3 V — ^ 
 
 |theological seminary,! 
 
 % Princeton, N. J., ff 
 
 BV 4501 .S37 1833 
 
 ^■~<* 7T^9^ 
 
 Serle, Ambrose, 1742-1812. 
 ' The Christian remembrancer 
 
\. . 
 
SELECT 
 CHRISTIAN AUTHORS, 
 
 WITH 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS. 
 
 N° 9. 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN 
 REMEMBRANCER. 
 
 BY 
 
 AMBROSE SERLE, Esq. 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' HORiE SOLITARY,' ' THE CHURCH OF GOD,' &C. 
 
 WITH 
 
 AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, 
 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH. 
 SIXTH EDITION. 
 
 GLASGOW: 
 
 PRINTED FOR WILLIAM COLLINS; 
 
 OLIVER & BOYD, WM. WHYTE & CO. AND WM. OLIPHANT, EDINBUR8H; 
 
 W. F. WAKEMAN, AND WM. CURRY, JUN. & CO. DUBLIN ; 
 
 WHITTAKER, TREACHER, & ARNOT ; HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. 
 
 AND SIMPKIN & MARSHALL, LONDON. 
 
 MD.CCC.XXXIII. 
 
Printed by W. Collins 3k Co. 
 Glasgow. 
 
■BI 
 
 TRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 It is quite possible that a doctrine may at one time 
 have been present to our minds, to the evidence of 
 which we then attended, and the truth of which we 
 did in consequence believe ; and yet, in the whole 
 course of our future thoughts, may it never again 
 have occurred to our remembrance. This is quite 
 possible of a doctrine in science ; and it may also be 
 conceived of a doctrine in theology, that on one day 
 it may have been the object of faith, and never on 
 any succeeding day be the object of memory. In 
 this case, the doctrine, however imnjprtant, and though 
 appertaining to the very essence of the Gospel, is of 
 no use. It is not enough that we have received the 
 Gospel, we must stand in it. And it is not enough 
 that we barely believe it, for we are told, on the 
 highest authority, that unless we keep it in memory, 
 we have " believed in vain." 
 
 This may lead us to perceive that there is an error 
 in the imaginations of those who think, that, after 
 having understood and acquiesced in Christian truth, 
 there is an end of all they have to do with it. There 
 is, with many, a most mischievous repose of mind 
 
VI 
 
 upon this subject. They know that by faith they 
 are saved, and they look to the attainment of this 
 faith, as a terminating good, with the possession of 
 which, could they only arrive at it, they would be 
 satisfied ; and they regard the articles of a creed in 
 much the same light that they do the articles of a 
 title-deed, which may lie in their repository for years, 
 without once being referred to ; and they have the 
 lurking impression, that if this creed were once fairly 
 lodged among the receptacles of the inner man, and 
 only produced in the great day of the examination of 
 passports, it would secure their entry into heaven — 
 just as the title-deed in possession, though never 
 once looked to, guarantees to them a right to all that' 
 is conveyed by it. The mental tablet on which are 
 inscribed their articles of belief, is consigned, as it 
 were, to some place of concealment within them, 
 where it lies in a kind of forgotten custody, instead 
 of hanging out to the eye of the mind, and there 
 made the subject of busy and perpetual observation. 
 It is not like a paper filled with the principles and 
 standing rules of a court, and to which there must be 
 a daily reference, for the purpose of daily procedure 
 and regulation. It is more, to make use of a law 
 term, like a paper in retentis — perhaps making good 
 to them certain privileges which never will be ques- 
 tioned, or ready to be produced on any remote and 
 distant occasion, when such a measure may be called 
 for. Now this is a very great misconception ; and 
 whenever we see orthodoxy contentedly slumbering 
 over its fancied acquisitions, and resting securely upon 
 the imagination that all its business is now settled 
 
Vll 
 
 and set by, we may be very sure that it is something. 
 like this which lies at the bottom of it. 
 
 To rectify this wrong imagination, let it never be 
 forgotten, that every where in the Bible, those truths, 
 by the belief of which we are saved, have this efficacy 
 ascribed to them, not from the mere circumstance of 
 their having once been believed, but after they are 
 believed, from the circumstance of their being con- 
 stantly adverted to. The belief of them on the one 
 hand is indispensable ; for let this be withheld, and 
 the habitual recurrence of the mind to them is of no 
 more use, than would be its constant tendency to 
 dwell on such fancies as it knew to be chimerical. 
 But this habitual recurrence is just as indispensable, 
 for let this be withheld, and the belief of them were 
 of no more use, than would be that of any other 
 salutary truth, forgotten as to the matter of it, and 
 therefore utterly neglected as to its application. The 
 child who is told of his father's displeasure, should 
 he spend that hour in amusement which is required 
 to be spent in scholarship, may believe this at the time 
 of the announcement. But when the hour comes, 
 should the intimation slip from his memory, he has 
 believed in vain. And from the apostle's declara- 
 tion, who assures us, that unless we keep the truth 
 in memory we have believed in vain, may we gather 
 what that is which forms the true function and de- 
 sign of the faith that is unto salvation. It is not 
 that, by the bare possession of the doctrines which it 
 appropriates as so many materials, salvation may be 
 purchased; it is that by the use to which these ma- 
 terials are put, we may come into a state of salvation. 
 
viii 
 
 It is not that truths lying in a state of dormancy 
 within us, form so many titles in our behalf to the 
 purchased inheritance : it is that truths ever present to 
 the waking faculties of our mind, (and they never can 
 be so without being remembered,) have an influence 
 and a power to make us meet for the inheritance. 
 
 On this important truth, so indispensable to secure 
 the saving and salutary influence of the other truths 
 of Christianity, when known and believed, we shall 
 make three observations. The first regards the kind 
 of effort that should be made, either by an inquirer 
 or a Christian, in the business of prosecuting his 
 salvation. The second regards the nature of that 
 salvation. And the third regards the power of the 
 truth, when summoned into the mind's presence by 
 an act of recollection, to keep it in that right train, 
 both of purpose and desire, which prepares and carries 
 it forward to the enjoyment of heaven. 
 
 I. With regard to the kind of effort that should 
 be made by an inquirer, he does not, we will venture 
 to say, set earnestly out in quest of salvation, without 
 its coming primarily and prominently into his notice, 
 that he is saved by faith. And hence very often a 
 straining of the mind after this acquirement — an 
 anxious endeavour to believe — a repeated attempt to 
 grasp that truth, by the possession of which it is, that 
 we obtain a right to life everlasting ; and as the ac- 
 companiment of all this, a frequent work of inward 
 search and contemplation, to try if that principle be 
 there, on which there hinges so important a consum- 
 mation as the favour of God, and the forgiveness of 
 all trespasses. Now it is worth the remarking, on 
 
IX 
 
 this subject, that there is no such thing as forcing 
 the belief of the mind beyond what it sees of proof 
 and evidence. We may force the mind to attend to 
 a matter; or we may force it to conceive that matter; 
 or we may force it to persevere in thinking and in 
 dwelling upon it : but beyond the light of evidence 
 you cannot force it to any kind of belief about it. 
 Faith is not to be arrived at in this way ; and we can 
 no more command the mind to see that to be truth 
 on which the light of evidence does not shine, than 
 we can command the eye to behold the sun through 
 a dark impalpable cloud, that mantles it from human 
 observation. Should a mountain intervene between 
 cur eye and some enchanting scene that lies on the 
 other side of it, it is not by any piercing or penetra- 
 tive effort on the part of the eye, through this solid 
 opaque mass, that we will obtain the sight after which 
 we are aspiring. And yet there is a way of obtain- 
 ing it. A mere effort of the eye will not do ; but 
 the effort of ascending the mountain will do. And, 
 in like manner, a mere straining of the mind after 
 any doctrine, with a view to apprehend it, will never, 
 without the light of evidence, bring that doctrine into 
 the discernment of the mind's eye. But such is the 
 proclaimed importance of belief, as carrying in it an 
 escape from ruin everlasting, and a translation into 
 all the security of acceptance with God, that, to the 
 acquisition of it, the effort of an inquirer is most 
 naturally bent : and he is apt to carry this effort be- 
 yond the evidence ; and the effort to behold beyond 
 evidence is of a nature so fruitless and fatiguing, 
 that it harasses the mind, just as any overstretch 
 a3 
 
does toward that which, after all, is an impossibility. 
 And yet there is a line of effort that is productive* 
 There is a path along which the light of evidence 
 will dawn ; and that which is impossible to be seen 
 without it, will be seen by it ; and that, too, without 
 distortion or unnatural violence upon the faculties. 
 We are bidden seek the " pearl of great price," and 
 there must be a way of it. It is quite obvious, and 
 not at all impracticable, to read the Bible with at- 
 tention, and to wait upon ordinances, and to give 
 vent to the desirousness of our hearts in prayer, and 
 to follow conscience in the discharge of all known 
 duties — and the truth which is unto salvation, and 
 by the knowing and believing of which we acquire 
 everlasting life, a truth that never can be seen while 
 an opaque and impenetrable shroud is upon it, will 
 at length break out into open manifestation. It 
 does not do to be so urged by a sense of the neces- 
 sity of faith, as to try the impracticability of making 
 faith outrun the evidence. But it does well to be 
 at the post, and along the path of inquiry and exer- 
 tion, where it is promised that the light of this evi- 
 dence will be made to shine upon us. If we keep 
 by our duties and our Bibles, like the apostles who 
 kept by Jerusalem till the Holy Ghost was poured 
 upon them, there is not one honest seeker who will 
 not, in time, be a sure and triumphant finder. And 
 we ou^ht to commit ourselves in confidence to this 
 course, assured of the prosperous result that must 
 come out of it. We ought not to be discomposed 
 by our anxieties about the final attainment. Though 
 the alternative of our heaven or hell hang upon the 
 
XI 
 
 issues of our seeking to be justified by faith, still we 
 ought not to try and toil to make our faith outrun 
 the light of conviction. It should be our great en- 
 couragement, that it is not merely he who has found 
 the Lord that is called upon to rejoice, but that it is 
 said by the Psalmist, " Let the heart of them rejoice 
 that seek the Lord." " Ask, and ye shall receive: 
 seek, and ye shall find : knock, and it shall be opened 
 unto you." 
 
 Let us now conceive that the truth is gotten — 
 that faith, which has been called, and aptly enough 
 too, the hand of the mind, has appropriated and 
 brought it within the grasp and possession of a be- 
 liever, the question comes to be, How is this new 
 acquisition to be disposed of? We may be sensible 
 how often truths come to be known and believed by 
 us, and how some of them perhaps have died away 
 from our memory, and never been recalled : and yet 
 we may be said to be in possession of them, for, upon 
 their bare mention, we will instantly recognise them 
 as doctrines we have already learned, and with the 
 truth of which, at the time that we attended to their 
 evidence, we were abundantly satisfied. Now, is it 
 by such a possession of Christian truth that we will 
 secure a part in the Christian salvation ? It is not. 
 It is not by first importing it into our conviction, and 
 then consigning it to some by-corner of the mind, 
 where it lies in a state of oblivion and dormancy, — 
 it is not thus, that our knowledge of God and of 
 Jesus Christ becomes life everlasting. The truths 
 which be unto salvation are not laid past like the for- 
 gotten acquisitions of science or scholarship. And 
 
Xll 
 
 we are wrong if we think, that just as the title-deeds 
 of an earthly house in possession may be locked up 
 in security, and never looked to but when the right 
 of property is questioned — so our creed, with all its 
 articles, may be laid up in the depository of our mind, 
 and there lie in deep and undisturbed repose, till our 
 right of entry into the house that is not made with 
 hands, and is eternal in the heavens, comes under 
 examination, among the other topics of the great day 
 of inquiry. We do not think it possible that the 
 essential truths of the gospel can be actually believed, 
 without being afterwards the topic of daily, and un- 
 ceasing, and practical recurrence. But even though 
 they could, they would, upon such an event, be of 
 no influence towards the salvation of the believer. 
 The apostle tells us expressly, if they are not kept 
 in memory they are believed in vain. By the gos- 
 pel we are saved, not if we merely believe it, but 
 if we keep it in memory. It is not enough that it 
 have been once acquiesced in: it must ever, and 
 through the whole futurity of our earthly existence, 
 be habitually adverted to. It is not enough that it 
 be sleeping in the mind's hidden repository : it must 
 be in the mind's eye. It must be kept in remem- 
 brance ; and that too, for the purpose of being called 
 to remembrance. It is not enough that it be in 
 the mind's latent custody: it must be in constant 
 waiting, as it were, for being summoned into the 
 mind's presence — and its efficacy unto salvation, it 
 would appear, consists not in the mind knowing it, 
 but in the mind thinking of it. 
 
 This will be better illustrated by a particular truth. 
 
Xlll 
 
 One of those truths to which the apostle alludes, as 
 being indispensable to be kept in memory, in order 
 to be of any efficacy, is, that Christ died for our sins. 
 It is not enough then, it would appear, simply to have 
 believed that Christ died for our sins. This fact 
 must ever and anon be recalled to our memory. It 
 is by no means enough, that we, at one time, were 
 sure of this truth. It is a truth that must be dwelt 
 upon. It is not to be thrown aside as a forgotten 
 thing, which at one time gave entertainment to our 
 thoughts. It must live in our daily recollections. It 
 is not enough that we have taken hold of this depen- 
 dence. We must keep hold of it : nor does faith 
 even in this save us, unless that which is believed 
 be the topic of ever recurring contemplation. 
 
 For this purpose, the habit of a great and conti- 
 nuous effort on the part of the human mind is indis- 
 pensable. We know how all the truths of Chris- 
 tianity, and this one among the number, are apt to 
 slip from the attention ; and what a combat with the 
 tendencies of nature it takes to retain our hold of 
 them. It is setting us to a work of great difficulty 
 and great strenuousness, simply to bid us keep in 
 memory the truths of that gospel by which we are 
 saved. They may have entered our mind with the 
 force of all-powerful evidence — and they may have 
 filled it with a sense of their supreme importance — 
 and they may have ministered, in the hour of silence 
 and devotion, an influence to relieve, and to com- 
 fort, and to elevate — and yet, after all, will we find 
 it a mighty struggle with the infirmities of our con- 
 stitution, to keep these truths in memory all the day 
 
XIV 
 
 long. We will find, that, among the urgencies of 
 this world's business, the one and simple truth, that 
 Christ died for our sins, will take its flight for hours 
 together, and never once be presented to the mind, 
 even in the form of a slight and momentary visita- 
 tion. To be ever recurring to this truth — to give it 
 an hourly place, along with the multitude of other 
 thoughts that are within us — to turn it into a matter 
 of habitual occupation for that mind, the property of 
 which, throughout all the moments of its waking ex- 
 istence, is to be ever thinking — this is an enterprise 
 in every way as arduous as to work against the cur- 
 rent of nature. It is not laying upon us a task that 
 is either easy or insignificant, when we are told to 
 keep the essentials of the gospel in our frequent re- 
 membrance. It is the experience of all who have 
 honestly tried it, that it is exceedingly difficult — and 
 yet, so far from a matter of insignificance, it is the 
 averment of the apostle, that if we keep not the 
 gospel in memory, we will not be saved. 
 
 We know it to be a work of difficulty, for a man 
 overcome with drowsiness to keep his eyes open. 
 Suppose that, by so doing, he is only made to look 
 on a set of objects which offend and disturb him, we 
 may readily conceive how gladly, in these circum- 
 stances, he will make his escape from the hateful 
 imagery which surrounds him, by repairing to the 
 sweet oblivion of nature. But, on the other hand, 
 should his eyes, when open, have a scene of loveli- 
 ness before them, by which the soul is regaled, and 
 brightened into sensations that are every way agree- 
 able, then, though an effort be necessary to keep 
 
XV 
 
 himself awake, yet there is a better chance of the 
 effort being actually made. There will be a reward 
 and an enjoyment to go along with it; and the man, 
 in these new circumstances, would both be in a state 
 of pleasurable feeling, and, at the same time, in a 
 constant struggle to maintain his wakefulness. How- 
 ever delightful the prospect that is before him, this 
 will not supersede the necessity of a strenuous en- 
 deavour to keep himself in the posture of observa- 
 tion. And so of the mind's eye, in the mental 
 scenery that is before it. Under all the stir, and 
 activity, and delight of nature's movements, may the 
 soul be profoundly immersed in the slumbers of na- 
 ture's carnality. It may be spiritually asleep, even 
 when busily engaged with the passing insignificant 
 dreams of our present world. It is indeed a great 
 transition on every son and daughter of our species, 
 when he becomes awake to the realities of faith, and 
 is made to perceive the existence and the weight of 
 things invisible. But if all that he is made thus to 
 perceive, be the dark and menacing imagery of terror 
 — if he see nothing but God's holiness on the one 
 hand, and his own sinfulness on the other — if, on 
 looking to the sanctuary above, he see nothing but 
 the fire of a devouring jealousy in readiness to go 
 forth over the whole region of disloyalty to heaven's 
 law ; and, on looking to himself, he see that he is 
 within the limits of the territory of guilt, and liable 
 to the doom that is in reserve for it, we may per- 
 ceive the readiness with which many a half-awakened 
 sinner will try to make his escape from the pain and 
 the agitation of such frightful contemplations as 
 
XVI 
 
 these ; and how gladly he will cradle his soul back 
 again into its old insensibility, and find a refuge from 
 the whole alarm of faithful sermons, and arousing 
 providences, and constantly recurring deaths in the 
 circle of his much-loved acquaintanceship, in the for- 
 getfulness of a nature, which, by its own drowsiness, 
 may be so easily lulled into a state of unconcern 
 about these things. The man will not, if he can 
 help it, make an effort to keep himself awake, if all 
 he get by it is a spectacle of pain : if he get a spec- 
 tacle of pleasure by it, he may be prevailed upon. 
 Still, even in this latter case, an effort would be ne- 
 cessary : even after the dread representation of the 
 law is succeeded by the bright and cheering repre- 
 sentation of the gospel, it will still be like the offer- 
 ing of a beauteous and inviting spectacle to the eyes 
 of a man who is like to be overcome with drowsiness. 
 There must be a sustained endeavour, on his part, to 
 keep himself awake. He will ever and anon be re- 
 lapsing into the slumbers of worldly and alienated 
 nature, if he do not put forth a strenuousness on the 
 object of keeping the truths of the gospel in his 
 memory. So long as he is encompassed with a vile 
 body of sin and infirmity, which will at length be 
 pulverized by death, and transformed at the resur- 
 rection, there will be a struggle with the sleeping 
 propensities that will still be about him, towards the 
 things that are unseen and spiritual. Great will be 
 his pleasure, even here, in the objects of his believing 
 contemplation : but great also must be the effort of 
 painful and unceasing diligence to support the con- 
 templation itself. He will just be like a drowsy spec- 
 
XVII 
 
 tator, with a fine and fascinating landscape before 
 him, the charm of which he would like to prolong to 
 the uttermost. And however engaging the pros- 
 pect which the gospel sets before him, however cheer- 
 ing the promises, however effectually the truth that 
 Christ died for our sins, chases away all the fears of 
 the law, when it proclaims, that for every sin that 
 the creature has dared to perpetrate, a holy and an 
 avenging God must be satisfied ; still we mistake it, 
 if we think that no effort on the part of the mind is 
 necessary to detain, within the reach of its vision, this 
 bright and beautiful representation. Though called 
 to rejoice in the Lord alway, yet there must be a 
 putting forth of strength and of vigilance in the 
 work of looking unto Jesus, and of considering him 
 who is the Apostle and High Priest of our profession. 
 II. The nature of that salvation which the gospel 
 reveals, has been so fully exhibited by Mr. Serle, 
 in the First Part of this excellent Treatise, as to 
 render any lengthened exposition of it in this place 
 unnecessary. But it is worthy of remark, that, per- 
 haps, there is not a passage in the Bible more fitted 
 to instruct us in what the salvation of Christianity 
 really is, than the expression of the apostle, to which 
 we have so frequently adverted, that unless we keep 
 the truths of the gospel in memory, we have believed 
 in vain. The ordinary conception upon the subject 
 is, that it is a rescue from hell, with a right of entry 
 and admittance into heaven. And our faith is sup- 
 posed to be our title-deed ; a passport of conveyance, 
 upon the examination of which we are carried in the 
 train of our Saviour and our Judge to paradise ; a 
 
xvin 
 
 thing, we fear, apprehended by many to be of no 
 other use than merely to be retained in a sort of se- 
 cure keeping, that, when found in our possession on 
 the last day, it may then be sustained as our claim 
 to the promised inheritance of glory. Now the 
 apostle tells us, that were it possible to believe the 
 truth without being mindful of the truth, the belief 
 is in vain : in other words, its main use to salvation 
 does not lie in the possession of it then, but in the 
 influence and operation of it now. When placed 
 before the judgment-seat of Christ, it will be known 
 whether we are of the faith ; and there is no doubt 
 that this faith will open the door of heaven's king- 
 dom to all who possess it. But, let it well be under- 
 stood, that this is not the alone, nor even the most 
 important function of faith. It does not lie in use- 
 less reserve on this side of time, till the occasion 
 comes round, when on the other side of time, it will 
 vest us with a right of admittance into heaven. Its 
 main operation is our good here, by the thing which 
 has been believed being also the thing that is remem- 
 bered. Were its only use to confer a title upon us, 
 it might lie in store like an old charter, forgotten for 
 years, but securing its purpose whenever there is a 
 call for its production. But it has another use be- 
 sides conferring a title ; it confers a character. It 
 does something more than cause the place to be made 
 ready for us : it causes us to be made ready for the 
 place. We believe in vain unless we remember : 
 but it is the habitual advertency of the mind to the 
 great truths of the gospel — it is the unceasing re- 
 currence of its thoughts to them — it is the practice 
 
XIX 
 
 of ever and anon calling them to consideration, and 
 dwelling upon them from one day, and from one 
 hour, to another — it is this which appears to stamp 
 upon faith its main efficacy towards salvation. And 
 why? Because salvation lies in deliverance from 
 sin, as well as from punishment — because salvation 
 consists in being introduced to the character of hea- 
 ven, as well as into heaven itself — because by salva- 
 tion there is not merely the prospect of another habi- 
 tation, but there is the working of another principle : 
 and the way in which the memory must be added to 
 faith, else we have believed in vain, is, that the 
 memory, by calling the truths of the gospel into the 
 mind's presence, reiterates upon the mind a moral and 
 a sanctifying influence, which would be altogether 
 unfelt if these truths were forgotten. It is because 
 the memory perpetuates the flame which was first 
 lighted by the faith of Christianity — it is because if 
 faith work by love, then the memory is necessary to 
 the alimenting of this holy affection ; and if it be one 
 use of faith to justify the sinner in the sight of God, 
 a no less important use of faith, is, that through a 
 habitual remembrance of the truths that are the ob- 
 jects of it, the sinner is brought under the constant 
 operation of a moral influence, by which he is sanc- 
 tified and made meet for the inheritance. 
 
 III. The truths to which the apostle adverts, when 
 he assures us, that unless we keep them in memory we 
 have believed in vain, are, that Christ died for our 
 sins, according to the Scriptures ; and that, after he 
 was buried, he rose a^ain. Let the first truth be 
 habitually present to the mind, and the mmd will feel 
 
XX 
 
 itself habitually lightened of the whole terror and 
 bondage of legality. That weight of overhanging 
 despair, which, in fact, represses every attempt at 
 obedience, by making it altogether hopeless, will be 
 taken off from the wearied spirit, and it will break 
 forth with the full play of its emancipated powers on 
 the free and open space of reconciliation. There is 
 nothing that so chains the inactivity of a human being 
 as hopelessness. There is nothing that so paralyzes 
 him, as the undefined, but haunting insecurity and 
 terror, which he cannot shake away. We must be 
 sensible of the new spring that is given to the ener- 
 gies of him who is overwhelmed with debt, when he 
 obtains his discharge. So long as he felt that all 
 was irrecoverable, he did nothing : but when he gets 
 his enlargement, he runs with the alacrity of a new- 
 acquired freedom in the path of industry. Now, in 
 the spiritual life, it is this very enlargement which 
 gives rise to this very activity. It is the glad tidings 
 of a release, by Him who hath paid the ransom of 
 our iniquities, that sets our feet in a sure place — 
 that opens up to us a career of new obedience — 
 that levels the barrier which keeps us without hope, 
 and therefore without God in the world — that places 
 us, as it were, in a free and unobstructed avenue, in 
 which, by every step that we advance upon it, we 
 draw nearer to that Jerusalem above, the gates of 
 which are now thrown open to receive us. The real 
 effect of the doctrine of Jesus Christ and him cruci- 
 fied, upon the believer, is utterly the reverse of this 
 world's imagination upon the subject. It does not 
 beget the delusion in his mind of an impunity for 
 
XXI 
 
 sinning; but it chases away that heavy soporific from 
 his moral faculties, which the sense of a broken law, 
 when unaccompanied by the faith of an offered gospel, 
 will ever minister to the heart ; that let him struggle 
 as he may, and keep as strenuously from sinning as 
 he may, it will be of no use to him. The truth that 
 Christ died for our sins, so far from a soporific, is a 
 stimulus to our obedience ; and it is when this truth 
 enters with power into the heart, that the believer 
 can take up the language of the Psalmist and say, 
 " Thou hast enlarged my heart, and I will now run 
 in the way of thy testimonies." 
 
 But if such be the influence of this truth when 
 present to the mind, it must, in order to have a ha- 
 bitual influence, be habitually present. In order to 
 work upon the habit and character of the soul, it 
 must ever be offering itself to the notice, and ever 
 reiterating the impulse it is fitted to give to all the 
 feelings, and to all the faculties. We know not a 
 single doctrine, which, by its perpetual recurrence 
 to the thoughts, is more fitted to keep the mind in 
 a right state for obedience. Now, in order that the 
 great work of sanctification go forward, the mind 
 should be constantly in this state. Let this truth 
 be expunged, and, for all the purposes of spiritual 
 conformity to the will of God, the whole man will go 
 into unhingement. But let this truth be lighted up 
 in the soul — let it be kept shining at all times within 
 its receptacles — let the trust never cease to lean upon 
 it, and the memory never cease to recall it, and the 
 hope never cease to dwell upon it — let it only show 
 itself among the crowd of this world's turmoils and 
 
XXII 
 
 anxieties — and whatever the urgencies be, which 
 harass and beset a man on the path of his daily his- 
 tory, let such be the habit of his mind, that in obe- 
 dience to this truth, the thought is present with him 
 of his main chance being secured; the animating 
 sense of this will bear him on in triumph through 
 manifold agitations ; and when like to sink and give 
 way under the pressure of this world's weariness, and 
 this world's distraction, this will come in aid of his 
 faltering spirit, and carry him in sacredness and in 
 safety to his final landing-place. 
 
 We have not room to expatiate on the influence 
 of the other truth, that Christ rose again — that he 
 eyes every disciple from that summit of observation 
 to which he has been exalted — that the sin for which 
 he died he holds in irreconcilable hatred — and that 
 the purpose of his mediatorship was not merely to 
 atone for its guilt, but utterly to root out its exist- 
 ence and its power from the hearts of all who be- 
 lieve in him. The Christian who is haunted at all 
 hours of the day by this sentiment, will feel that to 
 sin is to thwart the purpose upon which his Saviour's 
 heart is set, and to crucify him afresh. This, how- 
 ever, to be kept in power, must be kept in memory. 
 And as with the former truth, if we carry it about 
 with us at all times, we will walk before God with- 
 out fear, so with it and the latter truth put together, 
 if both are carried about with us, will we also walk 
 before him in righteousness, aud in holiness, all the 
 days of our lives. 
 
 But it ought to be remembered, that if we are not 
 mindful of these truths, we positively do not believe 
 
XX11L 
 
 them. If we have not the memory, it is a clear evi- 
 dence that we have not the faith. It is impossible 
 but the mind must be always recurring to matters in 
 which it has a great personal interest, if it only have 
 a sense of their reality. We should try ourselves 
 by this test, and be assured, that if we are not going 
 on unto perfection, through the constant and prac- 
 tical influence of the great doctrines of Christianity 
 upon our heart, we need yet to learn " what be the 
 first principles of the oracles of God." 
 
 It is from these considerations that we estimate so 
 highly the following valuable Treatise of Mr. Serle, 
 i The Christian Remembrancer,' in which the 
 great and essential truths of Christianity are exhi- 
 bited in a luminous and practical manner. But it 
 is not merely those more essential truths of the gos- 
 pel, which form the foundation of a sinner's hope, 
 that he brings to our remembrance; the operative 
 nature of these truths, as inwardly experienced by 
 the believer, in the formation of the spiritual life — 
 the sanctifying influence of the Christian truth over 
 the affections and character of the believer — the 
 whole preceptive code of social and relative duties to 
 which, as members of society, Christianity requires 
 our obedience — in fine, the whole Christian system 
 of doctrines and duties is presented in a plain and 
 practical manner, well fitted to assist the understand- 
 ing in attaining a correct and intimate acquaintance 
 with the truths of Christianity ; while the brief, but 
 distinct and impressive form in which they are pre- 
 sented, is no less fitted to assist the memory in its 
 recollection of them. The Treatise, as the Author 
 
XXIV 
 
 remarks, is rather intended for hints to carry on the 
 mind to farther meditations, than for full and exact 
 meditations themselves ; and it is brought into narrow 
 compass, that the serious Christian may find it a little 
 remembrancer, with many short errands to his heart. 
 And as the reader, from our previous observations, will 
 not fail to remark, that it is not the mere knowledge 
 or possession of any truth, but the constant remem- 
 brance of it, which can give it an operative influence 
 over the mind, and make it issue in those practical 
 results which such a truth is fitted to produce — so, 
 however important those precious truths are which are 
 so clearly aud impressively presented in the following 
 Treatise, yet they can have no saving or salutary in- 
 fluence, without being kept in constant remembrance. 
 If it have not been our habit hitherto to call to 
 mind the essential truths of the gospel, we ought to 
 begin now, and by reason of use we will be sure to 
 make progress in it. Whether it be the work of an 
 artizan, or the work of a merchant, there is room for 
 this thought in short and frequent intervals — that 
 Christ died for our sins ; and we are confident that, 
 if we are believers, the thought will leave a pacifying 
 and a holy influence behind it. God has proclaimed 
 a connection between the presence of gospel truth to 
 the understanding, and the power of gospel affections 
 over the heart. He has told us that faith worketh 
 by love ; and we, by constantly recurring to the great 
 objects of faith, are putting that very instrument into 
 operation by which God sanctifies all those who have 
 received his testimony in behalf of Jesus Christ his 
 Son. 
 
XXV 
 
 If we receive the truths of Christianity, we are not 
 merely put in possession of them as title-deeds to a 
 blessed inheritance above, to be presented after death 
 for our entrance into heaven ; they are also instru- 
 ments to be made use of before death, for graving 
 upon us, as it were, the character of heaven. And 
 when the day of judgment comes, it is not by a direct 
 inspection of the title-deeds that our right to heaven 
 will be ascertained ; it is by the inspection of that 
 which has been engraven by the truths of Christi- 
 anity, operating as so many instruments upon our 
 character. Christ will look to the inscription that 
 has been made upon our hearts and lives ; so, while 
 nothing can be more true, than that it is by faith we 
 are justified, it is in fullest harmony with this truth, 
 that it is by works we are judged. 
 
 T. C. 
 
 Glasgow, November, 1823. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Dedication - , 
 Preface, 
 
 Page 
 33 
 35 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE WORD AND WORK OF GOD IN MAN S REDEMPTION 
 BY JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 1. The Entrance into Spiritual Life, 
 
 2. The Method of Mercy, 
 
 3. The Soul's Difficulty in Embracing Mercy, 
 
 4. The Nature and Exercise of Faith, 
 
 5. Communion with the Divine Persons in Jehovah, 
 
 6. The Incarnation of Christ, by which he became Em 
 
 manuel, 
 
 7. Christ's Descent into Egypt, 
 
 8. The Miracles of Christ, 
 
 9. The Word of Christ, 
 
 10. The Life of Christ, 
 
 11. The Death of Christ, 
 
 12. The Resurrection of Christ, 
 
 13. The Ascension of Christ, . 
 14 The Glorification of Christ, 
 
 15. The Intercession of Christ, 
 
 16. The Love of the Father, 
 
 17. The Love of the Spirit, . 
 
 18. The Work of the Spirit, 
 
 b2 
 
 39 
 41 
 43 
 45 
 
 48 
 
 50 
 52 
 54 
 57 
 6£ 
 65 
 68 
 71 
 74 
 75 
 78 
 80 
 83 
 
XXV111 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 19. The equal Obligation of Believers to the Three Persons 
 
 in Jehovah, ....... 86 
 
 20. The particular Design and Use of the several Holy 
 
 Scriptures, 88 
 
 21. The Recollection of the First Part in Prayer to God, 94 
 
 PART II. 
 
 THE INWARD AND PRACTICAL EXPERIENCE OF RE- 
 DEMPTION IN THE HEART OF THE BELEIVER. 
 
 1. On Unbelief, 101 
 
 2. How have I received Christ ? 104 
 
 3. How do I live upon Christ ? .... 107 
 
 4. On Self-seeking, 113 
 
 5. The different appearances of Grace in different Persons, 116 
 
 6. The Difference of Myself from Myself, . . .119 
 
 7. On Bridling the Tongue, 120 
 
 8. On False Appearances, 122 
 
 9. The Spirit of the World, 127 
 
 10. The Pride of the Heart, 128 
 
 11. Comparison between Carnal and Spiritual Wisdom, 131 
 
 12. On Independence, 136 
 
 13. Worldly Grandeur, . . . . . . 140 
 
 14. Worldly Company, 142 
 
 15. The Manners of the World are hurtful and hindering 
 
 to Believers, . 143 
 
 16. Conversation among Professors, .... 146 
 
 17. The changes of Time, ...... 149 
 
 18. The patient enduring of Wrongs, .... 153 
 
 19. On Prayer, 156 
 
 20. Singing Praises to God, 162 
 
 21. A Christian in losing his Life saves it, . . 166 
 
 22. The Opinion of Carnal Men, .... 170 
 
 23. The Esteem of Good Men, 171 
 
 24. Weakness is Impatient, 174 
 
CONTENTS. XXIX 
 
 Page 
 
 25. On Retirement, 175 
 
 26. The Fear of Man, 180 
 
 27. My own Imperfections, ...... 181 
 
 28. The Believer receives Food, as well as Light, in the 
 
 Word and Doctrines of Christ, .... 184 
 
 29. The Spirit of Scoffing, 187 
 
 30. It is a great point of Christian Wisdom to distinguish 
 
 well between Nature and Grace, . . . 188 
 
 31. On Temptations, 193 
 
 32. On Adversity, 199 
 
 33. On Prosperity, 201 
 
 34. Luxury indecent for Christians, .... 203 
 
 35. There are many first that shall be last, . . . 206 
 
 36. On Talents, 208 
 
 37. It is through Grace that all Ordinances are rightly used 
 
 and become beneficial, 215 
 
 3a The profitable Hearing of the Word, . . . 217 
 
 39. Declensions from God, 225 
 
 40. Sobriety of spirit, 226 
 
 41. Our Heart must be given to God, .... 228 
 
 42. On Self-Sufficiency, 2*9 
 
 43. Liberty of Soul, 232 
 
 44. On Sickness, 233 
 
 45. On Death 237 
 
 46. The Recollection of this Second Part in Prayer to God, 241 
 
 PART III. 
 
 THE BELIEVER'S OUTWARD CONVERSATION AND CON- 
 DUCT WITH OTHERS. 
 
 1. The real Christian loves his Country, and is therefore 
 
 the best of Patriots, 247 
 
 2. The real Christian is conscientiously a dutiful subject 
 
 to the King and his Government, . 250 
 
XXX CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 3. The real Christian will punctually obey the Laws of his 
 
 country, in every thing not opposite to the will and 
 
 word of God, 252 
 
 4. How a real Christian should conduct himself towards 
 
 the Church of God, 254. 
 
 5. The Reciprocal Duties of Ministers and People, . 257 
 
 6. Quarrels among Christians, 260 
 
 7. The Marriages of real Christians, and their Duties in 
 
 that state, 263 
 
 8. The Duty of Parents, 266 
 
 9. The Duty of Children, 268 
 
 10. The Duty of Christian Masters, .... 270 
 
 11. The Duty of Christian Servants, .... 272 
 
 12. The Christian's Duty in his Calling, . . . 275 
 
 13. That Duties are not to be measured by the success 
 
 which may follow them, but by the word of God only, 280 
 
 14s. The Deportment of a Christian to others, . . 281 
 
 15. The Christian's conduct to the tempted and distressed 
 
 in mind, 286 
 
 16. The Christian's conduct to Old Age, ... 289 
 
 17. The Christian's conduct to Youth, . . . 290 
 
 18. The Disposal of Property, 293 
 
 19. The Death of Relatives and Friends, ... 296 
 
 20. The Recollection of this Third Part in Prayer to God, 302 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN REMEMBRANCER. 
 
TO 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN REMEMBRANCE OF 
 
 JOHN THORNTON, Esquire, 
 
 Who, 
 
 Adorning the doctrine of God his Saviour, 
 
 In an almost unexampled degree, 
 
 By deeds of piety and benevolence, 
 
 Various, liberal, and extensive, 
 
 But without ostentation : 
 
 And who, 
 
 Imparting the means of spiritual instruction, 
 
 As well as temporal relief, 
 
 To multitudes of the ignorant and the poor, 
 
 In every quarter of the world, 
 
 By a fortune, though affluent, 
 
 Yet unequal to the vast desire of spreading good 
 
 Which possessed his mind; 
 
 Owned, amidst all, 
 
 That himself was a sinner, 
 
 Indigent and helpless; 
 
 And, resting no hope on what appeared, 
 
 To every eye but his own, 
 
 A long and astonishing course of excellent usefulness, 
 
 Cheerfully acknowledged, to his latest hour, 
 
 That by the Grace of God he was 
 
 Whatever he was, 
 
 Of faith, or holiness, or stability ; 
 
 Thus ascribing his whole title to salvation, 
 
 With all the things that accompany it, 
 
 In practice, prospect, and experience, 
 
 To the favour and mercy of 
 
 JEHOVAH, 
 
 FATHER, SON, AND SPIRIT, 
 
 In and through 
 
 THE GREAT REDEEMER; 
 
 This Treatise, 
 
 For a real though mean Memorial 
 
 Of mutual and disinterested friendship, 
 
 Never to perish, 
 
 Is very affectionately inscribed by 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 B3 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 This little Treatise is divided into Three Parts; 
 the first of which relates chiefly to the word and 
 work of God in the redemption of souls by Jesus 
 Christ; the second, to the inward and practical ex- 
 perience of this redemption in the heart of the be- 
 liever; and the third, to his outward conversation 
 and conduct with others. The addresses to God, 
 at the end of each part, may be read alone, or all 
 together, in their order, as one prayer. 
 
 On this wide and important subject, the reflections, 
 which might have been greatly multiplied, are brought 
 into as narrow a compass as possible, being intended 
 rather for hints to carry on the mind to further me- 
 ditations, than for full or exact meditations them- 
 selves. The Treatise, therefore, is printed for the 
 pocket, that the serious Christian may find it a little 
 Remembrancer, with many short errands to his heart, 
 which will neither encumber him to carry, nor fatigue 
 him to read. 
 
 As the Author humbly believes, that he has had 
 no other view in these reflections, which have em- 
 ployed some of his solitary hours, than the glory of 
 a gracious God, and the edification of believers, he 
 only requests, as one of the greatest favours he needs, 
 
36 
 
 that the pious reader will remember him, in return, 
 before the throne of grace ; that the things of which 
 he hath endeavoured to put others in remembrance, 
 may never be forgotten by himself, but be known, 
 experienced, and enjoyed, by him more and more. 
 The acquisition of many prayers on this account 
 from his Christian brethren, is of such value and im- 
 portance in his mind, as would make him a far higher 
 compensation indeed than he has a right to expect, 
 for these humble labours, which need the mercy and 
 favour of God, and the kindness and candour of 
 every good man. 
 
 November, 1786. 
 
PART I. 
 
 THE WORD AND WORK OF GOD IN MAN'S 
 REDEMPTION BY JESUS CHRIST. 
 
ntfj 
 
 CHRISTIAN REMEMBRANCER. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 On the Entrance into Spiritual Life. 
 
 " Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and 
 bow myself before the High God?" How shall I, 
 a sinner, approach the eyes of that Majesty, which 
 cannot look upon sin without abhorrence ? My ini- 
 quities are more in number than the hairs of my 
 head, and my heart sinketh within me on their re- 
 membrance. My affections are naturally all inclined 
 to the world and worldly things. My judgment is 
 depraved ; my will is perverse ; my understanding is 
 darkened; my knowledge vain; and I see nothing 
 within me or about me, but what by guilt is alto- 
 gether defiled. I have sure proof of that Scripture, 
 " that every imagination of the thoughts of man's 
 heart is only evil continually ;" and that " from the 
 sole of the foot, even to the head, there is Go sound- 
 ness" in my nature; but only "the wounds, and 
 bruises, and putrifying sores" of sin. 
 
40 
 
 How then can I please God? How shall such a 
 worm, such a lump of perverse ungodliness, obtain 
 his favour ? Shall I seek to deserve it by my own 
 good thoughts ? Alas ! I am not sufficient of my- 
 self to think even one. Shall I by excellency of 
 words approach my offended Maker? He regardeth 
 not words, but the spirit and the heart : and my spirit 
 and heart are wholly defiled. Shall I then by good 
 works attempt to render him propitious ? O my 
 God, where shall I find them ! How can I begin 
 to act, before I have begun to think what is right ? 
 How can the exercises of the body be pure and free, 
 when the soul is unholy, and enslaved by sin ? And 
 if, from this day, I could cease from evil, and do per- 
 fectly what is just and right, which the experience of 
 all men tells me to be impossible — yet what will be- 
 come of the long black catalogue of iniquities, both 
 in heart and life, which are already written against 
 me ? How shall I wipe off the sins of my nature 
 and my life, respecting the times that are past ? 
 
 O Lord, thou hast revealed thyself as a holy God 
 and a just. Thou hast declared that thou wilt not 
 spare the guilty. And I have offended thy right- 
 eous law, in every hour and every action of my life. 
 How then can I be saved ? How is it possible for 
 me to escape the wrath to come ? My anxieties, like 
 my sins, might justly overwhelm me, and I ought to 
 tremble at the righteous judgment, which I know I 
 deserve. There are but a few days at the most for 
 me to live upon earth ; and I am not sure of one. 
 
 how shall I flee from the wrath to come ! how shall 
 
 1 avoid eternal burnings, in which no man can dwell 
 
41 
 
 but with misery, and of which no man can think 
 strictly but with horror ! Lord, can such a sinner as 
 I escape ? Canst thou have mercy upon me ? 
 
 Such are the breathings of the heart, when it first 
 begins to awake, and live, and feel that there is an 
 evil and a curse in sin, and that sin, with all its evil, 
 lieth at the door. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 The Method of Mercy. 
 
 Such a flowing from the heart, as that just men- 
 tioned, gladdens all heaven. It is the new- creative 
 motion of the divine Spirit upon the troubled deep, 
 and will ere long produce both life and peace. 
 
 Soul, dost thou feel the power of thy own corrup- 
 tion ? Are these thy meek, yet bitter cries ? O 
 hear, and may thy God enable thee to believe, the 
 glad tidings of his own salvation ! 
 
 Thou art a sinner, it is true ; and thy mercy it is 
 to see, in due measure, how great a sinner thou art. 
 It is the first line in the large book of humiliation, 
 which thou must be reading all thy life long. But 
 Christ died for sinners such as thou art ; for all sin- 
 ners that come unto God by him ; for the vilest of 
 sinners that see and feel the vileness of sin, and be- 
 moan it, as thou dost. He saved Mary Magdalene 
 the harlot, Matthew the publican, Paul the persecu- 
 tor, Peter the swearer, liar, and denier of his Mas- 
 
42 
 
 ter, the malefactor on the cross, who had been a thief 
 and a murderer, and ten thousand more like these ; 
 and he hath just the same power, and means, and 
 mercy, to save thy soul, even thine. 
 
 He saves graciously, that is, freely: because no 
 wisdom nor worth of man have contrived, or could 
 have obtained, this greatness of salvation. It was 
 planned in grace, and performed by grace. It is all 
 of grace, and bounty, and love, from beginning to end. 
 
 For this purpose he came into the world and took 
 our nature upon him. He took it in its meanest 
 and humblest form ; and was content to be born in a 
 stable, to be brought up by a labouring man, to labour 
 with him too, to suffer the worst evils of human life, 
 and the sorest pains of human death, that so he might 
 be an oblation or sacrifice in the stead of his people, 
 and render an atonement to the justice of God for 
 them. These sufferings and this atonement are the 
 debt due to the law and holiness of God, without 
 which, consistently with his attributes, he could not 
 spare the sinner, but by which he can be both just, 
 and yet the Justifier of him who taketh refuge in 
 Jesus. Yea, this dear Saviour having paid the 
 penalty due to his transgressions, God is now faith- 
 ful and just to forgive him his sins, or rather, more 
 faithful and just to forgive them, than he could be 
 in laying on the punishment again, which Christ en- 
 dured in their behalf. 
 
 Christ also lived upon earth to fulfil all righteous- 
 ness ; and he fulfilled it completely for his redeemed. 
 He makes himself over to them; and all he hath is 
 theirs, through faith in his mediation. Thus they 
 
43 
 
 have a right to call him, what he is, " The Lord our 
 Righteousness." God is well pleased for his right- 
 eousness' sake, and beholds every poor sinner who 
 trusts in Christ, and lives in him, as unblameable and 
 unreprovable in his own most piercing sight, yea, 
 without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing. This 
 righteousness is that garment of salvation, which 
 covers the ransomed of the Lord wholly, and fits them 
 perfectly for the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 Contrite soul, believest thou this ? Is this good 
 news, the very gospel or good news of God ? Search 
 and see. Read and pray over thy Bible, and thou 
 wilt find, that it is the very voice and will of thy Lord. 
 O that the fallow, the hard and barren ground of 
 thy heart may be so broken up by his power, as to 
 welcome this joyful news, like the thirsty soul receiv- 
 ing showers from the skies ! 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Tlie Soul's Difficulty in Embracing Mercy. 
 
 " These are glad tidings indeed (the soul may 
 say) to one weary and heavy laden with sin as I am, 
 could they be apprehended rightly, and maintained 
 constantly, in the strivings of sin, and the doubtings 
 of nature. I am, therefore, earnest to know these 
 two things: — 1st, How shall I embrace this mercy 
 of Christ proposed in the gospel ? And, 2d, How 
 
44 
 
 shall I keep up the spirit and intentions of it in my 
 heart and life, so as to endure to the end, and be 
 saved ? 
 
 " I know not how it is with others, but I find 
 myself very unable, nay, most unable, when I have 
 the greatest occasion, to lay hold upon this mighty 
 mercy of God, and to rest upon it, and to make it 
 my own, and to use it for my consolation and sup- 
 port. I long for this with the full purpose of my 
 heart ; and my groans and tears in secret are well 
 known unto God. But I have also an evil heart of 
 unbelief, which suggests a thousand doubts and fears, 
 sometimes of God's willingness to save me particu- 
 larly, who am so very vile and faithless ; and some- 
 times of my own reality of desire towards him, which 
 is often dreadfully mixed with the care for other 
 things, and overwhelmed with anxieties and sorrows, 
 difficulties and temptations. O what great troubles 
 and adversities hath God shown me ! How shall I 
 be delivered from the body of this death ! How 
 shall I lay hold on eternal life ! How shall I know 
 that I have fast hold, or be assured that none shall 
 be able to pluck me from it ! O Lord, to be assured 
 of this thy favour, is, both in life and death, of more 
 worth to me than a thousand times ten thousand 
 worlds. — For I might have these, and be wretched ; 
 but, with thee, I have safety, yea, life and peace for 
 evermore." 
 
45 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The Nature and Exercise of Faith. 
 
 Faith is the gift and operation of God. It comes 
 by the Holy Spirit's power, moving and strengthen- 
 ing the sublimest faculties of the soul, and is really 
 a regeneration, a re-begetting, a revival of life from 
 the dead. Thus the believer is said to be " born of 
 the Spirit ;" because it is the Spirit's office in the 
 covenant of grace to regenerate ; and because it is 
 the promise concerning the Spirit to " all, even as 
 many as God shall call. And thus also, the Chris- 
 tian is said to be " born, not of blood, nor of the 
 will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. 
 
 When this principle of divine life and light is 
 given to the soul, it enables the soul to feel its own 
 loss and misery, and to see its own sin and darkness. 
 A man can have no true sight of the nature of sin 
 but by this grace. He is, therefore, in some sense, 
 a believer before he knows himself to be one. Faith 
 acts in him, before he can be sensible of the reflex act 
 of faith. He first lives ; and then he feels his misery; 
 and then he cries for mercy. He cries for mercy, 
 and then is enlightened to see the way of mercy in 
 the word of mercy. He is next enlightened to be- 
 hold the free welcome and rich bounty of this mercy 
 to all returning sinners. He is enabled to contem- 
 plate upon himself, and to view the fitness of God's 
 mercy for him, and his own fitness, as a needy con- 
 
46 
 
 vinced sinner, for it. He is then strengthened to era- 
 brace it, like a poor creature who must perish without 
 it, but who shall never perish with it. And, at length, 
 God's grace seals itself upon the soul, by giving a 
 true light to the mind, and a sweet taste of joy and 
 peace in believing ; insomuch that the broken, droop- 
 ing heart revives, and is able to say, " I do humbly 
 venture to believe that Christ died for me, and will 
 save me for evermore." 
 
 Now, through all the course of this gracious work, 
 which, according to the will of God is slower in some 
 than in others, there is often much doubting or dis- 
 puting in the man's own conscience. It is a sore 
 struggle, at times, to quell the clamours of unbelief, 
 and the suggestions of Satan ; and at last, perhaps, 
 the soul embraces the reality of God's love in Christ, 
 with a trembling kind of hopeless hope, and doubt- 
 ing believing. These things often puzzle the un- 
 derstanding, and perplex the whole will and affec- 
 tions. A true believer is like Rebecca labouring 
 with twins, a faithless Esau, and a trusting Jacob ; 
 and so, like her, he cries out, " If it be so, why am 
 I thus ?" Whereas, if it were not so, if he were 
 not of God, it could not be thus. Nature alone 
 would not struggle ; nor can what is dead strive 
 against the stream. The whole bent of nature is 
 against grace. So, again, if he were all grace and 
 no sin, he would feel no trouble ; for the opposition 
 of grace is made to nature and to the sin which is in 
 it. And it is a good sign, though not a pleasant 
 feeling, that there is this conflict ; it demonstrates 
 the life of God to be within. 
 
47 
 
 In this way the Christian embraces the gospel. 
 He is enabled in hope against hope to believe it, 
 as the grand charter of his salvation. And this very 
 act of believing is the evidence within, concurring 
 with the evidence of the written word without, that 
 his name is enrolled in the charter, and that he is 
 consequently entitled to all its blessings. 
 
 Take heart, therefore, thou child of God, and 
 fear not. Thou hast the promise, the power, the 
 mercy, and the truth of Jehovah on thy side ; and 
 who can prevail against him ? If thou dost not 
 wholly believe, or art not perfectly cleared from all 
 doubts, be not however dismayed. The faithfulness 
 of thy Lord is not grounded upon the perfect exer- 
 cise of thy faith, but upon his own sovereign grace 
 and love. Thou desiredst to trust him with thy 
 whole heart; but thou never couldst have desired 
 this, if he had not wrought that disposition within 
 thee. He was the Author, and he will be the 
 Finisher, of all in thee, as well as of all for thee. If 
 God did not spare his own Son for thy sake, what 
 will he spare beside ? Who shall, or who can, lay 
 any thing to the charge of God's elect ? It is God 
 himself, with whom there is neither evil nor folly, 
 that justifieth thee from both. Who can condemn 
 thee ? It is Christ who blotteth out thy sins by 
 his precious blood, or rather is risen again to present 
 thee faultless in his righteousness before the throne, 
 and to plead for thee as that Advocate who never 
 lost a cause. Who shall separate thee from the love 
 of Christ? Shall the evils of life, all the distresses 
 of time, all the rage of the devil ? Nay, in all these 
 
48 
 
 things thine almighty Saviour will render thee a con- 
 queror, and more than a conqueror, because he hath 
 loved thee. O divine words that follow ! From 
 thine inmost affections, from the very ardour and 
 spirit of faith, mayest thou breathe them forth ! — " I 
 am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, 
 nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
 things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other 
 creature, shall be able to separate me from the love 
 of God which is in Christ Jesus my Lord." 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 On Communion with the Divine Persons in Jehovah. 
 
 Curious speculations upon the Trinity profit not. 
 There is a sort of knowledge in this, as in other 
 things, which betrays its own falsehood by puffing 
 up the soul. Much time hath been lost, and many 
 hurtful disputes have been raised, concerning the 
 mode of the Son's generation from the Father, and 
 the manner of the Spirit's procession from both ; 
 points which have not been revealed, and which, 
 therefore, are not necessary to faith. It is sufficient 
 for us to apprehend, that there are three equal 
 Persons in one Jehovah, or self-existent Godhead, 
 and that this Godhead is one : that we are privi- 
 leged to have communion with these Divine Persons 
 in their several offices of salvation ; and that, by the 
 
49 
 
 unction of the Spirit, we come into the grace of the 
 Son, and possess the love of the Father, now and 
 for evermore. " Through Christ," says the apostle, 
 " we both," that is, Jews and Gentiles, " have an 
 access by one Spirit unto the Father." And thus, 
 " the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love 
 of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost," 
 are with all true believers in every age of the world. 
 He, therefore, that doth not thus apprehend the doc- 
 trine of the Trinity, only apprehendeth the phantom 
 of his own imagination, and is never the better for 
 his speculation, be it ever so abstruse or refined. 
 
 Of what avail to my soul are all the nicest dis- 
 quisitions of men? I want food and light, reality 
 and enjoyment. These do thy word, O Lord, af- 
 ford in plentiful measure, when thy grace opens the 
 well-spring to my heart. I am there taught to pray 
 for that anointing of the Holy One, which shall lead 
 and guide me into all thy saving truth. By him I 
 am both instructed, and enabled to renounce myself; 
 to put on Christ, and to cleave to my Redeemer as 
 my only portion and hope. By the Spirit and Son 
 of God, I am led up to fellowship with the Father, 
 and to call upon him as my Father, even mine. O 
 my blessed God, my Abba, my Father, my Life, and 
 my All, what hast thou revealed to my poor soul: 
 and how much more hast thou done and prepared 
 than thou hast hitherto revealed to men, or than men 
 in this state are able to conceive ! O thou Foun- 
 tain of unutterable blessedness, thou unfathomable 
 Height and Depth of love, help me thus to know 
 thee in the secret of my soul ; and may all thy works 
 C 9 
 
50 
 
 of providence and grace increase this inward know- 
 ledge to the end ! While others dispute, let me 
 enjoy. Manifest thy precepts to my mind, and say 
 to my longing spirit, " Peace be unto thee, for I am 
 thy salvation." 
 
 One spark of this life is of more worth than the 
 whole universe of notions; for this not only brings 
 an understanding of divine things superior to all 
 speculations, but gives with it a fulness of satisfac- 
 tion, arising from the very taste and perception of 
 the things themselves. Faith takes them for reali- 
 ties, hope is enkindled by them as such, and love finds 
 them to be so, and embraces them with joy to the end. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 On the Incarnation of Christ, by which he became 
 Emmanuel. 
 
 Who shall unfold this mystery, or unfathom this 
 love of my God? The Ancient of days became a 
 child of days, and the Lord of all would be the ser- 
 vant of all, that he might be a Redeemer, a Brother, 
 a Friend, of poor unworthy mortals, of vile apostates 
 and rebels, such as I am, and such as, without him, 
 I and all others for ever must have been. 
 
 He took our nature without sin, that he might 
 bear our sin. If sin had been in that which he took 
 for himself, it would not have been possible, that one 
 who was equally sinful, should have taken off sinful- 
 
51 
 
 ness from others. Thus he, who was not, and could 
 not, be a sinner by nature, did, by imputation, be- 
 come the greatest of sinners : " He bare our sins in 
 his own body on the tree ; and Jehovah laid upon 
 him the iniquities of us all, when he once suffered for 
 sins, the just for the unjust." This dear Emmanuel 
 was a Lamb without spot, and therefore meet to be 
 slain for atonement; and a Scape-Goat, or Strong- 
 One, going off, laden with iniquities ; and so able to 
 bear them away into everlasting forgetfulness. 
 
 He was very God and very man in one Christ. 
 As Christ he is Emmanuel, or God with us. What 
 his name implies, that he truly is. He is God with 
 us, able to save and to succour, able to bless and to 
 enliven, in all our pilgrimage from earth to heaven. 
 " Lo ! I am with you alway, even unto the end of 
 the world." 
 
 And is this thy promise, O thou meek and lowly 
 Jesus ! and shall I be still slow of heart to believe 
 it ! Shall I always be hanging my head like a bul- 
 rush ; and shall my eyes be still gushing out their 
 faithless tears; when thou hast promised not only 
 the best of creatures in earth and heaven, but thine 
 own blessed Self to be with me, who art Lord of all ! 
 O my dear Redeemer, be so with me, by thy gra- 
 cious power, that I may be deeply sensible of thy 
 continual presence ! manifest thyself to me as thou 
 dost not unto the world; for I am thine, and I de- 
 sire to give up myself and all I am and have to thy 
 blessed will for ever. Be indeed, according to thy 
 name, my Emmanuel, my God with me and in me of 
 a truth, that I may walk with thee as one agreed, 
 c2 
 
52 
 
 and draw from thee all those supplies of grace, life, 
 and peace, without which I can neither be happy nor 
 alive to thy glory. O hear and answer, for mine 
 eyes and my heart are upon thee ! 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 On Christ's Descent into Egypt. 
 
 It behoved this Emmanuel in all things to be 
 made like unto his brethren ; therefore he went down 
 into Egypt. All he did upon earth had some use 
 and meaning. By some facts, he testified what he 
 was doing; and by others, what he would continually 
 do for his people. 
 
 " Out of Egypt have I called my Son, saith the 
 Lord." His redeemed were spiritually in Egypt, 
 the house of bondage. They were there under the 
 service of a cruel king, a prince who ruleth in the 
 world by usurpation till the time appointed. Griev- 
 ous are the tasks, and sad are the wages, of this 
 tyrant of souls. Jesus went down and came up again 
 for a sign. As the Head of his people he did this, 
 preaching their redemption from bondage in himself. 
 In their order and times, they come up out of Egypt 
 too, by the strong hand of this Captain of salvation. 
 He is great in might, and therefore not one of them 
 faileth. The prince of the air loseth his dominion 
 over them ; and though he follow them like Pharaoh, 
 
53 
 
 and chase them all the way, he cannot hinder their 
 course of faith, nor rob them of their Canaan in glory. 
 O marvellous love of my Saviour ! Was it not 
 enough for thee to take up my nature in its best 
 estate, without submitting to a manger, to contempt, 
 to persecution, to banishment, and all the wrongs of 
 men ? O how low must I be fallen, that it should 
 be needful for thee (for, if it had not been needful, 
 this act had been spared) to endure poverty, wretch- 
 edness, and shame, that I might be delivered from 
 all ! I was in Egypt, and thou earnest to me. Thy 
 grace preached liberty to the captives, and the open- 
 ing of the prison to them that were bound. Thy 
 power performed what thy love proclaimed ; and thou 
 broughtest the prisoners from the prison, and those 
 that sat in darkness out of the prison-house. I, O 
 wonderful to tell ! I, among thy ransomed, have fol- 
 lowed thee in the regeneration out of this dismal 
 Egypt, and have tasted a little of the glorious liberty 
 of thy children. Not unto me, my dear Saviour, 
 not unto me, but unto thy name be all the praise. 
 I was wallowing in the mire of Egypt, and in the 
 mud of the Nile; I was entirely given up to the 
 filth and pollutions of this world, and should have re- 
 mained therein till I had been sunk for ever in its woe ; 
 unless thy mighty arm had wrought my deliverance, 
 and set me free. Glory to thee, Jehovah-Jesus, 
 thou Saviour all-divine, for mercy unmeasurable like 
 this, for grace and glory yet before me, to which 
 there is no end ! O how shall I show forth thy 
 praise for all which thou hast done for my soul ! 
 
54 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 On the Miracles of Christ. 
 
 We see but little into the true worth and im- 
 portance of the miracles of Jesus, if we look no far- 
 ther than the historical facts. These indeed do 
 speak aloud the glory of the Divine Person to the 
 carnal sense of man, and did so even to those who 
 hated and blasphemed him ; but the grandeur of these 
 works consisted in this, that they were only outward 
 testimonies of the far more noble operations of his 
 grace within the soul, which were not to endure for 
 a time only, like their outward signs, but to flourish 
 throughout eternity. 
 
 He gave sight to the blind, that he might testify 
 unto men his sovereign power in giving light and 
 understanding to the mind. He opened the deaf 
 ear, that men might know by whom alone they can 
 hear aright the good news of salvation, and live for 
 ever. The lame he caused, in a moment, to walk, 
 that his people might learn that they can only move, 
 as well as live, by him, and that without him they can 
 do nothing. He cured the foul leprosy of the body, 
 in order to show that only by him can be healed the 
 far more deplorable leprosy of sin, which covers and 
 defiles the mind. All sickness vanished at his com- 
 mand, that we might have hope in him, as the sure 
 Restorer of our souls. The poor or meek among 
 men were made rich for eternity. He cast out 
 
55 
 
 unclean spirits, and suffered them to possess the 
 swine, who were thereby lost, that he might teach 
 his redeemed, that he only delivered and can deliver 
 them from the powers of darkness, which, being let 
 loose upon the world, drive them violently and swiftly 
 down the steep course of time, into a gulf of inextri- 
 cable woe. The hungry multitudes were fed by his 
 miraculous power, to explain this great truth, that he 
 is not only the Giver of spiritual life, but the constant 
 Sustainer and Nourisher of it from day to day ; and 
 he did this by small means, that the excellency of the 
 power might be known to be his, and not in the crea- 
 tures, however sanctified, blessed, and used. The 
 winds and waves were instantly obedient to his word, 
 that his beloved might rejoice in him, as the Stiller 
 of all spiritual waves, the tumultuous madness of the 
 world, the ragings of Satan, and the confusion of all 
 things. These can roar and foam no longer than it 
 pleaseth him ; and when they foam and roar at all, 
 it shall turn out in the end for the good of his peo- 
 ple. The dead were raised, to proclaim his rising 
 power, and to declare, that the issues also of spiritual 
 life and of endless death are altogether in his hands. 
 Whatever he did was an act of mercy, under which 
 he revealed, as in a parable, innumerable lessons of 
 grace and love. All his works proclaimed him to be 
 both the Creator of all, and, what seems more com- 
 forting to his chosen, the Redeemer and Restorer of 
 millions that were lost. 
 
 Learn from these things, O believer, what thy 
 Lord and God hath done for thy soul. He quick- 
 ened thee from the death of trespasses and sins ; he 
 
56 
 
 giveth light and peace to thy mind ; he feedeth thee 
 with the bread of life; he cureth all thy spiritual 
 diseases ; he quelleth thy manifold enemies and temp- 
 tations ; he strengthened thee with strength in thy 
 soul ; he doeth all that is done in thee by grace ; 
 and he will never cease working in thee both to will 
 and to do — no, not even when he hath brought thee 
 to his kingdom in heaven. 
 
 O pray fervently, my soul, rightly to apprehend 
 these precious things. If thou teach me, blessed 
 Lord, then shall I know them, in some measure at 
 least, according to my capacity, as they ought to be 
 known. Such knowledge, indeed, is too excellent 
 for my clouded faculties of nature ; these cannot, if 
 left to themselves, attain unto it. I, therefore, seek 
 not to obtain the apprehension of these truths, as 
 fallen man can teach or retain them, but as thou didst 
 teach and enforce them. In thy teaching, though 
 the substance of the truths be the same, there is a 
 wide difference from all the teaching of men. Man, 
 by his own study, gropeth in the dark, and wearieth 
 himself in vain to reach up to the perception of thine 
 excellent wisdom; but thou art light in thyself, and 
 sendest down both illumination and influence at once 
 to such as are taught by thee, by which they not only 
 know thy truth as a truth demonstrable in itself, but 
 feel the blessings of it as a truth applied and made 
 their own. They find strength and nourishment in 
 what thou givest for food, and not airy words or un- 
 profitable speculations, which, without thy saving in- 
 fluence, are all that can be found in the best and 
 wisest instructions of men. O raise me up, then, 
 
57 
 
 my blessed Teacher, above the pictures of things, 
 which may be gained by words, to the true enjoy- 
 ment of the things themselves. So shall I not hear, 
 or give discourse only of thy spiritual feast, like a man 
 in a dream, but shall taste and see indeed how good 
 and gracious thou art, and that all life, power, and 
 consolation, are entirely from thee. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 On the Word of Christ, 
 
 " For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in hea- 
 ven ; and upon earth it runneth very swiftly. The 
 righteousness of thy testimonies is everlasting : give 
 me understanding, and I shall live." 
 
 Such is the word, and the end of the word, of my 
 gracious Redeemer. It is called a word, because it 
 is a revelation ; all words being only the revelation or 
 expression of things. This revealed word is settled 
 in heaven upon the throne of God, is ordered by the 
 Divine Persons in all things, and is sure, because or- 
 dered by them in a covenant which cannot be broken. 
 
 It is a word too of testimony, because it testifieth 
 of my Saviour throughout, either directly by the in- 
 stitutions and declarations of his grace, or indirectly 
 by the courses and actions of his providence meet- 
 ing in one and the same purpose, which is the guid- 
 ance and salvation of his people. 
 
 This word, in the conduct of the Divine Spirit, 
 c3 
 
58 
 
 is also a word of power, and the fit instrument of all 
 his work. It is his spiritual sword, by which he 
 divides asunder the soul and spirit, and effects that 
 circumcision of the heart, whereby his people are 
 enabled to live no longer unto themselves, but unto 
 God. The operation is painful indeed to the flesh 
 or to nature ; but it causeth the spirit to rejoice in 
 Christ Jesus, and to give up its confidence in all 
 things beside. 
 
 For this purpose, then, of testifying for Christ, 
 and of acting by the Spirit in the redeemed, is all 
 the written word calculated and given. Hence, the 
 Institutions of the law preached Jesus and his salva- 
 tion — the Prophecies declared the same truth — the 
 Histories are records of God's conduct towards his 
 people from age to age — the Gospels are evidences of 
 the accomplishment of all these things in Christ — 
 and the Epistles are explanations and enforcements 
 of these things to believers. In short, all the holy 
 writings relate to Christ, and to the redeemed in 
 him. Jesus is the Alpha and the Omega of the 
 whole word and work of the Most High. 
 
 In this word and its experience, consist the right 
 wisdom and comfort of a Christian. Here is truth 
 without error; so that he can read without fear, and 
 trust without danger. All other books, as they come 
 from men, have more or less of folly or vanity in them, 
 and often are looked over with little real satisfaction 
 and improvement. But, in this volume, grace not 
 only discovers something new, but brings new force 
 out of old truths, which have charmed the soul a 
 thousand times. It discovers the multiform and 
 
59 
 
 manifold wisdom of God, in what he hath spoken ; 
 insomuch that, from under the veil of one precious 
 instruction, another and another shall arise, as the 
 soul is improved to bear them. These are the steps 
 of the kingdom ; and the higher the renewed mind 
 can ascend, it not only understands better what it 
 hath already attained, but sees farther and wider into 
 the glories yet before it, till it is ravished with un- 
 speakable delight in its views of the infinite know- 
 ledge and love of God. 
 
 The right understanding of this word doth not 
 puff up, but humbleth. He hath not a true appre- 
 hension of its sense, who is lifted up by it in him- 
 self. The lowly reader is the only learner. To 
 him it is not a word lettered or sounded, so much as 
 a living and lively word ingrafted. It enters into 
 his heart more than his ears, and diffuseth its sweet 
 savour through all the faculties, setting them into 
 delightful exercise for the divine glory. 
 
 The great depth of the word of God keeps the 
 real Christian ever a learner. He knows that it is 
 impossible to reach the utmost of God's wisdom. 
 There will be always mysteries to be unfolded, be- 
 cause man's comprehension is finite; at the bound 
 of which, how wide soever it may extend, remaineth 
 ignorance. One, who had been in the third heaven, 
 and in spirit caught up into paradise itself, where he 
 heard unspeakable words, could only say, when he 
 wrote of the divine counsels, " O the depth of the 
 riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! 
 How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways 
 past finding out !" He could stand upon the shore 
 and taste ; but all beyond was an infinite ocean. 
 
60 
 
 The true disciple, however, knows enough to 
 make him see the vanity and unprofitableness of all 
 learning and wisdom (if so they may be called) out 
 of Christ. The speculations of men are but dreams, 
 and their pursuits but idle labours at the best, which 
 begin and end in self, and which have no higher 
 object than this evil world. The poor simple coun- 
 tryman who hath learned Christ, (and many such, 
 blessed be God, there are,) can pity the pompous 
 ignorance of those who know almost every thing but 
 God, and the proper value of their own souls. By 
 a logic, far beyond that of the schools, he hath been 
 led to this conclusion, that God is his Father, that 
 Christ is his Saviour, that the Holy Spirit is his 
 Guide, that the Bible is his charter and his library, 
 that the devil, the world, and the flesh, are his foes, 
 that the earth is the wilderness of his banishment, 
 that heaven is his home, and that all the favour, love, 
 and power of the Godhead are engaged to bring him 
 thither. The worldly wise can only value this (if 
 at all) when carnal knowledge is dying with their 
 bodies, and all their trifling thoughts are about to 
 perish. Hence it is, that the poor man's knowledge 
 being sound and true, though ever so small, can stand 
 the onset of trials in the world, and death at last; 
 while the self-taught, the learned, and the knowing, 
 with none of this true understanding, fall into the 
 absurdest errors, fail in their course, and frequently 
 go off at last doubting and despairing. 
 
 O, my soul, seek thou the substantial wisdom 
 which cometh from God, and which neither time nor 
 eternity itself can diminish, but only brighten and 
 
61 
 
 improve. Though other knowledge may be valuable 
 for the purposes of this world, yet this alone cau 
 ripen for heaven, and is therefore most earnestly to 
 be sought for by thee, whose business and calling, 
 whose citizenship and hope, are principally there. 
 
 And, O Thou, who art the living and life-giving 
 Word itself, through whom and for whom all the 
 written word was given, come and possess my soul ! 
 1 long for nothing, and I would always long for no- 
 thing, but for thy wisdom and thee. O forgive my 
 unsettled heart, which hath so often been taken up 
 with a multitude of unprofitable things, instead of 
 being wholly fixed upon thee, who art the only Way, 
 the Truth, and the Life ! I can have no rest, no 
 firm establishment, but here alone. My nature is 
 unstable as water ; and I live, moreover, in a slippery 
 world. Leave, O leave me, therefore, not to myself ', 
 nor to the power of the evils, which are above, be- 
 neath, and on every side ! Set me upon thyself, 
 my blessed Rock, and order thou my goings in the 
 way, and lead me into the way everlasting. Who 
 is sufficient for these things but thou, who art all- 
 sufficient? How can I, so poor a creature, hope 
 either to stand or to prevail, but through that strength 
 which is made perfect in weakness, through that wis- 
 dom which cannot be deceived by fraud, and that love 
 which is stronger than death, and durable as the days 
 of heaven ! O Lord, be on my side, and then neither 
 my own flesh, nor the corruption of the flesh in others, 
 no, nor all the powers of darkness, shall be able in 
 the least to hurt me. I am thine, O save me now, 
 save me to the end, and save me for ever ! 
 
62 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 On the Life of Christ. 
 
 Though my Redeemer was to be, and was, a 
 man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; though he 
 was to have, and had, all our iniquities in his own 
 body on the cross; though he was to bear the curse, 
 and was cursed, for the transgression of his people, 
 and, for a token of it, was hanged upon a tree ; yet, 
 in his own person, he was pure, harmless, and unde- 
 fined, and so was called typically the holy Lamb of 
 God, without blemish, or any possible defect. He 
 was perfectly without sin, from the manger to the 
 cross. When Satan tried him in the desert, he 
 found nothing in him of weakness of mind or defile- 
 ment of body; and therefore his temptations had 
 nothing to lay hold of, but fell to the ground. His 
 enemies among men, stirred up by the malice of the 
 adversary, could not, when he challenged them, con- 
 vince him of sin ; nor was any thing like guile to be 
 found in his mouth. All his words were wisdom 
 itself, and all his actions were purity and love. 
 
 There are three principal reasons why such a Re- 
 deemer became us ; and these are to be found only 
 in Christ. 
 
 A sacrifice, in the first place, was necessary for 
 our iniquities; for, " without shedding of blood, 
 there is no remission of sins." The justice of God 
 required atonement ; because it is inconsistent with 
 
63 
 
 the holiness of his nature to spare the guilty. No 
 truth, in all his word, is more plain than this. But 
 nothing could be substituted in the room of sinners 
 which was naturally sinful in itself; for this would 
 only increase the wrath of the Most High. And, 
 therefore, as his love was pleased to provide and ac- 
 cept a substitute, such a one appeared, as was with- 
 out spot, or defect of any kind in himself, and had 
 nothing to answer for of his own. — This is the sig- 
 nification of all the pure s&rifices under the law, 
 which speak aloud, that they are entirely vicarious, 
 or one offered up in the stead of another. 
 
 In the next place, the redeemed, as sinners, wanted 
 righteousness, without which they cannot appear with 
 acceptance before God. And, as a perfect righte- 
 ousness can only be pleasing to him, and all men 
 are incapable of producing such a one, and as there- 
 fore it can only be obtained by accounting the right- 
 eousness of a substitute for their own — Jesus Christ 
 was Jehovah in our nature, in order to be Jehovah 
 our Righteousness. God is well pleased for his 
 righteousness, which is infinite, and everlasting, ca- 
 pable of justifying from all things, and through all 
 times, even unto eternity. Christ, not for himself, 
 but for his people, fulfilled all righteousness, and 
 upon their account magnified the law of their God. 
 It was for this end that he lived so many years upon 
 earth, and went through all the stages of human life 
 to manhood ; by which his people of all ages might 
 have, through faith, a right of acceptance in him. 
 
 And, thirdly, the merit of the sacrifice for sin, and 
 the substitution of righteousness for sinners, required 
 
64 
 
 some person to intervene, or to stand between God 
 and sinners, and to offer these exchanges in their be- 
 half. This office is the office of a priest, who is a 
 mediator between God and man, and who must there- 
 fore be holy in himself. Christ was this perfect per- 
 son; and so was " such an High Priest as became 
 us, holy, harmless, undefined, separate from sinners, 
 and made higher than the heavens," having an un- 
 changeable priesthood, to which he is consecrated for 
 evermore. 
 
 These are the reasons of all his labours in love 
 and righteousness : and he was able to merit and go 
 through them, being Jehovah in man ; as well as to 
 suffer what he took upon him, being man in Jehovah. 
 O what a task of unparalleled grace and humility 
 is here ! Who could have done such unimpeach- 
 able works, but he who is perfect in himself? Who 
 could have done them to render others perfect for 
 ever before God, but one so much above all created 
 perfection, as to have for others an unbounded per- 
 fection to spare? 
 
 Lord, help me to meditate upon thee, and upon 
 all that thou hast done for my soul ! O put on this 
 carment of salvation, this robe of righteousness, 
 which thy blessed hands have perfectly wrought, 
 that it may be my wedding garment in the day of my 
 espousals, when I shall leave the world, and appear 
 before the Majesty on high ! This is the righteous- 
 ness of saints, pure, white, and shining, in which 
 they walk with thee in glory, and in which I also 
 hope to walk, unworthy creature as I am, both with 
 thee and with them. O then shall I appear without 
 
65 
 
 spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing, all-acceptable to 
 God, all-illustrious in thee ! Lord ! what hast thou 
 wrought indeed? Thou hast wrought for me to 
 entitle me to heaven ; and thou hast wrought in me 
 to fit me for heaven ; a work, as it seems to me, no 
 less difficult than the other ; so stubborn and vile am 
 I, and so opposite to thy pure nature is mine. I 
 marvel, and with tears of joy I marvel, at all the 
 mysterious wonders of thy redemption, at thy plain 
 and clear, yet unsearchable love, at thine awful jus- 
 tice magnified even by grace itself, at the kindness 
 thou hast shown, and the goodness thou hast pro- 
 mised, at the never-ending line of wisdom in thy 
 holy word, and at the unbounded scene of glory yet 
 before me. I am overwhelmed, I am astonished, at 
 the weight and grandeur of thy divine benevolence. 
 Accept the faculties of my body and soul, all I am 
 and all I have ; and let them be found to thy praise, 
 and honour, and glory, both now and at the day of 
 thine appearing ! Amen. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 On the Death of Christ. 
 
 " Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like 
 unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith 
 the Lord afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger." 
 
 No, my Jesus, never was sorrow like thine. Thou 
 barest the griefs of millions ; griefs which would have 
 
66 
 
 sunk those millions into insufferable woe. Omnipo- 
 tence itself groaned under the tremendous load, 
 which forced from thy pure and perfect body, not 
 common sweat, (the curse inflicted with human la- 
 bour,) but a dreadful sweat, bursting forth in great 
 drops of agonizing blood. O what a doleful cry didst 
 thou utter, and who but thyself can conceive those 
 (to us unknown) pangs and sufferings, which forced 
 from thy sacred lips, " My God, my God, why hast 
 thou forsaken me !" 
 
 The meditation of thy sufferings and death is 
 painful in the sympathy of nature ; yet I cannot wish 
 that thou hadst not endured them, nor didst thou 
 fully wish it for thyself. Thou wast contented to 
 be betrayed into the hands of sinful men for this very 
 purpose. It was by the determinate counsel and 
 foreknowledge of God, that all the parts of this so- 
 lemn event were transacted. And it is for the ever- 
 lasting interest of me and of thousands, that all the 
 Scriptures concerning thee were thus awfully fulfilled. 
 
 Lord, what is sin, that thou thyself couldst not 
 be spared ; when, from the souls of thy people, it was 
 taken off and laid upon thee ? Can any thing more 
 solemnly describe the hatred of the divine nature to 
 sin, and the severity of the divine justice upon ac- 
 count of it, than the pangs, the horrors, the cries of 
 thee, my Jesus, thou suffering Son of God ? And 
 if thou wert sacrificed for sin, who in thyself knewest 
 no sin, what shall become of those who reject thy 
 saving sacrifice, and yet all the while have nothing 
 but sin in themselves? 
 
 Who could support such excruciating tortures, 
 
67 
 
 unassisted and uncomforted as thou wert, even upon 
 a just account ? It was not in the power of a crea- 
 ture to sustain thine inward griefs, thine outward 
 torments, and the entire dereliction or forsaking of 
 God, of men, and of nature, all together and at once, 
 as thou didst sustain them, upon any account or 
 motive in the world. But thou enduredst the whole 
 with dignified complacency and satisfaction, even for 
 thine enemies, to convert them into friends, and to 
 make rebels and apostates heirs of God, and joint- 
 heirs with thyself of an eternal weight of glory. 
 May I not turn thine own words and say, " Behold, 
 and see, was there ever love like thy love, which 
 thou showedst for thy people, when the Lord afflicted 
 thee in the day of his fierce anger ?" 
 
 Lord, how shall I speak, and what shall I say to 
 these things? Shall my incredulous heart be still 
 backward to believe ? If Jesus died for my sins, 
 can I die for them too ? If he freely bare the curse 
 for my sake, will the justice of my God still require 
 the curse at my hands ? If my iniquities were taken 
 on himself by my Saviour, and he made a full and 
 perfect atonement for them, can I dare to affront the 
 divine Majesty by supposing, that he is yet so un- 
 righteous as to charge them all again upon me ? O 
 forgive my hard and impenitent heart, that I should 
 ever imagine such blasphemy against thy faithfulness 
 and love ; that I should even think that thou canst 
 be so unjust and untrue, even in contradiction to 
 thine own word, as to lay that still upon myself, 
 which for my sake was entirely laid upon my dearest 
 and most blessed Redeemer ! Lord, I melt into 
 
68 
 
 tears of shame at myself, and into tears of comfort 
 upon the remembrance of all this thy kindness to my 
 soul. Thy blood, O my Jesus, cleanseth from all 
 sin ; and if from all, what sin can possibly remain to 
 be now imputed to me ? O help, thou Mighty God, 
 thou Prince of Peace, that I may no more be faith- 
 less, but believing ! 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 On the Resurrection of Christ. 
 
 Never fact was more strongly and undeniably 
 established than this. Divine Providence ordained 
 that it should be so ; because upon this great truth 
 depend all the assurance and efficacy of our redemp- 
 tion. " If Christ be not raised," says the apostle, 
 " your faith is vain ; ye are yet in your sins." 
 
 But is there no proof of Christ's resurrection but 
 the historical evidence ? Yes, blessed Lord, as thou 
 givest thy people to know of the doctrine of salva- 
 tion, that it is thine, by the demonstration of the 
 Spirit ; so thou affordest to them a most convincing 
 testimony, that thou art indeed risen from the dead, 
 by their super-resurrection from the death of tres- 
 passes and sins. If thou hadst not been raised up 
 from the dead by the glory of the Father, it would 
 have been impossible for any of them to have either 
 received or walked in the newness of life. Their 
 being spiritually quickened with thee, is a proof in 
 
69 
 
 itself of thy glorious resurrection, and a confirmation 
 to their souls, that they are thine own unalienable 
 inheritance, and that therefore they shall live with 
 thee for ever. 
 
 Thou hast truly and graciously said, " I am the 
 Resurrection, and the Life : he that believeth in me, 
 though he were dead, yet shall he live : and whoso- 
 ever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die." 
 Lord, I was long, and too long, dead to God and 
 dead to thee, shut up under the ban of the law through 
 sin, yet, like a dead carcass to all outward impressions, 
 utterly insensible to my alienation and separation 
 from thy life and peace. I was dead also to my own 
 true interest and everlasting concerns, and alive only 
 to sin, and to the service of the lord of sin, with- 
 out perceiving his bitter tyranny, and horrible de- 
 signs : " So foolish was I and ignorant, yea, even as 
 a beast before thee." The beasts indeed follow the 
 end of their being, but I did not think upon mine. 
 In tender mercy didst thou open mine eyes, that I 
 might know myself and my misery, and that I might 
 behold thee as the only refuge and hope of my soul. 
 Thou gavest me the powers of a new and spiritual 
 life : and then I ran towards thee with an affection 
 I had never felt before, and desired to know more 
 and more of thee and the power of thy resurrection, 
 so that I might no longer live in or for myself, but' 
 in thy faith and for thy glory. All this was thy 
 work, and thine alone. I might as easily have 
 created a world, as thus have new-created myself, in 
 opposition to the millions of hinderances from within 
 and without. No : it was thou, my dearest Re- 
 
70 
 
 deemer ; it was thou that restored my soul, and led 
 me in the paths of righteousness for thy name's sake ; 
 and therefore I trust, (and though I am sometimes 
 afraid, yet still do I trust, and would trust again,) 
 that " surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all 
 the days of my life, and that I shall dwell in the 
 house of the Lord for ever." 
 
 O what an evidence of thy resurrection hast thou 
 thus brought home to my heart ! Confirmed as it 
 is by thy holy written word, it is demonstration it- 
 self, and is not to be argued away by all the corrupt 
 reasonings of men. It is a demonstration both of 
 word and of deed, of spirit and of life, of understand- 
 ing and experience, of thy faithfulness and truth, 
 and of all my blessed and joyful interests therein. 
 " Sing, O ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it : 
 shout ye lower parts of the earth : break forth into 
 singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree 
 therein ; for Jehovah hath redeemed Jacob, and 
 glorified himself in Israel." 
 
 Thomas doubted, that I might believe more 
 strongly. He was suffered to fail in his faith, that 
 my faith, and that of all thy children after him, 
 might be improved and confirmed. But the mere 
 evidence of sense can draw no blessing. His bodily 
 view of thy resurrection was indeed followed by faith ; 
 but, from hence thou tookest occasion, most happily 
 for thy people, to say, " Blessed are they that have 
 not seen, and yet have believed." — Through thy 
 mercy I have believed, and according to thy word 
 have tasted thy blessing. Joy and peace in believ- 
 ing, quietness and assurance of mind, peace and re- 
 
71 
 
 signation of soul, some holiness and strong desires 
 after more, contempt of this world and foretastes of 
 a better, preparation for death and views of a trans- 
 porting eternity, are among the many proofs that 
 thou art risen and livest, that thou art gracious and 
 true. O that these proofs may increase in number 
 and measure, that my faith may be more and more 
 lively, and that I may " abound in hope, through the 
 power of the Holy Ghost !" 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 On the Ascension of Christ. 
 
 " Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led 
 captivity captive ; thou hast received gifts," in thy 
 human nature, " for men ; yea, for the rebellious 
 also, that the Lord God might dwell among them, 
 or that they might become an habitation of God 
 through the Spirit." 
 
 This was prophesied of Jesus long before his ad- 
 vent in the flesh. It was so prophesied, as though 
 it were a fact already past ; because the things to 
 come are, as it were, present with God, being fore- 
 known by his omniscient mind, and ordained in his 
 holy will, which must be accomplished in all its pur- 
 pose and decree. 
 
 He ascended to the throne of the Highest, with 
 the full merits of his blood and righteousness, which 
 were a sweet-smelling savour, or a savour of rest, to 
 
72 
 
 the everlasting Three. By this gracious ascension, 
 Jehovah is become propitious to the redeemed, re- 
 ceives them in Christ, loves them for Christ's sake, 
 favours them with his peace in their hearts, carries 
 them on by his providence and grace, makes all things 
 work together for their good, bears them through life 
 and death, and finally receives them to glory. 
 
 The ascension of Christ brought down gifts from 
 above, and, as the greatest of all, the power and pre- 
 sence of the Holy Spirit, for his people. It was thus 
 expedient for them, that he went away from the 
 earth ; for if he had not carried up his merits before 
 the throne, the Comforter could not have come down 
 to have led them into all the truth of God and of 
 Christ, and to have made that truth effectual in their 
 salvation. By his holy influence they are brought 
 to believe, and are kept in believing to the end. 
 
 Jesus ascended likewise to prepare a place for his 
 chosen. In a short time they are to be dismissed 
 from wretched houses of clay, standing in the waste 
 wilderness of the world ; and then they are to have 
 in heaven everlasting mansions of beauty and glory, 
 fitted and furnished by Christ himself. They are 
 soon to leave their bodies, now thoroughly defiled 
 by sin, and to put on some spiritual fabric appointed 
 for them, in which they are to remain with Christ 
 and the blessed, till the final consummation of all 
 things. 
 
 O what excellent gifts, my blessed Redeemer, 
 hast thou procured and purchased for my unworthy 
 soul ! What hast thou not brought down of grace 
 for time, and of promise for eternity, to me, and to 
 
73 
 
 helpless sinners like me ! Yea, thou hast given 
 thine own self to thy brethren, that in thee they 
 might be given up to God, and like thee be a sweet- 
 smelling savour, ascending by thy merits to the 
 highest heaven. O what shall I, what can I, ren- 
 der for mercies like these ! I can give, poor as the 
 gift is, only my heart and soul to thy dear glory : 
 and I would not, surely I would not, restrain these. 
 Yet I cannot offer these, so weak and so corrupt am I, 
 without the assistance of thy strength. Favour me, 
 then, more and more, with thy gracious power, that 
 my affections may be constantly mounting upwards, 
 longing for the place of my everlasting residence, 
 and counting all things worse than dung that would 
 stop my progress thither. Where thou art, dear 
 Lord, soon do I hope to be. I am tired of this 
 earth, and of all its shifting miserable scenes ; I am 
 weary of this body, full of disorder and sin ; I loathe 
 the husks which the swine of this world quarrel for 
 and devour ; and I can be satisfied with nothing less 
 than thee and thy presence for ever. O my Be- 
 loved, when shall I ascend up after thee ? All be- 
 low is Mesech and Kedar ; but " with thee there is 
 the fulness," not the mere shadow, " of joy ; and at 
 thy right hand there are pleasures," not for a mo- 
 ment only, but "for evermore." Thou hast said, 
 " Surely, I come quickly." — " Amen," (reply the 
 hearts of thy people, and my heart would reply among 
 them,) " yea, come, Lord Jesus !" 
 
74 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 On the Glorification ofCJirist. 
 
 The mission and work of Jesus for our salvation 
 was completed in the eternal glorification of his per- 
 son in heaven. His hody was spiritually, though 
 not substantially, changed in this great event; and 
 thus, with his human soul, as one complete and per- 
 fect manhood, was taken into God. He now shines 
 in the brightness of the divine glory, far above all 
 principality and power, and every name that is named, 
 whether in heaven or in earth ; and he thus shines 
 as the head of our redeemed nature, that his people 
 may also be glorified with him, and be so united to 
 him and to each other, as to become a holy temple 
 and a glorious habitation of God through the Spirit. 
 
 " I pray," said the gracious Redeemer, " that 
 they may all be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and 
 I in thee ; that they also may be one in us : and the 
 glory which thou gavest me I have given them, that 
 they may be one, even as we are one : I in them, and 
 thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one." 
 
 O what a transcendent height of glory is this, to 
 which such creatures as myself, believing in Jesus, 
 shall shortly be raised ! What mind could have 
 been sublime enough so much as to have thought of 
 these wonders, if the Lord of glory himself had not 
 been pleased to reveal them? 
 
 The glory of Christ is not like the airy phantom 
 
75 
 
 which men call glory, but hath everlasting weight 
 and solidity; it not only sends forth light, but is 
 light : and all that can be conceived of splendour, 
 excellency, durability, and bliss, meets in this glory, 
 as its sole and substantial essence. The believer, 
 therefore, is said to enjoy in Christ an exceeding 
 eternal weight of glory — exceeding all conception and 
 comparison ; eternal in its enjoyment and duration. 
 
 " It doth not yet appear what we shall be ; but 
 we know, that when Christ shall appear, we shall be 
 like him, for we shall see him as he is :" so that " with 
 open face, beholding as in a glass the glory of the 
 Lord, we shall be changed into the same image, from 
 glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord. — 
 Behold what manner of love the Father hath be- 
 stowed upon us !" O that my heart may feel the 
 thanks which no tongue can utter, and, in humble 
 adoration, bless my God for his unspeakable gift ! 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 On the Intercession of Christ. 
 
 When the high-priest, once a-year, entered into 
 the most holy place, he carried the fume of the sweet 
 incense, and the blood of the killed sin, or sin-offer- 
 ing, with him. The fume was to cover the mercy- 
 seat upon the ark of the testimony, and the blood 
 was to be sprinkled before it. This shadowed forth 
 the interceding office of the great High Priest of 
 d 2 
 
76 
 
 our profession in the holiest of all. He is entered 
 there with his own blood, by which he hath made a 
 perfect atonement for his people, and with his own 
 righteousness, which both covers himself, as the pro- 
 pitiation, and his whole church under him, so as to 
 render every one, and altogether, acceptable to the 
 pure attributes of Jehovah. 
 
 Hence my Redeemer receives his name of Angel, 
 Interpreter, Advocate, or Intercessor. He pleadeth 
 for me, and for all poor sinners who come unto God 
 by him, before the throne of the Highest. He 
 fumeth out the merit of his blood, and the excellent 
 perfection of his righteousness filling all heaven, as it 
 were, with the fragrance of that which is unutterably 
 delightful to God himself. No broken-hearted rebel, 
 who cometh unto God by this High Priest Jesus, 
 shall ever bewail the insufficiency of his advocate, 
 but rather shall bless the Lord for his mercy, in 
 laying his help upon One so almighty. If he look 
 to this Saviour, then certainly he will be with him as 
 his Angel, Interpreter, or Advocate, " one among 
 a thousand, to show unto him his uprightness ; and 
 he is gracious unto him, and saith, Redeem him from 
 going down to the pit, I have found a ransom." 
 Then " his soul is brought back from the pit, and 
 enlightened with the light of the living." 
 
 Our High Priest, bearing our nature, " can be 
 touched with the feeling of our infirmities, though 
 without their sin : and he is able to save us to the 
 uttermost, or for evermore, seeing he ever liveth to 
 make intercession for us." O that I may come, 
 therefore, boldly, with liberty of speech and with con- 
 
77 
 
 fidence of heart, to the throne of grace, that I may 
 obtain the mercy I want, and find grace to help in 
 the time of my need ! 
 
 Blessed Lord, thou hast showed me what thou 
 hast done for me on earth, and what thou art now 
 doing for the interests of my soul in thy kingdom. 
 Thou settest before me, in both respects, the mo- 
 tives of the most sure and the most strong consola- 
 tion; so that in thee I might have the fullest as- 
 surance of understanding, of faith, and of hope. O 
 work, if it be thy will, this rich consolation within 
 me ! for, without the effectual aid of thy power, I 
 may reason upon these motives, but I cannot appre- 
 hend them; I may conclude in my mind that they 
 are true, but I shall not be able to apply their sweet- 
 ness, or strength, or truth, to my heart. Lord, take 
 thy poor servant's cause into thine own hand ; plead 
 it for him in the court of heaven ; urge it upon him 
 in the court of his own conscience on earth ; let him 
 feel the comfort of both in all the sorrows of his pre- 
 sent state ; so that no trial, nor outrage from his ene- 
 mies, no humbling sense of his own infirmities, may 
 be able to stagger his confidence in thee. 
 
 Though thou art in heaven, my Jesus, yet thou 
 knowest where I am and whereof I am made ; and 
 thou rememberest that I am but dust. O leave me 
 not, neither forsake me ; lest my own heart, without 
 any thing else, and especially my own heart with 
 ten thousand evil ones beside, draw me off from my 
 only true hope to some wretched, stupid, corrupting 
 refuge of lies ! Intercede for me, as for Peter, that 
 my faith fail not. He needed an advocate not more 
 
78 
 
 than I. O thou that didst plead his cause with 
 everlasting success, plead and take care of mine ; 
 that I, together with him, and all the clients of thy 
 grace, may rejoice in thy goodness to my soul, and 
 may bless thy holy name for ever and ever ! 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 The Love of the Father. 
 
 " In this is manifested the love of God towards 
 us, because that God sent his only-begotten Son 
 into the world, that we might live through him." 
 
 We could have had no life but through the Re- 
 deemer; and we could not have had him, but through 
 the tender love of the Father. Nothing more for- 
 cibly can show the love of God towards us than this, 
 that he should give up Christ to the deepest humi- 
 liation and sufferings for our rescue and redemption. 
 Had there been any possible method of salvation be- 
 side this, consistent with the divine attributes, surely 
 the bitter cup would have passed away from the blessed 
 Jesus, and God would not have permitted him to 
 drink it. But God did not, and therefore could not, 
 in this case, spare his Son, but delivered him up to 
 death for our sakes; and thus, in a most admirable 
 manner and degree, " commendeth his love towards 
 us, while we were yet sinners," who therefore as such 
 could have done nothing to deserve it. " Herein is 
 love; not that we loved God, but that he loved us, 
 and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." 
 
79 
 
 All this ensued according to the covenant of grace, 
 which was settled between the Divine Persons upon 
 the throne of heaven ; and when the Lord Jesus was 
 sacrificed, then was this covenant ratified and estab- 
 lished. Jehovah interposing himself therein, and 
 through the divided flesh and spirit of the Messiah, 
 satisfying his law and justice for the remission of sins. 
 
 By this new testament in the blood of the Savi- 
 our, his people are not only admitted into fellowship 
 with himself as their brother, yea, as flesh of their 
 flesh, and bone of their bone, in a more than espoused 
 nearness; but they are also entitled, by a gracious 
 right, to approach unto God as their Father. They 
 are adopted into his family; and the covenant, estab- 
 lished in the hands of the Mediator, is the testimony 
 and the seal of it. Hence they are no more strangers 
 and foreigners, and much less slaves and enemies, 
 but sons and heirs, children and heirs of God, and 
 joint-heirs with Christ Jesus ; and so when they look 
 up and pray, they do not take God's name in vain, 
 and speak falsely, when they call Jehovah himself, 
 " Abba, Father;" but they utter what they have a 
 right and privilege to utter, and what the Lord de- 
 lights to hear. 
 
 O my soul, thou canst not be in a ten thousandth 
 part so ready to be joyful in this matter, as thy God 
 is to rejoice over thee. If he could regard thee so 
 much, when thou wert dead in condemnation, and an 
 alien, as to give up his Son for thy sake; how much 
 more, when thou art reconciled by such expensive 
 means, will he pour forth his compassion upon thee ? 
 If he was kind to thee when he stood as thy Judge, 
 
80 
 
 and smote thy Substitute for thy sins ; will he, can 
 he, cease to be kind, under the character of thy Fa- 
 ther, thy merciful and gracious Father, in Christ 
 Jesus? Lord, remove so wicked a thought, so dia- 
 bolical a notion of unbelief from my mind ! It is 
 treason against thy love, thy justice, thy truth, and 
 all those attributes which are the shining rays of thy 
 nature, to harbour so foul an opinion : it is atheism, 
 madness, yea, the very falsehood and blasphemy of 
 hell. Holy Father, drive by thy Spirit such base 
 and abominable suggestions from my heart; and let 
 me claim the privilege of my adoption, let me call 
 myself thy child, though an unworthy child, and thus 
 honour thy faithfulness and truth, by living in the 
 sense of my nearness and dearness to thee ! 
 
 When my soul can most ascend to this its proper 
 station, then time, and the things of time, are most, 
 under my feet ; the world, and all its bustles, annoy 
 me less ; my heart beats freely for heaven ; and I 
 can look down from the hill, seeing the vanities and 
 pitying the follies beneath, which carry men away 
 from God, and too often M drown them in ruin and 
 perdition." 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 The Love of the Spirit. 
 
 If God be love, then the Spirit is love, because 
 the Spirit is God. He manifests himself as the God 
 
81 
 
 of love, by unfolding and bestowing such love as only 
 God himself could have, and from himself could pour 
 forth unto others. 
 
 The Holy Spirit, as one of the parties in the ever- 
 lasting covenant, loveth hi6 people with an everlast- 
 ing love. By him they are spiritually circumcised, 
 and so admitted into the bond or privileges of the 
 covenant ; that is, they are cut off from the state of 
 nature and the world, and are brought into a new 
 fellowship with God, and all that belongs to him. 
 By him also they are made sensible of the love of the 
 Father and of the Son, when he sheddeth forth his 
 own love upon their hearts ; for it is He who enables 
 each of them to cry, " Abba, Father," under the 
 taste of his mercy; and to say to Christ, " Thou art 
 my Saviour, my Lord, and my God," in the rich 
 experience of his grace. Without the love of the 
 Spirit, as they could not know, so they could not 
 come up to the love of the whole Trinity; for by 
 him alone it is shed abundantly upon all that are his, 
 both in earth and heaven. 
 
 If I were left to love God by my own fallen 
 powers, and had not the continual help of the Spirit 
 of love, I should fear that I could do nothing but 
 hate him entirely. " The carnal mind is enmity 
 itself against God ; for it is not subject to the law 
 of God, neither indeed can be." The law of God is 
 the pure life and love of God ; and only by his Spirit 
 can I delight therein, and then only after the inner 
 man. Hence it must follow, that, " if any man 
 have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his." 
 d 3 
 
82 
 
 Without him, every man must remain as he was 
 born, earthly, sensual, devilish. 
 
 O how deeply then am I indebted to this divine 
 Agent, for taking up his holy residence in my un- 
 worthy soul ! What loving-kindness and mercy have 
 I not felt and enjoyed by his blessed power within 
 me ! 
 
 How is it, that He, whom the heaven of heavens 
 cannot contain, should vouchsafe to take up his abode 
 in a poor sinner's breast ? What marvellous love is 
 this, that he should stoop to dwell with one, whose 
 heart hath been the residence of the evil spirit, and 
 the cage of every unclean bird ? Surely it must be 
 infinite love which could cleanse so unholy a tene- 
 ment, and keep it in any degree clean for himself, 
 against the manifold attempts to pollute it on every 
 side. 
 
 Whatever I may lose then, O thou blessed Spirit, 
 may I never lose the love of thee ! The loss of 
 fame, of riches, and of all things here, are but of 
 small account in themselves, and can soon be made 
 up by thy power; but the loss of thee is the loss of 
 more than life itself, the parting with the very an- 
 chor of my soul, and turning me adrift into a dark 
 ocean of doubt and despair. O then forsake not 
 thine own, who could never have been thine own but 
 from thy mere love and bounty, and perfect all the 
 work of grace in me, that, before men and angels, I 
 may give indubitable proof that indeed I am thine \ 
 
83 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Tlie Work of the Spirit. 
 
 The nature of man, since the fall, is carnal and 
 prone to evil; nor hath it power and inclination to raise 
 up itself to the desire and enjoyment of heavenly 
 things, but, on the contrary, shuns and abhors them. 
 It " savoureth not the things that be of God, but 
 the things that be of men" and of the world. 
 
 Now, as whatsoever is born of the flesh is flesh, 
 and as flesh and blood cannot inherit nor even know 
 the kingdom or grace of God, it is not marvellous 
 that Christ should say, " Ye must be born again," 
 or that it is absolutely necessary for a man to be 
 " renewed in the spirit of his mind," before he can 
 apprehend or enjoy the things of God. We see this 
 plain necessity proved by the case of all men ; for no 
 man seeks and knows God by his own natural abili- 
 ties ; and every one, who doth know him, freely con- 
 fesses, that it is by grace alone he obtained that know- 
 ledge. 
 
 The first work of the Spirit, then, in a sinner, is 
 a " new birth unto righteousness." As this is the 
 Spirit's office in the covenant of grace, so believers 
 under it are said to be " born of the Spirit." This 
 is their entrance into the knowledge of themselves 
 and of God. They are united unto God in Christ 
 by the act of his Spirit, and so partake a new life, 
 with new functions, faculties, and affections, peculiar 
 
84 
 
 to it ; which life is in all things opposite to the carnal 
 life of their fallen nature, and creates, from the time 
 of its birth, a constant warfare in them against the 
 being and power of evil. 
 
 As this generation, in its essence, is the sole work 
 of the Spirit, so is it likewise in all its effects. When 
 the Christian begins to live spiritually, he is soon 
 enabled to think and act spiritually. And as the 
 views and objects of this life are beyond the creature, 
 and rest in God and in Christ, the Holy Spirit leads 
 up the heart to a dependence on the Divine Persons 
 for the attainment of them. This is faith : and thus 
 it appears, that it is both the gift and the operation 
 of the Spirit. 
 
 By this faith the Christian desires, and attains 
 what he desires. By this he prays, and hopes, and 
 waits, and expects. By this he wrestles against sin, 
 and Satan, and the world. By this he looks with a 
 holy contempt on all dying things, and beholds those 
 delightful realities which are invisible to sense. By 
 this he knows himself to be a child of God, and the 
 purchase of Christ. By this he sees a glorious im- 
 mortality provided for him, and longs often to enjoy 
 it. By this he suffers the will of God, as well as 
 obeys it, knowing that it must work . entirely for his 
 good. By this he welcomes death itself, and at 
 length obtains the victory over it, through Jesus 
 Christ his Lord. All this work of faith is carried on 
 by the effectual unceasing agency of the Holy Spirit. 
 It is an action upon the spirit of a man, which none 
 but the God of spirits either would or could perform. 
 And where this work is not thus inwardly performed, 
 
85 
 
 there may indeed be the notions of truth, and the 
 forms of godliness, but they have no real life or power 
 in them. The heart, in that case, may be as dead 
 to God, and as much in and of the world as ever. 
 
 He is called the Spirit of Christ, because he not 
 only is one with him in Jehovah, but also takes of 
 the things of Christ and shows them to his people. 
 Thus, where his Spirit dwells, Christ is said to dwell, 
 because of their inseparable union. If Christ dwell 
 in our hearts by faith, it is therefore because the 
 Spirit of Christ is in us, and God is in us of a truth. 
 It was the Spirit of Christ in the apostle which 
 enabled him to say, " I live, yet not I, but Christ 
 liveth in me ; and the life which I now live in the 
 flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who 
 loved me, and gave himself for me." 
 
 To thee, then, O thou Holy Spirit of truth, and 
 by thine own power, do I look up for the life of faith 
 and hope, and for the increase of faith and hope, and 
 every blessing ! O work in me to will and to do what 
 is right ! for, without thee, I can neither will nor do 
 any thing but evil. I am all depravity ; but thou art 
 grace itself, and the God of all grace. I am weak- 
 ness, instability, and want; but thou art everlast- 
 ing Strength, the Rock of Ages, the Fulness which 
 filleth all in all. I have nothing, but thou hast all 
 things. O behold thy poor servant, whom thou hast 
 made willing to serve thee ; and let all the good plea- 
 sure of thy will be done in me and by me ! Abate 
 my pride, subdue my unbelief, mortify my corruptions, 
 establish my soul. All that I need, supply, accord- 
 ing to thy riches in glory by Christ Jesus. So shall 
 
86 
 
 I be steadfast in thy steadfastness, lively in thy life, 
 active in thy power, faithful in thy grace, wise in thy 
 wisdom, holy in thine holiness, happy in thy love, 
 persevering to the end by thine incessant care, com- 
 fort, and preservation. Lord, who or what am I, 
 that thou hast so tenderly brought me hitherto ; when, 
 like millions around me, I might have been justly cut 
 off, and left silent in darkness ! Help, O help me to 
 adore thee, and to testify of thy goodness and grace, 
 in heart and in mind, in lip and in life, both now and 
 for ever ! 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 On the equal Obligation of Believers to the Three 
 Persons in Jehovah. 
 
 "** It is an error to suppose that we are indebted to 
 one more than another of the Divine Persons ; for 
 their love is but one and the same love, as their 
 essence or nature is one and the same ; and there 
 could not exist such a difference or inequality of kind- 
 ness to men, unless there was such a difference or 
 inequality in themselves, as would not stand with the 
 unity of their Godhead. 
 
 The love of the Three Persons formed the cove- 
 nant of grace from everlasting, in which they were 
 equally and unclividedly concerned; and though the 
 fulfilment of this covenant had necessarily an order 
 and distinction, according to the several engagements 
 
87 
 
 of the Three distinct Persons, yet the mind and will 
 of the Godhead were but one, and the object of their 
 power but one, even Jehovah's glory in the salvation 
 of sinners. 
 
 The Father loved, and concurred in the redemp- 
 tion of his chosen by Christ ; the Son loved, and bare 
 their sins in their nature, glorifying in that nature 
 all the attributes of the Godhead; the Spirit loved, 
 and engaged to make effectual the whole plan, by 
 fitting the heart to receive, and by carrying to the 
 heart, the benefits of eternal salvation. Thus God 
 was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself; Christ 
 fulfilled all that was given him to do ; the Spirit en- 
 livens, enlightens, and seals to the day of redemption. 
 This is the order of the covenant; beginning with 
 the Father, and, through the Son and Spirit, de- 
 scending from heaven to the salvation of his people; 
 but, in the order of their enjoyment of this covenant, 
 the Spirit begins with them, and they ascend by him, 
 next to the Son, and then to the Father. This is 
 a blessed mystery of faith, which (however plain in 
 the Scriptures) can only be understood truly in the 
 course of a gracious experience. No mere notions, 
 and especially of the carnal mind, can possibly reach 
 it. The tuition, or rather intuition, is altogether 
 divine. 
 
 What a blessed thing is it to believe and to know 
 assuredly, that the wisdom, will, affection, and power, 
 of all the Persons in Jehovah, are concerned in the 
 salvation of every poor sinner that repenteth ? What 
 a confidence of spirit ought not this to inspire in the 
 children of God ! If their Lord be thus engaged 
 
88 
 
 and concerned for their welfare, how can any of them 
 be lost, or fail of what he hath prepared for them ? 
 O my soul, rejoice in the love of the Father, Son, 
 and Spirit, that one God, who hath done such great 
 things for thee, and who will yet do more, yea, more 
 than eye hath seen, ear heard, or entered into the 
 heart of man to conceive. To this one God be 
 glory. Amen. Hallelujah. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 On the particular Design and Use of the several 
 Holy Scriptures. 
 
 Blessed Lord, " thy word is a lamp unto my 
 feet, and a light unto my path !" Without this 
 glorious revelation, I must have remained as I was 
 born, a poor, helpless, hopeless, and miserable sinner. 
 
 By this is thy servant taught the order and excel- 
 lency of thy first creation, when man was made in 
 righteousness and true holiness, and lived therefore 
 in tranquillity and peace. Hence I learn how he 
 fell from thee, and in falling, became spiritually dead, 
 and cut off from thy life in his soul ; while his body 
 received the seeds of dissolution, and began to die 
 from that very hour. I also am instructed to see 
 thy mercy proclaiming a Redeemer in the midst of 
 thy justice, which otherwise must have destroyed 
 or made wretched without remedy, my whole race. 
 Thou ordainest a covenant by sacrifice with the first 
 
89 
 
 believers, showing thereby in type and shadow the 
 great atonement of Jesus Christ, who, by thine own 
 everlasting covenant, was " the Lamb slain from be- 
 fore the foundation of the world." By faith in this 
 propitiation, they offered up their spiritual sacrifices, 
 when they presented before thee the appointed crea- 
 tures ; and " according to this faith they died, not 
 having received the promises, but having seen them 
 afar off, they were persuaded of them, and embraced 
 them, and confessed that they were strangers and 
 pilgrims on the earth." 
 
 By this holy word I also learn, how, for the dread- 
 ful impieties of the old world, thou broughtest on a 
 flood upon the earth, destroying all mankind but the 
 small remnant of one family. My eyes have seen 
 abundant testimonies of this truth, within the bowels 
 as well as upon the face of the globe; in beholding 
 what once lived upon the surface, at great depths be- 
 neath ; and what once inhabited the seas, upon the 
 tops of the highest mountains. 
 
 By thy blessed record I understand, that thou 
 madest a covenant with Noah, and Abraham, and the 
 other patriarchs, promising the great Saviour to them 
 and their seed. Thou didst suffer their offspring to 
 go down into Egypt, and broughtest them up again 
 with thy mighty hand, that by this thou mightest 
 proclaim a more glorious deliverance to thy people. 
 The plagues of Egypt were strong emblems of the 
 curses and evils which sin brings upon the souls of 
 all men by nature ; and thy visitations of Israel were 
 likewise representations of thy conduct in grace to- 
 wards all thy redeemed. To this day, thou deliverest 
 
90 
 
 thy people from the world and the devil by the blood 
 of the paschal Lamb, and sendest them forth from 
 the house of bondage, to become sojourners as in a 
 wilderness, " and to seek a better country and a 
 heavenly." 
 
 Thou didst appoint all the rites and ceremonies of 
 the holy law, to show forth the Saviour's love, life, 
 and death, till he should come. They are lively 
 prophecies, and wise memorials, of what he was to be, 
 and to do, and to suffer, for the salvation of poor 
 sinners. No mind but thine could have contrived 
 such a long train of mysterious truths, which were 
 all to be fulfilled; no power but thine could have 
 established and accomplished them all from age to 
 age ; no love but thine could have undertaken salva- 
 tion at so costly an expense, as the sufferings and 
 death of thy blessed Son. In this sacred volume, I 
 further read the conduct of thy providence, in pre- 
 serving the chosen remnant, and in punishing the 
 ungodly and profane. The histories of men are 
 composed by prejudice, and are full of falsehoods. 
 What passeth in my own time is so differently re- 
 presented by different men ; nay, what I have seen 
 myself hath been so variously seen and understood 
 by others; that, were he alike minded to report the 
 truth, our misapprehensions and errors are so many, 
 that through them the same facts would scarcely ap- 
 pear to be the same things. But thy record is faith- 
 ful and true, and spareth not the faults and evils of 
 any man, neither of thy chosen people as a nation, 
 nor of thy dearest children as individuals. Here I 
 nee thy constant love of holiness and hatred of sin. 
 
91 
 
 Here I read many great lessons of human infirmity, 
 and many strong proofs of thy forbearance, thy jus- 
 tice, or thy mercy. O let me, while I read, remem- 
 ber and understand ! 
 
 In this book of books, I am also instructed by 
 large and various prophecies given forth in deep and 
 mysterious words. By thy holy prophets thou hast 
 indeed spoken " at sundry times, and in divers man- 
 ners" or figures; but all their prophecies, whether 
 by symbol, type, vision, inspiration, or voice, declare 
 but one final purpose, even the salvation of souls by 
 Jesus Christ. His testimony was the very life and 
 spirit of all their predictions. 
 
 By other parts of this blessed volume, I am edi- 
 fied and built up in my most holy faith. The final 
 patience and self-renunciations wrought in Job, under 
 thy visitation, instruct me in the way of thy righte- 
 ousness. The Proverbs or similitudes, full of mystic 
 sense under moral ideas, teach me to look unto thee 
 for all my wisdom, grace, and strength. By one 
 book, I am convinced of the vanity and vexation of 
 all worldly things : and, by another, of the mysterious 
 height and depth of the love of Christ. I am also 
 taught what to sing, and how to sing, of thy won- 
 derful praises, by words which thine own Spirit hath 
 revealed, which millions of thy children have gra- 
 ciously communed with, and which infinitely exceed 
 all the compositions of men. They are words, re- 
 plete with prophecy and vigorous sense, and full of 
 sober joy in the faithful foresight of the prophecy 
 fulfilled. The love of Christ is the substance, the 
 form, yea, the very life and breath of all thy holy 
 Psalms. 
 
92 
 
 In thy gracious Gospels, dear Lord, I am taught 
 the accomplishment of every mystery and of the great 
 work of salvation, covenanted and foretold, in the 
 person, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and inter- 
 cession of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. O 
 what a picture do they hold forth of the meekness, 
 wisdom, grace, and compassion of that dear Redeemer ! 
 Lord, thou knowest how often " my heart hath 
 burned within me," when thou hast talked with me 
 by these records, " and while thou hast opened to me 
 the Scriptures." And yet thou knowest too, how 
 often I have been one of the " fools and slow of heart 
 to believe all that thy prophets have spoken." O 
 give me an understanding that is true ; and so shall 
 I be taught the delightful fulness of thy word ! 
 
 The life, deeds, and writings of thy holy apostles, 
 are, in thy blessed hands, most glorious and lively 
 demonstrations of thine everlasting truth. They 
 show me how thy saints have walked; and they en- 
 courage me to be a " follower of them, who now, 
 through faith and patience, inherit the promises." 
 O my gracious Master, strengthen me, as thou wert 
 pleased to strengthen them, with might by the Spirit 
 in the inner man ; and so shall I hold on and hold 
 out, till I receive, as they have received, the blessed 
 end of my faith in the salvation of my soul ! Thou 
 hast also been pleased to close the prophecy, and 
 to seal the vision, with an awful revelation, which 
 reacheth onward to the very ends of time, and almost 
 unveils the majesty of eternity itself. I read this 
 mystic book with solemn awe, and often tremble as I 
 read. Thy grace hath unfolded some little of its 
 
93 
 
 important mystery to my mind: O grant me more 
 understanding, so far as may be proper for my wel- 
 fare, or as my weakness in grace may be able to bear 
 it. Keep me from reading with my own eyes, which 
 are but carnal and cannot profit me, and let me be 
 thy disciple, and thy humble disciple alone ! The 
 ideas of this awful book are all framed upon the 
 figures and principles of the ancient part of thy 
 volume, and can only be apprehended according to 
 the intimate analogy which runs through the whole 
 of the record of salvation. 
 
 O Lord, I bless thee, I daily bless thee, for this 
 wonderful revelation of life and peace, which, if all 
 men could spiritually read, all men would confess, 
 that it is, and could be, of no origination but thine. 
 The impressions of divinity are so glorious and evi- 
 dent, that he that runs, if he hath but eyes, may 
 read and own them. And yet in nothing is this re- 
 cord more true, and in nothing is human experience 
 of it more strong and striking, than in this, that " no 
 man can believe" or understand a word of it to the 
 salvation of his soul, " unless it be given him from 
 above," unless all his instruction be imparted by thee. 
 Not that in thy book there is any defect indeed, but 
 wholly in the gross, sensual, and sinful apprehension 
 of fallen man. 
 
 M Open thou mine eyes, O Lord, and then shall 
 I behold wondrous things from thy law !" Things 
 hidden to carnal sense, but clear and obvious to the 
 view of that faith which thou givest to thy children. 
 I wait upon thee for this end. While I read and 
 while I write, while I praise and while I pray, I seek 
 
94, 
 
 /or thine instruction. I am a fool without thee; 
 but by thee I am made wise for eternity. Speak 
 then in thy holy word, for thy servant heareth ; and 
 enable me to lay up what I hear, like Mary, within 
 my heart, that I may be a true " scribe indeed, in- 
 structed in the kingdom of heaven, bringing forth, 
 out of the treasure of my heart, things new and old !" 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 The recollection of the First Part in Prayer to God. 
 
 O thou ever-blessed Jehovah, three Persons in 
 one Godhead, full of grace and full of glory, have 
 mercy upon me, a miserable sinner ! I am not wor- 
 thy so much as to look up to the throne of thy holi- 
 ness, being polluted in my nature, wicked in my life, 
 and covered entirely with innumerable transgressions. 
 But O, whither, whither shall I go for help and 
 succour, but unto thee, O Lord, who, for these my 
 manifold abominations, art most justly displeased ! 
 
 Wonderful goodness ! Thou hast commanded 
 me to come, and invited me to present myself before 
 thee, with most astonishing testimonies of favour and 
 acceptance. Thou hast found a way to make satis- 
 faction to thine offended majesty and justice, not by 
 my punishment and ruin so fully deserved, but by 
 the sufferings and death of thy dear Son. By him 
 thou hast magnified the law and made it honourable, 
 through an infinite and perfect righteousness, which 
 
95 
 
 he hath completed for it. For these wonderful ends, 
 by thine everlasting covenant, he took into his divi- 
 nity our human flesh, and became our Emmanuel, or 
 God with us. And so he became capable of suffer- 
 ing, doing, and substituting for his people, whom 
 thus he purchased, all that was given him from thee. 
 Having completed this whole work of salvation, he 
 is now ascended up on high, pleading and interceding 
 for poor sinners, that they might be partakers of his 
 glory. O how great was his love : stronger indeed 
 than death; mightier than sin and Satan; yea, al- 
 mighty to redeem ! 
 
 Holy Father, how great also was thy love in spar- 
 ing thine own Son from heaven for guilty worms, 
 and yet in not sparing him upon earth, when bearing 
 their nature and transgressions ! I am overwhelmed 
 with a sense of thine unutterable benignity and com- 
 passion, joined as it is with everlasting justice, purity, 
 and truth. 
 
 And, thou blessed Spirit, what do I owe unto 
 thee for all thy gracious work in my poor heart, 
 enslaved as it was by sin, and by nature departed as 
 it is from all righteousness ! Thou hast taken of 
 the things of Jesus, and explained, and enforced, and 
 enlivened them into my soul. By thee alone, I have 
 heard, and believed, all the mysteries of redemption 
 needful for me to know. By these I have experi- 
 enced some of them; and by thine aid I hope to ex- 
 perience more. Be with me throughout my pilgri- 
 mage, and, in these days of rebuke and blasphemy 
 against thy person, O grant me the evidence of thy 
 presence, by enabling me to abound in every good 
 word and work for thy glory ! 
 
96 
 
 O thou blessed Trinity ! thou Three-one- Jehovah ! 
 God in covenant for redeemed sinners ! God in truth 
 over all the world ! hear and regard my prayer ; ac- 
 cept and sanctify my praise. I adore thee for all thine 
 abundant mercy. I glorify thee, O Father, Son, 
 and Spirit, equal in nature, love, and majesty, with 
 earnest, though poor returns of gratitude and praise. 
 Receive me, and whatever I am and have, graciously, 
 for Jesus' sake, who is my Master, my Saviour, my 
 Priest, my Prophet, my King, my Lord, and my All, 
 and also thine only Son, in whom thou art well-pleased 
 for ever. 
 
 Lord, I am frail and full of wants. I am a poor, 
 weak, despised, and despicable man; and yet thine 
 own adopted child notwithstanding. Give, O give 
 me the Bread of Life, and lighten my dim eyes with 
 the light of life ; supply all my need, great and various 
 as it truly is, according to thy riches in glory by 
 Christ Jesus ! I bring a thousand and a thousand 
 wants, imperfections, and cares, before thee; and, 
 Lord, I can bring no other. These, and such as 
 these, are all I have both in body and in soul. O 
 then take me as I am, and make me what thou 
 wouldst have me to be ! I know not of myself what 
 is right, or good, or wise ; but thou knowest : there- 
 fore, I beseech thee, my blessed God, undertake 
 even for me. I have no refuge, but in thy power; 
 I have no hope, but in thy promises ; and I desire 
 nothing in this world, no, nor in the world to come, 
 but the sweetness, the testimony, the possession, the 
 glory, of thy great salvation. 
 
 O let the evidence of this salvation be made m ore 
 
97 
 
 and more clear to my mind, and the experience of it 
 more and more firm and solid to my soul, through 
 thy word and by thy Spirit. May I read, and un- 
 derstand ; may I understand, and grow ; till I come 
 to the stature and measure appointed for me. Keep 
 me from leaning on myself, lest I fall into error. 
 Help me to depend upon thee, that I may be led into 
 all the truth. So shall I praise thee with joyful lips, 
 and through my gracious Saviour, bless and adore 
 thee, O God, my God, for ever and ever ! 
 
PART II. 
 
 THE INWARD AND PRACTICAL EXPERIENCE OF 
 
 REDEMPTION IN THE HEART OF 
 
 THE BELIEVER. 
 
 £ 2 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN REMEMBRANCER. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 On Unbelief. 
 
 The corruption of our nature renders the life and 
 exercise of faith the most difficult affair in the world. 
 It is indeed far beyond ourselves. The apostle, 
 therefore, ascribes our believing to the exceeding 
 greatness of God's power, even to the effectual work- 
 ing of his mighty power. 
 
 Many talk of this believing, and yet but few have 
 attained it. A speculative assent to a chain of prin- 
 ciples is easy; but the grounding of the heart in 
 these principles upon Christ, and especially in times 
 of trial ; the giving up a man's self, as nothing ; the 
 patient waiting of the soul upon the truth and pro- 
 mise of God ; the cool and deliberate parting with 
 the things of sense for the things of the Spirit; the 
 discovery and suppression of carnal and corrupt mo- 
 tives in the heart; all these are matters which are 
 neither in the compass, nor taste, nor inclination of 
 flesh and blood. 
 
102 
 
 Hence it is, that when men are made serious by- 
 affliction, sickness, or the approach of death, they find 
 themselves so much at a loss for the use of that faith, 
 which perhaps, from a long profession, they did not 
 suspect they had wanted. O it is dreadful to be in 
 the dark, when we want the most light, and to have 
 no assurance of everlasting things, when we are called 
 to part for ever with the things of time \ 
 
 The soul, indeed, that never doubted, hath never 
 yet believed. The office of faith being to subdue 
 unbelief in all its activities, this often makes a sore 
 and difficult conflict in the soul : carnal reason looks 
 for the demonstrations of sense, and cannot receive 
 the things of the Spirit of God ; for these being in 
 their nature out of its comprehension, they appear 
 foolishness unto it; and therefore this weak and fleshly 
 reason cannot bring a strong and living confidence to 
 the soul. Faith is chiefly occupied in things above 
 animal sense, and often against it ; but reason, be- 
 ginning with ignorance, and proceeding upon doubt, 
 seeks its rest in sensation, and can rise no higher. 
 A man, therefore, cannot be reasoned by logical de- 
 ductions and convictions out of unbelief into faith, 
 but must be saved, through the gift and working of 
 the divine power, first to possess faith, and afterwards 
 to use it. 
 
 The mind likewise can never subdue its distressing 
 doubts by its own exercise ; but only by the gracious 
 help of God ; and the very looking for this help is 
 from faith. Faith brings indeed its proper evidences 
 with it; but these are all from the divine record, 
 which, by the demonstratiou of the Spirit, answer* 
 
103 
 
 the ignorant objections of carnal reason, and (what is 
 vastly beyond the power of all the reason in the 
 world) at once silences, satisfies, comforts, and renews 
 the mind. Thus faith relies, and the Spirit testi- 
 fies ; and this conjunction of what the soul is enabled 
 to yield with what in that act it immediately receives, 
 constitutes that full abundance of certitude, which 
 should be the grand aim of the children of God. 
 " After ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy 
 Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheri- 
 tance." 
 
 This is not the work of a day. Conflicts and 
 exercises are repeated continually ; because while flesh 
 remains in the believer, it will be unbelieving flesh, 
 ever expecting sensation instead of faith, though it 
 be directly contrary to God's method of salvation. 
 Man fell by disbelieving; and he is raised again 
 through believing. He is to trust God for every 
 thing, before he can have the true enjoyment of any. 
 
 Faith doth not take away all doubting, because it 
 doth not take away the body, nor the indwelling of 
 sin in that body ; but it subdues the reigning fury 
 and the raging prevalence of doubting. It mightily 
 attacks the body of sin, which is the grand cause of 
 doubting. It enlightens the understanding, so as to 
 enable it to discover truth from error ; and it softens 
 the heart, and gives it an affectionate tenderness to 
 the things of God, and an upright fear of sin. 
 Sometimes this precious faith obtains from the Chris- 
 tian such clear views, as makes him to wonder how he 
 could doubt at all. And yet the doubting will again 
 and again return, though perhaps with less frequency 
 
104 
 
 and strength. Its sudden attacks, however, are very- 
 distressing : and these are permitted of God, in order 
 to show, that the soul is not to live by any gift 
 imparted to it here, but simply and continually by that 
 faith, which leads the soul out of itself to God in all 
 its views and desires. 
 
 This is a difficult, though a daily and needful lesson. 
 Lord, teach it thy servant ; or the knowledge will be 
 too excellent and sublime for him to attain it ! Let 
 it also be not a lesson of theory and notion only, but 
 of practice and experience, that I may become skilful 
 in the word of righteousness, that the word may 
 " dwell richly in me in all wisdom," and that I may 
 know how to repel by it the sad assaults, which, while 
 I am here, will often be made against me. " O let 
 thy mercies come to me, O Lord ; even thy salvation, 
 according to thy word : so shall I have wherewith to 
 answer him that reproacheth me, for I trust in thy 
 word !" 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 How have I received Christ ? 
 
 The apostle says, " As ye have received Christ 
 Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him." I must there- 
 fore receive him, before I can walk in him at all. 
 It is a matter of the deepest consequence to my soul, 
 that I should do both. 
 
 How, then, Lord, did I receive thee ? Did I 
 
105 
 
 seek thee first, by my own will ? Alas ! I was gone 
 out of the way, like all other men ; I was altogether 
 become abominable, having no will for good, but 
 only for evil. Did I resolve to seek thee by my 
 best endeavours ? I must confess, with shame and 
 sorrow, that my resolutions were weaker to me than 
 Samson's bands were in his full strength to him; 
 and that the first or the least temptation led me 
 away. Could my sincere obedience merit thy favour ? 
 I see, that if a man could sincerely obey in his na- 
 tural state, but which indeed he cannot, having no 
 love to the work, but only a slavish fear of hell — S 
 Lord, I see that thy law requires, if I would be saved 
 by thy law, a sinless and perfect obedience, instead 
 of this insincere and defective one, upon pain of my 
 utter destruction. Thou hast said in thy word, that; 
 " he who offendeth in one point, is guilty of all," 
 and that " by the deeds of the law shall no man living 
 be justified." How then could I, who have offended 
 in so many points, be saved ? How then didst thou, 
 in thy righteousness, bring me to expect salvation ? 
 Lord, I was poor, and vile, and miserable ; I was 
 helpless, yet laden with iniquities ; I was wounded,. 
 and lying in my blood; my case and condition na 
 man knew, or, knowing it, could relieve. In the 
 midst of my misery was the appointed moment of 
 thy mercy. Into my deepest wounds thou didst pour 
 thy oil and thy wine. Thou alone cheeredst my heart, 
 with thy free salvation. In the view of what Christ, 
 had done and suffered for poor sinners like me, and 
 by thy gracious power applying this his twofold merit',' 
 joy and gladness came into my soul, yea, greater; 
 e 3 
 
106 
 
 than any found by men of the earth, " when their 
 corn, and wine, and oil, have increased." 
 
 Thy word was the instrument, and thy Spirit the 
 worker. He new-created me in Christ Jesus; he 
 renewed me in the spirit of my mind ; he made dark- 
 ness light before me, and rough places plain. By 
 his teaching I know thy truth, by his grace I enjoy 
 it, by his power I am kept therein, and shall be kept, 
 I trust, to the end. Lord, all the glory of conver- 
 sion wrought in me, and of thy complete salvation 
 wrought for me, wholly belongeth unto thee from 
 beginning to end ! 
 
 It was in this way I received Christ; and thy 
 word, O Lord, assureth me it is the true way ; be- 
 cause it giveth to thee all the glory, and secureth to 
 me all the benefit. In this way of humbly receiv- 
 ing, I must also walk continually. I have nothing 
 of my own but sin. Thou hast nothing, O my Re- 
 deemer, but grace and mercy for thy people. Help 
 me to receive out of this eternal fulness grace for 
 grace, according to my need, that I may walk unto 
 all well-pleasing, and adorn thy doctrine in all things. 
 I would love much, because much hath been for- 
 given me. I would serve heartily, because thou hast 
 kindly done great things indeed for me. I would 
 live holily, because it is the way to thy kingdom, 
 and the very happiness of thy kingdom itself. Let 
 me, my Saviour, be more like unto thee ; for, Lord, 
 I would be thine, and only thine, for ever ! 
 
 Thus my heart often venteth its desires : though 
 at times it is unsteady, dull, and ready to droop under 
 the weight and grossness of a sinful body. I have 
 
107 
 
 no remedy for this malady but Christ, sought for in 
 humble prayers. And when my prayers are faint 
 and drooping, as they too frequently are, I bewail 
 and am sick of myself; but I dare not leave him, 
 lest a worse evil befal me. I therefore, in compunc- 
 tion of spirit, cast myself down before him as low as 
 I can, praying for prayer, and entreating him that 
 he would not leave me to my evil self, but enliven 
 my soul with au answer of peace. When I can put 
 forth this act of faith, there is often peace in the act 
 itself which refreshes me, and usually comfort follows 
 upon it, or (what is better) more faith to throw all upon 
 him, and to live more by him, for the time to come. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 How do I live upon Christ ? 
 
 Alas ! my soul, in spiritual things thou too often 
 livest upon thyself. Thou seekest in frames, in 
 forms, in creatures, and in animal life, what is only 
 to be found in thy Redeemer, even a right inward 
 peace and stability of mind. Outward duties are 
 well in their place, but they have no divine life in 
 themselves, and can give none to thee. They are 
 to be performed, but not trusted in ; to be used with 
 grace, but not to buy grace. They are as the scaf- 
 fold to the building, a mean for carrying on the spiri- 
 tual work, but not the object or end of the great design. 
 In the power of Christ they are blessings; without 
 his power they have no life or help in them. 
 
108 
 
 Many treat the ordinances as a fair substitute for 
 a serious and constant watchfulness over themselves, 
 for patient devotedness to God, and for real holiness 
 of heart and life, instead of the mean, and only the 
 mean, which the Lord hath appointed, for leading 
 up the soul to all this, as their proper and indispen- 
 sable end. By such worshippers, the holy means 
 are turned into a profane and detestable idol, (as was 
 the case with some of old, Isaiah lxvi. 3.) in the 
 sight of the Lord, who doth not regard lip-service, 
 nor any carnal or corporal attentions only, " but the 
 poor and the contrite spirit," that can tremble at, 
 while it hears and believes, his holy word. 
 
 Remember this for thyself, O my soul. Thy first 
 and last trust must be in Jesus. He is the way, 
 the truth, and the life. Without him, all prayers, 
 praises, rites, and ordinances, dwindle into carcasses, 
 without a soul. Every performance will be carnal 
 and corporal, unless the Saviour fill it with his Di- 
 vine Spirit : and when this comes, then there is a 
 sweet communion of heart with Christ, and a blissful 
 reviving of the soul. Then, behind the veil of out- 
 ward ordinances, there appears a delightful view of 
 the Lord in his goodness, beauty, grandeur, blessed- 
 ness, and glory ; and such a view as no carnal eye can 
 behold, and no unrenewed mind understand or con- 
 ceive. 
 
 Mere professors stick in the flesh, and mistake 
 the worship of the body, and the motion of the lips, 
 for the love, taste, action, and adoration of the soul. 
 Religion is too sublime for those, who are rather 
 carried through a course than live in it. The road 
 
109 
 
 indeed may be a good one ; but these no more travel 
 therein, than a corpse borne along in a hearse can 
 be said to be making a journey. 
 
 My soul, thy life and thy liveliness are all laid up 
 in Christ, and are to be drawn from him according to 
 thy need. Thou hast no stock left to thy own dis- 
 posal. As the manna was received daily from above, 
 so thou must live out of thyself for thy spiritual daily 
 bread. Having pleaded thy pardon by his blood, and 
 thy justification by his righteousness, thou must live 
 on him for grace still to plead both, to enjoy the effect 
 of both, to commune with him from time to time, to 
 deny thyself, to renounce the world and the devil, to 
 master corruptions, to be growing wiser in his wordj 
 and more rich in its experience, and, in short, to u^e 
 him continually for thine all in all. The whole of 
 this is spiritual, and therefore difficult work; and thou 
 art quite unable to perform it in any respect, but 
 through that strength which is made perfect in weak- 
 ness. If Christ indeed be thy life, then, because 
 he liveth, thou shalt live also. 
 
 In living thus upon Christ, thou art to live above 
 thyself, and certainly above every thing which thou 
 by thyself canst perform. This is the true and su^ 
 blime life of the " inner man," which is not corrupt- 
 ible, nor dependeth for vigour upon corruptible things. 
 It is therefore a hidden life. " Ye are dead," says 
 the apostle, " and your life is hid with Christ in 
 God." No outward or carnal eye can see it at all, 
 except in some of its holy outward effects, the true 
 excellence of which it cannot apprehend : and the 
 spiritual understanding of other believers can only 
 
110 
 
 discern its inward truth and growth, but in proportion 
 as they themselves are spiritually grown up in Christ 
 Jesus the Lord. A mere reasoner in religion knows 
 nothing of the matter. He, who hath never left 
 himself, nor truly disowned his own wisdom, right- 
 eousness, and strength, hath never yet come to 
 Christ, nor rightly believed in him. 
 
 As thou art not to live upon thyself, O my soul, 
 so thou canst not live this true life by the aid or 
 opinions of others. If they are instruments of good 
 to thee, it is thy heavenly Father who employeth 
 them for that end. They themselves, as well as 
 thou, must live upon him for all their wisdom, grace, 
 and strength, and not " by the life of their own 
 hand." Christ is, and must be, as much their life 
 as he is thine. 
 
 Thou sometimes waxest and wanest in thy duties, 
 as the moon in her light. At one time thou art 
 full of spiritual appetite and vigour ; at another, in 
 lowness and want of strength. The cause is not in 
 the Sun of Righteousness, who is always alike; but 
 in thee, who turnest not the same aspect always to 
 him, and therefore hast not always the same light 
 and heat. If thou thinkest to get brightness from 
 the stars around thee, instead of thy Sun, thou wilt 
 be like the dark part of the moon turned away from 
 the natural sun, which often scarcely appears, or, 
 when it doth, appears as dull as it is cold. In all 
 providences, ordinances, and situations, Christ must 
 be thy point of view, thy succour, thy light, thy life, 
 and thy all; or they will be found, however excellent 
 in his hand, only beggarly elements in thine. 
 
Ill 
 
 In all things that are truly divine and spiritual, 
 the flesh soon becomes weary, and flags, and fails. 
 When the exercise grows difficult, especially, then 
 corrupt nature soon declines, and cannot sustain or 
 endure the toil. Hence it is, that so many seem to 
 receive the word with joy, and to run well for a time, 
 who, when persecutions or trials arise, having no root 
 in themselves, begin to find dislikes and offences, and 
 so presently fall away. Their fallow hearts have not 
 been broken up deeply enough by the gospel-plough 
 (that is, the law) to cover well the gospel-seed. 
 The seed of the word hath never been " hidden in 
 the heart ;" and so hath taken no root downward in 
 humble and secret contrition, nor grown into sub- 
 stance upwards, to " bring forth fruit unto perfection." 
 
 This hidden and spiritual life is often most active 
 and strong, when the flesh is lowest and hath least 
 to do. " Be silent, O all flesh, before the Lord : 
 for he is raised up out of his holy habitation." 
 When the Lord is risen upon the soul, all that is 
 weak and carnal is as nothing before him. A sweet 
 proof of this may sometimes be found in sick and 
 dying believers. How do they triumph in spirit, 
 with a glorious liveliness, over all the debilities of a 
 dying body ! " When their heart and their flesh 
 fail," God then appears most eminently to be the very 
 " strength of their heart, and their portion for ever." 
 There is a " knowledge of Christ after the flesh, 
 which will carry men a great way into all the splen- 
 dours of religious profession. It shall make a man 
 look and talk seriously ; carry him constantly to or- 
 dinances; give him great personal zeal and confidence; 
 
112 
 
 enable him to be very exact in all outward discipline 
 and form of doctrine ; nay, it shall bring him with a 
 fervent activity (if a minister) into the pulpit, help 
 him to deliver perhaps sound discourses with seeming 
 earnestness and able oratory, so that multitudes shall 
 hear and admire, and possibly be wrought upon by 
 him ; and yet in himself it may be mere flesh, and be 
 the poor low knowledge of Christ by the flesh, after 
 all. There is sometimes a little true life in this, 
 and then it is strengthened and refined by trials and 
 temptations; but when there is none, then by time or, 
 trouble, or some other thing, it will finally fall away: 
 " If they had really been of us, no doubt they would 
 have continued with us." 
 
 O my soul, there are depths of Satan, as well as 
 of God ; and there is no security for thee, but in re- 
 nouncing the flesh, and all the secret as well as open 
 works of the flesh, and by following Jesus humbly and 
 thoroughly in the regeneration. In the poverty of 
 carnal nature the Lord will manifest the riches of his 
 grace. Thou must be poor in thine own spirit, or 
 thou canst not be rich in his. " He filleth the 
 hungrv with good things; but those that are in- 
 creased with their own goods, or build upon their 
 own spiritual or temporal attainments, he will always 
 send empty away." 
 
 O Lord, look upon me a poor and helpless crea- 
 ture, who cannot so much as look up to thee for aid, 
 without thy special grace for that end. How can I 
 live upon thee, my Saviour, unless thou come down 
 to me in this dark and wretched world, and visit me 
 with thy salvation ! I have waited for thy salvation, 
 
113 
 
 O Lord ; and I would still patiently wait in all the 
 ways of thine appointment, expecting thy presence 
 in this troubled pool to bless me. I expect thee, and 
 only thee. None else can do me good. My soul 
 craveth for true and immortal life, and this is thy 
 gift : O give it unto me ! In all thy means of grace, 
 let my h eart wait for thy grace by the means. " Teach 
 me to bless thee for means, when I have them; and 
 to trust thee for them, when I have them not ; yea, 
 to trust thee without means, when I have no hope of 
 them." Without thy presence all outward things 
 are barren and dry : and my soul can find no susten- 
 ance; lead me, O my gracious Shepherd, by thine 
 own hand to the green pastures, and beside the waters 
 of thy holy rest ; restoring my soul, and conducting 
 me in the paths of righteousness for thy name's sake. 
 So shall I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
 death, neither fearing nor finding any evil, and at 
 length arrive at the heavenly house of my God, in 
 which I shall dwell for ever. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 On Self-seeking. 
 
 As thev that are in the flesh cannot please God 
 at all, so they that follow the flesh in any instance, 
 do so far displease him. This flesh is a subtle ad- 
 versary, and will creep into our duties as well as our 
 sins ; mixing itself, under a thousand forms, into al- 
 most all that we can say, or think, or do. 
 
114 
 
 Who could expect to feel this deceiver in the 
 deepest contrition of soul, or to find him in peals of 
 groans, and showers of tears ? Yet self will endea- 
 vour to make a man proud of this very humility, be 
 plumed upon his own abasements, and be fancying 
 himself something, in the midst of his confessions 
 about his vileness and nothingness. 
 
 A poor soul shall own itself, with much pain and 
 sincerity, to be a miserable sinner ; and self, from this 
 very acknowledgment, will stir up a notion of worth 
 in the creature, and give it to believe that there are 
 some seeds, at least, of excellency within itself, which 
 others have not, and for having of which he is higher 
 or better than they. Self will bid some men confess 
 themselves sinners, that they may be considered as 
 saints. To take them at their word, would mortify 
 and displease them. 
 
 When the heart of the believer is melted in duty, 
 and enjoys the liveliest frame of communion and love, 
 how often and how much is self to be found therein, 
 either attempting to puff up with a high opinion, or 
 to instil a carnal security, concerning its spiritual 
 interest and welfare? If it can abate the power and 
 watchfulness of faith, it will lay a ground of distress 
 to the believer in the next trial ; so that he will soon 
 find himself to be yet in the flesh, and that, as one 
 says, " He must never think to put oft* his armour, 
 till he is ready for others to put on his shroud." 
 
 A man may appear excellent in religious conver- 
 sation, and be eminent in public duties ; he may speak 
 and write much, and perhaps well, upon the things of 
 God, and may recommend them with zeal to others; 
 
115 
 
 and yet so much of self may be in all, that, when he 
 looks over his heart and discovers it, he will rather 
 find reason to be ashamed of the whole, than to be 
 satisfied with any one part of it. I know not whe- 
 ther, in writing these pages, there be not so much of 
 this evil mixing itself, as to defile and almost nullify 
 any good that may be in them. And though I can 
 humbly look to God for the sincerity and upright- 
 ness of my general aim, yet such are my apprehen- 
 sions of my own carnality, vanity, emptiness, and 
 self-love, and of the sinfulness of giving them indul- 
 gence, in serious things especially, that I am some- 
 times inclined to throw the whole aside. I see this 
 hateful principle in almost every thing I can say or 
 do, and am ashamed of myself, and of it ; but still it 
 rises again and again, though often detected; and 
 therefore I am obliged continually to cast myself, with 
 a redoubled sense of my mean, weak, vain, and vile 
 condition by nature, upon the sole and free mercy 
 of God my Saviour. 
 
 In success of duty for God, and in being the in- 
 strument of good to others, this selfishness of our 
 hearts will endeavour, if not to rob God entirely of 
 his glory, yet at least to share with him in it. Self 
 will be pleased, because we ourselves have been con- 
 cerned, because we have been honoured, and because 
 by us the Lord hath been magnified in the souls of 
 others. It is self which is vexed, when this is not 
 the case, and when we have toiled for nothing, or 
 others have caught the fishes. Whereas our spirits 
 should rejoice in the will of the Lord, and be as much 
 pleased when his work prospers in other hands, as in 
 
116 
 
 our own. And thus indeed they would rejoice, if 
 this corrupt self did not mix with and seek its own 
 establishment in the most spiritual exercises of our 
 souls. We too much forget, that we are only instru- 
 ments, and that we can do no more of ourselves for 
 God, than our pens can write down our thoughts, when 
 not taken up by our hands. 
 
 All this may serve to show, what a severe jealousy 
 we should hold concerning ourselves. We should 
 not only pray, but watch unto prayer ; we should both 
 perform our religious duties with zeal, and should well 
 examine the zeal with which we perform them ; we 
 should abound in every work and labour of love, and 
 should entreat for wisdom and grace, that flesh and 
 self may not abound in them too; we should ask 
 again and again for a single eye and a simple heart, 
 that all the glory of every good may be given to God, 
 its right owner, and that we may be kept in our true 
 place, admiring his mercy, and showing forth, with 
 humble simplicity, his honour and praise. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 On the different appearances of Grace in different 
 Persons. 
 
 " There are diversities of operations, but it is 
 the same God who worketh all in all." Some be- 
 lievers are remarkable for the strength of their faithJ 
 in trials even unto death ; others for their liveliness 
 and activity in duty ; others for their wisdom, con- t 
 
117 
 
 duct, and prudence, both in temporals and spirituals ; 
 others for their zeal in defence of the truth ; others 
 for their knowledge in the mysteries of the truth; 
 others for their patience, meekness, and gentleness ; 
 others for their submission to the will of God; others 
 for outward usefulness in the church ; and others for 
 an inward and spiritual life of communion with God. 
 But all these are the various gifts and graces of the 
 Holy Spirit, " dividing to every man severally as he 
 will," and not the talents or abilities of fallen nature. 
 They are also " given to every man" who hath them, 
 " to profit withal," according to his place in the 
 church or in the world. He who hath one of these 
 graces, should not undervalue or despise him who 
 hath another; for the Giver is the same, though his 
 gifts may be granted for different ends. 
 
 Very often particular graces are bestowed to coun- 
 teract and oppose particular corruptions, of which the 
 Lord himself can be the only true judge. The situa- 
 tions of some Christians require gifts of grace, which 
 might be less necessary, or less manifestive of the 
 divine glory in others, than they would be in them. 
 The Lord distributeth wisely and kindly to all his 
 people, according to their day and duty, or according 
 to his own designs in them and for them. But they 
 are all of them his workmanship, and could, not more 
 in graces than in nature, either create or fashion 
 themselves. 
 
 This should teach thee, my fellow-christian, a les- 
 son of forbearance to thy brethren. It is not always 
 right for thee to judge another by thine own pattern. 
 He may have graces, not less pleasing to God, nor less 
 
118 
 
 useful in their purpose, than those which are given > 
 to thee. Art thou a warm and active Christian? 
 Condemn not him whose endowments may be more 
 placid and contemplative than thine. He who now i 
 creeps as a snail in humble silence, may, by one lift i 
 of divine power, get into heaven before thee, and i 
 perhaps be raised higher there than thou. God judg- 
 eth not like man, according to the outward show, but 
 according to the secret riches of his love. Art thou 
 a quiet and retired believer ? Do not censure him 
 who is called forth to more stirring duty than thou 
 art. Though his work may seem less spiritual to, 
 thee, it may be to introduce designs of providence 
 and grace, which only God can foreknow, and which 
 may be the means of carrying out his saving power 
 far and wide. Some of the first reformers were less 
 remarkable for a quiet and gentle spirit, than others 
 who have followed them ; but these last do not seem 
 so fit instruments for grappling with papal outrage 
 and tyranny as they were. When rough work is to 
 be done, men use the axe and the saw; but for 
 gentler operations, the plane, the razor, or the knife. 
 These last would not cut down a forest; nor would I 
 the first serve to polish or smooth. 
 
 Honour then the work and blessing of God upon 
 his people, in what form soever it may be found. 
 Every member hath his appointed office from him. 
 It is self-love and conceit, which disparage others; 
 and these we will not call " gifts from above," but 
 rather worms from beneath, which seek to gnaw the 
 root of the vine. Covet, indeed, and earnestly, the 
 best gifts ; but the love of God and man, is, after 
 all, the more excellent way. 
 
119 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 On the Difference of Myself from Myself. 
 
 Lord, how variable a creature am I ! Unstable 
 as water, changeable as wind, different as the wea- 
 ther, when I am left, in any instance or degree, to 
 myself. One of our English kings, from his slack- 
 ness, was called the unready ; and the same name, 
 with respect to my best concerns, will too often serve 
 for me. 
 
 Sometimes I have a fair day of comfort and hope ; 
 but the clouds come on again, and gather blackness 
 over my soul. Suavis hora, brevis mora : short and 
 sweet was the hour of my spiritual delight; but the 
 time of my dulness and drooping hath been frequent 
 and long. 
 
 Blessed be thy name, O Lord, that my real state 
 with thee doth not depend upon my vigour, liveliness, 
 and constancy, but upon those only sure grounds, 
 thy faithfulness, mercy, omnipotence, and truth. 
 Whatever I am or may be in myself, thou art and 
 wilt be always the same, and always the same to me. 
 
 The time, or rather the eternity, is at hand, when 
 my state will be unchangeable, and my frames will 
 be unchangeable too. The crowns of glory cannot 
 fade; nor those who wear them alter or decay. I 
 shall both know, as I am known, and in all things 
 shall be like to my immutable and glorious Saviour, 
 when I get into his kingdom. 
 
120 
 
 Why then should my present variations distress 
 me ? I live not by them, nor for them, but upon a 
 higher principle, and for a more exalted end. This 
 is the time of faith, in which I must wrestle, and 
 labour, and strive, against all the disadvantages of 
 an evil nature and an evil world ; and I am to look 
 for strength from Christ, who will be honoured in 
 my weakness and deficiency, which compel me to 
 give up myself incessantly to him. He is engaged 
 to preserve me by his own oath and unchangeable 
 covenant; and therefore, come fair, come foul; let 
 me have either comfort or sorrow ; all must be well 
 at the last, for he hath promised, and most assuredly 
 will give me, a safe and abundant entrance into 
 heaven. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 On Bridling the Tongue. 
 
 It hath been a frequent confession of wise and 
 good men, that they have often lamented their speak- 
 ing too much, but seldom their holding the tongue. 
 In the multitude of words there will be some folly, 
 something that will not tend to edification, some- 
 thing that may rather weary and offend, than delight 
 and improve. 
 
 This evil of over-speaking usually comes from an 
 over-weening opinion of self. Unchastised and un- 
 subdued self is fond of its own display ; although it 
 
121 
 
 can display nothing, or, were it not deceiving or 
 deceived, nothing but its own wretchedness and ruin. 
 The apostle hath a striking hint for professors of 
 religion : " If any man among you seem to be reli- 
 gious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his 
 own heart, this man's religion is vain." 
 
 What is our end in religious conversation ? If 
 we speak without a purpose, surely it is folly. If 
 we speak for our own praise, it is a wrong to our 
 own souls, and a robbery of God. If we speak for 
 his honour, and the edification of others, we should 
 look up to him for his blessing, that our words, as 
 they ought, may be weighty and wise. In this 
 humble dependence upon God, and with a warm and 
 generous concern for the spiritual welfare of others, 
 our discourse may be comfortable and edifying, both 
 to them and to ourselves. A word in season, thus 
 spoken, may be remembered and blessed. The more 
 of this kind of conference the better; care being 
 taken of the spirit in which we speak, of the time 
 and propriety of speaking, and of not mixing other 
 things, as is too often the case, with our religious 
 discourse, which may render it trifling or unsavoury. 
 When we have said all that we could wish to say 
 upon divine things, it will be profitable to withdraw, 
 that there may be a due opportunity for reflection, 
 meditation, digestion, and prayer. 
 
122 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Upon False Appearances. 
 
 The whole world walketh in a masquerade, or, 
 as the Scripture calls it, an image, or " vain show." 
 Scarcely any man would appear as he is, but as he is 
 not, before others ; and he loves to indulge even his 
 own mind in the same deceitful view of himself. 
 The more artfully he can put on the veil, the finer 
 man he seems, often in his own esteem, generally in 
 the esteem of others; and nothing mortifies him more 
 than when some wind of trial blows this veil but a 
 little aside, so that others perceive a part at least of 
 what he hath been always very industrious to conceal. 
 
 This disguiseful clothing is the handiwork of evil 
 and corrupt nature, fallen from the truth and purity 
 of God into a strong love and likeness of the per- 
 plexed and foolish subtlety, which fully occupies that 
 being who is the father and author of lies from the 
 beginning. To plead for this dissimulation as some 
 have done, is to turn advocate for the evil one, whose 
 fees are vanity and vexation in this world, and some- 
 thing worse in the world to come. 
 
 Our depraved nature cannot bear to see its own 
 wickedness, and much less to have it exposed. What 
 shifts and turns, what labours and difficulties, will it; 
 not encounter, to obtain a great name and opinion, 
 although it be but a false one ? And how will it be 
 delighted, as with a prize, in the fleeting breath of 
 
123 
 
 dying creatures, who have only for a memorial of 
 themselves some filthy monument of sin or of shame? 
 To be open and sincere, is counted a weakness ; be- 
 cause it lowers a man's power of taking those advan- 
 tages for interest and fame, which all men by nature 
 are pursuing, and which, in a state of nature, they 
 think to be the only object worth pursuing, as the 
 highest and greatest good. 
 
 And, alas ! how much of this disguise is brought 
 into the things and church of God ! I lament, for 
 one, how prone I am to cheat myself, and to wish 
 more for the esteem of others, than I ought to think 
 of, or than I can possibly deserve ! I would be all 
 fair, and valuable, and excellent, and what not, in 
 their esteem ; while I am conscious to myself, that 
 there is within me so much vanity, weakness, dul- 
 ness, wretchedness, and evil, as might justly suffice 
 to render me in their eyes, what any of them, that can 
 look into themselves, must appear to be in their own. 
 I have displeased some whom I did not intend to 
 displease ; and others have offended me, perhaps with 
 a contrary intention. The same persons and myself 
 have been mutually satisfied at one time, and dis- 
 satisfied at another ; and wherefore ? Not because 
 my nature or theirs was better or worse at any time ; 
 but only because it sometimes discovered itself more 
 according to the occasion : and when it drops the 
 disguise of goodness which we can regard, or dis- 
 covers itself too plainly, sinners as we are, we do not 
 love it, so odious and depraved is it become since the 
 original ruin. We cannot love it in others, nor others 
 because of it ; though we are at a world of pains to 
 f2 
 
124 
 
 conceal, to indulge, or to dress off, the ugly monster 
 in ourselves. 
 
 It is this depravity, which hath begotten hypo- 
 crisy not only in the world at large, or in courts or 
 particular callings of men, where certainly it doth 
 reign absolutely and universally, but also in religious 
 profession, where surely it ought not. It hath 
 reigned especially in this last, since it hath been 
 esteemed a scandal not to be called a Christian. It 
 is true, indeed, that the appearance of religion is 
 certainly better than the appearance of evil ; but, 
 however, when men seek to appear religious, for the 
 selfish honour or carnal comfort which may follow 
 from others upon account of it, they only seek them- 
 selves, and are but the less truly religious for their 
 professions. 
 
 Why am I grieved if others think lightly of my 
 gracious attainments ? — Because I am grown unjustly 
 great in my own esteem for things which are not my 
 own, but given to me. But doth not this very grief 
 prove that their judgment is but too right, and that 
 my real stature is not so tall as I think it ? If I 
 were humbled in myself, in some degree, as I ought 
 to be, (for, in the full and just degree, no man can 
 be humbled in this life,) I should approve their sin- 
 cerity towards me, and contentedly sit down before 
 them in the lowest room. Their low opinion would 
 not hurt me, because it would be the same as my 
 own. The vileness of my heart, and the low pro- 
 gress I have made in Christian experience, are in- 
 deed sufficient to humble me every day I breathe ; 
 and it is only my own blindness, or a falseness to 
 
125 
 
 myself, that leads me to forget either my own real 
 condition, or the place where I ought to stand. 
 
 We are not naturally honest to ourselves ; and we 
 do not wish that others should deal too plainly and 
 strictly with us. If we were truly honest and wise, 
 (and grace only can make us so in any degree,) we 
 should meekly hear, and even wish to hear, of our own 
 frailties, errors, and defects, that we might grow the 
 true Christian growth, which doth not consist in the 
 favourable opinion of men and of our own minds ; but 
 in lowliness of heart, and spirituality of life, respect- 
 ing ourselves ; in patience, quietness, and good-will 
 with regard to others ; in contrition, humiliation, and 
 submission before God. 
 
 Professors also live too much outwardly. Religion 
 is carried often into the strong animal passions, not 
 to subdue, but to feed them. Hence the poor anger 
 and violence of a corrupted nature, are frequently 
 mistaken for zeal, for life, and for power. But 
 noise, and bustle, and tumult, and hurry ; the agita- 
 tions of temper, and strong concerns for influence or 
 authority, or direction among men ; the parade of re- 
 ligion, or the superiority of a party — may all be car- 
 ried on with very small degrees of real grace, and 
 perhaps with none at all. Diotrephes loved to have 
 the pre-eminence ; but this could not suppress his 
 inward bitterness, nor increase the si^ns of his Chris- 
 tian calling : 3 John 9. If we do not live for God 
 in our religion, we must live outwardly, and so shall 
 endeavour to make a " fair show in the flesh ;" but 
 if we indeed have his presence, the truest part of 
 our life will be hidden, and we shall much and gladly 
 
126 
 
 retire within to enjoy it. The most certain sign of our 
 real growth will be, the sinking into ourselves as vile- 
 ness and nothing ; the being thought meanly of with 
 content, if not pleasure ; and the rising up of our 
 souls towards God with private delight, ardour, affec- 
 tion, and constancy. All this may be done before 
 Him who seeth in secret, far better than in the 
 corners of the streets, or places of public resort. 
 We shall aim, through grace, to be gracious, rather 
 than to appear so. 
 
 This hidden life my soul pants for, O Lord, thou 
 knowest ! whatever becomes of my outward respect 
 among men. If I have the more of thee for the 
 loss of this, it will be indeed most rich amends. Nay, 
 it will be better for me to be without human regards, 
 lest I should grow more proud than I already am, 
 and so lose that blessed sight of thee, which I al- 
 ways enjoy most sweetly and clearly in the deepest 
 renunciation and depression of myself. O make me 
 more and more dead to the opinion of even gracious 
 men, that my poverty and meanness may be ever be- 
 fore me, and that in all forms and circumstances I 
 may constantly be relinquishing myself, so that I may 
 have more inward and intimate fellowship, friendship, 
 complacency, and nearness, with thee ! 
 
 Careless, myself a dying man, 
 
 Of dying men's esteem ; 
 Happy, O Lord, if thou approve, 
 
 Though all beside condemn. 
 
127 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 On the Spirit of the World. 
 
 Nothing more fully proves the fall of man from 
 his original creation, than the opposition and temper 
 of his soul, while in his natural state, to the things 
 of God. His wishes, his hopes, his labours, his 
 principles of action and thinking, are all turned di- 
 rectly another way. " God is not" really, whatever 
 a man of the world may speculate, " in all his 
 thoughts." He is without God ; or rather, in sober 
 truth, he is, as the apostle calls him, an atheist in 
 the world. 
 
 Hence it is, that the people of the world have, in 
 all ages, reputed the people of God either to be fools, 
 in not laying themselves out for such things as wholly 
 engage themselves, or knavish hypocrites, who only 
 take a pretended spiritual method to accomplish the 
 same carnal and selfish ends. And if they can find 
 an instance or two (as they often have done, and 
 may do) to confirm this opinion, O how do they in- 
 sult over professors of all kinds, and run down religion 
 itself, as though it were a trap or an engine for all 
 manner of deceit, or at best, a whimsical paradise, 
 framed by superstition for dunces and fools ! 
 
 On the other hand, how wild, mad, besotted, and 
 phrenetic, do all the agitations of these men seem to 
 the Christian, in his retired and considerate hours ! 
 They are pursuing, in his view, lies and shadows, 
 
128 
 
 vapours and dreams. They grasp after something, 
 scarcely knowing what. Ever restless, they are 
 always upon the hunt ; but never finding, never sa- 
 tisfied. They live weary and tired lives, full of envy, 
 disappointment, and care : and they die hopeless 
 deaths, either in abject terror at what may come 
 upon them hereafter, or in the stupid opinion, that 
 God created them only to live for a while like mag- 
 gots upon the trash of the earth, and then at last to 
 be thrown into a hole to rot away into nothing., 
 Such is the sordid spirit, such the wisdom and the 
 hope of this world ! 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 On the Pride of the Heart. 
 
 Most of the discomforts of our lives arise from 
 the pride of our hearts, unmortined and unsubdued. 
 Did I think as meanly and humbly of myself, as 
 from the knowledge of my weakness and sinfulness I 
 ought, the contempt or the insult of others would 
 not hurt or afflict me. But I am false to myself, 
 and therefore lifted up, assuming to my vile nature 
 what it hath no right to expect ; and I am false to 
 others, wearing appearances to create respect and 
 esteem ; which is walking in a mask, and rendering 
 myself foolishly proud. If men saw me, and I saw 
 them, as we really are, we should none of us be much 
 inclined to boast of ourselves; but our glorying must 
 either cease, or else be wholly in the Lord. 
 
129 
 
 This pride hath occasioned to my soul a world of 
 trouble, both when it hath reigned unsubdued, and 
 while, through grace and trials, it hath been in the 
 acts of subduing. 
 
 When it is unsubdued, the heart is open to all 
 manner of mortifications. A look, a gesture, or a 
 word, shall put it to pain ; and when this pain rages, 
 the passions will begin to rave, and throw the whole 
 frame into a miserable violence and disorder. Out- 
 ward opposition will make it worse. The inflamma- 
 tion then grows often to a degree of phrenzy, which 
 nothing hardly can soothe or allay. And it is one 
 of the wonders of providence, that this pride of man, 
 when combined and raging in multitudes, doth not 
 confound all order and rules more than it doth, and 
 utterly ruin and destroy the world. 
 
 To subdue this sore evil, " the pride of heart and 
 life," and all its effects, in his people, is one great 
 end of God in afflicting dispensations. They are 
 high in themselves ; and it is necessary for their good 
 that they should be brought down. Whatever an- 
 swers this end, come in what shape it may, it is all a 
 blessing. 
 
 Did such a one use me ill, or speak contemptu- 
 ously of me ? As David said of Shimei, it is because 
 the Lord hath permitted him. — Hath he treated me 
 as I deserve ? Why then am I angry ? He hath 
 been to me a messenger of truth, whatever were his 
 intentions, with which I have nothing to do; and, 
 therefore, let me own the truth, and fall down in 
 abasement and contrition before God. — Is the cen- 
 sure false ? I have no right to be offended : he hath 
 f 3 
 
ISO 
 
 not hit me, but himself, and becomes therefore the 
 object of my prayer. If, in this instance, his con- 
 demnation hath been wrong, my heart knoweth in 
 how many others, and perhaps in worse, it would 
 have been just and right. In every view, I have no 
 fair claim to be flattered with the applauses of men, 
 but to be humbled in myself for the constant weak- 
 ness, worthlessness, and evil, that cleave to me in all 
 things. If I felt this as I ought, and walked as I 
 ought, in the continual sense of it, I should be 
 ashamed to be proud, and should abhor myself, for 
 the bold injustice and iniquity of being so, in dust 
 and ashes. 
 
 I believe that some Christians have more trials 
 and afflictions in the flesh than others, because there 
 is more natural stubbornness of pride and wilfulness 
 in them. The Lord will have these to be subdued. 
 And he suiteth all his chastisements, with great and 
 unerring wisdom, to the occasion. If they thought 
 of this aright, they would not be so much in care how 
 to get rid of the visitation, as to have the design of 
 it answered within them. They would pray to be 
 humbled under the mighty hand of God, that he 
 might exalt them in the right way, and in the due 
 time. 
 
 It is my pride, and my self-will, which proceeds 
 from pride, that render me so uneasy with God and 
 with others. Were I truly lowly, and deeply sensible 
 of my own condition, not the opinion and hard words 
 of others, but my own sin, would chiefly offend me. 
 I am imperfect, as in all other graces, so especially 
 in humility ; and therefore I fret in myself, and am 
 
151 
 
 inclined to speak, and to render evil for evil. O 
 Lord, help me, a poor feeble man, and hide pride 
 from mine eyes ! Suffer me not to fall upon this 
 stumbling-block, which hath overturned the world ; 
 but help me to follow Jesus, who was meek and lowly 
 in heart, and by him to find rest to my soul ! 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Comparison between Carnal and Spiritual Wisdom. 
 
 Carnal wisdom is the highest attainment of the 
 carnal mind. It is an exhibition of fallen man in his 
 fairest and most cultivated form ; and is therefore the 
 aim and desire of the best of natural men. 
 
 This wisdom, (for we will call it at present by that 
 name,) arising from a depraved and corrupt principle, 
 is necessarily weak and corrupt likewise. It seeks 
 earthly and carnal things ; is occupied entirely upon 
 them, and looks no higher, and finds no more, when 
 left to its own inclinations and powers. This wisdom, 
 therefore, is called, in the Scripture, " earthly, sen- 
 sual, devilish." It acts only upon and for this pre- 
 sent world: it is plunged in the sensuality and designs 
 of it through an earthly evil nature : it is, like Satan, 
 in total opposition to the will and holiness of God, 
 serving, as its last end, the creature instead of the 
 Creator. 
 
 Thus the learned man is proud of his knowledge, 
 as it gives him superiority over others: the statesman, 
 
132 
 
 by his political understanding, pursues and triumphs 
 in his own grandeur : the merchant, by his skill in 
 trade, heaps up to himself riches : the mechanic, by 
 his art and ingenuity, assumes his peculiar distinc- 
 tion : the carnal divine (for such a one there may be) 
 is learned, and zealous for his party or profession, or 
 for his own carnal exaltation in it. In short, it is 
 no matter whether the means be high or low, but 
 every natural man, of every condition, employs all 
 his understanding and all his powers for carnal views, 
 for earthly glory, and for temporal attainments. If 
 his plans are calculated for these, and especially if 
 they succeed, he is admired, applauded, and admitted 
 to be a great, a wise, or an extraordinary person. 
 
 But, alas! how vain and perishing, how delusive 
 and unsatisfactory, is this short-lived wisdom, and all 
 that it can seek after or find ! To what purpose are 
 the eager wearisome toils and cares, the studious 
 anxieties and restless pursuits, of all the millions of 
 mortals in ages past, whose airy glory is forgotten, 
 and whose very names are extinguished and lost ? 
 And, if not lost and extinguished, yet of what value 
 or consequence are they now, beyond the fleeting 
 idea and imagination of mortals like themselves ? 
 And to how few, even in this last poor way, doth the 
 remembrance extend? And how unknown and in- 
 significant is all this paper-glory to the owners, whose 
 very image is departed from the world on which they 
 doted? 
 
 This is the highest prize of all earthly wisdom : 
 and is not this perfectly fanciful, fleeting, trivial, and 
 vain ? In the grave all its thoughts perish, equally 
 
133 
 
 with the low notions and opinions of the ignorant 
 and the foolish, the poor and the despised. 
 
 But there is a wisdom, which, unlike the other, 
 deserves the name, and being no production of this 
 corrupted earth, but coming from above, is pure and 
 spiritual in its nature, and, in all its purposes and 
 effects, true, real, lasting, and happy. 
 
 Its origin is in grace from Him, who is the Foun- 
 tain of wisdom. And its first effect is in the renun- 
 ciation and abasement of self, as that which is false 
 and contrary. Thus the fear of the Lord is the 
 beginning, or first-fruits which the soul can present, 
 of wisdom ; and thus a man must become a fool, that 
 he may be wise. This wisdom sees the ignorance 
 of all other pretended wisdom, detects its base and 
 grovelling pursuits, and lifts up the soul, not to a 
 temporary dying fame, which is often infamy with 
 God, but to a solid and perpetual good. It discovers 
 the deceivableness of unrighteousness in the heart 
 and in the world, the poorness of every thing out of 
 Christ, and the great value of Christ and of the soul 
 above all other things. It doth not lift up a man in 
 himself, as a great and glorious doctor for human 
 admiration ; but it makes him low in his own eyes, 
 through a view of the excellency of the knowledge of 
 Christ Jesus his Lord ; and it keeps him from aiming 
 at vain glory, as being a kind of treason against God, 
 and as an unjust attainment for himself, a poor, de- 
 pendent, ignorant sinner. The Christian, made wise 
 to salvation, dreads to be left to his own wisdom ; 
 because he knows that blindness is its other and its 
 truer name. 
 
134 
 
 Christ is made, of God, wisdom to the believer. 
 He spake as never man spake ; and none teacheth 
 like him. He often gives a poor and ignorant coun- 
 tryman such instructions, as render him abundantly 
 more wise than the mere scholar by all the florid 
 pomp of the schools. So ingrafted too are his in- 
 structions, that the art of man, and the sophistry of 
 Satan, cannot baffle those who possess them. His 
 knowledge is solid, and real, and enjoyable; such as 
 the heart can feel, the soul live by, the spirit exult 
 in, the whole man act upon, amidst a thousand trials 
 in the world, and in the nearest prospect of death 
 and eternity. 
 
 Possessing this wisdom, how serenely can the 
 Christian look down upon the bustling cares and pur- 
 suits of men ; upon their honours, their pleasures, 
 their riches : even as a man of great natural wisdom 
 would look down upon the follies and recreations of 
 boys ! Toys and games employ the attention of 
 children, and engage their passions, though frivolous 
 and fleeting : and are the solicitudes of men, and of 
 old men too, less idle or extravagant, when they lay 
 out all their time, and strength, and souls, for that 
 which profiteth not even here, and which none pre- 
 tend to be profitable in the day of wrath ? "What 
 poor things are these of the world in the hours of 
 sickness and pain ? and how much poorer still in the 
 hour of approaching death? Honours, titles, and 
 estates, cannot remove a pang, nor give one drop of 
 consolation ; but, in many cases, afford a wish of 
 dismal remorse to their owners, that they had never 
 obtained them. There is, I fear, more than one 
 
135 
 
 Dives in eternity, who laments that he had not been 
 a hundred times poorer and sorer than any Lazarus 
 (with grace) was or could be in this world. 
 
 True wisdom proves its own worth by seeking and 
 obtaining a proper and valuable end. On the other 
 hand, that cannot be real, but delusive wisdom, which 
 is always working and promising, and at last con- 
 cludes in nothing, or nothing but ruin. But this is 
 the most which is attained by the wisdom of this 
 world, spiritually viewed: it gains air and dirt, a 
 name and a perishing good (if a good) below ; and 
 then it ceases to act, leaving its poor possessor only 
 misery and disappointment, except a fearful expecta- 
 tion of an unwished and unwelcome hereafter. Can 
 the end of the merest idiot be more stupid and un- 
 wise ? 
 
 Without a doubt, the affairs of this life must be 
 carried on, and the Christian must more or less be 
 engaged in them ; but the wisdom of grace in his 
 soul will teach him, that there are also other affairs to 
 mind ; affairs of infinitely more moment to him than 
 all the world put together. If he should gain the 
 utmost or the whole of this earth, and lose himself 
 and the end of his being, where would be his profit 
 and advantage ? People who can speculate clearly, 
 and calculate nicely for gains in common matters, 
 would do well to carry their thoughts of profit and 
 loss a little farther towards the end of time, when all 
 things are to be balanced and settled for ever. 
 
 Lord, above all wisdom of earth, and earthly gain, 
 may I obtain that wisdom which leadeth to a happy 
 immortality, and which shall abide with me beyond 
 
136 
 
 the bounds of time ! I am a poor dying creature, 
 going fast out of this world, and almost upon the 
 every threshold of another. O help me to see then, 
 jvhat can truly profit, or what can really hinder me, 
 that " the loins of my mind" may be girt up with 
 the girdle of saving wisdom, and that I may always 
 be so running as at length to obtain the crown ! O 
 preserve my heart from that unwise wisdom, which 
 layeth up what must soon be lost, and squanders 
 away what can never be regained ! which thinketh 
 much of airy trifles, and almost not at all, or not at 
 all to purpose, of an unperishing good ! of a good 
 which thy Spirit hath called " an inheritance incor- 
 ruptible and undefiled ; a crown of glory that fadeth 
 not away ; a building of God, eternal in the heavens ; 
 a kingdom which cannot be shaken ; a blessedness, 
 which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor entered 
 into the heart of man ; yea, rivers of joy and pleasure 
 for evermore !" — Lord, if thou give but the wisdom 
 to obtain these, I shall very soon cease to lament the 
 non-attainment of all knowledge beside ! 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 On Independence. 
 
 Men desire what is called independent fortunes, 
 through their natural arrogance, and fond indulgence 
 to their flesh. And because believers are flesh as 
 well as spirit, therefore, in proportion as that flesh 
 
137 
 
 is spiritually uncircumcised and unsubdued, even do 
 these require this meat of the world for their lust. 
 It is very irksome to a believer's carnal nature, that 
 he lives in his spirit the life of faith ; and it will be 
 more and more irksome to nature, as this life grows 
 in him and is proved by trials, which tend to deny 
 or abridge his earthly desires. The flesh cannot 
 delight in any thing that doth not gratify its senses ; 
 but the life of the spirit consists greatly in " crucify- 
 ing the flesh, with its affections and lusts ;" in trust- 
 ing God, through a naked promise, for what is yet 
 unseen ; and in giving up will, hope, desire, and every 
 thing within and without, to his disposal. This is 
 all horrid and dismal, yea, death itself, to the natural 
 man. He hates, and abhors, and scoffs, and sets all 
 his wits and passions at work to cry down a life so 
 strange and peculiar, that he must even die to him- 
 self and all he loves, before he can live it. But who- 
 soever will save this life of the carnal mind, shall los« 
 it ; and whosoever would lose it, shall, by the mercy 
 of God, find a better, even a life of confidence and 
 communion with Christ Jesus. 
 
 This principle of independence, or aversion to live 
 in simple trust upon God, is the secret cause why 
 many professors " hasten to be rich, or will be rich in 
 this world, though by it they fall into a snare, and 
 into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men 
 in ruin and perdition." " If I can get such and 
 such a fortune, I will do so and so," say they, " and 
 then serve God without distraction." But the flesh 
 is not to be laid asleep by indulgence, nor the fire to 
 be put out by heaping up fuel. Experience shows, 
 
138 
 
 that large possessions do much oftener damp any little 
 life or zeal for God, than quicken the Christian's 
 hope and concern for a better world. 
 
 The spirit of faith teaches another lesson. It bids 
 a man " commit all his way to the Lord," and rather 
 to fear than to court great riches, knowing what mis- 
 chiefs and wretchedness they have brought upon 
 many who once seemed to run well; and knowing 
 also the natural desire of the carnal mind to covet 
 these things merely for its own food and feasting. 
 
 The goodness of God, therefore, providentially 
 keeps his children, for the most part, poor in this 
 world, that they might live in the fuller trust and 
 dependence upon himself. He that doth not expect 
 much from this world, cannot be much disappointed 
 by it. When a man hath little or nothing before 
 him, he looks to the best help : so the poor Christian 
 sees that God is his best help, and therefore lives 
 humbly upon his bounty. In this way of continual 
 trust and daily dependence, and not by fulness of 
 bread, or independence, he is made " rich in faith" 
 through additional experiences, and walks with more 
 and more strength and sweetness of spirit as " an heir 
 of the kingdom." 
 
 On the other hand, how many rich professors are 
 there who plead their very situations in life, as so 
 many false reasons why they should be gay and splen- 
 did ; why they should see all sorts of fine company, 
 no matter of whom ; why they should have pompous 
 equipage and luxurious tables; and why, in short, 
 they should have every thing in dress, manner, and 
 custom, which the poor, vain, foolish, unmortified 
 
139 
 
 flesh can desire to have ? They seem not to see, 
 that in all this they are living to themselves or to 
 earth, and not to God or his glory among men. 
 How it is that they support faith at any rate, with 
 every indulgence and ease to the flesh, with full con- 
 formity to the world, and with an entire good opinion 
 of the world, I know not ; but this I know, that, if 
 the true life be supported amidst so much contagion 
 and disease, it is because " all things are possible 
 with God," though with men this, among others, is 
 impossible. I speak not against rank and station, 
 for these are providential appointments and necessary 
 in themselves ; but against the abuse of these to pride, 
 sloth, vanity, and all the common evils and excesses 
 of a polluted world. And I believe also, that I do 
 not speak from envy or chagrin ; for I really know 
 not the man in this world, with whom I should wish 
 or dare to wish an exchange of situation. 
 
 Lord, let me have what is best for my true life 
 and welfare, and that only. Make me contented in 
 thy allotment. I have often been otherwise, and am 
 still prone to desire unnecessary and dangerous things. 
 O forgive me this error and blindness, and correct the 
 madness of my proud and rebellious heart by the fer- 
 vent faithful life of thy Holy Spirit. So shall I de- 
 sire only what will please thee, and be content in my 
 soul with what thou givest, or when thou deniest, 
 however my flesh may strive to murmur and repine. 
 O hear me ; and let my whole trust, my God, be in 
 thee! 
 
140 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 On Worldly Grandeur. 
 
 To a Christian, living and walking as becomes 
 his heavenly calling, how poor and creeping, how idle 
 and vain, how foolish and wretched, is the common 
 eager pursuit after high distinctions in the world ! 
 They not only come up, and are cut down, like the 
 grass withering into dust and oblivion ; but while 
 they appear, they are empty and fleeting shadows, 
 or (if it can be conceived) the very " shadows of a 
 shade." If viewed at a distance, they seem solid as 
 a mountain ; if embraced closely they are found but 
 a cloud. Their possessors are poor, because ever in 
 want. One blast of honour will not serve him that 
 wishes for two; nor a thousand him that can hope 
 for more. The dominion of Europe would make a 
 natural man pant for Asia; and he that cannot be 
 satisfied without an additional province or river, would 
 not be satisfied with this whole world if he had it, 
 but (like Alexander) would grasp after and lament 
 for another. Whatever a natural man hath, it is no 
 matter : he never has enough ; he always wants more. 
 Consequently, he is poor; and he is wretched, be- 
 cause he perpetually feels himself poor. He hath 
 miseries from his poverty, and torments from his 
 pride. 
 
 The real Christian is enabled to pity the anxious 
 absurdity and vexatious vanity of those things which 
 
141 
 
 are the great jet and concern of the worldly great 
 and worldly wise. He looketh indeed for a name, 
 but it is for " an everlasting name, which cannot be 
 cut off." He is not content to be happy only for a 
 few days or years, but desires to be blessed and joy- 
 ful for thousands and millions of ages to come. He 
 longs for a crown, but it is for " a crown of glory 
 that fadeth not away." He pants for a kingdom, 
 but it is for the kingdom of Christ and of God. He 
 is really a person of boundless ambition ; for nothing 
 less will serve him than the infinite realms of ever- 
 lasting glory. Riches are much upon his heart: 
 but they are the durable, the unsearchable riches of 
 Christ. He cannot be put off with the paltry cares 
 and thorny honours of worldly greatness ; but nobly 
 pursues, and with certainty too, the very happiness 
 and grandeur of God himself, even that very glory 
 which Christ received from the Father, and which, 
 as their head, he will share with his members. 
 
 Compared with this, all the pride and glory of man 
 appear but as stubble or falsehood, the mere dream of 
 a shadow, a nothing. And if human greatness can 
 appear thus in the believer's ideas now, what will it 
 seem when the earth itself shall be dissolved, and the 
 Babylon of sin upon it shall be thrown down into 
 perpetual ruins ? 
 
 what is Earth, if Heaven be mine? 
 Or what its dying toys? 
 
 1 seek, I burn for wealth divine, 
 For God's immortal joys ! 
 
142 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 On Worldly Company. 
 
 All things may be lawful, but all are not expe- 
 dient. It may be lawful for a Christian to be much 
 among the men of this world, and, in some cases, it 
 may be necessary, for the discharge of lawful call- 
 ings ; but it is not expedient, certainly, to be more 
 among them than is thus strictly proper and neces- 
 sary. Either the Christian must enter into their 
 spirit, or they into his, before they can be agreeable 
 companions. If he take up their spirit, surely it 
 will soon be to his grief and his burden. And it is 
 very unlikely that they should come into his ; unless 
 God might bless his faithful conversation to the good 
 of their souls. But this is seldom the case in worldly 
 company, and especially in the company of many 
 worldly men together. The corruptions of one will 
 bear up and harden the corruptions of another; and 
 he that perhaps would not have jeered alone, will 
 scoff by sympathy with a mocking crowd. It is best 
 to speak of spiritual things with carnal men by them- 
 selves ; when common decency may force them to give 
 a patient hearing, even though grace may not crown 
 the discourse with a blessing. A whole herd may 
 only trample upon your jewels, and then turn again 
 to rend you. 
 
 That man's religion is much to be doubted of, 
 who frequents the society of the men of this world 
 
143 
 
 for satisfaction and pleasure. " How can two," even 
 two only, " walk together, unless they be agreed ?" 
 " If ye were of the world, the world would love its 
 own ; but because ye are not of the world, but I have 
 chosen you," saith Christ, " out of the world; there- 
 fore the world hateth you." 
 
 Can a man touch filth and not be defiled ; or fire 
 and not be hurt? How much less then can a man 
 conform to the spirit of this world, without pollution 
 to his soul, or without feeling the loss of that peace, 
 if he ever had it, which the world can neither give, 
 nor, if lost, repay ? It is no wonder that men complain 
 of spiritual falls and desertions, when they stand upon 
 " slippery places," and leave the presence of God for 
 the friendship of mammon. How can a heart, reek- 
 ing from the hot dunghill of this filthy world, be 
 offered as a sweet-smelling savour to God, or hope 
 to be accepted with returns of his heavenly fire ? 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 TJie manners of the World are hurtful and hindering 
 to Believers. 
 
 The apostle declared it to be his privilege, that 
 " the world was crucified to him, and he to the world." 
 Another apostle says, that " whosoever will be a 
 friend of the world, is the enemy of God." And 
 Christ assures us, that " we cannot serve God and 
 mammon ;" insomuch, that if we would approve our- 
 
selves to be his disciples, " we must take up our crosa 
 daily, and follow him." 
 
 This is very evident ; they who are the most given 
 to the modes of this world, and mix most with its 
 customs and pursuits, are the least alive to God, and 
 the least lively in the things of God. Gaiety and 
 foppery of dress, mimicry of worldly pride and parade, 
 the hollow language of fashionable companies and 
 friendships, do ill become a Christian, and never 
 promote his true welfare. — It is not indeed the cus- 
 tom at this day to say such things to professors ; but 
 they are not, however, the less true, or the less 
 needful. 
 
 Poor and wretched are all these fooleries, when 
 weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, and especially 
 when they thrust out the enjoyment of things divine. 
 To have gay bodily apparel with cold and naked souls; 
 to possess fulness of bread with emptiness of grace ; 
 to enjoy much worldly company, and lose the society 
 of God and his saints ; to be esteemed polite and 
 genteel in manners with men, and to be awkward and 
 dumb in addresses to God, is all such a complication 
 of folly, meanness, misery, and sin, as a Christian, in 
 his right mind, should be amazed at and abhor. 
 
 Are we loved by the world ? It is for this reason, 
 the world will love its own. But how then are we 
 " chosen out of the world?" How then can we 
 belong to Christ, whom the world hateth? — This 
 trimming between God and the world is neither for 
 the comfort of our souls, nor for the credit of our 
 profession. 
 
 Do we fear to be censured for singularity and 
 
145 
 
 precision ? A Christian must be singular ; for he is 
 one of those who are " not to be numbered with the 
 nations," a stranger, and a pilgrim, or passenger here ; 
 and he must be precise, neither loving the world, nor 
 living for the world, for otherwise " the love of the 
 Father is not in him." 
 
 On the other hand, an open and generous civility, 
 a gentle and benevolent deportment, bespeaking sin- 
 cerity of heart and holiness of life, are truly orna- 
 mental to the Christian. In avoiding the ape, a 
 believer need not stumble upon the bear; nor, in 
 shunning grimace and affectation, to plunge into sour- 
 ness and brutality. If meekness, patience, gentle- 
 ness, good-will, good manners, and good works, will 
 please all men, it is his duty, by these means, to 
 study to please them. But if they expect his confor- 
 mity to the world for their pleasure, and are dis- 
 gusted at the transformation and renewal of his mind, 
 as it is more than probable they will be, it is then his 
 honour and his privilege not in this way to please 
 them, if he would approve himself to be the servant 
 of Christ. 
 
 Though the Christian, in one sense, must be in 
 the world, and put his best hand to its business and 
 affairs, according to his lot from God's providence, 
 yet, in another sense, he must come out from the 
 world and be separate, lest his soul be hindered and 
 defiled. He cannot enter into the spirit of the world 
 without injury and loss ; and it is the spirit, not the 
 lawful business of the world, which contains all the 
 evil. In his calling and concerns, a believer is to 
 glorify God: and he is enabled to do this, first, by 
 G 3 
 
146 
 
 the prayer of faith over them, and then by the life of 
 faith in them. That business, and those intentions, 
 which will not admit of these, are to be avoided as 
 the very plague. 
 
 Lord, how poor and vile are all the gay modes of 
 this world, compared with the simplicity and enjoy- 
 ment of thy truth ! How beggarly and unsatisfying 
 are its vanities, how low and crawling its ambition, 
 how foolish and cheating its hopes, how vain and un- 
 profitable its cares, how various and continual its 
 troubles, how wretched and horrible its end ! O 
 give me thy wisdom and love, thy grace and thy 
 truth ; for this is that better part which shall never 
 be taken from me ! 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 On Conversation among Professors. 
 
 There are many professors of religion, who are 
 always craving for company. They think, that to 
 be alone is to be dull, and that, without conversing 
 with creatures, they must be silent and stupid, whim- 
 sical or melancholy. Such persons are to be pitied, 
 who have not learned the divine secret of talking 
 with God in private by fervent faith and prayer, who 
 know not how to listen to the still small voice of the 
 Spirit in his holy Word, who cannot find an endless 
 delight in discovering and tasting the sweets of re- 
 demption, and who loathe to commune with their own 
 hearts, in their closet or their chamber, and be still. 
 
147 
 
 When such persons get into company, and espe- 
 cially into a great company, they soon discover how 
 unfit, as Christian professors, they are to be in it. 
 The discourse, if of God and his truths, will be light 
 and unsavoury, without unction or solid experience ; 
 or if their conversation turn, as it generally will, upon 
 men and earthly things, it will only differ from the 
 language and spirit of this world, by being spoken 
 by persons who wish to be thought of as living for 
 another. 
 
 It is a melancholy truth, that the levity, dissipa- 
 tion, envy, culumny, and detraction, too often found 
 among companies and parties professedly religious, 
 as well as among the people of the world, make re- 
 tirement very necessary to the Christian, who would 
 walk much with God, and far more cheerful than the 
 generality of talkative professors can conceive it to 
 be. But the soul which is led to the true enjoyment 
 of divine communion, finds it a relief, rather than a 
 burden, to " cease from man." 
 
 The Christian should not, if possible, get into 
 company, but either to impart some spiritual good, 
 or to receive it. If he hath grace and talents for 
 the former, he will, before discourse, secretly look up 
 to God for his aid and blessing, and afterwards will 
 desire rather to be humbled for what he could not say, 
 or for the manner of saying it, than to be pleased on 
 his own account, for any thing he did say, or for the 
 satisfaction afforded to others. If, on the other hand, 
 he hath received edification from godly conversation, 
 he will then pray that it may abide with him, that the 
 sweet savour may not be lost, that it may be carried 
 g2 
 
148 
 
 into lively act and experience, and that, like good 
 seed upon good ground, it may increase with the in- 
 crease of God, and bring forth fruit abundantly to 
 perfection. 
 
 All this implies, that large and mingled assem- 
 blies must be more noisy than profitable. There 
 hath been of this at all times very sufficient evidence. 
 Great entertainments, and many persons called to- 
 gether to enjoy them, may serve to keep out the 
 calm serenity and sweet possession of divine reflec- 
 tion, but, perhaps, too rarely promote it. In many 
 words there will probably be errors and folly : nor do 
 numbers in a company always multiply wisdom. The 
 flesh may be gratified and feasted, while the spirit 
 may be starved, and wearied, and dry, and at last be 
 sent empty away. It must be grievous to a real 
 Christian, thus to come out of company a worse or 
 less happy man for entering into it. 
 
 It is the way of God to " feed his people with 
 the rod" [of his gracious and selecting power,] even 
 " his flock, his heritage, which dwell solitarily in the 
 wood, in the midst of Carmel," [the field of the world.] 
 And they do feed [like Abraham and the patriarchs, 
 who were strangers and pilgrims upon earth] " in 
 Bashan and Gilead," [the lands appointed for them,] 
 " as in the days of old:" Micah vii. 14. They 
 were ever " a people dwelling alone," [in abstrac- 
 tion from the spirit of this world,] ". and not reckoned 
 among the nations :" Numb, xxiii. 9. 
 
 If I have thee, O my God, I have plenitude of 
 society, though (like the blessed John at Patmos) no 
 creature should be nigh, or though I should be an 
 
149 
 
 outcast from all the world. Thou canst talk with 
 me by thy works, by thy providences, and chiefly by 
 thy Spirit and word. O what delight have I felt in 
 the testimonies of thy faithfulness and truth, of thy 
 mercy and grace, of thy presence and love, of thy 
 glory and power ! Surely, surely, when I have en- 
 joyed these in their genuine sweetness, retired from 
 every eye but thine, it hath seemed hard to go forth 
 again into the world, or even into the converse of 
 those whom thy own providence and grace have en- 
 deared to me. And if this be so divinely delightful, 
 in a mortal body and a miserable world, O what shall 
 my felicity be, when I become a pure exalted spirit, 
 with vivid ecstatic life, in the calm and unspotted 
 regions of glory ! — When I think of these unutter- 
 able mercies, how can I but long and pant, how can 
 I but hunger and thirst for God, the living God, my 
 God, my own God, and my own for ever ! 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 On the changes of Time. 
 
 How do the things of this world pass away ! 
 One generation follow eth another, and another that, 
 and so on from age to age, filling up the long rolls 
 of time in melancholy array. They appear long to 
 me, because my rule of comparison is taken from the 
 shortness of human life : but to eternity, to the ever- 
 lasting existence and infinitude of my God, these 
 
150 
 
 ages are almost a nothing. Into this eternity all 
 that can be called time is continually passing, as into 
 a gulph which hath neither bottom nor bound. Thus 
 time is full of changes and vicissitudes, while eternity 
 is not only a perpetual now, but also a perpetual same. 
 
 When I look into the histories of ancient days, 
 and review the confusions and violences that have 
 passed, (for the history of the world is little more 
 than a record of its sins,) I ask my heart, to what 
 purpose have all these things been, and where is now 
 the profit to those evil men who promoted them ? 
 Their works are in the dust, or, at best, upon paper ; 
 so that, excepting perhaps for punishment, they have 
 neither remained here, nor followed their authors. 
 All their hopes, and cares, and commotions, their 
 own restlessness, and their inquietudes to others, are 
 buried all in everlasting gloom. The pleasant remem- 
 brance of their gayest hours is either extinguished, 
 or swallowed up in bitter sorrow for their sin : and the 
 prospect for ever before them, — O what can this be, 
 but a complication of all that is dreadful, unavoidable, 
 and eternal ! 
 
 This cool and serious review of worldly things and 
 affairs passes so often upon my heart, and seems so 
 necessary in reminding me how much I am but a 
 stranger and sojourner here, that, if I have dwelt a 
 little the more upon the vain wickedness of earth 
 and of time, the reader will know the reason in me, if 
 he feel no occasion to apply it to himself. 
 
 One cannot take up an annual calendar of names, 
 published only twenty or thirty years ago, without 
 almost considering one's-self among the tombs. The 
 
151 
 
 gay courtier and the plotting statesman, who once 
 figured away within the senate or about the throne, 
 now lie in undistinguishable ruin with the beggar and 
 the clown ; not less vile than these, and perhaps not 
 less regarded or forgotten than the lowest of the low. 
 
 And what shall preserve, from the like disaster, 
 all the present system of cares and pleasures ? If, 
 indeed, that can be called a system, which begins in 
 evil, is carried on with disorder, and ends in folly or 
 nothing. 
 
 " O ! but," says one, " I have much goods laid up 
 for many years; and I will say to my soul, Soul, 
 take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." One 
 of this sort, not worthy to be named, is put down in 
 God's record for an everlasting fool. In the same 
 night his soul was required of him, and had something 
 else to think of than to attend the absurd business 
 which only the body could do, of eating, drinking, 
 and being merry in the abuse of temporal good. 
 
 In the midst of all this perishing and disordered 
 state, there is one rich blessing which never can fail. 
 The mercy of Jehovah in Christ Jesus endureth, yea, 
 endureth for ever. This is often repeated by the 
 Lord himself, that it might be constantly and cheer- 
 fully believed and kept in mind. 
 
 O my soul ! thy time faileth, thy body is decaying, 
 the world is daily changing, and nothing about thee 
 continueth in one stay. Blessed be God, to thee 
 likewise a change shall soon come, and come for the 
 better in the midst of it all ! Whatever alterations 
 appear, thou hast an unalterable God, and an unper- 
 ishable home before thee. If the earth fall into 
 
152 
 
 destruction, as soon it will, thy estate cannot be lost ; 
 for thou art only a pilgrim and traveller here, and 
 thy inheritance is above, far out of the reach of ruin. 
 Thy interest being safe in Christ, all is safe that is 
 worth saving, with respect to thee. Thou canst only 
 pass from death into life, from sin to holiness, from 
 pain to peace, from earth to heaven, from mortals to 
 God. 
 
 O how then should I rejoice in thee, my Saviour, 
 and my Lord ! In thee, who makest all things 
 mine ; all, either as good, or to lead me to good. 
 I adore thee, that thou thus disposest the world, life, 
 death, things present, or things to come, in my be- 
 half, calling them mine, making them really mine, 
 because they contribute to my welfare. Above all, 
 I bless thee for the end. I am lost in love and ad- 
 miration, when thou tellest me that I am thine, O 
 my Redeemer, even as thou art God's ! 
 
 What manner of love is this, that I, a mutable' 
 worm, should become an immutable spirit; that I, 
 who live in a tottering house of clay, amidst a people 
 of unclean lips, should be raised to a mansion of glory 
 among the innumerable company of saints and an- 
 gels, - that I, a dull inhabitant of a miserable world, 
 ruined and ravaged by sin and time, should be trans- 
 lated to a joyful rest, unchanging as eternity; that 
 I, who was once a slave to Satan, and deserve only 
 to live with him, should be made and kept a child 
 of God, yea, an heir of God, and a joint-heir with 
 Christ Jesus, of a kingdom which cannot be shaken !> 
 O what manner of love is this indeed ! 
 
153 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 On the patient enduring of Wrongs. 
 
 Like the blessed Psalmist, I have sometimes been 
 rewarded evil for good, to the great discomfort of my 
 soul. It seems trying to flesh and blood, that is, to 
 my animal and corrupt passions, to bear all, and to 
 say nothing. But yet this is generally my wisdom 
 and my duty. 
 
 It is my wisdom, because then I do not stir up 
 further evil or strife in my own bosom, or in that of 
 others; and I moreover engage my gracious Master to 
 undertake for me, by committing all in silent patience 
 to him, who hath enframed to make everv thine?, anil 
 
 fc> & 
 
 every tiling, 
 
 such things as these most certainly among the rest, 
 work together for my good. Thus that, which ap- 
 pears to be only a natural evil, will, by his superior 
 management and control, be turned into a spiritual 
 blessing. 
 
 It is also my duty to suffer patiently, considering 
 him who endured the most severe contradiction of 
 sinners against himself; because thereby I prove that 
 I belong to him ; for which purpose, perhaps, trials 
 of this kind may have been permitted to fall upon me. 
 If I have right and truth on my side, it is not only 
 faithless, but also unreasonable, to be impatient. I 
 ought rather to be thankful in that behalf, and to ask 
 mercy and grace for those who slander me against 
 all equity, and without a cause. It is indeed unplea- 
 g3 
 
154 
 
 sant to have the treatment which he experienced, who 
 said, " I became a reproach among all my neighbours ; 
 and they of mine acquaintance were afraid of me ; 
 and they that did see me without, conveyed them- 
 selves from me." But this may be God's physic to 
 my soul, which is not given me for my pleasure, but 
 as the means, though painful means, of future good. 
 My worldly attachments, or my Christian attachments 
 in a worldly way, may be growing stronger than are 
 for the true health of my soul : and, therefore, this 
 is a call to live more inwardly upon grace, and to wait 
 in faith and prayer for more communion with God. 
 When I gain his company, by losing the company 
 or the friendship of men, and even of good men with 
 great corruptions like my own, I have no reason to 
 lament any loss, but to be thankful, with all humility, 
 for the kindness of every providence which leads me 
 nearer, and keeps me closer, to my blessed Lord. He 
 is a tried and sure friend indeed, who can help in 
 every exigency, and will be a friend for eternity. 
 
 If I took another sort of conduct, and exposed 
 those as I might, and, perhaps, as they justly may 
 deserve, who have done me evil for good, I should 
 indulge only that base revenge of my fallen nature, 
 which would plunge me as deep another way in the 
 corruption of which I might have right to complain. 
 I may and ought to use the caution of keeping out of 
 the way of injury; but I must not revenge it either 
 by word or deed. While I am only wronged, I am 
 safe; but I am open to all manner of evil, when 
 guilty of wrong. 
 
 Above all the harm that can be done to me by crea- 
 
155 
 
 tures, let me tremble at my own passions, which, like 
 tinder, are ready to kindle by the smallest spark of 
 mental fire. May I tremble too at the officious 
 readiness of others to increase my inflammation by 
 their own. And alas ! how much more ready is cor- 
 rupt nature to feel and to foment discord, than to sub- 
 due and abhor it ! Let me pray then to be delivered 
 from the strife of other men's tongues ; and to have 
 a strong restraint, for such I greatly need, upon mine. 
 Sin "is the great kill-friend," as one calls it; may I 
 therefore beg to be guarded against sin, both in my- 
 self and in them ! 
 
 O Lord, what a nature, and what a world, do I 
 live in ! I groan under a nature which is ready to 
 meet all the evils and confusions that are in the 
 world, and to make every one of them my own. 
 How doth the unquiet spirit of man plunge himself, 
 and all about him, into confusion, miseries, and dis- 
 tresses; engendering unhappy discords among indi- 
 viduals, and bloody cruel wars among the nations ! 
 And how often, my blessed Master, instead of retir- 
 ing to thy bosom, have I myself allowed this spirit 
 of violence within me, and met it in other men ! 
 How much have I wronged my enemies by not pray- 
 ing for them, as I ought, when they have vented 
 their wrongs against me ! With how little patience 
 and submission to thy will have I endured these 
 wrongs; not considering, that they could not have 
 come, unless they had been permitted by thee, and 
 were allowed to come altogether for my good ! O 
 Lord, wipe off my guilt by thy most precious blood, 
 and enable me in future, as well not to take offence, 
 
156 
 
 as to be earnest to give none. So shall I appear 
 indeed to be the disciple of thee, my Saviour, who, 
 like a patient silent lamb, didst endure all manner of 
 insults and injuries ; and so, in following thee, I shall 
 find peace at least, by thy grace, both in thy bosom 
 and in my own, though I find none beside through- 
 out th,is distracted world ! 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 On Prayer. 
 
 Prayer is the very breath of faith, and the first 
 evidence of new and spiritual life in the soul. The 
 Lord said of Paul, " Behold he prayeth ;" because 
 the Lord had then given him a heart to pray. Doubt- 
 less, he had often fasted and prayed before, as far as 
 the lips were concerned: but the spirit, not words, 
 life, not expression only, constitute prayer with God. 
 Language may give it a form ; but language alone is 
 like mere body without a soul ; and he that so offers 
 it, renders to God a dead unclean carcass for a living 
 sacrifice, which is an abomination in his sight. 
 
 Whatever hath life, must breathe; and if the life 
 be sound and strong, it will breathe freely. Short, 
 irregular, disordered breath, discovers either great 
 exercise, or ill health. It is the same in the life of 
 faith. If the soul be quickened by Christ, it will 
 breathe out its desires after him ; perhaps, like a child 
 at first, mingled with strong crying, bitter sobs, and 
 
157 
 
 many tears ; but still it breathes on and prays on ; 
 its breath of prayer is not stopped, but struggles for 
 life and increase. If the prayer be faint and weak, 
 disordered and low, the person is not in full life and 
 health, or else some great temptation oppresses him 
 heavily. The Physician of souls must be looked 
 to for medicine, and for deliverance. Certainly all 
 is not right ; and a speedy help should be sought for 
 and applied. 
 
 When the mind is truly touched by grace, it will 
 and must pray. If the heart cannot find words to 
 carry up its request, it will send them forth in ear- 
 nest groans. Prayer can no more be kept from 
 ascending, than flame from the fire. " The Spirit," 
 said one, who understood this matter well, " helpeth 
 our infirmities : for we know not what we should pray 
 for as we ought ; but the Spirit itself maketh inter- 
 cession for us with groanings which cannot be ut- 
 tered." The cries of a drowning man are above the 
 formality of words, and forcibly pierce the ear for 
 help : so the deep-felt anguish of a convinced heart 
 is inexpressibly eager for mercy, and with moans and 
 groans sues it out from God in right earnest. It 
 doth not seek a florid oration, pompous phrase, or 
 theatrical starts, but pours forth aspirations, at times, 
 too ardent and mighty for words. O how God loveth 
 such addresses as these ! One " Abba, Father," 
 one tearful sigh, one inward groan, are beyond, and 
 far better, than all the fine speeches in the world. 
 
 Let not the broken-hearted sinner grieve then too 
 much, that he cannot find language to express the 
 fulness of his desires. His desires are the better 
 
158 
 
 for being found in his bosom too large and too strong 
 for utterance : there is more of heaven in them, and 
 they will break out at last the swifter towards heaven. 
 If he can find fit words, let him use them; if he cannot, 
 let not their absence increase his concern. God knows 
 and loves the language of the heart, and in due time 
 will answer the prayer. See 1 Sam. i. 13 — 15. 
 
 As to the gift of wordy prayer, it is generally be- 
 stowed for the sake of others. If accompanied with 
 faith, it is highly valuable for godly edifying ; if not, 
 it will rather weary than improve. This gift is stirred 
 up to more usefulness by exercise; and, when ex- 
 pressions flow easily, the heart can freely open itself 
 without over-much labour or fear. 
 
 As to public ministrations of prayer, the unhappy 
 zeal of party renders it difficult to speak of them 
 without danger of offence. However, this every 
 candid Christian may venture to allow, that a form 
 of sound words may more decently be used for con- 
 gregations, than the loose, crude, and incoherent ex- 
 pressions of raw and unexperienced men. On the 
 other hand, could the church be always sure of sound 
 and able ministers, who might rightly pray over the 
 word of truth, as well as divide it, there certainly 
 would be less occasion for forms, which seem to have 
 been composed to prevent disorders, or keep out 
 heresies, or to show to the church at large, what 
 should be the objects of prayer at all times. No one 
 surely can deny, that, in both the Jewish and Chris- 
 tian church, where public forms have been used, men 
 have prayed together with the Spirit, and perhaps 
 with the more understanding and communion be- 
 
159 
 
 cause they knew the words, and that it is possible to 
 do so now with any sound and gracious form. So, 
 on the other hand, it would be bigoted and unchris- 
 tian-like to affirm, that the Spirit of grace hath not 
 blessed what is called free prayer to the edification 
 of souls ; when, doubtless, there are now living num- 
 berless witnesses, of great truth and piety, to the 
 contrary. It never was indeed the form, or the want 
 of it, that made true prayer ; but the grace of God 
 in Christ Jesus, flowing through the words that were 
 used, from or to the heart. And if all these gra- 
 cious persons, divesting themselves of narrow preju- 
 dices, were asked, How, and by what means, they 
 prayed ? they would probably answer to a man, that 
 it was by faith in Christ Jesus, and by the good 
 Spirit of their God. If both sides, then, are thus 
 in debt to grace for the very life and being of all their 
 prayers, and are thus alike free to confess it, how 
 should the kind meekness and forbearance of their 
 dear Lord glow in all their hearts towards each other, 
 and cause them to love one another gladly, because he 
 hath made no difference in his love to them ? Surely, 
 this would be much better than to wrangle about a 
 mode or no mode of prayer, in either of which, just 
 as God blesses, there may be much true prayer or 
 no prayer at all. It is the spirit of faith which car- 
 ries on the real business ; not the form or the ges- 
 ture, the lip or the tongue. 
 
 Having ventured thus far to walk upon ground, 
 which party and prejudice have made very tender, it 
 may be expedient for my soul to consider the subject 
 of prayer in a view more appropriately interesting and 
 necessary to its welfare. 
 
160 
 
 My Saviour commands me to watch, as well as to 
 pray ; and his apostle exhorts me to " be sober and 
 watch unto prayer." My flesh is prone to be in- 
 toxicated with the mystic cup of Babylon, with the 
 love of this present evil world, and therefore is un- 
 ruly, and unsteady. From hence arise all my dul- 
 ness and distractions of mind in the things of God ; 
 my coldness and weariness in prayer, my feebleness 
 in duties, and my fVantness in praise. I had need 
 to be sober, for I have a great concern before me ; 
 I ought to watch, for my enemies are subtle and 
 mighty. They watch, if I do not, and are always 
 ready to take advantages to hinder, whenever I am 
 careless to get forward. I have an open door, and 
 many adversaries. If I do not watch unto prayer, 
 the world will get between me and my duty : if I do 
 not watch in prayer, Satan will do his utmost to pre- 
 vent my sweet or continued approach unto God : if 
 I do not watch after prayer, pride, presumption, se- 
 curity, or negligence, will find a way into my heart. 
 
 Lord, if I were fully and constantly aware of my 
 true situation, how could I think to do less than al- 
 ways to pray and not to faint ! 
 
 My fallen heart is ever ready to take up with the 
 mere performance of duty. How often have I prayed 
 for spiritual mercies ; and not considered afterwards 
 whether God hath granted them or not ? For in- 
 crease of faith, wisdom, holiness, and other graces, 
 
 1 have asked with earnestness at the time, and then 
 soon have forgotten what I asked for, or neglected 
 to mark the event. Hence all the lowness of my 
 attainments in divine things, and my overborne sub- 
 
161 
 
 jection to things earthly. And when I have re- 
 quested temporal blessings, how little have I consi- 
 dered the hand of God in granting, or the wisdom 
 of God in refusing them ! How often have I sought 
 the good for its own sake, instead of seeking it for 
 God's glory and my spiritual welfare, and thereby 
 was ready to turn it, if granted, into an evil ! How 
 little use have I made of temporal benefits, when 
 they have been given me, and sometimes given un- 
 expectedly too, that I might notice God's providence; 
 and how ready hath my corrupt nature been to take 
 and apply them all to itself! Surely I am as much 
 the monument of God's patience as of his love. 
 
 It is a matter always to be had in remembrance, 
 that prayer should be followed up with thanksgiving. 
 I ought to be thankful, if what 1 have prayed for is 
 received ; and I should be thankful also, if what I 
 have prayed for is restrained. God is better to me 
 than I am to myself; and he only keeps back any 
 thing from his children, either because it is not good 
 for them at all, or not good in the time and for the 
 purpose for which they desired it. The words of a 
 very ancient poet, rightly turned, may express, in this 
 case, the sentiment of every Christian : — 
 
 The good we need, great King, bestow, 
 Whether we ask for it or no ; 
 But, if for ill we blindly cry, 
 In mercy, Lord, that suit deny. 
 
 The practice of many saints under the Old Tes- 
 tament was to pray thrice in a day. According to 
 opportunity, I cannot pray too often, either in the 
 closet, the family, or the church. There are indeed 
 
162 
 
 stated times for these; but one kind of prayers may 
 be used at all times, and in every circumstance of 
 life. The prayers of ejaculation, or of darting up 
 the heart towards God (like that in Nehem. ii. 4.) 
 in short and pathetic sentences, have a wonderful 
 effect in them, and tend very much to keep up the 
 soul's communion with God, and the life of holiness 
 in common things. Many such may be taken from 
 the Psalms in particular. They show a sweet and 
 healthful inclination of the soul, more perhaps than 
 laboured expressions, or long continuance of address, 
 which may sometimes fall into idle repetitions, or be 
 unattended with suitable affections and fervency. O 
 how delightfully will these aspirations often pass to- 
 wards heaven from the soul ! How warmly stir up 
 the affections, and raise the mind ! How strongly 
 check the inordinate care of earthly things ! 
 
 " Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation 
 of my heart, be always acceptable in thy sight, O 
 Lord, my Strength, and my Redeemer !" 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 On singing Praises to God. 
 
 The first of all earthly singers gave this as an 
 inspired rule, " Sing ye praises with understanding." 
 Without spiritual understanding we can only make 
 a noise. Unless we know how deeply we are in- 
 debted to God, and have the sweet sense of his good- 
 
163 
 
 ness in our souls, we may please ourselves with a 
 tune, but we yield no music to him. Some of old 
 " chanted to the sound of the viol," and " invented 
 to themselves instruments of music;" but, at the same 
 time, they were among those who were at ease in 
 Zion, and who put far away the evil day, and to whom 
 woe is denounced. God never instituted varieties of 
 music in his service, however, like other carnal circum- 
 stances, he might bear with it under the Jewish eco- 
 nomy ; but only trumpets and rams' horns, to usher 
 in the seasons and solemnities. It is spiritual har- 
 mony which is the delight of heaven, and not out- 
 ward jingle and sound ; and therefore, if we are not 
 spiritual, we can have no true notion of this delight, 
 nor " make melody in our hearts to the Lord." 
 The thrills of music, and the divine joys of the soul, 
 are very different things. Worldly men have had 
 the first, and thought them from heaven ; but they 
 continued no longer than the sound ; while the peace 
 of gracious praise is full, sublime, and abiding. We 
 must indeed be real Christians before any of us can 
 say with the apostle, " I will pray with the Spirit, 
 and I will pray with the understanding also ; I will 
 sing with the Spirit, and I will sing with the un- 
 derstanding also." 
 
 I cannot but shake my head, when I hear an 
 officer of the church calling upon the people, " to 
 sing to the praise and glory of God ;" and imme- 
 diately half a dozen merry men, in a high place, shall 
 take up the matter, and most loudly chant it away to 
 the praise and glory of themselves. The tune, per- 
 haps, shall be too difficult for the greater part of the 
 
164 
 
 congregation, who have no leisure to study crotchets 
 and quavers; and so the most delightful of all public 
 worship shall be wrested from them, and the praises 
 of God taken out of their mouths. It is no matter 
 whence this custom arose ; in itself it is neither holy, 
 decent, nor useful ; and therefore ought to be ban- 
 ished entirely from the churches of God. 
 
 When Christians sing all together in some easy 
 tune, accommodated to the words of their praise, and 
 not likely to take off their attention from sense to 
 sound ; then, experience shows, they sing most 
 lustily, (as the Psalmist expresses it,) and with the 
 best good courage. The symphony of voice and the 
 sympathy of heart may flow through the whole con- 
 gregation, which is the finest music to truly serious 
 persons, and the most acceptable to God, of any in 
 the world. To " sing" with srace in their hearts to 
 the Lord," is the melody of heaven itself; and often 
 brings a foretaste of heaven to the redeemed even 
 here. But jingle, piping, sound, and singing, with- 
 out this divine accompaniment, are grating, discor- 
 dant, jarring harshness with God, and vapid lifeless 
 insipidity to the souls of his people. 
 
 I am not an enemy to music as a human art; but 
 let all things be in their place. The pleasures of the 
 ear are not the gracious acts of God's Spirit in the 
 soul; but the effect of vibrated matter upon an out- 
 ward sense. This may be indulged as perhaps an 
 innocent and ingenious amusement ; but what have 
 our amusements to do with solemn and sacred adora- 
 tions of God ? Would not this be carnal, and after 
 the modes of the world, and not after Christ? Surely 
 
165 
 
 no believer will venture to call any thing spiritual, 
 which doth not proceed from, or accord with, the 
 Spirit of life, or tend to " mortify the old man with 
 his affections and lusts." 
 
 Neither sounds of air, nor words of sense alone, 
 however excellent, can please God. " He is a Spi- 
 rit, and they who worship him, must worship him in 
 spirit and in truth ;" for such he seeketh. It is easy 
 to do many, if not all, religious acts with a very car- 
 nal heart ; but to be truly religious, or to walk and 
 act in our spirits with God, this hath always been 
 too hard " for flesh and blood," and can only be per- 
 formed by that grace which giveth life and power to 
 every renewed mind. 
 
 Lord, help me, I beseech thee, thus to laud and 
 adore thee ! Give me a lively sense of thy mercy 
 to my soul: and then my soul shall offer up her gra- 
 cious returns of lively praise. Sacrifice and burnt- 
 offering thou requirest not, for no outward thing, 
 even of thine own appointment, when not inwardly 
 understood, can please thee ; the music of my voice, 
 without the incense or breathings of my soul, thou 
 wilt not accept. O assist me, then, to praise thee 
 aright; for without thee I can do nothing. Thou 
 alone givest occasion to praise ; and thou also givest 
 the Spirit of praise to use the occasion. Vouchsafe 
 both unto me. Then shall I one day join the great 
 " assembly of the first-born, whose names are written 
 in heaven," and sing, with joy unspeakable and full 
 of glory, that ever-new song, " Salvation to our God 
 who sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb! Amen. 
 Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, 
 
166 
 
 and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God, 
 for ever and ever. Amen." 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 A Christian in losing his Life saves it. 
 
 Christ hath said, " Whosoever will come after 
 me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, 
 and follow me. For whosoever will save his life, 
 shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my 
 sake, the same shall save it." 
 
 In doing this, the Christian must die daily. He- 
 is crucified with Christ in the flesh, that he may live 
 with Christ in the Spirit. His mortal body is brought 
 into subjection to the rule of grace; and grace mor- 
 tifies that body, by crucifying its affections and lusts. 
 
 These words are easy and plain ; but, alas ! how 
 few do know them ! To die to SELF is the most 
 painful thing to flesh and blood that can be. To be 
 stripped of all conceited worth, to renounce a man's 
 own righteousness as well as his sins, to give up in 
 earnest his own will and way, to live in an emptied 
 frame of mind simply upon Christ for strength, wis- 
 dom, grace, and salvation, to, desire nothing but what 
 may please him, to be contented with the trials he 
 sends because they are his, to have a heart carried 
 above the world, not to fear man against God; to 
 bear, to believe, to hope, to endure all things as the 
 best, and to maintain a firm view of eternal glory ; 
 
167 
 
 all this is losing a man's own carnal life, and saving 
 the life of his soul in Christ Jesus. The Christian 
 who hath this in him may say with the apostle, " I 
 am crucified with Christ : nevertheless I live ; yet 
 not I, but Christ liveth in me ; and the life which I 
 now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son 
 of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." 
 
 At first sight, this kind of life appears gloomy and 
 dreadful ; but when once truly tasted, it is sweet and 
 pleasant to the soul. It grows less difficult and pain- 
 ful, as the carnal life is more and more subdued. 
 The life of the flesh can only indulge some poor, base, 
 and vexatious gratifications in earthly and perishing 
 things ; but the renewed life of the Spirit consists 
 in righteousness, joy, and peace in the Holy Ghost, 
 which cannot be lost, and which never can cloy. The 
 enjoyment of this renders the Christian, in propor- 
 tion to his enjoyment, a steady man, unshaken or un- 
 subdued by the disorders and distresses of the world, 
 and cleaving the faster to God when they come. A 
 worldly man is often terrified to his wit's end, or to 
 death, where a real Christian can be calm and re- 
 signed. He hath learned the value of all life in 
 Christ; and he knows that what is really worth his 
 anxiety can never be lost. In throwing all upon 
 God, he finds the fears and terrors of his weak and 
 corrupt flesh abated, and he gains strength and live- 
 liness in his soul. The Captain of his salvation 
 gives him a tranquillity of courage, which the bravest 
 human heart cannot put on. Women of delicate 
 tenderness, by this gracious gift, have frequently met 
 the king of terrors himself, with a sedateness of spirit, 
 and a soberness of triumph, unknown to mortal heroes. 
 
168 
 
 These mortal heroes, indeed, may have ventured 
 upon death, despising life and all its enjoyments, but 
 all the while were evidently concerned for their vain 
 glory, and the useless perpetuity of a name. The 
 peculiar distinction of the Christian hero is, that he 
 not only can meet death as a vanquished foe, but also 
 can look down upon the unjust infamy of the world 
 with a noble scorn, valuing it, and all mere reputation 
 among worms, as trifling pageantry or idle pride. 
 He can live and die in secret, which none of these 
 ostentatious mortals can either endure or dare to do. 
 
 No man can live truly by his own power, but only 
 by power from on high. The Christian, therefore, 
 is daily looking unto Jesus, his head of life, for the 
 maintenance and support of every grace. If Christ 
 withdraw his hand, he must fall ; for, in himself, the 
 strongest, the wisest, the holiest Christian, is con- 
 fusion and wickedness, weakness and nothing. He 
 feels himself void of all good, and flies to Jesus, 
 therefore, to obtain it. When he doth not enjoy 
 his Saviour, he cannot enjoy himself. But when he 
 hath him, he hath more than all things ; because he 
 hath him who made and possesses them all. 
 
 They who are great, and love to be great, in out- 
 ward things, have commonly but little of this essen- 
 tial life within them. When the soul hath no feast 
 within, it gads abroad for delight, and will put up 
 with mean and carnal trash, unsuitable to its proper 
 nature, rather than have nothing. Outward pomp 
 and carnal show in religion, above all, commonly pro- 
 claim an inward emptiness and want. 
 
 There is a carnal knowledge of spiritual things, 
 
169 
 
 which the apostle calls a " knowing Christ after the 
 flesh," and which is very different from the divine 
 knowledge of those things. The apostles appear to 
 have had chiefly, if not only, the former, till the day 
 of Pentecost, when they fully " received power from 
 on high." They indeed loved Christ, and sincerely 
 followed him before ; but their love and knowledge 
 of the Saviour had in it a large mixture of flesh and 
 corruption. Hence, they were astonished to hear 
 of his sufferings and death, and their own humilia- 
 tion ; when it is plain enough, they expected great 
 temporal advancement and honour for themselves, 
 and a glorious temporal kingdom for him. Even 
 after his resurrection, like the Jews at large, they 
 thought of a " kingdom to be restored unto Israel:" 
 but, when the true kingdom came into their hearts, 
 we hear no more of these carnal expectations, but of 
 a joyful readiness to suffer persecution and death for 
 their Lord, and to go somewhere else, instead of this 
 world, fully to enjoy him. 
 
 So, among us called Christians, there is this car- 
 nal knowledge of Christ, consisting in outward pro- 
 fession and a natural understanding of the truths of 
 the gospel, which is also mixed sometimes with de- 
 grees of grace and spiritual life. But persons in 
 this state are much in outward things, are great out- 
 wardly, talk of religion outwardly, and of its great 
 advancement by great human helps in the world. 
 They are strong in their animal passions, carry these 
 into religious matters, make a vast noise and agita- 
 tion among men, are great rulers if possible, seek to 
 carry all church affairs in their own way, and, in 
 H 9 
 
170 
 
 short, are never easy out of a bustle, and certainly 
 never easy in it. When these people sink into 
 themselves by getting more true life in Christ, they 
 are found to be more and more mild, humble, patient, 
 gentle, " not obtruding themselves into things which 
 they have not seen, nor vainly puffed up by their 
 fleshly mind." Then Christ is all in all to them ; 
 and they themselves nothing at all without him. 
 Then it is that they lose their own lives, and find them 
 again with great interest and sweetness in Christ. 
 
 If the love and word of Christ " dwell in us richly 
 in all wisdom," we shall desire to be much with 
 Christ in our spirits, and to shut out all possible in- 
 terruptions and hinderances in our communion with 
 him. This is our great happiness, and the true life 
 of God in the soul of man. 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 On the Opinion of Carnal Men, 
 
 The judgment which natural men form of spi- 
 ritual life, is altogether wild and extravagant, gross 
 and injurious. " The things of God himself are 
 foolishness unto them, neither can they know them, 
 because they are spiritually discerned." And can 
 those think rightly of the people of God, who have 
 not the faculties to think rightly of the things which 
 render them distinct from other men, and which are 
 the very grounds and principles of God's conduct to- 
 
171 
 
 wards them ? And ought a Christian to be moved 
 exceedingly at the judgment of ignorance and error ? 
 
 This world's opinion of all divine things is indeed 
 very foolish and vain. It condemns what it hath 
 not seen, and despises what it doth not know. It 
 laughs at the wisdom of God, which it is too weak 
 to apprehend, and sets up its own mutable reason, 
 which is but folly, in its stead. A few years shall 
 lay it low ; aud the wisest of the worldly-wise will 
 be the first to condemn themselves for the madmen 
 and the fools. Wisd. v. 4. 
 
 Be satisfied, then, fellow-christian, with the just 
 judgment of God. Thou canst not be more despised 
 than thy Saviour was. He indeed deserved no 
 scorn, but thou much more than thou canst have. 
 If they called the Master of the house " Beelzebub," 
 Ehall those, who are of the household, think to escape 
 a hard name ? — No ; let them bear it for his sake : it 
 will never disgrace them in heaven. 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 On the Esteem of Good Men. 
 
 Though a nice sense of honour, consistent with 
 his profession, becomes a Christian ; yet, an over-nice 
 care to get honour from any man is neither the duty 
 nor practice of the Christian life. 
 
 Be not too anxious, my brother, for the good opin- 
 ion even of the best of men, nor altogether judge 
 h 2 
 
172 
 
 of thy state by so uncertain a rule. Concern of this 
 kind seems to argue a too fond regard of thy carnal 
 self, or of thy own state in the world. If they show 
 disrespect, and if it arise from mistake, rejoice that 
 thy true hidden life depends not on the opinions of 
 mortals, but on the love and just judgment of an un- 
 erring Redeemer. The opinion of others can neither 
 make nor unmake thee, as a Christian. But if their 
 disesteem be founded in truth, fear not to dive to 
 the bottom of thine own undeservings, and cease not 
 to pray for grace to correct them. Be not offended 
 with thy brethren in either case; fo» this will lead 
 to ruptures, neither for their profit nor thine. The 
 glory of God and of his truth is also concerned, 
 which should fill thee with the greater forbearance 
 and caution in all thy dealings with " the household 
 of faith." Pray for wisdom to examine thy cause 
 faithfully, to know the worst that can be found 
 of thyself, and to see into the truth or mistake of 
 others. And if, in thine own conscience, the right 
 be with thee, be thankful for the mercy, and cease 
 not, because they need it, to pray for them who are 
 in the wrong. Thy true charity should relieve, in 
 this way, their spiritual necessity, and so rise, with 
 that lawful triumph of a Christian, by a holy and in- 
 ward superiority of meekness and of love. 
 
 Beware of anger and offence. The wrath of man 
 cannot work the righteousness of God. Be hum- 
 bled by every disesteem, whether just or unjust, 
 within thyself. This is gaining a step in the great 
 inward and spiritual progress of self-renunciation ; for 
 which end, these means, though unpleasant to proud 
 
173 
 
 nature, may have been mercifully and providentially 
 ordained. Fear not to see the worst of thine own 
 infirmities : tremble rather, lest they should be hid- 
 den from thee. When thou art made truly low in 
 thine own eyes, the slights and contempts even of 
 good men, proceeding, as they usually do, not from 
 grace but common infirmities, will not over-much 
 vex thee. It is the fondness of self, and the pride 
 of our hearts, which render all outward insult and 
 injury distressing and painful. He that thinks little 
 of himself, can bear to be thought little of by others : 
 but he that is lifted up within, is grieved when he 
 cannot find that tribute of respect which his own 
 foolish fondness hath ordained for himself. 
 
 The best remedy for spiritual disorder is spiritual 
 prayer. Corruption inflicts or feels pain ; and grace 
 should subdue corruption. It is the true wisdom of 
 a Christian to set his faith, and not the passions of 
 his unholy nature, at work upon evil. Grace will 
 teach him not to huff, or snort, or resent, or speak 
 great swelling words of carnal indignation ; but to 
 bear and forbear, and pray, and wait, and entreat, ac- 
 cording to the occasion. When the rough north 
 wind of trial rages and raves, then the graces of the 
 Christian should more abundantly flow. All this is 
 difficult, without a doubt; but will not a gracious 
 success be afterwards a comfort to the believer, both 
 as it affords a real proof of the true life of Christ 
 within him, and an occasion of glorifying God before 
 men ? And if it answer these ends, how great is his 
 reason to be thankful ! 
 
 When gracious men see all this work upon thee, 
 
174 
 
 they will honour God in his own gifts : but if they 
 do not, it is in no man's power to alter thy condition 
 with him. Be deeply thankful that thou hast found 
 mercy; and show forbearance to those who need it 
 from thee. 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 Weakness is Impatient. 
 
 It is not strength, but weakness, which complains. 
 He that is strong can well bear the infirmities of the 
 weak : he that is weak cannot bear at all, but is 
 overwhelmed with his own. A father in Christ can 
 put up with the frowardness and indiscretion of the 
 babe in Christ ; but the latter, having his mind but 
 little exercised, is full of dislikes, and always wants 
 his own will and way : otherwise, he complains. 
 
 This weakness is commonly captious ; fonder of 
 finding errors than healing them, and more able to 
 discover the grounds of difference than wisely to take 
 up the points of unity. Sincere, yet quarrelsome; 
 troubled, yet headstrong; young in the faith, yet 
 presuming ; fond of parties and persons, of modes 
 and of forms of doctrine, with warm heart and little 
 experience ; all this is the character of most young 
 or weak professors. When they grow older in grace, 
 they become wiser in the kingdom, more catholic, 
 patient, forbearing, candid, and forgiving. They see 
 a thousand mistakes and often wilfulness in their own 
 first profession ; and these incline them, through an 
 
175 
 
 increase of wisdom and strength, to suffer kindly the 
 infirmities and frailties of others. They then love 
 what is real, encourage what is weak, pardon what is 
 childish, endure what is troublesome, correct what is 
 evil, and pray, not rave, when they see but slow im- 
 provements. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 On Retirement. 
 
 Whatever is a man's first great business in life, 
 that he will pursue most, and desire to study with 
 the least interruption and disorder. A man of this 
 world hath his heart only in the world; but a Chris- 
 tian gets as much as possible into heavenly things, 
 because his heart and his treasure are in heaven. 
 
 The God of wisdom himself hath said, that no 
 man can serve him and mammon. We have but one 
 heart, which we cannot divide; and, if it were possi- 
 ble, " a heart, and a heart," or a heart divided, would 
 be a hateful offering to the Most High. 
 
 There is no real Christian but who feels and bewails 
 how often his common affairs draw off his mind from 
 his best affairs, and throw him into dulness and dis- 
 traction. He feels and bewails this, because he is a 
 Christian, and because his best affections are some- 
 where else. His grief is not so much, that he must 
 apply himself to social duties, which are indispensa- 
 ble to every one according to his place under Pro- 
 vidence, but that he cannot carry more of the true 
 
176 
 
 spirit and unction of religion into them. Could they 
 be more and more sanctified by the word of God 
 and prayer, and could his mind be more delivered 
 from the worldliness both of them and of those with 
 whom he must have to do, they would grow into a 
 kind of holy ordinances to him, and, instead of hin- 
 dering his faith, would improve his joy. We forget 
 to bring religion into our common course of life ; and 
 so that course is suffered to bring its own punish- 
 ment and trouble upon us. A Christian, living like 
 a Christian in his outward profession, is far more in 
 the way of rendering glory to God, and of doing 
 good to men, than a hermit, who doeth nothing in 
 his wilderness but seek himself; or a monk, who, by 
 the torture of his body, thinks to work out his own 
 righteousness by which to merit heaven. The true 
 retirement is retiring from the sinful customs and 
 spirit of this world, and giving up the soul to God 
 in all things. 
 
 Having said this, it is also right to say, that there 
 should be hours of secret retirement to every Chris- 
 tian, if possible ; or, at least, as much time as pos- 
 sible, for prayer, meditation, and reading, upon the 
 things of God. Where this time is through neces- 
 sity short, as it often must be among the- poor, who 
 generally are God's own rich ones — still the real 
 believer, in the midst of any or of all his business, 
 may now and then sweetly dart up his soul to God 
 ill fervent ejaculations, which will keep up the true 
 frame of his mind, and draw down many comforts 
 from above. These short and silent breathings will 
 also show a lover's heart, and prove, that, whatever 
 
177 
 
 may employ his hands, his mind is truly engaged for 
 heaven. 
 
 Where circumstances of life, and the capacity of 
 persons, will admit of farther separation from the 
 world, it will be right, because advantageous, to use 
 it. The retirement, however, must be for God, and 
 not for self; in the spirit of religion, and not of lazi- 
 ness ; to be more quickened for heaven, and not to 
 be more useless upon earth. Hence it will be seen, 
 that all Christians are neither called to, nor fit for, 
 an entire seclusion from the world : their habits, dis- 
 positions, abilities, and occupations of life, render it 
 improper for them. 
 
 When a Christian can fill up all his retirement 
 with the things of God, and for his glory, with no 
 just demand upon him from secular affairs, it is cer- 
 tainly a most high and desirable privilege. Such a 
 one may and ought to further himself in knowledge, 
 and devote all he knows, through grace, to the glory 
 of God, and the edification of men. Leisure is abused 
 when employed in tattle and dissipation, as it often 
 is ; and the abuser had much better be engaged in 
 some active calling and employment. The droning 
 tale of a gossip has but little to do with the life of 
 the gospel. 
 
 To retire indeed unto God, is the most severe and 
 solemn business in the world. It is a sort of middle 
 state between heaven and earth, which no carnal 
 mind can either understand or love. The froth and 
 levity of the flesh must be subdued, else all the re- 
 tirement will end in vanity. Humble and ardent 
 prayer should begin the day, the study or the exer- 
 h 3 
 
178 
 
 cise of gracious things should carry it on ; some inter- 
 vals must be found for supplications and praise ; strict 
 watchfulness and trials must be continually made upon 
 the heart ; and growing meetness for death and hea- 
 ven must appear in the life, and no rest be taken at 
 night, but after humble prayer and surrender of all 
 into the hands of God, for time and eternity. A 
 circumspect Christian is more careful of his time 
 than any other man, because he can spend it more 
 preciously. He thinks it a sad loss to throw away 
 hours, which might have been employed in the works 
 or word of God. 
 
 When the truly retired Christian is alone, he is, 
 as one says, " never less alone ;" for God is with him, 
 and in him of a truth. He not only goeth into his 
 study or his closet, but gets within himself, into the 
 closet of his heart, and watches all the motions of 
 nature and grace. Thus in time he becomes truly 
 learned in that most difficult subject — his own self. 
 
 When we talk much with others, it is hardly pos- 
 sible, in a nature so fallen and corrupt as ours, not to 
 talk amiss. But when we commune with God, he 
 speaketh so with us, as to give an increase of wisdom 
 and grace, with much solid refreshment of mind. 
 His word and will become plain and familiar to our 
 souls ; we enter into the spirit of his ways ; and our 
 spirits feel many undoubted proofs, both of their 
 own immortality, and of the great blessedness of ap- 
 proaching glory. This, wherever it abounds, deadens 
 the affection of a Christian to the low and vain dis- 
 course of the world ; renders him more happy in, and 
 fit for, his retirement, and enlivens his hopes for God 
 
179 
 
 and heaven. What improvement thus to live ! 
 What blessedness thus to die ! 
 
 Many retire, that they may see and hear more of 
 the world, and be entertained with its novelties or 
 news : but the believer would withdraw to dive more 
 fully into himself, as into a subject deep and little 
 known, and to be more acquainted with his Re- 
 deemer in all the wonders and manifestations of his 
 grace. It is a day lost indeed, when he obtains 
 no prospect of heaven, or hath made no steps to- 
 wards it. 
 
 If a man doth not thus retire, he only opens a wide 
 door to all sorts of temptations to rush in upon him. 
 So very few are fitted for, or called to, this kind of 
 leisure, (though by abuse only it becomes leisure,) 
 that God, in his wisdom, hath appointed so much 
 corporeal employment in the world, even for his own 
 children. As the earth would be more an Aceldama, 
 or field of blood, than it is, but for necessary labours, 
 which call away, in some respect or other, almost all 
 men — so the church itself would be more defiled, and 
 individuals more unholy, than they are already, if 
 manual or active duties did not take up the greatest 
 part of their time. 
 
 I have known many professors, and some of an 
 order too which should have engaged them mostly 
 in things divine, who have wasted, in frivolous dis- 
 courses, mean pursuits, idle engagements, and other 
 sad dissipations, large portions of that time which 
 should have been devoted to studious improvement, 
 serious conversation, or active piety. Vessels thus 
 ever running out, how and when can they be filled ? 
 
180 
 
 And what have they for others, who lay up so little 
 for themselves ? 
 
 O Lord, help me to retire indeed, but yet chiefly 
 for thee, and for greater communion with thee ! 
 When I find thee not in my heart, it is hard and 
 darkened : when thou art not in my closet, it is either 
 full of confusion as a market, or it is desert as a wil- 
 derness. I can get nothing; and I soon feel that I 
 am nothing, but an empty, unprofitable void. O 
 cheer thy poor servant with thy presence, who would 
 indeed be a stranger and a pilgrim upon earth ; yea, 
 if it be thy will, a stranger to every thing but thee ; 
 having my heart in thy home, and my soul, in every 
 respect, under thy command ! Lord, thus help me 
 to withdraw from the world, only to draw nearer, both 
 in spirit and in truth, unto thyself, and to whatever 
 relates to thy glory ! 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 On the Fear of Man. 
 
 He that unduly fears man, cannot truly fear God : 
 and he that lives much in the fear of God, will not 
 regard over-much what man can do unto him. The 
 want of faith is the root of all carnal fear, which be- 
 comes less and less, as faith gathers strength and in- 
 creases in the soul. It is a sad hinderance in the 
 ways of God, as well as torment, to live under the 
 views, opinions, prejudices, and passions of worldly 
 men. 
 
181 
 
 " The fear of man bringeth a snare ;" and a snare 
 for all sorts of evils. Mild, gentle, feeling, and 
 delicate tempers, are most exposed to this danger ; 
 and they should pray much to him who strengthens 
 the weak, for fortitude without rudeness, for reso- 
 lution without roughness, and for stability without 
 stubbornness, that so they may properly act and hold 
 out in the time of trial. 
 
 When it is a principle graciously established in 
 the soul, that men can do nothing to us but which is 
 for our good, and that they must do whatever is, it 
 greatly abates that fickle feebleness of nature, which, 
 out of too much love and care for itself, brings us 
 into bondage of heart to wretched worms, " whose 
 breath is in their nostrils," and themselves, in this 
 way, " not to be accounted of." 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 On my own Imperfections. 
 
 While I am in the flesh, I must be encompassed 
 with many infirmities ; and while I am in the world, 
 I cannot escape trial and temptation. These things 
 are grievous to my spirit ; but I see that they are 
 permitted to wean me from myself, and to draw orF 
 my heart from the creatures to my only true refuge 
 in God. 
 
 What feebleness, at times, do I not feel in duty ; 
 what fickleness and unsteadiness in following my 
 Redeemer what dulness and distraction in prayer ; 
 
182 
 
 so that I can hardly remain firm and lively long to- 
 gether, in the pursuit of that good which my soul 
 most desires and approves ! It is a war indeed in 
 my members to get my corrupted nature down, and 
 to have the life of grace warm and vigorous within 
 me. I cannot but groan, at times, in this tabernacle, 
 being burdened, and almost oppressed, by the evils 
 within and about me. 
 
 Were it not for divine help, O what should I do? 
 Like Peter on the sea, I have sometimes ventured 
 boldly after my Lord; but like him too, through 
 faintness of heart and weakness of faith, at other 
 times, I have cried out, " Lord, save, or I perish !" 
 Thou hast helped me indeed, blessed be thy name, 
 
 my God ! and yet I cannot but reproach myself 
 for the cold forgetfulness and weakness of my spirit, 
 in doubting so often of thy faithfulness, and in not 
 keeping hold of thy promises. 
 
 Thus, Lord, I feel myself a poor, a frail, and al- 
 together a weak and worthless man ; fit for nothing 
 but thy mercy, and capable of nothing, when left to 
 my own nature, but rebellion against it. When I 
 survey myself, and all my confused and ruined facul- 
 ties, I am filled with shame, and cannot but wonder 
 at thy long-suffering towards me. O wretch that I 
 am, in what a vile body of sin do I live ! How am 
 
 1 always struggling against thee with my perverse 
 and wicked flesh, contrary to the true and lasting 
 interests of my soul ! How ready to yield to thine 
 enemy and mine ; or to give up all for lost, rather 
 than maintain the hard and painful struggle with cor- 
 ruption and sin ! 
 
183 
 
 When I have been lively and zealous for my God, 
 how often have I been ready to overlook, to mis- 
 apply, or to turn his grace to the foolish vanity of my 
 own mind ! Insomuch, at times, I seem all flesh to 
 myself, and to have neither true light, life, wisdom, 
 nor strength from above, within me. My failures 
 are, and have been, so numerous, the apostacy of my 
 heart so great, the conduct of my life and temper so 
 mutable and irregular, and all my frame so poor and 
 wavering, so cold and weak in embracing the best 
 things, that I am ready to bemoan with the prophet, 
 " Woe is me, for I am undone ; because I am a man 
 of unclean lips ! My whole head is sick, and my 
 whole heart is faint." 
 
 Others may talk of their wills and their powers, 
 their duties and their deserts ; but, as for me, I can 
 scarcely lift up my eyes to heaven when I consider 
 myself: rather with the publican, my brother, I must 
 smite upon my breast and say, " God be merciful 
 to me a sinner !" Instead of looking on myself as 
 a fine holy creature, who can appear confidently be- 
 fore my God, I shrink with contrition and shame 
 at the thought, that I have done little else than 
 dishonour him all my days, and deserve nothing for 
 the best thing I was ever able to do, but confusion 
 and sorrow. 
 
 O what a plague is discovered in a man's own 
 heart, when he knows himself; and how little doth 
 he appear in his own eyes, when he hath been made 
 to view, in some true light and degree, the piercing 
 purity and perfections of God ! 
 
 And yet, O marvellous to say, God is pleased, 
 
184 
 
 by all the weak and contrary things in me, to mag- 
 nify his own power and glory ! By these he makes 
 me out of humour with myself; by these he drives 
 me from a thousand refuges of lies ; by these he 
 compels me to cleave unto him, as my only Rock, 
 Succour, and Remedy. In this way, I can feel, as 
 well as read, what the apostle meant, where he says, 
 " Most gladly therefore will I glory in my infirmities, 
 that the power of Christ may rest upon me" — " for 
 when I am weak, than I am strong." These are 
 strange paradoxes to the natural heart ; but blessed 
 is the man who can truly understand, and enter into 
 their sweet sense and experience. 
 
 CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 The Believer receives Food, as well as Light, in the 
 Word and Doctrines of Christ. 
 
 The mere notion of divine things without their 
 power, cannot profit the soul. As a man may be 
 poor with the plan of a large estate, of which he hath 
 no possession, so a professor of Christianity may 
 have the Bible before him, and may be able to raise 
 very high and fine speculations from it, and yet have 
 no true knowledge or enjoyment of the truths which 
 it contains. 
 
 A minister may preach of these truths with great 
 clearness, great readiness, and great noise ; and yet 
 have no true savour, no solid experience, and no 
 
185 
 
 real communion, of the truths themselves within him. 
 What proves this is, that he is not the same man 
 in the pulpit and in the world. The doctrines of 
 the gospel will serve for orations as well as other 
 topics; nay, will serve for the finest orations, because 
 there is more of sublimity and glory in them than in 
 any other. 
 
 An author likewise may write about divine revela- 
 tion, and all the mysteries of redemption, with preci- 
 sion, accuracy, force, and elegance, and yet himself 
 be destitute of the main concern, which is the faith 
 and inward perception of these things for his own 
 soul. I would deal fairly and closely with myself in 
 this respect, as well as with others ; and I will own, 
 that my light is far beyond my liveliness ; and though 
 I humbly trust that I have some little real life in 
 my knowledge of God and his truths, yet I confess, 
 with an aching heart, that it is indeed but little, too 
 little, and much less than my own fondness for my- 
 self, or vanity, or pride, or conceit, (for, Lord, thou 
 khowest, and I know, that 1 have all these in abun- 
 dance w r ithin me !) will suffer me at times to think 
 that I have. Perceiving then my own weakness, and 
 the deceivableness of unrighteousness in my own 
 heart, I am able to see, and yet to pity and bear 
 with, the same infirmities and defects in others. 
 
 However, no real believer can find much or long 
 satisfaction in any notions or conceptions of divine 
 truth, though very sublime, clear, full, extensive, and 
 convincing, without something of a more substantial 
 nature arising from them. He doth not despise 
 head-knowledge indeed, because by this he can see 
 
186 
 
 the wisdom of God ; but he would have heart-know- 
 ledge too, because he wishes to taste, to enjoy, to be 
 assured of his interest in the love of God. He can 
 no more feed upon words and syllables, in his soul, 
 than he can live upon air only for his body. 
 
 The Lord, therefore, when he imparts the demon- 
 stration of the Spirit to a man, imparts it " not in 
 word only, but in power:" and so the gospel becomes 
 " the power of God unto salvation to every one that 
 believeth." He cannot receive it aright without this 
 power; he cannot live upon it but by this power; nor 
 hold out in living and believing to the end but by the 
 same power. 
 
 This gracious feeding of the soul upon the things 
 of God is its greatest enjoyment here upon earth, 
 and one of its bright evidences for heaven. It is a 
 secret holy act, carried on best without the clutter of 
 the animal passions, or the intercourse of corporeal 
 things. The holy bread was eaten in the holy place, 
 before the holy light; and all out of the air, or view, 
 or correspondence of the world. Thus, in the secret 
 place of the Most High, the soul feeds upon Christ, 
 beholds Christ, and obtains all its divine communion 
 with the things of God. And when it hath thus 
 tasted that the Lord is gracious, it loves to be with 
 him, and says earnestly, as Peter did, " It is good 
 to be here." The carnal notion even of the best 
 things will no longer satisfy or feed it. The bread 
 of God which cometh down from heaven, and giveth 
 life to the hungrv soul, can alone satiate its cravings, 
 and completely answer its desires. 
 
187 
 
 CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 On the Spirit of Scoffing. 
 
 It is no less ungracious than unwise to indulge a 
 scoffing temper in our souls. Pride and an unmor- 
 tified opinion of self, joined with contempt of others, 
 are the true origin of this evil. It is the more dan- 
 gerous, and not so much to the scorned as to the 
 scorning, when set off with wit and mimicry, point 
 and satire. But attic salt is not the salt of the co- 
 venant ; and, in sacred things especially, is not the 
 true savour for a Christian. 
 
 It may be diverting to mimic and to take off others, 
 in order to expose their foibles or defects; but how 
 and to whom is it diverting? Is it to the humble, 
 spiritual, and mortified mind ? No, but to the pro- 
 fane and the carnal; or, at least, to what is carnal and 
 profane in a Christian, which is the very principle of 
 all others that he would not strengthen or encourage, 
 but subdue. 
 
 There is so much inhumanity, as well as irreligion, 
 in this jeering temper, and usually so little good 
 sense, that the Christian is bound to oppose it both 
 in himself and in others. Cheerfulness is his privi- 
 lege; but surely he may be happy in his mind with- 
 out planting thorns elsewhere : nay, it proceeds from 
 the want of true happiness, if he can endure at any 
 rate such a contemptible shadow of it. True peace 
 is gentle in itself, and glows most sweetly in diffus- 
 
188 
 
 ing gentleness and kindness on every side. The 
 happy Christian would increase his own joy, by mak- 
 ing, if possible, every one truly happy about him. 
 
 CHAP. XXX. 
 
 It is a great point of Christian Wisdom to distinguish 
 well between Nature and Grace. 
 
 Every real believer hath an old man and a new, 
 au Esau and a Jacob, a carnal mind and a spiritual 
 mind, within him : and these are contrary the one to 
 the other; so that he cannot always do the right 
 things that he would do for God, nor crush the evil 
 things that he would not do within himself. 
 
 These opposite principles have two opposite laws 
 or rules of action and power. The inclination and 
 effect of the one are constantly directed to self, and 
 to carnal things for the indulgence of self; and those 
 of the other to God, and to spiritual things for the 
 glory of God. 
 
 Men under nature, having only one of these prin- 
 ciples, cannot, in their natural state, discern the other. 
 It is by grace, as by a rule, that they are able to 
 measure nature, and to know the tendencies and pro- 
 portions of both grace and nature, within themselves. 
 " He that is spiritual, judgeth or discerneth all things; 
 yet he himself is judged of no man." 
 
 Nature in the Christian is for cleaving to sense, 
 to its own doings, and to its own powers, even in 
 
189 
 
 religion : but grace in his soul is for living by faith, 
 above and often against the feelings of sense, upon 
 " the truth as it is in Jesus," and upon his work 
 and working, for life and salvation. 
 
 Nature loves to show and set off itself, and to be 
 admired as excellent, eminent, wise, and great, in the 
 eyes of men. Grace doth not set much by itself, 
 but is lowly and humble, vaunteth not itself, is not 
 puffed up, dreads the applauses of men, and enables 
 the soul to see, that it is so utterly weak and poor, 
 as well as vile, that it must receive out of the fulness 
 of Christ every one of its blessings, from the first 
 spark of grace to the bright crown of glory. 
 
 Nature is quarrelsome, impatient, and full of rest- 
 lessness, desiring its own objects immediately and 
 independently, and applying all it receives to its own 
 ease or aggrandizement. Grace seeketh not her 
 own, but the things which are Jesus Christ's, makes 
 the spirit meek, and mild, and patient, and quiets it 
 with the will and love of God in all things. 
 
 Nature hates the cross, and shuns it as a bitter 
 and evil thing ; it struggles hard not to feel it, and, 
 when it feels it, to get rid of it, without any other 
 consideration than that it is painful, and hinders all 
 indulgences and gratifications. But grace submits 
 to the cross with humble resignation, and desires that 
 God's purpose may be answered by it ; like as a wise 
 patient wishes that his physic may have its due effect, 
 however unpleasant and distasteful it may be in the 
 act of receiving. 
 
 When nature attempts holy duties, as she some- 
 times will, either in fear or in pride, it is to make 
 
190 
 
 herself rich and increased in goods by them, so that 
 she may have something wherewith to purchase even 
 of God himself. But grace comes to the obedience 
 of faith, not to live or purchase life, but because she 
 is truly alive already to God; and she acts, not for 
 her own exaltation, but for the glory of him who 
 only can exalt, and who fills the hungry with good 
 things, while the rich he sends empty away. 
 
 Nature admires dignity, and parade, and pomp, 
 and outward splendour; it seeks to be pleased with 
 sweet sounds, fine language, decorated places, and 
 genteel company; and all this in religion too. Where- 
 as grace shuns and distastes all gay appearances of 
 earth, thinks of Christ in a stable, and in poverty, 
 and of all he did and suffered to stain the pride of 
 flesh and blood; and receives the favour of God as a 
 precious pearl, for its own intrinsic and eternal value, 
 and not for the sake of any outward things different 
 in kind from its own. 
 
 Nature loves life, and to see good days in this 
 world, and as many of them as possible ; it shudders 
 to give up its temporal enjoyments and carnal hopes, 
 and would endure a great alloy of care and trouble, 
 rather than part with the lying vanities to which it 
 is wedded, and in which it delights. Grace, contra- 
 riwise, can say with holy Job, " I would not live 
 always" upon earth, if I might; for " I have a desire 
 to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better." 
 Grace can think upon death as a friend, and hath 
 often met him as such ; looking forward to the crown 
 of glory, which death can only lead to, but never can 
 take away; and all its trials here only cause a stronger 
 
191 
 
 breathing and livelier expectation of the heavenly 
 home. 
 
 Nature is forward to speak, and loves to be heard, 
 and will be angry if not regarded, and will do much 
 to be seen and known. Grace is slow to speak, and 
 slow to wrath ; wishes to hear, and learn, and under- 
 stand; delights not to be in the chief seat, but is 
 content with the lowest; and had rather lay up spi- 
 ritual treasure in the heart, than babble it away, for 
 selfish aims, with the tongue. It is not petulant or 
 vexed if disregarded, but commits itself and the 
 whole of the matter to God. 
 
 Nature draweth from its own fund, and carrieth 
 all back, and with interest if possible, to itself again. 
 But grace receiveth all from God, and is never so 
 truly delighted, as when God receiveth the whole of 
 the glory, as his just return. 
 
 These are a few of the many distinct operations 
 of nature and grace. But sometimes they are so 
 perplexed and interwoven with each other, through 
 the craft and duplicity of the fallen natural principle, 
 that it requires the greatest watchfulness and atten- 
 tion of the Christian, to unravel and divide them. 
 The fact is, the two principles live at one time, act 
 at one time ; and will be found in one and the same 
 person at all times and in all things, while he lives 
 upon earth. The Christian cannot avoid the activity 
 of his natural or carnal mind; though, by that faith 
 and prayer, which removes the spiritual mountains of 
 difficulty, he is to strive, and may prevail against its 
 high rule and predominancy. Carnality will exist, 
 while he exists below ; but it must not be the reign- 
 
192 
 
 ing and triumphant principle within him. On the 
 other hand, grace, which is pure and simple in all its 
 own acts and intentions, and resolves every thing 
 with a single eye and a single heart unto God, must 
 take the lead, and bring the other into the closest 
 captivity and obedience that can be unto Christ. 
 This is the daily battle and warfare, which passes 
 within the Christian, and which no eye can see, but 
 the eye of God and his own: yea, not his own always, 
 nor always alike. Thus, when grace prevails, there 
 ensue what is called mortification, self-denial, humi- 
 liation, renunciation, and all the other exercises, 
 which are painful to the flesh, or nature, and its will 
 and ways. On the contrary, when nature is upper- 
 most, there ever will arise coldness towards God, 
 faintness in duty, doubts, reasonings, discomforts, 
 fear of man, fear of death, and a whole world full of 
 weaknesses, hinderances, and temptations. By the 
 prevalence of these different effects in the soul, may 
 easily be seen, if attended to, the leading superioity of 
 one or other of their respective principles. When 
 there is a strong animal or carnal nature in the be- 
 liever, though with a good measure of grace, and trial 
 comes of a powerful and threatening kind, O what a 
 tumult is raised within ! Nature struggles for ease, 
 and winds, and turns, and frets, and laments, and uses 
 a thousand shifts to carry off the believer from the 
 battle, or to melt away his heart in the midst of it. 
 Grace, on the other hand, tells him, that now is his 
 time to act like the Christian, to lay hold upon Christ 
 and his promises, to take up the shield of faith, the 
 sword of the Spirit, and the helmet of salvation, and 
 
193 
 
 to withstand at least, if not even to meet, the enemy; 
 that he shall conquer the trial by suffering the will 
 of God, it being his present duty to trust, to hope, 
 to pray, to wait; and that, in a short time at the 
 utmost, all shall end well, and redound both to his 
 Redeemer's honour and his own improvement. What 
 conflicts, perturbations, hopes, resignations, despond- 
 encies, will not the Christian find in the constant 
 opposition of the carnal to the spiritual life: when 
 temptations, troubles, or trials of any sort, are to 
 prove the strength of both ! And yet, after the 
 temptation, it is in some measure with him, as it was 
 with Christ after his — comforts, like angels, will 
 minister unto him. There is such a peaceable fruit 
 of righteousness succeeding to these grievous things, 
 as will make the believer a most ample amends for all 
 his trouble and sorrows. But if this fruit should be 
 deferred in the present life, it will be but the more 
 welcome and glorious, when the soul bursts out from 
 the bonds of clay, and leaves all sin and a sinful na- 
 ture behind it. 
 
 CHAP. XXXI. 
 
 On Temptations. 
 
 It is a great part of the Christian warfare to en- 
 counter temptations. When a man truly becomes 
 Christ's soldier, he is armed from head to foot by 
 him; because, from head to foot will his enemies 
 I 9 
 
194 
 
 attack him with all sorts of weapons, to inflict all 
 possible distress, when they cannot overwhelm with 
 destruction. He hath, because he needs, " the whole 
 armour of God," that he may both stand and with- 
 stand, during the evil day of this mortal life. 
 
 O how many fiery darts are thrown, with all the 
 vehemence of spirits, against the Christian's soul ! 
 If his armour doth not sit close upon him, and if the 
 shield of faith be not well and constantly held up to 
 catch and repel the assault, how many sore, and 
 almost venomous wounds, will he not endure ? Nay, 
 if the Christian think to be only upon the defence, 
 and fight not in his turn, it will be with him, as it 
 is in all defensive wars among men, very troublesome 
 and very disadvantageous. He hath therefore a wea- 
 pon given him, that he may attack too; and when 
 he wields, in the strength of his Captain, " the sword 
 of the Spirit," which is " the word of God," the 
 great spiritual foe remembers the deep strokes he 
 received by it from Christ himself in his temptation, 
 and shrinks away from its edge. If the Christian 
 should be so unwise as to fight the enemy in his own 
 might, and without this armour, he would suffer as 
 a man must do that would encounter a whole host 
 in array, (every individual of which is almost in- 
 finitely stronger than himself,) naked, unsupported, 
 unarmed. None know the strength of the world, 
 the flesh, and the devil, but those who have life, and 
 are called to oppose them; just as the force of a 
 stream is tried by the resistance made against it. 
 The people of Christ too often fall into an unpre- 
 scribed way of fighting, through a presumption of 
 
195 
 
 their own conduct and power, and therefore are often 
 brought off from the field wounded and half dead: and 
 it is through the mercy and grace of their Lord, that 
 they are not entirely captured and destroyed. They 
 are usually more ready to look to their armour, and 
 call upon their Leader, in great trials ; and therefore 
 they prevail : but when they despise the strength of 
 a little temptation, and fight against it in their own, 
 then it is that they are deeply taught their inward and 
 natural weakness, by losing the day. In their Cap- 
 tain's armour, in his strength, and by his sword, 
 " they must resist the devil;" and so to their joy 
 shall they find, that he will presently fly away from 
 them. 
 
 Nothing escapes the vigilance of this foe. He 
 observes the particular constitutions of persons ; and 
 he makes his attacks upon all the weak and un- 
 guarded parts. He suits his devices to the frame 
 of their dispositions ; and if they are ignorant of those 
 devices, he will often make sad havoc and distress. 
 
 He also knows that the Christian hath traitors 
 in his own bosom, once under full diabolical com- 
 mand, and now not absolutely suppressed and con- 
 fined. These he bribes, entices, advises, corresponds 
 with, and acts by; so that when the assault is made 
 from without, these suspicious inmates are not idle 
 within, but join hand, head, and heart, as it were, to 
 throw all open to the enemy. 
 
 Hence, for these inbred foes, envy, pride, malice, 
 lust, and all the confederacy of black and carnal prin- 
 ciples, Satan finds out and proposes their several 
 objects of desire. These are soon converted into 
 i 2 
 
196 
 
 engines of war against the soul; and if the Chris- 
 tian's thoughts are not brought into captivity to the 
 obedience of Christ, they will lead him in bonds (as 
 it were) to his old master, who used, before he was 
 a Christian, to " take him captive at his will." What 
 disgrace doth this bring to his holy profession; and 
 what misery, both before and after his recovery, to 
 himself ! 
 
 Satan hath also sly and subtle temptations, per- 
 verted from religion itself, by which he often assaults 
 the mind. Sometimes he will raise snares from zeal, 
 love, light, enlargement, and success in duties, by 
 which to flatter the Christian into a high opinion of 
 himself, and of his gifts and graces, in order to take 
 him off his guard, or to unclothe him of his humility. 
 When he can make a man proud, he makes him like 
 himself; and when unclean, like a beast. At other 
 times he will inject the very poison and curse of his 
 own diabolical spirit, by darting evil thoughts; despair- 
 ing or blasphemous suggestions; vile conceptions 
 of Christ, his word, his work, and all his salvation ; 
 preposterous, doubting, distracting, and presuming 
 fancies; and an almost infinite variety of abominable 
 suggestions; which, if the soul be unarmed and un- 
 guarded, will harass it to the utmost distress. He 
 hath no pity ; nor will he leave off for groans or wail- 
 ing, agonies or tears. These rather encourage him, if 
 there be nothing but these. The only thing he dreads 
 is the sword of the Spirit; and the only thing he 
 cannot pierce is the armour of God. Therefore, when 
 all this sad business is going forward, the Christian 
 should not lie crying on the ground like one bereft of 
 
197 
 
 his senses, but should call upon his Captain for the 
 armour and the sword, and with these should venture 
 on boldly, trusting to the divine strength which is 
 promised, against the foe. When he can do this, the 
 conflict will soon be over. It is yielding, hearken- 
 ing, reasoning, and parleying, which occasion all the 
 mischief. 
 
 I can talk of all this, my fellow-christian, and 1 
 know it likewise to be right and true ; but I am often 
 beset, and have often been as much to seek as thou 
 canst be, in this hard, yet glorious service. To this 
 moment I feel my own miserable weakness, when 
 left in the least degree to myself. I have had my 
 drubbings, my falls, my horrors, my conflicts, as well 
 as thou ; and I have been taught by them, though 
 with much slowness, (I speak it with shame and 
 sorrow,) to fly to the right refuge, to lay hold of the 
 right strength, to buckle on the right armour, and to 
 fall on with the right sword. When I have done 
 this with most alertness, and with the most unreserved 
 confidence in my divine Master, I have been most 
 successful, and most easily have prevailed. When 
 I have lingered, or dallied, or tampered with my foe, 
 or else thought that I could cope with him by myself, 
 because he hath appeared under a mean disguise, 
 then I have fainted and failed ; then have I sunk, 
 and been surely overthrown. My rebuffs have made 
 me a little more wary of my own heart, as well as of 
 my spiritual adversaries ; and I find it the best way 
 to begin speedily with prayer to him that heareth, 
 that I may truly be ready for whatever may come 
 upon me. 
 
198 
 
 O how hard a thing it is, and how far beyond 
 " flesh and blood," and all the powers of reason, for 
 a man truly to know the plague of his own heart, the 
 deep apostacy of his nature, and all its subtle ten- 
 dencies and operations ! 
 
 While we are in the flesh, all this must be more 
 or less our daily exercise. And the use of it is, 
 chiefly, to keep our hearts from pride and sloth, to 
 bring clown the love of self in all its desires, and the 
 love of sin in all its forms, to endear Christ to our 
 souls in all the ways of his salvation, to cause us to 
 give up ourselves to him with less reserve, to wean 
 us from earth and earthly comforts, and to fix our 
 affections more firmly on heaven. If all this ensue, 
 we shall then have happily disappointed the devil, and 
 beaten him with his own weapons ; and therefore shall 
 rejoice for every trial and conflict, which have led us 
 on toward the attainment of that blessed state of 
 mind, which is the true life and expectation of a 
 Christian in this world. O that I may remember 
 these things for myself, while I am aiming to stir up 
 the minds of others to the remembrance of them ! 
 Lord, thy strength is made perfect in weakness, and 
 thy wisdom in folly ; I call upon thee, therefore, and 
 upon thee alone, to be the Guide, the Help, the De- 
 fender, and Deliverer of my soul ! " Thou art 
 faithful that hast promised;" and here, and not on 
 my own natural reason or corrupted powers, do I rest 
 my every hope of safety and salvation. 
 
199 
 
 CHAP. XXXII. 
 
 On Adversity. 
 
 We naturally love the world, and the things that 
 are in the world ; and this love, unsubdued, is the 
 sole cause and ground of what are called mortifica- 
 tions and disappointments from the world. If the 
 love of Christ prevailed more in us, it would not be 
 in the power of outward things to give us so much 
 pain as they do ; or rather, if this love were perfect 
 in us, we should be ashamed and sorry that these 
 things should give us any pain at all. 
 
 This is the truth ; but how do we use it ? Very 
 often, in the time of trial, we make no other use than 
 to assent to it as a truth, and there leave it. Re- 
 flections of this kind are but orations to the winds, 
 unless grace shall second and enforce them. The 
 most trifling loss, as I have often observed in myself 
 and others, is sufficient to unhinge and throw us out 
 of order, if we have no stronger power than our own 
 to keep us in it. 
 
 There is not a plant upon earth, how unsightly 
 and bitter soever, but which hath an end for its be- 
 ing. God, likewise, hath not intended his providen- 
 tial works, however adverse or disagreeable to our 
 sense, but for some just purpose and design. There 
 is a needs be, if we " fall into divers temptations." 
 And, if needful, then they are right and profitable, 
 and will appear to be so at the last. 
 
200 
 
 We have many evil humours that require correc- 
 tion; and God sends adversity as a medicine for the 
 soul. When it comes with grace into the spirit of 
 a Christian, how doth it soften and blunt his rough 
 and acid dispositions, how reform and lower his swel- 
 ling and confident frames, how chasten and subdue 
 his restless and impatient tempers ; while the better 
 part, his renewed mind, gathers strength, and holi- 
 ness, and resignation, and hope ! We shall indeed 
 thank God heartily for all our adversities by-and-by ; 
 and, though they are not to be counted as any part 
 of our inheritance, we shall rejoice eternally, that they 
 were graciously made a part of the means for bring- 
 ing us to it. Lazarus himself can now rejoice over 
 all his sores. 
 
 The apostle Paul was a chosen vessel, and dearly 
 beloved of the Lord; but the Lord did not say, con- 
 cerning him, what great things he was to do or en- 
 joy, (though nobody perhaps ever did more for Christ, 
 or enjoyed more of him upon earth,) but " what great 
 things he must suffer for my name's sake." The 
 flesh shrinks at this; but grace can enable the soul 
 to count it all joy when it falls into divers tempta- 
 tions ; not for the grief that is in them, for that would 
 be unnatural, but for the peaceable fruits of right- 
 eousness which they shall produce in the end. 
 
 We must pray, then, to trust the wisdom and love 
 of God in all sorrowful dispensations, since he doth 
 not willingly or wantonly afflict his children, nor send 
 one sorrow more than what is absolutely necessary to 
 their true edification and welfare. 
 
 When we can bear all trouble as a part of the 
 
201 
 
 burden of Christ, and can obtain his assistance to 
 bear it with us, we shall find it daily grow lighter 
 and lighter, and at length press upon us only like the 
 burden of wings on a bird, enabling us to fly the 
 swifter and the higher towards heaven. 
 
 CHAP. XXXIII. 
 
 On Prosperity. 
 
 God's people are seldom trusted with much pros- 
 perity ; and, when they are, it very rarely appears for 
 their good. The things of earth and time, in afflu- 
 ence or abundance, have a fascinating power over the 
 carnal senses, entice them first into the ways of evil, 
 and then (if grace prevent not) intoxicate them with 
 it. How many spiritual sots are there in the world, 
 who, though averse to gross intemperance, are reel- 
 ing instead of running in the path of duty; their heads 
 being turned with the fumes of this earth, and their 
 hearts " waxed gross" through the " abundance of 
 her delicacies !" And it is one dreadful proof of the 
 strength of this intoxication upon them, when they 
 hate to be told of it, and feel angry, not at themselves, 
 but at the friendly and faithful informer. 
 
 The gaiety, parade, lightness, and lofty airs of 
 many religious professors, too well show, what a dan- 
 gerous thing it is to possess much of this world, and 
 how easily our hearts may be made drunk, and then 
 drowned in sensuality, if not in perdition. If Christ 
 i 3 
 
202 
 
 and his apostles were now upon earth, in their plain 
 and lowly form, it is much to be feared that they 
 would be thought hardly good company enough for 
 many of the present race of genteel and modish pro- 
 fessors of religion. 
 
 It is an excellent prayer, which Christians in 
 worldly prosperity cannot remember too often, " In 
 all time of our wealth, good Lord, deliver us !" We 
 want his help then, more if possible than in adversity ; 
 lest " the lust of other things, entering in, should 
 choke the word, and it become unfruitful." We 
 have weak heads and a disordered appetite, which 
 are soon overcharged with a full cup of temporal 
 prosperity. " They were filled," says the Lord, 
 speaking by the prophet to the Jews, " they were 
 filled, and their heart was exalted : therefore have 
 they forgotten me." 
 
 It was the good advice of a wise man : " Seek not 
 
 o 
 
 proud riches, but such as thou mayest get justly, use 
 soberly, distribute cheerfully, and leave contentedly." 
 There is no doubt but that Christians, with worldly 
 riches, may do abundance of worldly good to others ; 
 and it is one proof, that God is in them of a truth 
 when they do so ; yet there is very great reason to 
 pray, that, while they are God's stewards to feed 
 other people, they may be careful not to be starved 
 themselves, and that no pride may arise in their hearts 
 through these outward displays of zeal for the Lord 
 of hosts. These may seem great things to men ; 
 but, if we remember the widow and her two mites, 
 we may understand that something else is greater 
 before God, than any administration only of carnal 
 and temporal things. 
 
203 
 
 Our hearts need no gross damps of this world to 
 cool them. On the contrary, God by troubles fre- 
 quenty stirs up his own grace and life in them, as 
 we stir our fires, that they may kindle more freely, 
 shine more brightly, and glow more strongly, for our 
 comfort. Whatever draws us nearest to God, can- 
 not be real adversity. Whatever entices us from 
 him, deserves not the name of prosperity. 
 
 CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 Luxury indecent for Christians. 
 
 Luxury is to pride, what the body is to the soul. 
 It gives substance to that depraved temper, which 
 Satan occasioned to man, and which reigns in him- 
 self with the most malignant subtlety, ruling also, 
 where it is permitted, the faculties of creatures and 
 the grossness of matter. It first reduced him from 
 angel to devil ; and it hath degraded mankind almost 
 to both devil and beast. 
 
 A very great part of the world's pursuit is indul- 
 gence to the flesh, by procuring not the mere neces- 
 saries, (for these are in a small compass,) but the 
 pomps, the shows, the imaginary wants, or the real 
 luxuries, of this present life. If they have much 
 goods laid up for many years, no higher thought re- 
 mains, but to take their ease, to eat, to drink, and 
 be merry. They have strange and wretched notions 
 of spiritual and eternal enjoyments : heaven and hea- 
 
204 
 
 venly things are necessarily in their very nature too 
 refined for those whose heart is ever in the dirt, and 
 whose whole life and hope are supported by what 
 lives and grows upon it. Like a man whom I re- 
 member to have seen, they have no " desire to sit 
 singing Hallelujah upon a bare cloud (as he expressed 
 it) all the day long, without any thing to eat or to 
 drink." This was his idea of heaven : and have 
 those people any better or more solid thoughts of its 
 glories, who prefer to them (as the men of this world 
 uniformly do) the poor vile trash and sordid attain- 
 ment of the earth ? Alas ! so it is ; no natural man 
 hath any true regard for God or his soul, but only 
 for his carcass and the world. 
 
 The primitive Christians were distinguished as 
 well for the plainness and simplicity of their manners, 
 as for an exact frugality in all their affairs. They 
 thought, and with great truth, that to do otherwise 
 would be both unseemly for their profession, and in- 
 jurious to the poor. People who want all for them- 
 selves, as the luxurious ever must, (except in some 
 rare cases,) can have but little, if any thing, " to 
 give to him that needeth ;" and, what is worse, a 
 luxurious pampered person hath usually no heart to 
 give at all, but hath lost his bowels of compassion, 
 through the excess and voluptuousness reigning within 
 him. Hence it is, that the very rich and very great 
 are too commonly hard-hearted ; while, in the middle 
 ranks of life, both sympathy and benevolence are fre- 
 quently found to lighten the load of woe. These, 
 it is true, may be all mere nature; but they are, how- 
 ever, not the least precious remains of original beauty 
 amon<j its ruins. 
 
205 
 
 To glut the stomach, is to starve the mind; vainly 
 to dress up the body, is to strip the soul ; to appear 
 great before men, is really to be little in the eyes of 
 God; to be anxious for this world alone, is to lose 
 the true enjoyment both of it and a better. Yet 
 all these compose the prime wisdom of worldly men. 
 But should such be the object, the pursuit, the prac- 
 tice of a Christian ? Can the pilgrim, or traveller, 
 the stranger and sojourner upon earth, who talks of 
 " seeking a better country and a heavenly," make 
 it his business or delight to indulge his flesh and 
 carnal affections in modes like these ? It seems, in- 
 deed, a sort of burlesque upon godliness, that a crea- 
 ture, proud, pampered, glutted, adorned, and wallow- 
 ing in lazy and luxurious life, should solemnly profess 
 meekness and lowliness of mind, abstraction from a 
 sinful world, deadness to earthly vanity, humble ex- 
 pectations of heaven, and a life of faith and commun- 
 ion with God till heaven be attained. — I am not a 
 monk, nor monkishly inclined ; but surely the mo- 
 dern luxury among many professors is neither the 
 characteristic nor ornament of Christian life, and 
 cannot, from its own nature, be the means appointed 
 either to win or to wean men from mammon to God. 
 It is indeed with pain and reluctance that this sub- 
 ject of pride, laziness, and luxury, which usually go 
 together, is here mentioned, and especially that there 
 is so much occasion for mentioning it, in our day and 
 in our land. To use, and liberally to use, God's 
 temporal mercies with cheerful thankfulness, is one 
 thing: but to " nourish our carnal hearts as in a day 
 of slaughter," to live only for ourselves, and to be 
 
206 
 
 filled with a fulness of earth instead of God, is quite 
 another. The apostle speaks of " using the world, 
 and not abusing it," plainly intimating the distinction 
 and the difficulty. For this reason most probably it 
 is, that the Lord keeps the bulk of his people out of 
 worldly snares by poverty and trouble, for which they 
 will see more cause to thank him hereafter, than the 
 wealthy and the great for all their riches. When 
 the world lies heavy and close upon the heart, O 
 with what a sluggish slowness doth it rise up towards 
 heaven ! 
 
 Lord, above all thy gifts, give me thyself. I 
 may be happy without the creatures, but I must be 
 wretched for ever without thee. Against all my car- 
 nal affections and desires, above all my apprehensions 
 and views, beyond all my hopes and expectations, O 
 do thou lead me through time to eternity, and be my 
 life, my love, my light, my Lord, and my all in all ! 
 
 CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 There are many first that shall be last. 
 
 Our opinion of persons and things is usually 
 taken from outward forms and appearances ; but God 
 looketh on the heart and spirit, which are the true 
 and only substantial essence or being. 
 
 What a wonderful revolution shall the day of God 
 make upon the earth ! Many high and towering 
 professors, extolled by others, and prized by them- 
 
207 
 
 selves, shall be glad to take even the meanest and 
 the lowest rooms, deeply thankful not to be quite 
 thrust out of the kingdom; while some poor dejected 
 and despised souls, who passed their days almost un- 
 knowing and unknown with respect to this world, 
 shall shine forth as the stars in the firmament of hea- 
 ven, to the surprise and astonishment of every eye. 
 
 We greatly mistake, in general, with respect to 
 spiritual glory. It doth not consist in the splendour 
 of gifts and talents, or any bodily exercise (as the 
 apostle calls it) of the animal frame, but in the less 
 glaring, though far more solid, ornament of a meek 
 and quiet spirit ; not in the attraction or admiration 
 of men, but in the love and enjoyment of God ; not 
 in the subtle and lofty aspirings even of the inward 
 man, but in self-abasement, simplicity, humbleness, 
 and sincerity of mind, resignation of soul to God, 
 victory over self, and every thing else that belongs 
 to true lowliness and profound humiliation. This 
 is real and living glory; but not the glory of the 
 world or of the flesh, for these neither understand 
 nor desire it. Alas ! how little is it considered, that 
 an outward religious act and religion itself are two 
 things very distinct and very separable ! Scribes, 
 Pharisees, and hypocrites, have performed the one 
 with the greatest care and exactness; but all the 
 while were further from the kingdom of God than 
 even publicans and harlots : the other, consisting in 
 divine life and inward union of the soul with Christ, 
 is the portion and experience of none but the children 
 of God. 
 
 We may be proud of pretended virtues ; and, per- 
 
208 
 
 haps, it is possible to be proud even of grace itself, 
 opposite as it is to that fallen principle of corrupted 
 nature ; but it is not so possible to think nothing of 
 ourselves, and to be contented with the slight and 
 contempt of others ; to prefer all God's children to 
 ourselves, and to place our seat far below theirs ; to 
 love our meekest and our humblest thoughts, and to 
 hate bitterly the emotions of pride, and the urgings 
 of anger and arrogance. Yet all this is the true and 
 solid dignity of a Christian soul, and brings it near- 
 est to the likeness of Christ, if not nearest to his 
 throne. 
 
 O Lord, help me to understand myself. May I 
 wish to see, not how great and good, (as flesh would 
 have it,) but how mean and vile I am. Preserve 
 me from high thoughts of myself; for these become 
 not a sinful dying worm, who lives every moment 
 upon a breath of air ; nor yet do they become a re- 
 deemed sinner, whose only plea must be mercy, who 
 hath nothing of his own but sin, and who by grace 
 alone can be saved, according to thy gift, O Lord, 
 jny God ! 
 
 CHAP. XXXVI. 
 
 On Talents. 
 
 It is the sentence of an apostle, uttering the mind 
 of the Holy Ghost, that though he himself " should 
 speak with the tongues of men and of angels," that 
 
209 
 
 is, with the highest degree of the most energetic or 
 zealous eloquence, " and had not charity," or the 
 love of God in his heart, he " should become as 
 sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." He goes 
 farther : " Though I," says he, " have the gift of 
 prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all know- 
 ledge ; and though I have all faith, so that I could 
 remove mountains, and have not charity, I am no- 
 thing." He doth not stop here : " Though I be- 
 stow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I 
 give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it 
 profiteth me nothing." Awful words ! The pos- 
 sibility of such a case (and surely the apostle had 
 not been led to state it, if it were not possible) should 
 alarm the mind of every one who professeth to be- 
 lieve and follow the gospel of Christ. 
 
 It is obvious, at first view, that grace and gifts 
 are two things, and that their separate effects or 
 consequences, to the possessors of either, may be 
 different also. 
 
 Grace, or charity, or love, which have nearly the 
 same sense when applied to the life of God in the 
 soul of man, is the special influence of the Holy Spi- 
 rit dwelling in the heart. This, coming from God, 
 unites man in love to God through Christ, and shows 
 itself in the various ways of patience, resignation, 
 self-denial, abstraction from envy and other malig- 
 nant passions, with all those other blessed fruits, 
 which the apostle beautifully describes as growing 
 out of it, and which cannot truly grow out of any 
 other principle. 
 
 But eloquence, prophecy, understanding of mys- 
 
no 
 
 teries, attainment of theoretic knowledge, and even 
 that sort of faith itself which rests on rational evi- 
 dence only, the working miracles, as well as almsgiv- 
 ing and the surrender of life, may all be possessed 
 without grace, and may answer ends too that are not 
 gracious. They may be gifts indeed from God; 
 and so is food or health ; but they are often gifts to 
 the mere natural man, and may be held, like all other 
 natural faculties, either with or without any thing 
 better. 
 
 A man may understand and reason upon the terms 
 grace, justification, regeneration, and other holy and 
 spiritual principles, so far as they can be the objects 
 of human apprehension, and yet have no share in 
 the truths implied by them, and consequently be 
 ruined at the last. 
 
 Ahithophel was eloquent and wise, almost as the 
 oracle of God: 2 Sam. xvi. 23. Saul, as well as 
 Balaam, was among the prophets : 1 Sam. xix. 24. 
 Solomon understood all mysteries and knowledge, 
 but found them vain and insufficient to keep him 
 from falling. Judas preached, and wrought mira- 
 cles ; but at the same time had a devil : Luke ix. 1, 2. 
 The Pharisees gave great alms ; but were a genera- 
 tion of vipers. Even heathens themselves, and 
 amongst them poor Indian women too, have surren- 
 dered up their bodies to torture and to death ; but 
 none of them, certainly, either with any sense of the 
 love of God, or for his glory. The apostle's argu- 
 ment is, that these outward gifts alone cannot pos- 
 sibly profit to eternity, because they cease or vanish 
 in time : even the believer's holy knowledge, as it is 
 
211 
 
 possessed here, shall be done away, because it is par- 
 tial, and he sees through the medium of corruptible 
 sense, as through a glass darkly or enigmatically; 
 which will not be the case in the soul's future perfect 
 and pure vision of God ; but charity, or the divine 
 love, being from the divine essence, and essential 
 also to the very being of a true Christian, can never 
 fail, nor cease, nor vanish away. 
 
 All this proves the assertion, that grace and gifts 
 are two separable things, even in the profession of 
 the truest religion. Grace is peculiar to the chil- 
 dren of God ; gifts may be possessed by men, as 
 such, whether heathen or Christian. The former is 
 essential to the divine life ; the latter, at best, only 
 ornamental or subordinate. A man may go to hea- 
 ven without gifts ; but, if he had all the fine parts 
 and all the advantages of religious life and profession 
 in the world, without grace, they would in the end 
 profit him nothing. Many, it is to be feared, have 
 written and spoken well concerning salvation, who 
 never inwardly experienced or enjoyed it. They 
 knew the theory, but not the thing. 
 
 By their fruits, such ever were, and ever will be, 
 known. They have called Christ, " Lord, Lord ;" 
 and this was easy enough : but to do the things which 
 he said, to take up his cross, and to follow him truly 
 in the regeneration ; this was above flesh and blood, 
 and impossible to be done by those who have nothing 
 else. This observation applies to professors at large : 
 but the Redeemer himself carries it farther to per- 
 sons in a higher class : " Many, many will say to me 
 in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied," 
 
212 
 
 or preached, " in thy name ? and in thy name have 
 cast out devils," (from those who were under their 
 dominion) ? " and in thy name done many wonderful 
 works?" (perhaps made the means of converting souls, 
 as Judas probably was :) " And then will I profess 
 unto them, I never knew you : depart from me, ye 
 that work iniquity." Thus it appears, the devils 
 may be subject to a man through Christ ; and yet 
 (what is of infinitely more consequence to himself) 
 his name may not be written in heaven. 
 
 Where grace and talents are indeed united, they 
 capacitate the possessor not only to be useful, but to 
 shine : and to shine thus, (like a diamond upon sable,) 
 reflecting purely the Redeemer's glory, and foiled 
 (as it were) with meekness and humility, is a bless- 
 ing to be wished for on account of others, rather than 
 for any man's own concern, and therefore not to be 
 envied. He that envies another's abilities, forgets 
 the Giver, and hath not learned the proper use of 
 any, not even of his own. Great faculties require 
 proportionally the greater grace to manage them ; or 
 the corruption of the heart will pervert them to pri- 
 vate ends, as it hath but too evidently done in a 
 thousand cases. To colour the deception, there may 
 be a show of zeal and abundance of activity with these 
 talents, which may seem well laid out, and be very 
 successful too among men, in the most serious and 
 divine concerns ; and yet, after all, self, that secret 
 and subtle self, may be the main-spring, or final ob- 
 ject, of the whole. " Come, see my zeal for the 
 Lord," said Jehu ; while his great purpose was 
 earthly splendour and dominion for himself. Herod 
 
213 
 
 preserved John, (as the word means,) " and did many 
 things" by his suggestion, " and heard him gladly;" 
 but, through pride and lust, he murdered him at the 
 last. And so Judas (as was mentioned before) 
 prayed and preached, and undoubtedly wrought 
 miracles, as fairly and clearly as the other apostles; 
 or certainly he must have been suspected by them 
 for the traitor at the Lord's supper, without any 
 further occasion of troubling Christ with their re- 
 peated question, " Is it I ? Is it I ?" Had he been 
 noticed for the least outward deficiency among those, 
 " to whom even the devils were obedient through the 
 name of Jesus," John could have wanted no other 
 sign : John xiii. 21 — 26. An old writer gives an- 
 other remarkable instance : — An eloquent and dis- 
 tinguished orator maintained, in a set discourse, the 
 truth of the Christian religion, with so much force 
 and clearness, as to excite the admiration and aston- 
 ishment of all that heard him. His friends warmly 
 congratulated him on his success. He was alive to 
 their praise ; it was the very thing that he wanted. 
 But to secure the honour (as he thought) more 
 entirely to himself, he vaunted, that, in taking the 
 other side of the argument, he could as easily pull 
 down all he had raised, and establish the contrary 
 upon its ruins. Divine justice, we are told, was not 
 slow to vindicate the divine glory; for he, who, not- 
 withstanding his great abilities, was before a spiritual 
 fool, became soon afterwards a natural driveller and 
 an incurable idiot. His eminent powers, which at 
 first seemed to be in employment for God, turned 
 out, upon trial, to be devoted to himself and his own 
 
214 
 
 vain glory. These and such like things should ever 
 occasion " great searching of heart." 
 
 Help me, O my God, to search mine ! For this 
 end, do thou thyself " examine me, and prove me : 
 try my reins and my heart." Leave no corner un- 
 explored; but discover the whole, as it is, to the eye 
 of my mind ; let, O let me never be deceived about 
 myself, nor fatally be a stranger to myself, or to the 
 principles of action and affection within me ! Let 
 these be all simple, all pure ; give me the single eye, 
 and the single heart, that no double views or inten- 
 tions, no corrupt motives or desires, nothing, no, no- 
 thing but what proceedeth from thee, and leadeth to 
 thee again, may direct and animate my soul. Let 
 me cautiously regard all my faculties, and jealously 
 watch over the application of all my powers, that 
 every thing in me may proceed in the exactest con- 
 formity to thy will and word. It is my wish indeed, 
 and this thou knowest, to act much for thee, but in 
 no case and at no time without thee ; and when thou 
 callest me not to action, but to suffering and waiting, 
 which is yet more difficult to man, O help me, like 
 Abraham and Moses, to stand in patient submission 
 as they stood, though my trial be drawn out, like 
 theirs, through a dull and unpromising length of 
 years. Be thou with me, and all shall be well, 
 whether I bear or do. If I am to be silent or pas- 
 sive, support me, for I cannot remain thus for myself: 
 if I am called to act, " work in me to will and to do 
 of thy good pleasure ;" for all thy truth, and my own 
 experience prove, that, in the business of spiritual 
 life especially, " without thee I can do nothing." 
 
215 
 
 CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 It is through Grace that all Ordinances are rightly 
 used and become beneficial. 
 
 As there is a talent of speaking with grace the 
 things that are true and profitable, so there is a talent 
 of hearing with grace, that those things may be re- 
 ceived with edification. We may too often see and 
 bewail a customary slight mode of hearing, which, 
 instead of enlivening, deadens ; instead of warming, 
 fixes the cold ; instead of promoting the life of God 
 within, only confirms the life of the flesh throughout. 
 This is sharply reprehended in Ezek. xxxiii. 30 — 32. 
 
 Some are for hearing a variety of preachers, others 
 a multitude of sermons ; not for profit, but for plea- 
 sure ; not to digest and turn the discourses into spi- 
 ritual nourishment, but to satisfy the hurry and bustle 
 of nature, which doth not love patient reflection, nor 
 the meditating labour of the soul. To hear only 
 and commend this, and that, and the other preacher, 
 however excellent and gracious, is poor employment 
 indeed, which requires very little sense, and less 
 grace, to perform. To set up men and forget God, 
 to be extolling one man above another, and to be 
 ready to quarrel and abuse for the sake of one poor 
 worm against another, is all of it nothing more than 
 the vileness of the carnal nature perversely crept into 
 religious profession, and all of it equally wretched, 
 impertinent, and vain. If this were the whole that 
 
216 
 
 is to be found in religion, it would not be a bad wisb, 
 that one's " life might rather be spent with philoso- 
 phers." 
 
 To hear for amusement or criticism, to be delighted 
 with flowery language, to be charmed with action, 
 person, manner, and voice, may be well enough in 
 the theatre or senate; but to attend upon God, to 
 hear his word as for one's life, to be filled with the 
 solid importance of divine things, and to carry them 
 home into the heart for comfort and strength in the 
 experience ; this is quite another kind of business, 
 which doth not so much engage the carnal mind or 
 car, as employ the most fervent exertions and the 
 holiest affections of the soul. The one is rank 
 abuse of a sacred institution, and perverted to lull 
 the soul to sleep in carnal security, under the notion 
 of a religious engagement ; the other is finding, in 
 the true and gracious use of the means, the advantage 
 which the Lord intended by them. 
 
 It is better likewise to hear one sermon, and then 
 to recollect it, to feed and ponder upon it, and to 
 turn the matter of it into prayer, than to be present 
 at four, five, or six in a day, as some have been, 
 and not be able at last to give a tolerable account of 
 any one of them. The divine life of a Christian 
 doth not consist in mere hearing, any more than his 
 natural life in always eating ; but in digesting and in 
 bringing what he hears, as so much nourishment, 
 iuto the very frame and strength of his soul. 
 
 Faith must be mixed with this and with all ordi- 
 nances and sacraments, otherwise the outward man 
 alone acts, while the inner man is ^sleep or dead ; 
 
217 
 
 and so that " which should have been for welfare 
 only, becomes an occasion of falling." 
 
 " How have I heard ? not how much ?" is the best 
 inquiry. Our Lord directs us to consider it well, 
 where he says, " Take heed how ye hear." And if 
 we reflect, that God's word is a " savour of life unto 
 life, or of death unto death," in them that do hear 
 it, surely in so solemn an affair we ought to pray 
 before we hear, to watch unto prayer in hearing, and 
 to mix faith and prayer with what we have heard, 
 that it may turn to our good, and not to our sorrow. 
 2 Cor. ii. 15, 16. 
 
 CHAP. XXXVIII. 
 
 On the ■profitable Hearing of the Word. 
 
 This subject is of so much importance, as to 
 demand some farther reflections. It is a trite ob- 
 servation, that we have two ears, and but one tongue. 
 The natural inference, however, becomes the more 
 important, when authorized by the Holy Ghost : 
 " Let every man be swift to hear, and slow to speak." 
 
 But though swiftness of hearing be right, it is 
 only so upon just principles, and for a proper end. 
 A person may be swift to hear evils, through the 
 corruption of nature, for no other purpose than to 
 practise it. In such a case, slowness, or deafness 
 itself, is comparatively a blessing. 
 
 It appears then, that there are two sorts of hear- 
 K 9 
 
218 
 
 ing, or faculties, the spiritual and the carnal, the 
 right and the wrong. The one formed and em- 
 powered hy grace ; the other left, as it came into the 
 world, under the perverseness and depravity of nature. 
 We will consider both of these as briefly as possible. 
 
 When man fell from God, he not only lost the 
 right use of the natural faculties, which consisted in 
 raising spiritual and divine ideas from the outward 
 objects; but the faculties themselves were diminished, 
 and, instead of serving the Creator, and showing 
 forth his glory in the knowledge and happiness of a 
 perfect creature, were corrupted to obey a fallen spirit 
 in every ministration of sin, whether in filthiness, 
 baseness, pride, or malignity. The ear, amongst 
 these, became the organ of a depraved understanding, 
 and is often put, by a figure, for the depraved un- 
 derstanding itself. And because men in their state 
 of nature are so besotted and blinded by sin, as to 
 have no understanding (or what is worse than none) 
 in spiritual things, they are said to have no ears in 
 those things. On the other hand, our Lord fre- 
 quently addresses himself to those " who have ears 
 to hear ;" manifestly implying, that the faithful only 
 can hear to purpose, and that all others are, in a 
 certain sense, without ears ; that is, incapable of un- 
 derstanding what they outwardly do hear. This 
 corrupted faculty cannot therefore receive the truth ; 
 but, through gross misapprehension, will commonly 
 pervert it, turning good into bad, and the bad into 
 worse and worse. 
 
 The true faculty is indeed a new creation, and 
 consequently the operation and gift of God. The 
 
219 
 
 Lord makes " the hearing ear and the seeing eye," 
 said the wise man ; or, as Elihu expresses it to the 
 same purpose, " God openeth the ears of men, and 
 sealeth their instruction." In vain might men speak, 
 as Ezekiel would have spoken to that emblem of 
 sinners spiritually dead, " the dry bones," unless the 
 Lord of power vouchsafe to bless, and to impart the 
 truth and strength of a right understanding to the 
 mind. 
 
 But where this new faculty is given, the believer 
 should remember, with anxious concern, that even 
 there also remaineth the old. They both exist at 
 once in the same person, and often produce, if care 
 be not taken, and a better care than his own, a sort 
 of neutral exercise of faculties, employing them upon 
 the very best things to no purpose at all, and some- 
 times to purposes which, it might be thought, no 
 gracious person could allow or endure. The fact is, 
 professors hear the truth too much in their old man; 
 they do not mix faith with what they hear; and so 
 they become triflers in divine things, and grow in- 
 sipid and indifferent to them. Their new man is 
 not renewed day by day, through holy meditation 
 and prayer, and therefore seems to grow weaker; 
 while their old man gathers strength and inclination 
 for the things of the flesh and the world. They do 
 not, as the martyr of old said, " join the ears of their 
 head and of their heart together." 
 
 Hence, in Christian profession, we have such just 
 
 complaint of " heavy ears." Persons shall have 
 
 been long under the word, and yet shall have profited 
 
 so little for the time, that they appear like infants 
 
 k 2 
 
220 
 
 when they ought to be full grown; or dwarfs, and 
 misshapen dwarfs too, at the age of maturity. This 
 dulness of hearing often makes it needful that such 
 should be " taught again the first principles of the 
 oracles of God;" because, as the apostle says, " be- 
 ing babes, they have no experience in the word of 
 righteousness." What a strange sight is this ! A 
 man in leading-strings ; a person in years wailing for 
 the breast ! And yet meat, and especially " strong 
 meat," is not good for him; he cannot digest it. He 
 is capable of taking nothing but milk; and it is well, 
 if the only " pure milk of the word" will satisfy him. 
 There is also, in Christian profession, what the 
 Scripture calls " an uncircumcised ear." A man 
 with an uncircumcised ear is unsubdued by what he 
 hears, so that his " thoughts are not brought into 
 captivity," nor into sweet subjection, unto Christ. 
 He hears, therefore, by his own powers. His soul 
 consequently is not bent into meekness under the 
 word ; but coming to it as a critic or a judge, with a 
 high look and a lofty heart, he squares all things by 
 his own rule and reason, and determines all by his 
 own measure and understanding. When the truth 
 is made particular to him, he acts, like some high 
 professors of old, and like all who are "uncircumcised 
 in heart and ears," (Acts vii. 51.) — he " resists the 
 Holy Ghost." Such a one " receiveth not correc- 
 tion ; truth is perished " to him, " and cut off from 
 his mouth." He is therefore not the better for what 
 he hears, but the worse, converting the wholesome 
 nourishment, through his cachectic, or bad habit, into 
 poison or disease. In process of time, he grows both 
 
221 
 
 careless and hardened under the word; and, being 
 now sermon-proof, receives no more real impression 
 from the gospel than the flinty rock from a shower 
 of rain. Alas ! alas \ how often may one bewail these 
 uncircumcised ears ! 
 
 The apostle reminds us also of " itching ears," 
 which are not so desirous of their own proper exer- 
 cise of receiving the truth, as of being tickled and 
 amused. A light thing, a mere feather, will answer 
 this purpose better than that two-edged sword, which 
 cuts beneath the skin, and penetrates to the very 
 " thoughts and intents of the heart." The itching 
 ear takes a wonderful pleasure in quaint or odd ex- 
 pressions, or in flowing, polished, or rhetorical phrases 
 and language. To it there are no such charms as 
 the charms of manner and words ; a rich and glowing 
 diction, a correct and masterly style, the grace of 
 delivery, the force of reason, and the prettiness of 
 sublimity of thought. These are excellencies indis- 
 pensable and invaluable to the curious ear. A good 
 story, especially if there be any wit in it, will tickle it 
 almost to an ecstacy. Sometimes mere rodomontade 
 will serve the end, which is, to divert and be diverted. 
 A pathetic or melancholy discourse will also tickle 
 well an itching ear, though in a different way ; for if 
 the animal passions be moved, if the old Adam be 
 wrought upon, if the common feelings of the carnal 
 nature be excited with any degree of emotion, these 
 will gratify and please that carnal nature, like the 
 hearing of tragedies and oratorios, even to rapture 
 and excess, so as almost to be mistaken for religion 
 and grace. In all this there may not be one particle 
 
of that life of the new man, " which is renewed after 
 the image of him that created him." I do not mean 
 that a Christian is to be divested of the common 
 feelings of humanity, but that he is not to mistake 
 these for the actings of grace in the things of God, 
 nor from the word of God to seek for so low an ob- 
 ject as the gratification of these. He is not to be 
 entertained, but edified ; not to be amused, but cor- 
 rected ; not to be pleased only, but profited ; not to 
 crave indulgence to the " desires of the flesh and of 
 the mind," for this every worldling craves; but 
 through grace to subdue his evil propensities and 
 affections, and to confine nature within its bounds, 
 that the life of Christ may be made manifest, and 
 that the fruits of faith may abound to the divine 
 glory. O how much more wise and happy is this 
 for the soul, than the mean and trifling enjoyment 
 that can be procured for itching ears ! 
 
 There is also, to mention no more, what a gra- 
 cious and dear friend of mine has well styled, that 
 monster in profession, who is all ear. No faculty, 
 in religious matters, but this one : no head to appre- 
 hend, no heart to love and experience, no hands to 
 act for Christ, no feet to walk in the obedience of 
 God; but all — all ear. A new preacher, a fine 
 preacher, a long sermon, sermon after sermon, dis- 
 courses about the talents of preachers and the beau- 
 ties of sermons, and sometimes matter not quite so 
 good as these, are objects of supreme delight for too 
 many, who rather wish to hear about Christ than to 
 live upon him, and to have a good seat under the 
 sound of the gospel than to be enjoying the power 
 
223 
 
 of it. O what a poor sort of professing life is this ! 
 to mistake air for food, and mere hearing for god- 
 liness ! Alas ! what will this avail the soul, when it 
 shall need strength and courage to resist the powers 
 of darkness and to enter the gloomy valley of the 
 dead ! 
 
 The true servants of God have, in a certain sub- 
 ordinate sense, " their ears opened, or pierced," ac- 
 cording to the meaning of the rite in the law ; and 
 thus they are made " his own for ever." They 
 come willingly, in the day of his power, to the door 
 of his house, even to Christ the only door of the 
 " true tabernacle, which God hath pitched, and not 
 man ;" and there each of them joyfully declares, " I 
 would not, and in thy strength I will not, go away, 
 O Lord, from thee, because I love thee, and I love 
 thine house, and because it is good for me to be 
 with thee." By this spiritual operation they are 
 made alive to God, and are enabled spiritually to 
 hear his word, and to have it " written in their in- 
 ward parts," and thus to serve and live for God in 
 Christ with life eternal. They cannot endure an- 
 other service; and any voice but the voice of their 
 Master, they will neither delight in nor obey. As 
 dutiful servants, and adopted children, they listen to 
 his holy word, follow his heavenly will, seek not 
 their own but his honour and glory, and count no- 
 thing of so much value beneath the sun as to finish 
 their course with joy. O my soul, mayest thou be 
 found with these, when the Lord shall " make up 
 his jewels, and shall spare them as a man spareth his 
 own son that serveth him !" Thou shalt then enter 
 
221. 
 
 into his house indeed, and dwell with him for evet 
 and ever. 
 
 Another type in the law affords us a farther idea 
 on this interesting subject. The sanctifying oil was 
 not only to be put upon the right hand, the right 
 foot, and the right ear of the leper, but upon the ex- 
 tremities, the thumb, the great toe, the tip, of those 
 right members ; in order to show, that, in our re- 
 newing by the Holy Spirit, we must expect all true 
 strength, even the least and to the utmost, all our 
 right obedience, and all our hearing to profit, from 
 that unction of the Holy One. This anointing, 
 which is received of Christ, even " the Spirit of 
 truth, whom the world cannot receive, abideth in " 
 the real Christian, and by this, in fact, he becomes 
 a Christian, that is, an anointed person : and the 
 same anointing teacheth him " of all things, and is 
 true, and not a lie." Thus he hears, and hears 
 aright. He hears inwardly, and with life ; and, by 
 grace in his hearing, increases life. Sounds, mere 
 sounds, are nothing, and words alone nothing ; but 
 the word and truth of Christ, spiritually received and 
 experimentally digested, are, in his eye, and heart, 
 and ear, the all in all of every ordinance and pro- 
 clamation of the gospel. 
 
 I would come into the power of these things, O 
 my Lord, more and more ; and I lament with deep 
 compunction that my progression is so small, my 
 true hearing so dull, my affections so cold, my faith 
 so weak, my hope so drooping, and my whole man 
 so often disordered and defiled by infirmity. O how 
 great and difficult a thing is it to be a Christian !— 
 
22.5 
 
 to live, and hope, and walk, truly by the faith of 
 thee the Son of God ! Do thou, who art the High 
 Priest of my profession, circumcise and " pierce my 
 ear," that I may be made affectionately thine own 
 for ever : anoint it also with thine holy oil, that I 
 may receive rightly and understand truly the words 
 of eternal life, the rich and the profound mysteries 
 of thy heavenly kingdom. So shall I hear, and 
 live, and learn, and love, till I see thee in thy glory ; 
 and then, stripped of all my own imperfection and 
 frailty, but clothed upon with thy righteousness and 
 salvation, I shall magnify thine holy name amongst 
 thy redeemed, in the great, the universal, the ever- 
 lasting Hallelujah. 
 
 CHAP. XXXIX. 
 
 Upon Declensions from God. 
 
 Alas ! how prone I am to fall into sin, and to 
 leave the fountain of living waters ! My infirmities 
 often prevail against me, and, contrary to the better 
 will of my soul, drag me into the snares and bondage 
 of corruption. 
 
 I have sinned : what shall I say unto thee, O 
 thou Preserver of men ! If thou leave me to my- 
 self, if thou recover me not, I am gone for ever. 
 " O wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me 
 from the body of this death ?" 
 
 Thus I mourn and am vexed, when my corrup- 
 k 3 
 
226 
 
 tions are ready to overpower me. I should be lost, 
 but for thy merciful aid ; I must perish entirely, if 
 the blood and righteousness of my dear Redeemer 
 were not again and again applied to save and com- 
 fort me. 
 
 O what a vile and miserable body do I bear about 
 with me ! It is the very load, and plague, and prison 
 of my soul. And yet how foolishly do I love it, and 
 care for it ! and how much more time do I spend in 
 nourishing this evil flesh than in seeking the peace 
 of God, or the advancement and prosperity of my 
 immortal part ! I am ashamed, as a Christian, that 
 I am not more ashamed of these things. 
 
 CHAP. XL. 
 
 On Sobriety of Spirit. 
 
 A Christian should desire, as a great privilege, 
 the constant sobriety and calm recollection of his 
 mind. Worldly things often flutter the animal spi- 
 rits ; and the disorder of these will too frequently 
 throw the soul into confusion : so that it is liable to 
 be carried away into what it condemns, through a 
 sudden impression on its affections ; or to be turned 
 aside from what it approves, by the vehement onset 
 of its passions. This want of inward sobriety is one 
 great cause of all the irregularities which believers 
 feel and bemoan in their passage to heaven. 
 
 " Be sober, be vigilant," is a most necessary admo- 
 
227 
 
 nition to us, while we are in this unstable flesh, and 
 within reach of such an adversary as the devil. If 
 we are not abstracted, in due measure, from the crazy 
 and drunken spirit of this world, to which we are na- 
 turally inclined, and from which grace only can de- 
 liver us at all, we shall be distracted with a thousand 
 foolish and useless things, be exposed to numberless 
 dangers and snares, be harassed with doubts and dis- 
 orders, and often in our giddiness shall forget where 
 we are, whither we are going, and what must shortly 
 pass upon us. O this golden, glittering, dazzling 
 cup of the mystic Babylon, this evil world ! How 
 often is it in her hand, held out towards us ! How 
 ready are we to take and to drink of it ! But how 
 full is it of the abominations and filthiness of her spi- 
 ritual fornication and departure from God ! 
 
 How difficult, duly considered, is the Christian's 
 passage through life ! how marvellous his safe arrival 
 in heaven ! It appears, indeed, to be nothing less 
 than one of the greatest continued wonders of al- 
 mighty goodness and power. 
 
 If a man were commanded to put to sea by him- 
 self in a small open boat, without any sustenance but 
 what might fall from the skies, and with no directions 
 but a chart and a compass, and thus to pass over a 
 wide and tempestuous ocean; some faint picture might 
 be formed of the Christian's voyage to heaven. He 
 too, in a feeble bark, has no chart but the word of 
 God, no compass but the Spirit of God, no provi- 
 sions but the daily grace of God in Christ, no safety 
 from the raging waves of the world, or the roaring 
 winds of the evil spirit, but the power of God, no 
 
228 
 
 ability to keep himself for one moment from sinking 
 but through the faith which God giveth, and no hope 
 of getting safe to the heavenly shore but from the 
 truth of God in Christ Jesus. Indeed, and indeed, 
 when a Christian considers all these perils on the one 
 hand, and his own weakness on the other, it seems 
 an act of the most astonishing love and omnipotence, 
 that he should ever reach the kingdom of heaven. 
 He feels it to be mercy and faithfulness, and rich 
 bounty, and unspeakable kindness altogether, from 
 beginning to end, and is at times lost in wonder, love, 
 gratitude, and praise, for so great, so unmerited, so 
 eternal a salvation. 
 
 Seeing then that these things are so, verilv he 
 ought to watch and pray, that he may " continue in 
 faith and charity, and in holiness with sobriety," 
 unto the end. 
 
 CHAP. XLI. 
 
 Our Heart must be given to God. 
 
 If we could offer to God the whole world, and 
 yet keep back our heart, it would be to him a worth- 
 less and an odious offering. He considers not the 
 greatness or outward grandeur of human works, but 
 the spirit by which they are performed. Some build 
 hospitals, make noble endowments, give large dona- 
 tions, and do many other great and wonderful works ; 
 all which are not to be spoken against in themselves, 
 
229 
 
 because they are of use to the world, and especially 
 to the poor : but it is possible to do all these, with- 
 out heart for God, without considering his glory, 
 without faith in his mercy, or real love of mercy to 
 man, and without being in the least degree nearer to 
 him or his holiness. A widow, with two poor mites 
 and a hand and a heart of faith, will be found to have 
 done more than all these, in the sight of him who 
 judgeth righteously. 
 
 If our heart be given to God, we shall not be 
 barren or unfruitful indeed ; but our fruit will not be 
 for carnal display or vanity, but unto true holiness. 
 " Christ in us the hope of glory," is a principle of 
 such power, that it turns a man, as it were, out of 
 himself, delivers him from his own selfish whims and 
 intentions, releases him from a multitude of slavish 
 fears and concerns, and causes him ardently to desire 
 and delight in those things alone, which may exer- 
 cise a gracious and thankful spirit in showing forth 
 the praises of his kind Redeemer. 
 
 CHAP. XLII. 
 
 On Self-Sufficiency. 
 
 Multitudes of professors, without breach of 
 candour, evidently appear lifted up in themselves ; 
 and too many, from this unsubdued principle, are 
 plainly working for worldly eminence or observation, 
 while they would be thought to be working only for 
 God. 
 
2S0 
 
 "What is the origin of this evil ? To me it seems 
 to be founded in the imperfect knowledge of the 
 divine law, and consequently in a proportional igno- 
 rance of their own fallen nature. " By the law is 
 the knowledge of sin." The Holy Spirit uses it, 
 in the day of his power, to show to the heart its 
 own absolute sinfulness, to convince it of this never- 
 to-be-forgotten truth, that " in the flesh dwelleth 
 no good thing." Hence the force of our Lord's 
 declaration, " Ye must be born again." The old 
 nature is corrupt altogether, " according to the de- 
 ceitful lusts;" and in it the sinner must perish, if he 
 obtain not the grace of the Spirit, producing regen- 
 eration and a renewal of mind. 
 
 From the ignorance of this truth, either in prin- 
 ciple or practice, or in both, men, professing religion, 
 and holding even some important doctrines of the 
 gospel, become conceited and full of themselves. 
 If the law had read its lesson duly upon their hearts, 
 it would necessarily sink their arrogance into humi- 
 liation and abasement. From the want of this teach- 
 ing, they think it possible for a man to repent of him- 
 self, to ask in faith before he hath it, and to do much 
 that even God in his purity will accept and approve. 
 Upon some latent or dormant principles of inherent 
 goodness and strength, not quite diminished by the 
 fall, they presume, that a person may begin with 
 God, and that, after this beginning, God will, in 
 consequence, (absurd as it may seem,) begin with 
 him. This rotten foundation, grounded upon rea- 
 son, or the exercise only of the argumentative facul- 
 ties, is the chief support of the false and incoherent 
 
231 
 
 superstructure, which, in their further proceeding, 
 they unavoidably build upon it. The basis and the 
 building are truly of the same materials — the proud 
 conceit and unsubdued ignorance of the natural heart. 
 If the numerous ramifications of error were traced to 
 their origin, they will be found, more or less, to unite 
 in this master-error — a vain presumption of the free- 
 will, ability, or rational capacity, of fallen men. 
 
 The Lord teaches his redeemed a very different 
 lesson. They are first brought down by him, that 
 they may, in due time, be properly exalted. He 
 teaches them the right use of the law, that they may 
 know how to receive truly, and enjoy sweetly, the 
 rich grace of his gospel. In proportion as men sink 
 by the one, they rise by the other. He, therefore, 
 who most lives the gospel, (for it is a life, and not a 
 mere profession,) who most spiritually enjoys the gos- 
 pel, and in it most entirely gives himself up to the 
 will and word of the Redeemer, is and must be best 
 acquainted with the nature and purpose of the law, 
 and, by its use, enters most deeply into the renuncia- 
 tion of himself. He who mingles law and gospel (a 
 case not unfrequent even among great professors) 
 through ignorance of the right place of either, must 
 proportionably walk in darkness and discomfort, and 
 may, unless God in mercy prevent it, fall into some 
 dangerous errors, the very nature of which tends to 
 harden the heart, as well as to blind the eyes of those 
 who are subverted by them. Heresy is no slight 
 affair, but will spread and " eat as doth a canker." 
 In very deed, every man without real grace, be his 
 denomination what it may, is and must be, either 
 
232 
 
 secretly or openly, if not both together, a real An- 
 tinomian. 
 
 Who then " is sufficient for these things," or 
 able " to direct his own steps ?" How can any 
 escape, since all are blinded by nature, and shut up 
 under sin and condemnation through the holiness of 
 the law ? Blessed be the Lord for his grace and all- 
 sufficiency ! Viewing these in faith, the believer 
 may say with his brother of old, Though " I am 
 not sufficient of myself to think any thing as of my- 
 self, yet my sufficiency is of God ;" or, with a bro- 
 ther of still higher antiquity, " Jehovah is my light 
 and my salvation, whom shall I fear? Jehovah is the 
 strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid ?" 
 He, who knows what all this means, will tremble to 
 have recourse to the powers of nature, or to rely upon 
 himself? and, of course, boasting will be excluded. 
 Egotisms, or much about a man's own self, rarely 
 become a Christian, and are seldom necessary. Pub- 
 lications of this sort are usually the ebullitions of an 
 overflowing vanity, or the high conceit of a man's 
 own consequence in the world. 
 
 CHAP. XLIII. 
 
 On Liberty of Soul. 
 
 The real liberty of the soul consists in a happy 
 freedom from the usurped dominion of sin and Satan. 
 The Christian therefore denies himself, because of 
 
233 
 
 sin in his mortal body ; he shuns the spirit of the 
 world, because by its sinfulness it promotes his in- 
 bred corruptions ; he prays and watches against the 
 evil one, because he is the grand tempter and stirrer 
 of all iniquity both in himself and others. 
 
 The more this frame is maintained, the more will 
 the heart enjoy " the glorious liberty of the children 
 of God." This is a holy and righteous freedom 
 which the Christian pants after continually, and 
 which is then most sweetly experienced, when the 
 soul is most abstracted from the low solicitudes and 
 dull satisfactions of sense and time. The Father 
 of mercies is the cause, the Son of his love is the 
 channel, and the Spirit of grace is the power, of all 
 the spiritual freedom in earth and heaven, and of all 
 the transporting blessedness resulting from it. 
 
 The world and the flesh are a dead weight upon 
 the mind in its possession and exercise of this de- 
 lightful liberty ; and therefore, in the mind's struggles 
 to gain and secure it, the world and the flesh must 
 be brought down and kept clown, having nothing 
 about them, separately from the mercy and provi- 
 dence of God, but miserable chains and fetters, 
 wherewith to bind and imprison the soul. 
 
 CHAP. XLIV. 
 
 On Sickness. 
 
 All sickness and sorrow arise from sin. If we 
 were not unholy creatures, we could not be unhappy 
 
234. 
 
 creatures. Because of the ill-habit occasioned by 
 transgression, every element fights against our health 
 by changes and inclemencies; and the very food we 
 eat, while it nourishes for a time, lays the foundation 
 of disease in our bodies, already prepared by their 
 own weakness and ill temperament to receive and 
 increase it. 
 
 Sickness is a dismal scourge to the ungodly, and 
 a painful spur to the gracious. To the one, when 
 the law flashes its lightnings upon the guilty con- 
 science, and thunders all its terrors upon the startled 
 soul, then disease comes forward as the harbinger of 
 terror and misery; but, to the other, a solemn re- 
 membrancer, through the gospel of grace, both of 
 the vanity of all earthly things, and of the nearer and 
 nearer approach to immortal glory. 
 
 When sickness comes, and grace can meet it, O 
 what a just representation do they make to the soul 
 concerning the poor honours, riches, cares, and plea- 
 sures of this transitory world ! How unimportant 
 do all the struggles for power, splendour, titles, 
 wealth, and pre-eminence, which have employed or 
 enraged the past and present ages, appear ! How 
 childish and mean do these objects pass before us, 
 for which men have lavished their time, and thrown 
 away their souls ! What bubbles, what nonsense, 
 what glaring and horrid stupidity, have filled and 
 directed, have engaged and overwhelmed, the coun- 
 sels of the greatest men ; and all to no other profit 
 than a little fleeting vanity, with a rapid descent to 
 lasting oblivion or ruin ! Thus the soul feels, when 
 it is quickened by sickness to consider the low and 
 passing affairs of earth and of time. 
 
235 
 
 On the contrary, how inexpressibly great and 
 tremendous do the things of God and eternity rise 
 in full view to the mind ! O the worth of worlds, 
 what are they, in some of these soul-searching mo- 
 ments ! How is the soul astonished with the gran- 
 deur of God, and with the deep and wide importance 
 of all that belongs to him ! Wrapt in the solemn 
 contemplation of unutterable glories, how doth the 
 spirit of a man tremblingly examine and solicitously 
 inquire into the truth and extent of its interest in 
 them ! And if grace seal an answer of peace upon 
 the heart, how doth it flutter with gladness at its 
 safety, and how will the whole frame be agitated 
 with a new delight in the sure prospect of an eter- 
 nal concern in these valuable, these only valuable, 
 things ! 
 
 The Christian will be wakingly alive to all this 
 and more, if his disorder be such as can admit of 
 reflection. Blessed be God, however, whether he 
 can thus reflect or not ; yet, being a Christian, his 
 state is equally safe with God through his gracious 
 Redeemer. Whatever be the frame, the promise is 
 sure ; the covenant of God is ordered in all things 
 and sure, and sure and faithful is God himself to 
 perform it. It is comfortable, and indeed desirable, 
 to have pleasant foretastes and feelings of grace and 
 glory, under the pain or decay of the body; but 
 they are no otherwise material to the true believer's 
 security for heaven. If he hath not these percep- 
 tions during the short time of his sickness, he will 
 have them abundantly after it, if it end in his dis- 
 solution ; or, if it do not thus end, the want of them 
 
236 
 
 is a loud admonition to make his calling and election 
 sure, in the days that may yet be appointed him. 
 
 If we cannot think of Christ, through the power 
 of disease, O what a happiness is it to be assured 
 that Christ thinks constantly and effectually of us ! 
 He " maketh all our bed in our sickness ;" that is, 
 he turns the whole frame of our condition in it for 
 our best advantage. 
 
 O Lord, leave me not, poor and helpless sinner 
 that I am, in my most healthful state ; leave me not, 
 especially, I beseech thee, in the low, the languid, 
 the distressing circumstances of infirmity and dis- 
 ease ! Jesus, Master, thou art said to have borne 
 our sicknesses, because thou barest the sins which 
 occasioned them; take, take away from my conscience 
 the guilt which brought disease, and then the worst 
 part of its misery shall likewise be done away. And 
 when, through my feebleness or disorder, I cannot 
 act faith upon thy love, O lift my drooping spirit, 
 carry me as one of thine own lambs in thy bosom, 
 enfold me in thy gracious arms, and let my soul 
 wholly commit itself, and give up its all, in quiet 
 resignation to thee ! If thou raise me from my 
 sickness, grant that it may be for the setting forth 
 of thy glory among men : if thou take me by sick- 
 ness from this world, O thou Hope and Life of my 
 soul, receive me to thyself for my everlasting happi- 
 ness, and present me as another monument of sove- 
 reign grace, before the great assembly of saints and 
 angels in thy kingdom of heaven ! 
 
237 
 
 CHAP. XLV. 
 
 On Death. 
 
 It is an awful and a solemn thing to die ; and I 
 am sometimes amazed at myself, that, seeing it is 
 not only awful but sure, I can be so void of reflec- 
 tion or recollection, as 1 frequently am, concerning it. 
 
 Some talk bravely about death, and of encounter- 
 ing it with great natural courage, or upon high phi- 
 losophical principles. These may indeed defy or 
 meet the sting ; but they can neither soften nor take 
 it away. For a sinner to bully death with no spiri- 
 tual life in his soul, and no everlasting life in rever- 
 sion, is the act of a desperate madman, who laughs 
 at a horrible precipice before him, and rushes down 
 headlong to destruction. 
 
 O eternity ! eternity ! It is fearful indeed to burst 
 the bonds of life, and to break forth into the bound- 
 less and unalterable regions of eternity ! Nature, in 
 its senses, cannot bear the shocking reflection, which 
 death affords, oither of being an everlasting nothing, 
 as atheists talk, or of enduring everlasting misery, as 
 sin deserves. It is grace only which can inspire the 
 heart with a hope full of joy and immortality, that, 
 when this brittle transitory life is past, the soul 
 shall possess a being, happy and long as the days of 
 heaven. 
 
 Through Jesus Christ alone is death disarmed. 
 When the Saviour sneaks peace and salvation through 
 
238 
 
 his cross and righteousness, this last great enemy is 
 no more the king of terrors. He gives up his fear- 
 ful sting, and destroys nothing about the Christian 
 but sin, and the means of sin. 
 
 O how sweet is the smile of that Christian, who, 
 dying in the body, feels himself just upon living for 
 ever ! " He is not sick unto death, but unto life," 
 indeed. He quits his cares, his sorrows, his infir- 
 mities, and all that could distress or distract his spirit 
 here, and looks calmly into the state before him, 
 where he can meet with nothing but concord and 
 joy, in the society of the redeemed and of his Sa- 
 viour. He is weaned from the earth, and therefore 
 can part with it easily; he is fitted for heaven, and 
 therefore longs for it earnestly. He cannot but de- 
 sire that which is congenial with his own renewed 
 mind ; and this can truly and perfectly be found only 
 in the regions of glory. 
 
 They who afflict themselves (said a primitive 
 Christian writer) about the loss of this life, are like 
 the infants unborn, who, if they could reflect, might 
 bewail an expulsion from the womb at the approach- 
 ing time of their birth ; foolishly considering it not 
 as the means, but as the end of being. So men, in 
 their natural state, may indeed deplore their removal 
 from this world, for which only they desire to live ; 
 but the renewed Christian is privileged to have a 
 more glorious hope of a life everlastingly pure like 
 God's, and of a habitation wide and beautiful as the 
 temple of heaven. 
 
 Lord, when I shall quit this clay, I know not, nor 
 do I desire to know. It will be sufficient for me, 
 
239 
 
 if thou sustain me by thy grace now, and if I am di- 
 vinely assured that I shall be for ever with thee in 
 the world to come. O that this invincible " joy of 
 the Lord may indeed be my strength," when I lie 
 clown upon the bed of languishing and death, wait- 
 ing from moment to moment for Christ, and for my 
 dismission to be with him ! 
 
 Whene'er my head must take its last repose, 
 O keep thy presence nigh, my God, my friend; 
 And tenderly my weary eye-lids close, 
 While to thy Spirit's care I mine commend ! 
 
 Soon this body shall turn to the dust, from whence 
 it was framed ; but nothing can extinguish the life 
 of my spirit, which hath no relation to erath, which 
 cannot subsist by matter and form, and which, in its 
 faculties of will, understanding, love, and perception, 
 is of kin to a brighter world. And O how reviving 
 is the thought ! I am not only of kin to angels and 
 heavenly spirits by the very nature of my soul ; but 
 I am doubly related to them and to my God, by 
 beino- born again and renewed after his blessed image 
 or likeness, through Christ Jesus. I am made by 
 this a child and an heir of an everlasting inheritance. 
 All that death, then, can do to me is, to tell me that 
 I am of age, and to lead me forth from these cham- 
 bers of darkness to celebrate my birth-day in the 
 palace of glory. There is in this view (what hath 
 often been tasted) a kind of luxury in dying. In 
 such a blessed, such an animating sense of death, I 
 ought to say, that he might well bear another name; 
 1 or, rather, I might exult with the prophet and apostle, 
 
240 
 
 " O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is 
 thy victory ?" 
 
 Whence then, at times, is the shuddering reluc- 
 tance I feel at the prospect of dying? Surely it is 
 because my faith and hope are not so lively as they 
 are privileged to be ; it is because I do not so steadily 
 trust in the truth of those things, which my mind 
 apprehends, and which I profess to be waiting for. 
 Earth is too real, and heaven too unreal ; or I could 
 not thus hesitate, or tremblingly stand on the bank 
 of the brook which keeps me from the fruition of 
 God. The struggle of my heart would not be for 
 longer and longer continuance here, if my spirit were 
 as firmly persuaded, as it should be, of my inheri- 
 tance and mansion in glory. 
 
 Thou blessed Saviour of poor sinners like me, on 
 thee, and on thee alone, my eyes are fixed ! In the 
 solemn last hour of my pilgrimage below, O let my 
 eyes of faith be yet more steadily and more ardently 
 fixed upon thee ! And do thou, in the tender com- 
 passion of thy heart, which can sympathize with all 
 thy people's woes, look down in my departing mo- 
 ments upon me. Sooth the pangs of death with 
 thy rich consolation and care. Let me then see 
 thee indeed, by precious faith, who to carnal sense art 
 invisible; ready, willing, glad to receive my soul; and 
 let me pour it forth, in an ecstacy of praise and de- 
 sire, as into the bosom of everlasting love ! — O my 
 God, thus to die, would not be dying; but only be- 
 ginning to live and to be happy for ever ! 
 
 So true are thy gracious words, O my Jesus, that 
 " whosoever liveth and believeth in thee shall never 
 
241 
 
 die :" no, " he shall never perish, but is passed from 
 death unto life, and shall live for evermore." Glory 
 be to thee for this rich, this invaluable promise ! 
 Lord, I believe; O help mine unbelief! 
 
 CHAP. XLVI. 
 
 The Recollection of this Second Part in Prayer 
 to God. 
 
 Enable me, O Lord my God ! to examine my- 
 self, the state of my soul, and the reality and growth 
 of my experience, seriously, deeply, and constantly. 
 I am still clothed with a corrupt nature, and therefore 
 am always inclined to favour myself; and nothing 
 but thy grace can give me a faithful distrust of my 
 own condition and attainments, or a holy watchful- 
 ness over all that passeth within me. 
 
 As I have received Christ Jesus my Lord, so I 
 know it is my interest, privilege, happiness, and duty 
 to walk, to live, to grow, and to press forward in 
 him. O keep me from spiritual sloth, or as it may 
 better be called, from carnal security, that I may run, 
 with the loins of my mind always girt and disen- 
 tangled, and with increasing faith and patience, the 
 blessed race which thou hast set before me ! Give 
 zeal for every duty, wisdom and strength rightly to 
 perform it, and humble holy resignation of heart to 
 leave all the success to thee. 
 
 Make me wise to discern the motions within my 
 L 9 
 
242 
 
 soul, and to trace out from whence they proceed. 
 O let me not be deceived by the will or the cunning 
 artifice of the flesh, whenever it would mingle in 
 holy things ; but let my spirit be thine own sacred 
 temple, where I may find thee indeed, working in 
 me, enlightening and enlivening me for all thy ser- 
 vice and glory, and drawing me with a single eye, 
 and a simple heart, to seek not myself, not my own 
 pride, profit, or pleasure, but all I want, and all I can 
 rightly have, in thee, and from thee alone ! Draw 
 me nearer and nearer to this just and perfect rule of 
 action, to this sweet and blessed spiritual life; so 
 that I may be able indeed to say, and with the in- 
 creasing confidence of truth, " I no longer live, but 
 Christ liveth in me ; and the life that I live in the 
 flesh, is not after the flesh, but by the faith of the 
 Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself freely 
 for me." O let this be my humble and secret path 
 of life, which none can know but whom thou teachest, 
 and which, for its narrowness, none can walk in but 
 those whom thou supportest by thy hand ! 
 
 Thou knowest, O my God, that I am in the world, 
 surrounded by temptations, opposed by men, attacked 
 by devils, weakened by infirmities, and exposed by a 
 corrupt nature to all manner of evils. Without are 
 fightings ; within are fears. How shall I get safely 
 on to the end ; or, rather, how shall I get on at all, 
 unless thou art with me ? I plead then thine own 
 promise of truth, that thou wilt guide me by thy 
 counsel, and at last receive me to glory. 
 
 Keep me, while lam in the world, from the envious, 
 proud, hateful, dangerous, and unhappy spirit, which 
 
243 
 
 aboundeth in it. Let me have constant proof that 
 indeed I am thine, by having thy life manifest in my 
 mortal body, controlling and subduing it in all things 
 to thy righteous will. So shall even the world own, 
 that I have been with Jesus : and if it hate me, upon 
 that account, as it hated him, O welcome be it, and 
 let me account it as one of my brightest evidences 
 and greatest honours. 
 
 In all the circumstances and conditions of my out- 
 ward life, O help me to look for thy special blessing, 
 without which nothing can succeed in itself, without 
 which every thing may lead me astray ! Help me to 
 bear losses and crosses as thy dispensations intended 
 only for my good ; and give me wisdom and grace to 
 see thine intention, and to get the good thou mean- 
 est by them. If one of thine hands be laid hard 
 upon me, let the other support and bear me up with 
 the more firmness and stability. Restrain all the 
 murmuring and rebellion of my carnal nature against 
 thy holy will, and lead my spirit, by all visitations, 
 to nearer fellowship and sweeter communion with 
 thee. So shall my earthly sorrows be turned into 
 spiritual joys, and all the calamities which can befal 
 me here, shall become urging and successful remem- 
 brancers to prepare me for that decaying mansion, 
 " where the wicked cease from troubling, and where 
 the weary are at rest." 
 
 And when sickness and death shall come, as come 
 they must in a very little while at the longest, O 
 stand by me, my dear and only Lord, in my droop- 
 ing and needful moments ! Make all my bed in my 
 sickness, and overcome the sorrows of nature by the 
 l2 
 
. 244 
 
 lively joys of thy grace. Receive my spirit, which 
 I commit unto thee, as thine only ; for truly I am 
 thine entirely, thine by purchase, thine by grace, 
 thine by promise, thine by the immutable and con- 
 secrating oath of all thine holy attributes. Carry, O 
 carry me to the regions of peace, to the church and 
 general assembly of the first-born, to the blissful city 
 of God, and to thine own habitation, O Jesus, my 
 Lord, my Life, my only Redeemer ! Whom have 
 I in heaven itself but thee ; and what can I desire, 
 throughout all the universe of thy works, in compari- 
 son of thee ? My heart and my flesh may fail, yea, 
 they shall and must fail ; but thou, even thou, art the 
 strength of my heart, and my portion for ever ! 
 
PART III. 
 
 THE BELIEVER'S OUTWARD CONVERSATION 
 AND CONDUCT WITH OTHERS. 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN REMEMBRANCER. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The real Christian loves his Country, and is there- 
 fore the best of Patriots. 
 
 Political hypocrisy hath made the laudable name 
 of patriotism almost suspicious. But he that is sin- 
 cere in the best things, and walks as in the sight of 
 God, will, of all men, be faithful in lower matters, 
 and carry a sterling integrity from religion into every 
 duty of social life. On the other hand, he that re- 
 gards not God, nor yet other men but as they are 
 convenient to himself, may very justly be suspected 
 respecting his fidelity to his country. Profit and 
 vain-glory, indeed, will carry some men very far, as 
 they have done ; but strip a worldly man of these, 
 and where are his motives for promoting the national 
 welfare ? 
 
 The Christian is not a mere showy patriot, for 
 lucre or for fame ; but he is, what none but a Chris- 
 tian can be, a patriot in spirit and in truth, pouring 
 out his secret and earnest prayers before God for 
 
248 
 
 the true prosperity of the land. The world, indeed, 
 hath a low opinion of this artillery of heaven ; but 
 He, who is wiser than the world, hath told us, that 
 the " effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man 
 availeth much." And if one such person, like an 
 Elias, can be instrumental in drawing down public 
 blessings, what may not be hoped for from the prayers 
 of legions of Christians throughout the nation? We 
 may read what the prayers of such men have ob- 
 tained, in Heb. xi. 33, 34. 
 
 The Christian patriot will rejoice in all the good 
 done to his country, though other hands, rather than 
 his, have been employed in the doing it. That man 
 deserves not the name of a patriot, to whom the 
 peace, honour, and prosperity of his country are va- 
 luable, only as they may contribute to his own. 
 
 As the Christian's patriotism is founded upon the 
 pure principles of religion, he is more desirous of his 
 country's prosperity in true worth and virtue, than in 
 mere power and riches, which are often the danger- 
 ous fuel of luxury and pride both to states and indi- 
 viduals. He is no enemy to commerce, for a thou- 
 sand reasons ; but an utter enemy to commercial 
 vices, for reasons infinite and eternal. 
 
 In wishing for his country all kinds of temporal 
 blessings, he cannot forget to ask, before God, for a 
 greater abundance of spiritual mercies. His heart's 
 desire is, that the gospel and religion of Jesus Christ, 
 happily countenanced and established by the laws, 
 may for ever flourish through the land in its most 
 genuine and effectual power and purity. Though 
 he is not, and cannot be, an enemy to any man, yet 
 
249 
 
 he is a well-principled adversary to all wicked and 
 blasphemous errors and opinions, and to all profliga- 
 cies of heart and life, which flow from them, and 
 which have overrun the country with guilt and shame. 
 
 The Christian carries religion into his patriotism, 
 but not his patriotism into religion. The things of 
 God are too holy and sacred with him either to be 
 mixed with, or truckled to, the little low politics of 
 men. He is the citizen of a better country, and a 
 pilgrim in all others ; though a peculiar and public- 
 spirited friend to that in which he was born. 
 
 As he can say with Samuel, " God forbid that I 
 should sin against the Lord in ceasing to pray for 
 his " nation ; so he would act upon all occasions as 
 Samuel did, and endeavour to promote the welfare 
 of his country by being a good countryman. He 
 will contribute fairly and cheerfully to her burdens, 
 live in all godly quietness and honesty among his 
 people, and pray faithfully and earnestly for the whole 
 public weal as a Christian. Were all the subjects 
 such patriots, the country would have but small rea- 
 son to be afraid of the most mighty and numerous 
 enemies ; for who could penetrate the wall of fire, 
 with which God, in such a case, would surround it ? 
 
 3L3 
 
250 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Tlte real Christian is conscientiously a dutiful sub- 
 ject to the King and his Government. 
 
 He that said, " fear God," immediately added, 
 as one evident proof of the reality of godly fear, 
 " honour the king." Being chief magistrate, the 
 king is God's first temporal minister, who is to bear 
 the sword of justice and judgment, "for the punish- 
 ment of evil-doers, and for the praise of them that 
 do well." The Christian then, living like a Chris- 
 tian, has no just cause to fear a wound. We are 
 commanded by God to reverence those who act under 
 the king, for these ends ; how much more then are 
 we bound to regard himself? And if the Christian 
 be concerned for his country, he cannot be uncon- 
 cerned for his sovereign, who is more deeply inter- 
 ested in its welfare than any other man. 
 
 He prays publicly and privately for his king, for 
 his family, and for all that are put in authority under 
 him. It is his wisdom, interest, principle, and duty, 
 thus to pray ; because their prosperity is not only 
 connected with his own, but their downfal would 
 occasion the worst of hazards to millions of people. 
 He who countenances strife and sedition, can no 
 more be a true and benevolent Christian than a real 
 patriot and subject ; for, by these, confusion, rebel- 
 lion, rapine, and murder, may overspread a land, to 
 the general destruction, and to the reproachful hin- 
 
£51 
 
 derance, of godliness and piety. I can find examples 
 of pardon for the most atrocious private sins, in the 
 Bible ; but I do not recollect one instance of God's 
 mercy extended to the public crime of rebellion. 
 Indeed, the same word is used in the original both 
 for rebellion and for apostacy from God ; and pro- 
 bably because they are almost one and the same 
 thing. Rebellion is an aggregate evil, inducing and 
 involving every other wickedness, and is precisely 
 that offence of the first magnitude, which ruined the 
 fallen angels, and through them brought misery and 
 mischief into this world, as well as occasioned the 
 irreparable sorrows of eternity. 
 
 A true Christian values private, public, and reli- 
 gious peace at too high a rate, ever to sacrifice it to 
 the caprices and suspicions of selfish parties and 
 worldly politicians. Corrupt as the world now is, 
 he is thankful for the civil and religious liberty he 
 enjoys, esteeming it a wonderful providence to him 
 as a Briton, above all other men ; and therefore he 
 is not captious and querulous because governors are 
 frail mortals like himself, and consequently cannot 
 possibly please every one, nor be absolutely perfect 
 in all thing's. 
 
 In cases of real oppression, the Christian hath a 
 better God to go to than his own passions, or the 
 violences of sinful men, or the evil god of this pre- 
 sent evil world, who kindles those violences and pas- 
 sions by his own. He doth not rave, but pray ; not 
 swear and curse, but bless ; not strive to cut throats 
 for his own self-will, but to subdue his own heart 
 first to the will of God, and to soften the hearts of 
 
252 
 
 others by temperance of conduct, kindness of reason, 
 and innocence of life. " And who is he that will 
 harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good ? 
 But if ye suffer for righteousness' sake, happy are 
 ye; and be not afraid of their terror, neither be 
 troubled ; but sanctify the Lord God in your hearts." 
 The word of God is the Christian's rule of poli- 
 tics ; not the false, fanciful, ignorant, and impracti- 
 cable speculations of men, who know not their own 
 hearts, and who, deriving all from their own stock, 
 could not have true wisdom or grace, and conse- 
 quently could not truly and really govern themselves. 
 Whatever principles, temper, and conduct, cannot 
 be " sanctified by the word of God and prayer," are 
 absolutely unholy to a Christian, and strictly to be 
 avoided by him. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 The real Christian icill punctually obey the Laws of 
 his country, in every thing not opposite to the will 
 and word of God. 
 
 Iniquity, not righteousness, is the object and 
 occasion of law. Without law, so sinful is man, 
 there could be no society, property, liberty, or peace. 
 And though real Christians would, as such, do nothing 
 but right, were there no law at all, yet as the num- 
 ber of these is few, and as the nature of man is frail, 
 and requires order and direction, they cannot better 
 
253 
 
 show that they could live without laws, than by the 
 most exact attention never to break them. 
 
 There is only one case in which a Christian can 
 withdraw his obedience; namely, when the laws of 
 men are directly opposite to the will, and word, and 
 laws of God. But he ought to be very sure that 
 they are so, and should rarely trust to his own single 
 judgment ; lest, instead of suffering for God, by re- 
 sisting man, he only set up his natural self-will 
 against that of others, and so disgrace rather than 
 glorify the cause of goodness and truth. 
 
 The laws of his country ought to be very dear, 
 at this time, to a British Christian ; because he is 
 most unreservedly protected by them, in his liberty, 
 property, and religion. He can now sit, and kneel 
 too, under his own vine, none making him afraid. 
 
 A professor of religion acts unworthily, when he 
 strives to evade the spirit and intention of the laws, 
 or to profit by secretly breaking them. It is no act 
 of faith, either to smuggle, or to eat, drink, and wear, 
 such things as the prudence of the state hath for- 
 .bidden. Persons who can allow themselves in this 
 licentiousness, ought to examine the uprightness and 
 sincerity of their own consciences, and whether they 
 would not yet further contribute to the ruin and con- 
 fusion of their country, if the punishment and force, 
 meant for ungodly men, did not restrain even them. 
 The Christianity of a smuggler, or shuffler of just 
 duties and taxes, is as much to be doubted, as the 
 honour and justice of a professed highwayman. It 
 may be added, that the man deserves the highest 
 blame, who, professing religion, can venture to do 
 
254 
 
 what religion and reason uniformly condemn. By 
 his profession he renders himself both a cheat and a 
 hypocrite ; whereas, without it, he would only have 
 been demonstrated — a knave. These are hard and 
 bad names ; but they cannot be so bad or offensive 
 to us, as the persons to whom they rightly belong 
 most certainly are in the sight of Him who hateth 
 iniquity. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 How a real Christian should conduct himself towards 
 the Church of God. 
 
 The untamed corruptions and natural blindness 
 of the human heart, have introduced a great variety 
 of disorders into Christian profession, and occasioned 
 the whole multitude of sects and parties. All be- 
 lievers agree, that there is but one spiritual church, 
 the bride of Christ and the mother of the faithful; 
 but all believers do not act as if they really con- 
 sented to this truth. What mischiefs hath not the 
 carnal mind produced in all ages ! Superstition, 
 bigotry, persecution, pomp, parade, and intolerance, 
 are all of them the proper fruits of an evil heart, 
 uncircumcised, unsubdued, untaught, by the Spirit 
 and power of God. They are the evil and detest- 
 able weeds in the spiritual field, which do nothing but 
 stifle, overrun, rob, and impoverish the corn. 
 
 There are real Christians, perhaps, in every Chris- 
 
255 
 
 tian church or society ; and it will scarce be denied 
 that there are hypocrites, formalists, carnalists, and 
 ungodly men in all. Let the Christian's concience 
 be free ; for God is his only master in these things ; 
 but to whatever particular profession he may belong, 
 let his conversation be edifying to that, and let his 
 charity be shown to all the rest. He should be will- 
 ing to think the best things of any good men, con- 
 sidering the prejudices of education, the differences 
 of situation and temper, and the advantages which 
 God hath gi^n to some above others; and espe- 
 cially considering, that real Christians of all denomi- 
 nations are sincere in their views, and under deep 
 concern for the salvation of their souls. These con- 
 siderations beget tenderness in every spiritual mind : 
 and the want of this tenderness in any man is no 
 proof that he is not yet carnal. " In things neces- 
 sary, there should be unity ; in things not necessary, 
 liberty ; and in all things, charity." 
 
 Whatever difference may be in the outward mode 
 or form of real Christians, respecting the worship of 
 God, their life and spirit of worship are one and the 
 same. As believers under the law had the like grace 
 of faith with those under the gospel, though there 
 was a vast disparity in their outward dispensations, 
 so these last have an inward and substantial unity, 
 yea, and uniformity too, one with another. Let 
 each then, in his several vocation, not so much strive 
 for the honour of a party, the love of party being 
 only the love of self; but to glorify Christ with all 
 the gracious power which may be given him. It 
 would be happy indeed for themselves, and honour- 
 
256 
 
 able for the Christian religion, if all its professors 
 were like-minded in all outward things : but as this 
 is not to be expected, while evil can mingle with 
 good, or darkness with light, they ought however to 
 labour hard, on all sides, to keep the unity of the 
 Spirit in the bond of peace. 
 
 Let him that useth ceremonies, be candid to him 
 that useth them not ; and let him that will not ob- 
 serve times, and days, and rituals, pray for, rather 
 than revile, those who do. 
 
 The love of Christ preaches this lesson, which the 
 apostle of Christ, almost in so many words, enforces 
 and confirms. 
 
 With respect to those of the same denomination, 
 the Christian is called in a more especial manner to 
 show forth his works of faith and labours of love, for 
 their comfort and edification. He will see, that the 
 true distinction of a believer in Jesus, is not to rise 
 over all, and to set up himself as a great somebody, 
 but to be their helper or servant rather, showing all 
 meekness, patience, gentleness, and truth. The in- 
 firmities of others he must not magnify, but pity and 
 pray over, knowing that he himself also is in the flesh. 
 The attainments of others he must not envy, because 
 these are the free gift of God, which if a man can allow 
 himself to envy, it is only because he doth not know 
 this gift aright. Strength of spirit inspires another 
 conduct. Weakness of the flesh alone leads the 
 professor to this. In fine, whether he be a public- 
 servant or a private member in the visible church, he 
 will pray, that he may demean himself according to 
 the settled order, with all gravity and decency, that 
 
257 
 
 he may lay no stumbling-block in the way of the 
 weak, and no offence before the eyes of the strong ; 
 but that he may be an example of godliness, humi- 
 lity, faith, resignation, and charity, to all about him. 
 This, surely, is far better than any nick-name ; 
 for this is the true life and essence of what is signi- 
 fied by the best name — a Christian. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 On the Reciprocal Duties of Ministers and People. 
 
 It would be presumption in me to offer instruc- 
 tion to those by whom I would most gladly be taught. 
 My words, therefore, on this head shall be few ; and, 
 I trust, they will not offend. 
 
 The faithful minister is the servant, the shepherd 
 or pastor, the overseer, the teacher, the guide, the 
 physician, the helper, and the comforter of the peo- 
 ple committed to his charge. It is not, consequently, 
 a light business for light heads ; but an awful and 
 solemn concern, which requires all the grace, wisdom, 
 prudence, learning, courage, faith, patience, and 
 godliness, that are dispersed among the laity at large, 
 to be collected, as much as possible, in one particu- 
 lar man. 
 
 The profit of the flock, not the profit from the 
 flock, is the grand object of a true pastor's concern. 
 It is the character of the hireling, " whose own the 
 sheep are not," to care only for the fleece : and when 
 
258 
 
 he gets this, the sheep not being his, (which he 
 proves by his want of care for their souls,) he is 
 nothing better than a robber. The world swarms 
 with these spiritual thieves, who sacrifice all the 
 plunder to their idleness, avarice, pride, or pleasures. 
 
 What a character doth the Lord give of whom he 
 calls " the foolish shepherd !" He doth not " visit 
 those that are cut off, nor seek the young, nor heal 
 the broken, nor feed that which standeth still. 
 Woe," continues he, '•' to the idle " (the false or 
 foolish) " shepherd, that leaveth the flock : the 
 sword shall be upon his arm, and upon his right eye ; 
 his arm shall be clean dried up, and his right eye 
 shall be utterly darkened." He shall eventually be 
 without strength or understanding : Zech. xi. 16. 
 See also Ezek. xxxiv. 
 
 When any congregation of people have the bless- 
 ing of an able and faithful minister, how ought they 
 to prize so scarce and valuable a jewel ! Such a 
 one is worthy of all honour, both for his work's sake 
 and for his own sake; and those Christians are not 
 wise for themselves, who do not all in their power 
 to strengthen his hands, and to assist him in his 
 ministry. 
 
 One good way of accomplishing this, is to pray 
 earnestly and constantly in private for the pastor. 
 This would draw down mutual blessings both on the 
 speaker and hearers, and much endear them to each 
 other. The reason, probably, of the dissatisfaction 
 and uselessness, which often arise between them, 
 may be owing to the want of mutual prayer, which 
 begets indifference or remissness, as well as discovers 
 
259 
 
 too lax a spirit of watchfulness and faith. And then, 
 how can the word, on one side, profit ; and, on the 
 other, how can the preacher be approved? 
 
 The minister of Christ, who gives up all his time, 
 labour, and expectations, to his holy calling, ought 
 to be comfortably and honourably supported in it. 
 The labourer is worthy of his hire ; and the very 
 beasts eat of the corn for which they toil. If the 
 maintenance be voluntary, it ought to be the more 
 liberal for that very reason ; if it be settled, it ought 
 to be punctually complied with. It is sad for min- 
 isters, whose business is of a higher kind, that the 
 covetousness or dishonesty of their people should 
 make it just and necessary for them to attend, with 
 any anxiety, to lower affairs. Certainly, it betrays 
 a want of love to God, when men can suffer his 
 ministers or his poor to starve by their dwellings. 
 How can the pastor give himself up to the word and 
 to prayer, when he is constrained to serve tables ? 
 And how can he minister without distraction, when 
 poverty and care haunt and worry him all the day 
 long ? As a layman, I may ask these questions with- 
 out suspicion of any interested attachment to an order. 
 
 It is a melancholy fact, that the worldly pride and 
 laziness of some clergymen, have made the laity re- 
 gardless of their sacred profession, and ready to treat 
 it with wrongs : and that the spiritual ignorance and 
 irreligion of the laity have rendered the situation of 
 the clergy, in some respects, not so honourable or 
 desirable, as it should be, for themselves. 
 
 However these things may be, the Christian hath 
 one security of hope which can never fail : " The 
 
260 
 
 foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal — 
 The Lord knoweth them that are his ;" — and, " Let 
 every one that nameth the name of Christ depart 
 from iniquity." " God is our refuge and strength ; 
 we have found him abundantly so in trouble : there- 
 fore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, 
 and though the mountains be carried into the midst 
 of the sea. There is a river, the streams whereof 
 shall make glad the city of God." 
 
 Outward establishments may meet with revolu- 
 tions, and vary, and fail ; but the true temple of God 
 shall endure for ever. Yet, while Providence hath 
 ordained and settled so great a blessing as an esta- 
 blishment for religion among us, it seems to be the 
 duty and the privilege of grace cheerfully to observe 
 and support it. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 On Quarrels among Christians. 
 
 It is not grace which genders strife, but corrup- 
 tion. If therefore my brother's corruption be raised 
 against me, shall I oppose my corruption to his, and 
 so enter into wrath ? or shall I not rather beg of 
 God, that his grace in me may invite the grace that 
 is in my brother, and so we may settle the whole in 
 peace ? If we are real Christians, we must both 
 desire only what is just and right, or we do not live 
 like Christians ; and if we both agree in desiring 
 
261 
 
 this as the end, how is it that we differ violently 
 about the means ? If either have done, or desired 
 the wrong, the other, who may be more under the 
 conduct of grace, should kindly and affectionately 
 represent it; and, if he cannot be heard, should leave 
 the matter to God, without raising the unholy and 
 unhappy tumult of heat and resentment in his own 
 mind. He that can bear and forbear most, is cer- 
 tainly most like the Christian. It is misery and dead- 
 ness to a real believer to walk and to war after the 
 base fury and discord of the flesh. When he de- 
 serves well of men, and patiently suffers evil from 
 them, then he is like to his Master, and right in 
 himself. 
 
 The apostle directs for believers, not the ven- 
 geance of the law, but Christian arbitration. Law 
 is the last refuge, and can only be lawful when right 
 is not to be had by better means. 
 
 If Christians, who have a matter of difference, 
 would graciously agree to meet with each other in 
 prayer, and to pray together kindly for each other 
 before the throne of grace ; surely, if they meant 
 the attainment of that right and truth which they 
 prayed for, they might soon find it out, and settle it 
 accordingly. But it is the flesh which comes in 
 and mars all. One cannot stoop ; and the other will 
 not. They are not so wise as Luther's two goats, 
 that met upon a narrow plank over a deep water. 
 They could not go back, and they dared not to fight. 
 At length, one of them lay down, while the other 
 went over him ; and so peace and safety attended 
 both. Why should not believers try this method ? 
 
262 
 
 But, alas ! while grace remains idle or neuter, the 
 world jeers and triumphs ; the devil is busy and 
 tempts ; good men mourn and lament ; the weak are 
 stumbled, and turned aside ; and a long train of in- 
 quietudes and jealousies fill the breasts of those, who 
 humbly hope to dwell with God and with each other 
 throughout eternity. These things ought not so to be. 
 
 If my brother be in the wrong, how shall I show 
 myself in the right ? By wounding him more than 
 he hath wounded himself? By doing wrong like- 
 wise, and rendering evil for evil ? No ; let me pray 
 that God would open his eyes, and not shut my 
 heart ; that he would give him more grace, and me 
 more patience to meet what is not gracious in him ; 
 and, at the utmost, that I may not be a partaker with 
 him of anger, or of those sins which may follow upon it. 
 
 Am I in the wrong ? What then shall I do ? 
 Shall I persist in it, and make myself more in the 
 wrong ? This would not be gracious ; this would 
 be bringing misery by heaps upon myself. Rather 
 let me go first to God, and then to my brother, ac- 
 knowledging my fault, or my error, to both. There 
 is no shame in confessing our sins to God, nor any 
 meanness in owning them to men. It is the mark 
 of a noble and generous spirit in common life ; and 
 it is the wisdom, as well as the duty and privilege, 
 of a much better life in the Christian. 
 
 O thou love of the brethren, whither art thou 
 fled ! We profess to believe in the communion of 
 saints ; but where are the saints who have this com- 
 munion ? We talk of the unity of God's church 
 with respect to its members ; but where are those 
 
2dS 
 
 members who live in this unity ? O shame upon us, 
 that we differ at all, that we differ on trifles, that we 
 love to differ, that we urge and promote differences, 
 and that the healing spirit is not more to be found 
 amongst us ! Lord, if thou wouldst differ with us 
 at any time, as we are ready at all times to differ 
 with others, O how should we stand before thee, or 
 what could we answer for ourselves ! Give, O give 
 more of thy grace, that we may be humble in our 
 own hearts, true and just in our desires, mild to 
 others, and deeply submissive to thee ! 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 On the Marriages of real Christians, and their 
 Duties in that state. 
 
 It is the voice of reason and religion, that piety 
 must not be yoked with profaneness, nor the true be- 
 liever with an infidel. When persons have broken 
 through this rule, they have always done it to their 
 own sad cost ; as abundance of examples can testify. 
 
 Some have ventured upon this transgression from 
 mere carnal motives, pretending at least to hope that 
 they might be the instruments of bringing the other 
 side unto God. Many instances indeed occur, 
 where both parties have married before they knew 
 the grace of God, and have afterwards been called 
 by it ; but the example, perhaps, is not easily to be 
 found, where a believer, acting directly against the 
 
264. 
 
 rule of God, for merely temporal ends, hath been 
 blessed with the spiritual advantage of a partner's con- 
 version ; but, on the contrary, hath been vexed with 
 trouble and mortification to the end of life. It may 
 be expected that God will be faithful to his own 
 word, and that they who wilfully violate his order, 
 cannot do it with confidence in his blessing. 
 
 This blessing of God is all in all ; and if we have 
 not this, whatever we have beside, it is nothing, or 
 worse than : nothing. 
 
 When the marriage-contract is made graciously, 
 and with grace, there is every reason to hope for 
 success. The less water of earth, and the more wine 
 of heaven, there may be at the feast, so much the 
 better. 
 
 After marriage, begins a life of care ; and conse- 
 quently the life of faith should be strengthened to 
 bear it. It is a good way for married persons, not 
 only to pray in the family, or privately, but together. 
 Mutual prayers will improve mutual affections, and 
 turn the very commonest blessings of life into spi- 
 ritual mercies. If Christ dwell indeed in both their 
 hearts, he will not only keep out disgust and variance, 
 but subdue, or remove the causes of them. 
 
 As this state requires much and strong grace to 
 go through it properly towards God, so it demands 
 a larger exercise of charity, forbearance, and kind- 
 ness than any other, that no duty fail between the 
 first and dearest of neighbours, the husband and 
 wife. These are more exposed to solicitude, trouble, 
 and a thousand affecting circumstances, than persons 
 in the single state : they are yoked inseparably to 
 
265 
 
 meet them, and inseparably must bear them. Now, 
 if grace be not the living and conquering principle 
 in two persons thus circumstanced, there are so many 
 imperfections in themselves, so many unavoidable 
 mortifications from others, and so many evils on 
 every side, that it will be impossible for them to live, 
 in a due degree, as they ought, above the common 
 disquietudes which overwhelm the world. But grace 
 in the heart will double every temporal mercy, soften 
 every temporal misery, and lead them on, with united 
 hands, towards the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 What a comfort is it to true Christians, truly 
 married in grace as well as nature, to reflect, that 
 as they are helpers of each other's faith and joy in 
 this world, so they shall be everlasting friends, in a 
 more exalted way of life, in the kingdom of God ! 
 They can remain together in this state for only a 
 very few years at the most ; but there, no further 
 separation shall ensue : being as the angels of God, 
 they shall live with him and the whole church of the 
 redeemed in unspeakable joy for ever. Their pre- 
 sent union of heart and grace faintly typifies the 
 union of themselves and of all the faithful with 
 Christ ; and, when they part here, they do not sepa- 
 rate in the best sense, but only pass off, one perhaps 
 after the other, to enjoy this union in everlasting 
 perfection. 
 
 M 
 
CHAP. VIII. 
 
 On the Duty of Parents. 
 
 The general rule of parental duty is, to bring up 
 children " in the nurture and admonition of the 
 Lord." It is true, we cannot give them grace, but 
 we can lead them to the means of grace : we cannot 
 give them a new life, but we can correct the old one : 
 we cannot make them to know Christ savingly, but 
 we can, and we ought to nurture them diligently in 
 the ways of Christ, and admonish them in the fear 
 of God. "Whatever we can do for them, either tem- 
 porally or spiritually, we are bound to do ; and when 
 we have done all, we must leave them to the Lord. 
 We must not repine, if we cannot mend their out- 
 ward circumstances ; for these are in God's disposal : 
 nor should we faithlessly murmur, if all our prayers 
 and diligence be lost for their spiritual good ; for, as 
 this is a gracious gift, we only seem to attribute too 
 much to our own powers and affections, when we 
 unduly lament that our children have not obtained 
 it by us. When we have prayed to God for them, 
 we must trust God with them, and wait the issue in 
 faith and patience. Nature will keep up our com- 
 mon endeavours, and grace will promote a thousand 
 and a thousand prayers. These, when put together, 
 will make up a good stock and foundation, and con- 
 sequently no bad inheritance for them. 
 
 There is a promise of blessing to more than " the 
 
267 
 
 third and fourth generation" of a Christian's off- 
 spring ; which love for them, and faith in the Pro- 
 miser, will ever be prompting him to sue out, that 
 they may obtain. I had rather be a good man's 
 child, covered by his prayers, than the son of the 
 first emperor in the world, undevoted and unblest. 
 
 Some that never had children, and others that 
 would be wiser than Solomon, or rather than God's 
 word itself, have written books to show, that chas- 
 tisements should be utterly excluded from education. 
 Doubtless, it requires prudence and temper to chas- 
 tise properly, and it ought to be done with a secret 
 looking to God for a blessing, as well as on any other 
 duty ; but those have either taken up false principles 
 of human nature, or have had but very little expe- 
 rience of it, who presume that it will do very well 
 without the fear of punishment, or that it can be 
 reasoned into all the irksome duties and toils of life. 
 Such methods, we know, will not restrain even grown 
 persons, who certainly can reason, and receive reason, 
 better than children. Corruption is to be checked 
 by all means ; and if the gentler kinds fail of effect, 
 as they will in the far greater part of instances, the 
 more severe must be used, but always without pas- 
 sion and in moderation. It should be understood 
 to be a parent's sad duty, which therefore can give 
 him no pleasure, but, on the contrary, pain and mor- 
 tification. When it is thus performed, it will not 
 easily be abused; when otherwise, it is not really 
 performed at all. The parent's ill conduct, in such 
 a case, deserves a severer chastisement from God, than 
 any that can be due to the misdemeanor of a child. 
 m 2 
 
26S 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 On the Duty of Children. 
 
 These are " to obey their parents in the Lord, 
 for this is right." Till children have learned obe- 
 dience, they have properly learned nothing, and will 
 probably be fit for nothing. 
 
 As they owe to their parents, under God, their 
 maintenance, protection, introduction to the duties 
 of life, and their very life itself, God hath laid it 
 upon them, as what is necessary in the order of his 
 providence, to honour and respect their parents. 
 Children, who transgress this order, rebel against 
 God. And it hath been matter of great concern to 
 many gracious persons, after they have been brought 
 to a true sense of things, that they have failed par- 
 ticularly in this just and important duty. 
 
 Their obedience is to be in the Lord, and for the 
 Lord's sake. This is well-pleasing to God, and 
 profitable for themselves. The only exemption is, 
 if parents are so ungracious and unjust, as to insist 
 upon any thing which God forbids, or to oppose any 
 thins; which God commands. Here the most duti- 
 ful children must disobey, and can plead God's own. 
 absolution for their conduct. 
 
 There is one great circumstance in life, which 
 often strains the bond of filial duty. This is mar- 
 riage. Children ought, if possible, to engage in 
 this state with the full blessing and consent of their 
 
269 
 
 parents. On the other hand, parents should never 
 constrain, and not always restrain, the affections of 
 their children. 
 
 The two trying cases are fortune and religion. 
 
 As to the former, the discretion of parents is 
 usually of great importance. Children are not to 
 follow their passions into ruin ; nor is it the duty of 
 their parents to consent to it. On the other hand, 
 mere lucre should not guide the parent's eye or mind, 
 but the nobler considerations of character, worth, and 
 piety. Where these are wanting, all the wealth in 
 the world is little better than a gilded curse. 
 
 As to religion, the unalterable rule for Christians 
 is, to " marry in the Lord." If a parent direct 
 otherwise, the command of God must first be re- 
 garded ; and though he may have a right to put a 
 negative perhaps upon almost any match, he cannot 
 have a right to command one which is contrary to the 
 express word of God. He likewise hath not a right 
 to sacrifice his child's natural affections in any mar- 
 riage, even where no objections can be made upon a 
 religious account ; because the peace and comfort of 
 natural life are concerned, and because the child must 
 be the sufferer here, and be exposed in the event to 
 some dangerous temptations. On the other hand, 
 (to put the last difficult case,) where the child hath 
 placed affections, in a manner that religion and all 
 other circumstances will justify, but, because of reli- 
 gion, the parent withholds consent — it will be the 
 best to try all means to gain that consent, to wait as 
 long as possible, and with as much patience as pos- 
 sible, for it; above all, to supplicate the Father of 
 
270 
 
 mercies to dispose the hearts of the parties concerned 
 aright, and not at last to venture on an act of such 
 apparent disobedience, but for fear of greater evils 
 than what may arise from the unreasonable obstinacy, 
 perverseness, or irreligion of the parent. The case 
 is so nice, and may so vary in its circumstances, that 
 the wisdom, uprightness, grace, and impartiality, of 
 the ablest Christian friends should be well consulted 
 upon the occasion. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 On the Duty of Christian Masters. 
 
 It is far more difficult rightly to command, than 
 dutifully to obey. To be a master and a Christian 
 at the same time, in the direction of worldly affairs, 
 requires more grace than men usually imagine. The 
 master may soon be acted, and people are commonly 
 very fond of acting this character, from the lust of 
 power which rages in corrupted nature : but to com- 
 mand, under a sense of God's authority, the things 
 which are just and equal, and not to be lifted up with 
 the pride and passion of pre-eminence — this is to give 
 a proof that the heart indeed lives as in God's pre- 
 sence, and that worldly superiority, which generally 
 begets insolence, can be maintained with true meek- 
 ness and humility. But how can he, whom grace 
 hath not made master of his own corruptions, expect 
 obedience from others with all readiness and sincerity? 
 
271 
 
 As in a higher case, so in this it may be asked of 
 every Christian master, " Who maketh thee to differ 
 from another ?" Surely God's providence never 
 raised men into power, that they might show their 
 pride only ; but to do good, and to carry on, as far as 
 their power may extend, the welfare of society. If 
 any people act otherwise, they must one day be deeply 
 convinced, that all the little distinctions of men have 
 no natural, though a necessary political reality in 
 them, and that there is one common Master in hea- 
 ven, with whom there is no such thing as respect of 
 persons. 
 
 Many professing masters are exceedingly deficient 
 in one great duty to their servants. They give them 
 perhaps plenty of bread, and furnish them well in 
 earthly things; but they neglect to hold out the best 
 of all subsistence, the bread of life, to their souls. 
 The omission of family-worship cannot be excused 
 on any account. This, (as one said,) like the hem 
 of a garment, keeps all things together, and prevents 
 other duties and affairs from ravelling out. Servants 
 cannot have grace, indeed, but by God's mercy ; but 
 they can easily see if their masters do not live gra- 
 ciously, and will readily notice it too ; nay, sometimes 
 make from their failures an apology, though a bad 
 apology, for themselves. If masters would live and 
 demean themselves like Christians indeed, and walk 
 in the fear of God, their servants would mend their 
 manners, if nothing more, and we should have fewer 
 complaints than we have, to the disgrace of religion, 
 and the discomfort of our lives. The wickedness of 
 superiors, like a contaminating disease, infects the 
 
272 
 
 ranks beneath them, and hath often brought a whole 
 society or nation to the pitch of destruction. 
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 On the Duty of Christian Servants. 
 
 A professing servant should get by heart the 
 following rule of the apostle, and in all his business 
 keep it in mind : " Servants be obedient to them that 
 are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and 
 trembling, in singleness of your heart, as unto Christ: 
 not with eye-service, as men-pleasers, but as the 
 servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the 
 heart; with good-will doing service, as to the Lord, 
 and not to men." 
 
 Our proud hearts do not naturally love obedience. 
 We would all be masters, and set up for ourselves ; 
 and if God suffered this, corrupt as we now are, we 
 should soon be undone. 
 
 Is the master a man of the world ? The Chris- 
 tian servant's light should so shine before him, that, 
 though he might hate him for his religion, he must 
 respect him for his diligence, dutifulness, uprightness, 
 and truth. Some masters have been won to God 
 by the gracious and upright conduct and conversation 
 of their servants ; and how do those servants live who 
 say, that they shall not be so blessed ? If the master 
 be harsh, it is not likely that a servant's sauciness 
 should reclaim his mind, or do good to himself, or 
 
273 
 
 bring honour to the cause of God. Let all be done 
 which can be done " without murmurings and dis- 
 putings;" and if there be no other remedy, it is 
 better to part than to commit the sins of impertinence, 
 or to live in the sins of anger and of strife. 
 
 Is the master a real Christian? The faithful 
 servant will render him double honour, and rejoice to 
 obey him on a double account ; both because Provi- 
 dence hath made such a one his master, and grace 
 his brother and friend. If he take any unhandsome 
 liberties on that account, forgetting his own place and 
 duty, he breaks the order and disposal of God, and 
 lays for his own mind a foundation of much uneasi- 
 ness. It is a sad mistake of their duty, when truly 
 serious servants imagine, that, by the grace of God, 
 they are to take up a new sort of natural boldness 
 towards their superiors, and that, instead of putting 
 on the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, they have 
 from grace a privilege to be insolent, froward, rough, 
 and disobedient, as though they believed, that rude- 
 ness or impertinence were distinguishing properties 
 of gospel-grace or gospel -liberty. But it is a proud 
 heart, that will not know or pay due respect to a su- 
 perior. What a wretched thing is it to be said in the 
 world, as it too often is, " I had rather have any kind 
 of servants than professors of religion, because they 
 are always lazy or unruly:" or, " I had rather have 
 any one for my master or mistress, than those who talk 
 about godliness ; they are always so gloomy, humor- 
 some, and perverse : in their places of worship they 
 seem saints ; but at home they are wolves and bears, 
 and very devils !" O this is a sad light indeed be- 
 m 3 
 
274 
 
 fore men ; or rather an unshining taper, that reeks 
 only in a smoke and a stink, for disgrace and annoy- 
 ance ! 
 
 I am sorry for the occasion to observe, that the 
 giving away without leave a master's property, whe- 
 ther meat, drink, clothing, &c. is really neither more 
 nor less than a species of robbery. It may be done 
 under the mistaken notion of charity ; but a theft, or 
 disallowed bounty, from another's property, can never 
 be real charity or goodness. It would be very easy, 
 though not safe, to be liberal in this way, with what 
 costs a person nothing ; but is the servant willing to 
 administer relief at his own expense ? If not, he is 
 guilty of purloining, which surely very ill suits the 
 character or profession of a Christian. He must be 
 just, before he can be truly generous. The like 
 remark will also extend to the waste, or idle applica- 
 tion, of a master's property, or the improper spend- 
 ing of his time ; all of which are paid for by the 
 master, and cannot be thrown away or mispent, with- 
 out injustice and sin. 
 
 The laws of this country, above all others, are so 
 much in favour of servants and the poor, that the 
 Christian servant is obliged, in gratitude both to God 
 and man, to conduct himself with the more zeal in 
 his service to both. Servants here are considered 
 by the laws as equally free in person with their mas- 
 ters, and are not to be defrauded or abused. How 
 then should the Christian bless God, that he hath 
 placed him in such a country as this, where the gos- 
 pel is freely preached and freely heard, and where he 
 can enjoy his conscience with comfort and liberty? 
 
27-5 
 
 If he hath more work than his master, (though that 
 is not always the case,) he hath less care, fewer dis- 
 tractions, and is more out of the way of many deceit- 
 ful and dangerous temptations. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 On the Christian's Duty in his Calling. 
 
 In the conduct of all things, whether spiritual or 
 temporal, a Christian is " called, not unto unclean- 
 ness, but unto holiness," and to be " blameless and 
 harmless, the son of God without rebuke, in the 
 midst of a crooked and perverse nation." The me- 
 thods and practices of evil men are to be no rule 
 with him ; but, on the contrary, his outward life and 
 conduct should be a luminous example unto them. 
 He should remember, that though they cannot see 
 or know his inward life or principle of action, yet 
 they are very able judges of the action itself, and 
 can easily discern whether his temper, honesty, sin- 
 cerity, goodness, and charity, be such as become his 
 profession. 
 
 The Christian's station, therefore, in this life, 
 should be carefully maintained for his Master's glory ; 
 for that is his chief business, not only in the church, 
 but in the shop, the field, the house, the closet, and 
 in all he hath and doth in the world; for which end 
 it is necessary that grace should come into and su- 
 perintend the whole. Be he rich or poor, high or 
 
276 
 
 low, if he live without grace in common life, he lives 
 poorly to God, if at all, in spirituals, and (to say the 
 best)' at a very cold and uncomfortable rate within 
 himself. That a Christian should think of getting 
 satisfaction or happiness out of the creatures without 
 God's blessing, argues a great want of faith and ex- 
 perience; and he cannot have this blessing, unless 
 grace attends him in his circumstances, and subjects 
 his will, his vocation, his industry, and all his carnal 
 affairs and affections, to God's glory. 
 
 A Christian is as much a man of grace at the 
 market or in the shop, as in the church or the closet. 
 He deals fairly and conscientiously, neither defraud- 
 ing in the nature, measure, or weight of commodi- 
 ties, nor taking base advantages of the ignorance of 
 others. The money gotten by fraud hath a curse, 
 which will either bring torment with it, or melt itself 
 away. There is a maxim, " Buy cheap and sell 
 dear :" and to carry this maxim on, men will wrongly 
 undervalue and discommend, saying, "It is naught, 
 naught," in order to defraud the seller of the just 
 worth ; and they will overprize, and put into a false 
 light, by a thousand false words, what they have to 
 part with, merely to take in the buyer. Thus, shop- 
 lies, as well as custom-house oaths, are become pro- 
 verbial, and therefore trivial, even with some who 
 should treat all such abominable practices with de- 
 testation. But how can he be thought an upright 
 man with God, or in the church, who can pick an- 
 other's pocket by language, which he knows to be 
 deceitful and unjust, in the poor concerns of this 
 world ? 
 
277 
 
 The putting double prices upon goods is also dis- 
 honourable and unworthy of a Christian. If a man 
 give the higher price for that which the seller can 
 and will afford at the lower, the seller is a thief and 
 a cheat, for all the money in the difference. The 
 law of man indeed will not lay hold of him ; but he 
 should ask himself, What is that gain worth, which 
 hath the curse of God upon it ? He may be sure 
 it hath not his blessing, because it is unclean and 
 unfair. For aught he knows, it may bring an evil 
 upon all his due profits, and lay the ground of much 
 future unhappiness, and perhaps of ruin. Would 
 he do such things if he were dying? How then 
 can he dare to attempt them, when he knows not but 
 that he may die in the doing them ? It is a laudable 
 custom, which some worthy persons have set up, to 
 put one fair sum upon their goods, and to take no 
 other. 
 
 With respect to commodities of fluctuating value, 
 the market must be the standard of demand : it being 1 
 understood, that the market is neither enhanced nor 
 depressed by any known artifice or design. 
 
 In all cases of traffic and business, every man 
 oweth justice to himself, and justice to others ; and 
 it is his duty to defraud neither. A Christian must 
 be an honest man, and will not wilfully, knowingly, 
 and perseveringly do wrong: and therefore, if any 
 person will thus do and continue to do wrong, as he 
 cannot deserve the name of an honest man, so much 
 less that of a Christian. " The counsels of the 
 wicked" only " are deceit." 
 
 Whenever doubts arise upon any subject of this 
 
2?8 
 
 kind, let the Christian do as the Psalmist did — " set 
 the Lord always before him." If a man walk closely 
 in the fear of God, and set up his Saviour for his 
 example, he will very rarely, through ignorance, be 
 guilty of injustice to man. 
 
 I believe, further, that a Christian is conscien- 
 tiously, though not legally bound, to supply all defi- 
 ciencies in former failures, whenever Providence may 
 afford him the power. That Christian seems a very 
 strange one to me, who needs the chain of statutes 
 to bind him to duty ; and, therefore, though it may 
 be his case, and the case of many an honest man, 
 to become a bankrupt, but certainly a credit to no 
 man; yet when his certificate is granted, and he is 
 thereby become clear of the compulsive force of the 
 laws, how can he delay, with a clear conscience, to 
 make good to the utmost any just losses, which 
 others have sustained by him, as soon afterwards as 
 God shall have given him the ability ? I have heard 
 of some, and these too were mere men of the world, 
 who, recovering from ruin, had the magnanimity and 
 good sense (for indeed it is both when understood) 
 to discharge all remainders to creditors, and, with 
 those remainders, the interest accumulated upon 
 them, — and shall one, who calls himself a believer 
 in Jesus, and a child of God, neglect, in a similar 
 case, to do both himself and his Christian profession 
 so beautiful an honour, only by doing strict justice 
 to those unfortunate sufferers, who, by their confi- 
 dence in his integrity, have every sort of claim to 
 expect it of him? I should doubt the faith of the 
 
279 
 
 professor who could hesitate a moment to own or to 
 do so plain a duty. 
 
 There are also some professions, which no real 
 Christian can dare to follow. It is not necessary to 
 name them, because they fall under the stroke of 
 one general rule, which every believer in Christ must 
 approve. The trade, the calling, or the gain, which 
 cannot be prayed over, be lived upon in faith, and 
 carried on with thanksgiving, is, like Achan's golden 
 wedge and Babylonish garment, a curse to the owner, 
 and an abomination to the Lord. On the other 
 hand, a small thing, which the righteous hath, is 
 better than great riches of many wicked; and he is 
 much safer and happier too, who, with grace in his 
 heart, hath no money in his purse, than he, who, 
 with thousands of gold and silver, hath the wrath of 
 God along with them. 
 
 It is the privilege and duty of a Christian to com- 
 mit all his present concerns to the favour and bless- 
 ing of God. He that prays, as well as works, loses 
 no time by his prayers. He that works, but doth 
 not pray, may often expect to labour in vain, as well 
 as in sin, and to bring his affairs to no good end. 
 " Duty hath much present comfort, and no curse in 
 it;" which consideration alone is worth all the care 
 of a Christian. 
 
280 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 That Duties are not to be measured by the success 
 which mayfollovj them, but by the word of God only. 
 
 We have much self-love and self-righteousness 
 in our fallen nature, which cause us to expect suc- 
 cess from our spiritual or temporal duties, and to be 
 mortified when we do not find it. Whereas, if our 
 minds were perfectly given to the will of God, or in 
 this frail state could be so given, that will would be 
 perfectly our own. 
 
 Let not the Christian grieve without hope, if, 
 after all his attention to duty in his common concerns, 
 they may not seem to prosper in his hands; for, 
 however they seem, they do prosper for his real 
 good, and especially if his heart and soul are drawn 
 by any disappointments the closer to God. " God's 
 promises are not to be measured by his providences, 
 but his providences by his promises." The Chris- 
 tian therefore must keep in the straight path of duty, 
 and leave it to his heavenly Father to appear faithful 
 in the end, who can at no time be otherwise. 
 
 In religious duties, such as prayer and exhorta- 
 tion to his family, the Christian may likewise not 
 always be attended with success; but is he, or can 
 he dare, to stop their performance upon that account? 
 He should remember what God hath appointed him, 
 and he should pray to do it ; but as to the event, 
 this doth not belong to him. It is God's concern 
 
281 
 
 entirely. He may indeed rejoice, when he seeth 
 the hand of God ; but he must trust, and be doing, 
 when he seeth it not. All will be found well with 
 him sooner or later ; and that surely is sufficient for 
 his present comfort. 
 
 It hath been a sore trial to many faithful minis- 
 ters, when they have worked hard in God's vineyard 
 and have not sped. But it is scarcely necessary to 
 observe to these, that they shall be blessed in their 
 labour, if not from it. They feel the comfort of 
 God's promise and presence, or they would go on 
 more heavily still. It is an old complaint, " I have 
 stretched forth my hands all the day long to a re- 
 bellious and gainsaying people." So Noah was a 
 preacher of righteousness for 120 years, while the 
 ark was in building ; but though it doth not appear 
 that he wrought upon one soul, he was not, how- 
 ever, the less blessed of God. Our Lord's apostles 
 converted more than himself abundantly ; and pro- 
 bably for this reason, that his faithful ministers 
 should not afterwards be too much discouraged, 
 when they see not an immediate or extensive fruit 
 of their labours. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 On the Deportment of a Christian to others. 
 
 In the first place, " as much as lieth in him," 
 the Christian " will, if possible, live in peace with 
 
282 
 
 all men." That blessed Dove, the Holy Spirit, 
 harboureth not with contention and strife, but loveth 
 peace, concord, and unity, yea, and unanimity too. 
 It is by him that men are of one mind in their own 
 house, and in the house of God. 
 
 As the Christian is no brawler, so, in his habit 
 of life, he cannot be an arrogant, uplifted, conceited, 
 and presuming person; because such a one, in this 
 arrogant world, cannot possibly be free from brawl- 
 ing. 
 
 Not being a coxcomb or forward person, the 
 Christian hath nothing on which to plume himself 
 for the admiration of others. He knows that the 
 applause of men will not follow the true servant of 
 Christ, and that, if it could, it is too dangerous a 
 thing for him to meddle with, whose inward selfish- 
 ness costs him a constant hard labour to subdue it. 
 
 He values men, and desires to value them more, 
 as God values them. The family of the faithful are 
 his relations for eternity ; and he will spiritually es- 
 teem these above all other persons. He is to live 
 with them in glory. " By tins shall all men know 
 that ye are my disciples," saith Christ, " if ye have 
 love one towards another." 
 
 His natural love to his natural friends, is not ex- 
 tinguished by the love of God, but elevated, purified, 
 and increased. He sees more of the real worth of 
 their souls, and is more anxious accordingly for their 
 best interest, their immortal welfare. Those among 
 them who have obtained like mercy with himself, 
 are more especially endeared. Those who want 
 this mercy have his fervent prayers and compassion, 
 
283 
 
 because they want it. When he cannot love his 
 friends for Christ's sake, he will not cease to love 
 them for their own. 
 
 Railing and evil speaking he will cordially detest. 
 The good he knows of others he will rejoice to men- 
 tion, and the harm (unless for prevention of further 
 harm) he will study to conceal. It is a good rule 
 never to speak of men's faults to others, till we have 
 first and faithfully spoken of them to the offenders 
 themselves. This would prevent a world of mischief 
 and slander, and perhaps save many from a disgrace- 
 ful persisting in sin. 
 
 He will esteem grace, and even common virtues 
 and worth of character, above all manner of riches. 
 A rich wicked man is, in a Christian's eye, some- 
 what like a body bloated with unwholesome fat and 
 disease ; not very pleasant to look upon, but much 
 to be pitied and deplored. O what a sordid and 
 dangerous evil is fulness of bread, without emptiness 
 of self! The Christian will behave to such men, 
 with the decency that becomes himself, and with the 
 respect due to their station: at the same time, he 
 cannot be partaker of their sins ; nor ought he to 
 miss the opportunity, if Providence give it him, to 
 set before them better riches than they now enjoy, 
 even God's " durable riches and righteousness." 
 Though few of this sort do " put their necks to the 
 work of the Lord," (Neh. iii. 5.) or shall be saved, 
 and it is only possible with God to save any of them ; 
 yet the Christian will be more tender and compas- 
 sionate to them upon this very account. If they are 
 to have their whole "portion in this life," should not 
 
284. 
 
 the anger, that may be felt from their insolence and 
 pride, be turned into pity and prayer; since their 
 riches will soon be corrupted, and not an atom of 
 their pomp can follow them ? 
 
 With regard to the poor, the Christian cannot, as 
 a Christian, be wanting in commiseration or relief, 
 so far as it lies in his power. The affliction of their 
 circumstances will reach his heart most, when his 
 hand can do least to abate it. No real Christian 
 can despise the poor. He that doeth this, is under 
 a worse poverty than theirs. " God hath chosen 
 the poor of this world to be rich in faith, and heirs 
 of his kingdom :" how then can those among the 
 poor who are thus blessed, receive contempt from 
 any of God's children ? Or how can the poor at 
 large be treated with insolence and cruelty, when 
 the Lord hath declared that he " will avenge their 
 cause ?" If a poor man be wicked, he is doubly en- 
 titled to pity ; because he hath nothing in this world, 
 and worse than nothing in view for the world to 
 come. If i poor man be gracious, he is doubly an 
 object of love ; because he is now under many trials 
 in the flesh, which the wealthy do not feel, and yet 
 is dear to God, as his own blessed child and future 
 inheritor of his glory. 
 
 To men of every rank and station the Christian 
 will endeavour to render their due : " Custom to 
 whom custom, fear to whom fear, honour to whom 
 honour." Let his own situation in this world be 
 what it may, he is the only gentleman in heart, 
 whatever others may seem to be in outward grimace 
 and manners : " He is gentle, showing all kindness 
 
285 
 
 to all men." This is the golden polish ; and, with- 
 out this, the rest is nothing but daubing or tinsel. 
 
 It will appear from hence, that the Christian school 
 teach eth the most punctual good manners of any in 
 the world. It inculcates laws of the purest honour 
 and integrity, and enforces every moral obligation, 
 not by a harsh and unpleasant constraint, but by 
 the far more prevailing and happy impressions of 
 duty and love. It not only insists upon a decent 
 outside, but leads to the correction of the heart, and 
 to the strictest adjustment of all things into a right 
 order within. No lax morals, no licentious conduct, 
 no ill words, no indecent looks, no, nor yet one evil 
 thought, are tolerated for a moment to the disciple 
 of Jesus Christ. He would be, if he could, and he 
 grieves because he cannot be, in this life, all holiness 
 and perfection. Thus, though no part or cause of 
 his final salvation depends upon what is done by him, 
 or what is done in him ; yet he desires to " abound 
 in all the fruits of faith, which are by Christ Jesus, 
 to the praise and glory of God." And if these things 
 be so, how can any presume to say, " That the doc- 
 trines of grace are pregnant with immorality !" It 
 is the ignorance or relinquishment of these doctrines, 
 which, like the absence of the sun, occasions most of 
 the moral darkness, together with the speculative 
 and practical atheism, or philosophisms, that now 
 obscure and torment the world. 
 
286 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 The Christian's conduct to the tempted and distressed 
 in mind. 
 
 The members of the same body have a natural 
 care and sympathy for each other ; and so have the 
 members of the church of Christ, which is his spiri- 
 tual body. They cannot know of the sorrow and 
 trial's of a brother's soul, without some concern of 
 spirit, or feeling of compassion. 
 
 Godly conference and discourse are often rendered 
 the means of comfort and relief. The Lord indeed 
 usually works in this way, that his people may see 
 it to be their greater privilege and duty thus to help 
 each other's faith, and so be joint partakers of his 
 joy. This mutual regard and assistance tend also 
 to unite the flock of Christ, and to make them more 
 and more dear to each other. For want of this, 
 many congregations are like scattered sheep, unafFec- 
 tionate, disregarding, and careless of their brethren's 
 true happiness and prosperity. 
 
 Whatever be the trial or the disorder, the word 
 and promises of God are the appointed help and re- 
 medy, which must chiefly be used and applied. If 
 God's word cannot relieve the troubled mind, vain 
 indeed must be the word of man. But experience 
 shows, that this word, through the aid of divine 
 srrace, hath been blessed to the souls of his distressed 
 people, when all other helps have failed. 
 
287 
 
 And as the blessing must descend from above, so 
 all discourses, if not begun, should at least be ended 
 in prayer. Very often in the prayer, the trouble 
 shall be lightened, which the previous discourse did 
 not seem in the least to remove. 
 
 There is not a possible case of distress into which 
 a believer may fall, but there is something in the 
 Holy Scripture which can meet it. It is the wisdom, 
 then, of a gracious person, in all conferences with 
 the afflicted, to have a store of suitable passages with 
 him or in his mind, that out of it he may be able to 
 draw what may tend, under God's blessing, to remove 
 or to lessen the trial. 
 
 Where the body as well as the soul is affected, 
 proper remedies must be administered to both, and 
 especially to the latter, that it may be encouraged to 
 support the frailer and the weaker part. Generally, 
 in cases of sickness, the mind above all things must 
 be attended to ; for, if that be well, it will not only 
 j enable the person to bear the other better, but it will 
 have this noble cordial within, that " all shall be well 
 at the last." It is an abominable wickedness in some 
 physicians, that they order all religious discourse out 
 of the chambers of the sick and the dying, lest it should 
 lower the spirits, as they think, and perplex the mind. 
 Are the dying, then, to be deceived into death, if 
 they are ignorant of God and salvatiou ? Or, if they 
 know God, are they to have no comfort of his word, 
 when they have most occasion for it ? It is equally 
 wicked to flatter with life, when death itself is at the 
 ery door. I remember a man who seemed to have 
 some serious impressions from religious discourse, 
 
288 
 
 under a near prospect of dying ; but, when a deceiv- 
 ing physician had assured him of his recovery, he 
 threw away all concerns for heaven, received with 
 disgust any mention of the state of his soul, and was 
 found with cards and idle company in the very even- 
 ing of that night in which he fell speechless and died. 
 Did not such a physician contribute what he could 
 to the murder of a soul ? And is not this the worst, 
 because the most lasting and irreparable cruelty ? 
 
 Certainly religious discourses, at such seasons, 
 should not be thrust in at random, but by discreet 
 persons, or (if they can be had) by pious ministers, 
 who will neither be too long at one time in their 
 attentions, nor offer what may be unsuitable or im- 
 pertinent. 
 
 When the soul is relieved and consoled, every one 
 knows how much it will sometimes contribute to the 
 health of the body. But if it be the will of God to 
 remove the party from this world, surely in the acts 
 of faith, and of the comforts which faith brings, it is 
 the more meet to ascend up to another. Why should 
 a Christian go off thoughtless and sad to celebrate 
 the marriage-supper in heaven ? 
 
 All trials and troubles are meant to take out the 
 dross from the Christian. By grace they have this 
 effect, more or less, throughout his life : and his 
 various distresses likewise are exactly proportioned to 
 his need of them. The last refinement is in death, 
 in which he is perfectly cleansed and purified from 
 every corruption, and removed to enjoy that pure 
 state, which is equally void of sorrow and sin through- 
 out eternity. 
 
289 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 The Christian's conduct to Old Age. 
 
 It is the Lord's express command, " Thou shalt 
 rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face 
 of the old man, and fear thy God." The experi- 
 ence and gravity, the judgment and wisdom, fre- 
 quently found in old age, demand veneration ; and 
 even where these are in some measure wanting, the 
 infirmities and inquietudes of that state, call upon 
 people of younger years to abound in compassion 
 towards them. 
 
 I know not how it may be with others ; but for 
 myself I ever loved the company and conversation of 
 the ancient, preferably to the gay humours of the 
 young, and have been exceedingly delighted at their 
 explanations and informations of circumstances and 
 events, which no books could possibly have given me. 
 
 To this day, I cannot meet an aged person, espe- 
 cially if he be infirm, without feeling some kind emo- 
 tions of heart towards him; and these are always 
 heightened by an anxious pity, if it appear that he 
 hath not yet felt any true concern for himself. All 
 this may be mere nature, it is true ; but, however, I 
 do not wish to suppress it. 
 
 The grey hairs of the aged, those " church-yard 
 
 flowers," (as they have been named,) call aloud upon 
 
 them, and through them to all men, " Prepare to 
 
 meet your God." They are remembrancers, to the 
 
 N 9 
 
290 
 
 eye and to the heart, of death at hand, and of eter- 
 nity to come. 
 
 But the ancient Christian is especially to be con- 
 sidered as a venerable pile, respecting his soul, built 
 up in a long course of grace for the habitation of 
 God himself. The fathers in Christ, having known 
 Him who is from the beginning, are to be revered, 
 consulted, and if need be, defended, by the younger 
 brethren upon all occasions. 
 
 The apostle, encouraging this tribute of respect 
 to the aged, exhorts, " Rebuke not an elder, but 
 entreat him as a father," even when his conduct 
 should be such, as is not to be approved. If these 
 have tried grace and long experience, they have also 
 increasing natural weakness and numberless infirmi- 
 ties, by which it will be no wonder if in some in- 
 stances they should be overborne. Could a young 
 man, with a very large portion of grace, change places 
 with them for a day, it is to be doubted whether he 
 would manage the case any better ; though it is not 
 to be doubted, that this experience might teach him 
 extraordinary commiseration in future. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 The Christian's conduct to Youth. 
 
 A heathen could say, " That the greatest re- 
 spect is due unto children." He meant, that nothing 
 should pass before their sight, which might either 
 lead them to vices, or encourage vices in them. 
 
291 
 
 There is no need of gloom in any of the things 
 of God. True seriousness wants it not, and is very 
 foreign to it in its nature. It is particularly unne- 
 cessary to indulge this sullen and morose humour of 
 the natural heart (for it is seldom little better) be- 
 fore youth or children. There is an easy cheerful- 
 ness and benevolence, remote from all silly levity, 
 and highly consistent with grace and the best good 
 sense, which ought to reside in a Christian's heart, 
 and which he might exhibit particularly upon occa- 
 sion to younger persons. They are to be drawn by 
 the " cords of a man," that is, with natural affections; 
 and though it is not in human power to render them 
 truly religious, yet surely religion ought not to ap- 
 pear before them, or before any body else, as a poor, 
 miserable, dreadful thing, like a spectre or ghost, to 
 frighten them away from her. They should see, as 
 well as hear, by the example of real Christians, that 
 the ways of religion, or true wisdom, which is the same 
 thing, " are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are 
 peace." Sourness may indeed be found very plenti- 
 fully in nature ; but there is not one single particle 
 of it in all the being or exercise of grace. On the 
 contrary, its tendency is to correct the natural mo- 
 roseness of the human heart. 
 
 The Psalmist gives this mild and gentle invita- 
 tion, " Come, ye children, hearken unto me : I will 
 teach you the fear of the Lord." But wherefore ? 
 That they might see good, and partake of the bless- 
 ings which the word of the Lord most amply sets 
 before them. 
 
 Our Lord's benevolence to children is above all 
 n2 
 
292 
 
 comment. He gave an example of good-will and 
 tenderness, in this respect, which not the greatest 
 and wisest of his disciples can think himself too wise 
 or too great to follow. 
 
 The sincerest faithfulness to their souls is consis- 
 tent with the greatest good nature to their persons ; 
 nay, we cannot be truly good-natured to them, un- 
 less we are faithful. Instruction, even in the best 
 things, may be set before them in an inviting form, 
 without the least deviation from the soundness of 
 truth ; and, by a little gracious skill, they may per- 
 haps be led to perceive how deep an interest and 
 concern they have in them. If God is pleased to 
 second the instruction, by giving them a true sight 
 of themselves ; it is a known case, that they will love 
 and honour those who gave the instruction as long 
 as they live. And if God doth not bless it to the 
 desired end, yet the piety and well-meant kindness 
 of the instructors will not fail of their approbation and 
 respect ; for none can choose but love those who 
 show any real or disinterested regard for themselves. 
 Besides, who can tell that the seed now sown in 
 early age, though it seem buried and forgotten for 
 many years, may not, in the secret workings of God, 
 be brought forward into life at some future time ? 
 There have been instances of persons, who were 
 favoured with good instructions in younger days, and 
 who appeared to have forgotten God, their instruc- 
 tors, themselves, and every thing else that was good, 
 for a very long portion of their life ; but who after- 
 wards were blessed and made happy, through grace, 
 in the very recollection of those things, which, like 
 
293 
 
 bread upon the waters, seemed to have been lost, but 
 which were found, and found with great advantage, 
 after many days. 
 
 Sin may be checked, nay punished, and yet the 
 sinner be loved. The sinner shall love in return, 
 when he perceives that love occasioned the correc- 
 tion, or rather, that there would have been no cor- 
 rection but from love. It is the same in a higher 
 case : " Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth :" 
 and he will not do this, but for those who are truly 
 his sons. 
 
 It is very much their own fault, if there be not 
 great weight in the conduct of parents and friends 
 with young persons and children. These, it should 
 be remembered, hear their words ; but they watch 
 their example. If the doctrine and life be the same 
 thing, they will regard the former for the sake of the 
 latter with reverence. If the preceptor divide them, 
 it is usual for them to despise both, and to treat him 
 with censure or derision into the bargain. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 On the Disposal of Property. 
 
 Some people delay the testamentary disposal of 
 their effects, till the time of sickness or prospect of 
 death ; when the mind, if capable of reflection, which 
 is not always the case, should surely be engaged al- 
 together in eternal affairs; and, therefore, for this 
 
294 
 
 and other reasons, they are either able to make none 
 at all, or none with suitable judgment and delibera- 
 tion. The folly and cruelty of this conduct, as it 
 respects either a man's friends or himself, cannot 
 escape the censure of heaven and earth. " Set thine 
 house in order," is a divine command, in the pre- 
 paration for eternity : and the laws of all countries 
 solemnly respect this final instance of attention to 
 social duties. 
 
 There are those who make arbitrary, or capricious 
 bestowments, slighting the rules of God's word, the 
 proportional claims of nature, and those reasonable 
 human prescriptions which are founded upon them, 
 and which none but very strong causes, such as the 
 wickedness, idiocy, or certain misapplications of the 
 parties expectant can properly set aside. Such seem 
 to forget, that being only stewards, and not absolute 
 proprietors, they are as accountable for the disposal 
 of their temporal goods, as for the acquisition of 
 them. 
 
 Others are exceedingly liberal in bequests to public 
 or private charities, who would spare little or nothing 
 during their own life, or, in other words, from them- 
 selves. These pompous bestowments are but too 
 often " the painted sepulchres of alms," raised up by 
 covetousness for a worthless glory : and if there be 
 living and lawful heirs, or unexceptionable kindred, 
 the whole is done at their expense, not the testator's, 
 who has presumed to misapply what he could no 
 longer grasp, and what therefore could be no longer 
 his own, and to rob his friends for the sound of a 
 name, which, in such a case, had been less disgraced 
 if entirely forgotten. 
 
295 
 
 If a Christian should set the Lord always before 
 him, he is especially called to recollect his presence 
 in a business, where he may be said to be acting 
 after his death, and to be affecting very materially 
 the future actions and interests of others. When 
 his will is in force, he himself is at the bar of God, 
 accounting for its principle and effects. He should 
 therefore renounce all humours, and, in the most so- 
 lemn frame of a religious mind, ask himself — " Sup- 
 pose I were standing before the Divine Majesty, 
 would I devise what he committed to my charge 
 exactly as I have now devised it ?" The answer of 
 a good conscience, and of a sound mind, will gener- 
 ally exclude all foolish or perverse partialities, and 
 determine what is honourable for the Christian, and 
 right for those he leaves behind him. 
 
 Where there are no other proper relations, or just 
 claimants, people, at least pious people, may equitably 
 dispose of their worldly matters with no other re- 
 straints but those of reason and religion. It would 
 not be unseemly for persons, in such circumstances, 
 to bequeath their property either to pious friends, 
 who may receive or do good with it, or to pious in- 
 stitutions, where it will be done ; guarding, however, 
 against idle ostentation, or the vanity of earthly fame. 
 It would be poor, in a good man's view, to have this 
 for his motive or reward. The distinguished Chris- 
 tian, whose honourable name is remembered near the 
 front of these papers, and shall be remembered for 
 ever in a way very superior to the words or memory 
 of man, was a signal example of the widest bene- 
 volence, united, wherever the case would admit of 
 
296 
 
 it, with the closest and most humble concealment. 
 Large sums of money were distributed through va- 
 rious channels, to thousands of distressed persons, 
 who never knew, and, perhaps, never heard of, the 
 principal instrument of their relief. He seemed to 
 have a just fear, if not abhorrence, of that dangerous 
 applause, which all sorts of people are ready enough 
 to bestow on persons of this happy character, whe- 
 ther or not they are solicitous to follow their example. 
 It was God who gave him the affluent ability ; and 
 he conferred a greater gift, when he gave him the 
 heart to employ that ability, so entirely to the divine 
 glory, and so diffusively to the good of men. It is 
 possible, indeed, for but very few to extend them- 
 selves according to his measure ; but this is encour- 
 aging to every one, who hath first a willing mind, that 
 the performance " is accepted according to what a 
 man hath, and not according to what he hath not ;" 
 and, therefore, it may not be improper, according to 
 this rule, and their own measure ; to remind profes- 
 sors of the true religion, that their Lord himself hath 
 said, " Go and do likewise." 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 On the Death of Relatives and Friends. 
 
 It was the saying of a man, who had lost his 
 children, and all his substance, and who found not 
 one true friend to offer him the least real comfort — 
 
297 
 
 " Naked came I into the world, and naked shall I go 
 out : the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; 
 blessed be the name of the Lord." 
 
 This is the resignation of a believer. He refers 
 every thing to the will and work of God; and, hav- 
 ing nothing of his own but sin, and nothing to lose 
 by death but sin, all he hath, being by bounty and 
 favour, should be freely offered up to the disposal of 
 the Giver. This consideration, indeed, if by itself 
 and alone, perhaps would not satisfy him; but there is 
 another, which ought, and, being set home upon his 
 heart by grace, most certainly will : " All providences, 
 whether pleasant or trying, shall work together for 
 good to them that love and fear God." When 
 God loves, and loves for the best end ; and when 
 God contrives, and contrives only the best means, 
 why is the mind of any Christian overcharged with 
 disquietude and lamentation, with murmuring and 
 sorrow ? Doth he not as much as say by it, " Fa- 
 ther, not thy will, but my own, be done ?" 
 
 " I have lost a friend," says some anxious mind. 
 But who took that friend? Was it not the God 
 who gave him? And hath he taken more than his 
 own ? And, if a pious friend, hath he not removed 
 him to the best advantage ? And is it not thy great 
 privilege, after the enjoyment of such a one in this 
 deplorable world, to live and be with him again, not 
 here, but in a better? Besides, Christian, thou 
 hast neither lost thy God nor thy friend: no, nor 
 yet will they ever lose thee. Thy friend, at the 
 utmost, is but surrendered, not sunk ; lent, not lost, 
 and shall be found again with advantage. Pray then 
 n 3 
 
298 
 
 against the over-strong impressions of carnal sense ; 
 for all this is the striving of animal life, of mere flesh 
 and blood, against the Lord ; and desire thou to find 
 thy will in the divine will alone. Be silent when it 
 strikes, contented when it denies, thankful when it 
 gives, resigned when it takes away. It is not the 
 gold in the furnace which bubbles and froths up- 
 wards, but the dross and the scum. 
 
 " I have lost a child," says another. But ask 
 thou, Who hath found him ? Is it not that gracious 
 Redeemer, who called little children unto himself 
 when upon earth, and who gave them the highest of 
 benedictions? Hath not this child escaped a thou- 
 sand evils, and miseries, and sins, which it must have 
 undergone or committed, had it lived longer among 
 the miserable sinners of this world ? and doth it not 
 enjoy unutterable happiness with thine own best 
 Friend, with whom also thou thyself hopest to live 
 for ever? And is it worthy of thy love to thy child, 
 thus excessively to bemoan its deliverance from grief, 
 and its possession of peace? Or rather, is it not 
 the selfish working of thine own too much impas- 
 sioned heart, which lamenteth its own loss in the 
 flesh, or seeketh its own pleasure more than thy 
 child's happiness, or its own will more than God's? 
 I believe, if thou examinest closely, thou wilt find 
 something of this within thee : but, however, be it 
 what it may, it ought not to be there. It is no 
 fruit of faith ; and it can render no profit or comfort 
 to thy soul. 
 
 " I have lost a wife or a husband, the very desire 
 of mine eyes, the outward comfort of my life, and 
 
299 
 
 my greatest outward support." I would not say, 
 Do not feel any grief, but do not grieve beyond 
 measure. When Lazarus died, even Jesus wept. 
 Nature may suffer for its own losses : it may suffer 
 for the losses of others ; and in many cases it is de- 
 cent to feel, and charitable to sympathize ; but nature, 
 if alone, is impatient and blind, especially in spiritual 
 things, and makes all its reckonings from the out- 
 ward senses. To say to nature, that grace gains 
 where she loses, will never comfort her ; and to say 
 to persons who are at any time greatly under the af- 
 fections of nature, or more under her impressions 
 than under those of grace, that their souls may profit 
 where their bodies have lost, will be dull news, which 
 then, at least, can scarce find a hearing. The ap- 
 peal must be made to grace itself; and nature, if not 
 quite shut out, must at least stand nearer the door. 
 As grace becomes strengthened and quickened, na- 
 ture will be subdued and quieted, from her tumult 
 and sorrow. And, therefore, under these trials it 
 is, that it may chiefly be seen in believers, how 
 strong or weak their faith is in the Lord. I knew a 
 pious and excellent woman, now with God, who, with 
 as much natural tenderness of heart as ever mortal 
 creature had, and with as much affection for her 
 husband as perhaps it is possible for human nature to 
 feel for one every way worthy of her, received the 
 account of his sickness and death without a murmur 
 or a groan, and with only some silent tears, which 
 showed the greatness of her natural loss, the sense 
 of her partner's gain, and the strong and lively hope 
 which filled her soul of living with him again in a 
 
300 
 
 blissful eternity. I saw this amiable and beautiful 
 example of the power of grace, and was convinced by 
 it, how much above all sickness and feebleness of 
 nature it can rise, and triumph, and glorify God. 
 Christian, couldst thou have seen this gracious in- 
 stance as I saw it, it would have taught thee upon 
 fact, how to mourn and bewail the same kind of loss, 
 and how to live upon God; not without a feeling, 
 for that is brutal insensibility, but without being 
 stunned or stupified in the use of grace by the mere 
 feelings of nature. 
 
 But excellent as this example is,* thou and I have 
 a more sure word of testimony to trust in, that we 
 may get the better of our natural losses and sorrows. 
 God, who gathereth all the fathers, will gather us 
 ere long to the fathers in his glory. If our rela- 
 tives, our dearest relatives, be dead as to this world, 
 they now thank God that they are so ; and we may 
 be reminded of the promise of our gracious Saviour, 
 which assures us, that respecting our souls and the 
 souls of all the faithful, they never shall, they never 
 can, so much as see or " taste of death." 
 
 Why then should we sorrow as those who have 
 no hope ? We ought to be ashamed of our selfish 
 grief, and to beseech of God that he would at least 
 turn it into tranquil resignation, if not into praises 
 and joy. God hath wonderfully supported his peo- 
 ple in all their extremities ; and, if thou art one of 
 them, why not thee ? The youngest child may 
 
 * The late Mrs. Talbot, widow of the Rev. William Talbot, 
 ;Yicar of St. Giles, Reading. 
 
301 
 
 claim his father's bounty and blessing, though he may 
 not enjoy so large a portion as the first-born. Trust 
 then in the Lord; and entreat him to still in thy 
 heart all the passionate and perplexing tempests of 
 disordered nature. 
 
 The intended effect of these solemn dispensations 
 to thyself is, to wean thee from time, and to set thy 
 face towards heaven. There thou hast many friends 
 indeed, and one great Friend above all, who can 
 never be lost ; nor can the others, when met, be se- 
 parated from thee again. They are thy friends in 
 that holy and unchanging region, not for such a 
 shadow of a moment as thy time is here, but for a 
 blissful and boundless eternity. With what tran- 
 sport shalt thou one day ascend to them ! With 
 what ccstacy will they all unite to receive thee ! 
 The very foresight of this joy throws into contempt 
 all the poor affairs of this world. But O, what shall 
 the possession do ! Could the possibility of descend- 
 ing again to earth, as earth now is, enter the views 
 of the saints in glory, it would throw a damp into 
 heaven itself, and beggar their unspeakable joys. 
 And yet this is almost, if not quite, the wish and de- 
 sire of every one who murmurs at the departure of 
 Christian friends ; or who would, if they could, bring 
 their souls back again, contrary to their heavenly in- 
 terest, into mouldering lumps of clay. 
 
 It was a noble saying of one, over a dear departed 
 friend — " There he lies, (says he,) and with him all 
 my worldly comfort ; but yet, if the moving a straw 
 would bring him to life again, without the will of 
 
302 
 
 my God, I would not be the mover of that straw for 
 a thousand worlds." 
 
 My dear fellow-Christian, mayest thou be like- 
 minded ; and, instead of too much bewailing the de- 
 parture of friends to heaven, let it be one great ob- 
 ject of thy life and faith to follow them thither, that 
 thou mayest enjoy, together with them, the common 
 portion of the Redeemed, even the everlasting inheri- 
 tance of the saints in light ! 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 The Recollection of this Third Part in Prayer to 
 God. 
 
 my heavenly Father, when I calmly look back 
 upon my conduct to others in this world, and con- 
 sider how greatly I have failed in all my known du- 
 ties to men, against thy holy word, and against the 
 peace of my soul, I am humbled to the dust before 
 thee. I have nothing to say for myself, but, with 
 thy contrite prophet, " Unclean ! Unclean !" 
 
 1 have not loved my country as I ought, because 
 I have not prayed for its best welfare as I ought. 
 Intent enough I have been upon its vain-glory, its 
 outward pomp, its carnal dignity, and its national 
 prosperity; but O, how little have I been importu- 
 nate with thee for the greatest of all blessings, that 
 religion and piety might flourish in the land, with- 
 
303 
 
 out which no true happiness or welfare can really be 
 found ! 
 
 I humbly implore thy blessing upon my sovereign, 
 his family, and his government ; beseeching thee to 
 grant, with all outward good, the inward mercies of 
 thy grace, and, in thy due time, the life for ever- 
 more. Pardon me also for any failures of my duty 
 on this account. 
 
 In obeying those whom thy providence hath set 
 over me, O teach me to see how I may best obey 
 thee, and glorify thy goodness for a just government, 
 good laws, and the valuable liberties I enjoy. If 
 those in authority seem to fall into errors, (for what 
 man is he that sinneth not?) keep my tongue from 
 reviling, and direct my heart unto praying for them, 
 that thy wisdom may rectify what human ability 
 could not apprehend or foresee. Deliver me from 
 sedition and selfishness, from all the evils of political 
 passion and resentment ; and give peace, I beseech 
 thee, in my time, O Lord ! 
 
 Enable me to conduct myself towards thy church, 
 thy ministers, and all who profess to know thee, so 
 as to give no just cause of offence in any thing to 
 any man. I pray thee to heal all divisions among 
 thy children, which may bring sad and deep reproach 
 on thy gospel, or lay dismal snares and stumbling- 
 blocks in the ways of men. O that they might love 
 and pity each other, considering what infinitely ten- 
 der pity and love thou hast manifested for them. 
 
 Help, O help me to fill up all my relations in life 
 to thy honour and glory, and forgive me in the 
 numberless instances wherein I have failed. Let 
 
304 
 
 the blood of Jesus cleanse me from all my sins to 
 others ; and do thou forgive, as thou hast enabled 
 me to forgive, all their transgressions against myself. 
 Grant me larger measures of grace in the days to 
 come, that I may praise thee more and more through- 
 out my whole life and conversation, and thus live and 
 die to the edification of others, and above all to thy 
 glory. 
 
 Keep me from unreasonable and faithless grief, 
 when thou art pleased, with equal wisdom and good- 
 ness, to remove the friends of my heart, or the out- 
 ward comforts of my life. Enable me to give them 
 up without reserve to thee, knowing that no good 
 thing shall be lost either for them or myself, but 
 that all things shall work together for our mutual, 
 our real, our everlasting good. 
 
 Having these hopes, help me to be more and more 
 purified from all uncleanness both of flesh and of 
 spirit, and to endeavour even to perfect holiness in 
 thy faith and fear. Lord, I am a blind and feeble 
 worm, and of mine own self can think or do nothing 
 that is good : O do thou therefore work in me to 
 will and to do of thy good pleasure, that I may nei- 
 ther be barren nor unfruitful in thy word or work 
 among the children of men. Help me to bear wrongs 
 patiently, to speak every truth meekly, to carry as 
 much as possible my whole conduct unblameably, with 
 respect to others, that thy holy name and truth may 
 be exalted, and they themselves be encouraged to 
 seek the ways of thy salvation. 
 
 O Lord, I give up myself, all I have and all I 
 am, into thy blessed protection ; beseeching thee to 
 
305 
 
 do for me and for mine, in every respect, and at every 
 time, exceeding abundantly above all that I can ask 
 or think, for the sake of Christ Jesus, my Lord and 
 my God; to whom, with Thee, O Father, and Thee, 
 O blessed Spirit, Three Persons in One and the 
 Same Jehovah, be all honour, grace, and glory as- 
 cribed, both now and for evermore. Amen. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Printed by W. Collins & Co. 
 Glasgow. 
 
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