else would be 
 frighted from him, and fly to Christ ! He will give 
 them leave to study arts and sciences, and to under- 
 stand things excellent of inferior use, so be it they 
 
197 
 
 will be deceived by him in the matters of God and 
 their salvation. He can allow them to be learned 
 lawyers, excellent physicians, philosophers, politi- 
 cians, to be skilful artists, so be it they will follow 
 him in sin to their damnation, and will overlook the 
 " truth that should set them free." Yea he will 
 permit them (when there is no remedy) to study the 
 holy Scriptures, if he may but be the expounder and 
 applier of it. Yea he will permit them notionally 
 to understand it, if they will not learn by it to be 
 converted, to be holy, and to be saved. He can 
 suffer them to be eminent divines, so they will not 
 be serious Christians. Thus is the world by the 
 grand deceiver buried in darkness to perdition, be- 
 ing " taken captive by him at his will." But the 
 sanctified are all illuminated by the Holy Ghost, by 
 whom their eyes are so effectually opened, that they 
 " are turned from darkness unto light, and from the 
 power of Satan unto God." " The Father of glory 
 hath given them the Spirit of wisdom and revela- 
 tion, in the knowledge of Christ, that the eyes of 
 their understanding being enlightened, they may 
 know what is the hope of his calling, and vvhat the 
 riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints." 
 Certainly that illumination of the Holy Ghost, 
 which is so often mentioned in Scripture as given to 
 all true believers, is not a fancy, nor an insignificant 
 name: and if it signify any thing, it signifieth some- 
 what that is much above the teaching of man. All 
 that walk with God are taught of God! And can 
 man teach like God? God hath access to the 
 heart, and there he doth transcribe his laws, and put 
 them into our inward parts. And they that walk with 
 
198 
 
 him have not only his word to read, but his Spirit 
 to help them to understand it: and being with hira, 
 in his family, (yea, he dwelleth in them, and they 
 in him,) he is ready at hand to resolve their doubts: 
 when he gave them his fear, he gave them the " be- 
 ginning of wisdom." He causeth them to " incline 
 their ear to wisdom ;" and to " apply their hearts 
 unto it:'* " and maketh them to know it in the hid- 
 den parts." 
 
 It is his law that they have determined to make 
 their rule: they live as under his authority: they 
 are more observant of his will and government, than 
 of any laws or government of man. And as they 
 obey man in and for the Lord, so they do it in sub- 
 ordination to him, and therefore not against him and 
 his laws, which being the standard of justice, and 
 the rule of rulers, and of subjects both, they are in 
 the safest way of unerring wisdom, who walk with 
 God according to that rule ; and refuse to turn 
 aside, though commanded by man, or enticed by 
 Satan, the world, or the flesh. 
 
 5. He that walketh with God is the most con- 
 siderate person, and therefore hath great advantage 
 to be wise. The frequent and serious thoughts of 
 God, awaken all the powers of the soul, so that 
 drowsiness doth not hinder the understanding, and 
 so occasion its deceit. There is scarcely a more 
 common and powerful cause of men's folly and de- 
 lusion and perdition in all the world, than that 
 sleepiness and stupidity which hinder reason from 
 the vigorous performance of its office. In this 
 senseless case, though a man both know and con- 
 sider of the same truths, which in their nature are 
 
199 
 
 most powerful to cleanse and govern and save his 
 soul, yet sluggishness doth enervate them : he 
 knoweth them as if he knew them not, and consider- 
 eth them as if he never thought of them. They 
 . work little more upon him, than if he believed them 
 not, or had never heard of them. Even as a dream 
 of the greatest matters, moveth not the sleeper from 
 his pillow. In this senseless state, the devil can do 
 almost any thing with a sinner. He can make him 
 sin against his knowledge: and when conscience 
 hath frighted him into some kind of penitence, and 
 made him cry out, ' I have sinned and done fool- 
 ishly,' and caused him to promise to do so no more ; 
 yet doth the devil prevail with him to go on, and to 
 break his promises, as if he had never been con- 
 vinced of his sins, or confessed them, or seen any 
 reason or necessity to amend: he doth but imprison 
 the truth in unrighteousness, and bury it in a sense- 
 less heart: whereas if you could but awaken all the 
 powers of his soul, to give this same truth its due 
 entertainment, and take it deeper into his heart, it 
 would make him even scorn the baits of sin, and see 
 that the ungodly are beside themselves, and make 
 him presently resolve and set upon a holy life. And 
 hence it is, that sickness, which causeth men to re- 
 ceive the sentence of death, doth usually make men 
 bewail their former sinful lives, and marvel that they 
 could be before so sottish as to resist such known 
 and weighty truths: and it makes them purpose and 
 promise reformation, and wish themselves in the case 
 of those that they were wont before to deride and 
 scorn; because now the truth is more deeply re- 
 ceived and digested, by their awakened souls, and 
 
200 
 
 appearetli in its proper evidence and strength. 
 There is no man but must acknowledge that the 
 same truth doth at one time command his soul, 
 which at another time seems of little force. It is a 
 wonder to observe how differently the same con- 
 sideration worketh with a man when he is awakened, 
 and when he is in a secure stupid state. 
 
 Now this is his advantage that walks with God. 
 He is much more frequently than others awakened 
 to a serious apprehension of the things which he un- 
 derstandeth. The thoughts of the presence of the 
 most holy God will not suffer him to be secure and 
 senseless as others are, or as he is himself, when he 
 turneth aside from this heavenly conversation. He 
 hath in God such exceeding transcendent excel- 
 lencies, such greatness, such goodness continually to 
 behold, that it keepeth his soul in a much more 
 serious, lively frame than any other means could 
 keep it in: so that whenever any truth or duty is pre- 
 sented to him, all his faculties are awake and ready 
 to observe and improve it. A sermon, or a good 
 book, or godly conference, or a mercy, when a man 
 hath been with God in prayer and contemplation, 
 will relish better with him, and sink much deeper 
 than at another time. Nay, one serious thought of 
 God himself, will do more to make a man truly and 
 solidly wise, than all the reading and learning in the 
 world, which shuts him out. 
 
 6. Walking with God doth fix the mind, and 
 keep it from diversions and vagaries, and conse- 
 quently much helpeth to make men wise. A 
 straggling mind is empty and unfurnished. He 
 that hath no dwelling, for the most part hath no 
 
201 
 
 wealth. Wandering is the beggar's life. Men do 
 but bewilder and lose themselves, and not grow wise, 
 whose thoughts are ranging in the corners of the 
 earth, and are like masterless dogs, that run up and 
 down according to their fancy, and may go any 
 whither, but have business no where. The creature 
 will not fix the soul; but God is the centre of all 
 our thoughts: in him only they may unite, and fix, 
 and rest. He is the only loadstone that can effec- 
 tually attract and hold it steadfast to himself. There- 
 fore he that walks with God is the most constant 
 and unmoveable of men. Let prosperity or ad- 
 versity come; let the world be turned upside down, 
 and the mountains be hurled into the sea, yet he 
 changeth not; let men allure or threat, let them 
 scorn or rage, let laws, and customs, and govern- 
 ments, and interest change, he is still the same. 
 For he knoweth that God is still the same, and that ' 
 his word changeth not. Let that be death one year, 
 which was the way to reputation another, and let 
 the giddy world turn about as the seasons of the 
 year, this changeth not his mind and life (though in 
 things lawful he is of an yielding temper:) for he 
 knoweth that the interest of his soul doth not change 
 with the humours or interests of men: he still feareth 
 sinning, for he knoweth that judgment is still draw- 
 ing on, in all changes and seasons whatsoever: he 
 is still set upon the pleasing of the most holy God, 
 whoever be uppermost among men; as knowing that 
 the God whom he serveth is able to deliver him 
 from man, but man is not able to deliver him from 
 God. He still goeth on in the holy path, as know- 
 ing that heaven is as sure and as desirable as ever it 
 13 
 
202 
 
 was. " Surely he shall not be moved for ever: the 
 righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance. He 
 shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, 
 trusting in the Lord. His heart is established, he 
 shall not be afraid." 
 
 7. He that walketh with God, hath the great 
 master-truths upon his heart, which are the standard 
 of the rest, and the stock, as it were, out of which 
 they spring. The great truths about God, and 
 grace, and glory, have a greater power than many 
 hundred truths of an inferior nature. And moreover, 
 such a one is sure that he shall be wise in the 
 greatest and most necessary points. He is guihy 
 of no ignorance or error that shall keep him out of 
 heaven, or hinder his acceptance with his God. 
 And if he be wise enough to please God and to be 
 saved, he is wise indeed. 
 
 8. Walking with God doth take the vizor off 
 deluding things, and keepeth us out of the reach and 
 power of those objects and arguments which are the 
 instruments of deceit. When a man Lath been 
 believingly and seriously with God, how easily can 
 he see through the sophistry of the tempting world ! 
 How easily can he practically confute the reasonings 
 of the flesh, and discern the dotage of the seeming 
 subtilties of wicked men, that will needs think they 
 have reason for that which is displeasing to their 
 Maker, and tends to the damning of their souls! 
 So far as a man is conversant with God, so far he 
 is sensible, that all things are nothing which can be 
 offered as a price to hire him to sin: and that the 
 name of preferment, and honour, and wealth, or of 
 disgrace, and imprisonment, and death, are words 
 
203 
 
 almost of no signification, as to the tempter's ends, 
 to draw the soul from God and duty. It is men 
 that know not God, and know not what it is to walk 
 with him, that think these words so big and powerful, 
 to whom wealth and honour signify more than God 
 and heaven ; and poverty, disgrace and death, signify 
 more than God's displeasure and everlasting punish- 
 ment in hell. As it is easy to cheat a man that is 
 far from the light, so is it easy to deceive the most 
 learned man that is far from God. 
 
 9. Walking with God doth greatly help us 
 against the deceitful and erroneous disposition of 
 our own hearts. The will hath a very great power 
 upon the understanding: and therefore ungodly, 
 fleshly men will very hardly receive any truth which 
 crosseth the carnal interest or disposition: and will 
 hardly let go any error that feedeth them; because 
 their corrupted wills are a bias to their understand- 
 ings, and make them desperately partial in all their 
 reading and hearing, and hypocritical in their prayers 
 and inquiries after truth. Interest and corruption 
 lock up their hearts from their own observation. 
 Whereas a man that walketh with God, that is 
 jealous, and holy, and just, and a searcher of the 
 heart, is driven from hypocrisy, and forced to behave 
 himself as in the open light, and to do all as in the 
 sight of all the world, as knowing that the sight of 
 God is of far greater cQucern and regard. The par- 
 tiality, corruption, and bias of the heart, is detected 
 and shamed by the presence of God. Therefore to 
 walk with God is to walk in the light, and as chil- 
 dren of the light, and not in darkness. And he that 
 doth truth " cometh to the light, that his deeds 
 
mi 
 
 might be manifest, that they are wrought in God: 
 when every one that doth evil hateth the light; 
 neither cometh to the light lest his deeds should be 
 reproved. And this is their condemnation, that 
 light is come into the world, and men love the dark- 
 ness rather than the light, because their deeds are 
 evil," It tendeth therefore exceedingly to make 
 men wise, to walk with God, because it is a walking 
 in the light, and in such a presence as most power- 
 fully prevaileth againsi that hypocrisy, deceitfulness 
 and partiality of the heart, which is the common 
 cause of damning error. 
 
 10. Lastly, they that walk with God are entitled 
 by many promises, to the guidance and direction of 
 his Spirit. And blessed are those that have such a 
 guide: at once a light in the world without them, 
 and a light immediately from God within them. 
 For so far as he is received and worketh in them, he 
 will lead them into truth, and save them from deceit 
 and folly, and having " guided them by his counsel, 
 will afterwards take them unto glory." Whereas 
 the ungodly are led by the flesh, and often " given 
 up to their own hearts' lusts, to walk in their own 
 counsels;" till at last " the fools do say in their 
 hearts, there is no God;" " and they become corrupt 
 and abominable, eating up the people of the Lord 
 as bread, and call not on his name." " Deceiving 
 and being deceived; sensual, Jiaving not the Spirit;" 
 " who shall receive the reward of their unrighteous- 
 ness, as accounting it pleasure to riot in the day- 
 time." 
 
 IV. Another benefit of walking with God is, 
 that it maketh men good, as well as wise. It is the 
 
205 
 
 most excellent means for the advancement of man's 
 soul to the highest degree of holiness attamable in 
 this life. If conversing with good men doth power- 
 fully tend to make men good; conversing with God 
 must needs be more effectual; which may appear in 
 these particulars. 
 
 1. The apprehensions of the presence and attri- 
 butes of Godj do most effectually check the stirrings 
 of corruption, and rebuke all the vicious inclinations 
 and motions of the soul: even the most secret sin of 
 the heart is rebuked by his presence, as well as the 
 most open transgression of the life: for the thoughts 
 of the heart are open to his view. All that is done 
 before God, is done as in the open light: nothing of 
 it can be hid: no sin can have the encouragement of 
 secrecy to embolden it. It is all committed in the 
 presence of the universal King and Lawgiver of the 
 world, who hath forbidden it. It is done before him 
 that most abhorreth it, and will never be reconciled 
 to it. It is done before him that is the Judge of 
 the world, and will shortly pass the sentence on us 
 according to what we have done in the body. It 
 standeth up in his presence who is of infinite majesty 
 and perfection, and therefore most to be reverenced 
 and honoured: and therefore if the presence of a 
 wise, and grave, and venerable person will restrain 
 men from sin, the presence of God apprehended 
 seriously, will do it much more. It is committed 
 before him who is our dearest friend, and tender 
 Father, and chiefest Benefactor: and therefore in- 
 genuity, gratitude and love will all rise up against 
 it in those that walk with God. There is that in 
 God, before the eyes of those that walk with him, 
 
206 
 
 which is most contrary to sin, and most powerful 
 against it of any thing in the world. Every one 
 will confess, that if men's eyes were opened to see 
 the Lord in glory standing over them, it would be 
 the most powerful means to restrain them from trans- 
 gressing. The drunkard would not then venture 
 upon his cups: the fornicator would have a cooling 
 for his lusts: the swearer would be afraid to take his 
 Maker's name in vain: the profane would scarcely 
 presume to scorn or persecute a holy life. And he 
 that walketh with God, though he see him not cor- 
 porally, yet seeth him by faith, and liveth as in his 
 presence; and therefore must needs be restrained 
 from sin, as having the means which is next to the 
 sight of God. If pride should begin to stir in one 
 that walks with God, O what a powerful remedy is 
 at hand! How effectually would the presence of 
 the great and holy God rebuke it! and constrain us 
 to say, " I have heard of thee by the hearing of the 
 ear; but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I 
 abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." If 
 worldly love, or carnal lust, should stir in such a one, 
 how powerfully would the terrors of the Lord repress 
 it: and his majesty rebuke it; and his love and good- 
 ness overcome it! If worldly cares or murmuring 
 discontents begin to trouble such a one; how effec- 
 tually will the goodness, the all-sufficiency and the 
 faithfulness of God allay them, and quiet and satisfy 
 the soul, and cause it to be offended at its own of- 
 fence, and to chide itself for its repinings and dis- 
 trust ! If passion arise and begin to discompose us, 
 how powerfully will the presence of God rebuke it ! 
 and the reverence of his majesty, and the sense of 
 
207 
 
 his authority and pardoning grace will assuage it, 
 and shame us into silent quietness! Who dare let 
 out his passions upon man, in the presence of his 
 Maker, that apprehendeth his presence? The same 
 I might say of all other sins. 
 
 2. The presence and attrihutes of God appre- 
 hended by those that walk with him, is the potent 
 remedy against temptations. Who will once turn 
 an eye to the gold and glory of the world, that is 
 offered him to allure to sin, if he see God stand by? 
 Who would be tempted to lust or any sinful plea- 
 sure, if he observe the presence of the Lord? Satan 
 can never come in so ill a time with his temptations, 
 and have so little hope to speed, as when the soul is 
 contemplating the attributes of God, or taken up in 
 prayer with him, or any way apprehensive of his 
 presence. The soul that faithfully walks with God, 
 hath enough at hand in him to answer all tempta- 
 tions. And the further any man is from God, and 
 the less he knoweth him, the more temptations can 
 do upon him. 
 
 3. The presence of God affordeth the most power- 
 ful motives to good, to those that walk with him. 
 There is no grace in man, but is from God, and 
 may find in God its proper object or incentive. As 
 God is God, above the creature transcendently and 
 infinitely in all perfections, so all the motives to 
 goodness which are fetched from him, are transcend- 
 ently above all that may be fetched from any crea- 
 ture. He that liveth always by the fire, or in the 
 sunshine, is most like to be warm. He that is most 
 with God, will be most like to God in holiness. 
 Frequent and serious converse with him, doth most 
 
S08 
 
 deeply imprint Ins communicable attributes on the 
 heart, and make there the clearest impression of his 
 image. Believers have learned by their own ex- 
 perience, that one hour's serious prayer, or medita- 
 tion, in which they can get nigh to God in the 
 Spirit, doth more advance their grace, than any help 
 that the creature can afford them. 
 
 4. Moreover, those that walk with God have not 
 only a powerful, but a universal incentive for the 
 actuating and increasing of every grace. Know- 
 ledge, and faith, and fear, and love, and trust, and 
 hope, and obedience, and zeal, and all have in God 
 their proper objects and incentives. One creature 
 may be useful to us in one thing, and another in 
 another thing; but God is the most effectual mover 
 of all his graces: and that in a holy harmony and 
 order. Indeed he hath no greater motive to draw 
 us to love him, and fear him, and trust him, and 
 obey him, than himself. " It is life eternal to know 
 him in his Son:" and that is, not only because it 
 entitleth to life eternal, but also because it is the 
 beginning and incentive of that life of holiness which 
 will be eternal. 
 
 5. Moreover, those that walk with God, have a 
 constant as well as a powerful and universal incentive 
 to exercise and increase their graces. Other helps 
 may be out of the way: their preachers may be 
 silenced or removed: their friends may be scattered 
 or taken from them: their books may be forbidden, 
 or not at hand: but God is always ready and willing; 
 they have leave at all times to come to him, and be 
 welcome. Whenever they are willing they may go 
 to him by prayer or contemplation, and find all in 
 
209 
 
 him which they can desire. If they want not hearts, 
 they shall find no want of any thing in God. At 
 what time soever fear would torment them, they 
 may draw near and put their trust in him. He will 
 be a sure and speedy refuge for them, a very present 
 help in trouble. Whenever coldness or lukewarm- 
 ness would extinguish the work of grace, they may 
 go to him, and find those streams of flaming love 
 flow from him, those strong attractives, those won- 
 derful mercies, those terrible judgments, of which, 
 while they are musing, the fire may again wax hot 
 within them. 
 
 6. Lastly, by way of encouraging reward, God 
 useth to give abundantly of his grace, to those that 
 walk most faithfully with him. He will show most 
 love to those that most love him. He will be 
 nearest to them that most desirously draw nigh to 
 him; while he forsaketh those that forsake him, and 
 turneth away from those that turn away from him. 
 *' The hand of our God is for good upon all them 
 that seek him; but his power and his wrath is against 
 all them that forsake him." 
 
 Thus it is apparent in all these evidences, that 
 walking with God, is not only a discovery of the 
 goodness that men have, but the only way to increase 
 their grace, and make them better. O what a sweet 
 humility, and seriousness, and spirituality appeareth 
 in the conference, or conversation, or both, of those 
 that newly come from a believing, close converse 
 with God ! When they that come from men and 
 books, may have but a common mind or life. And 
 those that come from the business and pleasure of 
 the world and flesh, and from the company of fool- 
 
210 
 
 ish, riotous gallants, may come defiled, as the swine 
 4)ut of the mire ! 
 
 V. Lastly, to walk with God is the best prepara- 
 tion for times of suffering, and for the day of death. 
 As we must be judged according to what we have 
 done in the body; so the nearer we find ourselves to 
 judgment, the more we shall be constrained to judge 
 ourselves according to what we have done, and shall 
 the more perceive the effect upon our souls. 
 
 That this is so excellent a preparative for suffer- 
 ings and death, will appear by the consideration of 
 these particulars. 
 
 1. They that walk with God are most safe from 
 all destructive sufferings; and shall have none but 
 what are sanctified to their good. They are near 
 to God, where destruction cometh not; as the chicken 
 under the wings of the hen. They walk with him 
 that will not lead them to perdition : that will not 
 neglect them, nor sell them for nought, nor expose 
 them to the will of men and devils, though he may 
 suffer them to be tried for their good. No one can 
 take them out of his hands. Be near to him, and 
 you are safe: the destroyer cannot fetch you thence. 
 He can fetch you (when the time is come) from the 
 side of your merriest companions, and dearest friends; 
 from the presence of the greatest princes; from the 
 strongest tower, or most sumptuous palace, or from 
 your heaps of riches, in your securest health: but 
 he cannot take you from the arms of Christ, nor from 
 under the wings of your Creator's love. " For there 
 is no God like him, in heaven above, or on the earth 
 beneath, who keepeth covenant and mercy with his 
 servants, that walk before him with all their heart." 
 
211 
 
 However we are used in our Father's presence, we 
 are sure it shall be for good in the latter end: for 
 he wanteth neither power nor love to deliver us, if 
 he saw deliverance to be best. 
 
 2. Walking with God is the surest way to obtain 
 a certahity of his special love, and of our salvation. 
 And what an excellent preparative for sufferings or 
 death such assurance is, I need not tell any consi- 
 derate believer. How easy may it be to us to suffer 
 poverty, disgrace, or wrongs, or the pains of sickness 
 or death, when once we are certain that we shall not 
 suffer the pains of hell ! How cheerfully may we 
 go out of this troublesome world, and leave the 
 greatest prosperity behind us, when we are sure to 
 live in heaven for ever! Even an infidel will say, 
 that he could suffer or die, if he could but be certain 
 to be glorified in heaven when he is dead ! 
 
 3. Walking with God doth mortify the flesh, 
 and all the affections and lusts thereof. The soul 
 that is taken up with higher matters, and daily seeth 
 things more excellent, becometh as dead to the 
 things below: and thus it weaneth us from all that 
 in the world seeraeth most desirable to carnal men. 
 And when the flesh is mortified, and the world is 
 nothing to us, or but as a dead or loathsome carcass, 
 what is there left to be very troublesome in any suf- 
 fering from the world ? Or to make us loath by 
 death to leave it ? It is men that know not God, 
 that overvalue the profits and honours of the world; 
 and men that never felt the comforts of communion 
 with God, that set too much by the pleasures of the 
 flesh: and it is men that set too much by these, that 
 make so great a matter of suffering. It is he that 
 
212 
 
 basely overvalueth wealth, that whineth and repineth 
 \^hen he comes to poverty. It is he that sets too 
 much by his honour, and being befooled by his pride, 
 doth greatly esteem the thoughts or applauding words 
 of men, that swelleth against those that disesteem 
 him, and breaketh his heart when he falleth into 
 disgrace. He that is cheated out of his wits by the 
 pomp and splendour of a high and prosperous estate, 
 doth think he is undone when he is brought low. 
 But it is not so with him that walks with God: for 
 being taken up with far higher things, he knoweth 
 the vanity of these. As he seeth not in them any 
 thing that is worthy of his strong desires, so neither 
 any thing that is worthy of much lamentation when 
 they are gone. He never thought that a shadow, 
 or feather, or a blast of wind could make him happy; 
 and he cannot think that the loss of these can make 
 him miserable. He that is taken up with God, 
 hath a higher interest and business, and findeth not 
 himself so much concerned in the storms or calms 
 that are here below, as others are, who know no 
 better, and never minded higher things. 
 
 4. Walking with God doth much overcome the 
 fear of man. The fear of him who can destroy both 
 soul and body in hell fire, will extinguish the fear 
 of them that can but kill the body. The threats or 
 frowns of a worm are inconsiderable to him that daily 
 walketh with the great and dreadful God, and hath 
 his power and word for his security. As Moses 
 " esteemed the reproach of Christ greater riches 
 than the treasures of Egypt, because he had respect 
 to the recompence of reward; so he feared not the 
 wrath of the king, for he endured as seeing him that 
 is invisible.'* 
 
218 
 
 5. Walking with God doth much prepare for 
 sufferings and death, in that it breedeth quietness in 
 the conscience. So that when all is at peace within, 
 it will be easy to suffer any thing from without. 
 Though there is no proper merit in our works to 
 comfort us, yet it is an unspeakable consolation to 
 a slandered, persecuted man to be able to say, 
 " These evil sayings are spoken falsely of me, for 
 the sake of Christ; and I suffer not as an evil doer, 
 but as a Christian." And it is matter of very great 
 peace to a man that is hasting unto death, to be 
 able to say as Hezekiah, " Remember now, O Lord, 
 how I have walked before thee in truth, and with a 
 perfect heart, and have done that which is good in 
 thy sight." And as Paul, " I have fought a good 
 fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the 
 faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of 
 righteousness," &c. " For our rejoicing is this, 
 the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity 
 and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by 
 the grace of God, we have had our conversation in 
 the world." Such a testimony of conscience is a 
 precious cordial to a suffering or a dying man. The 
 time we have spent in a holy and heavenly conver- 
 sation, will be exceedingly sweet in the last review, 
 when time spent in sinful vanity, and idleness, and 
 in wordly and fleshly designs, will be grievous and 
 tormenting. The day is coming, and is even at 
 hand, when those that are now the most hardened 
 infidels, or obstinate, presumptuous sinners, or scorn- 
 ful, malicious enemies of holiness, would wish, and 
 wish a thousand times, that they had spent that life 
 in serious, obedient, walking with God, which they 
 
214 
 
 spent in seeking worldly wealth, and laying up a 
 treasure on earth, and feeding the inordinate desires 
 of their flesh. I tell you, it is walking with God, 
 that is the only way to have a sound and quiet con- 
 science; and he that is healing and settling his con- 
 science upon the love of God and the grace of 
 Christ, in the time of prosperity, is making the 
 wisest preparation for adversity ; and the preparation 
 thus made so long before, (perhaps twenty, or forty, 
 or threescore years, or more) is as truly useful and 
 comfortable at a dying hour, as that part which is 
 made immediately before. I know that besides this 
 general preparation, there should be also a particular, 
 special preparation for sufferings and death; but yet 
 this general part is the chief and most necessary 
 part. A man that hath walked in his lifetime with 
 God, shall certainly be saved, though death surprise 
 him unexpectedly, without any more particular pre- 
 paration. But a particular preparation, without 
 either such a life, or such a heart, as would cause it, 
 if he had recovered, is no sufficient preparation at 
 all, and will not serve to any man's salvation. Alas ! 
 what a pitiful provision doth that man make for death 
 and for salvation, who neglecteth his soul, despiseth 
 the commands of God, and disregardeth the promises 
 of eternal life, till he is ready to die, and then 
 crieth out, " I repent, I am sorry for my sin, I 
 would I had lived better;" and this only from the 
 constraint of fear, without any such love to God and 
 holiness, which would make him walk with God if 
 he should recover. What if the priest absolve this 
 man from all his sins? Doth God therefore absolve 
 him? Or shall he thus be saved? No, it is certain 
 
S15 
 
 that all the sacraments and absolutions in the world, 
 will never serve to save such a soul, without that 
 grace which must make it new and truly holy. The 
 absolution of a minister of Christ, which is pro- 
 nounced in his name, is a very great comfort to the 
 truly penitent; for such God hath first pardoned by 
 his general act of oblivion in the gospel, and it is 
 God that sendeth his messenger to them, (in sacra- 
 ments and ministerial absolution,) with that pardon 
 particularised and applied by themselves. But 
 where the heart is not truly penitent and converted, 
 that person is not pardoned by the gospel, as being 
 not in the covenant, or a child of promise; and there- 
 fore the pardon of a minister, being upon mistake, 
 or to an unqualified person, can reach no further 
 than to admit him into the esteem of men, and to 
 the communion and outward privileges of the church, 
 (which is a poor comfort to a soul that must lie in 
 hell,) but it can never admit him into the kingdom 
 of heaven. God indeed may approve the act of his 
 ministers, if they go according to his rule, and deal 
 in church administrations with those that make a 
 credible profession of faith and holiness, as if they 
 had true faith and holiness; but yet, he will not 
 therefore make such ministerial acts effectual to the 
 saving of unbelieving or unholy souls. Nay (be- 
 cause I have found many sensual, ungodly people 
 inclining to turn Papists, because with them they 
 can have a quick and easy pardon of their sins, by 
 the pope, or by the absolution of the priest) let me 
 tell such, that if they understand what they do, even 
 this cheat is too thin to quiet their defiled consciences; 
 for even the Papist's school doctors do conclude, 
 
216 
 
 that when the priest absolveth an impenitent sinner, 
 or one that is not quaHfied for pardon, such a one is 
 not loosed or pardoned in heaven. An erring key doth 
 neither lock out of, nor let into heaven. A godly 
 believer shall be saved though the priest condemn him ; 
 and an unbeliever, or ungodly person, shall be con- 
 demned by God, though he be absolved by the priest. 
 Nay, if you have not walked with God in the 
 Spirit, but walked after the flesh, though your re- 
 pentance should be sound and true at the last, it 
 will yet very hardly serve to comfort you, though it 
 may serve to your salvation; because you will very 
 hardly get any assurance that it is sincere. It is 
 dangerous lest it should prove but the effect of fear, 
 (which will not save) when it cometh not till death 
 do fright you to it. You see, then, how much it 
 is needful to the peace of conscience at the hour of 
 death, that you walk with God in the time of life. 
 
 6. Moreover, to walk with God is an excellent 
 preparation for sufferings and death, because it 
 tendeth to acquaint the soul with God, and to em- 
 bolden it both to go to him in prayer, and to trust 
 on him, and expect salvation from him. He that 
 walketh with God is so much used to holy prayer, 
 that he is a man of prayer, and is skilled in it, and 
 hath tried what prayer can do with God; so that, in 
 the hour of his extremity, he is not to seek either 
 for a God to pray to, or a Mediator to intercede for 
 him, or a Spirit of adoption to enable him as a child 
 to fly for help to his reconciled Father. And hav- 
 ing not only been frequently with God, but fre- 
 quently entertained and accepted by him, and had 
 his prayers heard and granted, it is a great encou- 
 
217 
 
 ragement to an afflicted soul in the hour of distress, 
 to go to such a God for help. And it is a dreadful 
 thing when a soul is ready to go out of the world, 
 to have no comfortable knowledge of God, or skill 
 to pray to him, or encouragement to expect accep- 
 tance with him; to think that he must presently ap- 
 pear before a God whom he never knew, nor hear- 
 tily loved, being never acquainted with that com- 
 munion with him in the way of grace, which is the 
 way to communion in glory: O what a terrible 
 thought is this ! But how comfortable is it when 
 the soul can say, " I know whom I have believed. 
 The God that afflicteth me is he that loveth me, and 
 hath manifested his love to me by his daily attractive, 
 assisting, and accepting grace. I am going by death 
 to see him intuitively, whom I have often seen by 
 the eye of faith ; and to live with him in heaven, 
 with whom I lived here on earth: from whom, and 
 through whom, and to whom, was my life ! I go 
 not to an enemy, nor an utter stranger, but to 
 that God who was the spring, the ruler, the guide, 
 the strength, and the comfort of my life I P^e hath 
 heard me so oft, that I cannot think he will now 
 reject me. He hath so often comforted my soul, 
 that I will not believe he will now thrust me into 
 hell. He hath mercifully received, me so oft, that 
 I cannot believe he will now refuse me. Those 
 that come to him in the way of grace, I have found 
 he will in nowise cast out." As strangeness to 
 God doth fill the soul with distrustful fears, so 
 walking with him doth breed that humble confidence, 
 which is a wonderful comfort in the hour of distress, 
 and a happy preparation to sufferings and death. 
 K 35 
 
218 
 
 7. Lastly, to walk with God, doth increase the 
 love of God in the soul, which is the heavenly tinc- 
 ture, and inclineth it to look upward, and being 
 weary of a sinful flesh and world, to desire to be 
 perfected with God. How happy a preparation for 
 death is this, when it is but the passage to that God 
 with whom we desire to be, and to that place where 
 we fain vvould dwell for ever! To love the state 
 and place that we are going to, being made conna- 
 tural and suitable thereto, will much overcome the 
 fears of death. But for a soul that is acquainted 
 with nothing but this life, and savoureth nothing 
 but earth and flesh, and hath no connaturality with 
 the things above, for such a soul to be surprised 
 with the tidings of death, alas ! how dreadful must 
 it be. 
 
 And thus I have showed you the benefits that 
 come by walking with God, which if you love your- 
 selves with a rational love, methinks should resolve 
 every impartial, considerate reader, to give up him- 
 self without delay, to so desirable a course of life. 
 Or, if he have begun it, to follow it more cheerfully 
 and faithfully than he had done. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Our obligations for "walking with God, 
 
 I AM next to show you that believers have special 
 obligations to this holy course of life, and therefore 
 are doubly faulty if they neglect it: though indeed, to 
 
219 
 
 neglect it totally, or in the main drift of their lives, 
 is a thing inconsistent with a living faith. 
 
 Consider, 1. If you are true Christians, your 
 relations engage you to walk with God. Is he not 
 your reconciled Father, and you his children in a 
 special sense? And whom should children dwell 
 with, but with their Father? You were glad when 
 he received you into his covenant, that he would en- 
 ter into so near a relation to you, as he expresseth: 
 " I will receive you, and will be a Father to you, 
 and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the 
 Lord Almighty." And do you draw back, as if you 
 repented of your covenant; and were not only weary 
 of the duty, but of the privileges and benefits of 
 your relation? You may have access to God when 
 others are shut out: your prayers may be heard when 
 the prayers of the wicked are abominable: you may 
 be welcome, when the worldlings, and ambitious, 
 and carnal are despised. He that dwelleth in the 
 highest heaven, is willing to look to you with respect, 
 and " dwell with you, when he beholdeth the proud 
 afar off." And yet will you not come that may be 
 welcome? Doth he put such a difference between 
 you and others, as to feed you as children at his 
 table, while others are called dogs, and are without 
 the doors, and have but your crumbs and leavings ? 
 And yet will you be so foolish and unthankful, as to 
 run out of your Father's presence, and choose to be 
 without among the dogs? How came your Father's 
 presence to be so grievous to you? and the privileges 
 of his family to seem so vile? Is it not some un- 
 childlike carriage? the guilt of some disobedience or 
 contempt that hath first caused this? Or have you 
 K2 
 
220 
 
 fallen again in love with fleshly pleasures, and some 
 vanity of the world? Or have you had enough of 
 God and godliness, till you begin to grow weary of 
 hira? If so, you never truly knew him. However 
 it be, if you grow as indifferent to God, do not 
 wonder if shortly you find him set as light by you. 
 And believe it, the day is not far off, in which the 
 Fatherly relation of God, and the privileges of chil- 
 dren, will be more esteemed by you : when all things 
 else forsake you, in your last distress, you will be 
 loath that God should then forsake you, or seem as 
 a stranger to hide his face. Then you will cry out, 
 as the afflicted church, " Look down from heaven, 
 and behold from the habitation of thy holiness and 
 of thy glory. Where is thy zeal and thy strength? 
 the sounding of thy bowels, and of thy mercies to- 
 wards me? are they restrained? Doubtless thou 
 art our Father; though Abraham be ignorant of us, 
 and Israel acknowledge us not, thou, O Lord, art 
 our Father, our Redeemer, thy name is from ever- 
 lasting." Nothing but God, and his fatherly rela- 
 tion, will then support you. Attend him therefore, 
 and with reverent, obedient cheerfulness and delight, 
 converse with him as with your dearest Father. 
 For since the beginning of the world, men have not 
 known by sensible evidence, either of the ear or the 
 eye, " besides God himself, what he hath prepared 
 for him that waiteth for him." Though he be 
 " wroth with us because we have sinned, yet doth 
 he meet him that rejoiceth and worketh righteous- 
 ness, that remembereth him in his ways." Say not, 
 I have played abroad so long that I dare not now go 
 home: I have sinned so greatly, that I dare not 
 
'2^1 
 
 speak to him, or look him in the face. Come yet 
 but with a penitent, returning heart, and thou raay- 
 est be accepted through the Prince of Peace. Pro- 
 digals find better entertainment than they did expect, 
 when once they do but resolve for home. If he 
 allow us to begin with " Our Father which art in 
 heaven," we may boldly proceed to ask forgiveness 
 of our trespasses, and vi^hatever else is truly good for 
 us. But, alas, as our iniquities seduce us away 
 from God, so the guilt of them afFrighteth some 
 from returning to him, and the love of them corrupt- 
 eth the hearts of others, and makes them too indif- 
 ferent as to their communion with him; so that too 
 many of 'his children live as if they did not know 
 their Father, or had forgotten him. We may say 
 as Isa. Ixiv. 6 — 9. " But we are all as an unclean 
 thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags, 
 and we all do fade as a leaf, and our iniquities, like 
 the wind, have taken us away: and there is none 
 that calleth upon thy name, that stirreth up himself 
 to take hold of thee; for thou hast hid thy face from 
 us, and hast consumed us, because of our iniquities : 
 but now, O Lord, thou art our Father; we are the 
 clay, and thou our potter, and we are all the work of 
 thy hand. Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither 
 remember iniquity for ever : behold, see, we be- 
 seech thee, we are all thy people." O do not pro- 
 voke your Father to disown you, or to withdraw his 
 help, or hide his face, or to send the rod to call you 
 home! for if you do, you will wish you had known 
 the privileges of his presence, and had kept nearer 
 to him! Be not so unnatural, so unthankful, so 
 unkindj as to be weary of your Father's presence, 
 
(and such a Father's coo) and to take more delight 
 iai any others. 
 
 Moreover, you are related to God in Christ, as a 
 wife unto a husband, as to covenant union, and near- 
 ness and dearness of afFection, and as to his tender 
 care of you for your good: and is it seemly, is it 
 wisely or gratefully done of you, to desire rather the 
 company of others, and delight in creatures more 
 than him? How affectionately doth thy Maker call 
 himself the husband of his people! And can thy 
 heart commit adultery, and forsake him? " My 
 covenant they brake, though 1 was an husband to 
 them, saith the Lord." O put not God to exercise 
 his jealousy. It is one of his terrible attributes, to 
 be " a jealous God." And can he be otherwise to 
 thee, when thou lovest not his converse or company, 
 and carest not how long thou art from him in the 
 world ? Woe to thee if he once say as Hos. ii. 2. 
 " She is not my wife, neither am I her husband." 
 
 Nay, more than this, if you are Christians, you 
 are members of the body of Christ; and^ therefore, 
 how can you withdraw yourselves from him, and not 
 feel the pain and torment of so sore a wound or dis- 
 location? You cannot live without a constant de- 
 pendance on him, and communication from him: " I 
 am the true Vine, and my Father is the husband- 
 man: abide in me and I in you. — I am the vine, ye 
 are the branches: he that abideth in me, and I in 
 him, the same bringeth forth much fruit; for without 
 me ye can do nothing. — If ye abide in me, and my 
 words abide in you, ye shall a^k what ye will, and it 
 shall be done unto you." 
 
 So near are you to Christ, that he delighteth to 
 
5^3 
 
 acquaint you with his secrets'^ O how many mysteries 
 doth he reveal to those that walk with him, which 
 carnal strangers never know ! mysteries of wisdom ! 
 mysteries of love and saving grace! mysteries of 
 Scripture, and mysteries of Providence! mysteries 
 felt by inward experience, and mysteries revealed, 
 foreseen by faith ! Not only the strangers that pass 
 by the doors, but even the common servants of the 
 family, are unacquainted with the secret operations of 
 the Spirit, and entertainments of grace, and joy in 
 believing, which those that walk with God either do 
 or may possess. Therefore Christ calleth you 
 friends, as being more than servants. " Ye are my 
 friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you. Hence- 
 forth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth 
 not what his Lord doth: but I call you friends; for 
 all things that I have heard of my Father I have 
 made known unto you." It is true, for all this, 
 that every true Christian hath reason (and is apt) to 
 complain of his darkness and distance from God. 
 Alas ! they know so little of him, and of the mysteries 
 of his love and kingdom, that sometimes they are apt 
 to think that they are indeed but utter strangers to 
 him; but this is, because there is infinitely more still 
 unknown to them than they know ! What! can 
 the silly shallow creature comprehend his infinite 
 Creator? or shall we know all that is to be known 
 in heaven before we enjoy all that is to be enjoyed 
 in heaven? It is no more wonder to hear a be- 
 liever pant and mourn after a fuller knowledge of 
 God, and nearer access to him, than to seek after 
 heaven, where this will Ije his happiness. But 
 yet, though his knowledge of God be small, com- 
 
224 
 
 pared with his ignorance, that little knowledge of 
 God which he hath attained, is more mysterious, 
 sublime, and excellent, than all the learning of the 
 greatest unsanctified scholars in the world. Walk 
 with him according to the nearness of your relations 
 to him, and you shall have this excellent know- 
 ledge of his mysteries, which no books or teachers 
 alone can give. You shall be effectually touched 
 at the heart with the truths which others do ineffec- 
 tually hear: you shall be powerfully moved, when 
 they are but ineffectually exhorted. When they 
 only hear the voice without them, you shall hear the 
 voice within you, and as it were behind you, saying, 
 This is the way, walk in it. O that you could duly 
 value such a friend, to watch over you, and for you, 
 and dwell in you, and tell you faithfully of every 
 danger, and of every duty, and teach you to know- 
 good and evilj and what to choose, and what to re- 
 fuse! how closely and delightfully would you con- 
 verse with such a blessed friend, if you rightly 
 valued hira ! 
 
 2. Moreover, you that are the servants of God, 
 have by your covenant and profession, renounced 
 and forsaken all things else (as they stand in any 
 opposition to him or competition with him) and have 
 resigned yourselves wholly to him alone; and, there- 
 fore, w^ith him must you converse, and be employed, 
 unless you will forsake your covenant. You knew 
 first that it was your interest to forsake the world 
 and to turn to God; you knew the world would not 
 serve your turn, nor be instead of God to you either 
 in life, or at death; and upon this knowledge it was 
 that you changed your master, and changed your 
 
2^5 
 
 minds, and changed your way, your work, your 
 hopes. And do you dream now that you were mis- 
 taken? Do you beghi to think that the world is 
 fitter to be your God or happiness? If not, you must 
 still confess that both your interest and your covenant 
 do oblige you to turn your hearts and minds from 
 the things which you have renounced, and to walk 
 with him that you have taken for your God, and to 
 obey him whom you have taken for your King and 
 Judge, and to keep close to him with purest love, 
 whom you have taken for your everlasting portion, 
 Mark what you are minding all the day, while you 
 are neglecting God: is it not something that you 
 have renounced? and did not you renounce it upon 
 sufficient cause? was it not a work of your most 
 serious deliberation? and of as great wisdom as any 
 that ever you performed? if it were, turn not back 
 in your hearts again from God to the renounced 
 creature. You have had many a lightning from 
 heaven into your understandings, to bring you to see 
 the diflPerence between them; you have had many a 
 teaching, and many a warning, and many a striving 
 of the Spirit, before you were prevailed with to re- 
 nounce the world, the flesh and the devil, and to 
 give up yourself entirely and absolutely to God. 
 Nay, did it not cost you the smart of some afflictions, 
 before you would be made so wise? and did it not 
 cost you many a gripe of conscience, and many a 
 terrible thought of hell, and of the wrath of God, 
 before you would be heartily engaged to him in his 
 covenant? And will you now live as strangely and 
 neglectfully towards him, as if those days were quite 
 forgotten? and as if you had never felt such things? 
 K3 
 
226 
 
 and as if you had never been so convinced or re- 
 solved? O Christians, take heed of forgetting your 
 former case! your former thoughts! your former 
 convictions, and complaints, and covenants ! God 
 did not work all that upon your hearts to be for- 
 gotten; he intended not only your present change, 
 but your after remembrance of it, for your close ad- 
 hering to him while you live; and for your quicken- 
 ing and constant perseverance to the end. The 
 forgetting of their former miseries, and the workings 
 of God upon their hearts in their conversion, is a 
 great cause of mutability and revolting, and of un- 
 speakable hurt to many a soul. 
 
 Nay, may you not remember also what sorrow 
 you had in the day of your repentance, for your 
 forsaking and neglecting God so long? And will 
 you grow again neglectful of him ? Was it then so 
 heinous a sin in your eyes? and is it now grown 
 less ? Could you then aggravate it so many ways, 
 (and justly,) and now do you justify or extenuate 
 it? Were you then ready to sink under the 
 burden of it ? and were so hardly persuaded that it 
 would be forgiven you ? and now do you make so 
 small a matter of it? Did you then so much won- 
 der at your folly, that could so long let out your 
 thoughts and affections upon the creature, while you 
 neglected God and heaven? and do you begin to 
 look that way again? Do you now grow familiar 
 with a life so like to that which was once your state 
 of death? and bear that easily that once was the 
 breaking of your heart? O Christians, turn not 
 away from that God again, who once fetched you 
 home, with so much smart and so much grace ! with 
 
227 
 
 such a twist of love and fatherly severity ! Me- 
 thinks, when you remember how you were once 
 awakened, you should not easily fall asleep again. 
 And when you remember the thoughts which 
 then were in your hearts, and the tears that were in 
 your eyes, and the earnest prayers which you then 
 put up, that God would receive, and take you for 
 his own, you should not now forget him, and live as 
 if you could live without him. Remember, that so 
 far as you withdraw your hearts from God, and 
 let them follow inferior things, so far you contradict 
 his works upon your hearts; so far you violate your 
 covenant with him, or sin against it ; so far you are 
 revolters, and go against the principal part of your 
 professed religion ; yea, so far you are ungodly as 
 you thus withdraw your hearts from God. Cleave 
 to him, and prosecute your covenant, if you will 
 have the saving benefits of his love and covenant. 
 
 3. Moreover, the servants of God are doubly 
 obliged to walk with him, because they have had 
 that experience of goodness, the safety and sweet- 
 ness of it, which strangers have not. Do you not 
 remember how glad you were, when you first be- 
 lieved that he pardoned and accepted you? and how 
 much you rejoiced in his love and entertainment ? 
 and how much better you found your Father's 
 house, than ever you had found your sinful state ? 
 and how much sweeter his service was, than you did 
 before believe? It is like you can remember some- 
 thing like that which is described in Luke xv. 20 — 
 24. " And he arose, and came to his father: but 
 when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, 
 and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, 
 
228 
 
 and kissed him: and the son said unto him, Father, 
 I have sinned against Heaven, and in thy sight, and 
 am no more worthy to be called thy son. But the 
 father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe 
 and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and 
 shoes on his feet; and bring hither the fatted calf, 
 and kill it; and let us eat and be merry; for this my 
 son was dead, and is alive again ; he was lost, and is 
 found." What would you have thought or said of 
 this prodigal, if, after all this, he should have been 
 weary of his father's house and company, and have 
 taken more pleasure in his former company? Would 
 you not have said, He was a forgetful and unthank- 
 ful wretch, and worthy never more to be received? 
 I do not speak to you now as to apostates, that are 
 turned ungodly, and have quite forsaken God and 
 holiness; but I beseech you consider what it is, 
 after such experiences and obligations as these, so 
 much as to abate your love, and grow remiss, and 
 mindless, and indifferent, as if you were weary of 
 God, and were inclined to neglect him, and look 
 again to the world for your hope, and satisfaction, 
 and delight! As you love your souls, and as you 
 would avoid the sorrows which are greater than any 
 that ever you felt, take heed of slighting the love 
 that hath done such wonders for you, and of dealing 
 so unthankfully with the everlasting God, and of 
 turning thus away from him that hath received you I 
 Remember, whilst you live, the love of your espou- 
 sals. Was God so good to you at first, and holi- 
 ness so desirable? and is it not so still? 
 
 And I am sure that your own experience will 
 bear witness, that since that time, in all your lives. 
 
229 
 
 it never was so well with you as when you walked 
 most faithfully with God. If you have received any 
 falls and hurts, it hath been when you have straggled 
 from him; if ever you had safety, peace, or joy, it 
 hath been when you have been nearest to him: your 
 wounds, and grief, and death, hath been the fruit of 
 your own ways, and of your forsaking him : your 
 recovery, and health, and life, have been the fruit of 
 his ways, and of your adhering to him : many and 
 many a time you have confessed this, and have said, 
 It is good for rae to draw near to God. He hath 
 helped you when none else could help you; and com- 
 forted you, when none else could comfort you. How 
 far are you above the worldling's happiness, when 
 you are nigh to God I One lively thought of his 
 greatness, and excellency, and of his love to you in 
 Jesus Christ, will make the name of wealth, and 
 honour, and favour, and preferment, and sensual 
 pleasures, to seem to you as words of no significa- 
 tion. How indifferent will you be, as to your pros- 
 perity in the world, when you feel what it is to walk 
 with God! If you are lively, experimental Chris- 
 tians, you have found this to be true : have you not 
 found that it is the very health and ease, and pro- 
 per employment of your souls to walk with God, 
 and keep close to him? and that all goes well with 
 you while you can do thus, however the world doth 
 esteem or use you? and that when you grow strange 
 or disobedient to God, and mindless of his goodness, 
 his presence, and his authority, - you are like the 
 stomach that is sick, and like a bone that is out of 
 joint, that can have no ease till it be healed, and 
 restored to its proper place ? No meats or drinks, 
 
230 
 
 no company nor recreation, no wealth or greatness 
 will serve to make a sick man well, or ease the dis- 
 located bones. Nothing will serve a faithful, holy 
 soul, but God; this is the cause of the dolour of his 
 heart, and of the secret groans and complainings of 
 his life, because in this life of distance and imperfec- 
 tion, he finds himself so far from God; and when he 
 hath done all that he can, he is still so dark, and 
 strange, and cold in his affections ! When perse- 
 cution driveth him from the ordinances and public 
 worship, or when sin hath set him at a greater dis- 
 tance from his God, he beraoaneth his soul, as David 
 in his banishment from the tabernacle : " As the 
 hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my 
 soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for 
 God, for the living God: when shall I come and ap- 
 pear before God ? My tears have been my meat 
 day and night, while they continually say unto me. 
 Where is thy God?'' And it is no wonder, if with 
 his greatest joy, he be yet clouded with these sor- 
 rows, because he yet wanteth more of God than he 
 enjoyeth; and his enjoying graces (love and joy) are 
 yet imperfect. But when he hath attained his 
 nearest approach to God, he will have fulness of de- 
 light in fulness of fruition. 
 
 O Christians ! do I need to tell you, that after 
 all the trials you have made in the world, you have 
 never found any state of life that was worthy your 
 desires, nor that gave you any true content, but only 
 this living upon God ? If you have not found such 
 comfort here as others have done, yet at least you 
 have seen it afar off, within your reach ; as men that 
 in the Indies, in the discovery of plantations, expect 
 
231 
 
 gold mines, when they find those golden sands that 
 promise it. You have found a life which is certainly 
 desirable, and leadeth to joy in the midst of sorrow; 
 and it is no small joy to have a certain promise and 
 prospect of everlasting joy. It is therefore more 
 excusable in those that never tasted any better than 
 the pleasures of the flesh, to neglect this sweeter 
 heavenly life, than it is in you, that have been con- 
 vinced by your own experience, that there is no life 
 to be compared with it. 
 
 4. Your walking with God is the necessary prose- 
 cution of your choice and hopes of life eternal. It 
 is your necessary preparation to your enjoying him 
 in heaven. And have you fixed on those hopes 
 with so great reason and deliberation, and will you 
 now draw back and be slack in the prosecution of 
 them ? Have you gone so far in the way to hea- 
 ven, and do you now begin to look behind you, as if 
 you were about to change your mind ? Paul setteth 
 you a better example : " Yea doubtless, I count all 
 things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge 
 of Christ Jesus, my Lord : for whom I have suf- 
 fered the loss of all things, and do count them but 
 dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in him 
 — if by any means I might attain to the resurrection 
 of the dead : not as though I had already attained, 
 either were already perfect ; but I follow after, if 
 that I may apprehend that for which also I am ap- 
 prehended of Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not 
 myself to have apprehended ; but this one thing I 
 do, forgetting those things which are behind, and 
 reaching forth unto those things which are before, I 
 press towards the mark for the prize of the high 
 
232 
 
 calling of God in Christ Jesus." He compareth 
 himself to a runner in a race, that till he apprehend 
 the prize or mark, doth still make forward with all 
 his might, and will not so much as mind or look at 
 any thing behind him, that would turn him back, or 
 stop him in his course. The world and the flesh 
 are the things behind us : we turned our backs upon 
 them at our conversion, when we turned to God: it 
 is these that would now call back our thoughts, and 
 corrupt our affections, when we should run on, and 
 reach forward to the heavenly prize: it is God and 
 heaven, and the remaining duties of a holy life, that 
 are the things before us ! And shall we now look back ? 
 what we, that are running and striving for a crown 
 of endless glory ! we that, if we lose it, do lose our 
 souls and hopes for ever ! we, that have loitered in 
 the morning of our lives, and lost so much precious 
 time as we have done ! we, that have gone so far in 
 our way, and held out through so many difficulties 
 and assaults ! shall we now grow weary of walking 
 with God, and begin to look to the things behind 
 us? Did he not tell us at the first, that father and 
 mother, and house and land, and life, and all things 
 must be forsaken for Christ, if we will be his dis- 
 ciples? These are the things behind us, which we 
 turned our back on when we consented to the cove- 
 nant; and are they now grown better? or is God 
 grown worse, that we turn our hearts from him to 
 them ? When we first began our Christian race, 
 it was upon supposition that it was for that immortal 
 crown, which all the world is not to be compared to : 
 and have we not still the same consideration before 
 us, to move us to hold on till we attain it ? Hold 
 
233 
 
 on, Christians, it is for heaven : is there not enough 
 in that word to drive back all the cares and plea- 
 sures that importune your minds to forget your 
 God? is there not enough in that word to quicken 
 you up in your greatest dulness? and to call you 
 home, when you are wandering from God; and to 
 make you again fall out with all that would reduce 
 you, or divert you, and call it vanity and vexation of 
 spirit? Methinks the forethought of that life and 
 work which you hope to have with God for ever, 
 should make you earnestly desire to have as much of 
 the like on earth, as is here to be attained ! If it 
 will be your heaven and happiness then, it must 
 needs be desirable now. It is not beseeming a man, 
 that saith he is seeking for perfect communion with 
 God in heaven, and that above all things, (as every 
 Christian doth,) to live in a daily neglect or forget- 
 fulness of God on earth. OelightfuUy to draw near 
 him, and exercise all our faculties upon him, or for 
 him, sometimes in prayer and contemplation on him- 
 self, and always in works of obedience to him; this 
 is the life that beseemeth those that profess to seek 
 eternal life. O therefore let us make it our daily 
 work, to keep our God and glory in our eye, and to 
 spur on our dull affections, and in the diligent at- 
 tendance and following the Captain of our salvation, 
 to prosecute our expected end. 
 
 5. Lastly, consider that God doth purposely pro- 
 vide you hard entertainment in the world, and cause 
 every creature to deny you the pleasure and satisfac- 
 tion which you desire, that so you may have none 
 to walk with but himself, with any heart-settling 
 comfort and content. If you see not enough in hina 
 
234 
 
 to allure you to himself, you shall feel enough in 
 the world to drive you to him: if his love and good- 
 ness will not serve you alone to make him your 
 pleasure, and hold you to him in the best and most 
 excellent way (of love), at least the storms and 
 troubles that are abroad, shall show you a necessity 
 of keeping close to God; and the love of yourselves 
 shall help you to do that, which was not done by 
 the attraction of his love alone. If you will put 
 him to it, and send out his command to every crea- 
 ture, to cross and vex you, and disappoint all ex- 
 pectations from it, that so he may force you to re- 
 member your father and your home, deny not then 
 but it is long of yourselves that you were not saved 
 in an easy way. Would you wish God to make 
 that condition pleasant to you, which he seeth you 
 take too much pleasure in already (or seek and de- 
 sire it, at least)? when, as it is the pleasantness of 
 the creature that is your danger, and which detain- 
 eth your thoughts and affections from himself? If 
 you could but learn to walk with him, and to take 
 up your pleasure in his love appearing to you in his 
 creatures, and to make their sweetness a means to 
 your apprehension of the sweetness of his favour, 
 and of the everlasting joys, then you might say the 
 creature doth you good; and then it is like you 
 might be permitted to possess and use it for such 
 pleasure. The jealous God will watch your hearts, 
 though you watch them not; and he will make you 
 know that he seeth which way they run out from 
 him, and what creature it is that is minded and de- 
 lighted in, while he is neglected, as if he were un- 
 suitable, and scarce desirable. And you must never 
 
235 
 
 look that he should long permit you those prohibited 
 delights, or let you alone in those idolatrous inclina- 
 tions. If he love you, he will cure that carnal love, 
 and recover your love to himself that hath deserved 
 it. If he intended not your salvation, he may let 
 you go, and try again whether the creature will 
 prove better to you than himself; but you cannot 
 think, that he will thus let go his children that must 
 live with him for ever. Have you not perceived 
 that this is the design and meaning of his afflicting 
 and disappointing providences? even to leave you no 
 comfortable entertainment or converse, but with him- 
 self, and with his servants, and with those means 
 that lead you to himself? If you begin to desire 
 to lodge abroad in strange habitations, he will un- 
 cover those houses, and will not leave you a room 
 that is dry to put your head in; or he will throw 
 open the doors, and leave all open to the lust of ra- 
 venous beasts and robbers. He will have thy heart, 
 and he will have thy company, because thou art his 
 child, and because he loveth thee. He will allow 
 thee neither thy carnal delights nor hopes. If he 
 perceive thee either taking that pleasure in thy 
 prosperity, which thou shouldst take in him alone, 
 or hoping, at least, that the world may hereafter 
 prove more amiable and delightful to thee; the more 
 he loveth thee, the more his providence shall conspire 
 with his grace to change thy mind, by depriving 
 thee of thy unwholesome, dangerous delights, and 
 of all thy hopes of such hereafter. Use the world 
 as a traveller, for the ends to which it was ordained, 
 to the service of God, and the furtherance of thy 
 salvation, and then thou shalt find that God will 
 
Q36 
 
 furnish thee with all that is necessary to these ne- 
 cessary ends; but if the world must have your love 
 and care, and must be your chief business and de- 
 light, and your excuse for not attending upon God, 
 murmur not, nor marvel not, if he dispose of it and 
 you accordingly. If you are yet too healthful to 
 think with seriousness on your eternal state; if you 
 are too rich to part with all for Christ, or openly to 
 own his cause; if you are too much esteemed in the 
 world, to own a scorned, slandered religion ; if you 
 are so busy for earth, that you cannot have time to 
 think of heaven; if you have so much delight in 
 house or land, or in your employment, or recrea- 
 tions, or friends, that God and godliness can have 
 little or none of your delight; marvel not then, if 
 God do shake your health, or waste your riches, or 
 turn your honour into contempt, and suffer men to 
 slander and reproach you, and spit in your face, and 
 make you of no reputation; marvel not if he turn 
 you out of all, or turn all to your grief and trouble, 
 and make the world a desert to you, and the inha- 
 bitants as wolves and bears. The ffreat lesson that 
 Christ hath undertaken to teach you, is the difference 
 betwixt the Creator and the creature, and tlie dif- 
 ference betwixt heaven and earth. The great work 
 that Christ hath undertaken to do upon you, is to 
 recover your hearts from the world to God ; and this 
 lesson he will teach you, and this work he will do 
 upon you, whatever it cost you; for it must be done. 
 Yet is not the world unjust enough, or cruel, or 
 vexatious enough to you, to teach you to come 
 home, and take up your content and rest in God? 
 It may then prove more cruel, and more vexatious 
 
237 
 
 to you, till you have better learned this necessary 
 lesson. Yet is not your condition empty enough 
 of carnal delusory pleasures, to wean you from the 
 world, and make you look to surer things? Yet 
 are you keeping up your worldly hopes, that the 
 world will again prove better to you, and that you 
 shall have happy days hereafter? It seems you are 
 not yet brought low enough : you must yet take an- 
 other purge, and perhaps a sharper than you took 
 before : you must have more blood-letting, till your 
 delirium cease, and your feverish thirst after crea- 
 ture comforts abate. It is sad that we should be 
 so foolish and unkind, as to stay from God, as long 
 as any preferments, or pleasures, or profits, in the 
 world will entertain us; but seeing it is so, let us be 
 thankful both to that grace and that Providence 
 which cureth us. If you perceive it not better to 
 dwell with God, than with a flattering, prospering 
 world, he will try whether you can think it better to 
 dwell with God, than with a malicious, cruel, per- 
 secuting world; and whether it be better to have 
 your hearts in heaven, than in poverty, prison, 
 banishment, or reproach. If you find it not better 
 to converse with God, than with those that honour 
 you, please you, or prefer you; he will try whether 
 you can think it better to converse with him, than 
 with those that hate, revile, belie, and persecute 
 you. And are these the wise and wholesome me- 
 thods of our great Physician? And shall we not 
 rather be ruled by him, than by our brutish appe- 
 tites? and think better of his counsels, than of the 
 blind concupiscence of the flesh? Let this be the 
 issue of all our sufferings, and all the cruelties and 
 
238 
 
 injuries of the world, to drive us home to converse 
 with God, and to turn our desires, and labours, and 
 expectations, to the true felicity that never will for- 
 sake us ; and then, the will of the Lord be done ! 
 Let hira choose his means, if this may be the end; 
 let us kiss the rod, and not revile it, if this may be 
 the fruit of his corrections. Who will not pray 
 that God would deny us those contents, which keep 
 us from seeking our content in him ? And that he 
 would deny us all those hurtful pleasures which 
 hinder us from pleasing him, or from making him and 
 his ways our chiefest pleasure? and that he would 
 permit us no such creature-converse, as hindereth 
 our converse with him ? It is best living there (be 
 it in prison or at liberty) where we may live best to 
 God. Come home, O suffering Christian, to thy 
 God ! take up thy content and rest in him ; be sa- 
 tisfied with him as thy portion ; and remember where 
 it is that he is to be fully and perpetually enjoyed; 
 and then it is good for thee that thou wast afflicted; 
 for all thy sufferings have their end. 
 
CONVERSE WITH GOD 
 IN SOLITUDE. 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD BAXTER. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 If multitudes, who glory in their Christian name, 
 were not willingly without God in the world, there 
 would not every where be found such melancholy 
 proofs of aversion to sacred retirement. Every 
 moment of time, and every capacity of nature, would 
 not so studiously be consecrated to the low caresses 
 of fellow-worms. Nor would the natural, the un- 
 avoidable, and therefore common disappointments 
 resulting from mortal friendship, be received with such 
 horrible surprise, or be felt with such exquisite pain; 
 like the man that cried out when his idols of silver 
 and gold were stolen from him, " They have taken 
 away my gods, and what have I more?" 
 
 Mr. Henry observes, where it is said of our Lord, 
 He went up into a mountain apart to pray, " They 
 are not Christ's followers, that do not care for being 
 alone; that cannot enjoy themselves in solitude, when 
 they have none else to converse with, none else to 
 enjoy, but God and their own hearts." 
 
 O that all hearts may be so visited with the grace 
 and Spirit of Jesus, as in this instance to make it 
 their highest ambition to breathe his temper, and 
 L 35 
 
242 
 
 imitate his example ! Then the muhitudes, who 
 have so long and ardently sought their heaven in 
 vain, amongst the tumults of business or the thought- 
 less circles of mirth and gaiety, will seek and find it 
 in the recesses of devout retirement. Then will 
 the flames of devotion, wherever they are now 
 ascending, ascend yet higher, burn more constant, 
 pure, and fervent, and produce more lively foretastes 
 of heavenly joy. — That this small, but heavenly- 
 tract, may, through a Divine blessing, contribute 
 to answer such desirable purposes, is the sole end of 
 its appearance in the present form. 
 
 B. F. 
 
CONVERSE WITH GOD 
 IN SOLITUDE. 
 
 JOHN XVI. 32. 
 
 Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be 
 scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone : and 
 yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Friends forsaking us in our distresses. 
 
 1. Christ thought fit to foretel his disciples, 
 how they would manifest their infirmity in forsaking 
 him. This he did, more fully to convince them, 
 that " he knew what was in man," and that he vo- 
 luntarily submitted to his being forsaken. Thus 
 man did least for Christ, when Christ was doing 
 most for man; even making atonement for man's 
 reconciliation to God, and preparing the most effec- 
 tual and expensive remedy for man's recovery. 
 Christ foretold them of the consequence of their 
 infirmity, to humble them, that they might not think 
 L2 
 
244 
 
 too highly of themselves for having so freely con- 
 fessed to him ; " Now we are sure that thou knowest 
 all things, and needest not that any man should ask 
 thee; by this we believe that thou camest forth from 
 God." Immediately " Jesus answered them, Do 
 ye now believe? Behold the hour cometh, yea, is 
 now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to 
 his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not 
 alone, because the Father is with me." Though 
 Christ would have his servants know his graces in 
 them, he would also have them know their own cor- 
 ruptions and infirmities. We are apt to judge of 
 what we shall do hereafter, by what we feel at pre- 
 sent. When we feel the stirring of some corruption, 
 we are ready to think ourselves destitute of the con- 
 trary grace; and when we feel the exercise of faith, 
 or love, we are ready to think we shall never more 
 feel the contrary corruptions. But Christ would 
 keep us both humble and watchful, by acquainting 
 us with the mutability and inconstancy of our minds. 
 When it goes well with us, we forget the time is 
 coming " when it may go worse." We may say to 
 ourselves, as Christ to his disciples, " Do we now 
 believe?" It is well. But the time may be coming, 
 in which we may be shaken by our remaining un- 
 belief. — Do we now rejoice in the love of God? 
 The time may be coming, when we may think our- 
 selves forsaken of God, and that he treats us as 
 enemies. — Do we now pray with fervour? The 
 time may come, when we shall seem to ourselves to 
 be prayerless; or, at least, to pray in vain. What 
 Christ here prophesied of his disciples, exactly came 
 to pass. In the garden, when he was sweating blood 
 
245 
 
 in prayer, they were sleeping. Though " the spirit 
 was willing, the flesh was weak." They " could 
 not watch with him one hour." When he was 
 apprehended, " then all his disciples forsook him, 
 and fled." 
 
 2. In the text there are three things that deserve 
 our distinct consideration. 
 
 1. Christ was forsaken by his own disciples, and 
 left alone. 
 
 2. When the disciples left Christ, they were 
 scattered every one to his own. — They returned to 
 their old habitations, acquaintance, and employments, 
 as if their hopes and hearts had been almost broken, 
 and all their labour lost in following Christ so long. 
 Yet the root of faith and love, which still remained, 
 caus.ed them to inquire farther of the issue, and to 
 meet together in secret to converse with each other 
 about these things. 
 
 3. When Christ was forsaken of his disciples, 
 and left alone, yet he was not forsaken of his Father, 
 nor so left alone as to be separated from him, or 
 from his love. 
 
 Each of these leading sentiments of the text will 
 be more particularly illustrated, while in this chapter 
 we consider the case of friends forsaking us in our 
 distress; and (Chap. 2.) of friends taken from us by 
 death: then (Chap. 3.) what it is to have the presence 
 of God with us in solitude; and (Chap. 4.) why the 
 presence of God in solitude is desirable. To which 
 some concluding directions will be added, (Chap. 5.) 
 to show how the presence of God in solitude is attain- 
 able. — The case of friends forsaking us in our dis- 
 tress, makes it proper to inquire, — Why Christ 
 
246 
 
 suffered all his disciples to forsake him; — how we 
 may see ourselves forsaken by our friends; — and 
 what an aggravated affliction it is to be so forsaken; 
 — besides offering some considerations to reconcile 
 us to such an aggravated affliction. 
 
 3. It may seem strange to us, that Christ would 
 suffer all his disciples to forsake him in his ex- 
 tremity.- — And, I doubt not, it will seem strange to 
 us, when in our extremity, and even in our suffer- 
 ings for Christ, we shall find ourselves forsaken by 
 those we highly valued, and with whom we were 
 most intimate. Providence may permit this, for 
 such reasons as these : — 
 
 Christ, while suffering for sin, permitted the 
 power and odiousness of sin to break forth, that it 
 might be known he suffered not in vain. — He per- 
 mitted his followers to desert him, and thereby dis- 
 cover their secret unbelief, selfishness, and unthank- 
 fulness, that they might know the death of Christ 
 was as necessary for them, as for others; that the 
 disease was universal, and therefore needed a uni- 
 versal remedy. It is not Christ's intent to make 
 his servants seem better than they are, either to 
 themselves or others; or, to honour himself by his 
 hiding their faults ; but to magnify his pardoning 
 and healing grace, by means of those sins which he 
 pardons and heals. 
 
 Hereby he brings his followers to the fuller 
 knowledge of themselves. — He shows them that 
 which ought all their days to keep them humble, 
 and watchful, and at a distance from presumption 
 and self-confidence. When we have confessed 
 Christ, or done him any considerable service, we are 
 
247 
 
 apt, with the disciples, to say, " Behold, we have 
 forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have 
 therefore?" As if they had rather been givers to 
 Christ, than receivers from him. But when Peter 
 forswears him, and the rest fly from him, and after- 
 wards reflect on their ingratitude and cowardice; 
 then they better discern ther weakness, and where 
 their dependence ought to be. 
 
 He also, by this means, teaches them what they 
 would have been, if God had totally left them to 
 themselves. — When our faults have hurt us, and 
 made us ashamed, we shall be thankful for recover- 
 ing grace, and not boast, as if we had " made our- 
 selves to differ from others." 
 
 Our Lord might also design to have no support 
 from man in his sufferings. — It was part of his 
 voluntary humiliation, to be deprived of all earthly 
 comforts, and to bear affliction even from those few 
 that lately were his faithful servants. Thus no man 
 could challenge to himself the honour of contribut- 
 ing in any degree to the redemption of the world; no, 
 not so much as by encouraging the Redeemer. In 
 this way Christ might render the witness of his dis- 
 ciples to him of greater authority. — When all their 
 doubts were dissipated, they would be received, as 
 the most impartial witnesses, by a doubting world. 
 And thus Christ would also teach us, that the best 
 of men are not entirely to be trusted. — Paul lived in 
 a time when Christians were more self-denying and 
 steadfast than they now are ; yet he says, " At my 
 first answer, no man stood with me, but all men for- 
 sook me." 
 
 4. Christians, expect to be conformed to your 
 
248 
 
 Lord in this part of your humiliation. — Are your 
 friends yet friendly to you? Do not promise your- 
 selves an unchanging constancy in them. Are they 
 yet useful to you ? Expect the time when they 
 cannot help you. Are they your comforters, and 
 is their company your delight? Be ready for the 
 time, when they may become your sharpest scourges 
 and heart-piercing griefs ; at least, " when you shall 
 say, We have no pleasure in them." Have any, or 
 all of them, already failed you? What wonder? 
 Are they not men, and sinners? Reprove your- 
 selves, for your unwarrantable expectations, and 
 learn to know what man is. 
 
 Expect some of your friends, whom you have 
 thought sincere, to prove very unfaithful. — Are you 
 better than David, who had an Ahithophel? Or than 
 Paul, who had a Demas? Or than Christ, who 
 had a Judas? " Because iniquity shall abound, the 
 love of many shall wax cold." If pride, vain-glory, 
 and sensuality are unmortified, such persons are not 
 to be trusted. For wealth, honour, or worldly in- 
 terest, they will part with God and salvation; and 
 much more with their best friends on earth. With 
 Job, you may have occasion to complain, ** He hath 
 put my brethren far from me, and mine acquaintance 
 are verily estranged from me. My kinsfolk have 
 failed, and my familiar friends have forgotten me. 
 They that dwell in my house, and my maids, count 
 me for a stranger; I am an alien in their sight. I 
 called my servant, and he gave me no answer. I 
 entreated him with my mouth. My breath is 
 strange to my wife, though I entreated for the chil- 
 dren's sake of my own body. Yea, young children 
 
S49 
 
 despised rae : I arose, and they spake against me. 
 All my inward friends abhorred me; and they whom 
 I loved are turned against me." You may be ob- 
 liged, as well as David, to say, " Yea, mine own 
 familiar friend in whom I trusted, which did eat of 
 my bread, hath lift up his heel against me." Those 
 that have been most acquainted with the secrets of 
 your soul may be your betrayers. They, whom you 
 have laid under the strongest obligations, may prove 
 your most inveterate enemies. Many faithful 
 ministers of Christ have preached, and prayed, and 
 wept for their people's souls; and after all have been 
 reproached and persecuted. Like the patient, that, 
 being cured of a mortal disease, sued his physician 
 at law, for making him sick with medicines. Paul 
 was accounted an enemy by the Galatians, because 
 he told them the truth. Ungrateful truth makes 
 the faithfulest preachers most ungrateful. " I heard 
 the defaming of many," says Jeremiah; " fear on 
 every side. Report, say they, and we will report it. 
 All my familiars watched for my halting, saying, 
 Peradventure he will be enticed, and we shall pre- 
 vail ac^ainst him, and we shall take our revenue on 
 him." Thus must the servants of Christ be used, 
 in conformity to their suffering Head. 
 
 5. Some that are sincere, and whose hearts are 
 with you, may by temptation be drawn to disown you. 
 — When malice is slandering you, timorous friend- 
 ship may perhaps be silent, and afraid to take your 
 part. If Peter's fear can deny his suffering Lo--^' 
 wonder not that faint-hearted friends diso"-- ^^> ^^^° 
 gave them too much occasion to '^- ^°' Vvny may 
 
250 
 
 not we be obliged to say, as David did, " My lovers 
 and my friends stand aloof from my sore ; and my 
 kinsmen stand afar off." 
 
 Many things may occasion sincere friends to fall 
 out.— Paul and Barnabas may grovv so hot as to 
 separate from each other. Easily can Satan, if per- 
 mitted, set the tinder on fire, which he finds in the 
 gentlest dispovsitions. There are no friends so near 
 and dear, whom the infirmities of passion may not 
 either alienate from, or render an affliction to, each 
 other. 
 
 Clashing interests may very much interrupt 
 friendship. — See this in the contentions of Abraham 
 and Lot; of Isaac and Ishmael; of Jacob and Esau; 
 of Laban and Jacob; of Leah and Rachel; of Joseph 
 and his brethren ; of Saul and David ; and Zibah, 
 Mephibosheth, and David ; with many others. It 
 is rare to meet with a Jonathan, that will affec- 
 tionately love unto death the man who is appointed 
 to deprive him of a kingdom. He that can say, ' I 
 suffer by another;' or, ' I am a loser by him;' 
 thinks he has a license for his unfriendly thoughts 
 and actions. When you can gratify the thoughts 
 of the covetous, ambitious and selfish, or so cure 
 their distempered minds, as to fill them with perfect 
 charity, then all the world will be your friends. 
 
 The same may be said of difference in opinions. 
 — If your friend is proud, it is wonderful how he 
 will slight you, and withdraw his love, because you 
 kre 119^ of his mind. If he be zealous, he is easily 
 tempted to iuipk it a part of his duty to God to dis- 
 own you, or grow negligent of your friendship ; be- 
 cause your differing from him is^ as he thinks, either 
 
251 
 
 an evidence of your neglecting God, or of your con- 
 tradicting the truth of God. When all your friends 
 have the same intellectual complexion and tempera- 
 ture, and their understanding is of the same size 
 with your own, then you may hope for an uninter- 
 rupted friendship. 
 
 Some of your friends may, in their own appre- 
 hensions, get above you in wisdom, wealth, or 
 honour. — Upon this, you will grow unsuitable to 
 them. They will pity your weakness, in not seeing 
 the truth which is so clear to their eye; or your 
 simplicity, for hindering your own preferment; and 
 therefore will converse for the future with those of 
 their own distinguished rank. 
 
 Some will think they have now discovered your 
 foibles. — And indeed our defects are so many, and 
 our infirmities so great, that the more men know 
 lis, the more we deserve their pity or reproof. 
 But this will not excuse that neglect of friendship 
 and virtue, which is owing to the pride of those who 
 probably overlook much greater failings in them- 
 selves. 
 
 Some are so changeable, that the same friends 
 will not please them long. — Their love is a flower 
 that quickly withers. Novelty must feed their slip- 
 pery affections. Perhaps they think they have got 
 better friends. — Either they have met with those 
 that are more suitable, or that may be more useful, 
 as having more learning, wealth, or power. Some 
 may think it is their duty to be shy of you under 
 sufferings. — Though they must not desert Christ, 
 they think for their own preservation they may for- 
 sake a fellow-mortal. But they forget their Lord's 
 
^5% 
 
 interesting declaration : " Inasmuch as ye did it," 
 or did it not, " to one of the least of these my bre- 
 thren, ye did it," or did it not, " to me." 
 
 6. Some of your friends, to cover their own un- 
 faithfulness, will plead that they forsake you for your 
 faults. — Thus, by pretending zeal for God, they 
 make a duty of their sin. There are few crimes in 
 the world, that are not hypocritically called by names 
 of piety and virtue. 
 
 Some may really mistake your case, and think 
 you suffer as evil-doers. — So when God had taken 
 away Job's children, riches, and health, his friends 
 would take away the reputation and comfort of his 
 integrity; and, under pretence of bringing him to 
 repentance, they charge him with what he was never 
 guilty of. Censorious, false-accusing friends, cut 
 deeper than malicious, slandering enemies. Even 
 your most self-denying acts of obedience to God, 
 may be so misunderstood by your real friends, as to 
 be turned to your rebuke; like David's " dancing 
 before the ark." Thus friends may do the work of 
 enemies, yea, of Satan himself, " the accuser of the 
 brethren;" and may wrong you much more than open 
 adversaries could have done. But suppose you are 
 chargeable with some real crime; in tliat case, to 
 expect your friend should befriend your sins, or be- 
 have to you as if you were innocent, would but show 
 your ignorance of the nature and usefulness of true 
 friendship, and that there is too much friendship yet 
 subsisting between you and your sins. 
 
 Even the friends that are most faithful to you 
 may be utterly incapable of affording you any real 
 service. — The greatest and best of men are but 
 
253 
 
 " miserable comforters." They may mourn over 
 your sicknesses and pains, without any tendency to 
 heal or ease them. Their ignorance may increase 
 your misery, by attempting your relief. They may 
 exasperate your oppressors, while they think to speak 
 that which may set you free from oppression. Their 
 friendly mistakes may resemble Peter's, when he 
 gave that carnal counsel to his Lord, " Be it far from 
 thee, Lord; this suffering shall not be unto thee." 
 Also when he rashly drew his sword against the 
 officers that came to apprehend Jesus. Love and 
 good meaning will not prevent the mischiefs of ig- 
 norance and error. Your best friends may not only 
 be unable to relieve you, but their suffering may 
 greatly add to your grief. — While your troubles 
 become theirs, theirs will become yours, and your 
 own stock of sorrows be thereby increased. 
 
 And though your friends are both sincere and 
 serviceable, yet they must continue with you but a 
 little while. — Perhaps God will take away your 
 dearest friends, and leave you in the midst of many 
 enemies. If you have but one, perhaps God will 
 separate that one from you, either by death, or in 
 some remote situation. " The godly man ceaseth; 
 the faithful fail from among the children of men." 
 
 7. To be forsaken of our friends, in such circum- 
 stances as have been mentioned, is a greatly aggra- 
 vated affliction. They usually forsake us in our 
 greatest sufferings and straits, when we have the 
 greatest need of them; especially at a dying hour, 
 when all other worldly comforts fail. As we must 
 leave our houses, lands, and wealth, so must we, for 
 the present, leave our friends. Often they fail us, 
 
254 
 
 when we are most faithful in our duty. And per- 
 haps they are persons of whom we deserved best, 
 and from whom we might have expected most. 
 Which of us must not say with David, " All men 
 are liars ;" that is, deceitful, either through unfaith- 
 fulness or insufficiency; that either will forsake us, 
 or cannot help us in time of need. 
 
 8. In order to reconcile our minds to such an 
 aggravated affliction, let us attend to the following 
 considerations : — 
 
 Consider how this affliction sets the creature at 
 a due distance from the Creator. All-sufficiency, 
 immutability, and perfect faithfulness, are proper to 
 Jehovah. Glorious as the sun is, we wonder not 
 at its setting, or being eclipsed; and why should we 
 wonder to have a friend, a pious friend, fail us for 
 a time, and in the hour of our distress? Some 
 friends will not, but all may, if God leave them to 
 their own weakness. Man is not your rock. He 
 has no stability, but what is derived, dependant, and 
 uncertain. Learn, therefore, to rest on God alone, 
 and lean not too confidently on any mortal. 
 
 Consider what a useful discovery this affliction 
 makes of the common infirmity of man. — If any of 
 God's servants live in constant holiness, without any 
 stumbling in their way, it tempts some self-accusing 
 soul to think itself altogether graceless. But when 
 we read of Peter's cursing and swearing that he 
 knew not Jesus; and how he and Barnabas were 
 carried away with dissimulation; and of David's un- 
 kindness to Mephibosheth, the seed of Jonathan; 
 and of his vile treachery to Uriah, a faithful and 
 deserving subject; we are less offended at the un- 
 
^255 
 
 faithfulness of our friends, and are taught to com- 
 passionate their frailty; and also are not so hopeless, 
 when we ourselves have failed God or man. 
 
 Consider how this affliction manifests the mean- 
 ness and carnality of our self-love. — We should not 
 discern this sin in its root, if we did not see and 
 taste it in its fruits. When you have tasted the 
 fruits of your friends' remaining worldliness, selfish- 
 ness, and carnal fears; then you will better know the 
 odiousness of these vices, which thus break through 
 all obligations to God and you, in a direct contra- 
 diction to the light of conscience, and the operations 
 of divine grace. 
 
 9. Consider this affliction as a good remedy 
 against over-loving your friends. — In loving God,, 
 we are in no danger of excess, nnd therefore have no 
 need of any thing to quench it. In loving saints as- 
 saints, and purely for Christ's sake, we are not apt 
 to exceed. Yet our understanding may mistake, by 
 thinking saints have more holiness than they really 
 have; and we are very apt to mix a selfish love with 
 that which is holy; and not merely to love a Chris- 
 tian as a Christian, but to over-love him, because he 
 is our friend. The Christian that has no special 
 love to us, we are apt to under-value; but one that 
 entirely loves us, we love above his proper worth. 
 And if we love any, more for loving us, than for 
 loving Christ, no wonder we are thus afflicted, to 
 cure us of our selfish love. O how highly do we 
 think of their judgments, graces, and conduct, that 
 highly esteem us; when greater excellencies in an- 
 other are scarcely observed ! If we exalt our friends 
 too high in our esteem, it is a sign that God must 
 
Q56 
 
 cast them down. As their love to us was the snare, 
 so their unkindness and unfaithfulness to us is the 
 fittest remedy. God is very jealous of our hearts, 
 while they inordinately love and value any of his 
 creatures, and will rebuke our excess; though the 
 opposite extreme is also odious, to be void of natural, 
 friendly, or social affections. God cannot take it 
 well to see us dote upon dust and frailty like our- 
 selves, at the same time that all his attractive good- 
 ness causes such languid love to him, that we our- 
 selves can scarcely feel it. If therefore he cures us, 
 by permitting our friends to show us how little they 
 deserve such excessive love, when God himself has 
 so little of our love; it is because he is so tender of 
 his own glory, and merciful to his servants' souls. 
 
 Consider also how this affliction leads us to ob- 
 serve and honour the wonderful patience of God. — 
 When our friends forsake us in our distress, es- 
 pecially if we suffer for Christ, it is God they injure 
 more than us; and if He bear with them, and forgive 
 them upon repentance, why should we not do so, 
 who are much less injured? The vile ingratitude 
 of sinners should make us reflect. How great and 
 wonderful is the patience of God, which bears with 
 those that abuse him, to whom they are infinitely 
 obliged ! And how great is that mercy, which hath 
 borne with, and pardoned greater wrongs done by 
 myself to God, than men have ever done to me! 
 When David remembered his sin, by which God 
 was provoked to raise up that son against him, of 
 whom he had been too fond, it made him easily bear 
 the curses and reproaches of Shimei. It will make 
 us bear abuse from others, to remember how ill we 
 
257 
 
 have behaved tovvards God, and consequently how 
 ill we have deserved at his hands. 
 
 10. Consider how this affliction puts us upon our 
 guard, that the love of our friends may not hinder 
 us, when we are called to suffer or die. — When we 
 overlove them, it tears our hearts to leave them, and 
 strongly tempts us to betray the cause of Christ. 
 It is so hard a thing to be willing to die, that it is a 
 mercy to have any thing removed, that makes us 
 unwilling. The excessive love of friends is not the 
 least of those impediments. O how loath is many a 
 one to die, when they think of parting with wife, or 
 husband, or children, or other dear friends ! And 
 if any unkindness happens to arise between such 
 friends, then we are ready to say, ' It is time to 
 leave the world, when my dearest friends thus forsake 
 me!' This helps us to remember our dearest ever- 
 lasting Friend, and to grieve that we have been no 
 truer to him, who would not have forsaken us in 
 .our extremity. Sometimes it makes us so weary of 
 the world, that with Elijah, we say, " Now, O Lord, 
 take away my life." Thus the unkindness of friends 
 is a greater help to loosen us from the world, and 
 often proves a great mercy to a departing soul; and 
 indeed fortifies us against other temptations arising 
 from friendship. When an intimate friend has 
 grown strange, and soon after turned away from 
 every appearance of serious religion, I have known 
 others convinced thereby of the mercy of God, in 
 making their friends' desertion the means of their 
 own preservation. When husbands have done this, 
 and at the same time have behaved inhumanly to 
 their wives, I have often observed how the poor 
 
258 
 
 women have been kept from following them in their 
 apostacy; into which other women have been drawn, 
 whose husbands behaved more kindly. Therefore 
 I must still say, we were undone, if we had the dis- 
 posing of ourselves. We should never be willing 
 to have our friends forsake us; yet God has thereby 
 kept many souls from being undone for ever. 
 
 Once more; consider that our having too much 
 comfort in any creature is very unsuitable to our 
 present state. — The work of mortification much 
 consists in having our enjoyments so far annihilated, 
 that they may have no power to draw our hearts from 
 God, or detain us from our duty. And the more 
 excellent and lovely any enjoyment appears to us, 
 the less it is dead to us, or we to it; and the more 
 will it be able to hinder and ensnare us. 
 
 11. If you seriously consider these things, you 
 will admire the wisdom of God in leaving you under 
 this kind of trial, in weaning you from every created 
 enjoyment, and teaching you by his providence, as 
 well as by his words, to " cease from man, whose 
 breath is in his nostrils; for wherein is he to be ac- 
 counted of?" You will not wonder, that they who 
 live in other sins, should be guilty of this unfaith- 
 fulness to friends. Their obligations to you are 
 nothing in comparison with their great and manifold 
 obligations to God. You know you have more 
 injured God yourselves, than any man ever injured 
 you; and if God bear with you, have you not great 
 reason to bear with others? Are you not more 
 prone to aggravate the wrong which others do to 
 you, than that which you do to them? Nay, you 
 have been much more injurious to yourselves, thau 
 
9.59 
 
 ever others have been to you. Near as you are to 
 yourselves, yet all your enemies on earth, or in hell, 
 have not done you half the hurt that you have clone 
 to yourselves. ' Have I forfeited my own salvation, 
 ^and deserved everlasting wrath, and sold myself and 
 my Saviour for so base a thing as sinful pleasure; 
 and shall I ever wonder that another man does me 
 some temporal hurt? Was my friend so near, or 
 so much obliged to me, as myself? O sinful soul, 
 let thy own, rather than thy friend's treachery and 
 neglects be the matter of thy wonder, thy displea- 
 sure, and complaint ! And let thy conformity to 
 Jesus Christ, be thy holy ambition and delight; not 
 as thy suffering, nor as it is caused by men's sin; 
 but as it is thy fellowship in the sufferings of thy 
 Lord, and caused by his love.' Our conformity to, 
 and fellowship with, Christ in his sufferings, in any 
 remarkable degree, is the lot of his best servants, 
 and the highest of their attainments in the present 
 state; and is therefore neither to be expected with 
 dread, nor borne with impatience, but with holy joy. 
 And if it be so with sufferings for Christ in general, 
 it must be so with this particular sort of suffering; 
 even, to be forsaken of our nearest and dearest 
 friends, when we are most abused by our enemies. 
 
 CHAP. IL 
 
 Friends taken from us by Death, 
 
 1. We are next to consider, why the disciples 
 forsook their Lord, and what they had recourse to 
 
260 
 
 when they left him. — The text says, " Ye shall be 
 scattered every man to his own." Self-denial was 
 not perfect in them, and therefore selfishness pre- 
 vailed in the hour of temptation. They had before 
 forsaken all for Christ. They had left parents and 
 families, estates and trades, to be his disciples. But 
 though they believed him to be the Christ, yet they 
 dreamed of a visible kingdom, and were animated by 
 carnal expectations of being great men upon earth, 
 under Christ as a temporal prince. And therefore 
 when they saw him in the hands of his enemies, 
 under the most ignominious treatment, they con- 
 cluded that their hopes were now disappointed, and 
 in their sudden fright seemed to repent their having 
 followed him. They now began to think that they 
 had lives of their own to save, and families of their 
 own to mind, and business of their own to do. They 
 that had forsook their private interests and affairs, 
 and were gathered together for the sake of living in 
 communion with Jesus Christ and one another, now 
 return to their particular callings, " and are scattered 
 every man to his own." 
 
 2. Selfishness is the great enemy of all societies, 
 of all fidelity and friendship. — There is no trusting 
 any person in whom self is predominant. And 
 where it does not reign, the remainders of it make 
 men walk uneven and unsteadily, both towards God 
 and each other. They will certainly deny God and 
 their friends, in a time of trial, who are not able to 
 deny themselves. Or rather, he that is prevailingly 
 selfish, was never a real friend to any. He has 
 always some interest of his own, which his friends 
 must needs contradict, or are insufficient to satisfy. 
 
261 
 
 His houses, lands, or money, his children, reputa- 
 tion, or something which he calls his own, will fre- 
 quently be the matter of contention; and for the sake 
 of these things, which are so near to him, he will 
 cast off his nearest friend. Contract no special 
 friendship with a selfish man. Put no confidence 
 in him, whatever friendship he may profess. He is 
 so confined to himself, that he has no true love to 
 spare for others. If he seem to love a friend, it is 
 not as a friend, but as a servant, or at best as a 
 benefactor. He loves you for himself, as he loves 
 his money, his horse, or house; because you maybe 
 serviceable to him. When you have no more ca- 
 pacity to serve him, he has no more love for you. 
 
 3. Here it may be proper to offer some advice to 
 such as are lamenting the death of their dearest 
 friends; and doubting whether heaven itself will re- 
 new such friendship, or so much as need it; or, if 
 such friendship be renewed in heaven, whether the 
 enjoyment of it will be so much the more endearing. 
 
 4. They that are lamenting the death of their 
 dearest friends, may find some relief from the follow- 
 ing considerations. — Let it be granted, that you 
 mourn the loss, not of a false friend, but of one of 
 the most sincere, faithful, and intimate. Consider, 
 
 Who deprived you of your friend? — Was it not 
 God? Did not he that gave him to you, take him 
 from you? Did not his Lord and Owner call him 
 home? Can God do any thing unjust? May he 
 not do what he pleases with his own ? Was there 
 any defect of wisdom or goodness, of justice or 
 mercy, in God's disposal of your friend ? Or will 
 you ever have rest, but in submitting to the Divine 
 
26e 
 
 good pleasure ? If your friend had lived as long" as 
 you would have had him, you know not what sin he 
 might have fallen into. — God could indeed have 
 preserved him from sin; but he preserves in the use 
 of means; and sometimes sees that death is the best 
 means for preservation. Had God permitted your 
 friend to have fallen into some scandalous sin, might 
 it not have been much worse than death to him and 
 you? So faithful a friend might have been shaken 
 like Peter, and have denied his Lord; and thereby 
 have appeared as odious in your eyes, as he had ever 
 been amiable. 
 
 You know not what unkindness to yourself, your 
 dearest friend might have been guilty of. — Alas ! 
 there is greater frailty and inconstancy in man than 
 you are aware of. How often have the hearts of 
 parents been broken by undutiful children, whom, 
 in infancy, they would much more easily have fol- 
 lowed to the grave ! Which of us see not reason 
 to distrust ourselves? And why should we promise 
 ourselves more from another than from ourselves? 
 
 Had your friend lived longer, you know not what 
 great calamity might have befallen him. — When 
 the righteous seem to perish, and merciful men are 
 taken away, they are taken away from the evil to 
 come. How many deaths have I lamented, as un- 
 seasonable in my view; but Providence has soon 
 taught me, that their longer life would have increased 
 their misery ! If your friend had survived, what 
 comfort would he have found on earth in seeing and 
 hearing such sins as vexed a righteous Lot from day 
 to day; and perhaps himself at the same time under 
 personal afflictions, temptations, and reproaches ? 
 
^63 
 
 What was the world to your friend, while he did 
 enjoy it ? — Was it not a place of toil and trouble, 
 of envy and vexation, of enmity and poison; of suc- 
 cessive cares, and fears, and griefs; and especially of 
 sin ? Did he groan under the burden of a sinful 
 nature; of a distempered, tempted, troubled heart; 
 of languishings and weakness in every grace; of the 
 rebukes of God, the wounds of conscience, and the 
 malice of a wicked world ? Did you not often join 
 in prayer with him, to obtain deliverance from every 
 burden; and will you now grieve that he has received 
 the answer of prayer ? Is the world a place of rest, 
 or of trouble to yourself; and would you have your 
 friend also to be as far from rest? If your present 
 circumstances are at all easy and peaceful, you little 
 know what storms are near; or how soon you may 
 see the days, hear the tidings, feel the pains, and 
 bear the burdens, which may oblige you to desire 
 death, and confess that a life on earth is no felicity. 
 
 5. Do you think it is for the hurt or good of 
 your friend that he is removed from hence? — It 
 cannot be for his hurt, unless he be in hell. And 
 if he be in hell, he was no fit person for you to take 
 much pleasure in upon earth. He might have been 
 a fit object of your compassion, but not of your 
 complacency. How can you be undone for want 
 of such company as God will not endure in his 
 sight ? And if your friend is in heaven, you should 
 regard his good, as well as your own, and not wish 
 him from thence. If love teaches us to " mourn 
 with them that mourn, and to rejoice with them that 
 rejoice;" can it be an act of rational love to mourn 
 for them that are possessed of the highest everlast- 
 ing joys ? 
 
264 
 
 6. God will not honour himself merely by one 
 servant, but by many. — God best knows when his 
 work is done. When our friends have finished 
 what God intended them to do, is it not time for 
 them to begone, and for others to take their places? 
 God will have a succession of his servants in the 
 world. If David had not died, there had been no 
 Solomon, nor Jehoshaphat, nor Hezekiah, nor Josiah, 
 to honour God in the same throne. 
 
 You must not have all your mercies conveyed to you 
 merely by one instrument. — God will not have you 
 confine your love only to one of his servants. There- 
 fore when one has done his part for your welfare, 
 God will send you other mercies by another hand; 
 and it is fit He should choose the messenger who 
 bestows the gift. If you resolve to have all your 
 mercies in one channel, or refuse to have any more 
 mercies, your case deserves not compassion, but cor- 
 rection. 
 
 Does your esteem for your friend centre in him, 
 in yourself, or in God ? — If in God, why are you 
 troubled to have God dispose of him according to 
 his unerring wisdom? If in your friend; he is now 
 made perfect, and therefore more lovely, and more 
 fit for your joyful complacency. If in yourself only; 
 it is just in God to take him from you, to teach you 
 to prefer God before yourself, and to know better 
 the nature of true friendship, and that your own 
 felicity absolutely depends upon God alone. 
 
 7. Did you get good by your friend while he was 
 with you?— If you only loved him, and made but 
 little use of him for your spiritual profit, God in 
 justice took him from you. Your friend was given 
 
you, as your candle, to work by the light of it; as 
 your raiment, to wear it; as your food, to feed upon 
 it. Did you receive his counsel, and hearken to 
 his reproofs, and pray and converse with him, so as 
 to elevate your thoughts to God, and inflame your 
 breast with sacred love? 
 
 8. And are you not too forgetful where you your- 
 self now are, and where you must shortly be for 
 ever? — Where would you have your friend, but 
 where you must be yourself? If he had stayed 
 here a thousand years, how little of that time could 
 you have had of his company? When you are 
 almost leaving the world yourself, would you not 
 send your treasure before you? How soon shall 
 you go from hence to God, where you shall find 
 your friend, whom you lamented as if he had been 
 lost, and there shall dwell with him for ever? O 
 foolish mourner! would you not have your friend 
 at home; at his home and yours; with " his Father 
 and your Father, his God and your God?" Can 
 you miss him so much for a day, when you have the 
 prospect of living with him to all eternity ! 
 
 9. Notwithstanding what has been suggested, 
 some may doubt whether heaven itself will renew 
 the friendship they have lost. — To scatter such a 
 distressing apprehension, let the following reasons, 
 for expecting your friendship to revive again in 
 heaven, be attended to. 
 
 You cannot justly think that the knowledge of 
 glorified saints shall be more imperfect, than their 
 knowledge was while they were upon earth. We 
 shall know much more, but not less than before. 
 Heaven exceeds earth in knowledge, as much as it 
 M 35 
 
^66 
 
 does in joy. The angels in heaven have now a 
 distinct knowledge of the least believers on earth, 
 Dud rejoice in their conversion, and are styled by 
 Christ, " their angels." Therefore when we shall 
 be equal to the angels, we shall certainly know our 
 nearest friends, who will have their share with us in 
 that glory. Abraham knew the rich man in hell, 
 and the rich man knew Abraham and Lazarus: 
 therefore we shall have as distinct a knowledge. 
 The two disciples knew Moses and Elijah in the 
 mount, whom they had never seen before: much more 
 shall we be made to know the saints in heaven. 
 Our present knowledge shall be done away in heaven, 
 only in regard to its imperfection: or, when that 
 which is perfect is come: just as we put away childish 
 things, when we become men. The change is from 
 seeing through a glass, to seeing face to face; and 
 from knowing in part, to knowing even as we also 
 are known. 
 
 10. And though God be all in all in heaven, yet 
 we shall there, not only know, but love and rejoice 
 in fellow-creatures. For Christ, in his glorified 
 human nature, is a creature; and as such, will no 
 doubt be known and loved by all his members, with- 
 out any diminution of the glory of his Divine nature. 
 The several members of the body of Christ will, in 
 heaven, be so nearly related to each other, that they 
 must know and love each other, and not be uncon- 
 cerned in each other's felicity. The future trium- 
 phant state of the church is often described in 
 Scripture, as a kingdom, the city of God, the new 
 Jerusalem; each of which implies a society. The 
 saints themselves are called kings; and it is said of 
 
267 
 
 them, that they " shall judge the world, and shall 
 judge angels;" they must therefore have a distinct 
 knowledge of the persons and things which are to 
 be subjected to their judgment. As one part of the 
 saints' happiness, they are to " come from the east 
 and west, and sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, 
 and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven ;" and therefore 
 shall not only know those great patriarchs, but shall 
 take peculiar delight in their presence and converse. 
 Besides, love to saints, as well as to God, is a grace 
 that never faileth. 
 
 11. God can make use of glorified creatures, in 
 subordination to himself, so as to be no diminution 
 to his own all-sufficiency. Nor must we conceive 
 of heaven itself, as if it had no use for fellow-crea- 
 tures, nor any comfort in them. Though " flesh 
 and blood shall not enter into that kingdom," but 
 our bodies shall be spiritual, yet at the resurrection 
 God shall give to every soul " its own body," and a 
 body distinct from the soul: which must therefore 
 have a felicity suited to a glorified body. And 
 though it is said of knowing Christ after the flesh, 
 " now henceforth know we him no more," it can only 
 mean, that a carnal knowledge shall be turned into 
 a spiritual. Thus the excellency of our knowledge 
 of Christ in heaven, resembles the glory of our hea- 
 venly bodies, which shall be made to " shine forth as 
 the sun in the kingdom of our Father." 
 
 12. And if any should still doubt, whether the 
 friendship that is renewed in heaven will be so much 
 the more endearing, let such take the following an- 
 swer. 
 
 If you should have all your happiness immediately 
 M2 
 
268 
 
 and solely in God, you will sUwStain no loss.— Or, if 
 you should have as much happiness in other friends, 
 whom you never knew before, that will not diminish 
 your enjoyment of your former friends. — But most 
 probably your love to glorified saints will distinctly 
 regard them, both for their holiness, and for their 
 relation to you. As holiness is the chief excellence, 
 no doubt you will love those most, that will have 
 most of God and glory, though you never knew 
 them upon earth. And amongst those, whom you 
 knew upon earth, you will certainly love them best 
 whom God made use of for your greatest good, and 
 who were the instruments of your conversion and 
 salvation. It is manifest that our benefactors shall 
 have our peculiar regard in heaven; because we shall 
 there for ever remember, love, and praise, " Him 
 that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his 
 own blood, and made us kings and priests unto God." 
 And, therefore, we shall also remember others with 
 love and thankfulness, in just subordination to 
 Christ, and in proportion as they were our friends 
 for Jesus' sake. 
 
 13. The never-failing nature of love is a principal 
 motive to kindle and increase it. Thus God draws 
 us to every holy duty, by showing us the excellency 
 of that duty; and it is no small excellency to say, 
 that it " never fails." They, therefore, that think 
 they shall have no personal knowledge of each other, 
 nor personal love to each other, in heaven, take the 
 most effectual course to destroy in their souls all 
 holy love to those " especially that are of the house- 
 hold of faith." I am not able to love much, where 
 I foresee 1 am not to love long. I cannot love 
 
269 
 
 an inn so well as my own house; because I am 
 sooner to leave it. I must love my Bible better 
 than books of law, or physic; because it leads to 
 eternity. I must love holiness in myself and others, 
 better than food and raiment, or riches and honours, 
 or beauty and pleasures; because that must be loved 
 for ever; while the love of these is as transitory as 
 the things themselves. 
 
 I must confess, as the experience of my own soul, 
 that the expectation of loving my friends in heaven, 
 principally kindles my love to them on earth. If I 
 thought I should never know them, and consequently 
 never love them, after this life is ended, I should in 
 reason number them with temporal things, and love 
 them as such, at the same time allowing for the ex- 
 cellent nature of grace. But I now delightfully 
 converse with my godly friends, in a firm persuasion 
 that I shall converse with them for ever; and I take 
 comfort in those of them that are dead or absent, 
 as believing I shall shortly meet them in heaven; 
 and love them, I hope, with a heavenly love, as the 
 heirs of heaven, even with a love that shall there be 
 perfected, and more fully and for ever exercised. 
 
 CHAP. 111. 
 
 The Presence of God with us in Solitude, 
 
 1. To the reasons already assigned for bearing 
 the loss of friends, this may be added; that it gives 
 us the loudest call to retire from all the world, and 
 
270 
 
 to converse with God himself, and affords us some 
 assistance in such divine converse. But this brings 
 us to the third part of the text, where our Lord says, 
 " And yet I am not alone, because the Father is 
 with me." — He that is with the King is not alone, 
 though forsaken by all others. He on whom the 
 sun shines is not without light, though all his candles 
 are put out. If God be our God, he is our all. 
 And if God be our all, we shall not, while he is with 
 us, find the want of creatures. For, 
 
 He is with us, who is every where, and therefore 
 is -never from us. 
 
 He is with us, who is almighty, and therefore we 
 need not fear what man can do unto us. He Can 
 deliver us, when and how he pleases, from every 
 danger and di&tress. 
 
 He is with us, who is infinitely wise, to preserve 
 us even from our own folly, as well as from our 
 enemy's subtilty. He knows what to do with us, 
 in what paths to lead us, and what condition is best 
 for us. 
 
 He is with us, who is infi^nitely good; alone fit to 
 be the perpetual delight of our souls. There is 
 nothing in him to disaffect or discourage us. We 
 may love him, without fear of over-loving. 
 
 He is with us, who is intimately related to us. 
 He most dearly loves, and will never withhold any 
 thing from us that is for our real good. 
 
 2. This is he that is with us, when all have left 
 us. But as to the manner how he is with us, let us 
 more particularly observe. He is with us, by his 
 gracious fatherly presence; sufficiently to do us good; 
 and entertain us with his holy converse. 
 
271 
 
 3. God is with us by his gracious fatherly pre- 
 sence. And not merely as he is every where, Iby 
 his essential presence : we are in his family, attend- 
 ing on him, " as the eyes of servants look unto the 
 hand of their masters." As his children, " we are 
 ever with hira, and all that he hath is ours;" that is, 
 all that is fit to be communicated to us. " When 
 we awake," we should " still be with him." When 
 we go abroad, we should behave as " always before 
 him." Our life and works should be a " walking 
 with God." 
 
 4. God is always with us, sufficiently to do us 
 good.— Though we have none else to care for us ; 
 yet he will never cast us out of his care, but bids us 
 cast all our care upon him, and promises that he will 
 care for us. Though we have none else to provide 
 for us, " our heavenly Father knoweth all the things 
 we need," and will make the best provision. Though 
 we have none else to defend us, he is our " sure de- 
 fence;" the rock to which we fly, and upon which 
 we are surely built. He gathers us to himself, 
 *' even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her 
 wings." And while love is thus protecting us, we 
 may well say, " the Father is with us." Though 
 we have none else to support us when we are weak; 
 yet " his grace is sufficient for us; for his strength 
 is made perfect in weakness." Though we have 
 none to teach us, and resolve our doubts ; yet the 
 Master of assemblies is with us, and " will guide 
 us into all truth." Though we have none else to 
 comfort us in darkness and distress; yet, like Flagar 
 in the wilderness, we shall have reason to say, 
 ** Thou God seest us." Though all our friends. 
 
£7^ 
 
 like Job's, turn our enemies, and add affliction to 
 our affliction; yet he says, " hitherto shall he come, 
 but no further, and here shall your proud waves be 
 stayed." Though we say with David, " We looked 
 on our right hand, and beheld, but there was no man 
 that would know us; refuge failed us; no man cared 
 for our souls ;" yet we may add, as he does, " O 
 Lord, thou art my refuge, and my portion in the 
 land of the living." Though, like David, we also 
 complain, " Our enemies speak evil of us, whisper 
 together against us, and desire our hurt;" yet we 
 may share his consolation, and say, " Thou, Lord, 
 upholdest us in our integrity, and settest us before 
 thy face for ever." Though friends be far off: yet 
 " the Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken 
 heart, and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit." — 
 Thus God is with us, when men are against us, or 
 far from us. His people find by happy experience, 
 that they are not alone. '' His hand is with them 
 to keep them from evil, that it may not grieve them, 
 but work together for their good." He is " their 
 hiding-place, to preserve them from trouble; surely 
 the floods of great waters shall not come nigh unto 
 them; he shall compass them about with songs of 
 deliverance." 
 
 5. God is also with us, to entertain us with his 
 holy converse. — Wherever our friends are, God is 
 still at hand to be the most profitable, honourable, 
 and delightful subject of our meditations. There is 
 enough in him to employ all the faculties of our 
 souls. A person, in a well furnished library, or in- 
 deed in the various volume of the visible creation, 
 may excellently engage his thoughts for many years' 
 
273 
 
 together ; but all would be nothing, unless God was 
 the sense of books and creatures, and the substance 
 of all these noble studies. He that is alone, and 
 has only God himself to study, need never want 
 matter for his meditation. Nor need he want matter 
 for discourse, who has God to talk of, though he 
 has not the name of any other friend to mention. 
 He has no want either of work or pleasure, who can 
 spend his solitary hours in the believing contempla- 
 tions of eternal love, and of all the Divine attributes 
 and works. 
 
 What delightful converse, then, may a serious 
 Christian have with God alone ! He is always pre- 
 sent, always at leisure to be spoken with, always easy 
 of access ! He has no interest that will clash with 
 our happiness. He never mistakes our meaning, or 
 our character. If we converse with men, their pas- 
 sions and interests, their errors and weaknesses, 
 render the trouble so great, and the benefit so small, 
 that many have become thereby weary of the world, 
 and have spent the rest of their time in deserts. In 
 proportion, indeed, as any thing of God appears in 
 men, their converse is excellent and delightful. 
 But there is so much of vanity and sin in all of us, 
 as exceedingly darkens our light, and damps the 
 pleasure, and blasts the profit of our mutual converse. 
 
 How often have I been delighted in God, when 
 I have found most deceit and darkness in the world ! 
 How often has he comforted me, when it was not in 
 man to do it ! How often has he relieved and de- 
 livered me, when all other help failed me ! Look- 
 ing to him has been my stay and rest, when the 
 M3 
 
274 
 
 creature has been a bruised reed, or as a broken 
 tooth, and a foot out of joint. 
 
 6. As followers of Christ, let us endeavour to 
 imitate hira in this, to live upon God when men 
 forsake us : and to be persuaded that while God is 
 with us, we are not alone, nor forsaken. — Not that 
 we are therefore to undervalue our useful friends, 
 nor be unthankful for so great a blessing as a godly 
 friend, nor be negligent in improving the company 
 and help of such. " Twa are better than one." 
 The communion of saints is a mercy highly to be 
 esteemed; and the under-valuing of it is at least a 
 sign of declension in the spiritual life. — Nor are we 
 on any pretence to slight our friends, and disoblige 
 them, or neglect any duty that we owe them, or any 
 means necessary to the regular continuance of their 
 friendship. — Nor must we, without cause, retire from 
 human society into solitude. To be weary of con- 
 versing with men, is often connected with a weari- 
 ness of our duty. A voluntary retirement into soli- 
 tude, when God does not call or drive us thither, is 
 but retiring from the place or work which God has 
 appointed us; and consequently a retiring rather 
 from God than to God. Like some idle servants, 
 that think they should not work so hard because it 
 is but worldly business; and think their masters deal 
 not religiously by them, unless they allow them to 
 neglect their labour, that they may spend more time 
 in serving God; as if it were not serving God to be 
 faithful in their masters' service. 
 
 7. It must be acknowledged that very holy per- 
 sons have lived in a state of retirement from human 
 
27-5 
 
 converse. There are several circumstances In which 
 this may become a duty. As for instance; When 
 persecution leaves us no opportunity of serving or 
 honouring God in anjr other situation — When na- 
 tural infirmity, or any other accident, renders a per- 
 son less serviceable to God and his church in society, 
 than in solitude — When a person has committed a 
 sin of such a scandalous nature, that, though he be 
 truly penitent for it, no particular church can be 
 satisfied to receive him into full communion — W^hen 
 some peculiar temptations can, after frequent trials, 
 be no other ways effectually resisted, but by refrain- 
 ing from human converse — Also, when a person by 
 age or sickness finds himself so near to death, that 
 his actual preparation for it will be greatly promoted 
 by solitude. 
 
 8. But when retirement from human converse 
 has no such necessary call, it usually proceeds from 
 some vicious distemper: — Perhaps from cowardice, 
 when the soldiers of Christ, for fear of suffering, 
 hide their heads, instead of confessing him before 
 men, — Or from indolence and weariness of duty, 
 when slothful and unprofitable servants hide their 
 Lcfrd's talents. For it is easier to run away from 
 our work than to do it; and to go out of the reach 
 of ignorance, malice, contradiction, and ungodliness, 
 than to encounter and conquer them by the word of 
 truth and a life of holiness; and to hide ourselves in 
 some wilderness or cell, whilst others are fighiing 
 the battles of the Lord. — Or it may be owing to 
 mere impatience. When w^e cannot bear the 
 frowns, and scoffs, and violence of the ungodly, we 
 fly from such trials, which we ought to overcome by 
 
276 
 
 patience. — Or it may proceed from humour and dis- 
 content with our condition. Many retire from human 
 converse to gratify their peevish resentment, expect- 
 ing to find that in privacy, which they could not in 
 public, nor is to be found any where on earth.-— 
 Sometimes it proceeds from melancholy, which is vexed 
 in company, and indulges its own sickly imagination, 
 by living, like the man possessed, amongst the tombs. 
 - — And sometimes it proceeds from pride and self- 
 ignorance. If we think much better of ourselves 
 than of others, we shall despise their converse. On 
 the contrary, we should consider what proud, worldly, 
 selfish, and disordered hearts we are like to carry 
 with us into solitude, and that the nearest enemy is 
 the worst, and the nearest trouble the greatest. 
 
 9. Thus many are led into solitude by their in- 
 firmities or vices; and if they live where popish 
 vanity may seduce them, they will perhaps imagine 
 that they are serving God, and entering into perfec- 
 tion, when they are but obeying their sinful inclina- 
 tions. The duties of a public life are undoubtedly 
 more in number, greater in weight, and of more ex- 
 cellent tendency to the honour of God, and the 
 good of society, than the duties of retirement. " A 
 good man," says Seneca, " is a common good. Nor 
 can any thing be a common good, except every one 
 has some share in it." Therefore, to prevent the 
 evil of voluntary and unnecessary solitude, let the 
 following considerations be attended to. As for in- 
 stance ; 
 
 While you do good but to few, and live almost 
 to yourselves, you are too little promoting the 
 honour of the Redeemer, and his kingdom in the 
 
277 
 
 world, and too little subserving the design of his 
 death and resurrection. — You will live in the greatest 
 deficiency of the grace of charity, and therefore in a 
 low and very undesirable state. — You will want the 
 communion of saints, the benefit of public ordi- 
 nances, and the edifying gifts and graces of others. 
 In proportion to your doing so little good to others, 
 you will have the less comfort yourselves. They 
 have usually the most peace and comfort in them- 
 selves, that are the most profitable to others. " You 
 must live for others, if you would live yourself," 
 says Seneca: " for we can never be properly said to 
 live well, when all our attention is fixed upon our- 
 selves." O the delight that there is in doing good 
 to many! None know it, that have not tried it. 
 Not because such delight is owing to merit, but to 
 the pleasing of God, and to the sweet and amiable 
 nature of goodness itself, and to the efficacy of Di- 
 vine promises, and because we receive by communi- 
 cating, and because charity makes all the good we 
 do to another to be to us as our own. 
 
 10. Considering, also, how dark and partial we 
 are, and how heedless we are of ourselves, and with 
 what difficulty we get or maintain acquaintance with 
 our hearts, we so much the more need the eye of 
 others. Even an enemy's eye may be useful, though 
 malicious; and may do us good, while it intends 
 evil. " An evil," says Bernard, " which none sees, 
 none reproves; and where there is no fear of being 
 reproved, the tempter will be the more bold, and sin 
 will be practised with less hesitation." It is hard to 
 know the spots in our faces, when we have neither 
 glass nor beholder, to acquaint us with them. " So- 
 
278 
 
 litude,*' says Chrysostom, " is the cover of all vices." 
 In company this cover is laid aside, and vice, being 
 more naked, is more ashamed. Beholders occasion 
 the shame, which solitude is not acquainted with; and 
 it is a piece of impenitency not tobe ashamed of sin.— 
 And we are for the most part so weak and sickly, that 
 we are unable to subsist without the help of others. 
 God has left some impotency, insufficiency, and ne- 
 cessity upon all, which should keep all men sociable, 
 and make them acknowledge their need of others, 
 and be thankful for their assistance, and be ready to 
 do the good to others, which they would have others 
 do to them. 
 
 11. In privacy, pride will have great advantage, 
 and repentance great disadvantage. " Any per- 
 son," as Cassianus observes, " may think himself 
 patient and humble, as long as he keeps out of com- 
 pany; but his depraved nature will soon appear, 
 whenever it meets with any provocation." We 
 cannot easily know what sin or grace is in us, if we 
 have not such trials as are not to be found in soli- 
 tude. 
 
 Flying from the observation and judgment of 
 others, is a kind of self-accusation; as if we con- 
 fe'ssed ourselves to be so bad, that we cannot stand 
 the trial of the light. " A good conscience," says 
 Seneca, " appeals to the multitude; but a bad con- 
 science is perplexed with anxious thoughts, even in 
 solitude. If what you do be truly good, let all men 
 know it: if it be wicked, it is in vain to conceal it 
 from others, while you know it yourself. And if 
 you despise this single witness, how great is your 
 misery!" SoHtude is too much like death to be 
 
279 
 
 desirable. He that does good is alive; but he is 
 dead that is useless. " He," says Seneca, " lives 
 indeed, who is serviceable to many. Numbers feel 
 that he has life; while they that lie hid in a stupid 
 inactivity, even anticipate their own death." And it 
 is the most culpable death, and therefore the worst, 
 to have live, and not to use it. 
 
 Once more: consider, that the nearest resemblance 
 to heaven is a life of holy communion. In the hea- 
 venly Jerusalem none shall be solitary; but all the 
 members shall, in perfect harmony, love and praise 
 their Maker and Redeemer, 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 W/ii/ the Presence of God i?i Solitude is desirable. 
 
 1. If God calls us into solitude, or if men for- 
 sake us, we may rejoice in this, that " we are not 
 alone, because the Father is with us." Fear not 
 such solitude, but be ready to improve it, if you be 
 cast upon it. If God be your God, reconciled to 
 you in Christ, and his Spirit be in you, you are pro- 
 vided for solitude, and need not fear if all the world 
 should cast you off. If you be banished, imprisoned, 
 or left alone, it is but a relaxation from your greatest 
 labours, a cessation of your sharpest conflicts, and 
 your removal from a multitude of great temptations. 
 Though you may not cowardly retreat, or run away, 
 from the sight of danger; yet if God will dispense 
 with you, and let you live in greater peace and safety, 
 
280 
 
 you have no cause to murmur. A fruit-tree that 
 grows by the highway side, seldom keeps its fruit to 
 ripeness within the reach of so many passengers. 
 Even Seneca could say, " I never bring so good a 
 temper out of company as I took into it. What I 
 had been regulating, is put out of order. What I 
 had banished from my mind, gains admittance again. 
 Thus I receive great hurt from having much com- 
 pany." How many vain and foolish words corrupt 
 the minds of those that converse with an ungodly 
 world; while solitude is free from such temptations! 
 In solitude, you breathe not in so corrupt an air; 
 you hear not the speeches which offend piety, mo- 
 desty, and charity; nor the complaints of the dis- 
 contented ; nor the bitter words of the angry ; nor 
 the wranglings of the contentious ; nor the slanders 
 and reproaches of the malicious; nor the revilings of 
 the ungodly cast upon the righteous; nor how the 
 erroneous artfully corrupt the minds of the unwary; 
 nor the distractions and clamours, too common in 
 religious disputes; nor are pained with the oaths and 
 blasphemies of the wicked, the imprudences of the 
 weak, the persecutions of enemies, or the falling out 
 of friends. In your solitude with God, you will not 
 see the cruelty of proud oppressors; nor prosperity 
 of the wicked, to excite your envy; nor the adversity 
 of the righteous, to stir up your grief; nor worldly 
 pomp to dazzle you; nor fading beauty to entice 
 you; nor wasting calamities to afflict you. As you 
 lose the help of your gracious friends, so you are 
 freed from the effects of their peevishness, and other 
 manifold imperfections. In a word, you are there 
 half delivered from the vanity and vexations of the 
 
281 
 
 world. And were it not that you are yet undeli- 
 vered from yourselves, and your own depraved hearts, 
 what felicity would your solitude be ! 
 
 2. Alas ! we cannot out-run our own diseases ; 
 we must carry with us into solitude the remains of 
 our corrupted nature; our dead and dull, our selfish 
 and earthly, our impatient and discontented minds ; 
 and, what is worst of all, our lamentable weakness 
 of faith and love, our strangeness to God and hea- 
 ven, and backwardness to the things of eternal life ! 
 
 that I could escape these, though I were in the 
 hands of the most cruel enemies 1 O that such a 
 heart coiild be left behind ! To out-run it, how 
 gladly would I quit house, and land, and honour, 
 and all sensual delights ! O that I knew the place 
 where there is none of this darkness, nor disaffec- 
 tion, nor distance from God ! O that I could find 
 it I O that I might dwell there, though I should 
 never more see the face of mortals, nor ever hear a 
 human voice, nor ever taste the delights of flesh ! 
 
 Alas ! foolish soul, such a place there is, that has 
 all this, and more than this : but it is in paradise, 
 not in the wilderness; it is above with Christ, not 
 here upon earth ! And am I yet so loath to die? 
 Am I yet no more desirous of the blessed day, when 
 
 1 shall be unclothed of flesh and sin ? O death, 
 what an enemy art thou even to my soul, by fright- 
 ing me from the presence of my Lord, and hindering 
 my desires and willingness to be gone? This is 
 wronging me much more, than by laying my flesh to 
 rot in darkness. Fain would I know God; and love, 
 and enjoy him more. But O this hurtful love of 
 present life ! O this unreasonable fear of dying 1 
 
282 
 
 " O wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me 
 from this body of death?" — from this carnal unbe- 
 lieving heart, that can sometimes think more de- 
 lightfully of a wilderness than of heaven? — that can 
 seek after God in desert solitude, among birds, and 
 beasts, and trees; and yet is so backward to be 
 loosed from flesh, that I might find him, and enjoy 
 him in the world of glory? Can I expect that 
 heaven should come down to earth, and that the 
 Lord of glory should remove his court, and either 
 leave the retinue of his celestial courtiers, or bring 
 them all down into this simple world, to satisfy my 
 fleshly mind ? Or can I expect the translation of 
 Enoch, or the chariot of Elijah? Is it not enough 
 that my Lord has conquered death, and sanctified 
 the passage, and prepared the place of my perpetual 
 abode ? 
 
 Well ! Though a wilderness be not heaven, it 
 shall be sweet and welcome for the sake of heaven, 
 if from thence I may but have a clearer prospect of 
 heaven : and if, by retiring from the crowd and noise 
 of folly, I may but be better disposed to converse 
 above, and to use, alas ! my too weak and languid 
 faith, till it be exchanged for the beatific vision. 
 May there but be more of God, readier access to 
 him, more flaming love, more heart-comforting in- 
 timations of his favour, in a wilderness than in a 
 city, in a prison than in a palace; let that wilderness 
 be my city, and that prison be my palace, as long as 
 I abide on earth. If, in solitude, I may have 
 Enoch's walk with God, I shall in due season have 
 such a translation as will bring me to the same feli- 
 city whiqh he enjoys; and in the mean time, as well 
 
283 
 
 as after, it is no disadvantage, if by mortal eyes I 
 am seen no more. If the chariot of contemplation 
 will, in solitude, raise me to more believing, aflPec- 
 tionate converse with heaven, than I could expect in 
 tumults and temptations, it shall reconcile me to 
 solitude, and make it my paradise on earth, till 
 angels, instead of Elijah's chariot, shall convey me 
 to the presence of my glorified Jesus. 
 
 3. Is it grievous to you to be alone, because you 
 have been used to much company? — Consider, that 
 company may so abuse you, that it may be more 
 grievous to you not to be alone. You will not wish 
 for the society of wasps and serpents; and even bees 
 have such stings, that their honey may be bought 
 too dear. 
 
 But can you say you are alone, while yau are 
 with God? — Is his presence nothing to you? Does 
 it not signify more than the company of all the men 
 in the world? There can be no want of man when 
 we can speak with God. And were it not that God 
 is here revealed to us in a glass, and that we are 
 conversing with God in man, human converse would 
 be of little worth. If you suggest, that solitude is 
 disconsonant to a sociable mind ; think again, that 
 the most desirable society is no solitude. If God be 
 nothing to you, you are not a Christian, but an 
 atheist. If God be God to you, he is your all in 
 all; and then should not his presence be instead of all? 
 
 O that I might get one step nearer to God, though 
 I receded many from all the world ! O that I could 
 find that place on earth, where a soul may have 
 nearest access to him, and the fullest knowledge and 
 enjoyment of him, though I never more saw the face 
 
284 
 
 of friends ! — On these terms I should cheerfully say, 
 with my blessed Saviour, " I am not alone, because 
 the Father is with me;" and not without having the 
 best reasons to assign for saying so. For if God be 
 with me, the Maker, Ruler, and Disposer of all 
 things is with me: he is with me to whom I am ab- 
 solutely devoted; who loves me best; whose love is 
 more to me than the love of all my friends in the 
 world; with whom my greatest business lies; with 
 whom I may converse without reserve or interrup- 
 tion; and with whom I must live for ever. 
 
 4. If God be with me, the Maker, Ruler, and 
 Disposer of all things is with me. — So that in him 
 all things are virtually with me. I have that in 
 gold and jewels which I seem to want in silver, lead, 
 and dross. I can want no friend, if God vouchsafes 
 to be my friend. I can enjoy no friend if God be 
 my enemy. If God be reconciled unto me, I need 
 not fear the greatest enemy. I shall not miss the 
 light of a candle, if I have this blessed Sun. The 
 creature is nothing but what it is from, and in God; 
 and as it discovers him, and helps the soul to know 
 him, serve him, or draw nearer to him. As it is tlie 
 sinner's idolatry to thirst after the creature in the 
 neglect of God, thereby making the world his God; 
 so it approaches to the same aggravated sin, when 
 we lament the loss of creatures more than God's 
 displeasure. If I am under the wrath of God, I 
 have so much greater cause for lamentation than for 
 the loss, or absence, or frowns of mortals, as should 
 almost make me forget that there is such a thing as 
 man to be regarded. But if God be my friend in 
 Christ, I have so much to think of with delight and 
 
285 
 
 complacency of soul, as makes it extremely absurd 
 inordinately to lament the absence of a worm, while 
 I have his love and presence who is all in all. If 
 God cannot cohtent me, and be enough for me, how 
 is he then my God? Or how shall he be my hea- 
 ven and everlasting happiness? 
 
 5. If God be with me, he is with me to whom I 
 am absolutely devoted. I am wholly his, and have 
 acknowledged his interest in me, and long ago dis- 
 claimed all usurpers, and penitently and unreservedly 
 resigned myself to him. Where should I dwell, 
 but with him who is my owner, and with whom I 
 have made the most solemn covenant that ever I 
 made? With whom should a servant dwell, but 
 with his master? Or a wife, but with her husband? 
 Or children, but with their father? I am nearer 
 related to my God and Saviour, than to any other 
 relation in the world. I have renounced all the 
 world, as it stands in competition or comparison with 
 my God. How shall I " hate father and mother, 
 brother and sister, and wife and children for his 
 sake," if I cannot spare them, or be without them, 
 to enjoy him? To hate them is but to use them as 
 men do hated things; that is, to cast them away with 
 contempt, so far as they would alienate me from 
 Christ, that I may cleave to him, and be satisfied in 
 him alone. I am now married to Christ; and with 
 whom should I delight to dwell, but with him who 
 has taken me into so near a relation ? 
 
 ' O my dear Lord, hide not thou thy face from 
 an unkind and unworthy sinner? Let me but dwell 
 with thee, and see thy face, and feel the gracious 
 tokens of thy love ; and then, if thou seest it best 
 
286 
 
 for me, let me be cast off by all the world; or, let 
 all other friends be where they will, so that my soul 
 may but be with thee. For thy sake, I have agreed 
 to forsake all, and I resolve by thy grace to stand to 
 this agreement.' 
 
 6. If God be with me, he is with me who loves 
 me best. — The love of all the friends on earth is 
 nothing to his love. How plainly hath he declared 
 his love to me in the strange condescension, the suf- 
 ferings, death, and intercession of his dear Son ! in 
 the communications of his Spirit, the operations of 
 his grace, and the near relations into which he has 
 brouglit me! in the course of his providences, by 
 many and wonderful preservations and deliverances, 
 and by the conduct of his wisdom through a life of 
 mercies! What love appears in his precious pro- 
 raises, and in the glorious provisions he has made for 
 me with himself to all eternity ! 
 
 * O my Lord, I am ashamed that thy love is so 
 much lost; that it has no better return from an un- 
 kind, unthankful heart; that I am no more delighted 
 in thee, and swallowed up in the contemplation of 
 thy love. I can contentedly let go all others, for 
 the converse of some one bosom friend, as Jonathan 
 was to David; and can I not much more be satisfied 
 in thee alone? All men delight most in the com- 
 pany of those that love them best : when they seek 
 satisfaction, it is not with the multitude, but in the 
 converse of their dearest friends. And who, blessed 
 God, should be so dear to me as thyself? Did not 
 my unthankful heart basely neglect thy love, I 
 should never be so unsatisfied in thee, but' should 
 heartily say, " Whom have I in heaven but thee? 
 
287 
 
 And there is none upon earth that I desire besides 
 thee." Though not only my friends, but *' my 
 flesh and my heart fail ; yet thou, Lord, wilt be the 
 strength of my heart, and my portion for ever." 
 Therefore how far soever I am from man, " it is 
 good for me to draw near to thee." O let me dwell 
 there, where thou wilt not be strange, " because thy 
 loving kindness is better than lifel In the multi- 
 tude of my thoughts within me, let thy comforts 
 delight my soul !" Let me dwell as in thy family; 
 and when I awake, let me be still with thee ! Let 
 me go no whither, but where I am still following 
 thee ! Let me do nothing, but thy work; nor serve 
 any other, but when I may truly call it a serving 
 thee. Let me hear nothing but thy voice; and let 
 me know thy voice, by whatever instrument thou 
 shalt speak ! Let me never see any thing but thy- 
 self, and the glass that represents thee, and the books 
 in which I may read thy name ! Whether in com- 
 pany or salitude, let " me be continually with thee," 
 and so thou vouchsafe to " hold me by my right 
 hand, and guide me with thy counsel, and afterwards 
 receive me to thy glory I" ' 
 
 7. If God be with me, I shall be with him whose 
 love is more to me than the love of all the friends in 
 the world. — Their love may perhaps afford me some 
 little comfort, as it flows from his: but his love is 
 that only upon which I live. His love gives me 
 life and time, health and food, books and under- 
 standing, provision, and the temperate use of it, 
 friends, and the blessings they communicate. Sun, 
 earth, and air, are not so useful and necessary to me 
 as his love. The love of all my friends cannot heal 
 
288 
 
 ray sickness, nor pardon the smallest of my sins, nor 
 assure me of God's forgiveness, nor restore the health 
 of my soul, nor give lasting peace to my troubled 
 conscience, nor banish the fears of death, nor secure 
 my passage to everlasting life. Death will be death 
 still, and danger will be danger still, and when all 
 my friends have done their best. But my God is 
 an all-sufficient Friend. He can prevent my sick- 
 ness, or rebuke and cure it; or make it so good for 
 me, that I shall thank him for it. He can blot out 
 my transgressions, and forgive all my sins, and jus- 
 tify me, when the world and my own conscience 
 condemn me. He can teach me to believe, repent, 
 and pray ; to hope, suflPer and overcome. He can 
 quiet my soul in the midst of trouble, and give me 
 a well-grounded everlasting peace, and a joy that no 
 man can take from me. He can deliver me from 
 all the distempers and corruptions of my froward 
 heart, and both ease and secure me in the painful war 
 which is daily maintained in my own breast. He 
 can make it as easy a thing to die, as to undress and 
 g6 to bed. He can strip death of its terrible aspect, 
 and with a mild and comfortable voice can preach to 
 me the last and sweetest sermon, even what Jesus 
 preached on the cross, " Verily I say unto thee, 
 To-day shalt thou be vvith me in paradise.'' 
 
 And is this the difference between the love of 
 man and of God ? And do I yet lament the loss of 
 man? And am I yet so backward to converse with 
 God, and to be satisfied in his love alone? ' Ah, 
 my God, how justly mayest thou withhold that love, 
 which I thus undervalue; and refuse that converse, 
 which I have first refused! How justly mayest thou 
 
289 
 
 turn me over to man, to sinful man, whose converse 
 I so much desire, till I have learnt, by dear-bought 
 experience, the difFerence between an earthly and a 
 heavenly friend.* 
 
 Have I not often enough found what man is in a 
 time of trial? Have I not been told it over and 
 over, and told it to the quick, by deceitful and sel- 
 fish friends; by proud and conceited friends; by pas- 
 sionate and quarrelsome friends; by tender, faithful, 
 but unable friends? How often have I found that 
 human friendship is a sweet addition to our vvo, a 
 beloved calamity, an affliction which nature will not 
 be without! Not because nature loves evil, nor is 
 wholly deceived in its choice ; (for there is good in 
 friendship, and delight in holy love;) but because 
 the good which is here accompanied with so much 
 evil, is the beginning of a more high and durable 
 friendship, and points us to the blessed society and 
 converse which we shall have with Christ in the 
 heavenly Jerusalem. — But how much better have I 
 found the friendship of the all-sufficient God ! His 
 love has not only pitied but relieved me. He has 
 not only been afflicted, as it were, in my afflictions; 
 but has seasonably, powerfully, and sweetly delivered 
 me. My burdened mind has been eased by his 
 love, which was but more burdened by the fruitless 
 love of all my friends. Often have I come to man 
 for help and comfort, and gone away as from an 
 cimpty cistern, that had no water to cool my thirst; 
 but God has been a present help. Could I get near 
 him, I was sure of light, how great soever my former 
 darkness; I was sure of warming, quickening life, 
 how dead soever I had been before. All my ffiisery 
 N 35 
 
290 
 
 was, that I could not get near him. My guilty 
 soul could not get satisfying acquaintance with him. 
 My earthly heart lay dead, and would not stir; or, 
 if by any celestial force it began a little to move to- 
 wards him, it soon fell down again. My carnal 
 mind was entangled in diverting vanities. Thus 
 have I been kept from communion with my God. 
 Kept! not by external violence; not by bars, or 
 bolts, or distance of place, or lowness of condition; 
 nor by any misrepresentation or reproaches of man ; 
 but, alas ! by myself, by the darkness, stupidity, 
 and vile affections of a naughty heart. These, 
 these have been the bars, and bolts, and jailors to 
 keep me from my God. Had it not been for these, 
 I might have got nearer to him; 1 might have 
 walked and dwelt with him; yea, " dwelt in him, 
 and he in me;" nor have missed my friends, nor felt 
 my enemies. 
 
 And is it my sinful distance from my God, that 
 has been my loss, my wilderness, my wo? Is it a 
 nearer admittance to the presence of his love, that 
 must be my recovery, and my joy, if ever I attain to 
 joy ? O then, my soul, lay hold on Christ the re- 
 conciler, and in him, and by him, draw near to God. 
 *' Cease from man, whose breath is in his nostrils." 
 Love God in his saints, and delightfully converse 
 with Christ in them, while thou hast opportunity. 
 But remember thou livest not upon them, or on 
 their love, but upon God: and therefore desire their 
 company but for his; and if thou hast his, be con- 
 tent if thou hast not theirs. He wants not man, 
 that enjoys God. Collect all thy love, thoughts, 
 and desires, which have been scattered and lost upon 
 
291 
 
 the creatures, and set them all on God himself, and 
 press into his presence, and converse with him ; and 
 thou shalt find the mistake of thy present discon- 
 tent, and thy sweet experience shall tell thee, * thou 
 hast made a happy change.' 
 
 8. If God be with me, he is with me with whom 
 my greatest business lies. — What company should 
 I desire, but theirs, with whom I must do my daily 
 necessary work? I have more to do with God, 
 than with all the world; yea, more and greater busi- 
 ness with hira in one day, than with all the world 
 in all my life. I have business with mortals about 
 houses, or lands, food or raiment, labours or recrea- 
 tions, private or public peace ; but what are these to 
 my business with God? Indeed, with holy men I 
 have holy business; but it is only as they are mes- 
 sengers from God, and come to me on his business: 
 but, even then, my business is much more with God 
 than with them; with him that sent them, than with 
 his messengers. My business with God is so great, 
 that if I had not a Mediator to encourage, and assist 
 me to do my work, and procure my acceptance, the 
 thoughts of it would overwhelm my soul. 
 
 Therefore let man stand by; 1 have to do with 
 the eternal God, and with him I am to transact, in 
 this little time, the business of my endless life. I 
 am to seek of God, through Christ, the pardon of 
 all my great and grievous sins; and if I speed not, 
 wo unto me that ever I was born ! I have some 
 hopes of pardon, but intermixed with many perplex- 
 ing fears. I have evidences of grace, but they are 
 exceedingly blotted. I want assurances that God 
 is my reconciled Father, and that he will receive me 
 N2 
 
292 
 
 to himself when the world forsakes me. I have 
 many languishing graces to be strengthened ; and, 
 alas ! what rooted, inveterate, vexatious corruptions 
 to be cured ! Can I look into my heart, into such 
 an unbelieving and earthly heart, into such a proud 
 and peevish heart, into such a perplexed and trem- 
 bling heart, and not discern how great my business 
 is with God ? Can I survey my sins, feel my wants, 
 and sink under my weaknesses? Can I review my 
 lost time, and all the grace I have ungratefully re- 
 sisted, and all the mercies I have abused; or, can I 
 look forward, and see how near my time is to an 
 end? Can I think of the malice and diligence of 
 Satan; the number, power, and policy of my ene- 
 mies; the many dangerous snares and temptations 
 that are around me; and my own ignorance, weak- 
 ness, and unwatchfulness ; and not know that my 
 greatest business is with God? Can I feel and la- 
 ment my afflictions, and think my burden greater 
 than I can bear, and find that men cannot relieve 
 me ? Can I go mourning in the heaviness of my 
 soul, and water my bed with tears, and fill the air 
 with my groans, or feel my soul overwhelmed, and 
 my words intercepted? Can I think of dying? Can 
 I draw near to judgment? Can T contemplate 
 heaven's everlasting joys, or helPs everlasting pains, 
 and not feel that my greatest business is with God ? 
 — ' O, my soul, the case is easily resolved, with 
 whom thou art most seriously to converse. Where 
 shouldst thou be, but where thy business is, and 
 business so important?' 
 
 Alas ! what have I to do with man ! What can 
 it do but make my head ache, to hear a deal of sense- 
 
293 
 
 less chat, about the words and thoughts of men, or 
 their lands and titles, and a thousand irapertinencies, 
 that only prove that the dreaming world is not 
 awake ? What pleasure is it to see the bustles of a 
 bedlam world, and how they strive to prove or make 
 themselves unhappy ? How tedious and trifling are 
 the discourses even of the learned, when God is not 
 the mark they aim at? Were it not that some 
 converse with men promotes my converse with God, 
 and that my Master has placed me in society, and 
 appointed me much of my work with others, and for 
 others, and that much of his mercy is conveyed by 
 others, man might stand by, and solitude would be 
 better than the best society, and God alone should 
 take me up. 
 
 Nothing is so much my misery and shame, as 
 that I have so little will and skill in the manage- 
 ment of my grand business; that my work is with 
 God, and my heart no more with him. What 
 might 1 not do in holy meditation or prayer one 
 hour, if I were disposed, like one that has had so 
 long a season, and so great a necessity for convers- 
 ing with God ? A prayerless heart, a heart that 
 flies away from God, is most inexcusable in such a 
 one as I, that have so much important business with 
 him. It is work that must be done; and, if well 
 done, will never be repented of. I have never re- 
 turned from the presence of God, when I have really 
 drawn near to him, as I have from the company ot" 
 mortals, repenting the loss of my time, and trem- 
 bling for my discomposure contracted by their vain 
 and earthly discourse. I often repent that I have 
 prayed to him so coldly, and conversed with him so 
 
S94 
 
 negligently, and served him so remissly; but I never 
 repent of the time, care, affections, or diligence em- 
 ployed in his holy work. O that I had lived more 
 with God, though I had been less with some that 
 are eminent in the world, or even with the dearest 
 of my friends ! How much more sweet would my 
 life have been ! How much more blameless, regular, 
 and pure ! How much more fruitful, and answer- 
 able to my obligations and professions! How much 
 more comfortable in the review 1 How many falls, 
 and wounds, and griefs, might have been prevented I 
 
 how much more pleasing is it now to my remem- 
 brance, to think of the hours in which I have lain at 
 the Divine foot-stool, though it were in tears and 
 groans; than to think of the time I have spent in 
 converse with the greatest, most learned, or nearest 
 of my acquaintance? 
 
 9. And as my greatest, so my daily business is 
 also with God. He purposely leaves me under 
 daily wants and necessities, and the daily assaults of 
 enemies and surprise of afflictions, that I may be 
 daily driven to him. He loves to hear from me. 
 He would have me to be no stranger with him. I 
 have business with him every hour, and need not 
 want employment for all the faculties of my soul, if 
 
 1 know what it is to converse in heaven. Prayer, 
 and every devout thought, have an object so great 
 and excellent, as ought to possess me wholly. 
 Nothing of God must be treated lightly. His name 
 must not be taken in vain. " He will be sanctified 
 in them that come nigh him." He must " be loved 
 with all the heart." His servants need not be weary 
 for want of employment, nor through its trifling and 
 
295 
 
 unprofitable nature. Had I cities to build, or king- 
 doms to govern, I might more reasonably complain 
 that my faculties are unemployed, than I can when 
 I am to converse in heaven. In other studies, the 
 delight abates when desire is gratified, and know- 
 ledge obtained; but in God there is infinitely more 
 to be known, when I seem to know him best. I 
 am never satisfied with the easiness of knowing him, 
 nor is there any uneasiness or unworthiness in him 
 to abate my desires; but I am drawn to him by his 
 highest excellencies, and drawn on to desire more 
 and more, by the infinite light which I have not yet 
 beheld, and by the infinite good which I have not 
 yet enjoyed. If I am idle, or seem to want employ- 
 ment, when I am to contemplate all the works and 
 mercies, all the relations and perfections of the 
 Lord, surely it is for want of eyes to see, or a heart 
 inclined to my business. If God be not enough to 
 employ my soul, then all the persons and things on 
 earth are not enough. 
 
 And when I have infinite goodness to delight in, 
 where my soul may freely let out itself, without any 
 fear of exceeding love, how sweet should this em- 
 ployment be ! Love is no more confined here, by 
 the narrowness of the object, than knowledge. We 
 can never love him in any proportion, either to his 
 goodness or amiableness in himself, or to his love to 
 us. What need have I then of any other company 
 or business, when I have infinite goodness to delight 
 in and to love, farther than such company or busi- 
 ness may subserve this greatest work? 
 
 ' Come home, then, O my soul, to God. Con- 
 verse in heaven. Turn away thine eyes from be- 
 
e96 
 
 holding vanity. Let not thy affections kindle upon 
 straw or briars, that go out when they have made a 
 flash, or noise, and leave thee to thy cold and dark- 
 ness. But come and dwell upon celestial beauties, 
 and make it thy daily and most diligent work to 
 kindle thy affections on the infinite everlasting good : 
 and, thus, they will never be extinguished for want 
 of fuel; but the longer they burn, the greater will 
 be the flame. Though, while love is but a spark, 
 thou canst not easily make it burn, and art complain- 
 ing of thy cold and backward heart, that it is hardly 
 warmed with the love of God; yet, when the whole 
 pile has taken fire, and the flame ascends, then fire 
 will breed fire, and love will produce love, and all 
 the malice of hell itself shall never be able to sup- 
 press or quench it unto all eternity.' 
 
 10. If God be with me, he is with me with whom 
 I may converse without reserve or interruption. — It 
 is great encouragement to my converse with God, 
 that no misunderstanding, no malice of enemies, no 
 past sin, nor present frailty; no, nor the infinite dis- 
 tance of the most holy and glorious God, can hinder 
 my access to him, or interrupt my leave and liberty 
 of converse. — If I converse with the poor, their 
 wants afflict me, being greater than I can supply.— 
 If I would converse with the great, it is not easy to 
 get access, and less easy to have their favour, unless 
 I purchase it at too dear a rate. How strangely 
 and contemptuously do they look on their inferiors ! 
 How must their word or smile be solicited ! How 
 soon are they weary of you ! Especially if you 
 would put them to any cost or trouble ! With how 
 much labour and difficulty must you climb to see the 
 
top of one of those mountains? And when you are 
 there, you are but in a place of barrenness, and have 
 nothing to satisfy you for your pains, and may soon 
 be glad to get far enough from them, and learn 
 better to relish the accessible, calm, and fruitful 
 valleys. 
 
 How different from this is my soul's converse with 
 God ! Company never hinders him from hearken- 
 ing to my suit. He is infinite, and omnipotent, 
 and all-sufficient for every individual soul, as if he 
 had no other to look after in the world. When he 
 is taken up with the attendance and praises of his 
 heavenly hosts, he is as free and as ready to attend 
 and answer the prayers and sighs of a contrite soul, 
 as if he had no nobler creatures nor higher services 
 to regard. I am often unready to pray; but God is 
 always ready to hear. I am unready to come to 
 him, walk with him, and delight myself in him; but 
 he is never unready to entertain me. Many a time 
 my conscience would have driven me away, but God 
 has invited me to him, and rebuked my accusing 
 and trembling conscience. Many a time I have 
 called myself a prodigal, " a miserable sinner," when 
 he has called me " his son," and reproved me for 
 questioning his love. He has readily forgiven the 
 sins, which I thought would have made my soul the 
 fuel of hell. Fie has entertained me with joy, with 
 music, and a feast, when I rather deserved to be 
 cast out of doors. He has tenderly embraced me, 
 when he might have said, " Depart from me, thou 
 worker of iniquity; I know thee not." Little did I 
 think he could ever forget the vanity and villany of 
 my youth: when I had sinned against light; when 
 N3 
 
298 
 
 I had resisted conscience; when I had frequently 
 and wilfully injured love: I thought he would never 
 have forgotten it; but the greatness of his love and 
 mercy, and the blood and intercession of his Son, 
 have cancelled all. O how many mercies have I 
 tasted, since I thought I had sinned away all 
 mercies! How patiently has he borne with me, since 
 I thought he would never have put up with more ! 
 And yet, except my sins, and the withdrawings of 
 my heart, there has been nothing to interrupt our 
 converse. Though he is God, and I a worm; 
 though he is in heaven, and I on earth; yet he is 
 near in all that I call upon him for. Though he 
 has the praises of angels, he disdains not my sighs 
 and tears. Though he is perfectly loved by spirits 
 made perfect, he despises not the little spark of my 
 weak and languid love. Though I injure him by 
 loving him no more; though I often forget him, and 
 have been out of the way, or refused to hear when 
 he has called, and have ungratefully rejected the 
 entertainment of his love, and have unfaithfully 
 associated myself with those whose company he for- 
 bids me; yet he has not divorced me. O won- 
 derful, that heaven will be famihar with earth, 
 God with man, the Most High with a worm, and 
 the Most Holy with a vile sinner ! Man refuses me, 
 when God entertains me. Those I never wronged 
 reproach me; and God, whom I unspeakably in- 
 jured, invites and entreats me, and condescends ta 
 me, as if he were obhged to serve me. Men abhor 
 me, whom I have deserved well of: and God, from 
 whom I deserved eternal torments, graciously accepts 
 me. I upbraid myself with my sins ; but he up- 
 
299 
 
 braids me not. I condemn myself for them; but he 
 will not condemn me. He forgives me sooner than 
 I can forgive myself. I have peace with him, be- 
 fore I can have peace in my own conscience. 
 
 ' Draw near then, O my soul, to him who is 
 willing to have thy company; who frowns thee not 
 away, except when thou hast sinned, that thou mayest 
 repent and be fitter for his converse. Draw near 
 to him, who will not wrong thee, by crediting thine 
 enemies' false reports, or by laying to thy charge 
 things that thou knowest not; but will forgive the 
 wrongs thou hast done, and justify thee from the 
 sins which conscience lays to thy charge. Come to 
 him, who invites thee to come by his word and Spirit, 
 by his ministers and mercies, and who promises, that 
 ** those who come to him, he will in nowise cast out." 
 Walk with him, who will " hold thee by thy right 
 hand." Speak to him who teacheth thee to speak, 
 and understands and accepts thy stammering, and 
 ** helps thine infirmities," when thou " knowest not 
 what to pray for as thou oughtest," and gives thee 
 " groanings which cannot be uttered" by thy best 
 chosen words. Speak to him, whom the heaven and 
 heaven of heavens cannot contain: "but to this man 
 will he look, even to him that is poor and of a con- 
 trite spirit, and trembles at his word;" yea, " a broken 
 and a contrite heart he will not despise." Walk 
 with him who is never weary of the converse of the 
 upright; who is never angry with thee but for flying 
 from him, or from drawing back, or being too strange, 
 and refusing the kindness and felicity of his presence. 
 The day is coming when the proudest of the sons of 
 men would be glad of a kind look from him, with 
 
300 
 
 whom thou hast leave now to walk. How glad 
 would those be of a father's smile, or of any intima- 
 tion of hope and mercy from him, who will not now 
 condescend to favour thee with their smiles, but de* 
 light to injure and abuse thee! Draw near to him, 
 therefore, on whom the whole creation depends, and 
 whose favour the greatest mortals will at last cry for, 
 when all their pomp and pleasure can purchase no- 
 thing. Walk with him, who is love itself, nor 
 think him unwilling or unlovely, nor let any artifices 
 of the tempter drive thee from him. Having felt 
 the storms abroad, methinks thou shouldst say, 
 " How safe, how sweet, how good it is to draw near 
 to God?"* Once more: 
 
 11. If God be with me, he is with me with whom 
 I must live for ever. — My house or land, my walks 
 or books, or even ray friends, as clothed with flesh, 
 are pleasures I must possess but a little while. 
 " Henceforth know we no man after the flesh; yea, 
 though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet 
 now henceforth know we him no more;" for his body 
 in heaven is spiritual and glorious. And though, 
 when we come to Christ, we may converse with 
 father or mother, with wife or children, as glorified 
 saints; yet, in the relations in which we now stand, 
 we shall converse with them but a little while. For 
 " the time is short: it remaineth that both they that 
 have wives be as though they had none; and they 
 that weep, as though they wept not; and they that 
 rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that 
 buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use 
 this world, as not abusing it;" or, as though they 
 used it not: " for the fashion of this world passeth 
 
301 
 
 away." Why then should I so much regard a con- 
 verse of so short a continuance ! Why should I be 
 so familiar in my inn, and so fond of that familiarity, 
 as to grieve at the thought of leaving it, and of going 
 to my glorious, eternal home? Shall I love the 
 company of a fellow-traveller, or perhaps of one that 
 is going to a contrary place, and not take more plea- 
 sure in remembering my home? 
 
 O, my soul, consider, ' thou dost not dwell, but 
 travel here. It is thy Father's house, where thou 
 must abide for ever.' Though he is invisible, he 
 is every step of thy way nearer to thee than any 
 mortal. Walk then, " as seeing him who is invisi- 
 ble." Hearken to him when he speaks. Obey his 
 voice. Observe his way. Speak to him boldly, 
 though humbly and reverently, as his child. Tell him 
 what ails thee. Look upon all thy sufferings as the 
 demerit of thy sin. Confess thy folly and unkind- 
 ness, crave his pardon, and remind him what and 
 why his Son suffered. — Treat with him about thy 
 future converse. Desire his grace, and give up 
 thyself to his conduct and care. Tell him the his- 
 tory of thy crimes, with penitential tears and groans. 
 Tell him, also, that where sin has abounded, his 
 grace may now much more abound, and therefore be 
 honoured the more. Tell him, that thou art most 
 angry with that which offends him most, even thy 
 disobedient, unthankful heart; that thou art weary 
 of a heart that loves him no more; and that it will 
 never please thee, till it loves him better, and is more 
 desirous to please him. Tell him of thy enemies, 
 and entreat the protection of his love. Tell him of 
 thy infirmities, and beg not only his tender forbear- 
 
302 
 
 ance, but his help; sensible that, " without him, thou 
 canst do nothing;" and that, " strengthened by him, 
 thou canst do all things." When thou fallest, des- 
 pair not; but crave his hand to raise thee up again.— 
 Especially speak to him of everlasting things, and 
 thank him for his promises, and for thy hopes of 
 what thou shalt be, and have, and do, among his 
 saints for ever. Rejoice in those promised joys, 
 even of seeing his glory, and of loving and praising 
 him better than thou canst now desire. Begin those 
 praises. And, as thou walkest with him, take plea- 
 sure in the mention of his perfections; " be thankful 
 unto him, and bless his name." Delight thyself in 
 considering what a God, and portion, all believers 
 have; whither this God is now conducting thee; 
 what he will do with thee; and how he will employ 
 thee for ever. Joyfully celebrate the glory of his 
 works, the righteousness of his judgments, and the 
 holiness of his ways. Let his praises elevate thy 
 heart and voice. Turn away all slavish fears, all 
 hurtful doubts and griefs, that would interrupt or 
 spoil the melody. Thy Father loves even thy com- 
 plaints and tears; and how much more thy praises 
 and thanksgivings? If indeed he seems to chide or 
 hide his face, because thou hast offended him; let 
 the cloud that is gathered by thy folly come down 
 in tears; yet fly not from him, but beg his pardon, 
 and the privilege of a servant, though unworthy to 
 be treated as a son; and thou wilt find that he is 
 merciful and ready to forgive; only return, and keep 
 closer for the time to come. — If the breach, through 
 thy neglect, be gone so far that thou seemest to have 
 lost thy God, and to be cast off and forsaken; des- 
 
303 
 
 pair not yet, for he does but hide his face till thou 
 repent. Be not regardless of his withdrawings, and 
 of thy loss. Cry out, ' My Father, ray Saviour, 
 my God, why dost thou hide thy face? Why hast 
 thou forsaken me? What shall I do here without 
 thee? O leave me not, lose me not in this howling 
 wilderness ! Let me not be a prey to any ravenous 
 beasts, to sin and Satan, to my foes and thine 1' 
 Tell him, these are the lamentations of his child. 
 Beg that thy childish follies may be pardoned; and 
 though he correct thee, that he will not forsake his 
 child. If thou hast not words to pour out before 
 him, at least " smite upon thy breast;" and though 
 thou art afraid or ashamed to " lift up so much as 
 thine eyes unto heaven," yet look down and say,. 
 *' God be merciful to me a sinner:" and it will tend 
 to thy pardon and justification, and be a prayer which 
 he cannot deny. — Or if thou hast long called upon 
 thy Father's name, and hearest not his voice, and 
 hast no return; inquire for him of them that know 
 him, and are acquainted with his way; and ask the 
 watchmen, where thou mayest find thy Lord. At 
 length he will appear to thee, and first find thee that 
 thou mayest find him, and will show thee where thou 
 didst lose him, by losing thyself. Seek him, and 
 thou shalt find him. W'ait, and he will appear in 
 kindness; for he never fails nor forsakes those that 
 wait for him. Thou art surer in his covenant love, 
 than thou canst believe or apprehend. 
 
 This kind of converse, O my soul, thou hast to 
 maintain with thy God. Thou hast, also, the in- 
 terest of all his afflicted servants to tell him of; the 
 concerns of his kingdom; the fury of his enemies; 
 
304 
 
 the dishonour they cast upon his name; the advance- 
 ment of his Gospol and glory in the world. But 
 still let his righteous judgment be remembered, and 
 all be centered in his glorious, everlasting kingdom. 
 — Is it not much better thus to converse with him 
 whom I must be with for ever, about the place, the 
 company, the work, and interests of my perpetual 
 abode, than to be taken up with strangers, and be 
 hindered in my way by their impertinencies? 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 Hoiso the Presence of God in Solitude is Attainable, 
 
 1. Largely as I have pointed out, in the preced- 
 ing chapter, the reasonableness of saying in soHtude, 
 " I am not alone, because the Father is with me;" 
 yet I am sensible there are other weighty reasons to 
 be assigned which well deserve to engage our giedi- 
 tations; though here I shall but briefly mention 
 them. As for instance: 
 
 Converse with God gives human converse all its 
 excellency. Converse with man is only so far de- 
 sirable, as it tends to our converse with God. And, 
 therefore, the end must be preferred before the means. 
 
 All divine dispensations and ordinances are de- 
 signed to assist our converse with God. It is the 
 office of Christ, and the work of the Holy Spirit, 
 and the usefulness of all the means of grace, and of 
 all creatures, mercies, and afflictions, to reduce our 
 straying souls to God, that we may converse with 
 him, and enjoy him. 
 
305 
 
 Converse with God is most suitable to those that 
 are near death. — It best prepares for death. It is 
 the nearest resemblance to the work we are to do 
 after death. We had rather, when death comes, 
 be found conversing with God, than with man. A 
 dying man has principally to do with God; he is 
 going to the judgment of God; and he must trust in 
 his mercy. It therefore concerns us to draw near to 
 God now, and be no strangers to him, lest strange- 
 ness at death should be our terror. 
 
 God's willingness to converse with me is the 
 most wonderful condescension. — Will he converse 
 with such a worm, with such a vile sinner ! And, 
 therefore, how inexcusable is my crime, if I refuse 
 his company, and reject so great a mercy ! 
 
 Even heaven itself is but our converse with God, 
 and with his saints that are glorified. — Consequently, 
 our holy converse with God here, is the state that 
 most resembles heaven, and best prepares for it, and 
 indeed is all the heaven there is upon earth. 
 
 2. In order to assist you in attaining to this con- 
 verse with God, let the following directions be care- 
 fully attended to. As for instance; — be reconciled 
 to God; — depend on the mediation of Christ; — get 
 free from guilt; — cherish no idol in the heart; — 
 live by faith; — and, keep the heart with all keeping. 
 But, obvious as such directions are, there may be 
 great incapacity in some persons, to be much in soli- 
 tary contemplations, arising from melancholy, or 
 other infirmities. The confusion and hurry, which 
 will be apt to prevail in r^wirement, make it proper 
 for such persons to attend, for the most part, to those 
 religious duties which are carried on by the help of 
 
306 
 
 others. Instead of well-digested meditations in 
 solitude, they must content themselves with a little 
 time in secret prayer, and with short occasional me- 
 ditations; and be so much the more in social reading 
 and hearing, prayer and praise, till their better state 
 of bodily health, and more vigorous spirits, shall fit 
 them for the desirable improvement of their solitude. 
 
 3. Make sure of your reconciliation to God in 
 Christ, and of his being indeed your Father and 
 Friend. — How " can two walk together, unless 
 they be agreed?" Can you take pleasure in dwell- 
 ing with consuming fire? Or, in conversing with 
 the most dreadful enemy? 
 
 But that every doubting or self-accusing soul may 
 not find a pretence for flying from God, let such 
 know and consider, that God does not cease to be a 
 Father whenever a fearful soul is drawn to question 
 or deny it. Let them also know and consider, that 
 in the offers of grace to all miserable sinners, and in 
 the assured readiness of God to receive and embrace 
 the truly penitent, there are such tidings as ought 
 exceedingly to rejoice a sinner; and such abundant 
 encouragements as ought to draw the most guilty to 
 seek unto God for mercy. 
 
 It must be acknowledged, however, that the 
 sweetest converse with God is for his children, and 
 for those that have some assurance that they are his 
 children. And, perhaps, you will say, that this is 
 not easily attained: how shall we know that God is 
 our friend? To this I answer, if you are unfeign- 
 edly friends to God, it is because he first loved you. 
 Prefer him before all other friends, and before all 
 the world's wealth and vanity. Use him as your 
 
307 
 
 best friend, and abuse hira not by disobedience or 
 ingratitude. Own him, though at the dearest rate, 
 whenever you are called to it. Desire his presence, 
 and laraent his absence. " Love him with all your 
 heart." Think not hardly of him. Suspect him 
 not. Misunderstand him not. Hearken not to 
 his enemies. Receive not any false reports against 
 him. Take him to be really better for you than all 
 the world. Thus do, and doubt not but you are 
 friends with God, and God with you. In a word, 
 be but heartily willing to be friends to God, and that 
 God should be your chiefest friend, and you may be 
 sure that it is so indeed, and that you are and have 
 what you desire; and then how delightfully may you 
 converse with God ! 
 
 4. Depend entirely on the mediation of Christ, 
 the great Reconciler. — Without him there is no 
 coming near to God; but " in his beloved" you shall 
 be " accepted." Whatever fear of God's displea- 
 sure shall surprise you, presently fly to Christ for 
 safety. Whatever guilt shall look you in the face, 
 commit yourself and your cause to Christ, and de- 
 sire him to answer for you. When the doors of 
 mercy seem to be shut against you, fly to him that 
 " has the keys," and who at any time can open to 
 you and let you in. Entreat hira to answer for you 
 to God, to your own conscience, and to all accusers. 
 By him alone you may boldly and comfortably con- 
 verse with God; but out of him God will not know 
 you. 
 
 5. If you would have sweet communion with God, 
 take heed of bringing into his presence any particular 
 guilt. — Christ himself never reconciled God to sin; 
 
308 
 
 and the sinner and sin are so nearly related, that, 
 notwithstanding the death of Christ, you shall feel 
 that " iniquity dwelleth not with God, but he hateth 
 all workers of it, and the foolish shall not stand in 
 his sight;" and that if you will presume to sin be- 
 cause you are his children, " be sure your sin will 
 find you out." O what fear, what shame, what self- 
 abhorrence, and self-revenge will guilt raise in a 
 penitent soul, when it comes with the soul into the 
 light of the presence of the Lord ! It will unavoid- 
 ably abate your boldness and your comfort. When 
 you should be taking a sweet complacence in his re- 
 conciled face and promised glory, you will be re- 
 proaching yourselves for your former sins, and be 
 ready even to tear your flesh, to think that you 
 should do as you have done, and use him as you 
 would not have used a common friend, and that you 
 have cast yourselves upon his wrath. But a peaceful 
 conscience, a soul " washed in innocency," will walk 
 with God in " quietness and assurance," without 
 those frowns and fears which to others are a taste of 
 hell. 
 
 6. Be sure that you bring no idols in your hearts, 
 when you come to converse with God. — Take heed 
 of inordinate affection to any creature. Let all 
 things else be as nothing to you, that you may have 
 none to take up your thoughts but God; and your 
 minds may be farther separated from them than 
 your bodies. Bring not into solitude or contempla- 
 tion, a proud, or wanton, or covetous mind. It is 
 of much greater importance, what heart you bring, 
 than what place you are in, or what business you are 
 upon. A mind drowned in ambition, sensuality, or 
 
309 
 
 passion, will scarcely find God any sooner in retire- 
 ment than in a crowd; for God will not own, nor be 
 familiar with, such a one; unless he is returning from 
 those sins to God. " What advantage is there," 
 says Seneca, " in the greatest rural silence, if pas- 
 sions rage within?" Bring not thy house^ or land, 
 or credit, or carnal friend along with thee in thine 
 heart, if thou wouldst walk in heaven, and converse 
 with God. 
 
 7. Live still by faith. — Let faith, as it were, lay 
 heaven and earth together. Look not at God, as 
 if he were afar ofip. " Set him always before you, 
 even at your right hand. When you awake, be 
 still with him." In the morning thank him for your 
 rest, and yield up yourself to his conduct and service 
 for the whole day. Go forth as with him, and as 
 doing his work. In every action, let the command 
 of God, and the promise of heaven, be before your 
 eyes, and upon your hearts. Live, as having in- 
 comparably more to do v/ith God and heaven, than 
 with all the world; that with Paul, you may say, 
 " To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." You 
 must shut up the eye of sense, except in subordina- 
 tion to faith, and live by faith upon a God, a Christ, 
 and a world that is unseen, if you would by experi- 
 ence know what it is to be above the brutish life of 
 sensualists, and to converse with God. 
 
 ' O Christian, if thou hadst rightly learned this 
 blessed life, how high and noble would thy conver- 
 sation be ! How easily wouldst thou spare, and 
 how little wouldst thou miss, the favour* of the 
 greatest mortals, or the presence of any worldly com- 
 fort! City or country would be much alike to thee; 
 
310 
 
 only that place and state would be best to thee, 
 where thou hast the greatest help and freedom to 
 converse with God. Thou wouldst say of human 
 society, as Seneca, " It is the same thing to me, 
 whether I converse with a single friend, or with a 
 multitude: I am satisfied with one, and with none." 
 Thus being taken up with God, thou mightest, in 
 prison, live as at liberty; and in a wilderness, as in 
 a city; and in a place of banishment, as in thy native 
 land; " for the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness 
 thereof;" and every where thou mayest find him, and 
 converse with him, and " lift up holy hands unto 
 him." In every place, thou art within the sight of 
 home; and heaven is in thine eye, and thou art con- 
 versing with God, in whose converse the highest 
 angels place their most transcendent felicity.' 
 
 8. How little cause, then, have all the church's 
 enemies to triumph, since they can never exclude a 
 true believer from the presence of his God, nor banish 
 him into such a place where he cannot " have his 
 conversation in heaven!" The stones that were 
 cast at holy Stephen could not hinder him from 
 *' seeing the heavens opened, and Jesus standing on 
 the right hand of God." A Patmos allowed St. 
 John to be " in the Spirit on the Lord's day." 
 Christ never so speedily and comfortably owns his 
 servants, as when the world disowns them, and 
 abuses them for his sake, and hurls them about " as 
 the oflPscouring of all things." When " the Jews 
 had cast out the man" whom Christ had cured of 
 his blindness, Jesus soon " found him." Perse- 
 cutors do but promote the " blessedness and exceed- 
 ing joy" of sufferers for Christ. How little reason, 
 
311 
 
 then, have Christians to shun such sufferings, by 
 any unlawful means; and to give so dear, as the 
 hazard of their souls, for the sake of escaping the 
 safety, honour, and happiness of martyrdom ! 
 
 9. Indeed, vve judge not, we love and live not, as 
 saints must do, if we judge not that to be the truest 
 liberty, and love it not as the best condition, in which 
 we may most intimately converse with God. And 
 O how much harder is it to walk with God, in a 
 court, in the midst of sensual delights, than in a 
 prison or wilderness, where we have none to inter- 
 rupt us, and nothing else to engage us ! Our pre- 
 possessed minds, our earthly hearts, or carnal affec- 
 tions, and the pleasures of a prosperous state, are 
 the prisons and jailors of our souls. Were it not 
 for these, how free should we be, though our bodies 
 were confined to the straitest room? He is at 
 liberty, who can walk in heaven, and have access to 
 God, and make use of all the creatures in the world, 
 for promoting his heavenly conversation. And he 
 is the prisoner, whose soul is chained to flesh and 
 sense, and confined to his lands and houses, and 
 feeds on the dust of worldly riches, or wallows in the 
 filth of gluttony, drunkenness, or lust, who is " far 
 from God," and desires not to be near him; who 
 says to God, " Depart from me, for I desire not the 
 knowledge of thy ways;" who loves his prison and 
 his chains so well that he refuses to be set free, and 
 hates those with the crudest hatred, that endeavour 
 his deliverance. 
 
 He is the poor prisoner of Satan, who has not 
 liberty to believe, nor love God, nor converse in 
 heaven, nor seriously mind and seek the things that 
 
31^ 
 
 are most high and honourable; who has no hberty to 
 pray, or meditate, or speak of things divine, or love 
 the converse of those that do; who is tied so hard to 
 the drudgery of sin, that he cannot leave it for a 
 month, a week, or a day, in order to delight himself 
 in walking with God. But he who lives in the 
 family of God, and is employed in attending on him, 
 and in conversing with Christ, and with heavenly 
 objects; such a one has no reason to complain of his 
 want of friends, or company, or accommodations, nor 
 to be too impatient under any corporal confinement. 
 
 10. Lastly, keep your hearts with all keeping. — 
 Let nothing have entertainment there, which would 
 abridge your liberty of conversing with God. Fill 
 not those hearts with worldly vanities, which are 
 made, and new-made, to be the habitation of God. 
 Desire not the company which would diminish your 
 heavenly acquaintance and correspondence. Be not 
 unfriendly, nor self-sufficient and self-conceited; but 
 beware, lest under the ingenuous title of a friend, a 
 special, prudent, faithful friend, you should entertain 
 an idol, or an enemy to your love of God, or a com- 
 petitor with your highest and best friend. It is not 
 the specious title of a Friend, that will save you from 
 the thorns and briars of disappointment, even from 
 greater troubles than ever you found from open 
 enemies. 
 
 IL O blessed be that high and everlasting Friend, 
 who is every way suited to upright souls ! — to their 
 mind and memories, to their delight and love, — by 
 unchangeable truth, inexhaustible goodness, un- 
 spotted light, dearest love, and firmest constancy! 
 Why has my dark-sighted and drowsy soul been so 
 
313 
 
 seldom with him? Why has it so often, so sHghtly, 
 so unthankfuUy passed by, and not observed him, 
 nor hearkened to his kindest invitations ? What is 
 all this vanity and vexation that has filled my memory, 
 burdened my mind, and cheated and corrupted my 
 affections; while my dearest Lord has been days and 
 nights so unworthily forgotten, so contemptuously 
 neglected, or loved, as if I loved him not ? O that 
 those lost and empty hours had been spent in the 
 humblest converse with him, which have been dreamed 
 
 away upon 1 know not what ! 
 
 12. ' O my God, how much wiser and happier 
 had I been, had 1 rather chosen to mourn with thee 
 than to rejoice and sport with any other! O that I 
 had rather wept with thee, than laughed with the 
 creature ! For the time to come, let that be my 
 friend, that most befriends my dark, and dull, and 
 backward soul in its heavenly conversation ! Or if 
 there be none such on earth, let me be without 
 earthly friends ! O blot out every name from my 
 corrupted heart, which hinders the deeper engraving 
 of thy name ! Ah ! Lord, what a stone, what a 
 blind ungrateful thing, is a heart not touched with 
 celestial love ! Yet, Lord, shall I not run to thee, 
 when I have nor»e else that will know me ? Shall 
 I not draw near to thee, when all fly from me? 
 When daily experience cries out so loud. None but 
 Christ — God or nothing — ah ! foolish heart, that 
 has not thought of it ! Where, Lord, is that place, 
 that cave, or desert, where I might soonest find thee, 
 and fullest enjoy thee? Is it in the wilderness that 
 thou walkest, or in the crowd; in the closet, or in 
 O 35 
 
314 
 
 the church? Where is it that I might soonest meet 
 with God? 
 
 ' But, alas, I now perceive I have a heart to find, 
 before I am like to find my Lord ! O lifeless stony 
 heart, that is dead to him that gave it life, and to 
 none but him ! Could I not love, or think, or feel 
 at all, methinks I were less dead than now; less dead, 
 if dead, than now I am alive ! I had almost said, 
 " Lord, let me never love more, till I can love thee; 
 nor think more on any thing, till I can more willingly 
 think of thee!" But I must suppress that wish; 
 for life will act; and the motions of nature are neces- 
 sary to those of grace. And therefore in the life of 
 nature, and in the glimmerings of thy light, I will 
 wait for more of the celestial life. My God, thou 
 hast ray consent; it is here attested under my hand; 
 separate me from what and whom thou wilt, so that 
 I may but be nearer to thee ! Let me love thee 
 more, and feel more of thy love, and then let me love 
 or be beloved of the world, as little as thou wilt ! — 
 I thought self-love had been a more predominant 
 thing; but now I find repentance has its anger, its 
 hatred, and its revenge. I am truly angry with my 
 heart, that has so often and foolishly offended thee. 
 Methinks, I hate that heart, that is so cold and 
 backward in thy love, and almost grudge it a dwell- 
 ing in my breast. Alas, when love should be the 
 life of prayer, the life of meditation, the life of ser- 
 mons, and of holy conference, and my soul in them 
 should long to meet thee, and delight to mention 
 thee, I wander. Lord, I know not whither ! Or, I 
 sit still, and wish, but do not rise, and run, and fol- 
 low thee; yea, I do not what I seem to do; all is 
 
315 
 
 dead, all is dead for want of love ; I often cry, O 
 where is that place where the quickening beams of 
 heaven are warmest, that my frozen soul might seek 
 it out ! But whither can I go, to city or to soli- 
 tude ? Alas ! I find it is not place that makes the 
 difference ! I know that Christ is perfectly re- 
 plenished with life, and light, and love ; and I hear 
 him, as our Head and treasure, proclaimed and of- 
 fered to us in the gospel. This is thy reward. 
 " He that hath the Son hath life." O why then 
 is my barren soul so empty ? I thought I had long 
 ago consented to thy offer; and then according to 
 thy covenant, both light and life in him are mine. 
 And yet must I still be dark and dead ? — Ah ! 
 dearest Lord, I say not that I have too long waited ; 
 but if I continue thus to wait, wilt thou never find 
 the time of love, and come and own thy panting, 
 gasping worm ? Wilt thou never dissipate these 
 clouds, and shine upon this dead and darkened soul? 
 Hath my night no day? Thrust me not from thee, 
 O my God ; for it is a hell to be thrust from thee ? 
 ' But surely the cause, could I find it, or rather 
 could I cure it, is all at home. Surely it is my face 
 that is turned from God, when 1 say, " his face is 
 turned from me." And if " my life," while on 
 earth, must be out of sight, and " be hidden" in the 
 root, " with Christ in God;" if all the rest be re- 
 served for that better world, and I must here have 
 but these small beginnings, O make me more to 
 love and long for thine appearing ; and not to fear 
 the time of ray deliverance, or unbelieving to linger 
 in this Sodom, as one that would rather stay with 
 sin, than come to thee ! Though sin has made me 
 02 
 
316 
 
 backward to the fight, let it not make me backward 
 to receive the crown : though it has made me a 
 loiterer in thy work, let it not make me backward to 
 receive those wages which thy love will give to our 
 pardoned, poor, accepted services ! Though I have 
 too often drawn back when I should have come unto 
 thee, and have walked with thee in thy ways of 
 grace ; yet heal that unbelief and disaffection which 
 would make me draw back, when thou callest me to 
 possess thy glory ! Though the sickness and lame- 
 ness of my soul have hindered me in my journey, 
 yet let my painful fatigues help me in my desires to 
 be delivered, and to be at home ; where, without the 
 interposing nights of thy displeasure, I shall per- 
 fectly feel richest love, and walk with thy glorified 
 saints, in the light of thy glory, triumphing in thy 
 praise for evermore ! Amen.' 
 
SELF-EMPLOYMENT 
 IN SECRET. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV; JOHN CORBET, 
 
 LATE OF CHICHESTER. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 That any man who knows that he possesses a 
 rational and immortal spirit, should be capable of 
 occupying his thoughts exclusively with a number of 
 exterior objects, from which he is sure he shall soon 
 be separated for ever; and of neglecting to make his 
 soul, which is more to hira than all other created 
 beings can be, the object of his regards, seems 
 strange and unnatural. To converse with others, 
 and not to converse with ourselves; to form a judg- 
 ment of the character of many around us, and never 
 to attempt to form any correct estimate of our own; 
 to visit our neighbours, and to observe with interest 
 the circumstances of their condition, and not to avail 
 ourselves of the power of self-inspection, to examine 
 w^ith accuracy the interior of our own minds, is in- 
 deed very foolish ; and were it not so common, 
 would be very surprising. 
 
 The fact, however, is easily accounted for. If a 
 man is not comfortable at home, it is natural that he 
 should seek to be as much abroad as possible. If 
 his own dwelling is very ill furnished — if it is 
 gloomy and dark — if, when he enters it alone, dis- 
 quieting apprehensions get hold of him, and recol- 
 lections, or anticipations of real or imaginary evils 
 seldom cease to appal him, it is not wonderful that 
 
320 
 
 he should wish to be elsewhere; unless, when he 
 retreats for a while to his own mansion, to arrange 
 some selfish schemes, or, perhaps, to perform some 
 deeds of shame or guilt, from which his avarice or 
 his conscience would wish to exclude every outward 
 observer. In other words, from ignorance of them- 
 selves — from a suspicion, that were they to examine 
 very closely their moral condition, they might find 
 little that is satisfactory, and very much adapted to 
 unsettle their tranquillity — from the remorse for 
 what is past, and the anxiety or terror for what is to 
 come, which this inquiry would awaken — ^from secu- 
 lar habits, which they find too strong to be broken, 
 disinclining and disqualifying them for intellectual 
 exercises, how numerous are those who will never 
 attempt, who will never dare, to " commune with 
 their own hearts." This voluntary alienation from 
 themselves is extremely unwise, for the time will 
 come when they can go abroad no longer; and when 
 the external objects in which they now delight will 
 cease to visit them; when they must be confined 
 amidst the solitude, the pollution, and the alarms of 
 their own wretched habitation; and unless that hea- 
 venly Comforter, whom they now exclude, shall 
 deign to visit them, they shall find themselves more 
 miserable than the man confined by disease in some 
 dark and lonely hovel, amidst the hissing of ser- 
 pents, or the progress of flames. How much wiser 
 to invite the Spirit of God now, to enlighten it with 
 his truth, to place within it the unsearchable riches 
 of the Saviour, to shed abroad in it the love of God, 
 and to convert it into a holy temple for himself, the 
 chosen scene of his perpetual residence^ 
 
321 
 
 It does not seem possible to reconcile an entire 
 neglect of self-examination with the existence of the 
 Christian character. A true Christian justly 
 attaches so much importance to the question of his 
 acceptance with God, and of his condition through 
 eternity — all earthly interests are so trivial in his 
 estimation, in comparison of this spiritual and eternal 
 interest, that were he capable of attending exclu- 
 sively to the former, and neglecting the latter, he 
 would, in this single part of his character, find de- 
 cisive evidence against himself. He will approach 
 the question, indeed, with deep solemnity; his in- 
 quiries may often conduct him to no satisfactory re- 
 sult; and when his conclusions are favourable on the 
 whole, they will always be formed with modesty, 
 and fear will often be found mingling itself with 
 hope. But, unless, where some unnatural languor, 
 some temporary insensibility, has invaded his better 
 nature, he will be unable to avoid a frequent and 
 anxious examination of the foundation of his eternal 
 hopes — some earnest attempts to comply with these 
 sacred injunctions, " examine yourselves whether ye 
 be in the faith" — "give diligence to make your 
 calling and election sure." 
 
 But besides the evidence of his acceptance with 
 God, which a Christian desires to possess, he is 
 taught to attach so much importance to deliverance 
 from the power of sin, and to the acquisition of true 
 holiness, on their own account, that he cannot avoid 
 looking within himself, to observe how these pro- 
 cesses are going forward. He knows how his soul 
 has been occupied and defiled with sin ; how it has 
 been the abode of false judgments respecting God 
 3 
 
322 
 
 and spiritual things, of vain imaginations, of unholy 
 feelings, of base motives, of degrading preferences, 
 of selfishness, and pride, and unbelief, and enmity 
 to the blessed God, and his most holy law, and 
 worldly affections, and all disobedience. He has 
 been humbled to the dust in the presence of his 
 God, on account of this heart, " deceitful above all 
 things, and desperately wicked." He knows, that 
 if, as he hopes, he has become the subject of a be- 
 gun transformation, these hated corruptions have 
 been restrained and subdued, they no longer occupy 
 his soul exclusively; but that a train of heavenly 
 principles have been introduced within him, by the 
 Spirit of God, which already bear sway in his soul; 
 betwixt which and the principles of nature, a conflict 
 has begun, which will terminate in the expulsion 
 and destruction of the latter. Is it possible, then, 
 that a Christian can abstain from a frequent and 
 earnest inspection of his heart, in which so much is 
 to be seen, and to be done, adapted to stir up all 
 that is within him? Is it possible that he can more 
 strongly desire to have satisfactory evidence of the 
 prosperity of his temporal interests, than to have 
 such evidence of the prosperity of his spiritual in- 
 terests—that he is become more free from that in- 
 dwelling corruption, which grieves, degrades, and 
 enslaves him, offends his God, and interrupts fellow- 
 ship with him; that he is making some additions to 
 that holiness which is at once the honour and the 
 felicity of his nature; which pleases his God, and 
 conforms him to his likeness? 
 
 But while the man has good reason to suspect 
 the genuineness of his religion, who habitually 
 
323 
 
 neglects to examine himself, it is certain that per- 
 sons of true piety may greatly err, by the compara- 
 tive infrequency with which they attend to this ex- 
 ercise, as well as by the superficial manner in which 
 they engage in it. In this holy art, as in other 
 acquirements, practice, under the divine blessing, 
 makes proficiency. And it is no slight and passing 
 look that will suffice; nor ought we to be easily 
 satisfied with appearances. A close and deliberate 
 attention to the state of the soul, an observation of 
 it in all its aspects, a laborious scrutiny of its inmost 
 principles, is indispensable to attain the object. 
 Nor is it easy to conjecture how greatly Christian 
 improvement is retarded; how many infirmities, 
 omissions of duty, perhaps positive evils, being un- 
 observed by the individual, are suffered to remain, 
 in the state of his heart towards God and towards 
 man, in his temper, in his talk, and even in his ac- 
 tions — in consequence of self-examination being 
 sparingly practised. 
 
 No man ever reached eminence in piety, who was 
 not much alone, communing with his own heart, and 
 with his God: and at a period when the bustle of 
 life has become so excessive — when the time and the 
 activity of so large a proportion of society are un- 
 avoidably filled to such a harassing degree with what 
 is secular — when the mind is so incessantly led to 
 what is external and worldly, and withdrawn from 
 what is secret and spiritual, Christians seem pe- 
 culiarly called upon to " watch unto prayer," lest 
 they become strangers to their own closets, and their 
 own hearts, till the divine life languish, and almost 
 die within them. When there is reason to appre- 
 
3^4 
 
 hend, also, that with many Christians there is too 
 little humility to endure, and too little enlightened 
 love to administer, that " exhortation of one an- 
 other daily," by which, among other influences, the 
 excellence of primitive believers was brought to shine 
 so brightly as it did ; it is incumbent on Christians 
 to be more faithful and severe with themselves; and 
 to endeavour, if possible, to compensate for this 
 want of superintendence from others, by adding as 
 much as they can to the vigilance of their own. 
 
 In conducting this difficult, but most laborious 
 process, the following little Work, by an eminent 
 servant of Christ, will, I think, be regarded as a 
 very valuable help, by most Christians. A good 
 many years ago, a copy of it fell into my hands, I 
 do not recollect where; but I was led to purchase 
 and to peruse it, by observing a prefixed recom- 
 mendation by the Rev. William Unwin, the well- 
 known friend and correspondent of the poet, Cow- 
 per. Although there have been several English 
 editions, I never saw a copy of the book, except the 
 one in my possession. Having often perused it 
 with pleasure, and, I trust, with some profit, I fre- 
 quently handed it about among my friends, who all 
 regretted that they could not have a copy of their 
 own. Very lately, a person to whom I had lent it, 
 brought it to the present Publisher, who had been 
 previously urged to its re-publication by a gentle- 
 man in London, who most deservedly ranks high in 
 the religious world. At his request, I have pre- 
 pared these few introductory sentences; and I feel 
 assured that no one will find fault with me for hav- 
 ing introduced him to the company of Mr. Corbet. 
 
3-25 
 
 The Work is short, but is on that account the 
 better fitted for its design. Besides, its value is 
 not less remarkable than its brevity. And while 
 in most other Treatises on self-examination, (and 
 we have many very valuable ones, among which I 
 would take the liberty of recommending that little 
 treasure, " Guthrie's Trial of a Saving Interest 
 in Christ,"* to those who may be unacquainted 
 with it,) the subject is very advantageously con- 
 sidered in a didactic manner; doctrine and rule are 
 here clothed with all the charm of biography, of the 
 private memoirs of a wise and holy man, written by 
 himself. And the only caution which I would sug- 
 gest to the serious reader is this, that he must not 
 be cast down if his own piety does not exactly equal 
 that of Mr. Corbet. The babe must not be ex- 
 cluded from the privileges of the family, nor must 
 he attempt to exclude himself, because he has not 
 yet reached the stature of the man. In contemplat- 
 ing the attainments of eminent saints, we must be 
 grateful if we possess them in kind, though we want 
 them in degree; a holy zeal to imitate them should 
 be awakened within us ; and in the strength of that 
 grace by which they were what they were; and by 
 the use of such means as they employed, we must 
 endeavour to " forget what is behind, and reach to 
 what is before." 
 
 I cannot avoid extracting the two following re- 
 commendations of this little treatise from the preface 
 - of Mr. Unwin. The former is from a minister of 
 eminence in the English church, whose name Mr. 
 
 * An Essay on Self-Examination has been prefixed to this ex- 
 cellent Treatise, by Dr. Chalmers. 
 
326 
 
 Unwin suppresses; the latter is from the pen of the 
 pious and elegant Howe. " There is no book," 
 observes the former, " I have so often read as this; 
 it is always on my study-table; it is my vade mecum 
 in travelling; it is by my bed-side in sickness; I can 
 read a little in this when I can read no other author; 
 it is the best manual I know for a Christian, and for 
 a minister; it will furnish excellent materials for ad- 
 dressing conscience, and for directing men to judge 
 of their spiritual state." 
 
 " Here," says Mr. Howe, " are vivid representa- 
 tions of faith, love, and a heavenly mind; of humi- 
 lity, meekness, self-denial, and entire resignation to 
 the will of God, in their first and continued motions. 
 — Here it may be seen how an heart touched from 
 above, works and tends thitherward; how it depresses 
 itself in humiliation, dilates itself in love, exalts it- 
 self in praise, submits itself under chastenings; how 
 it draws in its refreshings and succours as there is 
 need. — What is here presented, as it may be of 
 great use to all who seriously design the Christian 
 life, so it hath a special use for such as design it 
 not, thinking there is no such thing." Again^ 
 *^ You may see this worthy man considered the 
 Gospel as a Gospel of salvation, and that he not 
 only taught, but used it accordingly. How solici- 
 tous was he to ground his hope of eternal life sub- 
 stantially and strongly ! How warily did he feel his 
 way, and labour to understand and to know practi- 
 cally how he might safely appear before his Judge!" 
 
 H. HEUGH. 
 
 Glasgow, IStk May, 1823. 
 
SELF-EMPLOYMENT 
 
 IN SECRET. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Inquiry into the State of his Soul. 
 
 In order to peace of conscience, and assurance of my 
 good estate towards God, it must in reason be sup- 
 posed, that I may rightly understand the marks of 
 sincerity set down in God's word ; as also the ruling 
 inclination and motions of my own soul; and that I 
 may be so far assured of my right understanding of 
 the things aforesaid, as to have no reasonable ground 
 for doubting thereof. For I have no other ordinary 
 way to know my sincerity, in order to the said peace 
 and assurance, but to examine it according to my 
 best understanding, by the marks thereof set down 
 in God's word. 
 
 In this self-examination, it is requisite that I use 
 all diligence and impartiality with constancy: and 
 that I earnestly pray for God's assistance in it, and 
 heartily offer myself to his search, as David did, 
 Psalm cxxxix. 23. 
 
328 
 
 Wherefore, if upon the most impartial and dili- 
 gent search that I can make, according to the best of 
 my understanding, together with earnest and con- 
 stant prayer to God to assist me therein, as in my 
 greatest concern; it doth most rationally appear to 
 me, that the ruling inclination and motions of my 
 soul are agreeable to the marks of sincerity set down 
 in God's word, then my conscience, doing its office 
 aright, is to judge of me accordingly, namely, that I 
 am sincere. And in this judgment I acquiesce, be- 
 cause it is the judgment of God's agent and minister, 
 which he hath set up within me to judge, under him, 
 of my eternal state, according to his law, by which 
 he himself doth and will judge me. 
 
 God hath the same aspect upon the soul, which 
 conscience, his vicegerent, hath; as it ordinarily 
 judgeth not against him, or without him, but under 
 him, and according to his judgment either acquitting 
 or condemning. To this purpose the Apostle 
 speaketh, 1st John iii. 20, 21. "If our heart con- 
 demn us, God is greater than our heart, and know- 
 eth all things; if our heart condemn us not, then 
 have we confidence towards God.'* 
 
329 
 
 PART I. 
 
 State of my Soul, according to the strictest Search 
 that I can make. 
 
 Search me, O Lord, and know my heart; try me, and know my 
 thoughts ; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead 
 me in the way everlasting. — Psalm cxxxix, 23, 24<. 
 
 WRITTEN IN 1663. 
 
 As far as I am able to discern my heart and 
 ways, I have chosen the Lord for my portion, I take 
 up my rest in him, and not in the creature. To 
 love, and fear, and admire, and bless him, and to 
 have communion with him, is my chief joy; and the 
 eternal vision and fruition of God is my great hope. 
 I would not only have God hereafter, but here in 
 this world for my chief good. He is even now 
 better than all the world. 
 
 I come to God by Jesus Christ; and as I be- 
 lieve in God, I believe also in Christ, and rejoice 
 and glory in him; and acknowledging my own sin- 
 fulness and unworthiness, I rest entirely on him as 
 the ground of my justification to life, and of all 
 favour and acceptance with God. 
 
 I receive Christ as my Lord, and give up myself 
 to him. I let him into my heart by faith. I 
 esteem him precious, and am willing to suffer the 
 loss of all, that 1 may win him. 
 
 I desire to know him in the power of his death 
 
330 
 
 and resurrection, and am much grieved that I do so 
 weakly experience that power, and feel it not more 
 operative in me, in my dying to sin and the world, 
 and in living and walking in the Spirit. 
 
 I do not cease to lament the more heinous sins of 
 my life; and cannot forbear continually imploring 
 the pardon of them. I do not return again to them, 
 and I resolve never so to do. 
 
 I watch and pray, and strive against all sin, but 
 especially against those sins to which I am more 
 especially inclined. My conflicts are daily, and I 
 am put hard to it ; but I do not yield up myself ta 
 any sin, nor lie down in it, yea, I do not suffer sin- 
 ful thoughts to lodge in me. 
 
 I am many times much discomposed, damped in 
 spirit, deadened in duty, distracted in my studies, 
 and molested and hindered every way, by the sin 
 that dwelleth in me. But I resolve, that sin shall 
 have no rest in my soul, and that I will never en- 
 joy it. 
 
 Though I cannot keep sin out of my heart, yet 
 it doth not reign in my mortal body, nor do I yield 
 my members to the service of it, 
 
 I would fulfil all righteousness, and owe nothing 
 to any man but love. I had a hundred fold rather 
 suffer wrong, than do wrong. 
 
 ^t was said of Christ, that no guile was found in 
 hi$ mouth; and of the faithful company that followed 
 the Lamb, that no guile was found in their mouth. 
 And that it may be so with me, I endeavour with 
 my whole heart. 
 
 I trust God with my chief outward concernment; 
 even with that about which I am most solicitous, 
 
331 
 
 and wherein to be satisfied is of great moment to 
 me, for that it hath as great an influence upon my 
 spirit as any outward thing hath. And I do be- 
 lieve that God will provide for me herein, or other- 
 wise supply the want of it. 
 
 My earnest desire of God is, that my outward 
 condition may be so stated by his wise and gracious 
 providence, as I may be least exposed to temptation, 
 and best disposed and furthered unto duty. 
 
 I have an inclination to seek self, particularly in 
 vain applause, and that in religious services; and 
 herein I have been highly guilty: but I shame my- 
 self for it before God, and I am willing to be satis- 
 fied in the praise that comes from him alone; and I 
 trust through his grace, that I can deny myself in 
 matter of reputation to do his will. 
 
 I love the Lord Jesus Christ, and all his saints. 
 The broken estate of the church, especially by in- 
 testine evils, is a great trouble to my spirit. The 
 scandals of professors I am truly grieved at, and I 
 would not by their weaknesses seek to excuse my 
 own faults, or an applauding of my own virtues. 
 I have no settled bitterness and revenge against 
 
 o o 
 
 my enemies, but I love, pity, and pray for them. 
 As concerning God's enemies 1 am more provoked, 
 but I would not be inhuman or cruel against them; 
 for the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness 
 of God. 
 
 I contemn none, I would not imbitter the spirit 
 of any. I would answer all obligations of courtesy, 
 as accounting it a righteousness. I would not in- 
 sult over the weakness of any; and this is partly out 
 of natural tenderness and moral considerations; and 
 
332 
 
 I find, that the goodness and kindness of God, the 
 meekness and gentleness of Christ, hath hereunto 
 made impression upon me. 
 
 I find upon the review of my life past, according 
 to the clearest judgment that I can make, that I 
 have not gone backward, but proceeded forward, in 
 the ways of godliness. And this increase I reckon 
 not by sudden fits now and then happening, but by 
 the main progress of the work in the total sura. 
 
 I have been grieved that I am no more elevated 
 in the hope of heaven, and that I cannot attain to a 
 longing desire to be gone hence, and to be there 
 with Christ. I have laboured to raise up my heart, 
 and have had enlargement, even when deadness and 
 flatness had been upon me. I think sometimes, 
 were my evidences clear for heaven, I would exult 
 to be gone hence this very hour; but I find not this 
 readiness at all times. 
 
 When I have had a good design in hand for God's 
 glory, and some public benefit, I watched against 
 vanity of mind, and vainglory in carrying it on; and 
 I desire purely to aim at God's glory, and to be 
 satisfied with my reward in him. And I take heed, 
 that I forget not my mortality, when I am pursuing 
 that design; but I would fain bring up myself to this 
 frame, to be contented to be taken hence in the 
 midst of it, as judging that I shall be no loser by my 
 removal, and that God cannot stand in need of that 
 service. 
 
 Lord, forgive my inordinate self-love, which hath 
 disturbed the actings of pure charity in several in- 
 stances of moment. Self-love hath had motions 
 contrary to the love of God and my neighbour. 
 
333 
 
 Nevertheless my judgment has disallowed it, and I 
 have, for the most part, done that which the love of 
 God and my neighbour did command. 
 
 O Lord, forgive my ten thousand talents ! I come 
 to Jesus Christ, who hath made satisfaction, and lay 
 this heavy reckoning to his account. Lord, forgive 
 my iniquity, for it is exceeding great ! 
 
 WRITTEN IN 1675. 
 
 Upon the review of the foregoing evidences, after 
 twelve years, I find through grace the same abiding 
 in me, and more and more rooted. And some par- 
 ticulars which made me more to doubt of my good 
 estate, I find to be since that time in a greater de- 
 gree vanquished. 
 
 I have done what in me lies, to call to remem- 
 brance all my remarkable sins, from my childhood 
 and youth till now: and as far as I can judge, I 
 have repented of them both generally and particu- 
 larly. And I now repent of them all, from the bot- 
 tom of my heart, with a self-abhorrence, if I can 
 know my own heart by the strictest and most impar- 
 tial search that I can make. 
 
 Upon the best judgment that I can make of the 
 nature of sin, and the frame of my own heart and 
 course of life, I know no sin lying upon me, which 
 doth not consist with habitual repentance, and with 
 the hatred of sin, and with an unfeigned consent, 
 that God be my Saviour and Sanctifier, and with the 
 loving of God above all. 
 
 The mercy of God towards me in the prolonging 
 of the day of grace; in the striving of his Spirit; in 
 
334 
 
 his chastisements; in the checks of conscience; in the 
 recovery of my soul out of distempers and backslid- 
 ings; doth greatly affect my heart, and strongly en- 
 gage me to him. This makes me often call upon 
 my soul, and all that is within me, to bless his holy 
 name. 
 
 Though my spiritual growth be very low and 
 slow; yet to this present time, I have not grown 
 worse, but better; speaking of growth in the whole 
 space, or greater spaces of my time past, and not 
 every particular day. 
 
 By prayer and endeavours long continued, I have 
 in some measure overcome a special very sinful dis- 
 temper of mind, and gained the contrary temper 
 against a natural propensity. 
 
 Though my faith in Christ be weak, yet to be a 
 partaker of his promises, I am ready to part with all 
 that is dear in this world; and I have no hope of 
 happiness but in Christ. 
 
 Though I have had doubtings touching the pro- 
 mised salvation, yet I know that as to my own felicity, 
 I prize nothing more than that salvation, being the 
 glorifying and enjoying God for ever, and I embrace 
 it as my best good. 
 
 I love Christ, whom I have not seen, and I am 
 affected towards him, as towards a person who both 
 taught and did the most excellent things, and pro- 
 mised a most excellent state to his followers, and 
 purchased their redemption at the dearest rate. 
 
 1 am heartily grieved for loving God so little: 
 yet 1 am sure this I wrote according to a full per- 
 suasion at that time, viz. I love nothing more than 
 God. In my esteem and choice, I prefer the spiri- 
 
SS5 
 
 tual and heavenly, incomparably before the animal 
 and earthly life. And this esteem and choice is 
 made good by performance in ordinary. 
 
 I love to love God: and I desire this love not 
 only as an evidence of my salvation, but for itself. 
 I had much rather have a heart to love him perfectly, 
 than to have all the riches, honours, and pleasures 
 of this world. 
 
 My conscience bears me witness, that in the pre- 
 sent exercise of my ministry, I have no self-end of 
 worldly advantage, or reputation among men, or any 
 interest of the carnal mind; but if the command of 
 Christ, and the necessities of souls did not oblige 
 me to this service, I should gladly retire to privacy 
 and solitude. 
 
 My temporal estate is mean and low, yet I am 
 contented with it, and humbly bless God for what I 
 have. I live in as narrow a compass for expenses 
 as I can, that I may have something to give to the 
 poor, and to be helpful to those that are in need, 
 according to my ability. x\nd as God hath required 
 of us to love mercy; and our Saviour hath said, " It 
 is a more blessed thing to give than to receive;" 
 so I have more pleasure in giving a portion to the 
 needy, as far as my mean estate will bear, than in 
 laying out for the delight of my own sense or worldly 
 conveniences. And this proceeds not from a con- 
 ceit of merit in any thing that I can do, but from a 
 love to please God, and do good. 
 
 Though I have a good knowledge about the pre- 
 mises, yet 1 am apt to waver about the conclusion. 
 And though I apprehend the evidences of ray sin- 
 cerity to be clear, yet a timorousness remains in me. 
 
356 
 
 Though I have not as yet overcome the fear of 
 death, yet I am sure, that the unwillingness that is 
 in me to die, is not that I might enjoy the pleasures 
 of sense, or any gratification of the animal life. 
 
 I feel in myself a burden of sin and corruption : 
 much sensuality, earthliness, selfishness; nevertheless 
 I judge, there is that predominance of love to God 
 and holiness, which I hope is unmoveably seated in 
 my soul ; whereupon I hope that it cannot be, that 
 I should be cast out of his blissful presence into that 
 perdition, which is a state of immutable hatred of 
 him. 
 
 I apprehend, that the most horrid and hellish 
 state of hell itself lies in its everlasting and utmost 
 enmity against God. 
 
 Thus I am searching and trying my heart and 
 ways ; and what I find by myself, I write down, that 
 I may have it by me for my relief in an evil day, and 
 an hour of temptation. For I must expect the time, 
 when by weakness, or anguish of body or mind, I 
 may be disabled to recollect myself, and duly to state 
 the case of my own soul. And the powers of nature 
 may so fail, that I may have but a very weak appre- 
 hension of what I have to do in this great concern. 
 
 I am warned by the parable of the ten virgins to 
 look to it, that together with my lamp, I may have 
 oil in my vessel, and be ready to enter in with the 
 bridegroom at his coming. 
 
 Lord, be merciful to me a sinner, to me one of 
 the chiefest of sinners ! O my exceeding sinfulness ! 
 O the riches of thy goodness towards me ! Should 
 not I loathe my carnal self? Should not I grieve 
 for grieving thy Spirit ? I desire to do so ; 1 hope 
 to do so. 
 
337 
 
 Do what thou wilt witli me, so thou pardon and 
 sanctify, and save me ! I am afraid of thy judg- 
 ments; I can endure but Httle; O how weak is my 
 heart! Nevertheless, I will endeavour, and I trust, 
 through grace, that I shall be enabled to bear thy 
 correcting hand. Thou art wise and holy; thou art 
 merciful and gracious; thou retainest not thine anger 
 for ever, because thou delightest in mercy ! 
 
 spare me, and consider me, and deal with me 
 not after my sins, and reward me not after mine ini- 
 quities; but as far as the east is from the west, so 
 far remove my transgressions from me; comfort me, 
 and satisfy me, for I wait for relief from thee ! 
 Whatsoever befals me, I will put my trust in thee ! 
 
 1 believe, O Lord, help my unbelief. Lord, in- 
 crease my faith. O my God, I lie at thy feet and 
 mercy; 1 put my sinful distressed soul into the hands 
 of Jesus Christ, and I rest on the covenant of grace 
 made in him, as all my salvation, and all my desire. 
 Amen. 
 
 tVRITTEN IN 1676. 
 
 O THE wonderful mercy of God towards me, a 
 most vile and wretched sinner, in convincing, rebuk- 
 ing, and awakening me unto a self-abhorrence, and 
 an utter detestation of my sins, my special sins, so 
 that I cannot be reconciled to them. 
 
 Since the more powerful awakening of my con- 
 science, I never have, and am persuaded I never shall 
 return to those former sins, which made a breach 
 between God and my soul. 
 
 P 35 
 
338 
 
 I hate every sin impartially. A sinful state is, 
 in my internal sense, a horrid and a hellish state. 
 
 I find myself firmly resolved to give up any part 
 of my worldly estate, that I shall be found to hold 
 to another's wrong. If it be doubtful where the 
 right lies, I am resolved first to endeavour a reference 
 to conscientious, knowing men ; and if that cannot 
 be fitly had, to submit it to ^ legal trial, with a de- 
 sire that right may take place. I know not that I 
 hold any such estate, or that there is any doubt of 
 my legal right to any thing that I possess; but I 
 have made supposition for the trial of my own spirit. 
 
 When I had a father or mother, I would have 
 trusted them, to defend or deliver me from any evil, 
 from which it was in their power to defend or deliver 
 me. In the same manner I now trust to my loving 
 wife. Why then should I be suspicious of God, 
 in whose hands I am? Why should I doubt of his 
 dear love and tender mercy towards me, or call in 
 question his good-will to preserve or deliver me from 
 any affliction, that would be too hard for me to bear; 
 or to sustain and comfort me under any suffering 
 which he sees fit to inflict upon me? 
 
 If, when I was more careless and forgetful of God, 
 and when I ventured upon breaches with him, he 
 was pleased to convince me of my sin, and to rouse 
 me up to a greater care, and to make me more ear- 
 nest for pardon, and for healing, and for all needful 
 grace, and more thoroughly resolved to follow him 
 throughout; surely he will not refuse me in my ad- 
 dresses for more grace, and a more confirmed state 
 of holiness. If I " follow on to know the Lord," 
 I shall know him, and see his salvation 
 
339 
 
 Though death and judgment be of dreadful con- 
 sideration; though God be holy and just, and I be 
 vile, and guilty, and worthy of eternal perdition; yet 
 why should I doubt of mercy and forgiveness, and 
 of support and comfort in the darkness of death, and 
 of justification in the day of judgment, from a mer- 
 ciful and faithful God, through a powerful Redeemer 
 and Advocate; seeing as an humble, penitent believer, 
 I lie at his feet, and cast myself into his arms, and 
 wait on his grace, and am resolved to keep his ways, 
 and never to return to folly. 
 
 I more desire to be sincere, than to know that I 
 am so. The comfort and deiii^ht of beinw and doinfj 
 good, I set not so much by, as the very being and 
 doing good. To love God, and to be conformable 
 to him, is that which I most of all desire. 
 
 I will trust God in his ways. I will strive against 
 an over-timorous solicitude about my salvation, and 
 will commit myself to God, who is infinite goodness 
 and love, and I will lie down and take my repose 
 therein. 
 
 I am grieved, when I observe, or hear of the 
 scandals of some professors; and the disorders of 
 those, that are in charity to be judged sincere; and 
 the follies and frailties of the more sincere and up- 
 right. And it humbles me, by causing me to reflect 
 upon myself, and my own faultiness, and weakness, 
 and proneness to offend; and it makes me more to 
 desire the heavenly society, and to be among the 
 spirits of just men made perfect. 
 
 My sins of sensuality in every kind and degree, 
 I search out, and repent of. I am kept by grace 
 from cross sins of this sort. In the gratifications 
 P2 
 
340 
 
 of sense, which are lawful in general, I scrupulously 
 dread excess, and undueness of circumstances. How 
 earnestly do I desire an absolute purity ! 
 
 All envy, unrighteousness, uncharitableness, hard- 
 heartedness, undutifulness, and base selfishness, 
 which is the root of all, I have seen, lamented, and 
 abhorred. The motions and stirrings of mind, that 
 way, are suppressed and dislodged: I will never give 
 way thereunto. 
 
 Self-applauding, self-seeking, in matter of- praise 
 and honour before men, I strive against. I desire 
 to be as sincere to another's reputation, as to my 
 own. I would not value others by their regard to 
 me, but by their true worth. I would be contented 
 to be little in the eyes of others. This I unfeignedly 
 desire and endeavour, and I hope that I have it in 
 some good degree. 
 
 All my omissions and negligences in the work of 
 the ministry, in preaching, in personal private appli- 
 cation, I bewail, and heartily resolve upon more dili- 
 gence and faithfulness. 
 
 Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O 
 Lord; but remember me, and spare me, according to 
 thy great mercy in Christ Jesus, the great propitia- 
 tion for sin, in whom I desire to be found, and under 
 the covert of whose wings I stand, that I may be 
 saved from thy wrath, and enjoy thy peace, and live 
 in thy presence, where is fulness of joy, and pleasures 
 for evermore ! 
 
3n 
 
 WRITTEN IN 1679. 
 
 God will never damn, in hell, any soul that hath 
 the habitual predominant love of God, though cul- 
 pably remiss, and otherwise sinful; yea, hell and 
 such love of God, are inconsistent. 
 
 I love the holy will of God with all my heart, 
 and hate all disconforraity to it. Nothing is more 
 grievous to me than to displease God; and nothing 
 is more pleasant to me than to please hira. 
 
 I strive after Christian perfection. 
 
 I labour to be unbottomed of self, to die to self- 
 advancement, to self-glorying, and to all selfish joys, 
 and to live wholly in, and to God, and to have self 
 swallowed up in the love of him. 
 
 I labour in the work of self-resignation, that my 
 will may be confined to, and included in the will of 
 God. 
 
 I strive after patience in its perfect work, and do 
 find a willingness to yield to God's will in my chas- 
 tisements. I still justify God, and do not entertain 
 a hard thought of his dealing with me; but conclude, 
 that it is altogether holy, just, and good, and for the 
 best. 
 
 I feel my sin a greater burden to me than my 
 affliction. I had rather have health of soul in a 
 body full of pain, than health and ease of body with 
 a distempered soul. And the sense of my great 
 sinfulness disposeth me to patience, under my afflict- 
 ing infirmities of body. 
 
 I narrowly watch my heart, that it may not lodge 
 or admit a vain thought. When I am surprised 
 with vanity, 1 suppress it as soon as I observe it. 
 
34£ 
 
 I am very fearful of offending in a word. When 
 on a sudden, and inadvertently, I have spoken a 
 word, which upon second thoughts is doubtful to rae, 
 though I had not such doubt in the speaking of it; 
 I have been much perplexed about it, and engaged 
 myself to a greater watchfulness. 
 
 V/RITTEN IN 1680. 
 
 Surely Christ hath my heart. Whensoever I 
 swerve from Christ in a thought, word, or deed, it 
 is by inadvertency and surprisal, against my fixed 
 principle ; and I have great regret at it, and loathe 
 myself for it. 
 
 If I were out of all fear of damnation, I had rather 
 be holy than unholy; and I take pains, and use 
 God's means to be holy in opposition to the flesh, 
 and I make it my chief care. And I do this because 
 I make the enjoying of God my chief good; and 
 rather than lose the hope thereof, I would willingly 
 undergo the sufferings of this life, which lead to that 
 blessed fruition, not excepting the fiery trial itself. 
 
 I hope, when the end cometh, ray God will say 
 to me, " Dear child, thy warfare is accomplished, 
 thine iniquity is pardoned, enter thou into my rest.'* 
 Therefore, I will both hope, and quietly wait, for 
 the salvation of God. 1 will hope to the end. 
 Strengthen me, O my God, that I faint not. 
 
 WRITTEN IN 1682. 
 
 I HAVE no design; I pursue nothing contrary to 
 God's interest: but all my designs and pursuits are 
 
343 
 
 for God and holiness. I think I am sure of this, if 
 I be sure of any thing. My great aim, and care, 
 and labour, is to cleanse myself from all filthiness of 
 flesh and spirit, and to perfect holiness in the fear of 
 God. 
 
 To whom I yield myself a servant to obey, his 
 servant I am: but I do not yield myself a servant to 
 sin, to obey it; but I do yield myself a servant to 
 God, to obey him. The design and business of my 
 life is to do his will. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 The workings of my Heart in my Affliction. 
 
 WRITTEN IN 1680. 
 
 The will of God in laying this affliction upon me, 
 I unfeignedly approve as holy, just, and good: and 
 I am unfeignedly wilHng to bear the affliction, as it 
 is an evil laid upon me by his will, till the time come 
 in which he thinks fit to remove it. 
 
 I watch, and pray, and strive, that I may not 
 give way to a repining thought against his holy hand. 
 In this point the " spirit is willing, but the flesh is 
 weak." My mind doth really consent to God's 
 dispensation, and to my submission, as being most 
 agreeable to his wise and gracious government, and 
 most conducing to my salvation. But my sensitive 
 part, and my mind also, as it is in part unrenewed, 
 weak, and sinful, doth greatly reluctate; so that I 
 
344 
 
 am put hard to it, and I must say, " I am willing, 
 Lord, help my unwilHngness." 
 
 I have not observed in the several days past, that 
 a thought of direct or positive discontent, or vexa- 
 tious commotion of mind, hath been admitted by me; 
 nevertheless, I see to my grief, that I fall exceeding 
 short of that quietness, content, and cheerfulness in 
 my condition, and of that freeness of self-resignation 
 to God's will, that I desire, and his goodness calls 
 for. 
 
 I wrestle with God by importunate prayer, that 
 this thorn in the flesh might depart from me; that 
 this distemper might be removed, or so mitigated, 
 that I might be in some comfortable ease, and get a 
 more cheerful freedom in doing my duty. Yet I 
 would not wrest this relief out of his hands un- 
 seasonably, and without his good-will and his bless- 
 ing. I would wait his time, and desire to have it 
 with his love and favour, and with a saving benefit. 
 
 My earnest desire of deliverance is limited with 
 submission to his holy will. Yet I find that this 
 submission is no easy matter, but that I must take 
 pains with my own heart; and that it is God who 
 must work my heart to it, and keep under the flesh, 
 which is always ready to rebel. It is hard to be 
 willing to bear my wearisome condition : and, O how 
 weak is my heart, and ready to sink if it be not up- 
 held by a strength above my own ! O let his grace 
 be sufficient for me, and let his power be made per- 
 fect in my weakness. 
 
 I feel myself better in the inner-man for this 
 chastening. It hath furthered mortification and 
 self-denial, and done much to the breaking of the 
 
345 
 
 Ijeart of pride, and to bring me towards that more 
 perfect self-examination for which I labour. 
 
 It hath much deadened the world to me, and my 
 desire to the world. It makes me know in earnest 
 the emptiness of all creatures, and how great my 
 concern is in God. It drives me close to him, and 
 makes me to fetch all my comforts from him. 
 
 I see of how little value all outward thinors are 
 towards true contentment; and not only in my present 
 afflicted state, but if I were at ease and in full pros- 
 perity. The sense of this benefit to my soul, is the 
 great means of bringing my will to that weak degree 
 of submission to God's will, to which I have attained. 
 
 that I could live more by faith, in this trying 
 affliction. I endeavour to impress upon my soul 
 those arguments which the Scripture affords for 
 patience and long-suffering with joyfulness. But 
 this will not do the work, unless the spirit of faith 
 and patience be given from him, from whom comes 
 down every good and perfect gift. 
 
 1 pray, I cry to my Father, that he would give 
 me the Holy Spirit, according to his gracious promise, 
 that I might show forth the power of his grace, and 
 that I might not dishonour him, nor discourage his 
 children, nor reproach religion by my weakness. 
 And in my bearing of it well, my reputation is 
 nothing regarded by me in comparison of the honour 
 of Christ. Him I desire to glorify both in my 
 obedience and patience. 
 
 I do not love God the less, because of his cor- 
 recting hand upon me. As my necessities drive 
 me, so his love draws me, and my love brings me to 
 him. I look to him as my Father: and shall I not 
 P3 
 
346 
 
 honour my Father, and give him reverence, when I 
 am chastened of him? The Lord is my portion, 
 saith my soul : therefore will I hope in him, I will 
 wait for the Lord, who hideth his face; I will look 
 after him; he retaineth not his anger for ever, be- 
 cause he delighteth in mercy. Therefore he will 
 turn again, and have compassion upon me. 
 
 If he kill me, I will put my trust in him : for he 
 will not cast me off for ever, if I cleave to him with 
 faith unfeigned; but even through death itself will 
 he save me. He will bring me forth to the light, 
 and I shall behold his righteousness. 
 
 When I say, What shall I do, in case of such 
 or such troublesome or dangerous consequences? 
 my heart answers. Be not careful, God will provide; 
 1 will leave it to him. 
 
 Besides a natural desire of ease and rest, the 
 sense of the temptation to which I am liable in this 
 condition makes me importunate to be delivered 
 from it. I feelingly know the weakness of my own 
 heart, and I am not ignorant of the devil's malice 
 and subtlety, and how he will make the fiercest as- 
 saults where I am weakest. Whereupon I tremble 
 in myself, for fear of being tempted, and shaken, 
 and greatly amazed. And upon this ground, re- 
 specting my soul's safety, I judge an humble and 
 patient importunity with God, for the removing and 
 moderating of my distemper, to be my duty. 
 
 Yet to keep me from being over-solicitous and 
 anxious in this thing, I consider, that God doth 
 govern and limit all our temptations, and will not 
 " suffer us to be tempted above what we are able; 
 hut will, with the temptation, open a way for us to 
 escape." 
 
34>7 
 
 Nevertheless, I find, that I do much offend by 
 too great a vehemence of desire to be deUvered from 
 this grievous burden, without due submission ; also 
 by too much disquietness and dejection, when after 
 some expectation of a benefit by that means, I per- 
 ceive that my hope thereof is Uke to be frustrated. 
 The Lord help me to carry it better, and as I ought 
 to do, and keep my mind in its right frame ! 
 
 My business under this affliction is to be careful 
 about my own part, and to leave God's part to his 
 care. My part is to do my duty, and to get the 
 benefit of the affliction; but to remove it, is God's 
 part. Let me perform what belongs to me, and 
 what belongs to God he will certainly perform in his 
 own time and way. 
 
 The sum of my duty is humbly to comply with 
 the dispensation, and to behave myself suitably to 
 it, and to please and honour God under it. Ac- 
 cordingly, in this I labour, and in this way I seek 
 for comfort. And first I justify God and judge 
 myself. God exercises his own holiness and justice 
 in this chastisement. 
 
 His justice and holiness I approve, and accept 
 the punishment of mine iniquity, and exercise a 
 hatred of the sin for which I now smart. 
 
 I vvill bear the indignation of the Lord, because 
 I have sinned against him, and I repent with a self- 
 abhorrence ; and I lie in the dust at his feet, and 
 wait on him, until that he have mercy upon me, and 
 I am glad to receive mercy upon his terms. 
 
 I have fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope 
 that is set before me. I do most heartily take God 
 for my portion, and I had rather live the divine life 
 
348 
 
 in co.nforraity to him, and fellowship with him, here 
 in the first-fruits of the Spirit, and hereafter in the 
 fulness of glory, than live in the fulness of the de- 
 lights that helong to the natural life upon earth, in 
 a way of sin, and alienation from the life of God. 
 
 I do most heartily take Christ according to the 
 offer of the Gospel, not only to be justified from my 
 sins, and delivered from the wrath to come, by his 
 merits; but also to be sanctified by his word and 
 Spirit, and to be governed by his laws, and to be 
 brought by him unto the aforesaid fellowship with , 
 God. And my life and practice, in the main bent 
 and ordinary course thereof, is according to this 
 choice, in a daily walking not by sight and sense, 
 but by faith; not after the flesh, but after the spirit, 
 in setting my heart not on earthly, but on heavenly 
 things. 
 
 I cast off vain desires and hopes, and my expecta- 
 tions of good are from God, according to the tenour 
 of his promises. When I walk in darkness, and 
 see no light of outward comfort, human helps, and 
 visible means, I will trust in the name of the Lord, 
 and stay myself upon my God. 
 
 I strive with my own spirit, to subdue it to the 
 will of God : and in whatsoever I am tempted to be 
 most impatient, therein I labour most for patience. 
 My great care is, that I may not sin against my 
 God in any kind; and more especially, that 1 may 
 not sin by a rebellious impatience under his correct- 
 ing hand. 
 
 In this present distress I look upon myself as be- 
 ing upon my trial ; and therefore I look more dili- 
 gently to my behaviour in it. Now a price is put 
 
34g 
 
 into my hand for the proof of my sincerity, and I 
 labour accordingly to make good proof of it. 
 
 I am wilhng to serve God in pain and patience, 
 else I were unworthy of so good a master. I am 
 willing to be conformable to Christ in suffering, else 
 I were unworthy of him. But here I must say 
 again, " The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh 
 is weak ; Lord, help my unwillingness." 
 
 I am called to deny all the pleasures of sense, 
 and to mind them no more ; and I am heartily will- 
 ing of it. I am called to declare to others, by the 
 exercise of faith and patience, the righteousness of 
 the Lord, and his tender mercies, and great faithful- 
 ness, and that he alone is all-sufficient. O that 
 the power of his grace may be thus magnified in 
 me ! 
 
 This is the fruit of affliction that I look after; and 
 in this I will labour more and more. And through 
 the help of divine grace, I will not doubt of a good 
 issue, while I am found in the way of duty. " To 
 them who, by patient continuance in well-doing, 
 seek for glory, and honour, and immortality, God, 
 who cannot lie, hath promised to give eternal life." 
 
 I am desirous to be delivered from this affliction 
 (if it be the will of the Lord) upon this account, 
 that I might have a more clear proof of my freer 
 choosing of God for my portion, when I am not thus 
 driven to him, as now, because I can go no where 
 else for comfort; also of my freer turning from the 
 -world, even then when I am capable of enjoying it. 
 To have such a proof of these things in myself, I 
 should take for a great advantage, and be greatly 
 thankful. Nevertheless, for quieting of my mind. 
 
350 
 
 I consider that my present afflicted state doth better 
 secure me from temptations, which might draw my 
 heart from God to the love of the world ; in which 
 respect, prosperity is far more dangerous than ad- 
 versity. 
 
 Moreover, my present state gives me advantage 
 for a higher proof of the grace that is in me, and of 
 the power of the divine aid, upholding me in a life 
 of faith and patience, by which I live upon God 
 alone, when worldly comfort fails me; and by which 
 I am enabled to overcome things grievous to nature; 
 and to get above, not only the pleasures, but the 
 sharp pains of sense; and to live, and endure with 
 little natural or bodily rest. 
 
 Also it gives me the advantage of exercising a 
 resolved, willing self-resignation to God in this dis- 
 pensation, which is harsh to flesh and blood ; and a 
 resting in hope, when there is no present appearance 
 of help; and a waiting and looking for the Lord, 
 who hides his face; and a cleaving to him by con- 
 stant love, though he doth sore bruise me. 
 
 If I continue in the exercise of these graces, 
 they will give me a good proof, that the heavenly 
 nature is in me, and will make way for great assur- 
 ance towards God, and full consolation in Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 And yet further: I trust that I have, long before 
 this distress, chosen God for my portion, and drawn 
 off my heart from the flattering vanities of this 
 world. And I know, that in this distress, I do not 
 come to him constrainedly, or merely as driven. 
 
 I delight to draw nigh to him, to pour out my 
 heart before him in prayer and meditation. My 
 
351^ 
 
 meditation of him is sweet to my soul, and I do not 
 love to be diverted from it. And when my distem- 
 per is any whit more easy, it works unto a rejoicing 
 in him. And it is for an enlargement of heart to- 
 wards him that I chiefly desire bodily ease and rest. 
 
 Hear my cry, O God ; attend unto my prayer ! 
 I will cry unto thee, when my heart is over- 
 whelmed : lead me to the Rock that is higher than I ! 
 
 God, the infinite goodness and love, will not cast 
 ofF a poor soul that lies at his foot, and cries for the 
 help of his grace, when he is ready to sink under 
 the burden, and is willing to have mercy upon his 
 terms. 
 
 Therefore I will still cry to him, and look for 
 him, and lean upon him, and will not depart from 
 him by an evil heart of unbelief. This I resolve in 
 his strength. Lord, strengthen me unto the per- 
 fect work of patience ! 
 
 Lord, I heartily consent that thou shouldest use 
 me as thou pleasest, so thou use me as one of those 
 that love thy name ! Disposal is an effect of pro- 
 priety, but it is always a regular and a loving dis- 
 posal of the subjects of his government I O deal 
 favourably with thy servant ! Thou knowest my 
 frame; remember that I am but dust ! 
 
 The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me : 
 thy mercy, O Lord, endureth for ever. Forsake 
 not the works of thine own hands ! O Lord, with- 
 out thee I can do nothing. Therefore I must beg, 
 -that thou wilt give grace sufficient; without which I 
 cannot subsist : for therein is the life of my spirit. 
 For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven ! 
 Pity me, O Lord, as a father pitieth his children ! 
 
§52 
 
 Comfort me, O Lord, as one whom his mother 
 comforteth ! 
 
 The Lord will wait, that he may be gracious unt-o 
 you: for the Lord is a God of judgment: blessed 
 are all they that wait for him. 
 
 Can I be in a better hand? As my professed 
 judgment is concerning God's proceeding, so let me 
 stand affected towards it. 
 
 PART in. 
 
 Notes for Himself, 
 ■ 
 
 Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it 
 are the issues of life. 
 
 Death and life are in the power of the tongue. 
 
 Entertain not a sensual imagination for a moment. 
 
 Never expect any thing from the world; and when 
 it ofFers*thee any thing that is good for thee, receive 
 it : but catcli not at it greedily. 
 
 Be always mindful what thou mayest do for thine 
 own and others' salvation, in every instance, and upon 
 every occasion. 
 
 Die daily. 
 
 In arguing with another, watch against every in- 
 ordinate heat of passion, loud speaking, and every 
 rash word. 
 
 Any matter of trial to thee, reckon among thy 
 gains. 
 
 Take no delight of sense, but in a manifest and 
 
353 
 
 direct subserviency to spiritual ends; and use not 
 that delight to irritate, but to allay sensuality. 
 
 When a sensual imagination or passion breaks 
 in, then excite the taste of the powers of the world 
 to come; and delay not to recover the divine frame. 
 
 What thou doubtest, do not. 
 
 In thy actions, consider not only what is lawful, 
 but what is best in the present circumstances; and 
 do that. 
 
 When thou art in company, where the talk is but 
 vain, watch to put in a word, that may be to edifica- 
 tion. 
 
 If any despise thee, do not bear a grudge against 
 him for it. And be not offended with any, merely 
 because they do not honour thee, 
 
 When thou art framing excuses, take heed of 
 speaking an untruth, or approaching near to it: lest 
 in avoiding the offence of man, thou make too bold 
 with God. Take heed of this also, when thou 
 wouldest speak pleasingly, and avoid offence in 
 speaking. 
 
 Use no recreations or delight of sense, but what 
 thou canst at that very time desire of God, that it 
 may be sanctified to spiritual ends. 
 
 W'hen thou hearest that another hath spoken any 
 thing to thy injury or disparagement, beware of a 
 transport of anger, that thou speak not harshly or 
 unadvisedly against him, or too passionately for self, 
 or as too much concerned for self. 
 
 Watch against all secret pleasure in the lessen- 
 ing of another for advancing thyself. 
 
 Pray heartily for the success of others, who per- 
 form the same service that thou art engaged in* 
 
354 
 
 And rejoice in whatsoever good is done by them, as 
 in what is done by thyself, and own it before men. 
 
 Use not animosity and contention in any matter 
 that may be brought to a good issue in the way of 
 peace. 
 
 Engage not hastily as a party in a difference be- 
 tween others, but reserve thyself impartial and un- 
 engaged, that thou mayest moderate between them. 
 
 Whilst thou lamentest thy weakness in some 
 cases, and seekest more strength, be sure to use that 
 greater strength in all other cases, whereunto thou 
 hast attained ; and be not remiss or forgetful in any 
 duty that is more easy to thee : so shalt thou have 
 comfort in tliy willing mind, and do much towards 
 the attainment of that which thou yet wantest, and 
 reachest after. 
 
 In the time of prayer, let no business that is not 
 of present necessity divert thee from it. 
 
 When thou hast an opportunity of speaking a 
 word for the good of another's soul, defer not the 
 doing of it till another time. 
 
 Watch against all bitter and passionate speeches, 
 against malignant opposers of truth. For meekness 
 of spirit and behaviour, is more according to Christ, 
 than wrathful zeal. 
 
 In thy zeal against the sins of others, be mindful 
 of thy own exceeduig sinfulness : call to remem- 
 brance thy great offences, which, though they be 
 unfeignedly repented of, give thee to understand 
 what cause thou hast to be meek and humble, and 
 patient toward all men. 
 
 Watch against the motions of pride and hypocrisy, 
 in the presence of any person whose favour and opi- 
 
355 
 
 nion thou much esteemest. What is man that thou 
 shouldest pass to be judged by man's judgment, or 
 seek applause from man ! 
 
 Be not discomposed about some petty absurdities 
 of behaviour, or little indecorums, or oversights; for 
 so to be, is pusillanimity. 
 
 When thou hast conceived a dislike of any per- 
 son, his ways, or actions, or dost ill resent his car- 
 riage towards thee ; take heed thou do not take any 
 secret pleasure in the foresight of evil coming upon 
 him ; or in hearing or observing any such folly of 
 his as tends to his reproach or ruin, or notable 
 damage. 
 
 If thou hast forespoken the calamity, or any evil, 
 that in reason is like to befal one, who doth un- 
 advisedly manage himself, and his affairs; take heed 
 of wishing or willing that the evil should come to 
 pass, lest thy judgment or foresight should seem to 
 be disparaged ; yea, take heed of any motion rising 
 towards such a wish or will. 
 
 My own exceeding faultiness engages me, in 
 seeing and hearing the faults and follies of others, 
 to pity them, rather than to rejoice or glory over 
 them; and to cover or lessen those faults, rather 
 than to aggravate or display them. 
 
 The mercy and forgiveness that I have found, 
 and hope for at the Lord's hand, engages and dis- 
 poses me to forgive injuries and abuses done to me. 
 And I should not think it much, that I, who am so 
 sinful, should bear some abuses from men. 
 
 It is displeasing to me, to hear the faults of 
 others insisted on, whether they be matters of 
 folly and inconsiderateness, or of perverseness and 
 malice; but especially if the matter be not evident. 
 
356 
 
 I find that petty damages and injuries are apt to 
 be vexatious, especially in a matter the whole whereof 
 is but little; as in a little farm or living. Where- 
 fore I endeavour that I be not surprised with a 
 troublesome appearance, and consider the moment of 
 a thing how light it is. 
 
 Abhor every thought, word, and deed, which is 
 contrary to love, and tends to the hurt of others. 
 
 The more men wrong thee, the more watchfully 
 maintain thy love towards them. 
 
 After thy public ministrations in prayer and 
 preaching, be not thoughtful or much concerned how 
 men like thy performance; but be concerned for 
 this, how acceptable it is to God, and how effectual 
 and successful to holy and saving means. 
 
 If God single me out for special great suffering, 
 I have no reason to judge amiss of it: for such is 
 the state of the things in the world to come, that 
 some individuals must of necessity suffer for the 
 good of the people. And why not I, as well as 
 another? God is my owner, and he may do with 
 me, as with any other, even as he pleaseth ; and he 
 is my Father, and he will use me well, and make me 
 sufficient amends for all my suffering; and I shall be 
 no loser, but an exceeding gainer thereby in the 
 end. 
 
 In this present state of trial, it is requisite that 
 there be a sufficient difficulty and hardship for all 
 those that shall be saved to grapple with. 
 
 For all our boasts of free-will; unless there were 
 some heavy weights of sufferings cast by Providence 
 into the balance, to poise against our propensions to 
 follow lusts, and pleasures, and worldly allurementSj 
 
357 
 
 we should never seriously set ourselves to the severe 
 and self-denying duties which belong to true godli- 
 ness. 
 
 To avoid inconveniences to thyself, expose not 
 any to danger whose safety thou art bound to pro- 
 vide for. 
 
 In all accusations, whether public or private, 
 when thou hast made a sufficient defence, enter not 
 into needless matters for ostentation, or such further 
 vindication as is not necessary. 
 
 I will never wilfully do amiss, by commission or 
 omission, in a greater or lesser matter, because I 
 shall too often do amiss, at least in smaller matters, 
 through ignorance, or inadvertency, or surprisal of 
 passion, do what I can. 
 
 Remember thou hast nothing of thine own, but 
 all is the Lord's; and accordingly use all that thou 
 hast to no carnal interest, but to serve him, as being 
 wholly devoted to him. 
 
 Be as serious and hearty in thy prayer to God 
 for the concerns of others, as for thine own. 
 
 Watch against selfishness, lest it work unto great 
 uncharitableness. 
 
 When thou hast evidences of thy sincerity, which 
 cannot in reason be gainsaid, hold to them, and take 
 comfort in them; yet still endeavour by reviews, and 
 further searchings, to clear all more and more. 
 
 We keep our evidences, by keeping our graces 
 in their lively exercise. 
 
 Fetch thy comforts from heaven, and not from 
 pleasures and hopes here below. 
 
 Do not overvalue any worth that is in thyself; 
 but think it rather less than it is indeed. 
 
358 
 
 If any slight thee, be neither dejected nor pro* 
 voked. 
 
 Do not value men according to their esteem of 
 thee, but according to their true worth. 
 
 Watch against the expectation of hearing thy 
 own praise; and when such a thought arises, instantly 
 suppress it. 
 
 When thou art commended, let not thy thoughts 
 dwell on it with delight; but let it be to thee as no- 
 thing. 
 
 Take heed of too great a valuation of thine own 
 work, or usefulness in thy place; and lay not too 
 great a stress thereon. 
 
 When friends out of love overvalue thee, it con- 
 cerns thee not to overvalue thyself; nor to take more 
 than thy due, though they give it. 
 
 Have a habit of compassion towards the afflicted 
 firmly fixed in thee, that the motions thereof may be 
 suitably stirred up on every occasion. 
 
 Let an abhorrence of any content in another's 
 sufferings be deeply imprinted on thee; that* every 
 thought thereof may be prevented or instantly sup- 
 pressed: yea, hate all disregard to another's misery. 
 
 Watch acrainst all eagerness, and immoderate de- 
 light in eating and drinking; and against minding 
 any kind of food for the pleasing of the sense. 
 Come to thy meals not like a brute, but as becomes 
 a saint. Never terminate in the sensitive pleasure, 
 but make use of it to raise thy heart to God. 
 
 W^hen thou hast eaten so much, so that thou 
 thinkest more is not expedient, or is better forborne 
 than taken, proceed not to a bit more, lest thou be 
 entangled or disturbed. 
 
359 
 
 Still consider, Is this act I go about agreeable to 
 one that hath communion with God? Will this act 
 promote communion with God? Do I come to this 
 act so as to have communion with God thereby pro- 
 moted? 
 
 Seek the lawful contentment of any that are about 
 thee, as thou dost thy own; and be as glad to gratify 
 them as thyself, so far as it is convenient for them. 
 Hate and shun all motions of unworthy selfishness: 
 and see that others be sharers with thee in thy plea- 
 sant things, and be not content to have them to thy- 
 self alone. 
 
 Always mind, and do the present duty. Comply 
 with the present dispensation, and make the most of 
 it. Thy business is to please God, and God will 
 provide for thy comfort. 
 
 Lay thy heart to rest in the will of God. For 
 there is no other rest for the soul to be thought on. 
 I will not be earnest with God for any good but 
 what is included in the covenant of grace. I will 
 expect no good but according to the tenour of that 
 covenant, which is all my salvation, and all my de- 
 sire. 
 
 I am resolved that pride shall not set me to study, 
 or preach, or pray, or carry me on in any service. 
 If thoughts of man's applause, steal in with my 
 honest intentions, I will instantly cast them out, as 
 soon as they be discovered, and I will v/atch and 
 pray to prevent them. I will watch, when I go 
 forth in my service for God, that pride do not send 
 me forth: that men's opinion may be nothing with 
 me, but that the pleasing God, and doing good, be 
 my whole scope. 
 
360 
 
 ' In performing prayer, I consider, that a due re- 
 gard to expressions for men's sake, that they be 
 affecting and not offensive, is not faulty but neces- 
 sary; and therefore must be heeded. And I think, 
 that my thoughts about men's judging have this 
 good effect, that my expressions be not offensive; 
 yet I am jealous of the mixture of corruption and 
 vanity. 
 
 I earnestly endeavour to have my heart so filled 
 with the apprehension of God's infinite majesty, 
 and my infinite concern in him, that all impertinent 
 thoughts may be quite swallowed up. All designing 
 and endeavouring to please men for ray own praise, 
 I do at that very time detest and abandon; yea, at 
 that very time I am sure I do very little regard 
 either the approbation and praise, or the disapproba- 
 tion and dispraise of those very persons, about whom 
 ray thoughts are apt to run out as aforesaid. I do 
 my utmost to prevent, restrain, and suppress all such 
 thoughts; they are a burden to me, and I hope that 
 the merciful God will not impute them to me, to 
 the rejecting of my prayer, or to any breach between 
 him and me. 
 
 If God approve ray service, and own me in it, I 
 shall be abundantly satisfied; though men (whatso- 
 ever or how many soever they be) should despise 
 and loathe it. On the contrary, if men should never 
 so highly approve, I can never be satisfied if God 
 do not accept and bless it. This I am sure of, if I 
 be sure of any thing. 
 
 I discern, that by care I have brought it to that 
 pass, that my thoughts of others present with me in 
 prayer, are not with regard to their praise, which I 
 
361 
 
 value not; but to what is fit to be done by rae in that 
 service, and to their being afFected with it. 
 
 I find. I am prone to be anxiously scrupulous; yet 
 I should consider that there be inevitable weaknesses 
 (as impertinent thoughts) accompanying the best 
 performances. 
 
 35 
 
DEVOUT BREATHINGS 
 
 OF A 
 
 PIOUS SOUL. 
 
 42 
 
DEVOUT BREATHINGS 
 
 OF A 
 
 PIOUS SOUL. 
 
 Lord, what am I, in myself? Dust and ashes formed 
 from nothing. I am nothing, and less than nothing 
 and vanity. But, what am I as a sinner? An in- 
 finitely criminal enemy of God, my Maker, my Pre- 
 server, and Redeemer, whose heart is full of hatred 
 and malice, and my life filled up with rebellion against 
 him. My heart is the very reverse of all the ex- 
 cellency that is in God; my life a presumptuous 
 trampling on all the authority, and an ungrateful 
 contempt and abuse of all the kindness of God ? 
 Ah, my heart ! thou art the quintessence of all evil, 
 harder than a flinty rock, more loathsome than a 
 noisome carcase, more rotten than a long dead corse, 
 more noxious than a pestilential pit or unripe grave, 
 more mischievous than a tyger or scorpion, more 
 ugly than a monster, more proud, deceitful, and 
 desperately wicked than a devil. Oh, wretched man 
 that I am ! who shall deliver me from this body of 
 death? 
 
366 
 
 2. Where sin abounded, indignation and wrath, 
 tribulation and anguish, might have justly for ever 
 abounded. Had I been in hell these many years, I 
 had but received the due reward of my deeds. But 
 where sin abounded, grace did much more abound. 
 1 have done all that I can to dishonour and destroy 
 God; and God doth all he can to save and exalt me. 
 Grace, how undeserved! how unasked! how refused 
 and trampled on by me! but how dear to God! how 
 strong ! how unbounded in God ! By the grace, 
 the free favour of God, I am what I am. By his 
 forbearing grace, I am out of hell. By his saving 
 grace, I am on my way to heaven. By grace I was 
 chosen in Christ. By grace I am redeemed to God 
 by the blood af Christ. By grace I am one spirit 
 with Christ. By grace I am pardoned, reconciled, 
 and accepted in Christ. By grace I am a child and 
 heir of God in Christ. By grace I am quickened 
 and sanctified in Christ. By grace I am preserved 
 and comforted in Christ. And by grace I shall be 
 quickly glorified with and in Christ. — What is this! 
 Saved in the Lord with an everlasting salvation!— 
 Grace, grace unto it. 
 
 3. " Grace reigns through righteousness unto 
 eternal life by Jesus Christ." Who is this Christ? 
 Iramanuel, God with us; the eternal Son of God, 
 become man, and continued to be both God and 
 man, in two distinct natures, and one person for 
 ever. What is Christ? He is all and in all, and 
 ALL IN ALL to me. I am a lost sinner; Christ is 
 my Saviour. I am destitute, enslaved, and miser- 
 able; Christ is my Redeemer. I am an enemy to, 
 and rebel against God; Christ is the Mediator be- 
 
367 
 
 twcen God and me. I am a bankrupt, infinitely in- 
 debted to God's law and justice; Christ is my Surety, 
 that paid all my debt. I am infinitely guilty before 
 God; Christ is my atoning priest, sacrifice and ran- 
 som. I am ignorant; Christ is my instructing Pro- 
 phet. I am stubborn and rebelHous; Christ is my 
 all-subduing king. I am a lost sheep; Christ is my 
 shepherd. I am destitute; Christ is my friend. 1 
 am forsaken; Christ is my husband. I arh blind 
 and darkened; Christ is my light. I am naked; 
 Christ is my white raiment. I am disobedient; 
 Christ is my righteousness. I am polluted; Christ 
 is my sanctification, — my fountain opened for sin 
 and for uncleanness. I am grieved; Christ is my 
 comfort. I am poor; Christ is my wealth. I am 
 diseased; Christ is my physician. I am dead; 
 Christ is my life. I am dying; Christ is my por- 
 tion for ever. — If I look through my Bible, Christ 
 fills every page. Christ is the end of every genea- 
 logy; the centre of every history; the fulfilment of 
 every law; the substance of every promise; the ex- 
 emplification of every doctrine; and the accomplish- 
 ment of every prophecy. If I look through the 
 creation, I see Christ the maker, Christ the pre- 
 server, Christ the end, Christ the centre and glory 
 of all things. I see thousands of them bright em- 
 blems of my Christ. O my soul, art thou also full 
 of Christ? 
 
 4. Could I exercise myself in the prayer and me- 
 ditation of faith, how much of Christ, God, and 
 grace, might I know and enjoy ! These, like the 
 believing spies, would daily bring me home some of 
 t he fairest and sweetest fruits of heaven. Medita- 
 
368 
 
 tion, as an eye, views our mercies; prayer, as a hand> 
 cuts off and brings them home. Meditation, like a 
 factor, lies abroad, to look out and collect what we 
 want; and prayer, like a ship, goes forth and brings 
 home what we desire. It is my misery, that I can- 
 not here live without wants; but of God's mercy I 
 cannot be so miserable, as not to be supplied. Me- 
 ditation cannot find out a real want, but prayer will 
 bring in an answerable comfort. Meditation cannot 
 perceive a sweetness, fulness, or excellency in Christ, 
 but prayer will make me a partaker of it. If then 
 mercy, if Christ be so full and free, I will never 
 have a want without studying to know it, and never 
 know it, without praying for the supply of it. Nay, 
 I will never rest, till God do more for me than I can 
 either ask or think. 
 
 5. Eagles are said to gaze much on the radiant 
 beams of the sun. Let me, by believing contem- 
 plation, still view the glorious beams of Jesus the 
 Sun of Righteousness, and be conversant about the 
 high and profitable things of eternal salvation. Let 
 me build my nest on the rock of ages, and by the 
 altar, the throne of God. Let me penetrate into 
 every garden of God, and suck honey from every 
 flower of paradise. By such meditation, I can be- 
 hold and converse with God, solace myself in the 
 bosom of my beloved Redeemer, bathe myself in 
 rivers of pleasures, tread the paths of my rest, and 
 view the mansions, thrones, and crowns of my eter- 
 nity. Why then, my soul, shouldst thou nestle in, 
 and pore on this dunghill world, this wilderness of 
 trouble? Get thee up to the mount, and behold 
 Jesus thy king, in his beauty, the glory of his per- 
 
369 
 
 son, the fulness of his righteousness, and the riches 
 of his grace; — and the land of promise that is afar off. 
 Let my thoughts and heart be where my treasure, 
 my expected happiness is. — Though my habitation 
 be on earth, let my conversation be in heaven, whence 
 I look for my Saviour. 
 
 6. What art thou, O my soul? A spiritual 
 essence, an incorporeal substance, the very breath of 
 God, and an epitome of heaven. What satisfies 
 thee, O my immortal soul ? Nothing but the im- 
 mortal, the infinite, the redeeming God, in whom all 
 fulness dwells, and who fills heaven and earth.— 
 Creatures, being all insufficient, may fill thee with 
 vexation, but the all-sufficient God alone can fill thee 
 with contentment. Lord, as no action of mine can 
 please thee without myself, so no creature of thine 
 can satisfy me without thyself. Take therefore my 
 heart, and give me thyself. My very heart and 
 flesh cry out for God, the living God. 
 
 7. What, my soul, dost thou want? What ex- 
 cellency or advantage dost thou wish ? Is it beauty ? 
 Christ is fairer than the sons of men, white and 
 ruddy, the chief among ten thousand, — altogether 
 lovely; for how great is his beauty! And in him 
 the righteous shall shine forth as the sun in the 
 kingdom of heaven, and the wise as the brightness 
 of the firmament for ever and ever. — Is it wealth? 
 Christ is rich in mercy ; he is the riches of the glory 
 of the gospel; and with him are durable riches and 
 i-ighteousness. " We know the grace of our Lord 
 Jesus, that though he was rich, yet for our sakes he 
 became poor, that we, through his poverty, might be 
 made rich." Wealth and riches are in his house. 
 
 Q3 
 
370 
 
 Every child in his family shall have a rich, a glo- 
 rious, an incorruptible, and eternal inheritance among 
 his saints. God is their portion for ever. — Is it 
 honour? Jesus and his work are honourable and 
 glorious. He is Jehovah's king of glory, the God- 
 man, whom he delighteth to honour. And what 
 an honour to be a spouse of Christ and favourite of 
 God, — and to wear crowns of righteousness, life, 
 and glory — a far more exceeding and eternal weight 
 of glory? — Is it pleasure? Christ is fair, yea, 
 pleasant; God's Son, his Elect, in whom his soul 
 delighteth. " In his presence there is fulness of 
 joy, and at his right hand are pleasures for ever- 
 more." The righteous shall enter into the joy of 
 their Lord. — Wouldst thou have a confluence of 
 all the glorious things in heaven and on earth ? 
 Christ is all and in all. In him dwells all the 
 fulness of the new covenant — all the fulness of the 
 Godhead bodily; in him godliness hath the promises 
 of this life, and of that which is to come. Let me 
 then first seek the kingdom of God and his right- 
 eousness, and all the excellencies of heaven and 
 earth shall be added unto me. Lord, let me be 
 righteous and holy in Christ, and then I shall soon 
 be happy in and with him. 
 
 8. Wise agents fix their ends before they begin 
 their work, and then direct their actions to that end, 
 which they proposed. Mariners launch, that they 
 may arrive at the distant port, and direct their course 
 accordingly. Christians should always have one eye 
 on their end, and the other on their way. A man 
 lives like a brute, that knows not what he lives for; 
 and he acts like a fool, who aims at heaven, and 
 
371 
 
 lives at random. A wise Christian aims at so Jiv- 
 ing as he may live for ever, and therefore labours to 
 spend his life in walking in those paths in which he 
 sees heaven before him. Dost thou, my soul, aim 
 at the full and everlasting enjoyment of God in 
 Christ? Be then, even while present in this body, 
 alway looking to Jesus, alvvay drawing near to God, 
 alway holding fellowship with the Father, and with 
 his Son Jesus Christ; so shalt thou quickly be 
 where he is, see him as he is, and come near unto 
 him, even to his seat. 
 
 9. How many envy rich worldlings for what they 
 have ! Let me rather pity them for what they 
 want. He hath a talent, but it wants improve- 
 ment; he hath a lamp, but it wants oil; he hath a 
 soul, but it wants grace; he hath a star, but he 
 wants the sun; he hath the creature, but he wants 
 the Creator. In his life he floats upon a torrent of 
 vanity, which runs out into an ocean of vexation of 
 spirit. In his death he enters into utter darkness, 
 and hath his soul set a-drift for ever in an impetu- 
 ous lake of fire and brimstone. No silver can 
 anchor him; no gold can land him; and no friends 
 can comfort him. Lord, rather give me misery, 
 than such happiness as ends so ill. Give me Christ 
 and his grace, and what thou pleasest beside. 
 Rather make me poor with a renewed heart, and a 
 holy life, than rich with a bad conscience. 
 
 10. I am frail, and this world is fading; but my 
 soul is immortal, and God is eternal. If I pitch on 
 creatures for my portion, either they will soon take 
 wings and fly away to accuse me to God for misira- 
 proving them, or my soul must take its flight from 
 
372 
 
 them, and go to hell. But if I choose God in 
 Christ for my portion, goodness and mercy shall 
 follow me all the days of my life, and everlasting 
 glory shall crown me when I die. Let me, there- 
 fore, now leave that which I shall soon lose; and by 
 faith embrace and follow after that which I shall for 
 ever enjoy. And if wicked men have their heaven 
 here, and their hell hereafter, — and good men have 
 their hell here, and heaven hereafter, let me never 
 envy the prosperity of the wicked, nor be offended 
 at the affliction of the righteous, seeing the one is 
 drawn in pomp to hell, while the other swims in 
 tears to heaven. 
 
 11. There is a sad mirth and a joyful mourning. 
 Behold the voluptuous man ; laughter appears in his 
 face, but sadness centres in his heart; his carnal 
 delights are not only vain, but vexing. While the 
 banquet lasts, he sings; but when the reckoning 
 comes, his spirit sinks ; his candle goes out in a 
 stinking snuff, and his shining sun sets in a watery 
 cloud. Thus, " even in laughter the heart is sor- 
 rowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness.'* 
 But the tears of the true penitent are the joy of 
 angels, the comfort of the weeper, and a spring-well 
 of lasting, nay, everlasting consolation. To mourn 
 for sin, is to weep for joy. Why then do wicked 
 men think or speak, as if grace and holiness were 
 the tomb of joy and pleasure, and impiety the womb 
 to bring forth felicity. My soul hath felt both; and 
 I find such damps of spirit in worldly pleasures, and 
 such refreshing of soul in the deep of godly sorrow, 
 that I shall ever esteem one drop of stuch spiritual joy 
 better than an ocean of their carnal mirth. Not- 
 
373 
 
 withstanding my jovial temper, I never knew what 
 true joy and pleasure were, till I found them in fel- 
 lowship with Jesus Christ. 
 
 12. My soul, where lies thy happiness? If thou 
 place it in any creature, — if, with Judas, thou canst 
 be content to keep the bag, or with Reuben, to 
 dwell on this side Jordan; — if thou canst be put off 
 with a breath of honour, a blaze of pleasure, a snare 
 of wealth, or a parcel of vanity, take thy fill, and 
 look for no more from God. Thou seest thy por- 
 tion, thine all; take it, and go thy way. But when 
 the breath is expired, the blaze extinct, and thou 
 art for ever insnared, what an eternity must thou 
 spend in bewailing thy folly? But if I place my 
 happiness in the highest excellency, — in Jesus and 
 Jehovah, as given and secured to me in the new 
 covenant, " this God shall be my God for ever, 
 and my guide even unto death; when my heart and 
 my flesh fail, God shall be the strength of my heart, 
 and my portion for ever." Since I am made cap- 
 able of such heavenly excellencies, let me never be 
 put off with transitory vanities. Let my happiness 
 lie in God himself ; and let me take whatever I en- 
 joy beside myself, as a blessing, but not as a por- 
 tion. 
 
 13. Unsatiable desires in temporals make a man 
 poor in spirituals. A Christian is only rich in out- 
 ward things, when he is content with what he hath. 
 — that man hath nothing of heavenly things, that 
 does not thirst after more. Worldly desires alway 
 leaves us empty. Either we get not that which we 
 covet, or we are not satisfied with it; but he that 
 thirsteth after heavenly things, is always filled, and 
 
374 
 
 the more lie receives, the more he desires. Be- 
 lieving desires fetch in the richest and choicest 
 mercies that God can give. Why then do we not 
 turn all our affections and desires toward heavenly 
 objects ? How many excellent mercies he aground 
 for want of a tide of such desires to bring them in ? 
 Why then should I beggar myself by thirsting after 
 creatures, when I might soon become rich, by desir- 
 ing Christ and his grace ? 
 
 14. When a rich worldling dies, alas ! his sleep 
 is ended, and his dream lost. Awaking in eternity, 
 he hath nothing in his hand. His golden heap is 
 gone; but the rust of it attends to witness against 
 him. His mammon fails him; but the unrighteous- 
 ness of it follows him. Others have now the use of 
 it, but he carries the abuse of it to the tribunal of 
 God, and to hell in his conscience. He hath en- 
 riched his friends, but he hath undone himself. — 
 Every bag, every house, every ridge, he left behind, 
 is the price of his blood, his soul's damnation. Let 
 me never treasure up the price of blood. If Christ 
 hath made me his steward, let me give what I have, 
 and need not, to his poor members that need, and 
 have not. So transitory creatures, when they shde 
 away, shall not carry me with them; but when I go 
 away, I shall carry them with me. 
 
 15. Lord, what a miserable creature is a wicked 
 man ! His very mercies make him miserable. 
 Though his estate be large, either he hath not the 
 benefit of enjoying, but the danger of keeping it; 
 or, if he enjoy it, he so miserably abuseth it, as that 
 his temporal use of it issueth in his eternal punish- 
 ment. The pleasures of it are quickly gone; but 
 
375 
 
 the pain of it torments him for ever. Let me 
 therefore have Christ and his new covenant mercies, 
 and grace to improve temporal mercies, so as they 
 may not enhance my misery. 
 
 16. If I would know whether my name be writ- 
 ten in God's book of hfe, let me search what is 
 written in my heart. If his word in the faith, 
 power, and authority of it, be written in my con- 
 science and heart, my name is enrolled in his book 
 of election. But if nothing be now written in my 
 conscience, but black lines of sins, I shall find no- 
 thing in God's book of judgment, but red lines of 
 damnation. At the last day, when all books shall 
 be opened, I will find either the sweetest or the 
 sharpest lines in my own conscience. Having it 
 therefore purged from dead works by Jesus' blood, 
 let me labour to write in it such things as I may not 
 be ashamed to read hereafter. 
 
 17, My soul, be not curious to search into the 
 secrets of God. Pick not the lock, where he hath 
 allowed no key. He that will view every cloud, 
 may be smitten with a thunderbolt ! and he that will 
 be too familiar with God's secrets, may be over- 
 whelmed in his judgments. By curious increase of 
 his knowledge, Adam lost his holiness and happiness. 
 By pi'ying into the ark of God, fifty thousand of the 
 Bethlehemites lost their lives. Let me never hover 
 about this flame, lest it scorch my wings. — But, 
 since God hath revealed to me as much as can avail 
 to my sanctification and happiness, let me carefully 
 improve myself by it, and never inquire into any 
 thing which he hath reserved for himself. Till I 
 have fully learned Christ, let me never waste my 
 time on curiosities. 
 
376 
 
 18. Nothing is more certain than death as to the 
 event, and nothing more uncertain than the time of 
 it. I may be too old to live, but can never be too 
 young to die. I will therefore live every hour as if 
 I were to die the next. And as the tree falls, so 
 it must for ever lie. While death strikes down, 
 God fixeth a man in eternal happiness or misery. 
 If I enter this red sea an Israelite indeed, I shall 
 have a safe landing in heaven, and be for ever com- 
 passed about with songs of deliverance. But if I 
 enter it an uncovenanted Egyptian, I must sink like 
 lead into the depths of hell. If I fall into this sleep 
 with the oil of grace in my heart, I shall go in with 
 Jesus the bridegroom. But if I lie down without 
 grace, the gates of mercy will be shut against me for 
 ever. This life is the time I must go forth to meet 
 the Lord, and the hour in which I must work. In 
 the other, I must be judged and rewarded according 
 to my works. As I know not how soon I must fall 
 asleep, let my care be, to be in Christ, and to live 
 every day in God's sight, as I wish to appear in the 
 last judgment. A double eternity hangs on our 
 death. 
 
 19. Mariners are said to sail within four inches 
 of death. Souls always dwell within four inches of 
 eternity. If the ship splits, the sailor sinks. If 
 our body burst in death, our soul plunges into a bot- 
 tomless and bankless eternity. Alas ! that so many 
 should preposterously launch, before they know 
 whether they shall sink or swim ! It was a sad 
 speech of a dying king, " That he was forced to 
 die, before he had begun to live." Alas ! how 
 many men have their whole work for eternity to do. 
 
377 
 
 when their hour of death is come ? — their weapons 
 to look for, when the enemy is in the gate ? — their 
 grace to seek, when death is at the door ? — their oil 
 to buy, when the bridegroom is come ? — the city of 
 refuge to begin thinking of, when the avenger of 
 blood is upon them ? — the seven years of plenty 
 wasted, and nothing laid up for eternity ? Let my 
 first care be, to be in Christ and his covenant; and 
 let me by his grace finish all my work, that at last I 
 may have nothing to do but die. 
 
 20. Our world is now become so impudent in 
 wickedness, that it is reckoned most shameful to be 
 either afraid or ashamed of sin. But let me rather 
 be the world's fool, than God's enemy. If Christ 
 suffered both shame and torment for my sin, let me 
 be ashamed and confounded for all that I have done, 
 and loathe myself before God and men for all my 
 iniquities and all my abominations. Must I be 
 wicked if I be great? or, must I be undone, if I be 
 good? 
 
 21. Worldlings are apjt to mock at a Christian, 
 who is melted by God's word, and trembles at a sin. 
 But, how noble his courage! He can triumph in 
 death and judgment, and over hell and the grave. 
 As more than a conqueror in Christ, he can leave 
 the world with a smile, " O death ! where is thy 
 sting? Ohell! where is thy victory?" But world- 
 ling, though thou canst silence conscience and out- 
 face sin, how base a coward art thou ! If trouble 
 or death prey on thy vitals, or perhaps, but shake 
 their hand at thee, what heaviness clouds thy looks? 
 what terrors shake thy joints ? What sadness sinks 
 thy heart ? A fancy frights thee; a shadow startles 
 
378 
 
 thee. Nabal-like thy spirits die and sink within 
 thee like a stone. Let me rather fear when God 
 threatens, than fall when he judgeth. Let me be 
 bold in Christ, but never bold in sin. 
 
 22. The nearer the moon draws unto her con- 
 junction with the sun, the brighter she shines to- 
 ward heaven, and the more darkly toward the earth. 
 — The nearer a Christian lives to Christ, he is the 
 coraelier in the eyes of God, angels, and good men; 
 but the more unlovely to a wicked world. He that 
 is a precious and tender saint in God's account, will 
 be a precise puritan or whimsical fanatic in the 
 world's. How sad a sign, that thou art an Egyp- 
 tian, when that cloud which is light to an Israelite 
 is darkness to thee? — that thou art earthly, sensual, 
 devilish, when thou seest no lustre in such celestial 
 delights? Lord, if I shine to thee, I care not how 
 dark I show to the world. Let me never be fair 
 without, and an Ethiopian within. 
 
 23. It doth not now appear to the world what 
 we Christians are, nor to ourselves what we shall be. 
 For, did they know that we are the Jewels of God, 
 the excellency of the creation, the beloved of Christ, 
 they would not mock and persecute us as they do» 
 Or if we but knew that we shall be glorified together 
 with Christ, having his happiness as our happiness, 
 his joy as our joy, his glories as our glories, we would 
 not live so dejected as we do. When I consider, 
 that my life is hid with Christ in God, I do not 
 wonder that the world hates me; but when I con- 
 sider, that Christ is my husband, my righteousness, 
 my strength, my friend, my peace, my comfort, my 
 ALL IN ALL, and that when he shall appear, I shall 
 
379 
 
 appear with and like him in glory, I wonder that I 
 am so much troubled with it. 
 
 24. Why should I fret myself at the prosperity 
 of the wicked? Indeed, when I looked upon the 
 spreading bay-tree, and forgot the withering blast, 
 or viewed their delicious quails, and forgot their 
 poisoning curse, my feet had almost slipt. But 
 since I went into the sanctuary of God, and by faith 
 searched his word, I find that all their glorious 
 blossoms must soon fade under the blasts of his 
 wrath, and that all their external felicity doth but 
 perfect his judgments, and ripen them for larger 
 measures of eternal torment. Their pleasure but 
 deceitfully salutes them, while it stabs them under 
 the fifth rib. Their honour, like Absalom's mule, 
 only mounts and carries them to their gallows. Their 
 riches, like JaePs present in a lordly dish, makes 
 way for the fatal nail, a sad account to God, and a 
 dreadful eternity. They flourish, that they may be 
 destroyed for ever. They have a fat and large 
 pasture, that they may be soon fitted for the slaughter. 
 Thus their prosperity slays them. The fair day in 
 which they ride to their execution, doth but add to 
 their misery and shame. — If I therefore see a man 
 prosper in his wickedness, let me not envy, but pity 
 him. My united Christ, my possessed, my infallibly 
 secured everlasting glory, renders me infinitely more 
 happy than he, with all his abundance. 
 
 25. It is heaven to be for ever with the Lord 
 Christ; and it is hell to be for ever without him. 
 You that see no beauty in Christ, nor glory in 
 heaven, do you likewise see no flames in hell, or 
 hurt in the loss of God? You that cannot be taken 
 
380 
 
 with his presence, O tremble at his absence. If 
 you care not to be with him, fear to be for ever 
 without him. By your " Depart from us," you make 
 your hell on earth. And by his " Depart from me," 
 he will make your hell when you leave this earth. 
 Lord Jesus, thou art my heaven, my happiness, my 
 God, and my portion for ever. So unite and bind 
 me to thyself, that I may be forever with thee. 
 
 26. The good of riches lies altogether in their 
 use. If this box of ointment be not broken and 
 poured out for the refreshment of Jesus Christ in 
 his distressed members, it loseth its worth. The 
 true motto of a covetous man's rusting heaps of 
 gold, is. Good for nothing. He is not rich that lays 
 up much, but that lays out much. It is all one not 
 to have, and not to use. Having therefore Christ 
 and all the fulness of God for my treasure, let me 
 labour to become rich by charitable laying out for 
 him, while worldlings become poor by covetous 
 hoarding up. — Their wealth, like apples of Sodom, 
 perishes at the touch. 
 
 27. Who will willingly part with his God ? I 
 will rather part with my life than with my God. 
 No marvel then, that the covetous man so holds and 
 hugs his gold. It is his god. And if he lose it, 
 what hath he more? His heaven, his happiness, 
 his all is gone. Let me not therefore wonder at 
 the closeness of his hand in keeping the god which 
 he hath chosen, but at the mad folly of his heart in 
 choosing a god which he cannot keep. And thou, 
 ray infinite all, keep thou me for ever, that I may 
 keep thee, hold thee, and never let thee go. 
 
 28. O my soul ! thine essence being spiritual, thy 
 
381 
 
 desires immense, and thy nature immortal, thou canst 
 enjoy no full content, no real satisfaction, unless in 
 that which is a spiritual, unbounded, and everlasting 
 good. Were therefore the whole world turned into 
 a pleasant Eden, refreshed with living waters of im- 
 mortality, and thou seated in the throne of its 
 choicest excellencies, and crowned with its highest 
 felicities, having the whole material creation as thy 
 property and subjects, and thy revenues flowing in 
 from every airth, how could a material world suit an 
 immaterial soul? How could a soul be satisfied 
 with dust? Could Satan extract the spirits and 
 quintessence of all the excellencies under heaven, 
 yet there would be more lees than wine, more thorns 
 than flowers, more smoke than fire, more sting than 
 honey. What whirlwind of vexation then should 
 fill that soul which should attempt to be satisfied 
 "with such scanty, such mingled perfection ? Nay, 
 suppose they could constitute unbounded perfection, 
 what could it avail without perpetual duration? 
 They fly away like a bird, and melt hke ice before 
 the sun, and so leave the immortal soul restless and 
 miserable, to sink for ever. Let me then never 
 attempt to rest but in a redeeming, a reconciled 
 God, who is the Father of Spirits, the fountain of 
 life, the infinite good, the everlasting all. He alone 
 is an adequate object for my immortal souL The 
 rest of the creatures is in their end; and the end of 
 a soul is its God. Therefore, Lord, since thou 
 hast made, hast redeemed me, for thyself, fill me 
 fully with thyself, or take me wholly to thyself. 
 
 29. How vain this world ! If Satan tempt thee 
 by its pleasures, profits, or honours, my soul, stand 
 
382 
 
 upon thy guard, and gird on thy strength. Think, 
 what can the world profit me, if its cares choke me? 
 How can pleasures comfort me, if their sting poison, 
 torment, and kill me ? What advancement is there 
 in triumphing before men here, and trembling for 
 shame before the throne of God hereafter? What 
 are all earthly delights to the peace of my conscience 
 through Jesus' blood, or that joy in the Holy Ghost? 
 What are the applauses of men to the praise of God, 
 and the crown prepared by him? What is the gain 
 of a whole world to the loss of my soul? Having 
 therefore received the Lord Jesus, let me press 
 toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of 
 God in him; and seek for the pleasures, profits, and 
 honours, which endure for ever. 
 
 30. Black clouds make travellers mend their pace, 
 and mind their home; whereas fair days and a plea- 
 sant way waste their time, and steal away their affec- 
 tions in the prospect of the country. It is my mercy, 
 that clouds of adversity often hide my sun, and 
 eclipse my comforts. If I should find too much 
 friendship in my inn in my pilgrimage, I would soon 
 forget my Father's house, and my heritage. Let 
 me always travel in Christ as my way, and in order 
 to know and enjoy myself and my God. 
 
 31. Multitudes will praise and adore the saints 
 in heaven, and yet mock and afHict the saints on 
 earth. They persecute their persons, and garnish 
 their sepulchres; embalm dead saints, and wound 
 living ones; praise God for those that are departed 
 in the faith, and yet persecute God in those that 
 will not depart from the faith. Ah, foolish world ! 
 must thou condemn thyself; for thy praise leaves thy 
 
383 
 
 practice without excuse. Let me love all saints for 
 Christ's sake, in hopes that I shall live with them 
 for ever. 
 
 32. Alexander being asked where he would lay 
 his treasure; answered, among his friends; being 
 confident, that there it would be kept with safety, 
 and returned with interest. My soul, since Jesus, 
 hoping for nothing again, hath bestowed on me, his 
 €nemy, his infinite treasures of eternal salvation, let 
 not me enlarge my barns, but make the friends, the 
 pupils of Christ, my treasury; let the hands of the 
 widow and fatherless, and the bowels of the poor be 
 my storehouse. Here it is sure; no thief can steal 
 it, no time can rust it, no change can lose it: here 
 a temporal gift is turned into an eternal reward. 
 No ground is so fruitful as the bosom of the poor, 
 which bringeth forth an hundred fold. 
 
 33. O ray soul ! why dost thou grovel on this 
 earth? Every thing here is too base for thine ex- 
 cellency, too scanty for thy capacity, too transient 
 for thine eternity. Thou are capable of enjoying 
 God, and must have a being when these creatures 
 shall be no more. They are all too base metal to 
 make a crown of glory for thee, and too rotten a 
 bottom to carry thee through eternity. Fill there- 
 fore thyself with Christ, and with all the fulness of 
 God in him; so shalt thou raise thy dignity to an 
 endless perpetuity. 
 
 34. Where any thing presents itself to be done, 
 let me think. If Christ were now on earth, would he 
 do it ? Or, if I were now to die, would I do it ? 
 Constrained by his love, and enabled by his grace, I 
 must walk as he hath walked, and live as I intend 
 
384 
 
 to die. If it be not Christ's will, it is my sin; and 
 if I die in that sin, it will be my ruin. Let me 
 therefore, in every action, carry myself, as if Christ 
 were on my one hand, and death on the other. 
 
 35. Our life is but a moment of time, and yet in 
 it we sow the seeds of eternity. In this hour, I 
 frame to myself either a good or a bad eternity. 
 The thoughts that I now think, the words that I 
 speak, and the works that I act, though they seem 
 to rot, and be no more, shall spring up to eternity. 
 According to our present carriage, our character and 
 condition must rise or fall for ever. O what need 
 of exactness, when every thing we do is to be marked 
 in the records of eternity, and every line we draw 
 must run parallel with eternity; and as we carry our- 
 selves now, we must die or live for ever. — Lord 
 Jesus, betroth me to thyself for ever; instate me in 
 thy well-ordered, infallible, and everlasting covenant; 
 clothe me with thine everlasting righteousness; save 
 me in thyself with an everlasting salvation; so shall 
 I, by thy grace, improve the shortness of my life, so 
 as to turn this moment of misery into an eternity of 
 blessedness. 
 
 36. The soul of man is the horizon of time and 
 eternity. If the Sun of Righteousness be not risen 
 in our horizon, what can we expect, but a clouded 
 .time, and a stormy eternity,— -gross darkness here, 
 and utter darkness hereafter? But if his oriental 
 splendour be shed abroad into us, what celestial ex- 
 cellencies ! what reviving comforts ! what advancing 
 principles are darted from his glorious countenance 
 into our hearts! And in heaven, where he is in 
 his full meridian in every soul, what full beams of 
 
385 
 
 bliss and consolation, without the least shadow of 
 bitterness and discontent, warm and delight them 
 for ever? Lord Jesus, lift up the light of thy 
 countenance on me, so shall time be the morning, 
 and eternity the noontide of glory in my soul. 
 
 37. This world hath many servants, because it 
 gives fair words and present wages: Christ hath but 
 few disciples, because their reward is in the future 
 life. Most live by sight, and therefore had rather, 
 with Ishraael, be sent away with a small gift; take 
 their portion in this life, than, with Isaac, wait for 
 the inheritance reserved in the heavens. — They 
 must have present pleasure, and wealth, or honour; 
 and therefore, with Esau, sell their birth-right for 
 one morsel of meat; and, with Lysimachus, lose their 
 kingdom and themselves, for a draught of water. 
 Few, like Moses, can despise the treasures of this 
 present world, from respect to the recompence of 
 future reward, or, like the disciples, leave a posses- 
 sion to live upon a promise. Lord, let me not have 
 my portion in this life; but enable me to live by 
 faith in thy word, — in thy Son, who loved me, and 
 gave himself for me, — that in due time I may receive 
 my inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that 
 fadeth not away. 
 
 38. What rebel against an earthly sovereign, 
 under proclamation of mercy, stands out, when he 
 knows he shall be fetched in by the hand of justice? 
 But how many refractory sinners deride Christ's 
 offers of mercy, and his messengers of peace, till 
 they be slain by his vengeance! You madmen, 
 have you counsel, wisdom, and strength for the 
 battle? Can your heart endure, and your hands be 
 
 R 35 
 
386 
 
 strong in the day that God shall deal with you? 
 Can the gods whom you serve deliver you out of 
 his hand? No. You must one day be brought under 
 his regal power, either in favour or fury, either to 
 the praise of his glorious grace, or to the magnifying 
 of his justice. If you hate his throne, you must be 
 made his footstool. If you will not have him for 
 your head, you must be trodden under his feet. If 
 he be not your Saviour, he must be your angry 
 Judge. If you will not touch the golden sceptre of 
 his mercy, you must be crushed by the heavy rod of 
 his wrath. Now his flag of mercy is displayed, and 
 his taper of peace burns. But who knows how soon 
 that flag may be folded up, and that taper extin- 
 guished ? And then as for those his enemies that 
 would not that he should reign over them, they 
 must be brought and slain before his face. Oh ! 
 now send out thy ambassadors of humble prayers to 
 meet him. Acquaint thyself now with God, and 
 be at peace. Better come in as a favourite, than 
 be dragged in as a traitor. 
 
 39. Sin and sorrow are two inseparable com- 
 panions. If I let in the one, I cannot shut out the 
 other. If my moments be spent in mirth,^ ray eter- 
 nity must be spent in mourning. If I shall not 
 weep while I have mercy to pardon me, I must la- 
 ment for ever, without having an eye to pity me. 
 A bottle of tears sprung from Jesus' blood and grace, 
 may now quench a fire of sin; but an ocean of tears 
 shall never quench the flames of hell. Therefore, 
 while the wicked go on laughing, let me walk mourn- 
 fully with my God. He that swims in sin, must 
 sink in sorrow; and he that sows in tears shall reap 
 
387 
 
 in joy. Let me now weep after a godly sort, that 
 I may not weep, but sing for ever. 
 
 40. Whatever way the tree inclines while it 
 grows, that way it falls when cut down, and there it 
 lieth. As we are in life, so for the most part we 
 are in death, and so we lie to eternity; whether it 
 be toward heaven, or toward hell. An error in -war 
 is death; but an error in death is damnation. Let 
 me therefore live as I wish to die, and die as I wish 
 to live for ever. Lord Jesus, let the bent of my 
 soul be toward thee, that so I may fall to thee, and 
 ever rest in and with thee. 
 
 4L After running through many a pleasant 
 meadow, and along many a shady grove and flowery 
 bank, Jordan empties itself into the Dead Sea of 
 Sodom, where its waters lose both their name and 
 their worth. So it is with wicked men. Here they 
 often walk through meadows of worldly pleasures, 
 and rest under the shades of earthly comforts and 
 sports, and wallow amongst the flowers of worldly 
 delights, but at last they are cast into hell among 
 them that forget God; and their very happiness is 
 turned into part of hell; their beauty into horror; 
 their honour into shame; their lusts into tormenting 
 devils; their pleasures into bitterness; their scarlets 
 into flames of fire and brimstone. — Lord Jesus, by 
 thy blood. Spirit and grace, make me a pure stream, 
 that may end in heaven. I care not what a rough 
 or gloomy passage I have, if but there I lose my 
 weakness and sinful corruption, for likeness and 
 nearness to thyself. 
 
 42. What is a day to an age? or an age to eter- 
 nity? The shortest day is a part of the longest 
 R2 
 
388 
 
 time, but the longest time is no part of eternity. 
 Why then do we foolishly heap up goods for mor- 
 tality, lay up riches which at best are not for many 
 years, perhaps not for many hours, and yet provide 
 nothing for eternity? Why do we so carefully 
 humour and uphold a mouldering piece of clay, a 
 frail and dying body, which cannot stand above an 
 age, perhaps not above an hour, and neglect our souls 
 that must endure for ever? Since we all aim at a 
 prosperous life, let us, by receiving the Lord Jesus, 
 and walking in him, labour for a glorious eternity. 
 
 43. All men would have happiness for their end; 
 but few men will have Christ for their way, and ho- 
 liness for their preparation for it. All would have 
 the kingdom of heaven, and the supposed ease and 
 glory of it; but few seek it, and the righteousness 
 of it. Most men would live with Balaam, and die 
 with Israel; live with the graceless, and die with the 
 godly. But none shall go to God in death, but 
 such as draw near to him in life. Unless the king- 
 dom of God be first in us on earth, we shall never 
 enter into the kingdom of God in heaven. None 
 shall rest in heaven hereafter, but such as have their 
 conversation in heaven here. None shall enter into 
 the gates of felicity, but such as tread the narrow 
 path of piety. Lord, make me holy, as well as 
 happy, that I may love to glorify thee, as well as to 
 be glorified by thee. 
 
 44. There be too many to-morrow Christians, 
 who set their days of repentance with God, as if they 
 had the lordship of time and the monopoly of grace, 
 which are only at his disposal. God hath promised 
 pardon to the penitent; but he hath never promised 
 
389 
 
 a to-morrow to the negligent. If I put off God 
 to-day, he may put me off to-morrow. If I mis- 
 improve one hour of grace, he may never give me 
 another. If I put by his hand of mercy to-day, his 
 hand of justice may apprehend me before to-morrow. 
 When 1 would repent, I may not have time, or when 
 I would have mercy, I may not find repentance. — 
 Lord Jesus, since thou hast given me this hour of 
 grace to repent in, give me grace in this hour to 
 repent with. Not only admit me when I come to 
 thee, but draw me, when I have neither will nor 
 power to come of my own. 
 
 45. Lord, what a shadow, a nothing, is the life 
 of man! The time past is as a told tale, a finished 
 dream, or a bird flown from the owner out of sight. 
 The time present is a vanishing day, a galloping 
 hour, or flying minute. The time to come is alto- 
 gether uncertain of being enjoyed. The evening 
 sun may see us dead. Lord Jesus, in this hour, 
 make me sure of thee as made of God to me wisdom, 
 righteousness, sanctification, and redemption; for in 
 the next I am not sure of myself. 
 
 46. Alexander, after dividing his wealth among 
 his friends, said, that he had reserved hope for him- 
 self. Alas ! how few Christians can part with all 
 for Christ, and live by faith. They cannot think 
 of losing what they have here, in hopes to find it 
 again in heaven. Crates, in his way to philosophy, 
 threw his goods into the sea, saying. That he had 
 rather drown them, than that they should drown 
 him: for he thought riches and virtue incompatible. 
 But how many professed Christians, in their way to 
 Jesus Christ, throw away themselves and their souls 
 
390 
 
 to save their gold ! Rather than cast their bread 
 upon the waters, they will throw themselves into the 
 ocean. By siicli things we may know their true 
 master. He hath no part in Christ, that will not 
 part with all for Christ. He lives but a life of sense, 
 that cannot form a living out of a promise. Lord 
 Jesus, thou art my portion and reward, sufficient for 
 me to live on for ever; therefore take freely of my 
 earthly things whatever thou hast any use for, to 
 promote piety or supply poverty. 
 
 47. Rich men have for their treasure, bundles of 
 rights, chests of plate, bags of gold, and cabinet of 
 jewels; but, alas! when they go abroad, they cannot 
 carry it along without burden, or leave it behind with- 
 out fear. How much happier is a child of God, 
 that hath his treasure always in him; and though it 
 comprehends all the fulness of God, he carries it 
 alway about with him. Let him be afflicted or per- 
 secuted as he will, he cannot lose his new covenant 
 promises, or his possession of Christ, and of God in 
 him. You may sooner rend his soul from his body, 
 than rend his treasure from his soul. Let him lose 
 his wealth, his city, his country, or even his life, he 
 will still carry his all with him. Lord Jesus, let 
 me have thee, and thy Father, and blessed Spirit 
 remarkably enjoyed, and strip me of all other things 
 when thou pleasest. 
 
 ■iS. Old Testament days were but like winter, 
 dark and cloudy, sharp and stormy; and yet how 
 many then travelled cheerfully to heaven I But 
 gospel times, like summer days, are light, clear, 
 sweet, and warm, full of beams of grace and mercy; 
 and yet how slowly and sadly do many of us go to 
 
391 
 
 heaven ! Nay, how fearfully we waste these pre- 
 cious days, and neglect these golden opportunities ! 
 O! when shall that soul find time to repent, that is 
 hardened in these melting times ! What days shall 
 that soul find to go to heaven, that shall idle away 
 these gospel-days ! How shall that man find par- 
 doning grace, that sinneth away such seasons of 
 grace! To whom shall that soul appeal who re- 
 nounceth Jesus Christ! How dreadful, his case 
 upon whom the shadows of his deathful evening are 
 stretched out, hefore he set forth for heaven ! But 
 how much more dreadful his case, to whom his clear 
 and sweet days of gospel-light do only make hell the 
 blacker and sadder! We that have clear shining 
 of gospel-light, sweet invitations of divine mercy, 
 and large manifestations of redeeming love, must 
 either go to heaven on the easiest, or to hell on the 
 hardest terms. 
 
 49. Listen, O my soul, serious hints are addressed 
 to me from every airth. Yonder dying men breathe 
 into my ear these important groans: ' Oh! lose not 
 a moment of time; for thy whole time is but a mo- 
 ment. Oh! now make sure of heaven; for thou 
 knowest not how soon thou must leave this earth !' — 
 Hark ! how yonder damned men address thee in the 
 most lamentable roarings: ' Oh! come and see the 
 end of sin in our everlasting torments ! Come, 
 learn the value of time in us, that must for ever 
 suffer for our misimprovement of it !' Nay, let me 
 listen to thy own words, thy own expostulations: 
 * My body, must I, who live for ever, satisfy thy 
 filthy, thy beastly lusts ! When thou art wrapt up 
 in rottenness, where shall I spend my begun eter- 
 
39^ 
 
 nity? Must I lose the possession of heaven, the 
 fellowship of angels, and the everlasting enjoyment 
 of God, in order to indulge thy base appetites! Is 
 it not better that I should carry thee to heaven, 
 than that thou shouldst carry me to hell?' — But 
 hear, my Saviour speaks : ' Behold I stand at the 
 door, and knock, till my head is filled with dew, and 
 my locks with the drops of the night. Here I 
 stand weeping, knocking, begging, and waiting. 
 Open, open unto me. Let not sin lodge in thy 
 heart, and Christ wait at the door; let not damna- 
 tion rule within, and salvation stand without.' The 
 times I live in address me : * Oh ! now be a living 
 Christian, for these are dying deathful days. Oh ! 
 now be a groaning, growing Christian ; for these are 
 backsliding times. Oh ! now make Jesus Christ 
 and his salvation thine; for here thou knowest not 
 what is thine own.' In fine, I hear the voice of the 
 archangel summoning the dead to come forth to 
 judgment. ' Arise, you holy and blessed believers, 
 to take your place at Christ's right hand, and be 
 finally adjudged to everlasting life. Arise, ye 
 cursed sinners, to public shame and contempt, and 
 to receive the final sentence of your eternal damna- 
 tion.' Lord, grant an obedient ear, and a serious . 
 heart, to hear the first voices with fear and trem- 
 bling, that I may hear the last without fear. 
 
 50. In a choice, it is common to leave when we 
 take. The soul that chooseth life and grace, re- 
 fuseth all things else. Lord, let vain men follow 
 fashions, but clothe thou me with salvation, and 
 cover me with the robes of righteousness; let them 
 be all-glorious without, but let me be all-glorious 
 
393 
 
 within ; let them crown themselves with rose-buds, 
 but crown thou me with twelve stars; let them have 
 all the sweetness, beauties, glories, and excellencies 
 of the earth, but let Jesus Christ be my portion. 
 All other things are nothing at all, where Christ 
 is all in all. Therefore be serious, O my soul; for 
 thou hast none of Christ, till thou canst truly say, 
 None but Christ. 
 
 51. The shortness of their life, the extent and 
 difficulty of their work, and the eternity of their 
 end, should make the heart of every Christian to 
 tremble. Our life is but a withering flower, a flying 
 cloud, a vanishing shadow, a perishing breath. The 
 night of death instantly cometh, in which no man 
 can work. And yet, in this short inch of time, 
 what work is to be done? What strong enemies 
 to be conquered? What principalities and powers 
 to be routed? What beloved lusts to be subdued, 
 right hands to be cut off, and right eyes to be 
 plucked out? What strict rules to be followed, 
 a strait gate, and a narrow way, to go through ? 
 What a long race to be run with a short breath, 
 and a great way to be gone by a setting sun ? And 
 what are we to expect when this taper is out, this 
 breath is expired ? Even as we have sowed, so to 
 reap, either to be eternally crowned, or eternally 
 damned. Whatever, therefore, my hand findeth to 
 do, let me do it with all my might; for there is no 
 work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in 
 the grave, whither I go. — Lord, help me so to 
 work with and for thee in time, as that I may rest 
 with thee for ever. 
 
 52. For comely Helen, what a bloody siege of 
 R3 
 
394^ 
 
 Troy ! For amiable Rachael how many years of 
 hard service did Jacob cheerfully fulfil ! What 
 then doth Jesus Christ deserve, who is altogether 
 lovely, and before whose shining glory, the beauty 
 of the whole creation is but ugliness-and deformity ! 
 Therefore, be not discouraged, O my soul, though 
 thine enemies be fierce, their assaults cruel, and thy 
 resistance even unto blood, thou fightest for a beau- 
 tiful Christ, that infinitely more than deserves it. 
 Though thy rules be strict, thy duties hard, and 
 thy labours great, thou servest for an amiable 
 Christ, that will sufficiently reward it. Fix thine 
 eyes upon the lovely beauties of thy Christ, and thy 
 espousals ; and then all service for and of him will 
 be thy pleasure. 
 
 53. Formerly I, with the world, accounted the spirit 
 of a Christian a melancholy one, and the paths of holi- 
 ness unpleasant, leading to the deserts of sad retire- 
 ment. But now I see they have hidden manna, which 
 the world knows not of; glorious joys, which strangers 
 do not intermeddle with ; and the closer and exacter 
 they walk, the fuller and sweeter are their joys. 
 Formerly, the very thoughts of parting with my 
 pleasures and delights, to embrace soul-humbling, 
 self-denying duties, were grievous to me. But now, 
 blessed be God, it is sweet to want my former 
 sweetness, and my rejoicing to be without my former 
 joys. I now see a heaven in the way to heaven; 
 and that one look of faith, one smile of Christ, one 
 glance of heaven, one grape of Canaan, one glimpse 
 of my crown of glory, yields more sweetness, com- 
 fort, and content, than all the pleasures and delights 
 of the world; and that the very gleaning of spiritual 
 
395 
 
 joy is better than the vintage of carnal delights. 
 Let no man, therefore, stand off from religion from 
 want of pleasures; for here he shall not lose, but 
 only change them for far better. 
 
 54. None of Solomon's many tried conclusions 
 took but the last, namely, the fear of God. O 
 my soul, thou mayest tire thyself with variety of 
 objects^ but nothing but the enjoyment of thy God 
 will satisfy thee. He only is the full and primary 
 goodness, the all-powerful and all-sufficient fulness. 
 As manna was the delight of every palate, Jesus 
 Christ is satisfaction to every soul. Let me, there- 
 fore, taste and see how sweet the Lord is. It is 
 because we never find sufficiency in one creature, 
 that our heart wanders after a variety of them. 
 Take up therefore thy rest, O my soul, in the 
 chiefest and choicest good, which comprehends all the 
 rest. These golden rays of goodness, which lie 
 scattered in creatures, are only to be found conjunc- 
 tively in God. These pure ingredients, which 
 compose the highest excellency, largest goodness, 
 and fullest perfection, are only to be found collect- 
 ively in him. Knowest thou any thing profitable, 
 delectable, or desirable, in the creature? Thou 
 mayest see it in thy God, find it in thy Christ. 
 Art thou captivated? He is thy Redeemer. Art 
 thou wounded? He is thy kind Samaritan. Art 
 thou broken-hearted ? He will bind thee up. Art 
 thou sick? He is thy physician. Art thou perse^ 
 cuted? He is thy refuge. Art thou hungry and 
 thirsty? He is thy living bread and flowing stream. 
 Art thou weary? He is thy rest. Art thou in 
 want or poverty? He is an inexhaustible treasury. 
 
396 
 
 Art thou in disgrace or contempt? He is thy ho- 
 nour. Art thou dead, dull, and heavy? He is a 
 quickening Spirit. Wouldst thou have grace? 
 He is the fountain. Wouldst thou have heaven? 
 He is the way. " He shall guide thee by his 
 counsel, and afterward receive thee to glory." Let 
 me, therefore, never leave the living fountain, to 
 quench my thirst at a broken cistern. Why»should 
 I tire myself to gather drops of honey from so many 
 dying flowers, when I can satisfy myself with streams 
 of sweetness in my living Christ? In this let me 
 bid them all adieu; for Christ outbids them all. 
 
 55. A Christian may raise another paradise 
 here below, and make a lower heaven on earth. 
 For " this," O Jehovah, " is eternal life, to know 
 thee, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." To 
 know Christ, in the evidence of his love revealed to 
 us, and Christ revealed in us, is the very entrance of 
 heaven. For what is the perfection of grace, but 
 the full knowledge of him ? And what is the con- 
 summation of glory, but the immediate vision and 
 enjoyment of him ? Lord, therefore, add to my 
 knowledge every day, that, at my last day, I may be 
 perfect in Christ. 
 
 56. Godly sorrow, like weeping Mary, seeks 
 Christ. Saving faith, like wrestling Jacob, finds 
 and holds Christ. Heavenly love, like the affec- 
 tionate spouse, cleaves to, and dwells with Christ. 
 Here it brings him into the chambers of the queen; 
 and hereafter it brings her into the chambers of the 
 king. It is an eternal grace alway lodging in the 
 bosom of Christ. Lord, thou art the desire of my 
 soul. O that I could seek thee, find, and love 
 thee, so as I may for ever enjoy thee ! 
 
397 
 
 57. The stream of sorrow, like water, ascends no 
 higher than its spring. Shi gives two deadly stabs, 
 one at the soul of man, and a second at the heart of 
 Christ. If I mourn for sin only as it hath wounded 
 my soul, my sorrow flows from a natural heart, as it 
 only ascends to a natural height. But if I weep 
 for sin, as it hath wounded Christ, as it hath shed 
 that blood that saves me, and pierced that heart that 
 loves me, my sorrow hath its spring in heaven, since 
 it riseth to a supernatural height. Lord, that my 
 sorrow may be sound, pierce my heart for sin, as it 
 strikes through my soul, and pierceth Christ. 
 
 58. My life is sweet; but Christ must be sweeter. 
 My soul is precious ; but Christ must be more dear 
 and precious. My salvation is much; but Christ 
 must be more. He must be prized and loved above 
 all. Were there no arms of mercy to receive me, 
 no heaven to entertain me, no weight of glory to 
 crown me, Christ would deserve my superlative love. 
 It is carnal love to follow Christ for loaves. It is 
 mercenary love to seek him for reward. It is but 
 an adulterate affection that loves the present more 
 than the giver, or the ring more than the suitor. 
 The choice cannot be cordial, that aims only at a 
 portion; that love cannot be real, that aims only at 
 a benefit. — Lord, thou art infinitely amiable in thy- 
 self, let me therefore love thee for thyself 
 
 59. Let me never venture on a duty unless I bring 
 God to it; nor rest satisfied, unless I carry God from 
 it. Let me seek the Lord and his strength, seek his 
 face for evermore. Let me never rise from duty, 
 before the countenance of God rise in mercy on my 
 soul. Unless Christ fit me for duty, and meet me 
 
398 
 
 in it, it will be no ordinance of comfort to me. 
 What is the chariot, if my beloved be not in it ? 
 
 blessed soul that never prays, hears, or receives 
 the sacrament, but carries Christ to all, enjoys 
 Christ in all, and brings Christ from all ! Lord, in 
 all my approaches to thee, let me go out in thy 
 strength, and return in thy presence. 
 
 60. Oh ! my soul, thou art always striving, and 
 yet sin is always stirring. Thou fearest the truth 
 of thy grace, because thou feelest the working of 
 thy inward lusts. But it will be so while 1 live. 
 Thou canst not come out of Egypt, but Amalek will 
 lay wait for thee in the way. The flesh will be sure 
 to trouble thee, though it never will be able to con- 
 quer thee. He that is at rest in sin, hath Satan 
 peaceably reigning in his heart. But where there is 
 any work with Christ, there will be always war with 
 sin. While I live, sin will dwell in my mortal 
 body, and, like my will, be still twisting about, un- 
 til the wall be demolished. Sin brought forth 
 death, and death must be the tomb of sin. To 
 keep me humble, God, when he broke open my 
 prison, hath left the chain on my feet. To exercise 
 my graces, he hath left the Canaanites in the land. 
 To exercise my faith, Goliah still shows himself in 
 the field. Let me, denying all confidence in created 
 armour and strength, attack him in the name of the 
 Lord, — in the strength of Christ. So, though 
 
 1 cannot help the rebelling power of sin, I shall al- 
 way hinder the ruling power of it. As it shall be 
 my grief, that sin will have its being, it shall be my 
 care, that it never gain by its striving. Though sin 
 may live in me, yet I will never live in sin. 
 
399 
 
 61. I must not pray simply against temptation, 
 but against the evil of it. I may be tempted, and 
 yet not overcome, even as castles are often assaulted, 
 without being taken. If Satan inject an evil mo- 
 tion, and I reject it, this is not mine, but the deviPs 
 sin. It will be a shining jewel in my crown of vic- 
 tory, and an aggravating item in his final judgment. 
 Why should I be terrified at his roaring, as if he 
 could not rage, but he must devour? or, as if grace 
 and temptation could not stand together? Spiritual 
 wickedness is always found in the heavenliest souls 
 on earth. Satan's violence to bruise my heel, is a 
 token that he feels or fears my treading on his head. 
 If Christ, as my Captain, lead my attack, he will 
 bring me off victorious ; so that temptation shall 
 prove a file to beautify my soul, and a sword to 
 wound mine adversary. As Satan will be always 
 tempting, let me be always watching; and what I 
 cannot hinder, let me be sure to Jiate; so shall it be 
 my joy to fall into temptation, and the devil's misery 
 to fall into his own pit. 
 
 62. In a terrible storm, Caesar cried to the des- 
 ponding pilot, " Fear not, thou carriest Csesar." 
 How truly may a gracious person say, in the midst 
 of all desertions, afflictions, and tribulations, * Fear 
 not, O my soul, thou carriest Jesus Christ?' What 
 though the windows of heaven be opened for a 
 storm, or the fountains of the great deep broken up 
 for a flood, desertions from above, and afflictions 
 from below, yet God, that sits in heaven, will not 
 cast away his son, and Christ, that lives in me, will 
 not let me sink. SweUing waves are but to lift me 
 nearer to heaven, and raging winds are but to make 
 
400 
 
 me awake my master. O prize thy Christ, trust 
 thy Christ, and fear no evil; for if I sail with Christ, 
 I am sure to land with Christ. 
 
 63. If Satan cannot hinder the birth of our 
 graces, he labours to compass their death. Hence 
 it is ordinary to see Christians lose their first love, 
 and fall from their first works. The love that was 
 once a sparkling and ascending flame, becomes a 
 little spark, almost suffocated with the earth. The 
 godly sorrow, which, like Jordan, once overflowed 
 all its banks, becomes a summer brook, which makes 
 the traveller ashamed. The man's proceedings 
 against sins were once like Jehu's motion, rapid and 
 active; but now he can sleep in Delilah's lap, while 
 she steals away his strength. Once he could give 
 no rest to his eyes till God gave rest to his soul ; 
 but now he can lie down with sin in his bosom, and 
 wounds in his conscience. At first his zeal did eat 
 him up; but now his lean decays have eaten up his 
 zeal. How, O Christian, is thine excellency de- 
 parted, and thy crown fallen from thy head ! What 
 a dangerous breach hast thou made for the entrance 
 of sin and sorrow ! Temptations find thee wrecked, 
 and leave thee wounded; thy graces, that could once 
 have broken through an host of armies, and drawn 
 water out of the wells of salvation, now follow thee 
 trembling. Thou hast powerful enemies, but feeble 
 graces, — often assaulted, but easily conquered. 
 Thy sun sets, and thy clouds arise. Thy graces 
 decline in their exercise, and God's favours are less 
 observable. Thou restrainest communion with 
 saints, and God withholds communion from thy soul. 
 Thou offerest up thy sacrifices without holy fire of 
 
401 
 
 zeal, and he punisheth thy coldness with a fire of 
 wrath. Thy spirit delights not in hira, and his soul 
 hath no delight in thee. Bad news from heaven 
 produceth sad news from conscience. What trem- 
 blings of heart! What astonishment of soul! 
 What disputes against mercy, and questionings of 
 salvation will thy wounded conscience and bleeding 
 spirit raise? W^hat flashes of lightning ! What 
 claps of thunder will break out upon thy soul, when 
 the hot pangs of death shall mix with cold and chill 
 doubts of salvation ! — While therefore I draw out 
 my soul to praise God for grace implanted, let me 
 exert my strength to serve God by grace improved; 
 that as every hour sets me nearer my grave, every 
 action may set me nearer my heaven. 
 
 64. An hypocrite is the devil's servant in God's 
 livery; and therefore out of favour both in heaven 
 and earth ; for men see his livery, and therefore hate 
 him ; and God seeth his heart, and will not own 
 him; men see his outward sanctity, and therefore 
 deride him; and God seeth his inward hypocrisy, 
 and therefore abhors him; — so that he travels in the 
 wilderness, and yet shall never come to Canaan. 
 At the last, instead of " W^ell done, good and faith- 
 ful servant," Christ shall with detestation, ask him, 
 " Who hath required this at your hands ?" He 
 that cunningly deceived others, at last foolishly be- 
 guiles himself. He steals his own damnation, and 
 sweats to obtain hell. Profane men go to hell 
 openly by the gate, but hypocrites steal in through 
 the postern. W^hile therefore these clothe them- 
 selves with formality, clothe thou me with Jesus' 
 righteousness, and with an universal sincerity in re- 
 
402 
 
 ceiving and following him. If then men hate me, 
 God will love me. My duties may be full of im- 
 perfection, but will never want a gracious accep- 
 tance; my way may be through trouble, but my 
 rest shall be in glory. 
 
 65. As great serenity of weather prognosticates an 
 earthquake or whirlwind ; so great security of life 
 forebodes much trembling and astonishment of spirit. 
 He that builds his hopes in formality and carnal se- 
 curity, will meet with a fearful fall. None is more 
 liable to fall suddenly into the deeps of damnation, 
 than the man that puts off his open profaneness, to 
 put on an outward profession,— takes down the 
 frame of his gross iniquity, to set up a superficial 
 form of piety, and covers his face with a surface of 
 rehgion. For while he thinks himself well, he seeks 
 not to be better, — so that he slumbers away his 
 time, till the midnight cry is heard, and then he 
 startles and awakes, and sees nothing but the bridge 
 of mercy drawn up and the gates of heaven shut in. 
 Perhaps he pleads his relation to Christ as his mas- 
 ter, and shows his services, as if he would command 
 eternal happiness for his wages. But Christ drives 
 him off as a never known, never approved worker of 
 iniquity. Because he hath reformed in many 
 things, and conformed to many duties, he therefore, 
 with Agag, concludes the bitterness of death to be 
 past, and so clothes himself with smooth imagina- 
 tions, and deceitful apprehensions, till he be hewn 
 asunder before the Lord. Let me therefore be al- 
 ways fearing, never formal or secure in any duty. 
 Better tremble here, than startle in hell. 
 
 6Q. Sin must be viewed either with tears or in 
 
403 
 
 torments. If I commit the least sin, and die im- 
 penitent, my soul is infallibly lost for ever. If I 
 commit sin, and do repent, what hidings of and 
 frowns from God ! what breaking of bones, what 
 bitter pangs ! what shadows of death ! what terrors of 
 hell may seize upon me, before I can have my peace 
 and assurance established, should I give way to sin 
 because it is pleasant, or because it is pardonable? 
 Do I love poison because it is sweet, or because I 
 may have an antidote? If it work not out my life, 
 it will work to ray trouble. I have a precious soul; 
 should I lose it for a lust? I have a gracious God; 
 shall I venture him for a sin? No; let me alway 
 reject that for which I am sure to lose my peace, 
 likely to lose my soul. 
 
 67. What heir on his way to take possession of 
 a rich inheritance, lets a green meadow or pleasant 
 garden detain him ; or a black cloud or foul way 
 dishearten him ? O my soul, thou art travelling to 
 take possession of a glorious inheritance among the 
 saints, wilt thou turn aside to crop every flower? 
 Wilt thou stand still to hear every melodious sound ? 
 Wilt thou leave thy way to drink of every gilded 
 stream of carnal pleasure? What is this, but to 
 view a meadow, and lose a manor; — for a dying 
 flower, to part with an eternal crown — for a flying 
 vanity, to lose an immortal felicity? — What though 
 my way should be in tears, and my days in sorrow, a 
 clouded sky and a swelling sea, that my very life 
 should be in danger, yet my infinitely good Father, 
 my large portion, my sweet rest, and my everlasting 
 comfort, will make amends for all. Let therefore 
 neither smiles nor frowns from the world, retard my 
 
404 
 
 travel to my Father's house, my better country, my 
 eternal happiness in heaven. 
 
 68. As our heart is, so is our estate. Riches 
 are but cyphers; it is the mind that makes the sum. 
 What the better am I for a great estate, if 1 am not 
 contented with it? Desires of having will more 
 than eat up all the comforts and delights of posses- 
 sion. In going through a large fair, Socrates 
 bravely said, " How many things do I not need?" 
 But it was much more grand in the apostles to live 
 as having nothing, and yet possessing all things. 
 All would be well, if my heart were but well. Let 
 me therefore form my heart to my estate, and then 
 I shall have an estate according to my heart. 
 
 69. When I think of Job tormented on the 
 dunghill, Johri hungering in the wilderness, Peter, 
 and especially Jesus on the cross, I am led to think, 
 how severely God will hereafter punish those repro- 
 bates whom he loathes, when he deals so sharply 
 with his children whom he loves. Meditate terror 
 therefore, you mockers of the miseries of saints; for 
 in them your hell sparkles out on earth. And when 
 I consider Herod in his pomp, Haman in his 
 honour, Ahasuerus at his feast, &c. I think, if God 
 drop so much kindness into a vessel of wrath, what 
 will he for ever pour into a vessel of mercy? If 
 God do so much for a slave on earth, what will he do 
 for a son in heaven ? Never therefore, you saints, 
 murmur at the prosperity of the wicked. It is a 
 visible proof of your own eternal happiness. Let 
 therefore the afflictions of saints give me a glimpse 
 of hell, and the prosperity of the wicked give me a 
 glance of heaven. 
 
405 
 
 70. God hath made all things for his elect, and 
 his elect for himself. All is yours, and ye are 
 Christ's. If earth, if heaven, if hell, if Christ, and 
 all that he is, hath, or doth, be for me, let me serve 
 my God in all things, and myself in nothing. 
 
 71. No creature hath any goodness in it, but as 
 it stands connected with God the chiefest good. 
 All the comforts and enjoyments of wicked men, not 
 springing from his love, are but dainty channels, 
 mudded and embittered by his wrath, fading brooks, 
 that will make their dependents ashamed. He that 
 only enjoys creatures in themselves, loseth both 
 them and himself. These only are pure and sweet 
 streams, which run from the fountain of redeeming 
 mercy through Jesus Christ. Lord, let all that I 
 enjoy flow from thy love, through the blood of thy 
 Son; and make me to love thee, because thou first 
 lovedst me. 
 
 72. As all the rivers which flow from the sea run 
 back again to it, so all these blessings which come 
 from God, must alway be employed for God. What 
 I receive from him in his mercy, he must have re- 
 turned in his glory. Lord, whatever I enjoy, let me 
 find thee in it, and serve thee with it. 
 
 73. Love should alway be the life of all religious 
 motion. That soul goes truly that hath true love 
 to weigh it; and that soul loves truly that hath a 
 true object to centre it. A gracious spirit loves the 
 Lord, not so much because he doth good, as because 
 he is good. It is not proper affection, that loves an 
 effluent sweetness more than an inherent goodness. 
 In the love of Christ for himself, there is alway suf- 
 ficient strength to move and constrain the soul'—- 
 
406 
 
 Were there no heaven to reward, or hell to punish, 
 holiness should be my heaven, and sin a hell to my 
 heart. 
 
 74. Our natural life is but a lingering death, 
 and a race to the grave. We only begin to live in- 
 deed, when we begin to live to God and for eternity. 
 In reckoning his age, Alexander counted not his 
 years, but his victories. In taking account of ray 
 life, let me not reckon my time, but my enjoyments 
 of Christ and labours for him. 
 
 T5. If I am a saint, three questions. What I 
 was; What I am; and, What I shall be, require 
 my serious answers. — What was I? A rebel to 
 ray God, a prodigal to my Father, a slave to my 
 lust, an alien from the commonwealth of Israel. — 
 What am I? A son of God, a spouse of Christ, 
 a temple of the Holy Ghost, begotten of Jesus' 
 word, blood, and Spirit, a citizen of Zion, written 
 among the living in Jerusalem. — What shall I be? 
 A glorified saint, a companion of angels, a triumph- 
 ant conqueror, a crowned king, an attendant on the 
 Lamb, a spectator of all these soul-ravishing and in- 
 effable excellencies that are in God, an immediate 
 beholder and enjoyer of Jesus Christ, nay one with 
 him in his exaltation, clothed with his excellencies, 
 enthroned in his glories, crowned with his eternity, 
 and filled with his happiness. — Oh ! stand amazed 
 at free grace. And since God hath made me a 
 vessel filled with his mercy, let my person and life 
 be a spring flowing with his praise. 
 
 76. My soul takes its rise from every creature to 
 heaven. When I see the stars, I think. If one star 
 be of such magnitude, what must be the dimensions of 
 
407 
 
 these heavens, in which so many are fixed? Nay, 
 how immense that God whom the heaven of heavens 
 cannot contain? When I see the sun, I think, If 
 one sun make such a hright and glorious day on 
 earth, what a glorious heaven will that be, in which 
 every saint shall be a sun, and every sun as much 
 brighter than this, as it is brighter than cur bodies; 
 and yet all those but shadows to the Sun of Right- 
 eousness, to the Lord God and the Lamb, who are 
 the light thereof! When I consider how the risinf^ 
 sun, by the perfection of his beams, puts beauty, 
 life, and joy upon the face of the whole lower world, 
 paints the flowers, gilds the corn, makes the plants 
 to flourish, cheers the birds, and makes the valleys to 
 shout for joy, I think. What shall be the shining 
 beauty and ravishing delights of that soul upon 
 which the brightness of Jesus and his Father's glory 
 and splendour of his beauty shall rise, and rest, and 
 shine to all eternity ! When I consider the air, how 
 I cannot think at all without drawing it in, I see, 
 that I can think of nothing well, but as God puts 
 goodness into my thoughts. Lord, when I view the 
 variety of thy creatures, and see one excel in beauty, 
 another in strength, another in wisdom, another in 
 love, and others in swiftness, I see them but beams 
 of thy brightness, and streams of thy fulness, which 
 had their being from thy hand, and have all their 
 mixed perfection in thy pure essence; and I think, 
 how happy shall that soul be, that enjoys all perfec- 
 tion in God, and God infinitely above all! — When 
 I see stately buildings, shady groves, crystal brooks, 
 and pleasant meadows, owned by a wicked man, I 
 think, if Simeon gets such a mess, what will Benja- 
 
408 
 
 min's portion be? If the children of concubines 
 have so large gifts, what will be the inheritance of 
 the Son of promise ! When I look on my own tem- 
 porals, I bless thee, that I have a convenient suflB- 
 ciency, a goodly heritage, tents by the wells of Elira, 
 a portion from the hand of him who knows what is 
 best for me, I think, if thou givest me so much in 
 the time of my vanity, what wilt thou do for me in 
 the day of my glory? But above all, when I think 
 on that sweet communion I enjoy with God, these 
 glorious rays which dart from the face of Jesus 
 Christ, and ravishing joys that flow from the wells 
 of salvation, what large views have I of my eternal 
 happiness ! For, if the Lord give me such a choice 
 mercy for my earnest, how rich a blessing shall I 
 have for my inheritance? If this be the first fruits, 
 what shall be the full harvest? If I have such a 
 glorious beam in my prison, what a glorious sun shall 
 shine in my palace? If I have such joy in the ex- 
 pectation of my happiness, what shall I have in the 
 eternal consummation of it? 
 
 77. Anaxagoras said. He was born that he might 
 contemplate heaven. My soul, wast not thou born 
 again, that thou mightest live in heaven? God hath 
 formed thee to enjoy communion with himself. Stay 
 not then one hour on earth, but, with Enoch, spend 
 thy days with God, walk and converse with Jesus 
 Christ in the galleries of his love, and, with Moses, 
 live on the mount of glory. Live so strictly, and 
 walk so closely with God, that, with David, thou 
 mayest be ever with him. 
 
 78. Lord Jesus, how near wilt thou bring me to . 
 thyself? Must I abide in thee, and thou in me? 
 
409 
 
 Must we be of one soul, and of one spirit? Is it 
 not enough, that I should repose myself in the bosom 
 of thy sweetest affections; that I should be always 
 in the embraces of thy choicest love; that I should 
 be for ever wrapt up in the bowels of thy tenderest 
 mercies? But must I so dwell with thee, and wilt 
 thou so dwell in me, as to make me an eternal sharer 
 in thy bliss, and partner in thy glory ? What is 
 man, that thou shouldst so regard him ? What am 
 I, that thou shouldst so remember and magnify me? 
 — Lord, let thy mercies so constrain me, that all my 
 affections may run out unto thee, and all my strength 
 may run out for thee. 
 
 79. Every real Christian is the spiritual temple 
 of the living God. Worldly cares and earthly de- 
 sires are the buyers and sellers that pollute this tem- 
 ple. Now, how unworthy, how criminal, to make 
 this house of God a den of thieves ? How vile 
 idolatry, to set up a dagon by God's ark, a sinful 
 lust by Jesus Christ? Every power of his soul, and 
 member of his body, is a vessel of that temple. 
 How debasing and wicked, to employ these golden, 
 these sanctified vessels, to a sordid, abominable use; 
 to take that heart, which should be filled with God, 
 and fill it with sinful lusts; to lay open these ears, 
 which should be always ready to hear what God 
 shall speak, to a detracting tale, a foolish or filthy 
 jest; to defile that tongue, which should set forth the 
 praises of redeeming Godhead, and must hereafter 
 for ever sing the sweet Hosannahs and Hallelujahs 
 of heaven, with idle speeches and wicked words? 
 How sacrilegious, to let forth God's vessels to 
 sin and his rooms to lust? Lord, whatever of me 
 S 35 
 
410 
 
 thou takest for thy own, fill, rule, and use it as thy 
 own. 
 
 80. My duties are uprightly performed before 
 God, when they turn me into their own very nature. 
 Happy student, that by his continual reading and 
 meditation makes his breast a very library of Christ. 
 Happy Christian, that so hears the word of God, 
 that it abides in him, and is as it were incorporated 
 into him; — and who so reads, as to make himself a 
 living epistle of Christ, in whose practice others may 
 read what he had before read in the Bible; — who so 
 blesseth and thanks God, as to make himself a praise 
 to him; who so prays, as that every petition runs 
 through his whole conversation; — when religious du- 
 ties are the fire, and his life the incense ? Till our 
 worship be distilled into practice, it is but an empty 
 cloud. Till our religious duties be as vitals in our 
 practice, they are but dead performances. Let 
 therefore, O Lord, my duties receive life from thy 
 Spirit, and my whole conversation derive Hfe from 
 those duties. 
 
 81 Even in the wilderness, Basil found, that he 
 could not be more happy or devout, because he re- 
 tained his old heart. I have often sought the pri- 
 vatest place of duty, and pressed to hear the best 
 ministers, and enjoy the best means, expecting great 
 advantages; but have gained little, because I still 
 carry with me a bad heart. This is the accursed 
 Remora, that stops or retards me in my course to 
 heaven. I find, that it is not retirement into lonely 
 places, but retiring into, and by the Spirit of God 
 and blood of Christ purifying and ruHng, my own 
 heart, that will make me to grow in grace. It is 
 
411 
 
 not ray coming to pure ordinances, but my bringing 
 with me a pure heart, that will advance my fellow- 
 ship with God. Lord, I have often searched my 
 heart, and still my heart deceiveth me in the search. 
 O by thy grace fit my heart for every duty, that 
 every duty may be fit for thyself. 
 
 82. Princes combat with flesh and blood; Chris- 
 tians wrestle with principalities and powers. Their 
 wars give days of truce; ours not a minute of cessa- 
 tion. Their conditions of peace may occasion a re- 
 treat; here nothing but death can raise the siege. 
 Kings, wlien overcome, may save themselves by 
 flight; but Christians may as soon flee from them- 
 selves as from their enemies. Here policy and 
 power, cruelty and perpetuity, all concur to render a 
 battle dangerous; not only all the powers of earth, 
 but all the forces and stratagems of hell, are always 
 charged upon the soul. The Christian is still in 
 the field of conflict. He cannot let down his hands, 
 but Amalek prevails. Not to be a conqueror, is to 
 be a prisoner. Not to win the field, is to lose the 
 soul. — Security wounds, yielding kills, and nothing 
 but victory crowns. Let me therefore watch as for 
 my life, and fight as for my soul. I shall soon see 
 these enemies no more, but lay down my sword, and 
 take up my palm, and solemnize my victory to all 
 eternity. What though I now read and hear of the 
 power and policy of my innumerable enemies, and 
 sadly experience the truth of it; yet how glorious a 
 conqueror shall I be, when, in the strength of 
 Christ, I shall overcome them all. What though 
 my assaults be many, and my enemies mighty, if 
 God strengthen me, I have enough to comfort me; 
 S2 
 
412 
 
 for the greater my enemy, the more glorious my 
 victory; and the more glorious my victory, the more 
 triumphant my glory. 
 
 83. It is strange to see some Christians mourn 
 as inordinately for ordinary losses, as if not only the 
 stream, but the fountain, had been exhausted. 
 Let my understanding act like itself. — What, must 
 the stream of my sorrow run wholly in this channel? 
 Is there no mourning to be made for sin? Shall I 
 suffer my heart to swim away in tears? Are there 
 no duties to be performed for God? Do not I know, 
 that such a sad heart cannot rightly serve a good 
 God ? I have lost the creature, but I must keep 
 my God. I have parted with an outward comfort; 
 but I shall find it again with advantage in Jesus 
 Christ. What though I had lost not only one, but 
 all earthly things, yet in enjoying Christ I am pos- 
 sessor of all things ? Let therefore the failing of 
 the stream but send me to the everflowing fountain. 
 Let me mourn for the loss of the creature, in be- 
 wailing the sinful cause of it: so shall my sorrow 
 be godly, not worldly. Let me never be satisfied, 
 till I make up the absence of the creature in the en- 
 joyment of Christ, the fountain of it: so shall it be 
 my gain, not my loss. 
 
 84. It is said, that plants of a contrary nature, 
 growing near to one another, as roses to garlick or 
 the like, extract each what juice of the earth corres- 
 ponds with their nature, and so are the most perfect 
 of their kind. I am sure this is true in spirituals, 
 and therefore I do not wonder that the saints are so 
 much afflicted. I see prosperity is too strong a 
 sucker, insensibly exhausting the spiritual sap and 
 
413 
 
 celestial vigour of the soul, and so debilitating the 
 principles of growth and life. Whereas adversity 
 only draws out what may be malignant, and leaves 
 behind it what may be for nourishment; takes off 
 the dregs, and leaves the spirits, by which the soul 
 is elevated, and made more fruitful in the works of 
 holiness. Therefore, Lord, if the flowers of the 
 world be too succulent, transplant me among the 
 briars, that I may grow in grace and in the know- 
 ledge of Christ. 
 
 85. When I look up to heaven, how often I see" 
 the sun shine and set? When I look to the sea, 
 how often I see the tossed ship mount toward hea- 
 ven, and again go down into the deep ? And how 
 similar is my own spiritual condition? When I 
 look down into my own soul, how often I see my in- 
 ward comforts rise and fall ? Now I am on mount 
 Tabor, and have a glance of heaven. Anon I lie 
 weeping in Bochira, because I have lost sight of my 
 country. Joshua's long day is turned into Paul's 
 sad night, in which neither moon nor stars appeared. 
 To quicken our affections, God gives us now and 
 then some glances of heaven, that we may be in 
 love with it, and again turns away the face of his 
 throne, and spreads a cloud over it, that we may 
 long for it. He suffers our happiness here to be 
 imperfect, that we may press forward to that place 
 in which it shall be perfect. Lord, when thou 
 -showest thyself, let me love and admire thee; when 
 thou withdrawest thyself, let me follow thee. — 
 And, under all changes, let my soul be always 
 breathing, panting, longing, and reaching after thee, 
 till I obtain the perfect, uninterrupted, and eternal 
 enjoyment of thee. 
 
414 
 
 86. Where the king is, there is the court; and 
 where the presence of God is, there is heaven. God 
 brings his heaven with him, and the man that en- 
 joys God, carries heaven about with him. Let him 
 be cast into a dungeon or furnace, or wherever else, 
 he is still in heaven. If God be with me in a 
 prison, I will, with Paul and Silas, sing my hallelu- 
 jahs. If I am burning at a stake, the beams of the 
 Sun of Righteousness will put out the flames, and 
 turn their troubles into comforts; so that it is but 
 winking, and I am in heaven. When I enjoy my 
 reconciled God in Christ, I need neither sun, nor 
 moon, nor any earthly comfort to enlighten my soul. 
 The glory of God doth enlighten it, and the Lamb 
 is the light thereof: God himself irradiates it with 
 the brightness of his beauty, and Christ himself fills 
 it with joy unspeakable and full of glory. — There- 
 fore, Lord, let me enjoy thyself, and then deal with 
 me as thou pleasest. 
 
 87. A wicked man's life is like Belshazzar's 
 feast. It begins in joy and luxury, mad mirth, and 
 pleasure; but it ends in terror, trembling, anguish, 
 and ruin. In his entrance, perhaps his gates are 
 riches, his seats honour, his paths pleasures; he 
 clothes gorgeously, walks delicately, and fares de- 
 liciously every day. But in his exit, he is cast out 
 from God as an everlasting curse; destruction clos- 
 eth her mouth upon him; his body is wrapt in 
 loathsome dust and abominable vermin; his soul is 
 buried in the flames of hell, and his name is covered 
 with darkness. But mark the perfect man. Though 
 the world, for a little time, hate and persecute him, 
 his end is peace. Though he enter weeping, he 
 
415 
 
 goes out rejoicing. Though he enter fighting, he 
 goes out triumphing, while saints and angels clap 
 their hands for joy. Let the end of my life be in 
 everlasting fellowship with God, and I care not how 
 many rubs I meet with in my way to it. 
 
 88. Earthly riches are not true, because they 
 are unuseful to our soul; nay, golden heaps are 
 ordinarily the ruinous plagues and miserable spoils 
 of precious souls. And besides, they are not ours, 
 because we cannot carry them with us, when we 
 leave this world. In death, men quickly know 
 whose that soul shall for ever be, which they have 
 sinfully abused by their riches, but never know 
 whose these things shall be, which they have so 
 miserably provided. In their awaking at the last 
 day, they shall find none of them in their hand. 
 All earthly things are left behind us in death, and 
 only our gracious habits and good works shall follow 
 us, and abide with us for ever. If I would be rich, 
 let me then, by Jesus* grace, raise virtues out of 
 vanity ; so shall I lay up goods indeed for eternity. 
 
 89. Competency is better than abundance. Be- 
 ing not far from my home, I need not make much 
 provision for my way. Food and raiment will be 
 sufficient for my journey; superfluity will be a bur- 
 den. When Jacob had only his staff, he went on 
 freely in his way; but when he had flocks and herds, 
 he drove but slowly. We see daily rich men either 
 losing their paths, or riding but little ground, while 
 poor men run in the way of God's commandments. 
 I have enough of earthly things, if I have but as 
 much as will carry me well to heaven. Let me 
 therefore desire no more than will mend my pace, 
 and serve me in my journey. 
 
416 
 
 90. We must never presume upon means with- 
 out God, because the pipes cannot convey, unless 
 the spring communicate. Nor must we presume 
 upon God without using the means which he hath 
 appointed, because the goings forth of providence 
 are always in the paths of diligence. As in the 
 fight with Amalek, Joshua fought while Moses 
 prayed; so the proceeding of a Christian's faith 
 should always be upon the mount, and his industry 
 in the valley. While the heart is lifted up, the 
 hand should be stretched out. He may rest in 
 God's power and promise, who restlessl}^ labours in 
 the means. He may confidently depend on God's 
 providence, who fully lays out himself in God's 
 way. I must sow my seed, and wait for the rain 
 and heat; do my work, and leave the event to God. 
 I must neither be idle in using the means, nor make 
 an idol of them, but henceforth lay my hand to them, 
 as if they were all in all, and yet look above them, 
 as if they were nothing at all. 
 
 91. Men are not, as Cicero said, naturally born 
 to liberty and honour. It is but regenerate men 
 that are children of love and heirs of glory, that are 
 clothed with the sun, crowned with the stars, and 
 reckoned among the angels of God. Let me re- 
 flect upon my dignity, and consider, whether an em- 
 peror should live like a beggar, and one clothed in 
 scarlet should embrace a dunghill. Am I born of 
 God; and shall I live like a beast? Hath God 
 raised my spirits with the highest excellencies; and 
 shall 1 stain my nobleness with poor empty vanities? 
 Have, and may I feed on Christ ; and shall I live 
 on dust and dung? Am I a child of light; and 
 
417 
 
 shall I commit works of darkness? Shall I sit with 
 Christ to judge the world; and shall I now be a 
 drudge to it? Hath Christ prepared for me a man- 
 sion in the heaven ; and shall I, like a toad or mole, 
 grovel and ferret in the earth? No. Being re- 
 deemed by, created in, and united to Christ, I am 
 born to greater and higher things than to be a slave 
 to a sinful lust, or drudge to an evil world. 
 
 92. Pure love runs wholly out of itself into the 
 bosom of its beloved object. Heavenly love centres 
 no lower than heaven. It only loves God in Christ, 
 and lives in him, as its adequate object and rest. 
 As a beam it only stands in reference to the sun, 
 and loves creatures only as a step to advance it 
 nearer to God. Lord, I would not care for hea- 
 ven, were it not for thee, nor love myself were I not 
 in thee. 
 
 93. Heaven is the very element, and Christ is the 
 centre of every gracious soul. Heaven is its breath- 
 ing place, and Christ the place of its rest. It can- 
 not live out of that element, nor rest out of this 
 centre. It is always struggling, till it get to hea- 
 ven, always roUing, till it come to Christ. Return 
 unto thy rest, O my soul. Lord, let me draw no 
 breath, but that which I fetch from heaven, and 
 never let me rest till I rest in thee. 
 
 94. Man is not contented with his mere being, 
 but is still aspiring to an eminence in that being.— 
 As plants are continually growing up till they come 
 to that maturity which makes them perfect, so man 
 is always pressing forward, till he come to that pro- 
 posed end, which he thinks will make him happy.—* 
 O my soul, God in Christ is thine end and thy ex- 
 
418 
 
 cellency; and thy happiness lies in moving forward 
 till thou come to thy perfection in him. Be then 
 always rising in faith and love, till thou comest to 
 rest in the bosom of thy Lord. 
 
 95. The more closely we associate with Christ, 
 the more shall we be like unto him. Moses but 
 talked with God, and his face shone with a beam of 
 God's glory. A soul that doth converse, and is 
 famiHar with Jesus Christ, will shine forth with the 
 glories of Christ. As wisdom maketh the face of a 
 man to shine, so Jesus Christ makes a soul to shine, 
 80 that he that judiciously looks upon him, can per- 
 ceive, that that soul hath met with and seen the Lord. 
 A strong reflex of the beams of righteousness and 
 hoHness in a man, manifests that he hath much 
 viewed the Sun of Righteousness. He carries the 
 very image of Christ upon him, and the very beauties 
 of Christ about him. He looks like Christ, speaks 
 like Christ, walks like Christ, lives like Christ, and 
 knows that he comes from Christ. Always be- 
 holding the glory of the Lord, he is changed into 
 the same image from glory to glory. If distant, 
 dark, and reflexive views of Christ through a glass, 
 render a soul so glorious, what must the clear, di- 
 rect, and imTuediate views of, and fellowship with 
 Christ in heaven render it? We shall indeed be 
 like him, when we see him as he is. Our body 
 shall be like his, our soul like his, — our glory like 
 his, and our eternity like his, who is the God of 
 beauty, excellency, and sweetness, concord, happi- 
 ness, and eternity. Lord Jesus, let me now have 
 such clear views of thee by faith, and such sweet 
 enjoyments of thee, that hereafter I may not only be 
 
419 
 
 happy as thou art happy, but may likewise be holy, 
 as thou art holy. 
 
 96. The life of faith is the noblest, pleasantest, 
 richest, contentedest, easiest, and truest life on earth. 
 It is the noblest life, for it takes the soul out of the 
 house of fallen Adam, and carries it into the family 
 of God. It makes her forget her father's house, 
 and espouseth her to the King of glory. It is the 
 pleasantest life; it lives upon the choicest excellency, 
 and highest felicity, often wrapt up to the third hea- 
 ven, to take its repast in inexpressible glory; it 
 walks in the paths of pleasantness, and under all the 
 heats and troubles of life, shades itself under the 
 tree of life. It is the richest life. If our desires 
 be according to our wants, it is impossible that we 
 can want any good thing. Whatsoever we ask, 
 beHeving that we receive, according to our faith, so 
 it is unto us. It is the most contented life. It 
 carries the fading creature, and lays him upon 
 Christ; and, under all changes, holds fast God's all- 
 sufficiency, and so sits down contentedly. It is the 
 easiest life. As faith looks not on the strictness or 
 difficulty of duty, but on the power and strength of 
 Christ; if it meet with a hard precept, it dissolves 
 into a sweet promise, carries it to a living Christ, 
 and pleads it, till he confer proportionable strength 
 to make the duty easy. In fine, it is the truest 
 and onliest life. He is dead in sin, that doth not 
 live by faith. Not to live, but to live well is life. 
 Not to live well only, but to believe, is to live, and 
 to live well indeed. 
 
 97. If God be the highest perfection in himself, 
 and the highest good to the creature, it must be the 
 
4^0 
 
 highest wisdom of man to choose him, and the highest 
 piece of his duty to live in observance of him. If 
 all creatures must be judged by his great majesty, 
 and must bow before him, I admire the wisdom of 
 the godly, and wonder at the folly of the wicked. 
 In the full persuasion of these things. Lord, let me 
 be of them that choose thee here, so as to enjoy 
 thee hereafter; not of those that refuse thee here, 
 and therefore must be for ever separated from thee 
 hereafter. 
 
 98. Saving graces are the very courtiers of hea- 
 ven, which wait upon Christ in his privy chamber. 
 Riches, honours, credit, and the like, may do much 
 below, and even keep out their betters; but in the 
 palace of the King of glory, they must stand aside 
 for ever. Even what men call moral virtues, must 
 stand without. Only faith, love, humility, and the 
 like, can be admitted into the presence chamber. 
 Beautiful abominations, and base hearts wrapped up 
 in fine clothes, parts and gifts, must stand at the 
 gate. But none but true grace and holiness, shall 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven. Only these are 
 welcome to the King of glory. Only these are 
 familiar with Jesus Christ. And, O Redeemer, 
 happy are those thy servants, which stand con- 
 tinually before thee, and hear thy wisdom, and see 
 thy glory ! True love doth not only preserve every 
 heavenly motion of the soul; but raiseth it to the 
 highest perfection. The more I love, the more I 
 shall be loved, and have the more full participation 
 of him, who is altogether lovely. To love the chief 
 good to the highest, is the greatest happiness. 
 The purest and fullest love shall for ever wear the 
 
421 
 
 weightiest crown of glory. Lord, perfect this grace 
 in me, that I may be perfect in loving thee for ever. 
 
 99. The Israelites had to pass through Jordan 
 before they landed in Canaan. The ark of the 
 Lord carried before them divided its high swollen 
 stream, and made it stand as an heap, till they were 
 clean passed over. Every believing traveller through 
 the wilderness of this world, must pass through death 
 before he land in heaven. Blessed be God, that 
 Jesus, our high priest, that bears the everlasting 
 covenant on his shoulders, hath already dipt his feet 
 in this water, in so much that its stream is divided, 
 the sting of death plucked out, and the power of the 
 curse cut off, so that death is a sure step into eternal 
 glory. — Why then am I afraid to die? The chan- 
 nel is dry. I see my Saviour's footsteps in the 
 bottom, and eternal happiness on the other side. 
 The waters may go over my sins, — they may go 
 over my miseries and troubles; but cannot go over 
 my soul, but afford it a safe passage to its rest. 
 Lord Jesus, therefore fit and sanctify me for my re- 
 moval, and then take down my tent. I cannot be 
 too soon with thee. 
 
 100. Here our souls, our desires are too capacious 
 to be filled with all the pleasures and delights which 
 the world can lay together. But hereafter, our 
 pleasures and delights shall be too full for the most 
 capacious vessels to comprehend; our glory shall be 
 so great, that God's power, as well as his goodness, 
 must necessarily renew and enlarge these souls, to 
 render them capable to receive and retain that glory. 
 His strength and love must jointly act in preparing 
 and raising our dispositions, that they may be suit- 
 
422 
 
 able for such a transcendent and high condition. 
 God must bear us up, that we may bear our weight 
 of glory. And because our joys cannot fully enter 
 into us, we shall enter into them. Why then set a soul 
 under a few drops of carnal pleasure, and neglect the 
 spring and spouts of everlasting pleasure? — What 
 glorious day, when the vessels of mercy shall be cast 
 into the ocean of mercy, and filled to the brim with 
 it; when the sons of true pleasure shall drink their 
 fill, and for ever restfully swim in rivers of pleasures 
 at God's right hand; when the soul that is sick of 
 love, shall lie in the bosom of love, and for ever 
 take its fill of love; when the children of God shall 
 be for ever satisfied with the immediate views and 
 full enjoyment of God. — the fulness, sweetness, and 
 eternity of which no heart of man can comprehend ! 
 Lord, let the views of that joy and glory which thou 
 hast prepared for me in heaven, turn away my soul 
 from all the carnal delights and pleasures presented 
 to me on earth, that so, neglecting them, I may be 
 still pressing to thee, and breathing after thee. " O 
 when shall I come and appear before God?" 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Printed by W. Collins & Co. 
 Glasgow. 
 
Princeton Theological Semmary-Spee 
 
 1012 01150 9116